Muerte Resurrected

2. Spain, The Resurrection

Chapter 2

Spain, The Resurrection

Colonel Ethan Wade, USMC, retired, watched a man and a woman as they shopped in the Spanish open-air market. Wade stealthily made his way through the market. He covertly observed the couple through the bustling crowd. Customers handled the fruits and vegetables, smelling and gently squeezing the produce, checking for quality and ripeness. Wade picked up a piece of fruit and pretended to examine it. But it was the man and woman who held his interest. The man had shoulder-length black hair and a thick, full beard. He stood head and shoulders taller than most people in the market. He wore white cotton slacks and a black polo-type shirt that accented his broad shoulders and muscular arms. In his left hand was a woven bag filled with fruits and vegetables.

The tall woman had short black hair that enhanced her handsome features. She wore a brightly colored print cotton dress that highlighted her deep brown tan. As the couple left the market and walked toward an area of luxury villas, Wade followed them. Up ahead, the street made a sharp left turn around the corner of a building, causing Wade to momentarily lose sight of them.

Speeding up his pace, Wade turned the corner, nearly running into the man.

Ready to strike, recognition showed on the man’s face. “Colonel Wade?”

“Hello, Rico,” replied Wade. “Hi, Ramona,” Wade said to the woman standing behind Rico. “I was on my way to your home when I saw you in the market. I didn’t want to draw attention there, so I followed you home. I see you haven’t forgotten your tradecraft.”

A concerned Ramona moved to Rico’s side, “What brings you here?” she asked Wade.

“I need to talk to the two of you.” Seeing the alarm on Ramona’s face, Wade said quickly, “You are not compromised. There is no danger.”

“Come to our home, where we can talk.”

Wade was impressed with the Villa. Its shiny tile floors and bright white walls gave a feeling of coolness to the interior. Rico led Wade through a hallway out to a patio. The dark green, tiled patio floor stopped at the edge of an infinity pool that looked over Valencia's blue Gulf. “You have a beautiful place here, Rico,” said Wade.

“The weather is perfect year-round, and our families are close by.”

Ramona came out of the house and said, “Please, have a seat. Refreshments are on the way.”

The three moved to a glass-topped table and sat down. Rita brought out a tray of fruit and cheese and a decanter of refreshing tropical fruit juice. She then retreated back into the kitchen.

“Please, have something to eat,” said Ramona to Wade.

Rico asked, “Why, after all of this time, have you decided to visit us?”

Wade unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt and reached inside. He removed an envelope from a flat fabric case and handed it to Rico. “This explains why I’m here.”

Rico took the envelope, opened it, and removed a single piece of typewritten paper. Silently, Rico read and then handed the letter to Ramona. After reading and rereading the letter, Ramona said, “You have to be shitting me! The President of the United States?”

Wade laughed, “It’s no joke. He is asking you to reactivate. Not only you but the entire team, including me.”

“What happened that’s so important that we need to reactivate?” asked Rico.

“We have information from a vetted source that a terrorist group is about to receive a nuclear device. The device is Russian-made, similar to our suitcase bomb, but larger and powerful. We need to find out who is selling and who is buying. Then neutralize them and the bomb. It was General Callahan who recommended our team.”

“Have you talked to the other team members?”

“Most of them. I have contacted Wolf and Benny. They both agreed to the reactivation. Wolf is arranging transportation to meet Chang and Brody in Wyoming. Brody and Chang don’t know we’re coming. I wasn’t able to contact them before coming here.”

Rico turned to Ramona, but she said, “We’ll do it before he could speak. Rico and I have kept up with our skills, and he has been acting like a caged lion since the last mission.”

Wade looked at Rico, who had a lopsided, guilty grin. Reaching out, Rico wrapped his arm around Ramona’s waist. “Yeah, count us in. What are you calling the mission?”

“Resurrection,” replied Wade. “After all, you guys have been dead for several years.”

Saying Goodbye

With Wade at their side, Ramona and Rico walked hand in hand along the sidewalk that bordered the broad avenue leading to a neighboring home. The brightly colored nearby buildings and the fragrant plants were pleasant to the senses. The three turned onto a side street and came to an open, black, wrought iron gate. As they passed through the gateway, two elderly couples greeted them.

Ramona smiled brightly, “Momma, Papa, it is so good to see you.” Ramona hugged first her mother and then her father.

Rico wrapped his arms around his mother and kissed her cheek. He then shook his father’s hand, and then the two embraced. “Mama, Papa, Señor, and Señora Cortez, Nathan Wade. We are old friends from the Marines.”

Wade surprised them when he spoke in fluent Spanish, “It is a pleasure to finally meet all of you. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

“Come,” said Rico’s mother, “I have food and drink inside.”

Rico winked at Wade, “Our mothers always have food and drink ready for guests, no matter what the time of day.”

Inside the Villa, a cool breeze flowed through the patio, over the red-tiled floor covered with ornate rugs, and out the open windows. On the walls were colorful paintings of sun-darkened people working in the fields. Mother Garcia led everyone out onto the patio. They were greeted by the raucous chatter of a colorful parrot sitting on top of a black-barred cage.

“Parlanchín (Chatterbox), hush, we have guests,” said Rico’s father. The bird bobbed his head up and down but remained silent. “Sometimes, I think he understands me, no matter what I say.”

Everyone sat at a large table covered with a white tablecloth. Wade could smell refried beans and something else that made his mouth water. A young man and woman, dressed in black slacks and white blouses, began to bring dishes out and place them on the table. “Come, Señor Wade, eat while the food is hot,” said Señora Garcia.

While she passed the plates, Señor Garcia asked, “Ricardo, why have you asked us to meet with us like this?”

Rico tore a tortilla in half, folded it, and dipped it into his beans. “Ramona and I have been asked to do some special work for the government. We will be leaving in the morning. We wanted to spend the evening with you.”

Rico’s mother looked concerned and pointed her finger at Rico. “No more the shooting! You said it was over.”

“No, momma, no more shooting. Some equipment is missing because Ramona’s and because my clearances are still good….”

Rico’s father interrupted, “Señor Wade, you have asked them to do this, this special work?”

Wade was uncomfortable when he lied, saying, “Yes, I recommended them. I took the contract and asked them to help me.”

Ramona’s father leaned forward, “What is this thing, this missing equipment?”

“I’m sorry, Señor Cortez, but it is special equipment that I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

“No more shooting! I don’t want my boy coming home with more holes in him. He did before, you know.” Señora Garcia clasped her hands in her lap.

Wade almost smiled at what was said, but he knew where Rico had gotten those holes in him. The man had a handful of Purple Hearts. ‘I hope to hell none of them get holes in them and that they all come home safe.’

After dinner, they all went out to an open patio. An ocean breeze cooled the evening air as everyone took a seat close to the swimming pool. Señor Cortez asked, “Señor Wade, where are you from?”

“Born and raised in Laredo, Texas. My father was a Captain in the Border Patrol.”

With a twinkle in his eyes, Cortez said, “My people come from Nuevo Laredo.”

“Nuevo Laredo is a beautiful town that has seen better days.”

Cortez pressed his lips together and nodded his head. Then he chuckled, “I’ll bet our fathers traded shots across the Rio Grande!”

Wade laughed out loud, “Now that’s right possible. Sometimes those gunfights would go on for hours.”

“Si,” said Cortez, clapping his hands together with a laugh.

Señora Garcia asked, “You are married, Señor Wade?”

“I was. My wife died in an auto accident many years ago.”

Señor Garcia said, “You were an officer in the Marines? My son has mentioned your name in the past, I think.”

“I was Rico’s commanding officer for many years.”

Rico’s mother looked at Wade as if he had been the one to personally put the holes in her son. But then her face softened, “You take good care of our children while they are gone.”

“I will do my level best to keep them safe.”

The two servants came out to the patio carrying two chrome buckets filled with ice and bottles of Estrella Damm. Garcia reached into the bucket for a beer bottle and looked up at Wade. “Cerveza?”

“Si, gracias,” replied Wade.

Soon, everyone had a cold beer. Wade asked Garcia, “How do you like it here in Spain?”

“At first, we missed our friends, but we adjusted quickly with the Cortez’s here.”

Señor Cortez said, “Because we speak the language, we quickly made friends.”

Ramona said, “When Rico and I retired, it was easy for us, with our families here.”

There was an uncomfortable silence until Wade said, “I know how and why you had to come here. Your son, Señor Garcia, and your daughter, Señor Cortez, did a great service to our country. It was dangerous work and could have been dangerous to you also.”

Garcia pressed his lips together, thinking, and said, “You know my son’s story. I wanted him to go to college. But because of circumstances, he was forced to join the Marines. I thought, “At least he will have a life. But he did go to college, and he became an officer.”

Rico, listening to his father, remembered that night that his life changed forever.

Fifteen Years Earlier

The Texas sky was filled with stars and insects. The flat open fields of squash and okra seemed to glow in the moonlight. A metal-wheeled irrigation system sprayed water across the crops. Nineteen-year-old Rico neither saw nor heard any of it. Rico only felt the hammering of his heart as he stared at the man's body he had just stabbed. A thirty-year-old boozer and bully, Sanchez disliked the handsome Rico, who was intelligent beyond his years. At every opportunity, Sanchez would harass and goad Rico.

But tonight, the drunken Sanchez crossed some imaginary line when he called Rico the son of a w***e. Rico hammered his fist into Sanchez’s jaw and dropped him to the ground. When Sanchez got up, he held an eight-inch stainless steel harvest machete in his hand. The heavy blade gleamed in the moonlight. If Sanchez thought Rico would cut and run, he was wrong.

Rico’s right hand struck like a rattler. He gripped the wrist of Sanchez’s knife hand.

Rico’s left hand wrenched the knife from Sanchez’s grip. It could have been over then, but Rico’s blood was up, and he slashed Sanchez’s neck and then again across his stomach.

Now, Sanchez lay on the ground, his life’s blood spurting out with each heartbeat.

Rico turned and ran for home.

Rico’s father had been the farm foreman for nearly fifteen years. Rico’s life was good because of his father’s hard work and fairness to the farmhands. But as Rico headed home, he was sure that he had just destroyed everything his father had worked so hard to build.

The Present

“Ricardo, Ricardo! What degree did you get?” Rico’s father questioned him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you ask?”

“What degree did you earn?”

“Poppa, you know it is a Master’s degree in Business Management,” replied Rico.

“Your father knows,” said Rico’s mother. “He just likes to hear you say it.”

Cortez said, “Our Ramona did the same in the Marines, but she had two years of university before. Did you know these two knew each other before the Marines?”

“Yes, I did,” said Wade, “Funny how life goes; you leave a place, your friends, and years later in some faraway place you meet again.”

“As kids, they were sweethearts,” said Ramona’s mother. “They didn’t see each other for years, but now they are, married.”

Ramona looked at her husband and remembered, ‘He was going to kill me once, thinking I was a spy for the Mexican Cartel.’

Five Years Earlier

Ramona, working undercover for ICE, had been transported to Las Vegas by s*x Traffickers. A man named Rico Banderas, who looked familiar, claimed her for his own. One of the bosses of the Cartel told her to spy on Banderas. Banderas found out she was spying on him and took Ramona for a one-way ride into the desert.

Rico didn’t respond to Rosa’s questions but took Rosa firmly by the elbow and guided her out to his car. “Get in,” he ordered her.

Rosa felt a knot of fear in her stomach. ‘Something’s wrong!’ she thought.

Rico drove the Jag onto the highway and began going fast. Soon he took a turn-off that became a two-lane paved road. He accelerated to 110 miles per hour. Suddenly Rico slammed on the brakes and turned off onto a dirt road. He drove far enough down the road until the Jag was out of sight of the paved road. He stopped the car.

Rosa eased her hand into a pocket of her dress. Using her thumb, she opened the small sharp blade of a knife. She nearly vomited when Rico pulled a pistol seemingly from nowhere and placed it against her temple. “Okay, Ramona Cortez, who are you working for? Tell me the truth, and you will live. Lie to me, and maybe someday someone will find your body.”

Rosa’s mind spun. She could taste her fear as bile came up into her throat, ‘How does he know who I am?’ she wondered. ‘He must know everything. I can’t bluff him.’ She swallowed and forced her fear to the back of her thoughts. Rosa said, “I’m an agent with Homeland Security. You f**k with me, or you kill me. They will hunt you down. I’ve already reported you to the authorities. They know who you are and that I’m with you.”

Rosa thought Rico would kill her, but he lowered his pistol and put it away.

“When did you join Homeland?” he asked. Rico’s demeanor changed, confusing Rosa, who still gripped her knife.

Thinking Rico knew almost everything already, Rosa decided to share some of her details. Maybe she could make it out of here alive. “I’ve been an agent going on eight years,” she replied. “I’m not interested in you, at least not right now. I want the trafficker. That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Rico. “You know the players and their names. I want to know why you are spying for the cartel?”

‘How does he know all of this? Is there a leak in our team? Has someone ratted me out?’ Rosa asked herself. “When the cartel saw your interest in me, they told me that they would get me my citizenship if I spied on you.”

Rico sat staring out the car's front window, making Rosa wonder if she would have to try to kill this oversized son-of-a-b***h.

Rico made a decision. He turned and faced Rosa. He said in Spanish, “Ramona bologna serás mía.” (Ramona bologna, you are gonna be mine.) It was a childhood chant that he had teased Ramona Cortez when they were kids, and she was the prettiest girl in the neighborhood.

The look on Rosa’s face was one of shock and surprise. She followed moments later with, “Rico? Rico Garcia! You have changed so much! You are so much bigger! You look different.” Rosa searched Rico’s face, and then she said, “Your eyes, I remember them as brown, not green.”

Rico said, “Many things have changed. Right now, you and I have a problem. We’ll get something to eat and then go back to the apartment. Later, I have a meeting to attend, and you’ll be going with me.”

It did change. Rico and Ramona became a team. Colonel Wade made it possible for Ramona to re-join the Marines. Rico climbed the Narco-ladder of command to become the head of one of the Mexican Cartels. Together she, Rico, and Rico’s team brought down several Cartels. They faked their deaths, and Rico moved their families to Spain for safety from reprisal.