Dark Aims

Prologue

SANTA CATARINA

LOXICHA REGION, OAXACA, MEXICO

NOVEMBER 25, 2014

The five thousand Zapotec inhabitants still dressed in humble white and red in respectful observance of their ancestral ways, devotedly congregating every Sunday in the town’s church, a baroque colonial structure whose towers rise higher amongst the rest of the town’s humble tile-roofed houses.

The tiny old town sits high in the Oaxacan section of the Sierra Madre Mountains. At times, it seemed to have disappeared through the low clouds. If it were not for the vivid-color houses and the impressive array of exotic flowers displayed by the trees and plants that the Mexican tropical forest provided in its colorful embrace of the town, the town might very well have been erased altogether from the beautiful landscape of Oaxaca’s Loxicha region.

It was a special day for the little town. It was the yearly party in honor of the town’s patron saint. A tradition honored for centuries.

Dancers performed their dancing rituals, elegantly dressed for the occasion, for the multitude and the church’s Catholic priest, who observed solemnly the fruits of a long ceremonial preparation.

Fireworks and music inundated the environment as the town women wore their best clothes along with their perfumed hair, adorned by vivid, colorful flowers. The town’s big fiesta was turning out just fine, perhaps even better than many in the past.

Ritual dancers got their main act ready: a dangerous dance involving fire and chains was about to be performed. But, suddenly, the music stopped. It was all briskly interrupted, people glanced at each other in discomfort.

Music and laughter had come to a sudden halt.

The sound and recoil of a distant explosion was clearly heard and felt in the town as its shock waves agitated the earth beneath the town to the awe and fright of the people.

Had it been an earthquake, the Zapotecs would have known; they were used to them. It was something different this time. Had they provoked God’s wrath?

The priest begged for calm.

They saw the black smoke spiraling up into the skies. No divine power at all. The huge explosion was provoked by the deeds of men.

The huge column of black smoke rose miles away from the old mining zone behind the mountains. The black smoke spread in the skies, reaching well into the clouds just miles away from them.

Perhaps the scariest fact was that the explosion came from the old Ura-Mex Uranium mining zone, formerly known as Elvira II and long thought abandoned ever since the Mexican Government officially shut down the nuclear program once started by the extinguished Comisión Mexicana del Espacio Exterior (CONE) just after the signing of the Treaty of Tlatelolco, in which Mexico surrendered its advanced space rockets program to the United States.

Previous to that, the Mexican Space Program successfully produced an Intercontinental ballistic missile with nuclear bearing capabilities.

The high-tech Uranium enrichment facilities once developed under the extinct program remained functional for peaceful purposes only but, Uranium mining however, had been brought almost to a halt as Mexico’s nuclear energy plants required only small amounts.

Not far from the town, in the mine, Mexican army vehicles and soldiers protected the perimeter as excavators and bulldozers kept digging around the dark soiled extension of the enclosed Elvira II. People, dressed in white robes, rushed around picking samples from the soil that had been removed.

The Elvira II Uranium mine looked quite busy again, just like in the old times.

You blew it, Manuel! Victor shouted enraged as he marched quickly towards the excavator Manuel was operating.

Hey! Tell those assholes not to put the explosives on the shaft yet! Fuck this, Victor! We are not supposed to be here in the first place! Manuel shouted, frustrated from the excavator’s cabin when their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Victor’s radio device.

Twenty four over, twenty four, do you copy? Over, the voice in the radio urged.

This is twenty four, over. Victor responded.

Sir, we just found something you’d better see, over.

Roger that. I’m on my way.

The explosion popped up a huge rock that lied in pieces on the plain surface as the technicians inspected every piece of the founding with mineral scanning devices, taking samples with little drills, putting them in plastic bags to analyze the rock properties later.

Victor walked around the scene like a vulture, inspecting the discovery. He approached one of the staffers performing a sample check on a machine.

So what is it exactly all about? Victor asked intrigued.

Sir, it’s almost all Uranium ore, so far I believe it’s the best quality I’ve ever seen, the concentration is bigger and vastly more abundant that the ones in Reynosa or even the ones in Canada! It would make any process run swiftly. The technician responded excited.

Jackpot! The guys in Geneva will be glad and they’ll pay us handsomely for this! Victor bragged out gladly.

He reached for his pocket and took out a satellite cell phone device punching the keys until the phone got communication, then dialed a cell phone number and waited impatiently for somebody to answer. He didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds, the call was quickly answered.

Señor! We have excellent news. Victor informed notably excited.

Bueno. Have you sent the results to the e-mail address I gave you? A deep male voice responded with a thick French accent sounding clearly unexcited, detached as if he couldn’t have cared less.

Yes sir. Everything is now on file as you instructed

Good. Tell General Ortega you are ready to leave and move fast The voice instructed coldly.

Understood sir. Victor responded, disconcerted about the lack of enthusiasm he just perceived from Mr. Gala, whom he knew only by voice. Perhaps, that was not even his real name, how could he know? The man has paid big money, financing all the scientific expedition, clearing the path and providing protection for him and his team. That was all he cared about, all he needed to be certain about. The voice, as he liked to think about Mr. Gala, had proven to be a serious customer, one with high-level political connections. A powerful man, no doubt. And he had been serious, serious as money. Besides, he had yet to pay the biggest part.

Mister Gala, about our deal …? Victor inquired greedily.

You will be paid handsomely for this Victor, just as we agreed.

The call ended and Victor shouted instructions to his staff Mission accomplished. Now, Let’s pack our shit, people. We are leaving. Be quick!

A dark and tall man approached Victor from behind. He was a corpulent man with wide shoulders and a tough pair of black eyes with exaggerated features. He wore a military uniform, a high-ranking officer one.

General Ortega, Mr. Gala told me we have to leave now. Victor uttered turning to the dark figure, now standing by his side.

Then we have to go Mister Engineer. Is your team ready? General Ortega asked Victor, who nodded.

Tell them to board the jeeps we have arranged for you. We’ll handle the gear and the excavators. General Ortega assumed control.

But the gear is quite expensive general. My people know how to handle it best. Victor objected, feeling something wrong.

Do as I say Mr. Engineer. It is my decision. Now, tell your people to board the jeeps. General Ortega raised his tone making it an order. Victor’s objections just annoyed him.

Soldiers surrounded Victor’s technical staff. Victor looked disconcerted and worried at the general, surprised by the sudden hostile attitude Ortega’s men were showing. The staff didn’t move, waiting nervously for Victor’s instructions.

It’s up to you Victor, we can always do it the hard way, the general threatened.

Y … yes General, Victor muttered, looking pale. The situation just turned way south and he was now sure it couldn’t be for good. Panic was taking over. He felt cold sweat streaming down his forehead and his hands started to shake.

Just seconds later, General Ortega took out his gun with a swift expert movement and pointed it directly at Victor’s forehead. Victor froze in the spot. The sound of the handgun detonation echoed on the nearby rock walls. Victor fell lifeless, with a shot in his head.

I’ve always preferred the hard way, the General smiled.

Seconds later, the rest of the soldiers opened fire against Victor’s staff killing them almost instantly under the satisfied gaze of the general.

The echo of the constant detonations stopped moments later.

Some soldiers piled the dead bodies on the vehicles while others collected the remaining gear.

Suddenly, the sound of a cell phone ringing broke the silence. The sound came from one of the pockets of Victor’s jacket.

General Ortega bent over and turned the corpse over. It was still spilling blood from the head’s exit wound. He checked and found the phone device on one of the dead man’s pockets. He grabbed the phone and answered it. The same French guy talked on the phone.

Victor? the voice asked.

There is no more Victor, responded General Ortega.

That was not part of our deal, General. You were supposed to … the voice protested in disapproval.

I am changing our agreement. Go fuck somewhere else. I already got your money, said Ortega in a defying tone, bragging about the situation, daring the guy on the phone.

A moment of tense silence arose …

You know General, we have other methods … you messed with the wrong party, said the voice in a deadly calm and serious tone, unimpressed by General Ortega’s boldness.

You will never get the Uranium! General Ortega shouted back.

"Really …? We shall see about that General; remember, everything is for sale in that country of yours, you will soon find yourself working for us …

One way or the other …

1.

THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE

MEXICO CITY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2026

That early autumn morning, the Aztec God of Sun woke up in a bad mood, Huitzilopochtli punished Mexico City with suffocating heat making the locals endure just one more hardship on their daily fight to make their bread and butter.

That was certainly not the case of Antonio Cazador, the Spanish business tycoon on his visit to the Mexican Presidential Palace. In all his previous visits to Mexico, he avoided mixing with Mexican locals as much as possible and this time it wouldn’t be different.

The Spanish unofficially ruled over the Mexican economy once again just like it was centuries ago when Capt. Hernan Cortez with the aid of rogue Indian tribes subdued the mighty Aztec emperor with less than six hundred Spanish soldiers.

Many centuries later, history repeated itself. As a bunch of Spanish companies colluded with corrupt Mexican politicians have taken over the country key economic sectors.

Having cruised Mexico City and the security perimeter, the time shown by the golden watch around his wrist indicated precisely eight thirty a.m. and in front of him, the gates of the Official Presidential Residence were opening. He glanced at his watch nervously.

Slowly, the black van of Antonio started to move, motioning towards the main entrance of the Official Residence, just meters away.

He watched patiently from the back seat, his gaze fixated at the main entrance where he was supposed to get out of the vehicle to meet the president’s private secretary, who was already waiting for him just near there. The secretary was on time, just like he expected.

Don Antonio was a handsome fifty-year old business man, 6¨1 height and elegant features framed by an impeccable white hair. An athletic man thanks to professional squash played back in his youth years in his native Galicia, Spain, where his family was counted among the founders of the Galicia Sporting Club, a privileged social status even amongst wealthy Spanish business families.

Still in his prime years, his advance in the international corporate world had been astonishing. Grupo CAZA S.A. has expanded well beyond the initial business lines, now controlling, directly or indirectly, a wide portfolio of more than thirty enterprises in more than fourteen countries in which banking and energy services where the most prominent and lucrative of them all. Success has efficiently silenced all corruption accusations involving his enterprises.

Don Antonio slowly stepped out of the van as one the bodyguards opened the door. The president’s secretary waited for him to get close enough for a handshake. The sun glared clearly in the skies above; the day was warm but clear and perfect.

Hello, good morning, Mister Secretary Don Antonio pronounced with his marked Spanish accent.

How was your trip, Don Antonio? the secretary offered a discrete complicity smile as they shook hands as if they were close friends; nothing could be further from the truth.

Everything was okay. You are most kind for asking!

The president is expecting us.

The president is on a tight schedule, so please walk with me to his office. the Secretary was a very short and tanned man, elegantly dressed in an expensive combination of leather and hand tailored Italian silk. No doubt, the secretary was a loyal servant to the president. There was reverence in the Secretary words every time he mentioned the president.

All right, let’s go. said Antonio with sufficiency as if he had been through it all a hundred times before, although this would be his first time. He knew well how unwise it would be to show weakness in situations like this. Just like the matador keeps a steady hand on the blade before slicing it through the bull’s flesh, he would maintain a steady hand to rip his price.

They reached the presidential ant chamber, an extremely elegant place, a mix of white tall marble walls and fine exotic woods. The living room was decorated with furniture imported directly from Italy’s finest stores. Once there, Don Antonio was asked to wait under the vigilant sight of two perfectly olive green uniformed military guards from the Presidential Guards, Mexico’s presidential guard conformed by the finest men of the Mexican army devoted to the security of the President. Both men stood still as if they were statues on each side of the corridor, both carrying large guns over their shoulders, their standing so tight and silent it felt as if they were not there even though a large number of them permanently watch every square meter of The Presidential Palace perimeter, the biggest safe house in the country. The secretary entered the office leaving Antonio behind.

Don Antonio could barely hear that the president was having a heated conversation in his office.

Don Antonio was not feeling nervous at all, he was more expectant than anything. The truth is that he knew the president very little. Perhaps, he had walked meters away from him in conferences or public appearances in the near past, but he couldn’t remember crossing a word with him. A fact that made him feel a little uneasy.

President Trujillo was known to be a strong tempered man, not somebody who could be pushover easily and certainly not the type to manipulate easily.

Moments later, the office door cracked open letting the short tanned secretary out of the room. He walked a straight line to Don Antonio. He was sat waiting in one of the fine couches.

The president will see you now. the secretary enunciated almost solemnly. Antonio grabbed his briefcase and stood up gently off the couch.

Finally, the time has come.

Inside the big office there was an impressive round table, made of fine wood to the very last detail. Presiding the table, on a big back letter chair, was the president in an impeccable black suit and wearing a red tie.

Two secretaries, the Secretary of Energy and the Secretary of Economy had been briefing the president on the matter for probably an hour or two before the appointment. The president was known to be an early bird with big ears and he certainly liked to honor that reputation. The president pointed at a chair for Don Antonio to sit down exactly at the other side of the table, right in front of him. At first, nobody said a word. None of the secretaries dared to speak before the intimidating president.

Welcome Don Antonio, I am glad you are here with us, said the president trying to make Don Antonio feel comfortable.

It’s an honor to be here Mister President …

Don Antonio, we haven’t met before but you must know I have been following the deal very closely, and I am aware of all the details regarding it. The president’s eyes fixated on Antonio as to emphasize his words.

I’ll leave you with these two gentlemen you already know to close the deal. I must remind you of our agreement. I must warn you! He pointed, in a threatening way.

I’ll be leaving shortly. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m on a tight schedule. The president tried to be polite. He didn’t try too hard.

Yes, Mister President I am a man of my word and a true unconditional friend of yours and your party, I have proved it before and will prove it again, added Don Antonio feeling like a cornered prey, he found himself uneasy in such position.

I am counting on that, Don Antonio, for your own sake. The President put on a fake smile. He kept on All I can say is congratulations. You have become a very powerful man, you must be very proud of yourself.

I am honored, Mister President … He repeated.

The president left the office without further words. The two secretaries came to life after the president left the room.

Very well, Antonio, said the Secretary of Energy with relief once the president left.

Have you reviewed what we agreed on? asked the Secretary of Economy intrigued.

Yes, indeed, everything is ready. The money is going to be put into an offshore account in the great Caiman Island, 10% of all profits made by as a result of the contract. The account will be under the name of CAZA-Guajardo venture funds international. The façade company is registered in Switzerland, it’s untraceable, My lawyers made sure of that. explained Don Antonio, reaching for his briefcase.

He took out a folder containing account papers and legal documentation. Also, there was a small electronic device that looked like a cell phone.

These are the papers containing the info about the façade enterprise and the initial funds, 20 million American dollars upfront. The rest, once we are granted the contract. This little electronic device is an encrypted electronic password. Nobody can access or make any movement on the account without this.

Then he handed over the folder with the papers and the device to the Secretary of Energy.

There was a thick silence as the secretary looked at the papers and examined the device.

Good, Antonio. Everything seems ok.

You will have to prepare as soon as possible a complete technical justification for the press. I strongly suggest you do it rather quickly. The Secretary of Energy emphasized.

The Secretary of Economy cut into the conversation.

The president will meet the Spanish ambassador next week at their regular meeting. They will discuss how to announce the deal after it is done. Have you planned how the money will be transferred to the offshore account?

Yes, it will appear in the books as interest paid to a financial entity. We will make a ghost loan from the façade company to put it into the liabilities section, our financial department and legal team has already worked through it. It will be quite simple since our company is privately held.

Perfect, it seems you have all figured out, Don Antonio. The two men smiled. They were already counting the money in their heads.

Indeed I have, you have nothing to worry about, just make sure the contract assignation goes well.

You have the president’s word. We know how to handle things like this. Do not worry about it.

The Secretary of Economy popped open a water bottle and took a deep sip from it, as if he was tasting the juicy deal he had just closed. They all stood up, no further questions made. Grupo CAZA S.A. was now becoming a major powerhouse in the Mexican energy sector, making Don Antonio one of the most powerful men in Mexico’s business and politics.

The state energy company had become a tragic example of scandal and corruption, from being one of the top ranking companies in Latin America, it has dramatically fallen into the ranks by the hand of corrupt syndicate leaders and greedy politicians. It became a huge wounded whale in the ocean, bleeding, just waiting for the sharks to have a feast out of it, tearing it apart piece by piece.

With the agreement, Grupo CAZA would control all the transportation and storage services nationwide for the state energy company, putting itself into an advantageous position to control Petroleum liquefied Gas distribution and install a huge network of gas stations all around the country as well. Soon, no part of the country would be out of their reach and they would have decisive influence in a business worth billions of dollars a year.

Don Antonio left the Presidential Residence with a big smile on his face.

The helicopter took off, his vehicle of choice for security reasons. He left the black SUV for his Mexican advisors to move along. Both vehicles now headed to the Benito Juarez International airport. His destination: Barajas International Airport in Madrid.

Ring, ring—his cell phone urged an answer. The unexpected incoming call took him by surprise as the helicopter cruised Mexico City skies on the way to the airport. The Periferico Avenue stretched below them.

Hello? … Hello? Antonio? a nervous unclear voice could be heard through the phone. How could somebody know this number? Puzzled, he demanded an answer.