[ PI ] : The One Constant Part 2- La Muerte Divina : Chapter 2- Stygian Depths and a Means of Recruitment

I got to the warehouse and did a quick recon. There were no vehicles around, but there was a pair of armed guards at each of two doors on opposite ends of the building. Fortunately, I was able to softly land on the roof where I found a hatch the opened up and let myself inside. The warehouse was filled with a whole manner of illicit goods. Stacks of stolen cash, racks of guns and boxes of explosives, from grenades to RPG ’ s to even a few boxes of dynamite, bullet-proof vests. And then there were the drugs. Numerous rows of wooden palettes on which were stacked packages of marijuana and cocaine. Had to be hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of dollars worth, in street value of goods, and that was just the drugs alone. It wasn ’ t until I did a thorough check and was absolutely certain that I was the only person inside that I powered down the suit and began to do a more thorough inspection of the place. 
 
 This was indeed the warehouse that the last Los Zetas member who ’ s brain I ’ d basically strip-mined had met with Z-54. I could see the table they all must have been sitting at in the very center of the building. But there was no sign of him or any of the members there. On it, however, were several maps. A number of locations were marked with different symbols, but there was no legend to indicate what each type denoted. Obviously, these were locations of some importance to the cartel, but in the event the maps were found, the obviously didn ’ t want anyone to know what was to be found there. I used my helmet camera to take several photographs of each map. Maybe after I ’ d done a little more searching, or after I inevitably interrogated a few more cartel members, I might be able to figure out what the different symbols meant. 
 
 As I took the last photo, I heard the unmistakable sound of trucks pulling up outside. Normally I ’ d switch the field back on and make my escape. But if there was a chance that Z-54 had just arrived again for another meeting, then I couldn ’ t pass this chance up. I quickly hid behind a stack of packages of cocaine, making sure that the lights from the ceiling didn ’ t cast my shadow on the ground, least someone see it and know I was back here. I asked Eddie to try to dim the glow from my back and the tendrils. He already knew what I had in mind, and obliged. I checked the silenced pistol I ’ d been carrying since I killed the first safe house full of Los Zetas to make sure the magazine was fully-loaded, just in case things went south. For once, instead of killing and escaping, I was going to hide and observe. 
 
 The sound of the truck engines died down, and I heard voices speaking in Spanish as doors open and closed. The voices steadily grew louder as several people approached one of the doors. I took a peek as best I could between the drug packages stacked on top of the palettes as the door opened and four men stepped inside. Two were armed with AK-47 ’ s, one carried a sidearm and wore a ski-mask, like the three members had in the memory I had extracted from the Los Zetas member earlier, and the fourth was unarmed, and looked a good deal younger- maybe only 18 or 19- than any of the guards or the two gunmen that came in with the group. My guess was that he must be new, some sort of initiate. I turned my attention to the masked man. I didn ’ t see the necklace around him, so either he wasn ’ t Z-54, or it was, and he had simply chosen not to wear it today. As it stood, there was no way for me to know. I couldn ’ t make any sort of attack. If I killed the other 3 and extracted the memories of the masked man, and it turned out not to be the so-called “ Z-54, ” then I would have killed one of their leadership. In that case, the other leaders, the “ Z ’ s, ” I suppose you could call them, would no longer find out very quickly, and would likely go underground. And since I had no idea where to even begin looking for Z-54 as it was, finding him would then become an impossibility if that happened. 
 
 No. My only hope was to listen in on this meeting, and see what I could find out. 
 
 I turned on the audio recorder in my helmet, just in case I couldn ’ t make out anything in the conversation, I could at least go back to it later and figure out what I ’ d missed. I didn ’ t bother turning on the helmet camera. While I was able to peek in between the stacks of white, there was no way I ’ d know if the camera was positioned properly, plus it was more important that I see the events here as they unfolded. 
 
 And so I watched and listened. 
 
 “ Jacobo Torres. ” The masked man said to the teen as they both sat down at the table across from each other. One guard took up the masked man ’ s flank. The other remained standing behind the young man. 
 
 “ We have one last simple assignment for you. ” The masked man continued in Spanish. “ Do this for us, and you will officially be a full-fledged member. ” 
 
 I continued to watch through the small cracks between the stacks of cocaine as they spoke. The young man didn ’ t say a word as the masked one spoke. The kid was either smart enough to know not to speak unless asked, or he ’ d already had the lesson smacked into the back of his head more than once. Given his age, I was willing to bet the latter. 
 
 “ You will go here to our safehouse in *Palizada*. ” The masked man said as he put his finger on the map. “ Once there, you ’ ll wait for one of our men to deliver a package to you. When he does, he will ask you ‘ How your Aunt Felicia is doing. ’ You will reply in one of two ways. ” 
 
 There was a brief pause. The young man remained silent. 
 
 “ If there ’ s no trouble. You will tell him ‘ She ’ s finally out of the hospital and back home. ” If you think you were followed, or you ’ re being watched, or if someone else is in the safehouse with you, you will tell them, ‘ She ’ s still in the hospital but is getting better. ’ ” 
 
 The masked man stopped talking for several beats. Once again, the young man, Jacobo, kept his mouth shut. 
 
 “ Your next set of instructions will be given to you depending upon your answer. Do this for us, and you ’ re in. Fail us, and I don ’ t need to tell you of the consequences. ” 
 
 The masked man leaned back in his chair. “ Do you have any questions? ” 
 
 “ No, sir. ” The only words that the young man spoke. 
 
 “ Alright then. ” The masked man said as he stood up and the guards began to follow him out. 
 
 As they walked, the masked man stopped and turned to look at Jacobo, still in his seat. “ Well? You have your orders. Get to it! ” 
 
 The young man immediately got out of his chair and followed them out of the building. 
 
 It didn ’ t take a genius to determine how these orders would differ depending on the answer he gave. If he carried out his deal as planned, the deliveryman would tell him where to take the package. If he gave any hint that he had been followed, then the “ deliveryman ” would most likely kill him, either there on the spot, or convince him to get in a vehicle with him where he ’ d kill him then, and dispose of the body somewhere more remote. 
 
 As they closed the door behind them. I looked behind me and noticed several open crates of hand grenades and dynamite. I looked back between the racks of stacked cocaine bags I ’ d been hiding behind to make sure the warehouse was completely empty. Once I was sure I walked over to the open dynamite crate. 
 
 Extra long fuses. Tie a few together and you could probably get several minutes worth of burn before they went off. 
 
 I had an idea. It would be dirty, but it might bring me one step closer to finding out where “ Z-54 ” was hiding out. I would need a few things first. I was sure one of the larger towns nearby had somewhere I could “ acquire ” some cell-phones. 
 
 As I grabbed several sticks of dynamite and tucked them safely away in a pocket on my leg, I prepared to make my exit the same way I came in- through the hatch in the ceiling. 
 
 I ’ ll be seeing you real soon, Jacobo Torres.
