Day 50 (The DMT Series Book 2) (3 page)

But the fact that they had just captured two persons who were officially recorded as deceased in the US, had piqued Alejandro Vasques’ interest. He had called up his boss, Manfred Marconi, and told him that he would be bringing in someone special later that evening.

Manfred Marconi wasn’t exactly your average kind of drug lord. He was a drug lord with style, a drug lord with flair and class. He had always stayed away from the heavier drugs; focused on marijuana, hashish and psychedelics. His market was Mexico - domestic. He didn’t care about smuggling to the US, and he didn’t meddle in the other cartels’ high-profit-margin business of heroin and cocaine. Marconi was a small-time operator. A small-time operator with extensive power. And he preferred to remain that way. He preferred to stay small and alive, rather than big and soon-to-be-dead.

When Marconi heard about the two ‘officially deceased’ Americans, he had made his first personal visit to his extremely profitable kidnap-foreigners-and-demand-outrageous-ransom business in two years. He had personally interrogated Cody and Dr Drecker in their cells. Interrogation was not an accurate description of their talks though. Torture was a more appropriate term. It had been a most rewarding experience. For Marconi. He had learnt about Cody’s special powers.

Powers he was now dependent on.

Manoeuvring the narrow mountain roads required full concentration. It also required skills. Cameron was therefore the obvious choice as designated driver. Adam was certain she could have enjoyed a career as a professional rally car driver if she had ever wanted to. The fact that both the CIA and MKULTRA were looking for her sort of ruled out that career option though. “We shouldn’t be too far away now,” Cameron said as she threw the car around a corner. Nina was squirming in the back seat. Adam was half asleep in the front passenger seat. He trusted his daughter one hundred percent. Sometimes he wondered if he trusted her too much.

“It’s been over a year since we’ve had any contact with them. They can have moved on. What do we do then? If they are not there to protect us?” Nina asked.

Adam opened half an eye before answering. “I’m sure they are still there. They lasted for less than a month on their own. I reckon they’ll stay with Marconi for the rest of their lives if they can. It’s the only place Drecker would feel safe. And that’s the reason we have to warn them. This change in laws for psychedelics; It’s all a ploy to search for Cody inside Mexico.”

“How do you know that?”

“Trust me. You’ve seen how MKULTRA has built up the story over the last twelve months. Reporting hundreds of deaths from overdoses caused by psychedelics. Reporting multiple murders committed by people tripping on LSD and magic mushroom. All while downplaying the casualties of heroin, cocaine and methamphetamine. Why have psychedelics suddenly turned so deadly? Why has the use suddenly exploded among teenagers?”

“I don’t know.”

“It hasn’t. Trust me, Nina. It hasn’t. They are just blaming psychedelics. At first I didn’t understand why. Not until we ran into that street dealer in Belize. Now it all makes sense. It’s simple. Everything has been building up to this. To declare a right out war against psychedelics. To get the backing of the Senate to strike inside Mexico.”

“You think the US is going to send troops here? US troops on Mexican soil?”

“We’ve done it before. We’ve taken out drug lords in foreign countries before. As long as their crimes are horrific enough - voters will support it. Marconi has never been close to being in the bad enough category before. Snatching a few tourists every year for ransom, always releasing them unharmed. Producing and selling minor quantities of mild psychedelics, and never ever exporting to the US. Marconi has never been a high-priority target. But with a stroke of a pen the CIA will put him near the top of the list. They’ll be able to apply whatever force they want once the law changes.”

“Shit,” Nina said. “And we’re driving straight into it.”

6

It was mid-morning when Cameron first sensed something was off. Initially she thought she had noticed something on the ridge across the valley. A reflection from some binoculars maybe? Or worse; a sniper rifle. When she tried to look closer she could only see mountains, however. Mountains and forests. She decided her eyes had played her a trick, and didn’t bother waking up Adam and Nina, who were both taking a nap. Five minutes later she had to wake them up. The road in front of her car was blocked by two ATVs, and an old bronze-coloured Jeep Cherokee. Four guys, Mexican Cartel members she assumed, rested casually on the side of their vehicles. Weapons drawn.

“Time to get up,” Cameron said. “We’re here.”

Two hours later they were being driven into camp in the old and rusty Jeep Cherokee.

Before Dr Drecker and his son had split from Adam and Cameron, the two parents had made a verbal agreement and shaken hands. They were both sort of in the same boat; the CIA and MKULTRA were hunting their respective children. So even though they decided to split up, they also decided to stay in contact. Once a year they would meet up at a bar in Mexico City. If one of them didn’t turn up one year, then the other one would know he had been captured or killed by MKULTRA. They had met for the first time last year, and Dr Drecker had told Adam about how he and Cody had been staying with a drug lord up in the mountains for almost twelve months. In reality they were prisoners, but that wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing, Drecker had explained. After three weeks on his own Dr Drecker had realised that he was incapable of keeping Cody safe without help. The drug lord, Marconi, offered protection that Dr Drecker would never be able to provide for Cody. In return Cody only had to keep Marconi alive. The guy was riddled with cancer, and Cody had to heal him at least every couple of months. Cody kept the cancer at bay, and Marconi kept MKULTRA at bay. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

“What happens the day Marconi dies?” Adam had asked. Dr Drecker hadn’t been able to answer that question. He was still working on that, he had said. He just needed more time.

Before Dr Drecker had left their first yearly reunion he had provided Adam with a letter from Marconi. The letter granted Adam, Nina and Cameron free passage through Marconi’s territory, and a safe place to stay. If they ever found themselves in trouble Adam could use the letter to travel to Marconi’s camp. Adam had straightaway decided to never use the letter. He could understand Dr Drecker, the career academic, needed help in hiding from MKULTRA. But in the end he was just a prisoner. Further confirming this fact, Dr Drecker had told Adam that their first meet-up in Mexico would be their last one. Going forward Dr Drecker wouldn’t be able to travel anywhere. The risk was too great for Marconi, his new boss. Drecker and Cody would stay in camp for the rest of their lives.

Initially Adam had wanted to throw the letter away. Instead he had kept it. The truth was that one never knew when circumstances changed. And circumstances almost always changed.

And now circumstances had changed, indeed. If the street dealer in Belize was correct, if the US was about to increase the sentencing for simple possession of psychedelics to life in prison, then Marconi’s camp would soon cease to be a safe haven. Adam had had to warn Dr Drecker.

A father had to warn a fellow father.

Dr Drecker stood in the middle of a big oval when the Jeep Cherokee entered the camp. An hour earlier he had been advised that visitors were on their way. When he heard who it was he could hardly believe his luck.

Surely it was a sign.

Hadn’t he just discussed this very threat with Cody the evening before?

“Good to see you, my friend,” Dr Drecker said, and instead of extending his hand he greeted Adam with a big hug. He then moved on to offering Cameron and Nina the same treatment. Adam felt perplexed. He barely knew Drecker. They had shared an incredibly traumatic experience two years ago though, and Adam doubted Drecker had seen many friendly faces since then. Adam, Cameron and Nina were probably the first friendly faces, actually probably the first Gringos he had seen in twelve months.

“You’re looking good my friend,” Dr Drecker continued. “Life must be treating you well.”

Adam nodded. “Can’t complain.” He had noticed that in comparison to Dr Drecker, who looked like he had aged ten years since they last saw him, their little group had held up quite well. Cameron and Nina had acquired nice tans, and the healthy diet of fish and fresh vegetables had done wonders for their skin and bodies. They both looked stunningly beautiful.

“I thought you said you would never come here. What’s changed?” Dr Drecker asked Adam as they walked toward the living quarters.

“Is it safe to talk?” Adam asked.

Dr Drecker nodded. “Marconi is away at the moment, but he has grown to trust me one hundred percent. As long as Cody and I stick to our agreement we live as kings here. I even have my own assistant.”

Adam studied Dr Drecker with curiosity. He almost seemed proud that he had acquired an assistant. Career academics were really a strange species.

“I think you and Cody may be in danger,” Adam said.

Dr Drecker shook his head. “Nah. Marconi owns the police and most of the politicians around here. There is no way the US would be able to lift a finger here without him hearing about it first.”

“Things are about to change, Martin. In the next few days a proposal will be presented to the Senate. They’re thinking about making possession of psychedelics punishable with life in prison. Get caught with one gram and you’ll be sent away for life.”

“That’s preposterous. It’ll never pass the Senate.”

“That’s what I thought too, when I first heard the rumour on the street. But I’ve checked with some of my old contacts. It will pass, Martin. I have it from good sources.”

Dr Drecker scratched his salt and pepper beard. It was long and full, and covered most of his scrawny face. “So that means we won’t be safe here anymore. It means that the CIA and MKULTRA may start hunting for us inside Mexico.”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Martin.”

7

Dr Drecker paced the floor of his office, restraining himself from yelling at Cody. Why wouldn’t the kid ever listen?

“It doesn’t change anything, Cody. She’s a threat. She’s your only threat.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Don’t you see the opportunity we have here? Marconi can get rid of her in an instant.”

“I can’t believe that you are even suggesting this, dad. They’re our friends. They came here to warn us, and you want to kill them?”

“There is no other way, Cody. When we launch our religion on a bigger scale we can’t have any loose ends. Cameron is a loose end. She has the same abilities as you. You won’t be considered a God if there are others with the same abilities out there.”

“I don’t want to be a fucking God, dad. I’ve never wanted to. It’s you, not me that want to start this ridiculous religion.”

“Ridiculous? We have tens of thousands of followers, Cody. Do you think that’s ridiculous?”

“They’re all idiots. Looking for something special when there is nothing. I’m not a God, dad. I’m a freak of nature. And you know it.”

“You’re not a freak of nature, Cody. It’s the rest of us who are freaks. You’re divine, Cody. You’re special.”

“I’m going to bed,” Cody said, before marching out of his dad’s office. With firm steps he walked straight to his room. Once there, he sat down on the bed and cried. No tears came out of his hollow eye sockets though. Instead small droplets of blood stained the bed sheet he was pressing against his face. He couldn’t let him do it. He couldn’t let his dad kill Cameron and the others. But he knew it was going to happen. He had felt it when he stood in his dad’s office five minutes earlier. Cody didn’t need to look at people’s eyes anymore. He could feel what they were thinking, feel what they were about to do. His dad had made up his mind. He was going to kill Cameron. He was going to kill the only person, in the entire universe, who would ever comprehend what it was like to be Cody.

“We have to move,” Cody said. It was four o’clock in the morning and the sun was about to wake up from its slumber on the horizon.

“Are you one hundred percent sure, Cody?” Nina asked.

“I don’t care whether he is sure or not. We’re not going to stay around to find out,” Adam said. An hour and a half earlier Cody had knocked on Cameron’s door. He had explained that they weren’t safe. Cody’s dad was planning to get Marconi to kill them as soon as he returned from whatever business he was out on. Cameron had found the whole story insane. For almost two years Dr Drecker had been working on establishing a new religion; a cross between the traditional religions and spirituality, with Cody as its official prophet. Despite Marconi’s best efforts to keep Cody’s healing abilities a secret, rumours had eventually spread outside Marconi’s drug operation. It hadn’t taken long before the first poor villager had come knocking on Marconi’s door. At first Marconi had refused to share Cody. Cody was his property, his alone. He wasn’t something one shared around. Gradually Marconi had come around though. He had eventually realised what power Cody could give him. Money and fear could buy a lot of favours, but they could never buy true loyalty. Saving a father’s daughter from her deathbed on the other hand, that was another story. So Marconi started to share Cody. Very selectively though. Cody had healed the ALS-ridden wife of a powerful politician, the paralysed son of a local police chief, and the occasional lucky villager or employee of Marconi’s drug operation. Gradually Cody became much more than Marconi’s life insurance, the human wonder he kept on a leash in case the cancer ever returned. Marconi had in fact realised that Cody had become the true essence of his power, the very reason he was equally loved and feared.

The problem was that not every powerful politician had a sick relative or family member. So what to do? How could he expand his stronghold? Marconi hadn’t come to where he was in life by waiting for opportunities to present themselves. He created opportunities. He invented them. And that was what he was doing at this exact moment in time; inventing an opportunity. He was poisoning the well of one of the so-called incorruptible politicians in the area. Well, time would tell how incorruptible he was when the kidneys of his only son would fail in a week’s time. Marconi, of course, already knew what would happen; the politician would come crawling on his arms and knees, crying and begging for Marconi to let Cody heal his son.