A Father’s Revenge
Pablo Perez summoned Ramón for a secret meeting. Ramón, Perez’s second in command, knew what his Patron, boss, wanted. Every month, Senor Perez wanted a detailed, updated status on his “special” project. Eighteen months earlier a rancher had killed his only son, Juan, in Texas. The rancher, Wayne Masters, came home one evening to find the fugitive in his home. He had brutally molested and nearly killed the rancher’s girlfriend, Conchita. Now, from his villa in Mexico, the crime leader planned revenge upon the man that took his son away from him.
Ramón took a seat in front of the massive desk and waited for Pablo Perez to enter the ornately decorated room. The walls were of white stucco that contrasted with the huge foot wide beams of oak that held up the ceiling. Behind the ornately hand carved desk were shelves that showcased Senor Perez’s collection of stolen Aztec Indian artifacts. Directly behind the drug cartel leader’s custom leather chair hung a hand painted portrait of his grandfather standing beside the infamous Mexican bandit, Poncho Villa. To his left, four French style glass doors were open to allow the ocean breeze enter the oversized office. The doors led out to Perez’s private pool. At one end, a rock waterfall fed the pool from a spring in the mountains that surrounded this palatial home. Coconut, lemon, lime and palm trees lined up to hide the twelve-foot security fence made of local limestone.
Ramón could see his boss swimming laps while he waited patiently. On his right stood the private bar that was stocked with only the finest liquors and wines from around the world. A bucket of ice and two gold trimmed cocktail glasses sat upon a silver-serving tray waiting for the invitation from his boss. One did not help himself in the presence of Pablo Perez. After thirty minutes of waiting, he watched as the short, over weight crime figure stepped out of the pool onto the blue and white ceramic tiled floor of the patio. A pool boy appeared suddenly and offered him a plush towel and a pair of slippers. After he dried himself he turned his back so the young man could fit a hand sewn silk robe on his pudgy frame.
He entered the office and walked directly to his chair. Before he could sit, a beautiful senorita entered the room to get the serving tray along with a bottle of Mexico’s finest tequila. She poured each a generous drink before retreating through a side door. “What do you have for me today Ramón?” “Here are the two files you asked for Mr. Perez. The first one has all the information we gathered on the rancher, Wayne Masters. The second one has details of his wife and child as you directed,” replied the under boss. “Very good. Lay them on the desk. I will look them over later but for now give me a short briefing.” “Si Señor.”
He had gathered information on all the Masters’ neighbors and friends. Through bribes, he had accumulated data on their bank accounts, habits and assets. He knew where they worked, their children’s names and where they went to school. Oil prices were down in Texas making jobs scarce. It was simple to find people willing to provide information when they had hungry children to feed and greedy bankers circling like hungry sharks waiting to foreclose on their homes. The handsomely paid informants were a varied group that consisted of telephone repairmen, phony salesmen and men looking for employment at the ranch.
After months of surveillance they knew Wayne Masters and his girlfriend's daily schedules and routines at the ranch.
“What about the boy?” Perez asked while glancing through the files.
“He has just started to walk, Mr. Perez. He seems healthy and behaves like any boy his age. He is never left alone for more than a minute or two. Either the woman is with the boy or one of the neighbor girls is there to watch him,” he answered.
“And the rancher?”
“Masters is harder to predict. The routine at the ranch varies from day to day but he does drive into the nearby town on Saturdays to get supplies.”
“Good. That’s very good.” Perez smiled.
The boss rose from his chair and walked over to the bar and picked out a vintage bottle of red wine from the Napa Valley of California. He filled two ornate wine glasses and walked over to his Capo and handed him one. “We will toast to the wealth of information you have provided me Ramón. Now you should be rewarded.” With a ring from a bell, the two eight foot oak entrance doors opened. The armed guards allowed two dark haired women to enter the room. Each wore kimonos that dropped from their shoulders the moment the doors closed revealing young tight bodies. One held her arms out to help Ramón out of his chair then unbuttoned his shirt. The other removed the belt from his trousers and pulled them down to the floor so he could step out of them. She then knelt before him to provide pleasure as the other senorita bare her breast for his enjoyment. The old man walked by the bare breasted woman and patted her behind as he went back to the pool.
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