Chapter 3: Plata o Plomo

Before we head back into Mexico City, we stop at a gas station to take a break.

“Okay, Ramirez, I’m going to the toilet. Try not to get bitten by a crocodile while I’m gone, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, pendejo.”

The gas station is clearly locally owned—small, a bit dirty, and nearly deserted. Looks like it’s just us here.

I head into the mini-mart.

“Perdón, where’s the bathroom?”

“It’s in the back, señor,” the shopkeeper says, pointing.

“Gracias.”

I find an empty stall and relieve myself. As I’m zipping up, I hear the front door open. Probably Ramirez, I think—until:

“Alright, hands up! Hand over the register—pronto!”

Boom!

A shotgun blast echoes. I crouch and carefully move toward the door.

“Come on, I already paid the protection money to the Reyes!” the shopkeeper pleads.

“Well, looks like you backed the wrong cartel,” the robber sneers, hitting him with the butt of his gun.

“Por favor! I have a family!”

Just as he raises his weapon again, I slam the back of my gun against his head. He crumples to the ground, the shotgun clattering away.

I cuff him on the spot.

“You alright, señor?” I ask the shopkeeper.

“Sí… gracias.”

I check the robber’s wallet and hand some cash to the shopkeeper.

“Here—buy something nice for your kids.”

Dragging the guy to the patrol car, I find Ramirez napping. Typical.

I pop open the back door and toss the suspect in.

“Here, I brought you something.”

Ramirez stirs. “Huh? What is it?”

I open the passenger door. “Another tenant for our jail cell.”

“Eh. Are we going to the station first?”

“Before that, drop me at the U.S. Embassy.”

“Why?”

“So you get credit for catching an armed suspect. Might save your job.”

“Eh… gracias?” Ramirez says, starting the engine.

“Wake me up when we get there.”

Zzz...

“Dad, why do you look worried?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing, son. Just... haven’t finished my report.”

He pats my hair. Tries to smile.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Oh! Is that Mom and María?”

“Eh… I don’t think so, Hernández. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room?”

“Okay, Dad.”

But as I reach the top of the stairs, I hear shouting.

“Plata o plomo.”

“Please, hermano. You don’t have to do this.”

“I kept the force quiet about your activities.”

“Then how’d one of my guys get arrested, pendejo?”

“It wasn’t my decision. That man was reckless and you know it!”

“Silence. You’re no hermano of mine.”

A gunshot.

“Descansa en paz, hermano.”

I run back down. My father lies on the floor, a pool of blood soaking the birthday shirt I gave him.

“Papa! No! Wake up!”

I jolt awake.

“Hey, Hernández, we’re here. You okay? You’re sweating,” Ramirez says, concerned.

I push his hand off. “I’m fine, cabrón. Take care of our tenant. I’ll meet you later.”

At the U.S. Embassy

As I enter, I’m greeted by a smug-looking guard.

“Hey, delivery guy. Wrong place. We didn’t order tacos.”

“Cierra la boca, gringo. I’m looking for Tess. She around?”

“She’s in her office.”

I head straight there.

“What are you doing here, Hernández? I’m busy. And don’t call me Tess—it’s Teresa.”

“Ouch. Okay then… Teresa.”

“Whatever. Why are you here?”

“I need intel on cartel activity in the area.”

“We’re not required to share information.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Teresa.”

“If I give you what you want, will you leave immediately?”

“Sí,” I say, sitting down.

“There are three cartels operating near your case site: Arana, Santos, and Reyes—you’ve probably met the last one.”

“Wait. How do you know?”

“We track them. But we can’t act—it’s not our jurisdiction. And your department never uses our intel.”

“Yeah, sorry. We’ve been busy.”

“Busy? You’re chasing a goat killer instead of a drug kingpin?”

Her tone softens. She’s got her own history with them, clearly.

“Actually, this goat case may be cartel-related.”

“How?”

“We talked to a bruja. She sensed someone controlling the beast—or chupacabra.”

“And you believe her?”

“Well, our forensics guy, José, matched the bite marks to a coyote-dog hybrid—something that can be trained.”

She pauses, then her eyes narrow.

“That… might explain a missing chemical shipment at the docks. Came from China.”

“What kind of chemical?”

“The kind that mutates animals. Makes them evolve unnaturally fast.”

“That’s a problem. Can you give me the dock info?”

“Here.”

“Thanks, Tess. I owe you one.”

“And call me Teresa, pendejo.”

Ramirez is already waiting outside.

“Need a ride, sir?” he smirks.

“Ha ha. Funny. Let’s go—we’re headed to the docks. Missing shipment.”

“Alright. I’m driving.”

“Just try not to drive like my abuela this time.”

At the docks

“Ramirez, go talk to the foreman. Ask who the shipment was for, what freight it was, and get the CCTV footage.”

“Got it, Hernández.”

As I walk toward the shipping containers to inspect the scene, I feel cold metal press against the back of my head.

“Freeze. ¡Los azules!”

To be continue can ramirez survive?

See you next Thursday

Hope you enjoy the double chapter upload

Adiós