King of All I Survey
Chapter 41: Sending a Message to Xibalba

Chapter 41: Sending a Message to Xibalba

Overnight, every available drone was put into operation delivering the message that Maribel wanted to send to Rafael, both figuratively and literally. She smiled as she thought of how he would react as the reports started reaching him. Then frowned again as she remembered the photos of his victims, those for whom photos existed, and the long list of their names. She knew that the drugs he both produced and trafficked killed and would continue to kill many, many more. She thought again about just killing him outright. He would be quickly replaced, and the drugs would continue to flow, would continue to destroy lives and end lives. She realized that no matter how important men like Rafael thought they were, they were commodities, easily replaced. They were of no consequence to anyone but themselves.

She went about her normal activities during the day, checking in on the Sacapulas operation. No issues there, the guards were still on high alert. They were now starting to process Mayan Black Salt from the local mine shared by several local families. They would bring in large blocks of it, the processor would crush it down to regular shaker-sized grains, miraculously yielding more finished product by weight and volume than each miner brought in.

Instead of being largely reserved for local use, the excess Black Mayan Salt would allow more to be sold at markets, bringing higher income to the families holding the rights to the mine by long-standing tradition. Food First, as always, reserved a portion. Instead of giving it to the poor, however, they would export the unique salt infused with volcanic minerals to international markets where it would command a high premium. The profits of these sales would be funneled back into local aid programs in Guatemala.

She met with Luis around mid-day and he briefed her on the results of their overnight operation. It was carried off without a hitch, their drones had visited hundreds of key players in Rafael’s operation in Guatemala and left a neat, typed message where they would find it when they woke in the morning, or if they were up during the night, it would seem to appear right in front of them when they turned away for a second. The delivery was designed to make them feel watched, as if their private space had been invaded. She wanted them to feel vulnerable. According to Luis, 450 of the planned 450 messages had been delivered successfully overnight. Unknown to Maribel, even those recipients who had been in closed rooms had received messages with the LITV booth providing access and escape for the drones, when necessary.

The message played on a theme from Mayan legends of old. They said, "Your crimes have been seen by the Mayan Hero Twins. Confess your crimes against your brothers to Hunaphu and beg for his mercy or be cast down with Chuchmaquic and all of Xibalba."

According to the plan, this message had been delivered to a number of those within local law enforcement agencies, government offices, the military, and senior gang members. Luis told her that the notes had unnerved them greatly, even many who had not received the notes had heard rumors that the old heroes had threatened the corrupt, equating them with the evil lords of Xibalba. Some of the gang members had gone to church and, under the secrecy of the Confessional, repented their sins and begged God’s forgiveness. In all, according to Luis, his agents knew of 17 gang members who had decided to quit the organization, three of whom had been killed, others went into hiding. Those in official positions were scrambling trying to find out who knew about their activities and what evidence they might have. None found any trace of who might have sent the notes. Rafael had received calls from dozens of highly placed people, alternating between frightened and pleading or angry and threatening.

In the late afternoon, Maribel dressed for the evening dinner. Instead of the precise business attire she had worn in her previous meeting, she decided to dress as if this were not a business meeting. She wore an elegant black dress, conservatively cut with loose sleeves reaching almost to her elbows, the hem reaching just above her ankles. She purposefully chose to wear tall stiletto heels that added nearly four inches to her five-foot five-inch height. Rafael stood only five feet six and their intelligence said his shoes added another inch. Many of his associates from Colombia and the United States towered above him. Maribel wanted to make him feel small both literally and figuratively this evening.

Luis drove her to the Gracia Cochina del Autor stopping the car in the street in front of the building to let her out, opening her door and offering his hand. He gave her a look that said be careful, as he closed her door and walked back around to the driver’s side. He got in and drove off to park the car and wait.

Maribel stood alone in front of the restaurant for a brief moment then took a deep breath and walked purposefully through the door. A host approached her immediately, "Miss Flores?" He inquired.

"Yes." She replied her eyes scanning the room.

"Mister Camal de Leon is already here. He has reserved a private room for your dinner, He said you would also have a companion?"

"No, I am on my own tonight." She replied, realizing that she really was on her own. If things should go badly, she would have only her wits to protect her. She suddenly became aware of the plain metal ring on her finger, finding its presence comforting, as if her grandmother could reach through it to guide and protect her.

"Very good, this way, if you please," The host said indicating the way. She walked with him to a door at the side of the main dining hall. He opened it and held it for her. She stepped inside. Rafael Camal de Leon was seated at the table, He rose at her entrance. He did not show her his charming smile. Instead, he had a look that reminded her of a feral animal, a dangerous animal.

He walked around the table and pulled her chair away from the table in a gentlemanly fashion, "Please, Miss Flores, have a seat. We have much to discuss."

Maribel sat and allowed Rafael to push her chair into the table. As he walked back to his own chair, a waiter, standing at the ready, picked up Maribel’s napkin and placed it on her lap, then did the same for Rafael. Rafael gestured to him. The waiter picked up a bottle from a small folding stand next to the table, although the bottle was not chilled, there was also an elegant ice bucket holding cylindrical ice cubes, with hollow centers. He held the bottle toward Maribel displaying the label. It was Caravedo Mosto Verde, a Peruvian pisco from one of the oldest producers in the country.

As the waiter displayed the label for Maribel’s approval, Rafael said, "I hope this meets with your approval. I apologize again for not offering a Peruvian vintage of pisco at our last encounter." His voice was smooth, and friendly, but his face did not lose its dangerous aspect as he spoke.

Maribel smiled and nodded at the waiter. "Yes, Caravedo is an excellent choice."

"Would you like ice?" The waiter asked, as he opened the bottle.

"Neat, please." Maribel replied.

Rafael raised an eyebrow, "The same for me," he told the waiter.

The waiter poured two fingers of the pisco into each tumbler. Rafael picked his up and downed it in one gulp, like a shot. The waiter glanced at him, then refilled his glass, to three fingers this time.

"You must excuse me," Rafael said, his intent gaze sharpening even further, "it has been a stressful day."

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