Chapter 67 Chapter 67

Chapter 67 Chapter 67


Cavalier continued to turn slowly, his left hand clasped against Laura’s and his eyes closed as if he were still dancing.

“Laura.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t move.”

“Okay.”

“Marcelo.”

—I’m listening.

“Brother-in-law, let my wife go. I swear to our mother that if you let her go now, I’ll hand you over to the judge. You’ll go to prison, but you’ll stay alive.”

“Little brother, that offer expired six months ago. Today I’m either leaving this yard with your wife, or all three of us are leaving in body bags. You decide.”

—Marcelo.

—Little brother, let me explain how this works. The three men I have in the garden have their fingers on the trigger. One is aiming at your mother. Another at your grandfather. The third at me. If I fall, the other two will shoot. If your Derek gets within ten meters of us, the other two will shoot. If your wife breaks free, the other two will shoot. Are you following me?

—I'm coming.

“Good. So, little brother, you and I will dance our way to the gate. Your wife will be between us. My men will walk through the rows of guests. We’ll get into the sedan I have waiting outside. And we’ll leave. If everything goes well, your mother will live. Your grandfather will live. Your guests will live. If anything goes wrong, this will be a massacre, and your wife will be the first to go.”

—Marcelo.

—Yes.

“I want to see the three men.”

“I’ll count to three, and you look to the far end of the garden. One. Two. Three.”

Cavalier peered over Laura’s shoulder.

Three men among the guests, dressed as waiters. One next to Marcela. Another next to Manuel. The third at the far end, against the gate. Each with one hand tucked into his jacket at chest level.

—All right.

“Shall we walk?”

“Let’s walk.”

Cavalier whispered in Laura’s ear.

“Laura.”

“Yes.”

“Walk with me. Slowly. Don’t look at my mom. Don’t look at my grandpa. Don’t look at Carla. Just look at the gate. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“One more thing.”

—Go ahead.

—If they separate us in the sedan, they’ll take you, and I’ll find you. By the ring. Okay?

—Okay.

They started walking.

The orchestra kept playing the waltz, oblivious to everything. The guests—a hundred people clapping softly—didn’t understand why the bride and groom were walking away from the center of the dance floor toward the gate with an extra man by their side.

Marcela was the first to notice.

—Manuel.

She stood up from her chair.

“Son.”

Manuel grabbed her left arm.

“Marcela, don’t move from here.”

“Son, he’s my other son.”

“I know. Don’t move.”

“Let go of me, Manuel.”

“No.”

“Manuel, let me go.”

But Marcela broke free. She slapped her father-in-law’s hand away and took three steps toward the center of the garden.

“Marcelo.”

She shouted at him.

“Marcelo, look at me.”

Marcelo turned his head without letting go of Laura’s waist.

“Mom.”

“Marcelo, son. Let her go.”

“Mom, it’s not against you.”

“Son, let her go. She didn’t do anything to you. Neither did the child.”

“Mom, this is against my brother. Not against you.”

“Son.”

Marcela took two more steps forward.

“Mom, don’t come any closer.”

“Son.”

And then Marcelo’s man, who was standing next to Marcela, grabbed her left arm and twisted it behind her back. Marcela screamed. Manuel stood up three seconds after the screams. Alonso ran toward Marcela with a look on his face he hadn’t had in thirty-two years.

“Let her go!”

The man didn’t let her go. He pointed a small revolver—which he’d pulled from his jacket pocket—at her left ear.

“Back off, old man!”

Alonso stood two meters away, both hands up.

And Cavalier, seeing his mother with the barrel pressed against her ear, lost the composure he’d been maintaining for the past two minutes.

“Marcelo.”

“Little brother.”

“Let go of my wife or let go of my mother. You can’t have both.”

“I’ve got both of them until I’m out of the yard. Okay?”

Cavalier took three deep breaths.

—All right.

“Walk, little brother. The music covers us.”

They walked another six meters to the gate. The man in the back opened the iron gate. Outside, a black sedan was parked with its rear end facing them, the engine already running.

Cavalier squeezed Laura’s left hand one last time before they reached the gate.

“Laura.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“Me too, you bastard.”

“Don’t say that to me now.”

—I’m going to say it anyway.

Marcelo pulled Cavalier’s hand away from Laura’s waist.

“Little brother, that’s enough. My wife’s going alone.”

—Marcelo.

“Little brother, step back.”

Cavalier took a step back. Just one.

Marcelo helped Laura into the sedan through the back door. The man in the back got into the passenger seat. The third man, the one holding Marcela by the arm, slowly let go of her and walked backward toward the sedan, the revolver still pointed toward the garden.

Marcelo closed the sedan door with Laura inside. He got into the driver’s seat.

And he sped off.

Cavalier watched the sedan speed out of the mansion’s driveway at full speed.

“Derek!”

“Boss!”

“The sedan—now!”

“Yes, boss!”

Derek ran to the service parking lot with six men in tow. Cavalier took off his jacket. He pulled the watch with the tracker activator out of his inside pocket. He pressed the red button.

The watch screen took two seconds to load.

Green dot.

Moving south on Third Avenue.

“Derek.”

“Yes.”

“I activated the tracker.”

“I see it, boss.”

“Follow him.”

Marcela was standing in the garden with her left arm hanging down and her right cheek wet with tears. Manuel was three steps behind her. Alonso was standing next to Marcela.

“Son.”

Marcela shouted at Cavalier.

“Son, I’m coming with you.”

“Mom, no.”

“Son, I’m coming.”

“Mom, you stay here with Manuel.”

“Son, I’m going to find Laura and my other son.”

—Mom, no.

“I’m not asking for your opinion.”

Marcela walked to the parking lot. Cavalier was already getting into Derek’s black sedan. He saw her coming. He didn’t have time to argue with her. He motioned to one of the men in the second car to help her into the back seat.

But Marcela didn’t wait. She walked over to the first sedan, opened the passenger-side door, and got in before Cavalier could even look at her.

Cavalier was already sitting on the other side, in the back, looking at the clock display. He didn’t see her.

Derek started the car.

“Derek.”

“Boss.”

“Speed.”

“A hundred on Third. We’ll lose him if he doesn’t speed up.”

“Step on it.”

—Yes, boss.

Cavalier kept his eyes on the watch screen. Laura’s green dot was now heading north through Manhattan, after a four-block detour to the south. Heading up the FDR. Crossing the Triborough Bridge.

Bronx.

—Derek.

“Yes.”

“Bronx.”

“Warehouse?”

“I suspect so. Marcelo doesn’t own any properties in the Bronx. But before he went into exile, he bought three industrial warehouses through a shell company. One in Mott Haven. Another in Hunts Point. Another in Highbridge. Got it?”

—Yes, boss.

—When the target stops, I’ll pass the location on to your men. Operation Plan A, just like the Riverdale rescue. But this time with six more men, not ten. And with much less leeway.

—Yes, boss.

Cavalier took his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed Vargas.

—Vargas.

—Cavalier, I heard what happened.

“Are you near the garden?”

“I’m at the mansion, taking care of your mother. I just checked on her. She’s physically fine, but I have to warn you, she’s…”

“My mother?”

—Yes.

Cavalier remained silent for three seconds. Then he turned his head.

And for the first time since he’d gotten into the sedan, he looked over at the passenger side.

Marcela was sitting next to Derek, wearing a dark blue dress and looking pale, staring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Mom.”

“Son.”

“Mom, get out of the car.”

“No, son.”

“Mom, get out of the car now.”

“Son, I’m not getting out. My other son is inside that sedan with your wife. And the only person in this world he’ll listen to before he pulls the trigger is me. If we’re going to get Laura back, I’m coming with you.”

—Mom.

“Son, don’t argue with me.”

—Mom.

“Son.”

Cavalier took three deep breaths.

“Mom, you’re staying in the sedan when we get there. Don’t get out. Derek’s got your back. Okay?”

“Okay, son.”

“Mom.”

“Yes.”

“One more thing.”

—Go ahead.

“If something happens. If Marcelo shoots before I get there. If we don’t make it in time. If the child…”

—No, son.

—Mom, listen to me.

—No.

“If something happens, you stay alive. For me. For Manuel. For the baby, if it’s born. Okay?”

—Son.

“Mom.”

“Okay.”

The sedan crossed the Triborough Bridge at 12:40 a.m.

Cavalier kept watching the clock’s screen. The green dot suddenly stopped on an industrial street in the Bronx, with no visible name on the map.

—Derek.

—Yes.

“Highbridge.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. An old warehouse by the river. It used to belong to my brother before March. He bought it through a company we call Aurelia Holdings. The same one that owns the plane.”

—Okay, boss.

—Ten minutes.

“Ten minutes.”

Marcela turned her head to look at her son in the rearview mirror.

“Son.”

—Mom.

—That thing you said to me a little while ago.

—Which one?

—The one about me staying alive.

—Yeah.

—Let me tell you something, son. I’m not abandoning you. And I’m not abandoning your brother either. If something happens tonight, it’ll happen with all four of us in the same room. Okay?

—Mom.

—Okay.

Cavalier didn’t answer her.

She turned her head toward the clock. The motionless green dot on the screen.

And in Derek’s sedan, crossing the Bronx at ten to one in the morning, a mother, a son, a head of security, and six trained men—all still dressed in Catholic wedding attire—drove toward an abandoned warehouse where his wife, his daughter-in-law, his child, and his other son came together in the same room for the last time in the history of the Cavalier family.