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HOTEL RIOS, JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT SATURDAY MORNING, real time
It was unbelievable how much information they'd gotten in just a little over an hour. Oscar was a gold mine. They knew the cartel hierarchy and everything they needed about the security set up and defense. Now the question was what to do with it all.
Tony picked up Oscar's clothing and tossed them onto his lap. "Go into the bathroom and get dressed. As soon as you are in there, turn on the shower and the sink. Leave them on until I tell you to come out."
Oscar nodded and followed orders.
Maria and Tony sat down on the bed next to each other so they could speak softly enough not to be heard over the running water.
"We need to decide what to do with him."
"Yeah, not as clear cut as we would have thought," Maria agreed. Their plan had been to kill the informant and then move quickly against the ranch. Oscar's willingness to help opened up myriad other possibilities…if they could trust him. "Do you think his father will be suspicious of how long he's been gone?"
Tony laughed. "When I left the bar, they were all so wasted not one of them noticed. They've had time for quite a few more by now. We can easily plant him back with them…if that's what we are going to do."
"Risky," Maria assessed.
"Damn risky," Tony agreed. Aloud, he weighed the risks. "If he tells Ramon he's suspicious of us, are we any worse off than right now?"
"Well," Maria considered, "he'll probably up security. But right now, Oscar has no idea what we want the information for. And that's if Oscar is willing to tell him. Even if Oscar changes his mind about getting out, the risk of telling Ramon anything of what happened here tonight far out weighs the benefits for him. I think the kid is really scared of him."
Maria paused. "Tony, do you think…"
Tony looked at her. "You got that vibe too, huh?"
Maria nodded solemnly. "Our mission intel didn't indicate that Ramon did that sort of thing. Do you think Jack…"
"Not now, Maria. I can't even think about what Jack has done or has had to face right now. Let's get him out of there, arrest Ramon, and then deal with it."
"Alright." Tony was right, one step at a time. But still, her mind would not leave some of the things the boy had said about Ramon. How Bauer had stuck this out astounded her.
"So we send him back?" he asked.
"Yeah. Better than holding him and having him go missing. That would be riskier…raise more suspicion."
"Agreed. We'll disappear. So even if he rats on us, we'll be gone and they won't have time to figure it out before the raid." Tony concluded. "But there's another issue."
"Do we have him try to get word to Jack of what's coming down?" Maria said.
Tony looked at her surprised that she had come up with the exact same thought as he had at the exact same moment. Maria was a junior level field operative from San Diego shipped in for this undercover mission. She was good. He wondered if she would consider a transfer.
"Right," Tony agreed simply. "It opens up a whole new set of risks, but would also be of tremendous benefit. Jack could protect himself and Ramon. And instead of leading his army against us when he would initially have no idea about who was attacking at the onset, he could sabotage his own security to help us out."
They both considered this quietly.
Tony got up first. "Let's feel Oscar out a little more about Jack. Then we can decide."
Maria nodded.
"Oscar," Tony knocked on the door.
Dressed and cleaned up, Oscar emerged resolved to whatever was about to happen next. He didn't think they were going to kill him, but he couldn't imagine what else they'd do with him.
"A few more questions," Maria told him.
"Alright," Oscar sat down on the chair which Maria had occupied before. He felt his pocket. His knife and wallet were gone.
"This Jack," Tony began, formulating a plan. "Tell me what he looks like."
Oscar looked at him curiously. "Why?"
"Just fucking tell me," Tony cursed.
"Alright," Oscar retreated. "Not a big guy…about my height. Blond, blue eyes. Has a couple of tattoos…here." He pointed to his biceps.
Tony followed up and described Jack's tattoo.
"Yeah, those are them," Oscar said, surprised.
"I thought so," Tony said. "It is him, Maria," he said to her, expecting her to pick up and play along.
"You know Jack?" Oscar asked suspiciously.
"Briggs?" Maria asked.
"Yeah, that's his name. Jack Briggs," Oscar confirmed, confused. "How do you know him?"
"Don't worry how we know him," Tony smiled conspiratorially at Maria, trying to keep the boy off balance. "We just do. We were friends. Let's just say Jack and I have a history together." When Oscar just stared at him, Tony threw him just a little more. "Jack and I are in the same line of business."
"Like mercenaries?" Oscar asked. Oscar was a little nervous that maybe Tony was lying about the friend part. Not many people he knew, especially at the ranch, were good with the truth. Maybe he was out to get Jack for something now that he knew he was here.
He didn't want to see Jack hurt. When he'd told them about Jack he'd hidden how much he liked him. He was different. He was American for starters. Once, when they were at a bar, Jack had actually talked to him about the States and movies and some about sports. And Jack looked out for him and a couple of the other younger guys. He didn't make it obvious, but he knew Jack had his back…and more importantly, so did the guys that liked to cause trouble in the bunk house.
"Yeah, like that Oscar. Just that I haven't seen him for a lot of years. Something you said about him got me thinking. A hunch that turned out to be right."
Tony turned to the window and pretended like he was deep in thought.
When he turned back, he looked at Oscar sincerely. "Listen Oscar," he began. "I can't tell you who we are. But if you could get a message to Jack it would be really worth your while."
"You mean money?"
"Money…and your freedom. But you need to trust us…just like we need to trust you."
"But what do you want…I mean with Jack…and the Salazars?"
"What everyone wants Oscar…money. And you just gave us a way to make us…and you…a lot more than we had planned. If you trust us."
"Like I have a choice. But I don't know that I can get a message to Jack."
"Why not?" Maria asked.
"He's been gone for two weeks now. No one's seen him."
Tony's stomach sank. "Where is he?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.
Oscar shrugged his shoulders again. That gesture was really starting to grate on Tony's nerves. "Tomas told us he's away doing business for Ramon."
Tony immediately knew that wasn't true. Jack would have had an easier time checking in if he was out from under the scrutiny of the ranch.
"But the older guys, they laugh at that."
"Why?"
"Well, for one, everyone knows something big is happening soon. None of us except Tomas know what it is, but it's weird that Jack would just go away for so long right before."
"Maybe he's getting ready for it."
"Maybe," Oscar agreed reluctantly.
"But," he paused.
"But what," Tony prompted.
"Well, the day before he 'left,' he did something that usually would make Ramon very angry. Something that Ramon would usually issue punishment for immediately. But he didn't. Then Jack was gone."
"What did Jack do?"
Oscar explained what had happened the day of the raid. Everyone knew. Gossip spread like wildfire around the ranch, especially when it involved Jack and Ramon.
"So where do you think he is?" not sure how much planning he could base on the guess of a nineteen year old.
The expected shrug happened. "I don't know for sure…but, personally, I think he's on the ranch somewhere. Training, planning…or injured. Maybe Ramon did punish him and hurt or killed him. It's happened before."
"So you think he's dead?" Tony's stomach knotted. He saw Maria flash him a worried look.
"No, I don't. Not really. Jack is too high up to just disappear. Ramon would use his death as an example to the rest of us. You know 'see, this can happen to anyone.'"
Tony suppressed the image of his friend's mutilated body being dragged through some dusty compound as a threat to a bunch of drug runners. He sighed. Damn, this had been going so well.
"Tony?" Maria asked wondering what next.
"Give me a second," he answered, pushing Oscar out of the chair and sitting down with a pen and notepad.
Oscar and Maria waited anxiously. After a few minutes, he handed Oscar the note. He let the boy read it. Might as well. It was plain enough not to be suspicious, but still a little cryptic. As smart as Oscar seemed, Tony didn't picture him working out the code. He just hoped Jack could.
"If you can find him, give it to him. Like I said, you'd profit from the effort, believe me."
"Wait…so you are sending me back in there?" he asked, panicking.
"Did you expect us to put you in our suitcases and smuggle you out tonight?" Tony chided harshly. "We will get you out. Like I said, trust. You've done nothing to bring suspicion on yourself. As far as anybody knows, you were with a hooker. Keep it that way, play it right and when we act, you'll get out cleanly." He knew the boy would bring some danger on himself snooping around to find Jack. He would just have to be clever about it.
"But don't you need to know whether I find Jack or not…whether he gets the note?"
This time Tony shrugged. "It would help. But remember, we had a plan before we knew Jack Briggs was with Ramon. Either way, we will act. We'll just leave ourselves open to adjusting."
"It would help if you would tell me what you are planning." In his wildest imagination Oscar couldn't figure out what these two were up to. He was less convinced of his police theory right now. But he was excited at the prospect of money and escape—and the intrigue was kind of exciting. He knew they were not being totally honest with him, but all he needed to focus on was his small role. And then hope they were being honest enough to get him out alive—or at least not get him killed.
"Maybe it would. But believe me, it's safer for you not to know."
Oscar nodded thoughtfully. "I should get back now if I'm going," he said solemnly.
Tony patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, handed him back his wallet and knife, and led him out the door.
THE SALAZAR RANCH, TWO WEEKS EARLIER
The light of the moon was enough, once his eyes adjusted, for Ramon to watch Jack breath heavily atop his bed. It was even enough to see the strong tan line from working countless hours outside shirtless that encircled his hips above the waistline of his briefs.
Jack's room was immaculate, as always, except for the empty liquor bottle and tonight's discarded clothing which were strewn on one side of the bed.
Ramon picked them up gingerly a laid the jeans and collared shirt on the chair next to the bed before putting his knee where they had been. When he moved, he moved quickly, grabbing Jack's wrists and pinning them hard near his head. In the seconds it took for Jack to wake up, he'd already lost and been immobilized in his own bed.
"Hello, Jack," Ramon greeted gleefully to Jack's opened but bleary eyes.
Jack tried to buck him before he responded and immediately realized it was futile. Someone had him by the ankles as well. He just couldn't see whom past Ramon's looming figure hovering above him.
"Let the fuck go of me," he ordered, too sleepy and still too drunk to think about what he was saying or to whom he was saying it, simply reacting to being held against his will.
One hand did let go of him and came slamming across his face. "Ahhh," he cried loudly, surprised at the sudden violence raining down on him in his own bed.
"I would think," Ramon seethed, "that you would know better than to give me orders Jack. If you did, you might not be in this predicament right now."
The slap had brought Jack awake enough to remember the raid. The inevitable punishment had begun. He didn't bother to apologize. It wouldn't help. Best now to take what Ramon gave him silently.
Another slap. This time Jack felt the taste of blood in his mouth immediately.
"Nothing to say Jack?" Ramon asked as he hit him a third time.
"I'm sorry Ramon," Jack offered, surprised Ramon wanted the apology. Apologies were usually worthless to Ramon. He simply demanded the mistake never happened in the first place.
Ramon had let him go and now stood by the bed. So this time when the back hand came across his cheek, he had his entire body behind it and the blow dazed Jack momentarily. His mouth was bleeding freely now. What did Ramon want him to say? Fuck it. There was probably nothing he could say or do that would change the course of this beating.
"Talk, Jack," Ramon ordered nonspecifically.
What the fuck about Ramon? "I should have told you about the security changes Benitez had made."
This time the blow was to his abdomen. The tequila pooled there immediately threatened to come back up.
"Don't fucking lie to me Jack," Ramon yelled. And then he was over him again. Close. His angry eyes boring into Jack. "There were no changes. You lied to me then and you just lied to me again."
Jack's eyes flicked back and forth as he studied Ramon's face, frantically trying to make sense of what he'd just said before the next blow came. Ramon had known there was no new intelligence. He knew Jack had lied to him about the intel and Ramon had let it pass.
He'd been set up. With that knowledge, he immediately knew nothing he did or said right now was going to change the course of what Ramon had planned tonight. Claudia's words came back to him. This was not a normal punishment. Jack had seen what Ramon was capable of under special circumstances. Fuck.
Ramon smiled maliciously down at his captive victim as he saw realization and resignation flash across Jack's features.
"What do you want from me Ramon?" Jack asked quietly.
Ramon's smile widened. He brought his meaty hand down gently to Jack's face and dabbed at the blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Then he ran it softly over Jack's reddening cheek. Jack's heart pounded in his chest. The feigned gentleness was having the frightening effect Ramon had calculated it would.
Suddenly Ramon's hand was at his throat, ruthlessly pushing down on his trachea. Jack's hands shot up and clawed at Ramon's thick forearm. He tried to wrench away but his legs were still held and Ramon's weight was heavy on his chest as Salazar leaned his face down to within inches of Jack's.
The smile disappeared as Ramon detachedly studied Jack's reddening face, his blue eyes wide and staring in confusion at this assault, his mouth opened and straining for air that would not move into his lungs. Jack felt the light-headed floating of asphyxiation descending and soon his vision was graying.
"I want everything, Jack," Ramon whispered from somewhere very close to his ear. "You know that's what I always want."
The hand disappeared and Jack gulped for air. Ramon and the unseen pair of hands were gone, allowing Jack's body to curl reflexively into a ball as he coughed and gagged his way back to full consciousness. Reluctantly he opened his eyes just as someone flicked on the lights in the room. Ramon, Tomas, Hector, and an old man he'd never seen before stood staring down at him like some animal in a zoo. Tomas and Hector between them held two pairs of hand cuffs and several lengths of rope.
"Flat on your back, spread eagle, Jack," Ramon ordered.
Jack wiped at the blood on his chin and sat up briefly before Hector and Tomas advanced on him. There was no way to fight from this position and no where to run. He locked eyes with Ramon as he moved to comply. They tied his arms first, his forearms and palms up to the ceiling, the rope secured tightly around his wrists before disappearing over the side of the mattress where it was tied to the bed frame. Then they did the same with his ankles. When they were finished, Jack could barely move.
So badly Jack wanted to ask 'why.' This was about more than today. He'd done everything asked of him. And he sensed Ramon did not know the real truth. If Ramon knew he was an agent, this would be brutal and agonizing, and he'd be doing it in front of the entire ranch, without all this preamble.
He was angry with himself that he felt betrayed by Ramon. How stupid was that—angry like a child that Ramon was treating him unfairly? But that's how he felt, and the unfairness of it all and the fear was forming a lump in his throat that he had to fight momentarily to keep from becoming a sob.
He swallowed hard and met Ramon's gaze once more. He couldn't read Ramon's face. If anything, he looked slightly confused as he looked down at Jack's bound form. Jack could only pray that Ramon was reconsidering whatever this was.
Ramon pulled Jack's desk chair up to the side of the bed. The other three men retreated into the shadows. Ramon's fingers ran up and down the length of Jack's forearm, gently tracing the path of the large prominent vein that ran down its center.
"You've stopped using," Ramon stated simply.
Jack said nothing but watched Ramon's index finger play over the fading scars of the track marks. Nothing had made Jack more relieved than watching those marks begin to disappear over the last several weeks.
"Why?" Ramon asked softly.
"Because I found that I could. In the past, when I tried, I couldn't," Jack lied a little. The truth was he quit because he was scared if he didn't soon, he wouldn't. For the first few months he'd had control. There'd been no urgency, the doses had been small. But that had been changing. The stress of living here had been letting him justify more frequent and bigger hits.
On the first morning he'd woken with cramps and tremors from withdrawal, he'd decided the charade for his cover had lasted long enough. It had been surprisingly hard to manage even the slow taper. At least every time he craved it, which was too often, he remembered that first morning and was able to stop himself.
"Why bother, Jack?" Ramon pushed. "The product is free, it makes you feel good. It never affected your work?"
Jack wished Ramon would take his hand off him. The contact was making his skin crawl. "Because I didn't like being controlled by it."
Ramon smiled at this. That's exactly why poor Jack was lying here at his mercy. Because he didn't like being controlled. Ramon decided not to point the irony of this out to him right now.
"And," Jack continued, "I once over heard you say that you could never fully trust a junkie. And I wanted you to trust me." Jack knew this sounded heavy handed, but it was the truth. Ramon had been speaking to one of the other cartel bosses about a deal that had gone bad. Jack had been in the room and Ramon's words, coming from the drug king he is, had hit him like a punch in the gut. Of course, Ramon had been unaware of how what he'd said applied to one of his top men-standing right behind him.
Ramon pulled his hand away. Jack had never been honest and open with him like that about wanting his approval or trust. He didn't know whether to think his plan was working already, or that maybe he didn't need to do this. He stood and walked away. When he turned back, Jack was looking at Hector and Tomas, trying to read them. Just like Jack to always be looking for a way out even when it was clearly hopeless. Ramon almost felt pity for him. But that wasn't enough to stop him.
Jack saw Hector look at him and quickly look away. Tomas would not meet his eyes. That did not bode well. Then Jack found the old man. Small, dark, wizened, he seemed uninterested in the drama unfolding in front of him. As Jack watched, his ancient fingers wandered absently over a large wooden case. Ramon would make his purpose clear soon enough Jack figured. And whatever it was probably wasn't going to be good for him either.
Jack started when he felt Ramon's fingers back at his wrist. He was dismayed when Ramon tapped at the healing vein on his arm. He was terrified when he spied the rubber tourniquet on the bed next to him.
"Ramon?" he questioned as Ramon pulled a vial and empty syringe from his jacket pocket. He knew he hadn't concealed the panic from his voice.
Ramon did not react. Instead, he made a show of filling the syringe, flicking his index finger sharply against the barrel, and then expertly expelling the small bubble of air trapped beneath the needle. Jack held still as Ramon secured the tourniquet around his upper arm, only his eyes nervously flitting between his own arm and Ramon's hands and face.
Ramon pulled a single alcohol wipe from his pocket and neatly ripped it open. Finally Jack could take no more when the cool sensation of the alcohol wafted over the enlarging vein in the crook of his arm.
"Ramon, no, please don't," Jack pleaded, straining fruitlessly for several seconds against the rope at his wrist and Ramon's strong hand steadying his forearm.
Ramon waited patiently for Jack to relax his arm again then continued undeterred, only stopping and looking at him silently when the needle was dimpling the skin over the vein. His eyes were hard and cold. Time stood still for a moment as Jack saw that needle poised there. This would change everything for him. He'd recover from a beating in a couple of weeks…but this…he'd hardly managed quitting the first time.
A single crimson drop of blood appeared as the needle went in. Ramon stopped and stared into Jack's eyes just to cruelly prolong the moment.
"Please. No." Jack whispered plaintively. Ramon depressed the plunger.
Ramon left the needle and tourniquet in place and slowly sat back on the chair he'd pulled to the bed. He watched as Jack's body went limp and his head fell back to the bed from where it had been straining to watch Ramon work. Jack's eyelids fluttered briefly before his eyes wandered aimlessly in a drunken arc through their range of motion.
Just before his eyelids closed, Jack seemed to summon the control to look at Ramon one last time. Ramon savored the look of hopeless confusion there. Jack looked away before they closed. As they did, Ramon saw a single tear slide down from the corner of Jack's right eye, as the heroin took the very last vestige of his control away.
The room was silent. Hector came to stand next to his brother. Seeing Jack like this, the needle dangling from his arm and a small line of blood trailing from the puncture site, reminded Hector of why he had avoided using this one drug-the drug that brought them most of their wealth-all his life.
"Is he okay?" Hector asked. Jack was stone cold out.
Ramon stood. He pulled at the rubber band around Jack's bluish arm. It came off with a snap. "He's fine. I gave him a lot so he is out for this." With that he nodded at the old man. "Senior," he said respectfully, "you can begin."
Finally becoming animated, Senior Viacorta pulled his heavy case to the bed. Ramon brought the chair around to the other side for the small man. "I trust you will do the same fine work that you've always done for our family," Ramon said proudly, pulling up his sleeve to admire his own tattoo—work the old man had done when he was not so old.
"Of course, Senor Salazar," Viacorta said equally proud. "Just as your grandfather's, your father's, and yours-the Lady will be perfect."
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"A few hours later Hector emerged from the main house. He checked to make sure no one else was up to see him walk back towards Jack's room now that the rising sun was had taken away the cover of darkness. Once he reached the protection of the small porch he stopped to sip the fresh coffee steaming from the mug in his hand before he remembered it was for Ramon. As he stood there, the door opened and out shuffled Senior Viacorta.
"Buenos dias, Senior," Hector greeted respectfully as the old man, stooped from several hours of work, shuffled by him.
Buenos Dias," Viacorta returned. "There is coffee?"
"Yes, in the main house. One of the servants is up, she will fix it for you. You know the way?"
He offered a crooked smile as an answer and continued on by.
On his way to the door, Hector caught a glimpse of his brother, illuminated by the tattoo artists work lamp. He hadn't left Jack's side since he'd given him the drug. Hidden by the glare of the light inside and the still relative dark outside, Hector stood and watched as Ramon rose from the upholstered chair in the corner to examine Viacorta's work thus far.
Ramon smiled and ran his hand around the new ink, along the inflamed edges of the image. Hector remembered how much the tattoo had stung for the first few days. He hadn't been much more conscious than Jack, though, at the time. Ramon had seen to that as well, getting his eighteen year old brother good and drunk before the Senior had appeared at the house. But he still could see their proud father smiling down at him.
Hector didn't think their father would be smiling proudly at Jack this morning. He didn't agree with granting Jack this honor. Only a few outsiders had earned the Lady in the family's history, and they had given decades of loyalty before doing so. Jack had only been clever enough to earn them a decade worth of money in a very short time. Not good enough in Hector's opinion.
But this was not an argument worth having with Ramon. There was something about Jack that attracted Ramon to him like a moth to a flame. And with Ramon, when he was intrigued, logic and reason took a back seat. In Hector's opinion, if Ramon didn't trust Jack, he should just kill him. Period.
Hector went to go in before Ramon's coffee grew cold. But as he turned, he noticed Ramon sit on the bed, close to Jack. Hector stopped. Ramon's eyes travelled Jack's still body, his arms and legs still tightly held by the restraints. After a few more moments he raised his hand and turned Jack's sleeping face towards him. Jack didn't stir and Hector realized Ramon must be topping the dosage periodically to keep him this stoned.
With his hand on Jack's bruised cheek, Ramon let his thumb caress Jack's lips. Hector groaned. Ramon's hand then began to wander down Jack's neck to his chest. He flicked his fingers playfully over Jack's right nipple then continued south. By the time Ramon found and began to examine something, Hector was too far away to see what, just below Jack's navel, he couldn't watch anymore.
Turning away from the window, he leaned his back heavily against the weathered wood of the small house. Hector respected his brother more than any other person in his life, even their father. Ramon had taken their father's small but successful operation and grown it into an empire. But this…this occasional proclivity towards a man…he did not understand it.
Ramon could have any and all of the beautiful woman in this part of the country for the asking. And he did…and he enjoyed them. So why did he do this?
There hadn't been that many. But still…Of late he'd seen Ramon eyeing the Ordonez boy. Most of the men had been like Oscar…young, pretty. But a rare few had been like Jack…attractive to Ramon because of their own power…and his ability to have and control them if he wanted…just because he wanted. Hector didn't recall any of the latter group that had come to Ramon willingly. And most were never quite the same afterwards.
"Fuck," he said aloud. He'd been blind to this part of Ramon's plan. But maybe, even Ramon had been unaware until he'd had Jack bound, helpless, and nearly naked in front of him, like dinner on a plate. Self awareness had never been one of Ramon's strong points. Lust for Jack could have been subconsciously motivating him for months.
He didn't hazard a glance to see where Ramon's hand might have advanced. Instead, he stepped loudly away from the window so Ramon would hear him coming and then fumbled clumsily at the door to give him time to cover what he'd been doing. Of course, he'd be more embarrassed by it than would Ramon. Ramon believed himself a bull. If the bull strayed off the path occasionally, well, that was his right and yet another sign of his masculine strength of need.
"Good morning, Ramon," he greeted more cheerily than he felt as he entered. "I brought you some coffee."
Ramon nodded his thanks then jerked his head towards Jack's left arm. "What do you think?"
Hector stood over Jack. The tattoo was coming nicely. But he also noticed two small new puncture wounds on his right arm over the vein. And that the waistband of Jack's briefs was askew. Close up now, Hector saw the scars that must have caught Ramon's attention. "What are those you suppose?" he asked.
"Interesting, huh?" Ramon acknowledged. "Not accidental. Someone was angry with our friend Jack…or they wanted something." Ramon made a mental note to find out at some point.
Jack stirred—at least as much as he could in tight four point restraints. His hips fidgeted slightly, then his head. Ramon watched as Jack's eyes opened and immediately went to survey his arm. Even with all the heroin, that much art work would still hurt. His head lolled drunkenly back to the pillow when his brain wouldn't process what his eyes saw.
Ramon was slightly amused when Jack tried to rise from the bed as if he never realized the ropes were even there. When he couldn't, his eyes opened wider and he tried to flail more vigorously. The movement seemed to clear the fog a bit and he looked around until he spied Ramon.
"I…I…need to pee," he announce, his speech slow and heavy.
Ramon said nothing, instead, reaching for the kit. He wasn't ready for Jack to surface yet.
Jack grew more agitated as he figured out why he couldn't move and angrily tested the restraints, grabbing the ropes with his hands and tugging.
"Help me up Ramon," he slurred, not making the connection that Ramon was the one keeping him down. "I need the bathroom."
"Sorry, Jack," Ramon said insincerely as he secured the tourniquet one more around Jack's right bicep. "I can't help you. Do what you have to do."
"Fuck," Jack cursed, his eyes dancing briefly around their orbits before closing again as the new dose of heroin rapidly circulated through his body.
Once more the drug worked quickly and abolished Jack's last measure of control. Ramon smiled at the growing wet stain on Jack's briefs and the sheets. "Amazing how quickly a man can be stripped of his dignity, isn't it little brother?"
Hector wasn't smiling. He was slightly surprised that, despite his dislike bordering on hatred of Jack, he did not find this as satisfying as did Ramon. But he did agree with what Ramon had just said. "Yes, Ramon, it is," he agreed, not wanting to spoil his brother's pleasure.
Senior Diaz shuffled unannounced through the door, so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the puddle that had just formed underneath his comatose client.
"Good work, Senor," Hector congratulated then turned to his brother. "Ramon, I will stay here if you would like to shower and have breakfast."
Ramon seemed to hesitate; as if afraid he might miss something. But he did need to take care of his own needs. "Thank you, Hector," he said. His eyes surveyed Jack's body one last time. "Tell Tomas to take the men…all the men…out to the training fields today. I don't want curious eyes watching the goings on around this room. Later, after the Senior is finished, we will move Jack into the main house." He finished his orders and strode out the door.
Hector retreated to the stuffed chair in the corner. "I don't envy you, you poor son of a bitch," he said under his breath to Jack, unheard by the old man over the noise of the compressor. "You picked the last man in this world you should piss off."
He pondered Jack's pathetic state for a few more moments. Then he closed his eyes to catch some rest. Ramon was surely going to be distracted for who knew how long. The weight of the ranch and the business would fall on him until Ramon got this out of his system—that was when Jack was either proven, or dead.
BEFORE SUNRISE, Saturday Morning, the Salazar Ranch, real time
Oscar pulled the van to a stop in front of the bunk house. "Padre," he shook his father's shoulder, "we're back. Wake up." A long ten minutes later, the van parked near the garage, he ambled slowly back towards the bunk room, two partially empty bottles of whiskey in his hands that had been left in the van.
Finally working up the courage, he feigned a drunken, stumbling gait and veered far off course, his detour taking him by the main house, around the side, and towards Jack's room. To add to the act, or to bolster his courage, he didn't know which; he finished one of the bottles.
He was nervous at the risk he was taking, but not too much. Drunkenness and taking up with woman was about all there was to do around here after work. Well, except for drugs. But he steered well clear of that. The one thing that the Salazars were tolerant about was drunken mishaps. Boys will be boys, that sort of thing. His age would give him yet another bye if he was caught drunk where he wasn't supposed to be.
During his amble around the compound, he noted where lights were on. He'd been in the residential part of the main house enough to have an idea of who occupied which rooms.
But it was impossible to know what was usual. So the information wasn't all that helpful.
He flopped down onto the small porch in front of Jack's room after walking around the small annex house. There was a faint glow on Tomas' side, but only darkness on Jack's. It was too much to hope for that this ploy would prove to be effective. Tomorrow…on Sunday because they were expected to work on Saturday, he would borrow one of the ATV's and check the outbuildings scattered all over the ranch. He'd taken them out for fun before, so borrowing one would definitely not be suspicious.
Unintentionally, he'd finished the second bottle during his wanderings, so when he tried, he found feigning sleep was not a problem. He nodded off leaning against the porch post.
"Kid, wake up."
He opened his eyes to the grey light of early morning and with Tomas standing sternly above him. He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed.
"What the hell are you doing over here?" Tomas demanded angrily.
Oscar fumbled for words and tried to stand up. "Uh…" he stammered. He looked around him as if trying to figure it out himself. "I think I had too much to drink."
"Si, obviously," Tomas said, reaching down and roughly pulling him to his feet.
Oscar figured he couldn't have been asleep too long. He felt more drunk than hung over. "I got laid last night," he announced triumphantly while surveying the lack of contents in the bottle in his hand. He grinned stupidly to add to the effect.
"Oh, good for you," Tomas said sarcastically. "Now get your horny ass back to the bunk house and get ready for work and I won't tell Ramon about this."
Oscar, relieved he had been right about this not being a punishable offense, hesitated and turned, looking at Jack's door. "When's he coming back?" he asked innocently. "He told me I could borrow some books. I'd really like them."
Tomas smiled at him. The kid was a fish out of water here. He was beginning to regret urging his father to bring him into the cartel. Oscar didn't have it in him to pretend to be blind, deaf, and dumb as Tomas himself had all these years. As Oscar grew older and more experienced, he would become a threat to Ramon--just like Jack was now. And look where all his talent had gotten Jack. Tomas was sickened at what Ramon had put him through. But it was not his place to judge Ramon Salazar.
"He'll be back soon. Maybe today." At least that's what Ramon had been planning. Jack was healing and through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. But he also knew Ramon was still not satisfied. Tomas was confused at what Ramon was doing. But again, this was not his business.
Tomas shoved Oscar in the direction of the bunk house. But both stopped in their tracks when they saw a third man walking towards them.
Jack's gait was slow and steady. As he grew nearer, Oscar saw that he did not look good. His clothing was disheveled and he looked pale—and bruised. Oscar was both amazed at his own timing, catching Jack at the moment of his return, and embarrassed to see him like this. Jack was always so together and in control—even when in pain. He immediately thought he'd been correct about what he'd told that Tony guy. Ramon had had Jack on the ranch this entire time. Though he thought he was right, he couldn't understand why Ramon would do that.
Hesitantly, reluctantly, Jack slowed as he neared them. "Tomas," he said, barely meeting Tomas's gaze.
"Welcome back, Jack," Tomas greeted dolefully, continuing the useless charade for Oscar's benefit—as if he'd really been gone.
Jack didn't seem happy to be 'back.' "Hello, Oscar," he mumbled perfunctorily as he began on his way again.
Oscar saw his opportunity. He covertly found the note in his pocket and grasped it lightly in his hand. "Good morning, Jack," he greeted far too cheerily, lurching away from Tomas' grasp. The stumble he feigned put him perfectly in Jack's path, causing them to awkwardly collide.
Oscar's heart was pounding. He respected Jack, and he liked him. Once in a while, Jack would make an effort to speak with Oscar in English so he could practice. Jack was different from how he was while working - on the rare occasions he'd been alone with him. And Jack really had offered Oscar some books. But he still had a healthy fear of him too. He'd seen what Jack was capable of.
When they bumped, Jack cursed quietly and reached out to right Oscar. Oscar grabbed Jack's hip, ostensibly for stability, but actually as the perfect cover to slip Tony's note into Jack's pocket. Oscar saw Jack glance down at him and he knew that Jack had felt his hand. Oh, please don't give me away, Oscar pleaded silently looking down at the ground to avoid Jack's eyes.
But Jack did not skip a beat. He pushed the boy back towards Tomas. "Get a hold of yourself Oscar, God damn it," he swore and shoved past.
Tomas grabbed the boy roughly and pushed him forward. Oscar couldn't believe he'd pulled this off. Now all he had to do was wait and hope that Tony hadn't been bull shitting him. Oh, and that Jack didn't come after him pissed because Oscar had talked about him to an outsider. And then he had to pray that Ramon never found out.
Suddenly, he wasn't all that relieved.