Sprung Ch. 12

"Rafael said Flavia from one of the other houses would do it. We are going to leave a week from yesterday."

She was still stunned. "I...I don't believe it."

"Ana, they told me everything. Well, at least everything about your health. I knew you were sick, but I didn't know you were leaving."

Ana said, "We haven't set a date yet. They talked to me about a position in Austin. I was supposed to get serious about that in a couple of months, before the months prone to smog return."

I walked up to her and held both her hands, "Remember this morning when you asked me to come visit you? Instead of my visiting you, would you consider moving to Sydney? They are opening an office there. I'm going to be the human resource and benefits manager. If you would like to be the office manager, they said you could. This vacation is for you to see the city and area, and for me to hopefully convince you to agree. I think you could love it."

She replied, "I don't know. Are you sure you want your jailor around you all the time?"

"We've been over this before. You looked after me. You can say that you were doing it to ensure the house ran smoothly, and I know part of that is true, in the beginning. But we've been friends for close to a year. I'd love for you to live in Sydney. I'd love to have you, a great friend, in my life.

"Besides, do you know anyone in Austin?"

"No."

"There you go. You're coming with me." And she did.

Daniel called us the next morning and asked me if there was anything we absolutely had to do while we were in Sydney. I told him five things: a tour of the harbor including the bridge and opera house, an event at the opera house, a tour of the Art Gallery Of NSW, a day trip to the Blue Mountains and a visit to one of Sydney's iconic beaches.

I suggested not to climb the Harbor Bridge right now, because I was worried about Ana's breathing during the climb. Once I nursed Ana into better health, then we could reschedule, which had Ana laughing; something that was good to see.

I asked Ana if I could take any of my clothes with me. Some dresses were too risqué, but there were many, many that were beautiful. She said I could take anything that was in my room. I used Ana's phone to text Dave and let him know that I would be returning to Sydney within a week.

His office wasn't in the CBD, but I needed him to know I was there on the off chance that we bumped into each other. Also, when I saw my children, I wanted time with them, which wouldn't really be possible while I was with the Orozcos. We made arrangements to talk before I would visit the kids.

I couldn't wait.

******

Perspective change to Dave

It was over. Sarah's time in purgatory had ended, and I hoped I finally had her out of my heart. I needed her out to ensure I had all the room that Suzanne needed. I knew that she meant it when she told me that she didn't care if I yelled at her, beat her, fucked her or killed her, but to make sure that when I was done that it was over.

I had tormented myself over my decision to do what I did to Sarah for the entire time she's been gone. Not only did she fuck up, but so did I. I know I shouldn't have done what I did, but I cannot undo it, just like she cannot unfuck up our marriage.

I did have to call in every favor owed to me, and it'll be years paying off one or two. Eventually my manager got wind of what I did, which earned me an informal reprimand. A formal write up would have gotten me fired, maybe even imprisoned, so I feared that I would be passed over for promotion for a few more cycles.

What exactly did I do? I kept myself out of jail and her alive, because I thought many, many nights of different ways to kill her and Michael, and in each scenario, I ended up in jail and my kids would be without their mother and father.

It was fortuitous when I found out about their Mexican tryst. There are very few places in Mexico I would go and feel safe. Actually, Puerto Vallarta is one of them. Unfortunately for them, it's easily accessible and if the crime lords know where you are staying, then being reached is fairly easy.

The key favor I used was from a former rear-admiral in the US Navy. When he was close to retirement, he moved from military intelligence to the CIA. His son was a S.E.A.L., whose team found themselves and some Aussie SAS in a bad spot in Afghanistan many years ago. I was in AUSTINT at the time and was the one that had the intel and extraction plan to get them out. It wasn't anything extraordinary, and I had done something similar several times before and after. It was my job.

The father felt a debt to me, and I told him thank you but to forget about it. When I actually needed the favor, I basically gave all of the favors owed to me over the years to him. He pieced together enough new intel to run a successful op in temporarily reducing the flow of fentanyl from Asia into Mexico which was destined for the US. What he gave me was the name and details on how they were using a high-ranking informant in a particularly ruthless Mexican drug cartel. Basically, that mole was owned by the CIA, and as a thanks for their successful op, the former rear-admiral gave that mole to me.

He also gave me the name of the leader of the Mexican cartel that would be 1) in best position to use the mole and 2) wouldn't blow up the whole damn country in their quest for domination. After a few conversations, he steered me towards El Señor.

The word in the intelligence community was that he was the most stable of all the bosses in Mexico. He was very shrewd and hard to pin anything on. Rumor was that he had people everywhere; in other cartels; in each of the intelligence communities; he had paid hackers in Romania, Russia and Brazil to infiltrate pretty much everyone and everything. He never started wars like the other bosses. His strikes were always surgical. He would apply the maximum pressure at the weakest point, rather than sending 100 guys with guns to blow everything hell.

You almost had to admire the man. Almost. Even though very much alive, he had become something of a legend. Not many people outside the intelligence services knew his real identity. Most people that knew him simply thought he was a businessman. His oldest son, with gobs of protection, had become the more public face of the organization while he sat back and did the strategy. If his son was the COO, he was definitely the CEO and chairman of the board.

To get a message to his father was a relatively simple thing. I had someone from the CIA give my card to his son, with "I have a mole for you," written on the back. Not quite as dramatic as Harrison Ford in Clear and Present Danger, but just as effective. I counted on his curiosity. As connected as he was, I would have been surprised if he worked with anyone from Australia.

It took four days, but eventually my phone rang. "Hello."

"Mr. Mason, I received your card. If your mole is validated and useful, what would you want in return?"

I explained my situation to him. I told him of their hideaway house in Puerto Vallarta. I informed him of their travel plans and activities. I gave him everything on a silver platter. I was ready to give him the information on the informant, and I told him what I wanted him to do to Sarah and Michael. Before we went any further, he told me, "No."

"What? No?"

"I won't do it Mr. Mason. You probably think I'm a stone-cold murderer, and I can be when necessary. However, you don't want her to die. Let me tell you why."

He told me of his own wife from many years ago; before the birth of his second son, when his first son was still a small child. He told me how a low-level employee of his had been in their hometown and discovered his wife was having an affair with an old friend of theirs. Everyone in his organization found out. If he, El Señor, wanted to live, he didn't have much choice.

He had that same employee bring both of them to a little ravine just outside of town. Surrounded by many of his most trusted men, he beat his wife and her lover then slit their throats. After killing them, he thanked the low-level person for bringing the information to his attention and dragging the lovers to their current location. He then asked him how many people he told.

A look of terror came over his employee's face, because he knew what was coming. He replied, 'a couple', but El Señor knew it had been more. At first, the employee thought it was funny that the boss's wife was getting fucked by another man. Big mistake. El Señor explained to him and his crew how their entire livelihood was based on good, quick and trusted information. Information that sensitive and potentially embarrassing, had to be handled with the utmost care. He made sure that his highest-ranking men understood not only the personal lesson, but the business lesson as well. Then he shot the low-level employee with his own gun and put the knife he used on his wife and lover in the dead man's hands.

The legend of El Señor began to grow that day. What he told me on the phone was that the look in his wife's eyes before he killed her still haunted him. So he would not kill Sarah for me, and that it was for my benefit, not hers. If he had her killed, I would have to live with that pain the rest of my life, the way he has.

He did make me an offer. He said if she liked having sex with men that weren't her husband, he could help me with that. He, or his son, had many different whorehouses throughout the country and he would put her, and her lover, to work there until I asked for them to be released. He ensured me that no serious harm would come to them. That was how we struck our bargain.

I gave him the information about the mole in one of the more violent drug cartels in northern Mexico. He was pleased with the info because, this cartel was very violent often simply for the sake of violence. In hindsight, I'm even more impressed with the Old Man.

I later discovered that he already had his own mole in that organization, but now that he had two, he could use one to rat out the other so that his own man became even more trusted to the head of the cartel, which basically meant that El Señor got the most accurate information about all the cartel's activities.

The cartel began losing valuable shipments. Payments to law enforcement didn't occur on time. Key people either abandoned the cartel or died mysteriously. Before long, the cartel's men were turning on each other. Nobody knew who they could or couldn't trust. This became noticed in other cartels. El Señor planted a rumor that he had men everywhere, in every organization.

The mistrust ran so deep that the cartel leader began killing off his own men for not following orders. The whole organization fell into chaos, and El Señor organization quietly eased in, killed that cartel leader, and took over, creating stability in that part of the country.

The whole episode scared the shit out of the rank and file of several other cartels. The name El Señor was being whispered around like siblings talking about monsters under the bed, parents teasing their children about el Chupacabra, or for those of you that remember the movie The Usual Suspects - Keyser Söze. Eventually some other cartels fell apart and El Señor quietly moved in.

The US and Mexican government should have given me a medal for helping to create such peace and stability in such a large area of Mexico. Instead, my manager read me the Riot act. I was certain that any chance of short-term promotions flew out the window, while my wife flew off to Mexico to become a real whore; just fucking wonderful.

At work, I laboured harder than I ever had before to ensure my survival. I went out of my way to try to pay off some of those favors that I now owed. One benefit of that was the new relationships that I developed domestically and internationally. I took it upon myself to do more in my department and externally as well. While my manager continued to berate me, my colleagues took note and respected me more. About six months after Sarah left, my divisional manager called me into his office.

"Oh, shit," I thought. Here it comes. I just knew my manager would be sitting there with a grin on his face waiting to fire me. But that didn't happen. It was only the two of us in his office, when he closed the door.

"Dave, I'll get right to the point. I've heard about what happened in Mexico, but that information has stopped with me. It may not have been the wisest thing to do, but the calm that has come over that section of Mexico that El Señor took over has been noticed by everyone in the intelligence community. Between that new calm and the reduction in fentanyl trafficking, our American friends actually reached out to say thanks.

"We've also noticed the initiative you've taken on the last several months. Our superiors wanted to find a way to better coordinate some of our Asian intel with intel to which the American's have access. It looks like you've already kicked that off, and we think you are the right man to lead that effort. Expect that to get kicked off within the month. Basically, we'll be formalizing some of what you are already doing and give you a few junior staff to help. It's not 'officially' a promotion, but it's a grade increase in pay and it will sure 'look' like a promotion. If things go like we hope, the official promotion will come in 12-18 months. Congratulations."

I was stunned. Up until that point, I was wondering if I would ever see anything good happen at work. My personal life was in the shitter, but at least professionally this episode hasn't cost me.

As for Sarah, when her 'conference' was supposed to be over, we didn't hear from her or Michael, of course. As I requested, her employer, Michael's wife and I received emails from them stating Goodbye. They were running away together. That was my clue that they had been taken and it was what I gave my attorney to help me get a divorce. The abandonment filing took two years and the actual divorce another six months.

The kids were crushed. How could their mom abandon them like that? It tore them up for months, and then they became angry, really angry. Running off without a word? How could she? They hated her for what she did to us...almost as much as I did.

In the meantime, unbeknownst to me, Julie was working on setting me up with Suzanne; the same Suzanne that is Julie's cousin and worked in Sarah's office. I was resistant at first, but eventually she wore me down. Julie would do things with us, and the kids were very affronted by that. So they put up all of their stop signs towards a young and beautiful Julie.

However, when Julie asked if Suzanne (a slightly older and just as beautiful woman as Julie) could come and bring her daughter, Jessica, because they only had Julie in their life, my kids soft hearts couldn't say 'No.' So Julie began easing Suzanne and her daughter into our lives, and like a puppy wedging itself between a husband and wife on the couch, Julie wedged Suzanne right into our lives.

While Julie played the role of host and organizer, Suzanne often played the role of cook and homemaker; seeing after the food and fussing after the kids. Over time, Jenny and Steven warmed up to her, and I had to admit, I did too.

If Julie had pushed herself on me, the kids might have resented that, but for some reason her inserting Suzanne into our lives didn't seem to bother them at all. On those rare occasions when Rachel's family was with all of us, including Julie and Suzanne, Rachel didn't seem to mind either. One night, I saw the three women conspiring about something, which likely was me since they got quiet when I walked into the room.

I must admit I enjoyed Suzanne's company, and she was definitely easy on the eyes. Before the summer was over, a few outings with everyone to the beach confirmed that.

As the end of summer approached, and our time as an extended family would become more limited, I asked the kids if they would mind if Suzanne and I went on a date. I thought they would be shocked and upset, but they seemed fine with it.

Things with me and Suzanne were going really well, until I asked her to marry me. Then she said, 'No.' She said that Sarah was still an open wound and that she would love to marry me but wouldn't until I closed that chapter of my life.

I begged and pleaded for weeks, but she was steadfast in her refusal. Fate stepped in when El Señor called me out of the blue one day to tell me about Michael, now Michelle's, cancer. He said that he wouldn't get treatment in Mexico and unless he returned home, he would eventually die.

I agreed that Michael had served his penance and could return. So, Michael woke up one morning in the back of a cab at the Guadalajara airport barefoot and in his maid-dress with his passport and five thousand US dollars and NOTHING else. He found the first flight he could afford and came home.

That left Sarah. Given my situation with Suzanne, I needed to talk to my ex-wife, so I told El Señor I planned to come and see Sarah and would decide then what to do with her. I kind of had an idea of what I wanted to do to try and get her out of my heart; one last loving goodbye to the woman I had loved for so long.

I made arrangements for the travel and was provided a driver to the house where she worked. It was so much nicer than I had anticipated, almost unbelievably so. The guards were expecting me, and Ana met me at the front door and quietly escorted me into her office. We talked about Sarah and how she was doing. She showed me several pictures of her, which she shows new clients and she was as breathtaking as ever. Was her chest larger? Ana told me it was. El Señor saw how beautiful she was and had slight enhancements performed on her breasts, so they didn't sag quite as much. Whatever she had been doing here had been working, because she looked gorgeous, like she always did to me..

When I brokered the deal three years ago, I half expected her to become a run-down crack whore working in a shitty whorehouse and, at that time, relished the prospect of that. Seeing the pictures of my ex-wife and having that thought go through my head shamed me. I knew then I would free her. I think I knew as soon as I talked to El Señor. I felt guilty as hell for what I had done. I wanted to see her, but I didn't know if I could talk to her. I wondered if I held her one more time, as I planned, if I could get her out of my system. I had to, otherwise I couldn't have Suzanne.

Ana helped me plan a night of massage and passion. I asked for the blindfold because I didn't want her to know it was me and because I was afraid if she gave me puppy-dog eyes, I would cave. I knew what I needed to do, and this was the only way I knew how.

When she entered the room, my heart leapt. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. As I peeled off her clothes and saw her naked, it reminded me of her ten years ago. She looked amazing.

The massage worked its magic, and I knew all the tricks to get her worked up. After her second orgasm I made love with her as we spooned. We had always loved this. Her intensity was amazing. She came after me with a passion I had rarely seen. We came together for what would be our last time.

As I got out of the bed, she tried to remove her mask. I couldn't let her see me, so I told her "No." She was begging me to stay but I couldn't. I had to leave now. I could look at this as our last time and still love her but let her go, finally. If I stayed, I would try to forgive her and would never let her go, and that would eventually kill me.

To stick with the Italian 'disguise', I told her 'Goodbye my love' in Italian (one of the few phrases I had practiced for the occasion) and left the room. Sadness. I thought it would consume me. There should have been an Adele song playing as I closed the door and went down the stairs to Ana's office.