Free Papal Justice by CG Cooper Page B

priest’s whereabouts. A surveillance team was set up and for the better part of the morning nothing happened. Then, just after the lookout unit had switched over after lunch, a taxi arrived and the priest got into it.
    “I called in the extra men who were still on the road from earlier.”
    “The ones running the errand for our guests?” El Moreno asked.
    “Yes.”
    “So you had how many men?”
    “Twenty, Jefe.”
    “Tell me what happened next.”
    Ricardo nodded, taking a hesitant breath before beginning again.
    “If the driver or the priest knew that we were following the taxi, they did not show it. They made no stops until they arrived at their destination.”
    “Where was it?”
    “In the foothills near Nueva Jerusalen.”
    El Moreno nodded. “Then?”
    “The priest got out of the taxi and went inside the compound.”
    “What did you do?”
    “I radioed the others and ordered them to go in like we always do.”
    “You expected trouble?”
    Ricardo looked up, panic making his heart race. El Moreno’s orders had been clear, “Bring the priest in alive.”
    His words came out in a tumble. “I cannot explain it, Jefe. I had a feeling, like someone was watching, waiting even.”
    El Moreno frowned.
    “I understand. What happened next?”
    “They started firing at us from the second story. I do not know how we lost so many so quickly, but two got to the front door with grenades. The explosion happened, but nothing slowed. We tried to use the RPG, but that man was killed as well. Everything was chaos. We took cover and tried to return fire. I couldn’t see it, but I knew they were picking us off one by one.”
    El Moreno shifted in his chair, and then leaned closer. Ricardo avoided his gaze.
    “I can see by the look on your face that this is not the end of your story.” El Moreno still wasn’t shouting. In fact, he seemed calmer than minutes before.
    Ricardo shook his head, still trying to come to grips with what he’d seen.
    “The firing changed. Whoever was in the house had sent men around the back to attack our flank. I had men posted there, but they must have been killed. I never saw the enemy until the monks appeared on my left, calmly shooting the rest of our men.”
    “Did you say monks?”
    “I…yes, Jefe. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. There they were, four men in brown robes, firing machine guns moving closer to my position.”
    “So what did you do?”
    Ricardo’s head snapped up and he looked straight in his boss’s eyes. If he was going to admit his failure, he was going to do it like a man.
    “I ran, Jefe. I am ashamed to say it, but I ran.”
    “And they didn’t shoot you.”
    It wasn’t a question, just an honest observation, like El Moreno had already figured it all out.
    “No, Jefe. They did not shoot me.”
    El Moreno nodded and was silent for a spell. Ricardo waited, ready to accept his fate. Finally, the cartel leader spoke.
    “It seems there is more to this priest than we guessed. Come, Ricardo, I think it’s time to have a word with our guests. There must be something they are not telling us.”
     
    +++
     
    El Moreno didn’t bother calling before they arrived. He didn’t want the Spaniards to concoct a story before he showed up. It would be better to see their candid reactions to his questions. He knew he’d been lied to by his foreign guests, but he didn’t know how deep the deception went.
    He wouldn’t fault Ricardo. The man was a loyal soldier, a captain who would’ve taken a knife to his own throat if El Moreno had asked. That would be a waste. In the coming months, the Guerrero Cartel would need every good man it could find. Like any good general, the dark-skinned maestro knew that Ricardo wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Word would trickle through the ranks describing El Moreno’s benevolence. Others might see it as a weakness, but El Moreno had learned that men like Ricardo Lozano would rather brave a hail of bullets