Yolanda and the General

By Juan Sauvageau

The Mexican
Mafia had just lost the protector they had in the highest echelons of the
government. Dr. Jurez could whisper in the right ears, put a good word
wherever necessary, grease the right palms, even threaten on occasions, in
order to cover up for the Mafia's corrupt operations. He had just died in the
arms of one of his lovers. He had to be replaced.

The head of
the organization had made up his mind that General Carranza should be the man
who would be the best replacement for Juarez. To the delegates present at
the meeting, that seemed an impossible task. Carranza was a model of virtue.
He was patriotic to the core, a practicing Catholic, a family man, a
moral straightlaced soul from way back. How could he be made to accept
and cooperate with the illegal and immoral deeds of the Mafia? The don
was given one year, 365 days, to accomplish this feat.

The answer: YOLANDA

How does the head of the Mafia convinces her to cooperate?

Does she realize the mess she is getting into?

Does she remain loyal to the cause?

Does she fall in love with the General?

Does the married and ever faithful General fall for her?

Does he finally accept the Mafia's contract?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 15, 2002
• ISBN: 9781453582855

Juan Sauvageau

Dr. John Sauvageau . Ph.D. from Tulane U. in Romance Languages Publications to date: 1-Bilingual publications (English-Spanish) -STORIES THAT MUST NOT DIE (Folkloric stories from Mexico and South Texas) In its 19th edition. A trilingual edition (English-Spanish and French) is being written by the author and will be published in Canada. -IN SPITE OF THE RIVER-A PESAR DEL RÍO A novel which is in the 5th edition -LA PIÑATA ENCANTADA-THE ENCHANTED PIÑATA Bilingual original poems for children HISTORIAS PARA RECORDAR-STORIES TO REMEMBER Children's stories -EL ESPAÑOL DE CADA DÍA-EVERDAY'S SPANISH A Spanish grammar for 101-102 Sp. -STORIES, FABLES AND POEMS JUST FOR YOU VOL.1-2-3-4 PUBLISHED DURING THE LAST FOUR YEARS. Already in the 3rd edition 2-In English: YOLANDA AND THE GENERAL 3-In French: LE PORTRAIT DU PRÊTRE DANS LA COMEDIE HUMAINE DE BALZAC (Library of Congress)

Book preview

Copyright © 2002 by Juan Sauvageau.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

15361

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

Gregorio Sandoval seemed very satisfied with the new sign posted at the entrance of the fourteenth floor of La Torre de las Américas. It said in big red letters Importación y Exportación. A phony title. Actually the entire floor was the headquarters of the Mexican mafia.

Gregorio, who was the don, the head of the organization, had called a general meeting. He did that very rarely, only when there was a strong, compelling reason because big gatherings, many a time, attracted attention, publicity. Publicity was the last thing the mafia wanted. It survived and progressed only in complete anonymity.

There was indeed an emergency for the organization—Dr. Juarez had died recently. He had served for many years as the mafia’s protecting angel in the higher echelons of Mexican politics. His help had been invaluable through the years. He had been paid handsomely but he had been worth every million pesos he was given.

#

The large conference room was as plush as could be. The boss had seen to it. Big reclining leather chairs, thick red carpeting, velvety curtains on the windows. For this special occasion there are small bottles of tequila and slices of lime in front of every seat.

Gregorio Sandoval walked into the meeting room. His tall, slim frame moved gracefully on the deep carpet. He stopped at the end of the mahogany table and asked for silence. He looked at his guests with a serious expression, holding the ascetic look he had practiced so often when he was a Benedictine monk.

He was aware that his religious past was no mystery to anyone. As a matter of fact, he was called by the nickname of Monkby all his friends. He wanted it to be known that he had been a priest for many years. It gave him a "je ne sais quoi"of intrigue and hidden strength, like if he still had a hidden connection with the heavens.

Rumors had it that he had fallen in love with a young lady. She had gotten tired of the clandestine rendez-vous in the sacristy and the choir loft. Upon her insistence, he had left the priesthood and the monastery. Being a man of extremes, he immediately had gone as far from his vows as he could.

Everyone knew him as a very intelligent man. His classical studies in philosophy and psychology had disciplined his mind and his logical thinking served him well through many difficult situations.

He had worked his way to the head of the Mexican Mafia and for the last eight years, thanks mostly to Dr. Juarez’ protection, he had extended the mafia’s operations throughout Mexico and far beyond.

Monk did not lose any time in getting started.

Gentlemen, you already know the purpose of this urgent meeting. Dr. Juarez died last week in Acapulco in the arms of one of his many lovers. Not a bad way to go but it is a great loss for our country and I must add, for our business.

He paused and with a sarcastic smile added, I represented the organization at the funeral. I even prayed for the repose of his soul. I used to be good at that sort of thing, you know, and the poor devil needed all the prayers he could get. His death has left us without a protector. We can’t operate without a faithful guardian who has the ear of the President of the Republic. We need someone who can cover for us and who knows in whose palms the money should go.

Looking around the table, Monk saw that everyone agreed. Every delegate there had already managed to find a protector on the state level but the organization needed an angel, at any price, on the national level.

It would be difficult to find another man who had the necessary qualities Dr. Juarez possessed. It must be someone powerful enough to twist arms and silence consciences, dishonest enough to take bribes of all sizes without batting an eye and hypocritical enough to look holy and patriotic while fully aware of the contraband, drug deals, prostitution and illicit arms sales going on.

We’re open to suggestions, Monk said. Do you have anyone in mind? Are there any names to propose?

The delegate from Chihuahua was the first to respond. What do you think of José Torres, the minister of defense? He could be easily convinced to play ball with us. He’s in a perfect position to help us. Everyone knows he has made a huge fortune from bribes and kickbacks from contractors.

Monk was surprised that practically all the delegates were showing their approval. Torres sounded ideal: a man with a responsible position who was hungry for power and money. It was common knowledge he had a lover in Cuernavaca. He had bought a sumptuous villa for her. He also owned a lovely mansion on a high hill in the outskirts of Puerto Vallarta where he had another woman. If Torres refused the Mafia’s offer, he could easily be blackmailed into accepting it.

Monk shook his head vigorously. "No, gentlemen, a hundred times no! Torres is weak. I don’t like weak men. Yes, it would be easy to buy him out but with a man like that, he could just as easily sell us out. He has a closet full of skeletons. How long do you think he can get away with stealing as openly as he does while spending money like a madman?

He will be investigated someday soon and lots of dirty linen will be hung on the clothesline. If we’re associated with him, we’ll be part of that mess. Do you see my point, gentlemen?

Yes, replied Francisco Luján from Nuevo León. We can’t trust Torres. I know a man who might be the angel we’re looking for. His name is Tomás Alvarez.

All the delegates turned toward Luján in confusion. They never had heard of Tomás Alvarez before.

I know he might be unknown to you, Luján continued. "That’s because he’s in the military and is working his way to the top. He hasn’t gotten there yet but believe me, he’ll be there before long. He is General Luis Carranza’s assistant and has a great deal of influence with him. Everyone knows the general is the president’s right arm.

Lieutenant Colonel Alvarez is ambitious and constantly in need of money, Luján continued. He has a wife and five children, and he also visits a few other women who receive him with open arms and make sure he leaves with an empty wallet.

Monk was staring pensively at the ceiling while Luján spoke. He suspected he looked as if he was praying; one of his priestly habits that had stayed with him since he had left the monastery, but he was deep in thought about the personal weaknesses of Alvarez.

After a few moments, Monk said, My sincere thanks to the delegate from Chihuahua. The suggestion certainly has its merits but I’m afraid it won’t work. Alvarez is small fry. He would help us very little. We’d end up doing more for him than he could do for us.

Monk paused. A bright idea had come to his mind, a genial idea. It brought an expression of joy to his face. It even made his dark brown eyes twinkle with delight, a rare phenomenon for a man who never showed emotion. I’ve got it, gentlemen! Brace yourselves. When I first mention my plan, you’ll think I’ve lost my mind but after consideration, you’ll realize I have the solution to our problem.

They looked toward him expectantly. Monk had showed good judgment throughout the years. He never had made a bad move and they were ready to go along with him unless his plan was totally outside the realm of possibility.

We want a man close to the president, Monk said. We need a man who is serious and dependable with an impeccable reputation. He paused, enjoying the suspense, then he lowered his voice and looked around the table as he whispered, I don’t want General Carranza’s assistant! I want the general himself!

Sandoval enjoyed the reaction to his words. Everyone was shocked. There was a moment of silence, then everyone spoke simultaneously. The consensus was that Monk’s plan was somewhere between preposterous and asinine.

Manuel Guerrero, the delegate from the Federal District, felt obligated to express the members’ general opinion. Monk, either you’re joking, or you’re crazy. We’ve trusted your judgment implicitly for a long time but this . . . . You’re out of line.

Monk smiled. Continue, Manuel. Say whatever you have to say.

All right. Every Mexican knows General Carranza’s virtues. He’s as honest as the day is long, as pure as Queen Victoria, as catholic as the pope, as patriotic as Joan of Arc and as innocent as a child preparing for his First Communion. How in the world do you expect such a tower of virtue to crumble?

Your description of the man is exact, Monk replied. "You could’ve added that he’s a perfect family man. He accompanies his wife and two daughters to Sunday Mass. But, gentlemen, he’s still a man. I know that to bring him to our side will be a Herculean task, but don’t you see? That’s the beauty of it! It’s a tremendous challenge. I have no doubt we’ll succeed. Everyone has a weak point. I’ll find his. The proverb says, ‘The higher they are, the deeper they fall.’ You’ll soon see how low this man can sink.

"This is my project. I’ll stake my reputation on its success. If I don’t get him, I’ll resign as head of our organization. I might even go back to the monastery. No, that would be overdoing it.

"Even as I’m speaking with you, a plan is forming in my mind. Soon, it will be detailed, shockproof and infallible. I’ll destroy him spiritually, socially and psychologically. The faithful husband will become a skirt chaser. The active catholic will soon be an atheist. The honest man will become a thief. The great patriot will be ready to sell out his country.

Not only will I have him protect us, gentlemen, I’ll make him one of us. All I need is one year. After three hundred sixty-five days, General Carranza will be corrupted from within.

The delegates were skeptical. They didn’t think it could be done in ten years, much less one year but Monk seemed so convinced. After some debate, Monk got his request. He had three hundred sixty-five days to destroy General Carranza.

CHAPTER TWO

Twelve months wasn’t very long a time in which to thoroughly sabotage a man’s values. Monk stared at a copy of the daily newspaper, La Prensa. An article by one of the known journalists in Mexico, Miguel Alfaro, attracted his attention. It was about General Carranza. He was making headlines for his tour of the Pacific Coast military outposts. He had visited Puerto Vallarta, San Blas, Mazatlán and Gaymas to deliver fiery patriotic speeches to each garrison, trying to create enthusiasm and dedication among the troops.

Alfaro even remarked that Carranza’s task had to be a very discouraging one. Most recruits had joined the army only because they could not find enough money to buy their way out. They all felt they were losing two years of their lives.

So the general is on a trek along the Pacific, Monk muttered over his coffee. Perfect. That means his secretary is alone in her office. If I can convince her to go along with the first step of my plan, Carranza is ours. If she doesn’t accept my proposition, I’ll have to try Plan B. Unfortunately, I don’t have the foggiest idea what Plan B is. Oh, Lord, this is a big day. Help me.

He was surprised at his return to prayer. Come on, Gregorio, he chided himself, don’t think for a moment God is going to help you in such a dirty business. You’re on your own.

He drove slowly down the Boulevard of the Reforma. It wasn’t far to the Mexican Army Headquarters but traffic in Mexico City moved at a snail’s pace. He didn’t mind, using the time to prepare his strategy. All he knew about the secretary was that she had held her job for many years.

Monk parked and walked toward the main entrance to headquarters, carrying an attaché case full of recommendations from his former protector, Dr. Francisco Juarez, in case anyone asked for references. He told the guard he was president of Importación y Exportación, SA, and had business papers to deliver to General Carranza.

The general is out on tour, the guard said.

I know, sergeant. I read it in the paper this morning. I sure admire that man. He’s a true asset to our country. He left word with his secretary about my coming here. I don’t have to see him personally.

Excellent, sir. It would take me longer to explain how to reach his office than to take you there, myself. Follow me, please.

Monk and the guard walked through a maze of long drab corridors and finally arrived at an open door labeled, General Carranza. An older woman sat at the desk inside, intently studying a large ledger.

She stared at Gregorio for a moment. He could see she was impressed with his expensive suit and distinguished looks. He was impressed too but in a different way. She seemed to be nothing but one wrinkle from head to toe. She wore baggy clothes that probably came from a thrift store a decade earlier. It was no wonder the general was so virtuous. One could work with Miss Limón for one hundred years without being tempted.

Good morning, señorita Limón. Monk gave her a convincing smile. I’m happy to find you in your office.

Come any time between eight and four, she replied, and you’ll find me here. My boss gets to travel a lot but I hold down the fort while he’s away. What can we do for you?

Monk noticed her use of we. It signified that she and the general formed a team and she wanted Monk to know it. Older secretaries often got like that, espousing their jobs and their bosses. "Señorita, my proposal will seem very strange to you, at first. I’m sure the whole thing will make a great deal of sense after I’ve had a chance to explain it. First, I must say my business is not with the general, it’s with you."

He could see Miss Limón was puzzled but ready to listen. "Señorita, how would you like to earn three times more than you currently make while peacefully enjoying life at home? he asked. There would be nothing to do but you’d get a good check every two weeks. After all, you’ve been coming to this office ever since General Carranza arrived at headquarters. That’s been a long time."

This has been my only job in all the years I’ve been working.

Don’t you think that’s long enough? You deserve to enjoy life and I’d like to give you the opportunity to do so.

A good point had been gained-she was interested but still on the defensive. There must be a catch to this. She looked into Monk’s eyes. You aren’t Santa Claus, young man. What’s your angle? If it’s anything crooked or to the general’s detriment, I want no part of it.

You’re right. There is an angle but it’s a very innocent one. I can see how intelligent you are. During your years of experience, you must’ve heard every scheme in the book. I want to be honest with you, so I’ll put my cards on the table.

Monk sighed. "All I wish to do is help my poor niece. I promised her dying mother I’d do all I could to help Yolanda’s career. She’s currently my secretary at Importación y Exportación but we’re such a small outfit that her career is stifled. We survive from