Presidente’ Franciso Largo sat at his computer and opened up his e-mail account. One of the files didn’t have a name – just a series of question marks. It was an e-mail from his new lover and mistress Denali Veracruz. Largo smiled as he opened it up. As usual, it was pornographic in nature. Veracruz was a real beauty and she took photos of herself from time to time to send to him. That was one of the perks of power Largo thought to himself as he clicked through the photos, the last one of her blowing a kiss. Men in powerful positions had their pick of any number of beautiful women, especially if they were poor.
Denali wanted to meet him tonight, since one of the photos included their favorite secret rendezvous spot near the ocean. It was a former tourist hotel which fell on hard times after 9/11. The Americanos were afraid to take flights anywhere out of the country anymore and El Salvador’s tourist industry was in a major slump. He pushed the button on his phone.
“Si Senor?”
“Call my wife and tell her I will be working late.”
“Si Senor Presidente’.”
“And bring my car around. I will be driving myself home tonight.”
“At once Senor.”
He knew that it was a risk for him to drive his own car without his military driver and escort but for another romp with Denali – he was willing to risk the trip. Besides, with the pay offs that he conscientiously made to the local police chief, crime was suppressed in that part of San Salvador and his political rivals didn’t dare to try and blackmail him. He had too much information of the very same sort on them.
President Largo drove to the poorer part of the city and then parked the expensive Jaguar across the street in an empty lot. He pulled the brim of his hat low over his head and went up to the hotel front desk with his hands in his pockets, strolling through the lobby, whistling. The clerk and manager were well paid to keep his comings and goings secret, so the clerk handed him the key without a word and turned back to watching the soccer game on the small black and white television on the desk.
It was their usual room on the third floor. The penthouse suite was much nicer of course, but also much riskier. Besides, he wouldn’t be there very long. He knocked on the door and whistled quietly.
“Room service, Senorita,” he said smiling. “Soap and towels.” That was their usual secret code. He put the key in the lock and opened the door, taking off his hat.
Denali sat in a chair beside the table, but she wasn’t alone. Beside her was another man with his hand on her shoulder. She held onto his hand and smiled, but this time, it wasn’t her normal seductive one. It was a contemptuous smirk. Behind him, the door slammed shut and another man came out from behind it. Largo turned around in shock.
“What? What is this?”
Vice President Valdez and Generalissimo Montoya came out of the bedroom and stood next to Denali.
“Arturo? Montoya?” President Largo said with his hands out. “What are you two doing here?”
“Me? Oh, I’m not doing anything.”
“Well, what do you call this then? I’m warning you Arturo,” he shook his finger at him.
“I’m done taking orders from you, Senor Largo.”
Largo turned and looked at Denali.
“You? You would betray me?” he pointed at her. “After all the things –” Denali stood up and slapped him hard across the face.
“You are a pig!” She spat on him. “My mother worked in one of your sweatshops!” She said. “She worked herself to death under your cruel regime! I was glad to be a part of this from the very beginning!” She walked out of the room, followed by the other man and they closed the door behind them.
“So, what now?” Largo turned to the Vice President, sneering at him.
“So – I take your place – at least in public.”
“What? What do you mean – in public? So, there’s another one pulling your puppet strings behind the scenes eh, Arturo? That does not surprise me. You have always been a puppet! Who is it then – you, Montoya?”
“No, it’s not him.” The Vice President turned and El Gato Feo came out from the other room with three other thugs.
“You? What are you doing here?”
“He’s the one in charge now, Senor Largo.”
“What? You’re crazy. He’s nothing but a – a,” Largo snapped his fingers. “A street gangster!” He looked at El Gato Feo. “What is a piece of garbage like you think you’re doing meddling with national politics? Huh?” He laughed. “What is your pathetic group of playground bullies going to do against me? Huh? Against an army? My army?”
“No. It’s my army now.” Feo took out an ancient obsidian knife with iridescent feathers on it. “Do you know what this is?”
“I know what that is,” Largo laughed. “It’s a museum piece. It’s what our ancestors used to use when they sacrificed people – to cut their hearts out. What you think you’re going to do with that? Huh? You want to threaten me with a – a stone knife?”
“I am going to use it to cut your heart out and eat it,” he said.
“You’re what?” Largo spluttered, laughing. “You’re insane!”
Feo’s men seized President Largo by the arms and slammed him down hard on the table, shattering the small coffee cups and dishes on the floor. Largo struggled with the thugs, kicking the chairs over.
“No!” He said. “No!”
Feo’s men tore his shirt open, exposing his chest. Montoya and Vice President Valdez stood aside and smiled as they watched.
“Let me go! Let me go! You wouldn’t dare! Bastardo! No!”
El Gato Feo lifted the obsidian knife up high above his head with both hands, his eyes open wide with a crazy look in them and he grinned and screamed like a cheetah as he plunged the knife down deep into President Largo’s chest.
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