Comeuppance: Epilogue

The girls had wandered off a few minutes earlier, and Carl had wandered over. "What about Cilla? Did you have her in class?"

He chuckled. "For pottery, pen and ink, oil painting, and sculpture is all! Cilla is a creative spirit with the best sense of humor and the sweetest personality I think I've ever seen! I missed her so bad after she graduated I got depressed... and I wasn't the only one on staff who did. We even teased about forming a 'missing Lucilla support group.'

"Not taking anything away from Chita, mind you. In fact, she was a better student and more popular when it came to the voting, but she was a little more reserved and achievement oriented, while Cilla was just a bundle of joy to be around!"

Jack poked Carl. "While he's all enthused about his favorite student, you might want to ask him how much he'd charge you for an engagement ring. Seems like you two are moving pretty quickly."

"Bottle-nosed porpoises!" Wayne exclaimed, "She loves them, and I have a great design I worked up! Yeah, I'd be honored and I'll cut you a great deal. I'll always love that girl!"

****

Sunday morning Jack got up, dressed, and made his way to town. He was a lapsed Episcopalian, aka 'Gringo Catholic,' but today he went to early mass at St. Mary's. It had been awhile since he'd been in a Catholic church, and he wanted to refresh his memory. After all, if this thing with Chita went the distance, he'd be expected to become one, or at least agree to raise his children as Catholics.

There weren't that many differences in the Catholic and Episcopalian services, which given the derivation of the Anglican church, wasn't surprising. He felt comfortable, but didn't appreciate the priest making a big deal about only practicing Catholics who had recently gone to confession being allowed to take mass. Nonetheless, he knelt while the qualified parishioners lined up to engage in the holy sacrament.

If it ever came to it, he and his prospective fiancé were going to have a deep conversation about the Christian religion and the historical and current beliefs of a certain denomination. But for now, it felt good to worship with others for a change.

As he was visiting with friends on the sidewalk after services, he caught a brief glimpse of someone that might be Eva Garcia in a car turning into the parking lot. He had just said his goodbyes, so he made his way across the street to his pickup and drove away.

Stopping at Garcia's Meat Market, he picked up a couple of nice custom-cut porterhouse steaks, a sack of sweet yellow onions, two Idaho baking potatoes, a package of Spring Mix salad, a loaf of ciabatta bread, and fresh green pinto beans. They had nothing planned for the day until his six pm flight, so he planned to grill steaks and enjoy a hearty meal before flying off to die, or worse.

Carl was drinking coffee and mad that he didn't wake him for church. When Jack said he went to the Catholic church, Carl looked surprised and asked if he saw the Garcia's there. He said he hadn't, and started stringing the beans. "So, when do you leave for Managua? I didn't think you'd want to cook before you left."

"Not until six; this might be my last meal, so I'm going out in style! Check these porterhouse steaks; if you help, I'll cook you one."

"Oh, hell yeah I'll help! Those must be custom: they're a good inch and a half thick!"

With immaculate timing based on good planning, the various foods were ready at the same time, and the men took their seats at straight-up noon. Thirty minutes later, they were pushed back from the table groaning about how full they were and the amount of steak left on their plates, when Jack's phone rang.

"Hello." "Mamá says she saw you leaving St. Mary's - is that right? What were you doing there? Why didn't you wait and talk to us?"

"Whoa - slow down!" Jack interjected. "Yes, I went to early mass. It had been a long time and I wanted to reacquaint myself with the Catholic ways. I didn't stop and talk because I didn't see y'all, and I wanted to go to your meat market and get some steaks for an early lunch."

"Oh, okay... but why did you want to reacquaint yourself with the Catholic church? And have you already cooked? We're going to the restaurant on the river, and you're welcome to join us!"

"We just finished our meal, and please tell your dad those were the best porterhouse steaks we've ever eaten! As to why I went to the Catholic church, I already answered that: it had been a long time."

"Don't think you're getting off with that vague answer - I think it has to do with me and you, and I want to talk about it! We'll be over after we eat."

"Don't bother, Beautiful. I'm off on a business trip this afternoon, and I have to leave for the airport soon. I'll be back Tuesday, though. How about I take you out to eat at six and then we can talk afterward."

"Business trip? I didn't know about that. Where are you going?" she rushed out in one breath.

"Cattle buying down in Central America. They have some nice registered Zebu's for sale, and I want to buy a bull and maybe some heifers. Get a little more ear on the cattle, which helps them sell nowadays, with everyone wanting lean beef."

"Chita! We're waiting on you!" he heard in the background. "Okay, Papá; I'll be right there."

"And you - yes, I will take you up on your date offer Tuesday, but I want to talk more about this trip after lunch! I'll call your cell."

"Chita, you're sounding like the spoiled princess you said you'd outgrown. Eat lunch with your family, and I'll see you Tuesday. It's not likely that I'll have cell service down there, and I've got several business calls to make this afternoon, so we won't talk again until I return. Don't worry; relax and enjoy yourself."

****

With the hour layover in Houston, he arrived at the Sandino Airport at 11:15 and at his hotel just after midnight. He looked into the bar before making his way to the front desk of the old but beautiful hotel, and sleep was easy to find on the comfortable mattress in his small but luxurious suite.

At eight in the morning, Jack walked down the street to a café recommended for its freshly roasted Nicaraguan coffee and 'Americano' breakfast. Cell service was excellent, and he used his earpiece to catch up on things with Alfred while he lingered over his meal and several cups of coffee.

He wandered the street, idly looking into the stores with curiosity but little interest, until he found a store featuring locally made traditional dresses with colorful embroidery: "artisanal" they were called, and after examining one, he understood why. He bought two, and then two more; he could envision the girls in each, with their graceful necks and shoulders uncovered, and their shapely legs exposed from well above the knee to the strappy sandals that matched.

Carl called as he left, to tell him the Zebu rancher would be calling soon. He had already shown Carl a live video of the pen of heifers he was selling, and of the bulls he was offering. Carl suggested bull number 4, a twenty-month old who had tested off the charts for sterility and had a classic Zebu build.

When the call came in, Jack was back in his room. He watched the videos on his phone, bought the heifers and bull #4, and arranged for them to be shipped to Corpus Christi next month. His ass covered, he steeled himself and went down to the bar.

It was 5 o'clock somewhere, but not in Managua, and Jack wasn't a day drinker anyway. He got a local beer at the bar, and then took a seat at a table for two along the back wall. The message hadn't said what time, so he was prepared to wait as long as it took... and hope he didn't get gunned down in his chair.

The bar was almost empty. There were two Latinos in business suits in a booth, and a woman who appeared to be American or European sitting on a bar stool studying her phone.

Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and used the camera to film the bar and its patrons, just in case, while appearing to be reading something. Only minutes later, the woman on the bar stool dismounted and started toward the restrooms, which were down the hallway behind him.

She was tall and strikingly beautiful, with highlighted brown hair, dressed in tailored black pants and an off-shoulder white blouse.

She paid no attention to him, but when she passed his table a pack of matches landed on it. She kept walking; he looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then unfolded the cover. "Down this hall in five" read the note inside.

The wait for his watch to get to five minutes took four hours, but he finished his beer, stood, and walked down the hallway toward the restrooms. As far as he could tell, no one paid any attention to him.

He passed the restrooms and continued toward the exit at the end of the hallway; just before he reached the door, a curtain opened and a voice whispered, "In here!"

The woman led him through a doorway into a small, dark room with a couch and two chairs around a small round table. She gestured toward the couch, locked the door, and turned to face him. He moved to one of the wooden chairs and stood behind it, waiting for her.

She smiled at his caution, took the other chair, and said, "For today's purposes, I'm Charlotte. I'm an American ex-pat in a Central American country who used to be one of Senator Slime's whores. I'm not the only one down here, but I'm the only one that matters right now.

"Let me talk, you listen, and then you can ask questions or make comments, if you wish. However, I'm not going to endanger myself or any of my fellow whores to satisfy your curiosity. We went to great lengths to find a safe home and get to it without being followed by the many enemies still out there, so your curiosity means little to me."

"Before you begin," Jack interrupted, "let's get a few things straight. I know who you are, I know where you live, and I know who's with you there, so don't try to bullshit me or threaten me. I also know someone who is close by that is a danger to all of you, but I won't tell you unless you're honest with me. So if we're clear on ground rules, go ahead with your presentation."

"Charlotte" was taken aback by his claims, but she had been told enough about him and his capabilities to know he was most likely being truthful. "Okay, Jack, let's start over. I'm going to stick with Charlotte, but I'll otherwise be as forthright as possible.

"Back when we were unwilling whores, six of us found a way to avoid getting drugged all the time, and a way to communicate without being recorded. We could only get together infrequently, but we used our rare opportunities to plan our escapes and find a place where they couldn't find us.

"You say you know who and where we are, which, by the way, terrifies me, so I won't waste time on that, or anything else you don't want to know. So what DO you want to know?"

"How did you escape? And I mean you, Charlotte."

"I was too frequently assigned to a monster who liked to hurt me and share me with his monstrous friends. We were in Cabo, waiting for his friends, when he made the mistake of leaving me access to a drawer of kitchen knives. He had brought a suitcase full of money for a drug buy, and had the key on him. He thought he had me so cowed I'd never fight back, much less harm him, and he was already stoned, so he wasn't afraid I might hurt him; he was wrong!

I used the knife to stab him in the spinal cord from behind so he couldn't move, gagged him with a kitchen towel, and then slowly disemboweled him while reminding him of all the cruel and disgusting things he and his friends had done to me. Before he died, I cut off his balls and tiny little cock, and then stuck the kitchen knife up his asshole. He died on the kitchen floor, screaming into the towel.

"I got dressed in comfortable clothes, carried the suitcase of money down to the docks, and offered a young fishing boat owner an obscene amount of Yankee dollars to take me across the Gulf to Mazatlán. He quickly agreed, and I flew from Mazatlán to Panama, then worked my way to what would become my home.

"I'm not the only one with such a story, or the only one who killed to get here."

"Don't look defensive, Charlotte; you had every right, and I applaud your initiative. Thanks for being honest, and now I need you to verify a few things and provide a few details. A friend of a friend of a friend tells me that a couple of members of your community endured a plane crash to get there. Is that true?"

Charlotte smiled. "I think the world believes they died in that plane crash. In reality, my friends had been abused, tortured, and mutilated by the worst of the most horrible. When one recently learned that her mutilation included being sterilized during a D and C after the miscarriage of her husband's child, they hatched a plan for revenge.

"After their attempt to return to their old lives didn't pan out and her gynecologist confirmed the damage could not be reversed, they implement their plan. They reached out to the man ultimately responsible for their enslavement and the wife's sterilization, and his new best friend, an inordinately wealthy royal pervert. They somehow convinced them they wanted to return to their old lives, and they fell for it. They were picked them up and flown to another country, from which they would fly to a land without extradition.

"The men and the pilot had abused and misused them in unspeakable ways over the past year, so they had no problem with drugging them just before they were to continue on to another country. The drug they used was slow acting, but once it kicked in, the men were unable to move, but could still feel everything.

"When they were settled on the plane, the wife who had been enslaved, abused, and sterilized by the man behind the whole 'Ring' scheme, began dancing for the men while her friend entertained the pilot in his cabin. She offered him a drink, told him she was looking forward to being with him after they landed, and sat on his lap.

"Her phone buzzed while she was sitting on the pilot's lap: she took the call, grew excited, and then warned the pilot to be ready to take off on command because the American authorities were closing in. He prepared everything for takeoff while the two women... shall we say, evened the score, with the two drugged men in the back of the plane, including appropriate mutilation of their genitals.

They then slowly eviscerated each man while reminding him of the sins he had committed. When the men were dead, they got off the plane with the trunk full of money, and shut the door. The money was dumped into a tool chest and wheeled it to a RV stashed nearby. They had previously purchased the RV online and had it delivered in return for cash payment at arrival.

They paid, the owner left, and then one called the pilot in a panic and told him to take off immediately or they would be arrested. He did, and the drugs from his drink kicked in near Jamaica. Splat!

"I won't go into the route the women took to get 'home' to us, but it was pure genius."

"And were they recently joined by another friend?"

"Yes, one of them has a love interest; the other is just glad to be free of the position in which she found herself."

"So they don't intend to return home, ever?"

"No. Their move is irrevocable, and the wealthy family of one of the victims is hunting for them anyway, so they have no choice."

"Shall I deliver the names I have directly to the lieutenant, or do you prefer to pretend he's not listening and talking to you through your earpiece?"

Charlotte smiled, said "Be my guest," and laid her earpiece on the table between them.

"Carlos Alvarez purchased a coffee plantation just down the road from you, LT. I think you know that name; if not, perhaps 'El cuchillo' will help Charlotte remember."

Charlotte turned white, and her eyes bugged out. "Oh, God, no!"

"Do you want to take care of him, and the piece of shit named Edward Arlington the Third that came with him, or do you want us to do it? We're already locked and loaded on five targets, not including those two."

The tinny voice replied, "No, I've got this one. South Africa, Ecuador, Venezuela, Bolivia, and Thailand?"

"Yes, and maybe in the UAE, if he doesn't back off."

"The others, no one will care. That one will cause a stink."

"Maybe the videos of him and his cousin drinking alcohol, doing coke, and fucking whores will convince him, but if he gets closer to his targets, he dies. Might anyway, to pay for past transgressions."

"I understand. Let me know if he does. Alfred knows the site to use.

"Anyone else on your shit list, Bossman?"

"There are several whom the Bureau is ignoring. They will make the list if they remain untouchable, but we'll turn up the heat and give them a few more months, just to give the DoJ a chance to do the right thing."

"Ha! Well, that will definitely earn you a place on the federal shit list, even if they can't prove it. I'll say this, though; after hearing some of the stories told after a few rounds, I might volunteer to go with you!"

"Along those lines, and FYI, even though she's officially dead, I'm divorcing my wife for abandonment. I have to do it to resolve my business problems, due to the extenuating circumstances of her death. It's not personal, and wouldn't have happened had she not disappeared and died.

"So take care of your wards, LT; I'll always love them, but I understand."

"Goodbye, Jack."

"Hasta luego, compadre, y todos vayan con Dios!"

Jack handed the piece back to Charlotte, who had tears in her eyes. "Now I understand."

"What?"

"Why they cry all the time. Take care of yourself - you are well loved."

****

And so ends this tale of Comeuppance. Well, not really; there were more that got theirs, of course. The deaths of five members of 'The Ring' across three continents, the decapitation of a Emirates royal by terrorists, and the 'sudden death syndrome' that struck three well known lobbyists in their beds, spurred authorities to detain six more 'persons of interest,' each of whom promptly confessed their sins and transgressions. Their comeuppance visited frequently during their years in federal prison.

Two unusual deaths were also reported in Costa Rica; a coffee baron and his lawyer, but their deaths were never tied back to the corruption in the USA. Their torture and mutilation was attributed to local gangs intent on robbery, but the perpetrators were never captured.

As to Jack, Carl, the Garcia girls, and the fate of the Armstrong domain, that's a whole other story.