Page 40 of Burdens
After spending some time researching and vetting other cartels, I’d made contact with Daniela, who ran the arms operation for the Aguilar cartel and we’d brokered an exclusivity deal where they’d supply us with weapons and we would let them use our ports for distribution.
It was late at night and I’d been waiting for their first shipment when a black motorcycle pulled up a few feet away. The rider had barely parked and unsaddled his seat, when I branded my gun out and shot him, grazing the outside of his thigh.
I’d adoptedshooting first and asking questions laterthe moment I stepped into Ines’s skin, but never to kill because they might hold crucial information that I could use.
With one hand holding his injured thigh, he’d held the other one up in surrender.
The intruder yelled something, but I couldn’t hear him because of his helmet. He moved to remove it and I shot the gravel at his feet. He jumped back and dropped his helmet to the ground, holding both of his hands up. “I come in peace,” he grunted out.
I squinted, trying to make out his features, but because of the docks’ low visibility, all I could make out at a distance was that he had mid-length dark hair because it was blowing in the wind and he wore a silver band on the ring finger of his left hand.
In my line of work, I’d become hyper aware of people’s body language and I could tell even from afar that he wasn’t lying,but it didn’t matter. He was overstepping on private territory and I had an important package coming.
Whoever this was needed to leave, so with my gun still on him, I shouted, “Leave. This is private property.”
Instead of doing as told, he straightened himself up, wincing and cursing in Spanish. Then, he said, “I have a proposition for you, Amalia.”
My eyes widened and my finger moved back to the trigger. He didn’t look like someone from the Agency and there was absolutely no way I’d made a mistake and blown my cover.
“You have me mistaken for someone else and I won’t repeat myself. Leave or I’ll shoot. And this time, it’ll be at one of your vital organs.”
With his hands still up, he took a step toward me. “I know who you are, Amalia, and you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He took a few more steps. “My name is Nassim Taleb-Aguilar, and my father was Reda Taleb.”
My ears perked up at the name because I’d recently overheard a heated argument between Barrera and Hamza, where he’d threatened his right-hand man would suffer the same fate Reda had if he went against orders another time.
When I didn’t say anything right away, he took another step, closing the distance, my gun pressed against his sternum. “You can trust me.”
I knew I probably shouldn’t trust this stranger, but the sincerity shining in his eyes told me I should give him a chance.
And I had.
That night alone, I’d learned more about the cartel than what I’d gathered during the first year and a half I’d spent alongside Barrera. We’d only met twice again in person after that during my visits to Bemes since he lived in Cartagena and didn’t want to be found out. It took some convincing on his part, but I’d eventually agreed to help him with his plan.
We’d had a few obstacles since we started working together, but the one thing he’d never wavered on was his word.
I groaned. “Fine,” I finally agreed, deciding to let it go and trust him once again. The pilot’s voice came on the intercom, letting us know that we were ready for takeoff. “I have to go,” I said before hanging up on him and tucking the phone back into its hidden compartment.
I was fucked.
Not only would leaving be extremely difficult to do, but, to my dismay, I now had another person to account for. The other option would be to leave Noah behind, but I knew that wasn’t a possibility, no matter how much I’d like to.
I had no idea yet how I would escape without bringing attention to myself, but I knew I had to figure out a plan and quickly.
I heard the hum of the plane as it slowly taxied onto the runway and exited the bathroom. On my way back to my seat, I stopped by the small refrigerator in the corner to grab two water bottles and whatever snack options were available.
The refrigerator would normally be more packed since a flight attendant was usually part of the crew when I traveled with Barrera or Hamza, but whenever I was alone, I asked for her not to be here because the one they always hired was too chatty for my taste and her incessant voice grated on my nerves.
The stranger I’d taken prisoner didn’t look up when I approached, still in the same position I’d left him in, like he’d barely noticed I’d been gone this whole time. I sat down, shoved my bag back under the seat, and fastened my seat belt.
I placed the water and the two Merendina on the glossy wood table separating us, hoping the small chocolate cake hadn’t expired, but his gaze was set far away, his nail still grated over the leather.
“Your seat belt,” I said, hoping to get his attention, but he still didn’t look my way.
The plane came to a slow stop at the start of the runway, and the pilot called “ready for departure” over the radio. The engine wired louder and the man in front of me still hadn’t moved.
Frowning, I repeated myself, this time much louder, “Your seat belt.”
His finger stopped its movement as he finally snapped out of whatever world he’d gotten lost in. He looked over at me, the same lost look still drowning his brown eyes.
