The Charity Chip (30 page)

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Authors: Brock Booher

BOOK: The Charity Chip
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Julio eyed the door.
I should go. I could slip out while they’re talking, but I don’t have my skateboard.
He wondered what the comandante would tell Isak. Instead of leaving, he drank the glass of water and decided he had no other choice but to wait and see.

The uniformed policeman began taking pictures of the bodies. Isak and the comandante stood next to the computer Esqueleto had smashed and spoke quietly. Doctor Kozyar emerged from her office with two black bags and tossed them on the floor next to the lifeless bodies. Isak put a hand on the comandante’s shoulder and pulled him close. With his free hand, Isak pulled the silver cross from his pocket and with one smooth motion deposited it into the comandante’s jacket pocket. Julio felt trapped and helpless like he did the night he was arrested.

Isak and Comandante Ugarteche strolled past Turco’s body and approached Julio. “This is the young man they held hostage at knife point,” said Isak. “His name is Julio.”

Comandante Ugarteche stuck out his hand and smiled at Julio like he was welcoming him to church. “Nice to meet you, Julio.”

Julio forced a smile and shook the comandante’s hand.

“These two gang members have been harassing Julio for a while now,” said Isak as he pointed at Sergio and Turco’s bodies. He reached out and tilted Julio’s head back with his large hand. “See what they did to his eyebrow?” he asked, turning Julio’s head to show the comandante the shaved eyebrow. The comandante nodded and listened with his hands still in pockets.

The uniformed policeman and Doctor Kozyar opened the first black body bag and began sliding Turco in feet first.

Isak glanced over and continued. “Today they held him at knife point and forced their way into the building using the chip in Julio’s hand. Then the leader of the group, the one in the chair, held a knife to his throat and demanded money from Caritas.” Isak shrugged. “I negotiated with them. They broke one of our computers.” He pulled back his jacket and exposed the shoulder holster with the black weapon. “Using my powers of persuasion, I convinced them to release Julio and leave, but as soon as they released Julio the leader lunged at me with the knife.” Isak shook his head and threw up his hands. “I was left with no choice. I had to defend myself.”

Comandante Ugarteche chuckled. “You talk like an accused man. As far as I’m concerned, two
pandilleros
are dead, and the world is a better place.”

“Of course the security footage will validate my testimony,” said Isak.

“I don’t think the security footage will be necessary.” The Comandante stared at Julio. “But I would like to corroborate the events through another witness. Is that what happened, Julio?”

Julio glanced over. Turco’s body bag was zipped up tight. Doctor Kozyar was stuffing Sergio’s body into the other black bag headfirst. Julio looked back at the comandante and nodded.

“Ah, very well then. I’ll have the officer put it all in his report.” The comandante extended his hand to Julio again. “A pleasure to meet you, Julio. I don’t think the gang will be bothering you anymore, but be careful.” He smiled at Julio. “La Victoria is a dangerous neighborhood, and I am a fan of La U.”

Julio couldn’t force another smile, but shook his hand and said nothing.

Carmen emerged from the kitchen with a mop and a bucket of bleach water. The antiseptic smell wafted across the room as she drew close to the bodies and began to mop the floor.

Isak walked over and interceded. “This is my mess, Carmen. I will take care of it.” He took the mop from her and dropped it into the bucket. “Why don’t you go home for the day?” He took her by the arm and escorted her back to the kitchen.

“Of course,
señor
,” answered Carmen. She looked over at the body bags and shook her head. “It’s such a waste.” She crossed herself and slipped into the kitchen.

“That’s why our program must go on,” responded Isak. “We are making a difference in the lives of forgotten children
before
they get involved in gangs.”

Carmen exited the kitchen and closed the door. “I know,
señor
, but it still breaks my heart. They were so young.” She glanced over at the two bodies. “Who will provide them a proper funeral? Do they even have a family?”

Isak shrugged and shook his head. “That is a matter for the authorities.” He took her by the arm and gently ushered her to the front door. “
Hasta mañana, señora,
” he said as she left. Then he turned to Julio.

“Thank you, Julio. You are also free to go,” he said.

Julio could hear the suggestion in Isak’s voice. He stood and slipped on his jacket. Sergio and Turco lay side by side in black body bags in the middle of the room with tubes connecting to the medical machine. Doctor Kozyar stood over them like a farmer selling produce at the marketplace. The smell of bleach lingered in the air. He left the water glass on the table and slipped out the front door.

Light rain was still falling when he crossed the street to look for his skateboard, but it was gone. He pulled his hood over his head and started walking, not even noticing or caring about the rain. He had walked for several blocks before he realized he wasn’t sure where he was going. He looked around and saw that he was a few blocks from Angelica’s apartment. He pulled out his phone and called her.

Angelica answered after the first ring. “Where have you been? Are you okay?” she screamed over the phone.

“I’m fine,” he answered without emotion.

“What happened? I heard gunshots.”

“Look, I’ll explain everything. Can you meet me at the plaza?”

“Of course, sure. Well, at least I can. Martín seems to be very preoccupied. Apparently the mole is working as advertised and he is trying to capture as much data as possible before it gets discovered.”

“Great. Meet me at the plaza.” Julio hung up without waiting for a reply.

The smell of roasting chickens hung in the moist night air as Julio passed Roky’s and crossed the street looking for Angelica. His stomach was empty, but he had no appetite. The plaza was deserted because of the rain, and he could see her standing alone in front of the statue of Manco Cápac. She had a skateboard under her arm—his skateboard.

“You grabbed my skateboard,” said Julio with a big smile as he walked up.

Angelica dropped the skateboard and hugged Julio. “I was worried sick about you,” she said, squeezing him and holding him close. “I was concerned when I saw you with the gang, but when I heard the gunshots, I was mortified.” She released Julio and stepped back with wide eyes. “What happened?”

Julio sighed and picked up his skateboard. He stared at the ground. “I tricked
los mALditos
into thinking that they could get money from Isak.” He shook his head. “I thought they would be a good distraction, and I was hoping that Isak would teach them a lesson, maybe scare them away.” He looked up at the drizzling sky and took a deep breath. “Isak taught them a lesson, all right.” He looked at Angelica and shook his head. “He killed them. He shot Sergio and Turco.”

Angelica shook her finger at Julio. “That’s not your fault. They punched you in the stomach. I saw them. Their type brings trouble on themselves and eventually they get more than they bargain for.”

“But they let me go, and Isak still shot them,” he whispered.

Angelica shook her head. “You didn’t pull the trigger. Isak did.”

Julio put his face in his hands. Angelica embraced him again and pulled his head onto her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered as she rocked him back and forth. “It’s not your fault. It’s okay,” she continued to whisper.

Julio hugged her for several minutes as he regained his composure. At last he released her and exhaled sharply. “So, you got in,” he said.

Angelica smiled. “I got in.”

“How did you know when to open the door?”

“Simple. I put my ear to the back door and listened for Isak’s footsteps.” She chuckled. “His feet are so big it’s easy to hear him.”

“Did you have any trouble planting the mole?”

She looked at him with feigned shock. “Trouble? I planted it and was out of there in less than two minutes, just like riding a bicycle.”

“What do you think we will find?”

Angelica shrugged. “I hope we finally get the hard evidence we need to stop them.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Julio. “Comandante Ugarteche showed up as the investigator.”

Angelica’s eyes grew wide. “Did he say anything to Isak?”

Julio shook his head. “If he did, he didn’t say it in front of me.”

“Good. Maybe we can trust him to help us, once we have something concrete.”

Julio rubbed the chip in his left hand. “How long do you think it will take Martín to find what we’re looking for?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a day or two.”

Julio reached out and took Angelica’s hands in his and looked into her eyes. “Promise me something,” he demanded.

Angelica chewed at her bottom lip. The drops of mist clung to her eyelashes. “If I can.”

Julio squeezed her hands. “If Martín doesn’t find anything by Sunday night, we go to Doctor Barilla and get the chips removed. Deal?”

Angelica squeezed back. “Deal.”

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

La Herida

(The Wound)

T
he gray light of the morning struggled past the black plastic window coverings as Julio awoke with a start. He sat up in bed and looked over at Raúl’s mat, but it was empty. He collapsed back onto his thin bed mat and stared at the concrete ceiling, watching the morning light grow progressively stronger until hunger compelled him to move.

He arose and dressed methodically. His jacket was still damp, but he had nothing else to wear, so he pulled it over his head ignoring the damp smell. He grabbed his skateboard and backpack and shuffled down the stairs. Doctor Barilla’s kitchen was dark and quiet. The metal door scraped against the uneven concrete as he shoved it open and stepped onto his skateboard.

He was hungry, but instead of going to buy breakfast first, Julio skated over to
El Infierno
. The plastic crate where Turco sat was empty. Julio skated to the front entrance and listened. The abandoned warehouse was quiet and dark. He tucked his board under his arm and ducked inside.

He crept up the stairs listening for any activity, but when he reached the top, he found the entire place deserted. He walked over to the fire pit, stepping over food wrappers and discarded bottles. He kicked the black ash with his foot. The fire had been out for hours.

The abandoned building didn’t look so menacing in the daylight. He could see several makeshift sleeping mats made of old fabric scraps scattered among the unsalvageable sewing machines. He walked over to the elevator shaft and surveyed the famed structure that gave the hideout its name. The smell of rotting fabric and urine burned his nose as he approached the open door, but he continued closer. He could see the mound of fabric scraps and the opening to the drainage pipe. He shuddered as he remembered crawling through the filth to get out of hell. At the top of the shaft hung a pulley and broken cable. In the dim light of the morning, he noticed a metal ladder mounted in the wall to his left that would have been impossible to see in the dark. He shook his head. He could have simply climbed out of the shaft that night if he had known. He turned and looked out the window.
Raúl, where are you?

He descended to the street and skated to the supermarket for breakfast. The market was busy on a Saturday morning, and the crowd made him nervous, like someone was watching him. He bought a pastry and a small bottle of milk and skated to the plaza to eat. He stared at the passing crowd halfway expecting Raúl to come skating by with
los mALditos
, but the only person he recognized was the security guard from Roky’s.

His phone vibrated. It was a text from Angelica.
Meet me at Martín’s. NOW.

On my way.
He tossed the empty bottle in the trash and hopped on his skateboard.

Angelica was leaning against the front of the store when Julio skated up. When she saw him approaching, she rushed to meet him and hugged him before he could even get off his board. After an excited hug, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “Come on! Martín says he found the evidence we need to expose Caritas.” Her eyes sparkled.

Julio grabbed his skateboard without letting go of Angelica’s hand, and let her pull him inside. Martín’s lanky frame was hunched over his computer as usual when they hurried through the door. As soon as they were inside, she locked the front door and turned the sign over to close the store.

“So? The mole I planted worked, right?” asked Angelica.

“Like I told you,” said Martín as he still typed at his keyboard, “physical access is total access.”

“And what did you find?” prodded Angelica.

Martín looked up from his computer screen and stretched his arms like he had been in front of the screen all night. His normally clean-shaven face was covered in uneven stubble, and his eyes were red. His Yankees ball cap was pushed back on his head exposing his thinning hair, but he was grinning from ear to ear. “I told you I was right!” he said as he shook a finger at Julio. “That chip inside of you is amazing.” He stood and grabbed Angelica’s hand. “That little chip,” he said, pointing to the space between Angelica’s thumb and forefinger, “can be programmed to control your spending, track you wherever you go, monitor your vital signs, and monitor your blood for alcohol and drugs.” He pointed at Julio with his free hand. “Just like we thought, it also has a tiny dose of flunitrazepam, a sedative, built into it that can be released on command. That is how they got to Graciela. They knocked her out and then showed up to finish the job in person.”

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