5. / Unfinished Business

Prowling around the grounds in the pre-dawn hours - Esteban being a young night owl takes the first watch - Lisiado notices several things aren't right, and the conclusions he comes to are disturbing indeed. There are two vehicles unaccounted for besides Eduardo's silver car, which, according to Marisol, was stolen by the intruders. A sedan and one of the war wagons are gone. Somebody, years ago, had christened the modified pick-up trucks 'war wagons', and the name stuck. Turning the breaker back on, he compares a census of the bodies against the payroll records on the house computer, and realizes a dozen men are missing from the rolls of the dead.

That leaves the matter of the second vehicle Marisol saw pull out behind her "mean-looking" blonde. Had it really been a jeep, or was it the missing war wagon? Who was the 'Catherine Ann Martin' referred to in Eduardo's last fax? Was she CIA, like Eduardo thought? His killer, as Marisol was convinced? One of Ernesto's co-conspirators? And what about Philomena's gallant rescuer? A stranger, a hired killer, wouldn't give a damn about one old woman - but if he knew her, wouldn't she have recognized him? Is she being truthful, or protecting someone she likes - one of the missing men who was stationed here?

Could Ernesto have staged the raid with the help of some turncoats? Arranged his brother's death to seize more power? The thought of a coup has crossed his mind before this, but now there's some evidence to support it. Perhaps that was what Ramirez was away arranging. Those dozen men could be out there right now, awaiting their cue to sweep down and kill them all, to secure the dynasty that Ernesto envisions for himself.

The questions are endless, but fortunately, the night is not. By daylight, Lisiado has determined to go into Culiacan. He and Esteban should have protective wear if they're going to be handling decaying bodies. Philomena gives him a list of cleaning supplies she needs. He refuses both children the trip to town. He can't show favoritism to Ché, or Marisol will bedevil them all. He isn't sure how much of her litany of complaints is bratishness and how much stems from bereavement, but he has no patience for it today. There is also the matter of something he has promised himself, something that the youngsters don't need to see. Explaining it to Esteban will be difficult enough.

For a price, almost anything can be had on the black market. Although not familiar with Culiacan in particular, Lisiado has been trading in the shadows for over thirty years. Finding what they need takes a bit longer than it would have in Guadalajara, where he is known, but by noon, they have two special suits which the individual at one of Culiacan's funeral parlors swears will protect them from everything except bullets and radiation.

They have tacos in town; the thought of another meal in the charnel-house atmosphere of the hacienda appeals to neither of them, and as Lisiado has expected, Esteban is in no rush to return. Let them digest for a while first.

Although he'd hoped the youngest Gomez brother would be content to browse among the shops in the central plaza, he stays close to Lisiado as the older man makes his way to the cathedral. It is an impressive structure. He doesn't really expect to be struck by lightning for passing through the church's doors, and he isn't. It's been years since he last entered such a portal, not since his wedding - no, since the christening Dolores insisted upon for Ché. It takes him a moment to orient himself.

Finding the alcove he's looking for, he lights a candle and kneels to pray for the dead. All the dead. Those newly departed, and those who have reached their eternal reward long before. Some of them, he wishes a peaceful rest.

When Lisiado's watch shows that the siesta hour is well advanced, and the grand cathedral slumbers with the rest of Culiacan, he exits quietly through one of the side doors into the churchyard. He knows what he is looking for. It will be a newer grave, and not enclosed by the ironwork tracery that marks the boundary of the graveyard. Ahh! He locates it just as Esteban catches up to him.

"What are you doing? You can't do that!" the young man objects as he urinates on the headstone.

"Look around you, this isn't holy ground." It is the only revenge he can take on his brother's murderer. "I'd like to meet the man who put him down there. I'd shake his hand and buy him a drink."

Esteban stares at him as he rearranges his clothing. "Who the hell is General Emiliano Marquez, and why are you pissing on his grave?"

"It is my sincere hope that every stray dog in Culiacan will follow my lead," says the older man, eyeing the slab with distaste.

"But it's disrespectful!" Esteban says, wide-eyed.

"Oh?" He takes a step closer to the youth. "And if that was the man who killed Eduardo, would you not do the same thing?"

That silences him. The youngest Gomez looks at the still-dripping marker and meets Lisiado's waiting gaze. "I might," he agrees.

"Do you know why you're here?" Lisiado asks him suddenly. "Why Ernesto only sent the two of us?"

"Because the shipment from Bogota -"

"No. That has nothing to do with it, it just sounds good. We're expendable to him. If you are killed, he becomes the king of the castle. That's why he sent Marisol - she's Eduardo's heir. You think Ernesto wants to share the profits with her someday?" Lisiado shakes his head. "Philomena is an old woman, he doesn't give a damn if she lives or dies, and he sent me because he knows I am your father's man, not his man. Your father will be in prison for years. He's not young anymore; there's no guarantee he'll survive. But meanwhile, your brother is afraid I'll tell about the business he's doing that Nestor would forbid."

There is no protest; Esteban has only to think of what he knows of his brother's nature. "You're sure?" he asks half-heartedly.

Lisiado nods. "You're not a boy anymore, Esteban. Your brother sees you as competition, not as his kid brother. You've got to start watching your back."

"But...you brought Ché! How could you bring your son if you thought there was going to be trouble?"

"Do you think I want my son raised by your brother and his lackeys? By whichever thug decides Dolores is fair game after I'm gone? Before I'd let that happen, I'd spill Ché's blood with my own hands."

Esteban stares at him, stricken. Lisiado feels a twinge of compassion for the young man. He is the odd-man-out in his family, being so much younger than his brothers. "Perhaps nothing will happen. No one's come poking around, we may be able to bury our dead and get out with no trouble at all. If we can manage to scoop out a hole with that backhoe - I've never used one before, have you? - then maybe we can be out of here tomorrow or the day after."

"Do you really believe that?"

The advisor shrugs. "Prepare for the worst. Hope for the best. Let's get back. I'm through here."