Fausto

fausto a novella

stephen richter

by Stephen Richter

Fausto

2

Fausto

For Mary-Kay Gamel and Vilashini Cooppan. Thank you for all of your guidance and insight that helped bring Fausto to life.

3

Fausto

4

Fausto

“One thing I ask: for they say the gate of the King of Darkness is here, and the shadowy marsh, Acheron’s overflow: let me have sight of my dear father, his face: show me the way, open wide the sacred doors. I saved him, brought him out from the thick of the enemy, through the flames, on these shoulders, with a thousand spears behind me: companion on my journey, he endured with me all the seas, all the threats of sky and ocean, weak, beyond his power, and his allotted span of old age.

He ordered me, with prayers, to seek you out, humbly, and approach your threshold: I ask you, kindly one, pity both father and son: since you are all power, not for nothing has Hecate set you to rule the groves of Avernus.

If Orpheus could summon the shade of his wife, relying on his Thracian lyre, its melodious strings: if Pollux, crossing that way, and returning, so often, could redeem his brother by dying in turn – and great Theseus, what of him, or Hercules? – well, my race too is Jupiter’s on high.”

With these words he prayed, and grasped the altar, “Trojan son of Anchises, sprung from the blood of the gods, the path to hell is easy: black Dis’s door is open night and day: but to retrace your steps, and go out to the air above, that is work, that is the task.”

Virgil - The Aeneid Book VI

5

Fausto

6

Fausto

Ash Wednesday, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico…

Major Louis Burns walked along the marina with his hands in his pockets. Moonlight cast shadows across his path. He looked over his shoulder. A splash in the water caused the major to jump. He jogged the rest of the way to the gate of Muelle D. A pelican flew from the water. It landed on the quarterdeck of a fishing boat.

Major Burns shook his head.

He removed a card from his pocket and swiped the security pad on the gate. The gate opened. The major walked to the bottom of the gangplank. Sweat rolled down his face. It stained his armpits, soaking the Varga girl on the back of his Tommy Bahama shirt. He approached the end of the landing then stopped in front of a monster of a fishing boat. Across her back was written: !

!

!

!

The River Styx Newport Beach, CA

The major climbed aboard. He scanned the marina with his eyes. The pelican choked down the fish in its mouth.

“Where you hiding, hard charger?” said the major. “You ain’t that good.” He looked back across the dock, over the marina again.

Nothing stirred. A cell phone rang. The major answered it. He descended into the cabin.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t have it yet,” said the major. He walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of Southern Comfort. The boat rocked with the tide.

7

Fausto

He stopped.

The major placed his cell phone and cocktail on top of the bar. He turned around. Footsteps crossed the quarterdeck outside. The major swallowed.

Men entered the cabin of the boat.

“Well it’s about time, gentlemen,” said the major. “You sons of bitches have a lot to learn about noise discipline, though.” He smiled.

Across the marina, a sound like a firecracker caused a group of tourists to look towards the water. There was a second crack and a flash of light from inside one of the boats.

“Viva México!” said a tourist. They all laughed then staggered away, arm in arm.

**** Viernes Santo (Good Friday)…

A black Cadillac Fleetwood glided down the two-lane highway. Cactus stretched on for an eternity in all directions. Vultures circled overhead.

The Pacific coastline appeared then disappeared again. The Cadillac rolled on, cresting another hill. The ocean came into view once more.

Fausto looked at his gas gauge. He frowned. The sun darkened his aviator sunglasses. He tapped the gauge with his finger. The gaslight turned on.

“Great,” said Fausto. He lit a cigarette then wiped the sweat from his forehead. His hair was cut high and tight. Fausto tossed a Zippo cigarette lighter over his shoulder. It landed on a sea bag in the backseat. The letters USMC were embossed on its side.

8

Fausto

A statue of the Virgin Mary gazed through wreaths and rosaries, out over the desert, from a roadside shrine. The Cadillac shrank on the horizon. Flowers and crosses decorated each curve in the highway.

Fausto drove on.

Not a soul was to be found on the streets of Todos Santos. Fausto rolled down his window. The heat and dust forced him to squint. The Cadillac crept along the avenida principal of the pueblo. A woman appeared up ahead, limping across the road towards the mission.

Fausto pulled over and parked across the street from a hotel with Moroccan decor. He reached over the seat. Fausto fished a trifold brochure from the sea bag. It had a picture of the same hotel on its cover.

Meet with florist - 0930 hrs. was scribbled beneath the picture in black ink. Fausto climbed from the vehicle and stretched. Dog tags jingled beneath his t-shirt. He looked up at the brass letters above the balconies.

Hotel California Fausto crossed the street, through dust and wind. He entered the building.

“Welcome to the Hotel California,” said the girl at the front desk. She sounded French. Fausto pulled an envelope from his pocket. It was from the Red Cross. He looked at the handwriting on the back.

“Excuse me,” said Fausto. He removed his sunglasses. “I was wondering if you might know where I could find a woman named Persephone Mauvais?”

The girl smiled. She brushed the hair from her forehead. Daffodils adorned the desk beside her.

9

Fausto

“You must be Fausto,” she said. She extended her hand. “I’m Persephone.” Fausto frowned. He shook her hand.

“You’re younger than I thought you’d be,” said Fausto.

“I’m twenty-three.” said Persephone.

“When was the last time you spoke to my father in person?” said Fausto.

“Wouldn’t you like to get cleaned up first?” said Persephone. “You’ve been driving a very long time.” She gathered up a towel, soap, and a room key. She walked from behind the check-in desk.

“Come,” said Persephone. She took Fausto by the arm. He followed.

“What would you like to know?” she said, “Where all the people of Todos Santos have gone?” Persephone led Fausto through a courtyard with a fountain.

“No,” said Fausto, “That’s not what I wanted.” They climbed a flight of stairs. Fousto’s knee buckled. “Jesus, I guess I am a little-” “Tired?” said Persephone, “Yes, you look very tired.” She led Fausto down a hallway and unlocked the door to room nine.

“So, where have all of the people gone?” said Fausto. Persephone smiled.

“Everyone’s dead,” she said. “Didn’t you know?”

“You’re joking, right?”"said Fausto. They entered the room.

“Yes,” said Persephone, “but you do look terrible, Fausto.” Fausto yawned. He rubbed his face. “Like someone about to collapse,” said Persephone.

10

Fausto

Fausto collapsed.

He fell in slow motion. His cheek landed against the floor. The air smelled of sandalwood. Persephone’s feet crossed the black floorboards towards him. Fausto lost consciousness. **** “Dehydration,” said a man. Sunlight silhouetted him against the skylight above Fausto. Persephone leaned into view. She placed a washcloth on Fausto’s forehead. Mirrors decorated the ceiling above her.

“What happened?” said Fausto.

“Looks like a little heat exhaustion,” said the man. He seemed to be in his forties. He smiled. “I’m Omar,” he said. He reached into a black duffle bag on the floor.

“Fausto,” said Fausto. He sat up on the bed. They shook hands.

“I’ve heard,” said Omar. He handed Fausto a business card. "Just get some rest. You're going to be fine. Maybe give him some pomegranate juice," he said.

"You a doctor?" said Fausto.

Omar laughed. He stood and walked to the door. Persephone accompanied him. Fausto couldn’t understand what they were saying to each other. It sounded French but different. Fausto looked down at the business card Omar had given him: " Ohm-ar Red Tantric, White Tantric, Kundalini yoga / CPA Todos Santos B.C.S Mexico (52) (624) 142 0666 11

Fausto

Fausto turned the card over.

“The road to enlightenment is paved with precious things left behind” - Midas "You've got to be shitting me," said Fausto. He dug through his pants pockets and produced a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Omar’s footsteps sounded on the stairwell outside the door. Persephone walked back into the room. Fausto lit his Zippo. Persephone took the cigarette from Fausto’s lips.

“Please don’t,” she said.

Fausto caught her wrist. He noticed a gold chain and a locket around Persephone’s neck.

“Where did you get this?” he said.

Persephone pulled away. She held the locket to her chest.

“Louis gave it to me,” she said.

“What?!” said Fausto, “That’s my sister’s.”

“He gave it to me,” said Persephone. She backed towards the window.

“What for?” said Fausto.

“He was a nice man.”

“Was?” “Is... He is nice man, your father, he always brings me fresh flowers to-”

12

Fausto

“Where’s my father, Persephone?!” said Fausto. Persephone stared at him. Her back pressed against the wall. Fausto smacked his palm against the wall beside her head. She closed her eyes.

“Where is he?” said Fausto. His eyes searched her face. “What was he doing down here? With you...” His eye teared.

Perspiration rolled down Persephone’s neck, wetting her linen shirt.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Persephone wiped the tear from Fausto’s cheek with her thumb. He was unshaven.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I have no idea where he went.”

“Then help me,” said Fausto. He drew close to Persephone.

Persephone slipped away. She straightened out her shirtfront.

“Okay,” she said, “I did see Louis on Wednesday, in Cabo San Lucas.

He was with Dionisio, the divemaster there.”

“Dionisio,” said Fausto.

“I was hitchhiking to Playa Médano and they gave me a ride into town,” she said.

“Can you take me to him?”

Persephone looked out the window. The old woman limped across the road, away from the mission. Dust and sand blew around her.

“Could you at least show me the way?” said Fausto.

Persephone looked into Fausto’s eyes. They were black.

13

Fausto

She took the Zippo from his hand and lit the cigarette she had taken from him. She exhaled into the air with a cloud of smoke.

“You have your father’s eyes, you know that?” she said.

Fausto stared at her.

Persephone shook her head.

“I have no one else...” said Fausto.

They held each other’s gaze.

“D'accord,” she said, “ Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks,” said Fausto.

“As long as you give me a ride back,” said Persephone, “I need to get some flowers in Cabo anyway.”

“Deal.”

Persephone walked through the open doorway.

“Can I have my lighter back?” said Fausto.

She continued down the hallway, to the stairs.

Fausto followed. **** They crossed the lobby. Persephone took her purse from the chair at the check-in desk. She brushed some hair behind an ear and wrote a 14

Fausto

note. They walked out of the hotel. Across the street, Omar’s face reflected in the backseat window of the Cadillac.

He tried the door handle.

“What the fuck there, Omar?” said Fausto.

Omar stiffened. He smiled. “Just admiring your Brougham, Fausto, it’s beautiful,” he said.

Persephone opened the passenger’s door. She climbed inside.

“That’s my dad’s Bro-ham you’re admiring there, Omar.” Fausto climbed behind the wheel. “Never lets anyone drive it though, especially not me.” Fausto put on his shades and fired up the engine.

He rolled down his window.

Omar leaned in.

“You shouldn’t rush into things without meditation,” said Omar, “Seriously, you need some rest, Fausto.”

“Good looking out, Omar,” Fausto stepped on the gas pedal. The Cadillac drove away.

“Namaste,” said Omar. He looked back at the hotel.

The Cadillac glided down the road past the mission. The sun sank on the horizon. Fausto drove through a grove of palm trees. A cloud of mosquitos dissipated then reformed again. Water trickled. A vein of sawgrass and cattail split the desert near an oasis, beneath the town of Todos Santos.

The Cadillac turned onto highway 1.

Persephone placed a foot on the dashboard in front of her. Her skirt opened. A pale thigh. A friendship bracelet adorned her ankle. Fausto 15

Fausto

looked back at the road. The Pacific appeared then disappeared again.

The Cadillac crested a hill. Cactus stretched to the horizon, to the coast and the blood red sea approaching sunset. They drove south, towards Land’s End. The Cadillac passed shrine after roadside shrine. Each cross marked the place of someone’s death on the highway. The majority were at the curves in the road. Some crosses had flowers beneath them.

“So, what exactly do you do down here?” said Fausto.

“Im a florist.” “in the desert?”

“You’d be surprised how much people will pay to have a little beauty,” said Persephone, “especially in the desert.”

“What about my father?” said Fausto, “Did he ever pay?”

“For what?”

Persephone fished through her purse.

“For the beauty,” said Fausto, “Did he ever have to pay for this beauty you’re talking about?”

Persephone laughed. She took out a bag of weed and rolling papers.

She rolled herself a joint.

“So, what do you do in the army?” she said.

“Marines.”

“In the marines, then.”

Persephone lit her joint.

“Drug counterinsurgency,” said Fausto.

“Counter-whom?”

“Intelligence to stop drugs and drug-lords.”

“Well, you’re not stopping me,” said Persephone. She smoked her joint and squinted. “This is México, Fausto. You’re a gringo down here.

Never forget.”

16

Fausto

“And what are you, invincible?”

“I’m better than invincible, I’m Canadian.”

They crested a hill. The coastline appeared. They descended into the next canyon.

“I have three days, Persephone.”

“Me too,” she said, “I leave Easter Sunday.”

“Why so soon?”

Four skeletal cows crossed the road at the bottom of the arroyo. Fausto pumped the brakes. The Cadillac stopped just short of the crossing cattle. Ribs moved beneath their grey hides. Their heads hung. Fausto drove around them. The Cadillac accelerated to the top of a curve.

“I’m only here for the winter,” said Persephone, “After high season I go back to Montréal.”

“Why did my father give you the necklace, Persephone?”

Persephone pointed. “Your gas lamp,” she said.

“Shit,” said Fausto.

The black Cadillac coasted down the hill, towards Cabo San Lucas, on nothing but gravity and gas fumes. El Arco, the great stone arch at Land’s End, marked the outer edge of the bay. Cruise ships, yachts, and fishing boats drifted off the coast of Médano Beach. The sky and sea purpled with the approaching night. The lights of the resorts sparkled in the twilight.

Fausto yawned.

He blinked and shook his head. “I need coffee anyway,” he said. He put the transmission into neutral then raised his arms above his head.

“Woooooooo! burn the boats, baby, we’re coming in hot!” he said. He looked to Persephone. She raised her arms and smiled. She shrieked.

17

Fausto

The Cadillac coasted down the hill into the PEMEX service station at the edge of town with a bounce. **** Cabo San Lucas, Mexico - 20:30 hrs.

The Cadillac climbed an unpaved street. It labored up the backside of a hilltop colonia. Persephone looked out over the city and bay. The Cadillac’s undercarriage scraped a rock. It sparked.

“Damnit, Persephone!” said Fausto, “this is horseshit.” The dirt road steepened. At the top of the incline, sat a white minimalist residence.

“There?” said Fausto. Tires spat gravel and lost traction on the hill.

The Cadillac slipped backwards.

“That’s where he lives, Fausto. Do you want to go or not?”

Fausto put the tranny into first gear and floored the gas. The Cadillac lurched forward.

“I like your attitude, Fausto,” said Persephone, “you are man of action.”

“Action Jackson.”

The Cadillac climbed and fishtailed and fought its way to the gates at the top of the hill.

“That’s how we get her done,” said Fausto. He set the parking brake with his foot.

“Yes,” said Persephone. She looked Fausto up and down then climbed out of the vehicle. They walked to a stainless steel intercom beside an iron Door. The walls were over ten feet high. The view of the bay behind them was spectacular.

18

Fausto

“Wow,” said Fausto.

“I know,” said Persephone. “Don’t let it get to you, Fausto.” She dialed a sequence of numbers on the key pad. “It happens to everyone.” A telephone rang somewhere inside the compound. The ringing continued.

“He’s not here,” she said. “Want me to text him?”

Fausto stared at the bay. “Huh? Yeah, do that,” he said.

Persephone turned away from Fausto. She leaned over her mobile device. Light from its screen illuminated her face. She laughed and typed with her thumbs.

“Get the fuck out of here, Dionisio. You’re such a cabrón,” Persephone laughed. “He’s over at... Oh, god-” “Oh, god what?”

“It’s just pictures... He’s at Passions, and Nikki Beach at the ME,” she said.

“The who?”

“The Meliá,” she said. “He’s texting me again. He wants us to meet him there.”

“Where?”

“Nikki Beach,” said Persephone, “It’s spring break, Fausto. There’s no way Dionisio will abandon the party tonight. No way in hell.”

“What’s wrong with you people?” said Fausto. “Bunch of goddamned hedonists.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Alright, damnit, we’ll go to spring break.” said Fausto.

Persephone’s eyes flashed. “I’ll get my scarf.”

They climbed back into the car. Persephone removed her shirt. Her breasts were pale like her thigh. She pulled a long silk scarf from her purse. She tied it around her neck, then wrapped it around her body 19

Fausto

into a dress. Persephone shook her hair out then looked at herself in the rearview mirror.

“It’s Hermès,” she said, “You can drive, you know,” “I will if you let me.”

Fausto twisted the rearview mirror back to where he could see again.

He started the engine. Persephone laughed.

“You can’t counterinsurgency everything, Fausto.”

“Just trying to find my father, that’s all.”

“Let’s go find him then.”

Fausto nodded. **** The black Cadillac bounced along a dirt road between the Casa Dorada Beach Resort and the Meliá Cabo San Lucas. Shirtless and bikini-clad people roamed the streets in flip-flops and straw sombreros.

Humvees and limousines inched through the crowd to the main entrance of Nikki Beach. Arclights crossed the sky above the red glow and smoke rising from the oceanfront nightclub. Fausto parked. The stream of tourists engulfed the vehicle. Fausto reached into the seabag in the backseat. He removed a navy sport coat with brass buttons.

Maj. L. Burnes USMC was embroidered beneath the inside pocket in gold. Fausto put the jacket on over his t-shirt and jeans.

“Fancy,” said Persephone.

20

Fausto

Fausto locked the seabag in the trunk of the Cadillac. They crossed the street, hand in hand. They walked to the entrance of the the nightclub.

“Persephone!” said Ricardo at the velvet rope, “Canada’s in the house, baby.”

“It is now,” said Persephone.

“Clearly Canadian,” said Ricardo, “Mmmm, grade A maple syrup right there. Y’all seeing this?” He closed the rope in front of Fausto.

“He’s with me, Ricardo,” said Persephone.

“My bad,” said Ricardo, “Welcome to paradise, soldier.”

“Marine.”

Persephone pulled Fausto behind her. They merged into the crowd entering the courtyard. Bass thundered through the open air. Moonlight shimmered on the beach and bay beyond the resort grounds. The crowd was dense but far better than the chaos being caused by college students on the public side of Playa Médano. At Nikki Beach, everyone wore white. Fausto and Persephone wore black. A DJ in white denim spun dance music from his tower above the swimming pool. Persephone pointed. A shirtless man in linen pants danced onstage. Black curly hair shook with beads of sweat. Go-Go Girls in white plumage samba-danced around the man. Hips gyrated.

The man’s shoulders shimmied in a blur, like a Turkish dancer.

“Dionisio,” said Fausto.

A girl grabbed ahold of Dionisio’s waist onstage. Her eyes widened.

Dinisio’s ass shook in a flurry between henna-painted hands. A conga line formed. It coiled around the DJ booth. Dionisio danced at the head

21

Fausto

of the serpent. The conga line snaked onto the dance floor below.

People cheered.

Dionisio raised his arms to the night sky.

“Hurry!” said Persephone. She took Fausto’s hand.

“What?!”

Fausto followed Persephone into the sea of dancing bodies. She placed Fausto’s hands on her hips. They merged into the conga line dancing behind Dionisio. Fausto shook his ass and tried to mimic Persephone’s movements.

“I can’t believe this shit.” said Fausto. They sambaed their way poolside, around a palapa, a fountain, then to a private corner on the sand. A row of giant beds were elevated on stilts beside them. Sheets of white fabric blew in the night breeze. Dionisio placed his forehead to Persephone’s and grinned. He lifted her off the ground. A diver’s mask was tattooed to his shoulder.

“Have a drink with me, “ he said.

“Nice moves there,” said Fausto. He adjusted his jacket, “Hard to keep up with.”

“Who is this sexy man?” said Dionisio. He smiled.

“Fausto,” said Persephone, “Fausto Burns.” Dionisio’s expression faded. “He’s looking for Louis, Dionisio, have you seen him?”

Dionisio seemed sober now. He looked towards the entrance of the club.

“He never showed,” said Dionisio, “I’ll radio him tonight.”

“Show up for what?” said Fausto. Dionisio looked around.

“I’m meeting a friend here,” said Dionisio, “After that I can take you to use ship-to-shore radio at my place, yes?” People danced all over the beach. Beyond the white ropes of the club the crowd swelled into a

22

Fausto

fish farm of dancing bodies. Fireworks exploded overhead in molten red.

“How long?” said Fausto.

“Thirty minutes,” said Dionisio, “maybe less, or the anchovies are free.” He put on a linen shirt and buttoned it. “You like anchovies?”

“Does my father?”

Dionisio smiled. “Yes... Yes he does like anchovies.”

“Alright,” said Fausto, “where should we wait for you?”

“Smart and sexy... Are you Greek, Fausto?”

“No.” “Shame.” Dionisio looked at Persephone. “Meet me in the beach bar at midnight.”

“No time for quickies, Dionisio,” said Persephone. “always time for quickie, my darling, this is Dionisio!” He backed away from them smiling, his tongue between his teeth.

“What the hell’s with you people?” said Fausto, “Thirty minutes there, Dionisio! No bullshit. you hear me?” Dionisio danced into the crowd.

Fausto ran a hand over his scalp. The music thundered. He squeezed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. Persephone touched Fausto’s cheek. Fireworks painted their faces with color.

“I like you,” she said. Fausto Smiled.

“Buy you a drink?”

“I don’t think we should, Fausto.”

“I’ll watch your back, Seph.”

Fausto pointed to his eyes. “Better than waiting here for Dionysus with our dicks in our hands.”

Persephone laughed. “Don’t let Dionisio hear you say that.” She shook her head.

23

Fausto

“It’s true,” said Fausto.

Persephone wrapped Fausto’s arm around her shoulder and clasped his fingers. They walked down to the beach bar on the sand. They kicked off their shoes. Fausto rolled up his jeans. They sat on barstools beneath a moonlight sky.

“Tequila, porfis,” said Persephone.

“Dos,” said Fausto. The bartender obliged. Fausto looked into Persephone’s eyes. She smiled. He looked at the locket around her neck. “Persephone?”

“Yes?” Fausto watched the colored lights play over her face. Boats floated on the bay over her shoulder.

“Salúd,” said Fausto. He raised his glass.

“Salúd,” They drank for thirty minutes.

Dionisio returned, covered in sweat. He searched the beach bar but Persephone and Fausto were nowhere to be found. He tapped his PDA. Persephone rolled into Fausto’s arms atop one of the giant beds on stilts above the beach. They kissed. Persephone reached inside Fausto’s jeans. The screen lit up on her PDA. Dionisio peeked his head over the mattress with a cell phone to his ear. Persephone howled. She rolled off the bed and hit the sand with a thump. Fausto laughed.

“I need to leave, like now, people,” said Dionisio. He put away his device. “We can do this at my place, yes, we can, we will, my friends.

But we must go now, okay? right now.”

24

Fausto

“We’re the black Cadillac at the top of the hill,” said Fausto. He tossed Dionisio the car keys. “Go on ahead. I’ll get Persephone and catch up with you.”

Dionisio nodded. He walked through the crowd. Fausto tried to help Persephone to her feet.

She slapped his face.

“Fuck you, Fausto, why’d you throw me off there?!”

“I didn’t throw you off anything!”

“Then why’d you laugh?!”

A firework burst with a flash of blue.

“Come on, Seph, give me your hand.” said Fausto.

Persephone jumped into Fausto’s arms. He caught her.

“Carry me... I’m dizzy. I’m tired, and you did this to me, Fausto,” she said. “I told you I didn’t want to drink.”

Fausto shuffled through the dancing bodies with Persephone in his arms. Her face pressed against his chest. Her arms clung to his neck.

Fausto walked out of the club. Sweat rolled down his face. They reached the top of the dirt road. Fausto set Persephone down. Three men in boots and black cowboy hats looked through the Cadillac’s open trunk, across the street.

“Wait,” said Persephone.

Fausto walked towards the men.

“What you doing there, hard-chargers?” Fausto closed the distance between them. A Cadillac Escalade idled in the shadows of an alley, in the background.

25

Fausto

“Que quiere este güey?” said the man with the seabag.

Fausto gripped the man’s hand.

“That’s my father’s.”

It happened in a blur. Persephone screamed. The first man ran off, his arm bent grotesquely backwards. The second man crawled away from Fausto. Blood poured from a hole on the side of the man’s head. He scrambled to his feet and ran into the night.

Cowboy hats littered the ground.

Fausto crouched in the street behind the Cadillac. His knee pressed into the remaining cowboy’s throat, beneath the bumper of the vehicle.

“Fausto, stop!” said Persephone. She ran.

Fausto pressed his thumbs against the man’s eyelids. His nostrils flared.

A human ear lay in the dirt beside Fausto’s knee. Fausto blinked at the sight of it.

“Fausto!”

Persephone threw her arms around him. She pulled. Fausto sprang to his feet.

“Goddamnit!” he said. “What’s wrong with you people?” His eyes widened. Fausto looked around. He breathed through his teeth.

The remaining cowboy ran down the hill towards Nikki Beach.

“Motherfuckers. What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” said Fausto.

26

Fausto

“Fausto!” said Persephone. She rolled the seabag into the Cadillac’s trunk and slammed the door shut. “Get in the car.”

Fausto climbed into the passenger’s seat. Persephone drove. The Cadillac fishtailed around the corner in a cloud of dust. The moon shone overhead. Headlights illuminated Persephone’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Fausto looked back. Dionisio was passed out cold in the backseat. His linen shirt was rolled up, exposing his stomach. A syringe hung from a swollen injection site beneath his navel.

Fausto’s lips puckered up, like a fish, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Ay, Dionisio,” said Persephone, “you could have at least helped us, cabrón.”

Dionisio smiled. He moaned. “Their black hats, they were freaking me out, so I stayed here.” His accent was even thicker.

“Want to secure that syringe there, hard-charger?” said Fausto. He pointed.

“Oh, god. How embarrassing is this?” said Dionisio. “It’s not what it looks like, Fausto, not really.”

“Really?” said Fausto.

“Nothing in the Baja is, Fausto, never.” He removed the syringe from his skin and rolled his shirt down.

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m psychic,” said Dionisio.

“I introduced you two at Nikki Beach,” said Persephone.

27

Fausto

Fausto nodded. Persephone turned onto the same dirt road from before.

Dionisio’s house sat at the top of the incline. “Easy there, Seph.”

Fausto reached for the steering wheel. “Maybe I should just-” Persephone rolled her eyes.

She floored the gas.

Dionisio laughed. **** Low lights.

The place was shagadelic, a spy palace of plastic, stainless steel, and fur. Fausto stood before a wall of windows. Fireworks exploded over Nikki Beach. The lights of the hillside stretched to the marina. El Squid Roe and Cabo Wabo overflowed with tourists. The cruise ship headed into the Sea of Cortez beneath a full moon.

Fausto looked down at his hands.

He opened and closed them. They were sticky. He looked back out over the bay.

“Where you at, daddy?”

Bosa Nova music played.

“You alright?” said Persephone.

“No.” She joined Fausto at the windows.

“My friends,” said Dionisio. He tossed the seabag onto an endless white couch. “Let’s radio Louis.”

28

Fausto

“Who were those men?” said Fausto.

“Thieves.”

“With diamond earrings and ostrich boots?”

“Nacos, and thieves.”

“What have you and my father been doing, Dionisio?”

“Financially or sexually?”

“Horseshit.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Dionisio,” said Persephone.

“What? It was long time ago. Louis and I were very young, so sexy and so young, Fausto. You weren’t even born so stop making that face.”

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m sixty-three, Fausto.”

“How come you look so young?”

“Let’s try the radio. I’m worried about Louis.”

“Where is he?” **** Static.

The speakers hummed. The room looked like the bridge of a submarine. LED screens showed swell patterns, tides, buoys, and inferred weather. Dionisio pressed the SEND button on a microphone at the console.

“Daddy, can you hear me? Over.” said Fausto. Persephone looked at Dionisio. A framed photograph of Dionisio and a bookish gentleman with eyeglasses on sat on top of the desk. “Daddy come in. It’s Fausto.

Over.” Headlights moved along the hillside road. “What the hell were they looking for?” Fausto stood. He marched back to the living room.

Fausto emptied the seabag onto the couch.

- a brochure from the Hotel California.

29

Fausto

- a tackle box, lead fishing weights.

“We have company, old man.”

A pearl colored Cadillac Escalade climbed the dirt road in 4-wheel drive.

- a Manila envelope.

- a fishing photograph. Two men in shades with Major Burns, one of them looked like the gentleman from Dionisio’s photograph. Their arms were around each other’s shoulders, a black marlin at their feet, cigars between their lips, on the rear deck of the River Styx sport fishing yacht.

Headlights illuminated the compound’s walls.

“What the hell are you all mixed up in?”

“Hurry!” said Persephone. Fausto speed-packed the seabag and followed her. The telephone rang at the intercom on the wall. Dionisio emerged from the kitchen. Four ice chests slung over his shoulders. He carried a spear-fishing trident. Dionisio handed Fausto a diving knife.

“Defend yourself,” said Dionisio.

Fausto shook his head.

“I’m a diver not fighter.”

They ran down an observation corridor lined with windows. It curved around the cliffs to a swimming pool on a plateau. The black Pacific churned and hissed against the rocks below them. Pieces of rebar protruded from the wall of the sea cliff. Dionisio descended the ladder into darkness. Persephone followed him down. Fausto brought up the rear. At the bottom, a Zodiac was tarped and chained inside a cove.

30

Fausto

“Can you drive a Zodiac?” said Dionisio.

“I was born in one.” said Fausto.

They pushed the boat into the water. Persephone jumped in then Dionisio. The Zodiac drifted away from the cliff and the breakers.

Fausto dove from the rocks. He swam to the Zodiac and climbed aboard. Rounds impacted into the water all around them. Men shouted from the observation deck of Dionisio’s swimming pool. Fausto pulled the ignition cord. The engine sputtered.

“I think they’re after you, Fausto,” said Dionisio.

“How you figure?” said Fausto. He grunted and pulled the cord again.

The engine failed.

“The one screaming says he wants his ear,” said Dionisio, “He points to you, Fausto!”

A 250 pound pistolero jumped from the observation deck. He landed inside the Zodiac. Persephone and Fausto launched into the air. They landed with a splash. Fausto swam back towards the boat. Rounds peppered the water. The gunman grappled with Dionisio. Persephone pulled herself onto the nose of the Zodiac.

“Dionisio!” said Persephone.

“Don’t worry, darling, he’s messing with-” The gunman’s head exploded from the impact of a NATO ball round.

Gore splashed over Persephone. The body pitched forward.

Persephone watched, amazed. More gunshots erupted from the cliffside. Dionisio’s body fell backwards into the sea. He sank beneath a pool of blood. Persephone crawled astern. Her lips trembled. She yanked the ripcord. The engine started. Fausto pulled himself into the boat, over the dead gunman. Persephone cranked throttle. The front end of the Zodiac lifted from the sea. Rounds impacted behind them.

They raced away from the sea cliffs towards deeper waters, beyond Land’s End.

31

Fausto

**** Persephone followed the dissipating wake of the Carnival cruise ship, beneath a band of moonlight. She gripped the throttle. Her knuckles were bone white. Fausto reached over and placed his hand on top of Persephone’s. He killed the engine. The lights of Cabo San Lucas sparkled in the distance behind them. Fausto moved Dionisio’s ice chests. He rolled the gunman’s body overboard. It bobbed in the water alongside them. Fausto took a waterproof bag from the Zodiac’s deck.

He filled it with seawater, like a bucket. He splashed the water in Persephone’s face, washing away the gore.

“What’s wrong with you?!” said Persephone.

Fausto seized her by the shoulders. Moonlight illuminated her face.

“This is the part where the mysterious blonde comes clean.”

Persephone’s eyes widened. She watched the first bull shark hit the gunman’s body. Perhaps it was a tiger shark. More dorsal fins appeared.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The body bucked and splashed with each hit. It was becoming a feeding frenzy.

“Why did my father give you the necklace?!”

“I can’t watch this!”

“Why, goddamnit?!”

The sharks tore the gunman to pieces.

32

Fausto

“Because he loves me,” said Persephone. She looked into Fausto’s eyes, “Louis loves me, Fausto. He loves me more than anyone in the world!”

“Filthy whore.”

Fausto pulled the ignition cord. The engine sputtered then started.

Fausto cranked the throttle and headed back towards the lights of Cabo San Lucas. **** The Zodiac idled through a labyrinth of slips and ships, across the plate glass surface of the marina. Fausto examined each vessel they passed. He killed the engine. The Zodiac drifted towards a monster of a fishing boat.

The River Styx Newport Beach, CA was written across her stern. Fausto grabbed the grate behind the rear deck. He slung Louis’ seabag over his shoulder. Fausto took the trident and the diving knife then climbed aboard the River Styx. A pelican landed on the deck of a sailboat. It watched them. Persephone followed Fausto up the ladder. Fausto jammed the diving knife into a doorframe beneath the bridge. He pried. The door opened.

“Good looking out, Dionisio.”

They walked down a passageway, down a cantilever staircase, to a lounge and bar, beneath the main deck. Fausto found a light switch.

The room was a mess. Overturned couch pillows. Broken glass.

Splintered wood. Bullet holes and two distinct bloodstains marked the 33

Fausto

wall opposite the bar. On top of the bar, sat a half-full cocktail glass and a bottle of Southern Comfort.

“Oh, Louis,” said Persephone.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh, Louis?’ Tell me the truth, Seph.”

“Who’s truth?”

“The whole-” “Louis’ truth? Dionisio’s? Mine?! You don’t want the truth, Fausto.

You just want-” “I just want to know what the fuck Louis was doing here!”

“Louis paid me to wait for you at the Hotel California.”

“And Dionisio?”

“He knew Louis’ fishing friends.”

Persephone stared at the blood stains on the wall.

“And you just needed a father figure, then. Is that it? Daddy didn’t treat you nice enough so you decided to use mine?”

“You’re jealous.”

“Whatever my father’s mixed up in he did it because of you!”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what is?!”

“I love him, Fausto.”

“Well, it looks your like sugar daddy’s still alive then, sister.”

Fausto picked up the cocktail glass and took a sip. “Daddy drinks Southern Comfort. The bullet holes are over there not here. I think he’s alive.” Footsteps sounded on the deck above them. Fausto turned off the lights. The door opened. A shadowed figure pimp-slapped someone. There was a shriek, a thud, and a muffled groan. **** Charlie opened his eyes, blinking. He was shirtless on top of the bar in skivvies and black socks. A red handprint marked his cheek. Charlie’s wrists and ankles were hog-tied with a Hermes scarf. Persephone wore a loud silk Versace shirt tied in a knot above her navel.

34

Fausto

“I don’t know anything,” said Charlie, “No mames, güey.”

Fausto held up the bottle of Southern Comfort. He squeezed Charlie’s cheeks together.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wait!, esperate,” said Charlie, “If you’re gonna kill me with booze at least use the good stuff, cabrón. It’s up there! We have Don Julio.”

“What happened here?”

“I just drive the boat, man.”

“Why you here so late, boatman?”

“I had a no-show charter. I’m just cleaning.”

Fausto opened Louis’ seabag. He retrieved the fishing photograph of his father.

“Who are these people?”

“You’re looking for the devil himself, aren’t you? You must be Fausto.”

“How… Who was your charter, the no-show?”

“You’re my charter. I’ve been waiting for you and Louis for three days, man.”

Fausto socked Charlie in the mouth.

“Why would I lie?!

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know! But you’re here. so we can leave, right?”

“We’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t back out now, Fausto. Not with these-” “I’m not in this!” Fausto snatched Charlie’s trachea. “You keep talking like you know me and I swear to god I’ll fucking-”

35

Fausto

“Kill me? Go ahead...” Charlie swallowed. “That’s nothing compared to what El Profe will do to me.”

“El Profe?” said Fausto. He looked down at the photograph.

The bookish man with his arm around Louis’ shoulder was smiling.

“What’s a professor gonna do to you that’s worse than death?” said Fausto. Charlie trembled.

“The unspeakable, alright? If I don’t show up with Louis’ bag by tomorrow morning... I’m fucked.”

“Who is El Profe?”

“El mero mero chignón. El padrino.”

“Fausto, let’s go! We can run. We should just get out of here!”

“They’ll find you,” said Charlie.

Fausto looked at the bullet holes and blood stains on the wall. He blinked.

“You want to find out what happened to your dad, right?”

Fausto ran a hand over his scalp. He gripped the bar top for support.

“Who better to find him than El Profe? I mean, you have Louis’ bag.

He can help you, man.”

“There’s nothing in Louis’ bag,” said Persephone.

“Nothing in the bag?” said Charlie.

“How do you know that?” Fausto regained his balance.

A long crackling groan rose from the back of Charlie’s throat. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity. “Go on, man. Just kill me.”

“No way,” said Fausto.

“Sí güey,”said Charlie.

36

Fausto

Fausto untied him.

“No, you’re gonna help us, Charlie. Or you and El Profe get to do the unspeakable, you hear me?”

“What do you want from me?”

“To do what you were paid to do. Take me to see El Profe.”

“Orale pues.”

“I’m done dancing around this hell hole.”

“Good.”

“I want answers.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Shut up, Charlie.”

Charlie rubbed his wrists. He nodded. Persephone helped him off the bar.

“Go ahead and keep the shirt. It looks nice on you. Sorry we all started on such an awkward note but, welcome to the River Styx. I’m Charlie, your captain. We’ll be departing for Isla Espiritu Santo as soon as I get some more clothes on. Excuse me.” He climbed the staircase. Fausto removed his wet t-shirt. He rung it out then draped it over a chair. Dog tags jingled. Persephone wrapped her arms around Fausto. She rested her head on his chest. She listened to his heart. The engines rumbled to life.

“I don’t understand you, Persephone.”

“Thanks for risking so much, for Louis.”

“He’s my dad.”

“I like you, Fausto.” She ran her fingers over Fausto’s back and shoulders, over the scars: the shrapnel, the knife wound, a gunshot...

“I like you too.”

“My friends,” said Dionisio. He walked down the staircase wearing raw silk pants, Gucci loafers, and a lilac shirt. His hair was wet. “My body’s not even cold yet and you’re about to have sex on top of a bar.

That says a lot about our relationship.”

37

Fausto

Persephone flew into Dionisio’s arms. They placed their foreheads together.

“Have a drink with me! This time yes,” said Dionisio.

“Yes!”said Persephone. Dionisio walked behind the bar. Fausto smiled.

“Glad to see you made it, old man.”

“Old?!” said Dionisio. “Old enough to teach you both a lesson.” He reached for the bottle of Don Julio on the top shelf.

“How did you do it?” said Persephone. She took a shot glass from Dionisio. He poured two more. “Don’t worry darling, I just swam to lover’s beach then took water taxi to Puerto Paraiso. I keep fresh clothes at Marina Fiesta spa. You think I would really die in wet Gucci? Please... I mean, who are we talking about here?” Everyone raised their glasses.

“Dionisio!”

They toasted. They drank.

“So, I take it you’ve been here before,” said Fausto.

“I tell you later,” said Dionisio. He gathered the ice chests together and placed them in a freezer behind the bar. Fausto watched him. He pulled his father’s seabag close.

“You know Charlie, then?”

“Don’t even get me started on Charlie, darling.”

Dionisio lit a cigarette with Fausto’s Zippo. He turned on the stereo system behind the bar. Persephone and Fausto made eye contact.

Dionisio poured another round. His body moved to the rhythm. Fausto slid his arms through the straps of his father’s seabag. The music played.

38

Fausto

...but you don't care.

Fausto walked to the stairs. Dionisio danced. Persephone joined in, half-heartedly.

So what is right?

Hips moved. All the while her eyes followed Fausto.

And what is wrong?

Fausto climbed the staircase.

Give me a sign.

The River Styx glided out of the marina into the bay. Fausto leaned against the safety rail. The crowd on Medano Beach writhed and pumped beneath the arclights.

“What the hell does she take me for?” said Fausto.

Engines roared. The River Styx kicked up a frothy wake. It carved a path into the Sea of Cortez.

What is__

love?

Ba - by, don’t hurt__

me,

don’t hurt__

me

no more.

**** El Sábado Santo (Black Saturday) 0000 hrs.

The moon sank on the horizon. The Milky Way shone above the River Styx. Fausto sat on the deck beneath the conning tower. The seabag sat 39

Fausto

at his feet. He opened and closed the Zippo with his thumb.

Persephone sat down beside him.

“The necklace belonged to Esperanza, my sister,” said Fausto.

“Where is she?”

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Killed herself when she was sixteen.”

“Were you close?”

“No.” “The necklace means a lot to me too, Fausto.”

“Her mother mailed it to Louis, after. They were together before he married my mom.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he took that locket everywhere.”

“Why would he give it to me?”

“You must be pretty special.”

“Fausto, wait. Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We can’t. We really can’t.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Persephone?”

Persephone touched the locket on her chest.

“Louis...”

“Louis, what?”

“Fausto!” said Charlie. He wore a peacoat. “Come quick.”

Fausto followed Charlie into the steering room. He handed Fausto a handset. The was a crackle of static then a voice came over the speakers.

“Fausto, come in. Over.”

“Daddy?!” Fausto adjusted the volume on the receiver.

40

Fausto

“Goddamn, boy, where the hell you been? Over.”

“Daddy where are you?”

“On the island. Charlie says you’ll be here by sunup. You got my seabag there, devil pup?”

“Daddy, about the seabag.”

“Forget about it! I’m just happy you made it, son. Get some rest. I’ll see you when you get here. Over and out.”

“Dad?” Fausto turned around. Persephone, Dionisio, and Charlie watched him.

Fausto smiled.

“He’s alive!” said Fausto. Persephone looked down. “Think I’m ready for that drink, Dionisio. Come on, Charlie, you too, we’re celebrating there, hard charger. Hey, Seph?”

“Go ahead. I’ll be down in a moment.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just give me a moment.”

“Okay... I’ll see you downstairs.”

Persephone watched them go.

Dionisio threw his arms around Fausto and Charlie’s shoulders in the passageway.

“One and two and step and two... It’s Greek, come on, like man.”

“You’re a piece of work, old man.”

They entered the stairwell. Persephone turned around. She walked towards the steering wheel. The autopilot flashed on the console.

Persephone pushed a button. The steering room lights turned off. Only the glow of the instrument panel illuminated her face. Persephone looked over her shoulder. The passageway was still empty. She picked up the radio handset and pressed the SEND button.

“Papa.”

41

Fausto

****

24.5000° North, -110.3667° West Isla Espiritu Santo, Mexico - 0530 hrs.

The River Styx slowed. The silhouette of an island came into view off her port side. The Sea of Cortez reflected the pink of the predawn sky.

Fausto stood on the quarterdeck. He watched the island grow in detail.

Dionisio joined him. He leaned on the guardrail.

“You are good son, Fausto.”

42

Fausto

“What are we walking into, old man?”

The River Styx rounded the southern tip of the island. A rock formation, like a giant mask over fifteen feet high, stared at them from the cliffside.

“Tragedy,” said Dionisio, “almost Greek, the mask, no?”

“La mascara !” said Charlie. He steered from the spotting tower, high above them. “Two more bays and we can anchor.”

“Be wise with your words, Fausto, you’ll be fine,” Dionisio said.

The River Styx entered a small bay. A temporary pier made of pontoons and aluminum stretched from the shore to the shallows.

Charlie berthed alongside it. The sunrise glowed yellow and red. A man in white Tommy Bahama and a Panama hat stood at the end of the pier. He saluted. Fausto smiled.

The silhouettes of Louis and Fausto met at the middle of the pier. The sun rose red behind them. They saluted then embraced. Persephone watched from the deck of the River Styx. She touched the locket at her neck. She followed Charlie and Dionisio ashore.

“I know it looks god awful, boy, but it ain’t what it looks like,” said Louis, “I’ll explain everything back at HQ, fair enough?”

“Sounds good,” said Fausto. He carried the seabag on his back.

Persephone approached them.

43

Fausto

“Hello sweetheart,” said Louis.

“Hello, Louis,” said Dionisio.

“I was talking to my baby girl, here,” said Louis. He kissed the crown of Persephone’s head. “You Peloponnesian freak.” He knife-handed Dionisio in the armpit then tickled him.

“Stop it, Louis!” said Dionisio. Louis chased him. Dionisio nearly fell.

“Damnit, Louis!”

“Alright, alright,” said Louis, “Just fucking around. Goddamn, cut me some slack, people. I’m happy. I have everybody I care about in the world here with me at the high point in my life. Hell, we should be celebrating. Come on, mount up.”

A Pericú indian man wearing an “Old Guys Rule Los Cabos” t-shirt held the guide ropes of six burros. They each mounted a donkey then followed a precarious trail up the cliffside, towards the island’s interior. The donkey train climbed higher into the sierra. The view was breathtaking. Louis led the way. Persephone, Fausto and the rest followed behind.

Relax it’s Only Money was embroidered on the back of Louis’ Tommy Bahama shirt. A marlin and a pair of die were soaked with sweat just beneath it. The donkeys descended towards an oasis of trees and greenery. It looked like a volcanic lake. The water was deep blue, like the cenotes of the Yucatán.

“That your HQ?” said Fausto.

“No, that’s fresh water there, son,” said Louis, “makes everything here possible.”

“Makes what possible?”said Fausto.

“I’ll show you.”

44

Fausto

The donkey train descended into the valley. At the backside of the cenote was a brush-covered entrance to a cave. They left their burros with the Pericú man and followed Louis down a dark passageway.

They came to a pair of ornate hardwood doors. Louis knocked three times. A man in a white golf shirt with a red Polo insignia answered the door. He smiled then stepped aside.

“The architect is from Sinaloa,” said Louis, “He studied in Manchester. That’s what I love about these boys. They’re heavily invested in education.”

They entered a stealth resort made of concrete and tinted glass. It was almost church-like. The River Styx floated in the bay far below them.

Men in golf attire walked about the main concourse, engaged in conversation. Every breast bore the red Polo insignia. Fausto noticed that no one appeared to be armed.

“Hey there, Adonis?” said Louis.

“You give him the grand tour, darling. I need to freshen up. I keep smelling fish.” Dionisio walked down a corridor. Reproductions of medieval art from the crusades adorned the walls.

“Dinner’s at five sharp there, fancy pants. Don’t get sidetracked,” said Louis.

Fausto placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“Not here, son. We’ll talk in a bit.” Louis opened a door with a card key. “Keep an eye on my seabag. Go ahead and clean up. I’ll be back in thirty.”

Louis looked at Fausto. He smiled.

“My boy... I’m so glad the two of you finally got a chance to meet. It means a lot to me.”

45

Fausto

Persephone and Fausto made eye contact.

“See you in a bit,” said Louis. He threw an arm around Persephone’s shoulder and led her up the corridor. His laughter echoed down the hall, long after they’d vanished from Fausto’s sight. Fausto entered the minimalist suite. His view stretched to the horizon through a thin band of tinted glass the width of the entire room. A long sleeve shirt with a blue Polo insignia was laid out on the bed. A pair of khaki trousers were folded beside it. Fausto closed the door. **** The contents of Louis’ seabag were spread out on top of Fausto’s bed.

- a brochure from the Hotel California.

- a navy blue sport coat.

- a tackle box: - 2 large lead fishing weights.

- 3 small sinkers.

- 5 squid lures.

- a fillet knife.

- Fausto’s USMC Zippo lighter.

- the photograph of Louis and his friends on the deck of the River Styx.

“What am I missing?” said Fausto. He was showered and shaved. He wore Ralph Lauren, courtesy of a host he had not yet met. Fausto picked up one of the large fishing weights. There was a circular space with three small holes on the bottom of it. He put it down then grabbed the Hotel California brochure. On the back it read: Meet with florist - 0930 hrs.

“Persephone,” said Fausto. He looked at his watch. The stopwatch read 00:46:05 46

Fausto

“Goddamn their asses, they’re fucking.” Fausto swatted the empty seabag off the bed. “Fucking! Filthy old bastard, what the hell’ve you gotten me into?”

“What’s the matter, son?” said Louis. He closed the door behind himself. He noticed the contents of his seabag on top of Fausto’s bed.

“Sorry, dad. I just-” “Hard to put your head around, isn’t it?”

“What’s going on?”

Louis looked Fausto in the eye.

“Son, I’m...”

“What?”

“I worry what you’re going to do with your life, if the corps doesn’t kill you first. I worry all the time, Fausto, until I’m sick to my stomach.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want you to make the mistakes I did and end up without a pot to piss in.”

“I won’t have anything to do with trafficking drugs, daddy.”

“You got it backwards, boy. I’m no criminal. I’m a warrior. Just like you feel the need to be, which is my fault too. I realize that.”

“What the hell are we doing here?”

“Selling an idea. I need your help to pitch it.”

“To who, the devil?”

“Devil went down to Georgia, Fausto, not Cabo. My friends are venture capitalists.”

“With a stealth mountain?”

“Yep.” “And a professor who does unspeakable things to people?”

“Don’t believe the hype, boy.”

“Who are these people?”

“Revolutionary thinkers, son.”

47

Fausto

Louis walked to the window and looked over the Sea of Cortez.

“Fausto, this Op. is green lighted at the highest level. They use old birds like me to do the groundwork, the bag work. Why do you think we sent for a Marine escort to deliver our bag?”

“I ain’t involved in this.”

“Here are TAD orders attaching you temporarily to my command. The second page is from DOD and USNORTHCOM, signed by General Jacoby. You will escort me to an undisclosed extraction point near La Paz by tomorrow evening.”

Fausto read the document. He frowned.

“What’s in the bag?”

“What does it say in your orders?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what you need to know then.”

“Why the hell did you bring your girlfriend into this?”

“I didn’t. You brought her here. And she’s a lot more than my girlfriend, Fausto.”

Louis repacked the seabag. He paused to look at the fishing photograph then continued.

“I’ve had this seabag since Vietnam,” said Louis, “kind of ironic the way it’s brought you back to me. Don’t let it out of your sight.” He threw the seabag like a medicine ball. Fausto caught it against his chest.

“Yesir.”

“Run your orders under some hot water. We have to eat dinner with these people at 1700. I’ll be back.”

Louis left.

48

Fausto

Fausto stared at the door. He held the seabag to his chest. He thought of the Red Cross message, of his father’s so called disappearance. He thought of the narcos in the black hats. He thought of Dionisio, Omar, and Charlie. Everything was so wrong. Only one thing felt right and he tried not to think of her anymore. Fausto turned and placed the seabag on the bed. Outside the window, a mammoth superyacht approached the island from the east. A helicopter was secured to one of the rear decks. Its rotors turned. Fausto walked to the bathroom and ran water in the sink. He placed his orders under the faucet. The paper dissolved through his fingers. Fausto looked at himself in the mirror.

“I like you.” whispered Fausto.

Someone knocked on the door.

Fausto opened it. Persephone ran into Fausto’s arms. She kicked the door shut behind her. She buried her face in Fausto’s chest and held him like a vise. Fausto caressed Persephone’s hair and neck. The chain of her locket laced between his fingers.

“Fausto, I have to tell you something...”

The helicopter rose from the deck of the superyacht outside. It flew over the windows above them. Shadows from the rotors played over their bodies.

“Just tell me the truth, Seph, please.”

“Fausto, I’m-” Someone knocked on the door.

Persephone ran into the shower and shut the curtain behind her.

“Just a sec.” Fausto opened the door.

“Come on, boy. We’re on,” said Louis. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I gotta use the head.”

49

Fausto

“No time.”

Fausto looked back at the bathroom.

“Let’s go, boy,” said Louis, “Move it.” **** Louis and Fausto crossed the concourse abreast and in step. They both wore navy blue sport coats. They had the same build, the same walk.

Fausto looked at his father. He hadn’t seen him in ages. He’d only heard rumors: Colombia, Nicaragua, then finally Mexico. Fausto had no idea where they were going nor what they were doing, only that he was now under orders to bring the old man home. The Old Man, that’s what everyone called Louis, even his most senior officers did.

Something to do with Louis’ time in Vietnam. Fausto looked down at the bay. The superyacht dwarfed the River Styx. It dropped anchor just beyond it. Men in white Ralph Lauren filled the concourse. They inched their way towards a pair double doors. Chamber music played over the PA system.

Banquet tables filled a massive conference hall. Napkins were stuffed into wine glasses. Plastic plates and plasticware adorned each place setting. Windows stretched from the floor to the vaulted ceilings. One table was elevated above the others. Its back faced the bay and the endless blue. Fausto followed Louis up a small staircase. The table had real china. A bronze centerpiece with two knights riding the same horse stood beside a vase with white lilies. The hall filled with men.

They found places around various tables and stood behind their seats.

“Don’t say word. I’ll do the talking.” said Louis. He stood behind his chair.

Dionisio entered the hall. He wore a white suit. He climbed the steps and took his place behind a chair on the other side of Louis. Two men escorted Charlie into the hall. He wore Ralph Lauren just like Fausto’s.

50

Fausto

Omar followed behind them. He carried a briefcase. The hall filled to capacity. Every man stood behind a chair, waiting. A white tapestry with a red cross in it hung on the wall at the back of the hall. Omar stood behind the chair next to Fausto’s. Charlie stood next to Omar.

“How are you feeling, Fausto?”

“You tell me, Omar.”

Omar looked at Dionisio. Con te Partiro played over the PA system.

A petite man entered the dining hall. He carried an iPad mini. He wore corduroy pants, a white polo shirt and eyeglasses. Everyone applauded. The man waved. Men cheered. Charlie whistled. Everyone in the room clapped except for Fausto. The cheering grew louder.

“Bravo!” said Louis.

He elbowed Fausto in the ribs. Fausto clapped. El Profe urged the room to be silent with his hands. The music faded. He climbed to the top of the steps then turned to address the crowd.

“Brothers,” said El Profe, “today is El Sábado Santo. It is a very special evening. I am so pleased you all made the journey. But this is not a happy occasion.”

“What the hell is this?” whispered Fausto.

“Stand fast, boy.”

“We are at war,” said El Profe, “a holy war against tyranny and evil, against the devil responsible for the loss of over 50,000 lives and for tearing our beautiful country to pieces!”

People applauded. El Profe removed his eyeglasses.

“This demon preys upon the innocent and the guilty alike, on women and children, on our mothers, our sons, our sisters and daughters... Yes, 51

Fausto

we are few and they are many but we shall not rest. We shall remain vigilant and fight with passion and fervor for justice, until the demon has been destroyed and peace is restored to our land.”

“He’s talking about ‘El Sapo,’ Miguel Torrez is on-” “I’ll handle this, boy.”

“But-” “Be still and follow orders.”

“Ours is a righteous cause, my brothers. And I know how hard it is to leave your homes and your entire lives behind to do what is right. But your sacrifice shows your commitment to your families, to your communities, your country, to God, and to the future of all Mexicanos!”

People stood. Everyone applauded. Fausto looked at Louis.

“Who’s sanctioned this?” whispered Fausto.

“I’m a contractor with the full backing of the US government. Now be still.”

“Enjoy your meal,” said El Profe, “and prepare for what lies ahead.

God wills it.”

“God wills it!” replied the crowd.

The professor took his seat at the head of the table. Everyone else in the room took their seats.

Chamber music played over the PA system again.

“Beautiful speech,” said Louis, “you gave me goosebumps.”

“Thank you, Louis. It’s good to see you again,” said El Profe, “And this is?”

“My attaché, Fausto.”

“Mucho gusto, Fausto.”

52

Fausto

“Igualmente señor,” said Fausto.

Servers poured jamaica into wine glasses. Men entered the room with platters of bread and seafood. The hall filled with the sounds of conversation and dining.

“Everyone is here then,” said El Profe. He put his eyeglasses back on.

“Dionisio, you go first.”

“Of course.”

Dionisio stood. He walked to the head of the table and placed a small ice chest in front of El Profe.

“How many?” said El Profe.

“Three months worth.”

“The love of your life isn’t worth more than three months?”

“I will have more, very soon.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.” Dionisio swallowed. He looked at Fausto then back at El Profe.

“Come to the boat tonight,” said El Profe, “We’ll discuss it there.”

Dionisio closed his eyes. He nodded. “Of course.”

He returned to his seat.

“Louis,” said El Profe, “What do you have for me?”

Louis held up a USB drive.

“Intel on our boy’s location and everything you need to handle your business.”

El Profe nodded. Omar stood. He took the USB drive from Louis and brought it to the head of the table. El Profe examined the bottom of his iPad mini.

53

Fausto

“I think you need a Lightning port to USB adapter to read the drive,” said Omar.

“But this is the newest iPad they make.”

“That’s the problem,” said Omar. El Profe sighed.

“Man will resign himself each day to new abominations,” he put down his device. “Soon only bandits and soldiers will be left.1 Did the United States government at least bring me something to view this on?” He tossed the USB drive back to Louis.

“My laptop didn’t make it out of the marina,” said Louis.

“How much am I paying you, Louis?”

Fausto looked at his father.

“Use mine,” said Omar. He opened his briefcase.

“Your attaché is sweating,” said El Profe.

Fausto wiped his face with a napkin.

A group of armed men climbed the steps. They stood behind El Profe’s chair.

“Not to offend now,” said Louis, “but it’s been a hell of a time getting here, my friend, thanks to your buddies in the black hats and whoever’s been feeding them their intel.”

“Yes, I know,” said El Profe, “My government actually helps them, well, at least some of them. They deal with the devil yet they do not want the United States to take action. And now your government is coming to me. Such irony. Do you know the devil, Fausto?”

“Not personally.”

El Profe laughed. “I like you, Fausto.”

Fausto’s stomach sank.

Omar placed an open laptop in front of El Profe. Louis walked to the head of the table.

1

Jorge Luis Borges - The Garden of Forking Paths 54

Fausto

“May I?” said Louis.

“Please,” said El Profe. Louis stood beside him and pointed at the screen.

“Now, this here is Cabo San Lucas,” said Louis. ‘El Sapo’ is currently in a house in the Punta Ballena development, an exclusive community of private residences 3 miles north of Cabo. We believe he is waiting there to meet with leaders from the transnational criminal and terrorist organization called the Hezbollah.”

El Profe nodded.

“If so,” said Louis. “You’re all gonna be in a world of shit down here.

Now, officially my government can’t have anything to do with this operation. President Enrique Peña Nieto has not been given intel on the matter. I am here acting as an independent advisor.”

“Claro,” said El Profe. Louis scrolled down with the arrow keys.

“Now this here is the BLU-80/B "Bigeye," an air-delivered "binary" chemical weapon. The warhead carries two separate, comparatively harmless substances. When they’re mixed together after release they form a lethal agent. Since there are U.S. civilians visiting and living in Punta Ballena, we’ve put together a non-lethal binary mix. It forms a BZ hallucinogen. It’ll work as an incapacitant agent. Fire the rocket from your helicopter. It releases the gas. Your boys hit the beach without any resistance and grab your man.”

“Sounds good,” said El Profe, “you shouldn’t have any problem then.”

“You mean your team should have no problem,” said Louis.

“You are the team, Louis. Every man at this table.”

Fausto, Dionisio, Charlie, Omar, and Louis looked at El Profe.

“Let’s just call it penance for your sins.”

The men behind El Profe pointed their weapons.

55

Fausto

“Now, wait a minute,” said Fausto, “This isn’t our fight, sir.”

“Ours is an ideological battle, Fausto. My knights defend the values of a society based on ethics.”

“What the hell does that mean?” said Louis.

“It means I don’t sleep with the devil, Louis.”

“Horseshit,” said Louis.

El Profe smiled.

Louis pulled El Profe out of his chair by the collar. He put him into a headlock.

“Daddy wait!”

Louis jammed the tip of a palm knife beneath El Profe’s chin and spun him around to face the armed men.

“Bájale!” said Louis. The men continued to point their weapons.

“The Old Man has nothing to lose anymore? Is that it?” said El Profe, “Now that he is dying?”

“Drop em!”

“Don’t listen to him,” said El Profe , “He won’t harm me. I have his dirty secret.”

Sweat rolled down faces. Fingers trembled in trigger wells. Everyone in the hall was on their feet. Men shouted at the base of the stairs.

Fausto gauged the distance between Louis and the gunmen.

“Cada uno es hijo de sus obras...” 2 said El Profe. He could barely breathe now. “Que no Viejo?” He fought for breath in Louis’ arms.

“Let go of me!” said Persephone.

2

“Every man is the son of his own works.” ! Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra 56

Fausto

A man with a pistol led Persephone into the hall. Louis’ seabag was slung over the man’s shoulder. The crowd parted for them. Louis’ expression crumbled.

The knife dropped from Louis’ hand in slow motion. It hit the concrete floor with a metallic bounce.

He released El Profe.

Louis looked toward Persephone then at Fausto.

“I’m sorry, son.”

Gunmen around the room took aim at Louis.

“No!” said El Profe, “Don’t shoot. It’s okay, leave him! It’s alright.”

He massaged his throat and motioned for the men to bring Persephone forward. “El Viejo and I are old friends.”

Louis stared at El Profe.

“Aren’t we, Louis?”

The man pushed Persephone toward El Profe. Her eyes darted from Louis to Fausto to Dionisio. Her bottom lip trembled. El Profe caressed her cheek.

Fausto’s heart pounded in his chest.

“Okay,” said Fausto, I’ll get the son of a bitch! Just let the girl go.”

El Profe looked at Fausto with a suspicious smile then back at Louis.

“The girl? said El Profe. “Fausto, are you aware-” “I’ll do it, alright. Just leave her and my father out of this.”

“Her?” 57

Fausto

“Fausto, please,” said Persephone.

“Oh, this is more vile than I had even imagined,” said El Profe. He roared with laughter. “This is exactly what you deserve old man!” He slapped Louis on the back. El Profe laughed so hard he almost cried.

Louis’ jaw muscles rippled beneath his skin. “At first I was just going to duct tape her neck and make Charlie cut her head off with your little knife there, Louis. Then I would dismember her right here in front of you, maybe video tape it and make you watch it again and again, but, you know what? I think God has something else in his plan for your little familia, cabrón. So, why don’t you apologize for your rudeness and just do as I say, me explico?”

The silence was long and heavy. Everyone watched Louis.

“I’m sorry,” said Louis, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good,” said El Profe. “apology accepted. Now, show me how this thing works.” He tossed the seabag to Louis. “Everyone return to your seats.”

Andrea Bocelli sang over the PA system.

El Profe sat back in his chair. Dionisio, Omar and Charlie took their seats. Charlie took a sip from his jamaica with trembling fingers.

Persephone sat in the chair next to Fausto’s. She gripped his hand beneath the table. Her nails dug into his skin. Louis stood beside El Profe. He opened the seabag and removed the two large fishing weights. El Profe crossed his legs. He made a steeple with his fingers and listened intently.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” said Louis. ****

58

Fausto

A helicopter idled on the tarmac outside the entrance to El Profe’s island fortress. The sun sank on the horizon. Louis, Dionisio, Omar and Charlie ran towards the open cargo door with their heads down.

Persephone and Fausto stood in the middle of the flight deck. El Profe and his men waited at the edge of the asphalt. El Profe walked towards them.

“I’ll come back for you. I swear,” said Fausto.

“You better, Fausto, I’ll kick your ass.”

They embraced.

Fausto looked at El Profe over Persephone’s shoulder.

“We have a deal,” said Fausto.

“Bring him to me and she goes free. I give you my word,” said El Profe.

Fausto pointed to his own eyes then to Persephone and El Profe. He ran to the helicopter and climbed inside. Louis sat in the passenger seat. He wore a headset. He gave orders in spanish. Fausto watched Persephone shrink from view beneath them. The helicopter banked to the west, over the Sea of Cortez.

Persephone watched the helicopter fly away. She felt El Profe’s eyes on her back. A hand touched her shoulder.

“You have nothing to fear from me, señorita,” said El Profe.

Persephone turned around.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a monster.”

“What are you then?

“A believer, a man of my word.”

59

Fausto

“Un caballero?”

El Profe smiled. He removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. His eyes were green. A multitude of men waited at the edge of the tarmac. A train of donkeys descended into the valley from the hillside above them. Ee Profe put his glasses back on.

“Tonight you are my guest.” He offered Persephone an arm. She accompanied him across the concrete. Persephone looked back. The helicopter was only a black speck against the setting sun. “He will be fine,” said El Profe, “I’m sure he will be just fine.” “and my father?”

“Who am I to betray another man’s secrets, señorita?”

The crowd parted like the Red Sea. El Profe escorted Persephone back inside the cave. **** The helicopter landed on an empty beach. Two huts with palapa roofs stood beside a grove of reeds. The sky reddened. Louis wore black. He walked across the sand in fatigues and combat boots. POLICIA was embroidered across the back of his shirt in yellow letters. He looked out at the sea. The River Styx approached from the east.

“Let’s go, ladies!” said Louis.

Charlie and Omar emerged from a hut with a wooden crate on rope handles between them. They loaded it onto the helicopter. They wore Policia uniforms like Louis. Fausto and Dionisio crouched in the sand.

Fausto painted tiger stripes of green camo-stick across Dionisio’s face.

He flipped the tube over then filled in the empty spaces with black.

60

Fausto

“Why are you doing this, Dionisio?”

“He took something precious from me.”

“Hey there, killer, let’s get you tightened up,” said Louis.

Fausto handed Louis the camo-stick. Louis’ face was perfectly camouflaged. He filled in the empty spaces on Fausto’s face with black.

“A dying man has nothing to lose, daddy?”

A formation of pelicans glided above the breaking waves. The River Styx killed her engines 100 meters offshore. One of El Profe’s men climbed into the zodiac and started the engine.

“Not now, son.”

The Zodiac hit the beach behind them. It skidded to a stop. Dionisio and Omar pulled it up the sandy bank.

“Who is Persephone really, daddy?”

“She’s your sister.”

“Let’s go!” said Omar. Charlie and Dionisio held onto the guide ropes of the zodiac. A wave crashed, dragging them back into the shallows.

Louis and Fausto ran to the boat. The helicopter took off in a cloud of sand and spray.

**** El Profe and Persephone crossed the dining hall. Men donned plastic crusader helmets and followed them down a passageway to a stairwell.

They descended deeper into the mountain. At the end of the 61

Fausto

passageway was a chamber. Candles burned. A camera sat on a tripod.

Industrial lights added to the illumination. The room filled with El Profe’s knights templar. Persephone looked to El Profe.

“What is this?” said Persephone.

“Don’t worry. Just stay close to me.”

A señora, another woman in perhaps her late twenties, and a man in boxer shorts and a t-shirt were led into the room. Their hands were bound behind their backs. **** The River Styx pressed on towards Punta Ballena through the darkness. Inside the cabin, tactical lights glowed red. Fausto chambered a round into an M-16 A3 service rifle. The men looked from one to another with hard glances. Charlie turned to Fausto.

“What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just stay close to me,” said Fausto. **** El Profe held Persephone’s hand for support. Ranks of Knights Templar stood behind them. The cameraman removed his plastic helmet and focused the camcorder. He gave El Profe a thumb’s up. El Profe cleared his throat. He pointed at the lens.

“You evil demon. I have seen the video on the internet,” said El Profe.

“That was my mother, cabrón! To do such... such evil things... so now I will show you your mother, your sister and your cuñado you bastard.”

“Don’t do this,” said Persephone. El Profe squeezed her hand tighter.

Tears ran down his cheeks.

62

Fausto

“Do it now,” said El Profe.

The man with the duct tape nodded. **** “Do it now,” said Fausto. Charlie cranked the throttle on the zodiac’s engine. Louis, Dionisio and Omar crouched in the bow of the boat.

They donned gas masks. The helicopter flew above them. It headed towards the shore.

It fired a rocket.

On the beach, a group of wealthy tourists strolled along the oceanfront.

A man watched them from one the balconies of a massive white beach house. He wore a black cowboy hat and gauze wrapped around his head. He carried a 9mm. pistol. The man lit a Delicado cigarette. A loud pop caused everyone to look up. A cloud of smoke engulfed the shore. The sound of coughing echoed down the coast. Laughter rose to the night sky.

Tourists disrobed.

The zodiac skidded onto the sand.

People danced nude in the moonlight and smoke.

“The colors are free!” said a naked man, “They’re giving em’ away!”

He dove into the water.

“This is the end,” sang a well groomed blonde woman with glazed eyes, “beautiful friend-”

63

Fausto

Louis bumped the woman’s shoulder as he ran past her. He led the charge onto the property. Fausto followed his father through the smoke. They burst through a side door, into the kitchen.

“En la boca llevarás...” sang the chef. He drummed on the granite counter top like congas. Olive oil and garlic sizzled, unattended on the range behind him. Louis and his fire team ran past, into the hall to a staircase.

“Daddy look out!”

Gunfire erupted from the top of the stairs. They fell back towards the kitchen returning fire. Rounds peppered the walls. Glass shattered. The banister splintered. Louis charged the staircase with his rifle blazing.

Black cowboy hats dropped in the smoke. A pistolero squeezed the trigger of his pistol one last time. Louis took a round to the stomach.

“Move!” said Louis, “This way!”

Louis ran down the second floor corridor. Fausto caught up with him at a full sprint. Fausto pulled a BZ grenade from his h-harness and threw it into the hall ahead of them. The second floor filled with smoke.

Gunfire erupted downstairs. Fausto, Louis, and Charlie charged the double doors at the end of the hallway. They burst into the master bedroom. A handsome man in a green t-shirt, dog tags and boxers stood in the middle of the room. His eyes were glazed. His hair was shaved high and tight.

“I am not afraid of you or your gasses, old man,” he said, coughing.

“Fausto, down!” said Charlie. He fired his rifle. A pistolero fell in the doorway behind them.

“Good looking out, Charlie!”

64

Fausto

Fausto aimed at a cowboy hat creeping through the smoke near the sliding glass doors of the balcony. He fired a warning shot.

“Get on the ground!”

The man dropped his pistol. He crouched and fell into a fit of coughing. Dried blood stained the gauze wrapped around his head.

Fausto inched closer to him.

Charlie grabbed the pistol from the floor and tucked it into his belt.

Louis zip-tied the handsome man’s wrists behind his back.

“Let’s go!” said Louis.

Fausto pointed his rifle at the cowboy on the floor.

The cowboy looked up at Fausto.

“No mames güey, you mutilated me! Now you return to kill me, cabrón?!”

Outside the windows, Louis and Charlie ran across the lawn, back towards the beach with the handsome man between them.

Fausto ran for the doorway.

“Baboso,” said the cowboy.

Fausto ran down the hall.

“Fausto, quickly!” said Dionisio, “grab his other arm!” He struggled to lift Omar to his feet at the bottom of the staircase.

“Leave me here,” said Omar. His chest heaved. His shirtfront was soaked. His gas mask was completely fogged up.

65

Fausto

“Get your ass up!” said Fausto. He pulled Omar’s arm over his shoulder. “On your feet! Now!” “I like you, Fausto,” said Omar. Blood showed at the corners of his mouth.

They ran through the kitchen. Black smoke billowed. Fire alarms blared. Flames licked at the ceiling from the grease fire burning on the stove. A braid of garlic ignited on the wall. Fausto and Dionisio burst through the side door, into the night air, coughing and gasping for breath. They threw their gas masks to the ground. They ran across the lawn dragging Omar between them.

“Charlie!” screamed Fausto.

Louis shoved the handsome man into the zodiac at the shoreline.

“Come on, boy!”

Charlie ran back to help them.

“Hurry!” said Charlie, “they’ll get us all!”

“He’s right,” said Omar, “just put me-” They tripped. All three men slid across the ground.

Dionisio pulled Omar onto his back. He rose to a knee. Fausto scrambled for their weapons at the edge of the sand.

“Fausto hurry!” said Charlie, running up.

Dionisio took Charlie’s hand. He tried to stand. A gunshot echoed.

Charlie’s head exploded from the devastating impact. His body pitched backwards onto the sand. Rounds impacted all around. Dionisio low crawled across the sand. Two more rounds struck Omar in the back.

66

Fausto

“No!!!” said Fausto. He rolled onto his back and returned fire at the balcony of the white beach house, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Rounds impacted. Fragments of plaster rained down the cowboy. He dove back inside the upstairs bedroom.

Smoke and gas fumes engulfed the coast. Flames rose to the sky.

Dionisio and Fausto sprinted to the zodiac. Fausto cranked the throttle.

The boat cut a wake across the bay. Punta Ballena burned like Hades behind them. Naked people danced on the sand. They frolicked in the streets and on balconies, oblivious to the chaos.

“Not so easy, was it, cabrón?” said the handsome man. He bounced on the deck of the zodiac between Louis and Dionisio’s feet. Dionisio socked the man in the mouth.

“A lot easier than you’d think there, Rico Suave,” said Louis. He fell over sideways.

“Daddy?!”

“He’s hit!” said Dionisio. He applied pressure to Louis’ abdomen with a t-shirt. “Get us to shore, Fausto, quickly!”

Fausto rounded the point of Misiones del Cabo at full throttle. He gunned it towards the arc lights of Playa Médano. **** “Please,” said Persephone, “show some mercy. Tomorrow is Easter. If you claim to be-” “Someone will pay for what he has done to me,” said El Profe.

“If someone must pay, let it be the cuñado but let the women go free,” said Persephone.

“Why me?” said the brother-in-law, “Oh god, don’t do this!”

“That’s not enough,” said El Profe.

“How much is enough?” said Persephone.

“Alright, the cuñado,” said El Profe. He walked to the camcorder and pressed the pause button. “But only if you do it for me yourself.”

67

Fausto

“Do what myself?”

“Remove the head from his body.”

Persephone backed away.

“I won’t do that.”

“Yes, you will,” said El Profe, “And after you do it I will let you go free. I give you my word.”

“You just gave Fausto your word that if he brought you your enemy I would go free.”

“But what if Fausto is unsuccessful?”

Persephone looked at the trembling man in the blindfold, boxers and socks.

“Please don’t kill my husband,” said the blindfolded woman.

“Don’t kill any of us.”

“Consider it your own way out of this cave tonight should Fausto fail,” said El Profe.

“I can’t.”

“I will help you,” said El Profe. He whispered in the ear of one of his knights. The man drew a pistol and pointed it at Persephone’s head. “It will make it easier for you. If there is a gun to your head then you will have no choice. You can do this.” El Profe nodded to the cameraman.

He pushed the record button. The man with the duct tape duct taped the cuñado’s neck. Another man placed a hacksaw in Persephone’s hands. “Are we rolling?” said El Profe.

“Si Señor.”

El Profe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked into the lens and pointed.

“You evil demon. I have seen the video on the internet!”

68

Fausto

**** Fausto helped Louis up the rusty iron ladder to the concrete patio of Dionisio’s swimming pool. Dionisio chained the Zodiac back into place against the cove wall. The handsome man was hogtied on his side on the deck of the boat. Dionisio stretched the canvass cover over the top of the boat and secured it with a padlock.

Fausto and Dionisio ran up the observation corridor lined with windows. They dragged Louis, limping between them. They rushed through the living room, out the front doors to the black Cadillac.

Fausto helped Louis into the backseat. The sky turned predawn-pink.

Dionisio returned with the handsome man. They locked him in the trunk.

The black Cadillac Fleetwood glided down the two-lane highway.

Cactus stretched on for an eternity in all directions. The Pacific coastline appeared then disappeared again. The Cadillac rolled on, cresting another hill. Fausto drove. Dionisio applied pressure to Louis’ stomach in the backseat. Louis sat up.

“Daddy, wait! You have to lie down.”

“Boy, I’ve got this. Ain’t like I’ve never been shot before.”

“Louis,” said Dionisio.

Louis took out a cigarette and lit it with a USMC zippo.

“How far are we from Los Barriles?”

“Under an hour,” said Fausto.

“Let’s get her done then,” said Louis.

“No mames güey,” said the handsome man from inside the trunk. “I’ll kill everyone you have ever known in your life, Old Man!” “You know you’ve got a foul mouth on you there, Miguel.”

“How much is he paying you, Louis?!”

“Louis, darling, you’re bleeding everywhere!” said Dionisio.

69

Fausto

“How is Persephone my sister, daddy?” Fausto looked up in the rearview mirror.

“Aw christ,” said Louis. He exhaled with a cloud of smoke, “I better lie down.” Louis slid back against Dionisio. He closed his eyes.

Domingo de Resurrección (Easter Sunday) 0600 hrs.

The sky glowed beyond the peaks of the Sierra Laguna. The highway turned inland, winding through the desert. The Cadillac passed shrine after roadside shrine.

**** Persephone sat on a lounge chair on the rear deck of the superyacht. A blanket covered her shoulders. She held a cup of coffee between both hands. Her fingertips were stained. She trembled. Her hair blew in the breeze. Persephone stared out over the ship’s wake, towards the sun rising above the Sea of Cortez.

El Profe sat down beside her. He sipped an espresso then placed the cup and saucer on the deck between his feet.

“How can you live with such horror?” said Persephone.

“It is horrible,” said El Profe, “I have dreams you could not even imagine. I wake up screaming like Dante sometimes.”

Persephone looked at El Profe. She closed her eyes then covered her mouth with one hand. She ran for the guardrail and vomited overboard.

“Why did you do this to me?” she said, coughing.

70

Fausto

El Profe caressed Persephone’s back. He gathered her hair into a ponytail and held it for her. When Persephone’s stomach was empty she continued to heave and scream silently over the guardrail. Her tears fell to the sea.

“Los Barriles!” shouted a man from the spotting tower.

The superyacht headed towards the shore.

**** The Cadillac descended into the fishing village of Los Barriles. It passed the country club. A cloud of dust trailed behind them. Fausto followed the dirt road to its end. A Palapa-roofed restaurant sat on the beach. Fan palms blew in the breeze.

“Doña Meche makes a seafood pasta alfredo, boy,” said Louis. His face was covered in sweat in the backseat. “So damn good it makes you want to cry.”

“We’re here,” said Fausto.

All of the chairs at Doña Meche’s sat upside down on the tabletops.

The superyacht dropped anchor in deep water, offshore.

“Go and get her boy,” said Louis, “I’ll stay back with the gear.”

Dionisio and Fausto nodded. They walked side by side over the sand, unarmed. A dingy motored towards the shore. On the hillside behind them, a caravan of Cadillac Escalades descended into the valley.

“Fausto-” “Thank you,” said Fausto, “you’ve been true friend. No matter what happens-” 71

Fausto

“Forget about it, darling. I had my reasons.”

El Profe and Persephone climbed from the boat. Five men in Ralph Lauren with automatic rifles followed behind them. They walked up the beach towards Fausto and Dionisio. Cadillac Escalades filled the dirt road in front of Doña Meche’s. A multitude of armed men climbed from the vehicles. Louis dialed a phone number and pressed the send button. He dropped his cell phone to the floor and kicked it under the seat.

“I like you, Fausto,” said El Profe walking up, “You said you would be here and here you are, on time.”

“How you doing, Seph?” said Fausto.

“This is no longer concerns Persephone,” said El Profe. He opened his arms. Persephone hesitated then carefully embraced him.

“Cuidate mucho,” said El Profe.

“Goodbye,” said Persephone. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and walked right past Fausto towards the black Cadillac.

Men moved out of her way.

“I don’t understand,” said Fausto.

“Where is he?” said El Profe.

“In the trunk,” said Dionisio.

“Fair is fair,” said El Profe. He waved a hand overhead. The passenger door of one of the SUVs opened. A handsome young man with black curly hair climbed from the vehicle. He ran to Dionisio. They embraced. Everyone walked towards Louis’ Cadillac.

“Daddy needs a doctor fast,” said Fausto, “He’s been shot.”

“If El Sapo is in that trunk you may have anything you want,” Sirens wailed. Police vehicles were followed by armored personnel carriers. Humvees, carrying Mexican army troops raced down the dirt road.

Shots erupted. People scattered. El Profe retreated to the boat and speeded toward the superyacht. His knights templar fought it out with the police and military on the beach, exchanging automatic weapons 72

Fausto

fire. Persephone, Dionisio, and the young curly haired man piled into the Fleetwood.

“Papa!” said Persephone.

Fausto fired up the engine. “Everybody get your heads down!” He removed his t-shirt, threw the tranny into reverse and floored the gas pedal. The Cadillac rocketed back up the road towards the police barricade. Fausto waved the white t-shirt outside the driver’s side window. Shots fired. The rear window exploded. Fausto slammed on the brakes.

“We’re unarmed!” shouted Fausto. He waved the t-shirt outside the window again.

“Give me the goddamned phone!” said Louis, “It’s under the seat.”

Dionisio found it and gave it to Louis. It was still on a call. Louis placed it to his ear.

“Roberto, it’s me!” said Louis. “Let us through, damnit. Alright son, let’s go. Back her up real slow.”

Fausto backed the Cadillac to the military barricade. A colonel in the Mexican army leaned into the backseat window.

“No mames, cabrón,” said the colonel.

“I’m hit, Roberto,” said Louis.

“We gotta get him to a hospital!” said Fausto.

The colonel looked around the interior of the car with suspicion.

“Please!” said Persephone. “Ándale pues,” said the colonel, “Get him out of here. Pinche viejo.

Thanks for calling us, compadre.”

“Thank you, compadre,” said Louis.

73

Fausto

Fausto drove past the barricade. They raced up the hill to the carretera.

The black Cadillac Fleetwood glided down the two-lane highway.

Cactus stretched on for an eternity in all directions. Vultures circled overhead. The Pacific coastline appeared then disappeared again. The Cadillac rolled on, cresting another hill. It took the off ramp for the los Cabos airport then pulled over onto the dirt shoulder. Louis handed Fausto a locker key.

“There’s money and three plane tickets. I won’t be needing mine,” said Louis. The young man with the curly hair climbed into the driver’s seat. He shut the door.

“Daddy-” “I just wanted to see you both together, just one time,” “Louis-” “Now get out here before we all go to jail,” said Louis, “Don’t worry, Adonis here will take good care of me.”

“Goodbye, Fausto.” Dioniso kissed Fausto on the forehead. He embraced Persephone then climbed into the passenger’s seat. The Cadillac peeled out. It roared down the highway, away from them.

Persephone and Fausto stood in a cloud of dust staring at one another. **** Louis sat in the backseat of the Cadillac. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Don’t worry, darling, we are almost there,” said Dionisio.

Louis took out a cigarette and Fausto’s USMC lighter.

“Radio!” said Louis, “what kind of half-assed extraction is this anyway?”

74

Fausto

Dionisio turned on the stereo. Guitars played. Louis looked out the window. He exhaled with a cloud of smoke.

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air Cactus blurred by, outside the open window.

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light “No mames güey,” said the handsome man from inside the trunk.

“Don’t think this makes us even, Old Man!” Louis felt the wind on his face. He smiled.

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim I had to stop for the night...

Louis closed his eyes.

The black Cadillac Fleetwood drove down the desert highway. It passed shrine after roadside shrine.

El Fin

75

fausto a novella

stephen richter