Lex talionis
Chapter 06. Face to face
ADIC Reynolds was a controlled, laconic man, but on that occasion, he closed his eyes, tilting back his head, letting his frustration show.
"Are you telling me, Agent Scola, that ASAC Valentine is also missing?"
Stuart's gesture was one of faint helplessness.
"He left a message that he was going to look for Isobel, at least..." Elise interjected shyly.
"Yes, and he didn't cover his tracks like she did," OA hastened to add.
"Do you think you will be able to locate him?"
"We'll do everything we can, sir," Maggie assured.
She waited for the ADIC to leave the JOC to address those present.
Everyone looked at her tensely, expectantly.
The lack of information made Maggie feel on shaky ground, and she still wasn't strong enough after the gas incident. She took a deep breath before addressing them. Jubal's shoes felt enormously over-sized to her, but she would do her best to live up to them.
She was sure that Jubal and Isobel had had their compelling reasons for leaving, even if she couldn't understand them now. However, even if they had decided to act on their own, Isobel and Jubal needed them. The team wasn't going to let them down. Not if she had anything to say about it.
"OK. If there is one thing we know for sure, it is that Vargas is threatening us all. We cannot let Isobel and Jubal walk around alone and without backup of any kind. We have to find them. I'm sure Jubal left us some clue. Come on, people! Let's prove why we're the best team in the FBI."
·~·~·
While waiting for Jubal to arrive, Darío found out that Ernesto Caldera, the GN agent who investigated the case, had retired six months ago and had gone to live in Mazunte, Oaxaca.
In addition, using his contacts, Darío managed to get Caldera's number and contact him despite his retirement. He tried his luck and sent Caldera some messages.
The truth was that Isobel was grateful for the distraction. She didn't know if she would be able to handle the situation with Jubal when she had him in front of her.
After having introduced himself, Darío gave to the former agent an overview of the situation, leaving Isobel out of the picture, of course. Caldera had agreed to talk to him by videoconference about the case.
"[But I can't promise you that I'll remember much, Agent Montero]," said Caldera once they were facing each other. [I handled many cases and this was just one more.]
The image of Caldera seen on the screen revealed a gray-haired fifty-something with a horsy face and listless eyes, who looked as if he was thinking that this was just a waste of his precious time.
"[Of course, I understand]," said Darío, politely. He began by giving him a summary of the facts, to refresh his memory. [I couldn't help but find the case file a bit... terse]," he mentioned then. "[Do you remember any details that might have been left out?]"
Caldera apparently thought for a few seconds. "[I can't say I do, no.]"
"[Anything]," insisted Darío, [however small, it may be of help.]"
"[No. It's been a year since that, sorry.]"
"[Mmm... Okay.]"
Darío then asked him about the irregularity with the autopsy report.
"[Would you know why?]
Caldera shrugged his shoulders with a dismissive expression.
"[I don't know. A clerical error, perhaps? Maybe the coroner made a mistake in dating the report? No idea.]"
"[But apparently Dr. Núñez was dead even before the crime took place.]"
"[Really? I don't know. I don't remember the dates]," said Caldera with excessive disinterest.
"[What about José Ramón Ambrós? In the file, the driver is listed as missing, but his landlord-]"
"[Look, agent Montero,"]" the ex-agent abruptly but condescendingly interrupted him, "[this is absurd. I do not understand the reason for your interest in this case. The family of the victims had a very hard time. There's no point in going around stirring things up after all this time]".
From behind the laptop, Isobel looked at Darío with a tense face. He did not return her gaze, but for an instant it was obvious that he was uncomfortable.
"[Well, to bring the culprit to justice, for example]," Darío replied suggestively. The family would certainly appreciate that.]"
"[I'm not saying no. But in reality, it will only hurt them more. It won't bring back their loved ones... Forget it, Agent Montero. It's not like it's going to get you any credit to solve an cold case like this. Why don't you just let it go?]" Caldera said applying a clear paternalistic tone to the question, and grimacing reproachfully.
Darío's eyes hardened. He nodded as if he understood something.
"[Yes, that's true]," he conceded softly, "[May be you're right...]"
Caldera seemed satisfied. Darío thanked him for his collaboration and the two said goodbye with apparent cordiality.
When they cut off the video call, Isobel was quick to jump in. "[Come now. He doesn't remember anything, but he does remember that the family 'had a hard time']," she said, making a skeptical gesture, raising her hand in the air. The irritation she felt about Jubal's imminent arrival had her a bit on edge. "[And how he cut you off when you mentioned the driver! A house in Mazunte... A rather expensive and exclusive place for the pension of a NG agent, don't you think?"] If she had had the resources of the JOC, Isobel would be asking for a report on Caldera's finances right now. [This one has been greased. I don't know by who or why, but it's clear as day he's a liar]." She looked with some unease at Darío, who remained silent and somber, fearing that he was offended by her accusations against his colleague "[Isn't he?]"
She shouldn't have worried. "[Like a rug on fire]," Darío agreed, clearly disgusted. He closed the laptop with a sharp gesture.
·~·~·
Pressing the gas pedal, it took Jubal a little less than three quarters of an hour to reach the hotel in Ciudad Acuña where Isobel had told him she was staying. After parking, he took from the back seat of the car the backpack with the few things he had had time to buy at the airport before catching the plane (a few changes of clothes, some toiletries and little else), and headed for Isobel's room.
Before knocking on the door, Jubal took several slow breaths. He regretted not having forced himself to sleep during the flight, but he managed to drive the pain out of his body and the weariness out of his mind.
He knew what he was going to face. Isobel could be a formidable foe. She would put up a fierce fight. But what would be settled in that contest was too important to assume defeat. Jubal had to win. No matter what. He took a last breath, gathering his strength, and tapped three times on the wood of the door.
·~·~·
Isobel waited for Jubal's arrival, tirelessly pacing the room. She had been doing so practically since Darío finished talking to Caldera.
"Breathe, Isobel," Darío said quietly, looking worriedly at her. I assume you trust this man. Give him a chance to explain what he has come to tell you."
Isobel exhaled. Her friend was right. She stopped her useless wandering, sat down on the edge of one of the beds and closed her eyes, trying to find calm inside, somewhere.
However, when Jubal finally knocked at the door and Isobel opened it for him, she could not help but riddle him with her black eyes. He frowned at her tremendously. Their gazes clashed.
Jubal passed inside and Isobel closed the door without either of them averting their eyes.
It was inconceivable that anyone could be so happy and so angry at the same time to see another person. The last time Isobel had seen him, just before she left New York, Jubal lied in an hospital ICU bed, and there was no telling when and in what condition -or even if- he would ever wake up. Now she was on the verge of tears just from the relief of seeing him conscious, lucid and standing on his own two feet, but she was incredibly irritated by the unnecessary risk he was taking by coming there, and without even an escort. It made her want to hug him and shake him at the same time.
If Isobel had known that Jubal felt exactly the same way, she might even have found it amusing.
Having her physically in front of him was a real challenge for Jubal. He had been so afraid of not arriving in time, that Vargas' henchmen would have arrived earlier just as the capo had told him... Or the alternative, which was almost worse. He dropped the backpack, which fell with a thud onto the wooden floor, and took an impetuous step toward her. Isobel didn't back down. Unfortunately, his impulse to yell at her for her senseless disappearance completely neutralized his desire to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. Therefore, he did neither, leaving him with an unpleasant feeling of helplessness.
"Come in," Isobel told him somewhat dryly.
Jubal studied the room: a couple of beds and a small table with a large window overlooking a narrow balcony, and his eyes met with a young man sitting at a laptop looking at him with some curiosity.
"This is Darío Montero," explained Isobel, her voice tense, before Jubal could ask, "from the Federal Police. Well, it's the National Guard now, you know. He's been a friend of mine for years and he is lending me his help. Darío, this is agent Jubal Valentine."
The stranger stood up holding out his hand and Jubal shook it, with an intrigued expression.
"Pleased to meet you," said agent Montero.
He was an athletic man, with an air of Bradley Cooper but with more tanned skin, green eyes and wavy, lighter hair, somewhat dirty blonde. His smile was more cheeky too. He was nearly three inches shorter than Jubal… and maybe ten years younger.
"All right, you're here," said Isobel impatiently toward Jubal, her fists clenched on either side of her body, powerfully demanding his attention again. "Totally against my wishes and aware of it. What did you want to tell me?"
He did not resist. His eyes fixed on Isobel immediately and flashed with fury, but also with pain and that held her back a little. It made her notice that Jubal was holding his left arm gingerly, and remember that he of course should still be injured. Moreover, he seemed very tired.
"Sorry," she sighed, controlling her own anger as best she could.
Isobel's expression was tinged with dismay. Jubal didn't know why, but he thought he knew what she was thinking: Why did you come all this way? You're not even fully recovered, you should be in a hospital. He couldn't say she would be wrong.
Jubal's frown somehow allowed Isobel to guess what was going through his mind: How could you even think of trying to do this on your own? It's enormously reckless.
As they faced each other without saying anything, Darío looked at the two of them alternately. He sighed. "I'll go get something to drink," he offered, heading for the door. "Jubal, a beer?"
"Eh? Any soft drink, please," Jubal replied.
"Bring me whatever you like. Thank you," said Isobel plainly.
Neither looked away from the other as Darío walked away shaking his head.
Isobel inwardly thanked him for the delicacy of giving them privacy to discuss.
The staring battle continued for a few more seconds. Then Jubal saw, adorning Isobel's neck, the peacock pendant he and the team had given her. The possible emotional implications caused him to lose his concentration.
She did not squander the tactical advantage. "Why did you come?" repeated Isobel her question.
He clenched his jaws. In two sharp strides, he went to the windows and closed the curtains. Not that they would stop a sniper's bullet, but at least the room was no longer a bloody shooting gallery. He covered the window completely before turning to face her, who had been watching his movements with puzzled concern.
"Because I think I know who ordered the killing of Vargas' wife and their little kid," he finally answered.
The surprise on Isobel's face soon turned to skepticism. "Jubal, Darío and I have been investigating for several days and we are no closer to figure it out than when we started. How can you know just like that?"
"Because behind the death of Félix Serrano was the Juárez cartel. 'El Patrón' himself."
·~·~·
It took several seconds for Isobel to assimilate that information.
"El Patron?" she repeated. A bewilderment tinged with uneasiness flooded her face. "H-how could you find that out?" she asked almost breathlessly.
"I squeezed Miguel Rojas for it," he replied simply.
"Oh." Her eyes narrowed slightly in understanding. "It's true. We never knew what his motive was..." She noticed herself filling with intense admiration towards him. "That, in fact, has been very clever of you."
Jubal had trouble not feeling stupidly pleased with how Isobel was looking at him at that moment. "Apparently El Patrón had a long-standing score to settle with Vargas," he added. "Something ugly and personal. And he found the way to make someone inside, Miguel Rojas, to do it for him."
Isobel pondered that for several seconds. "It can't be," she concluded. "If the Juárez cartel would have been the author and for such a reason, they would have made a very public demonstration."
"More public than hanging bodies from a bridge?"
"Yes, they would have made sure that it was public knowledge that it was them. And that's not the case. Nobody knows who did it. Besides, Juárez's trademark is brutal decapitations."
Jubal hesitated. What if he was wrong in his conclusions? He shook his head. "Maybe yes and maybe no. Isobel…" Jubal moved closer. He was going to grab her above her elbows, but in the end, he didn't. "...you're getting into the middle of a war between two of the bloodiest mafias in Mexico. Please, leave it, come back with me."
Isobel met his eyes. The terrifying images from her nightmares of Jubal dead in a pool of blood, the wrenching pain of losing him, superimposed on the real world like a projection. She could not bear the thought of the gleam she saw in those eyes of his extinguishing forever. It absolutely galvanized her resolve.
She took a step back. Jubal didn't even want to identify why it hurt so much that she did that.
"No. I can't," she firmly refused. "I'm sorry."
"Why?" asked Jubal, impatiently.
I can't tell you. And I can't even tell you that I can't tell you...
"I have to do something to change the situation. I cannot leave this threat hanging over us forever," she said vaguely.
Jubal became desperate. "This plan is foolish, Isobel. If Juárez is behind this, even if you manage to accuse someone, you will only gain another dangerous enemy. You can't trust what Vargas is going to do. We'll think of something else. Let's go back to New York."
Isobel shook her head. "You go back. You should be recovering. Go back there. Tomorrow, Jubal."
"No way," he refused, stubbornly. "I won't leave if you don't come with me. None of us is here in an official capacity. You can't give me orders."
Damn it. He's right. Out there, she had no authority over him. Isobel lowered her eyes, overwhelmed.
"I could ask you to do it…" she murmured.
The air abruptly left Jubal's lungs through his half-open mouth. He had no answer for that. If Isobel asked that of him, it would be because she wasn't going to come back with him voluntarily under any circumstances. And then, what could he do? Knock her unconscious and try to cross the border with her stuffed in the trunk?
Sitting down at the foot of one of the two beds, Jubal lowered his head in defeat.
"Please," he said in a hoarse whisper. Do not do this to me. "I can't leave you here." She didn't answer, inflexible. The pressure was about to break him. "Let me stay to help," to protect you, "at least…"
He raised his face. The pleading in his eyes was impossible to refuse. Isobel wished she could take his face in her hands, relieve the tension he seemed to be suffering with her tenderness. She wished it with all her might, but she should not do it. She was convinced that it was not a role she had a right to play with him. It was painful not to do so, though.
There was a soft knock at the door. It took several seconds for Isobel to manage to look away from the intensity of those hazel eyes to go open the door.
She cautiously checked through the peephole. It was Darío, with the drinks. He handed them each a can.
Jubal looked at his as if he didn't know what to do with it. Isobel drank, watching him carefully.
"[Well...]" Darío began at the thick silence, opening his drink and taking a sip. "[What now?]"
"[We keep going]," Isobel declared firmly.
"What about him? Is he staying?" Darío asked in English, perhaps out of deference.
Jubal looked expectantly at Isobel, but added nothing more. The die was cast. He almost drowned in her black eyes. He didn't know it, but actually, Isobel had already made up her mind.
"He stays."
~.~.~.~