Victoria Villalobos: Retribution

By Steve Page and Jan Page

An angry woman with weapons, that's what you get when the cartel kills her family. From #1 Best Selling Author, Steve Page comes a high-stakes hunt of vigilante justice.

"I know you

• Language: English
• Publisher: Viva Purpose, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958716007

Steve Page

Steve Page is a #1 bestselling author of three books, including Cut The Crap & Move To Costa Rica and The Ultimate Costa Rica Cookbook. He expanded his writing into the world of fiction with his first crime novel Victoria Villalobos: Retribution. He is the president of Viva Purpose Inc., an international publishing company. He is a speaker, and coach who has helped numerous people transform their personal and professional lives. Through his websites, blogs, and social media, Steve continues to provide expert advice. He has four adult children and continues to travel abroad with wife and enjoys nomad lifestyle.

Book preview

Chapter 2

Desperation and Information

Back at her safe house, the fire thaws the skin, but its warmth will not penetrate any further. Her mind calculates all the details of the day to come. Sleep is something that only comes to those who are allowed the luxury of being completely vulnerable. Victoria cannot remember the last time she slept, but rest was necessary. While she rests, her senses remained vigilant. Her mind is aware of every movement, smell, change in temperature, and sound. It is able to detect threats, even when her eyes are closed. Victoria’s muscles may be relaxed, but her mind and senses are acute.

After a quick recharge, she's on the move again. The sun has not yet made its appearance, but its light is beginning to creep over the mountains behind her. Vic drives toward the abandoned shack, her mind analyzing the events of the previous night, as well as preparing for the meeting to come. She arrives right on time, as the sun finishes its climb over the crest of the mountains

The fresh air fills her lungs and mixes with the taste of her hash pen, providing a pleasant calming effect as she approaches the door. Vic’s eyes sweep the room looking for anything abnormal. When she is confident the building is secure, she sits down across from him.

Mark brushes his hair back from his eyes, takes his hand off the shotgun mounted to the bottom of the table, and wraps it around the neck of the bottle of Smirnoff. He slowly takes in the alcohol, as he takes in her latest appearance.

The last time I saw you, you had long brown hair down to your ass. You're lucky I recognized you walking up. The year since she has seen him has left the pain and loss on his weathered face. The spark of recklessness and excitement is gone from his eyes and is replaced by a void of dark misery.

You hardly resemble yourself, as well. I especially like the homeless drunk bum disguise, she responds.

Fuck you too, Vic! Can we dispense with the warm fuzzy greetings now? he rebuts.

Yes, what have you discovered? she asks.

Mark tells her what he knows of Mr. Gregario's latest plans and explains that she should watch her back. The young man she had the pleasure of spending a quiet night in the outdoors with is not someone she wants to have lunch with.

All I know is, he is a hired gun with many talents. He has had many employers in the past few months, all of whom were extremely satisfied with his results. Since he is still alive and his victims who have been on many powerful peoples' shit lists, are not, I would assume he is good at what he does. Leo is the only name I've heard for him, and we have been unable to locate where he came from. I suspect Hell.

After hearing all Mark had to say, Vic gave her condolences, said her good-bye's, and left him to cling to his last true friends, his weapons, and his liquor. She wasn't sure if she would see him again; he'd lost about as much as a man can take and had been losing his edge for some time. It won't be long before his past catches up to him.

The drive back to civilization is relaxing. She gives her mind a rest while the twisting roads and scenic views give her pleasure. It is hard for her to allow herself to feel even the simplest of pleasures since the life she's been left with callused her to any feelings of happiness. Nevertheless, the tension is relieved a bit, and this allowed her the break that was necessary before she prepared for the next evolution.

Chapter 3

Passed Out in the Club

The glow radiates around the tip of her pen until the hit is done. Vic takes a few long drags and makes her way through the crowd. Her long bleach blonde hair and black clothes blend in such that she is able to move around inconspicuously. She spots Jeremy, one of Mr. Gregario's thugs, sitting at a dark table near the back wall. The heavy base and screaming treble explode from the many speakers strategically placed throughout the bar making it almost impossible to hear a person two feet away yelling at the top of their lungs. Excitement and intoxication built a web of distractions, keeping attention spans exhausted while trying to keep up with all that is happening.

Vic proceeds to approach Jeremy from behind completely undetected by anyone. Before his mind can understand what is happening, she bends over him from behind, her head covering the knife to his throat. Vic whispers in his ear as if she were a whore propositioning him to take her and have his way with her. The knife in her other hand provides the sharp discomfort just under his ribs on his left side. The pain assists his mind in accepting what is actually happening.

Where can I find him? she demands forcefully.

Trying his best to appear in control, he responds weakly, Find whom?

I know you're a moron, but don't act like you don't understand me. So that we are absolutely clear, I will ask again. Where is Mr. Gregario?

The sting in his back and at his neck sharpens as she finished her sentence. At this point fear overcomes him. He knows who she is and what she was capable of. This isn't his first encounter with Victoria, so he knows there is no way out. His only option was to offer up information in hopes she would be merciful.

These two had crossed paths before. He was one of the dirtbags she found getting kids strung out on meth. It was Jeremy's job to get these girls and boys good and zonked. You'd be surprised by the demand and price for boys. Once they were out of their gourd, he would arrange a pickup and once the money was exchanged, they would never be seen again.

He's in a meeting with Novak. They're in a warehouse east of the bottling plant. That's all I know, I swear!

She knows he isn't lying; the smell of urine emanating from under the table assured her of it. Their last meeting made it abundantly clear that if he had not slipped away during the firefight, he would already be dead. This truly was one of those, you'd better hope I don't ever see you again moments.

Take a long drink! she says, the words making it perfectly clear who was in control.

Jeremy slowly reaches for the glass on the table, as she removes the knife from his throat and eased her head back. His head tips back as the contents of his glass run down his throat until he is looking through the bottom.

The glass made contact with the table just as her knife was quickly slid through his skin and internal organs and back out. She was out the door before his head hit the obnoxious print of the tablecloth. Nobody panicked or even noticed for several minutes. The crowd simply saw another drunk who couldn't hold his liquor and passed out.

She's going to have to hurry to make sure she gets to the meeting. It is on the other side of town and who knows how long they have been going already. She must find out their next move and try to get ahead of them.

Chapter 4

The Warehouse Meeting

She slips in and out of the shadows providing camouflage in the black of the night. The clouds veil the light of the moon, providing cover. It is just past 10 o'clock, so the meeting should be taking place. She can see a few cars parked near the entrance to the only building with the lights on. As she turns the corner, she crouches behind a pile of empty pallets.

Vic does not have a good view of the area, so she has to take a risk. Once she is sure it is clear, she quickly eases through the light to the shade of some tarp-covered cargo and freezes in the darkness. For a moment she does not look, but only listens to the conversation taking place in the warehouse. She recognizes two of the voices, but there is a third she cannot place. While she could distinguish the voices of Gregario and Novak, the thick Central American accent belonged to someone she did not yet know.

The men were discussing plans for delivery and the logistics of the payment for the goods. From her position of relative safety, she is too far away to catch every word, but she is able to get the date and time of the delivery and something about a private compound in a tropical location. She needs to find out more. She has to get closer and try to get a look at them. But how? So far, she counts six guards, two at the front of the warehouse, one at the back, and three on roaming patrol. Timing her movements to avoid the view of the stationary and roaming guards is essential.

Vic must get to the forklift parked on the east side of the warehouse. Making her way around to the east, she dodges two of the roaming guards on the way. Next to the forklift, the stacks of palletized barrels on one side and shipping containers on the other make a corridor of light, leaving her totally exposed if only for a moment. Both front guards watch as one of the roaming guards turns to investigate the area to the west of the entrance. Seizing the opportunity, she uses her speed and agility to cross the streak of light from the 4000-lumen yard lamp. She leaps from her position behind the pallets and sprints the 30 meters to the small gap between the containers. Her silent movements propel her into position with the comfort of the rugged rubber handle of her drawn HK-VP9 mil calming her nerves.

So far, no one notices her presence. She slides between the containers to the other side where she is able to use the shadows of the containers as cover to reach the forklift. The forklift shields her from the sight of the guards. From the darkness, she peers through the dirty glass of the warehouse windows to see if she can recognize the face of the third voice. His head is turned to where she can only see a partial profile.

He was wearing tailored pants with a designer button-down and freshly shined shoes. From his neckline, she can tell he had recently visited his barber. This man takes pride in his appearance, his hand gestures and mannerisms exude his machismo. It is impressive to watch him stand toe to toe with Mr. Gregario and not seem to be intimidated in the least. He shows him respect without giving up any of his own. Then he turns his head, and she understands why.

From her position, it is difficult to understand most of the words spoken. As his face comes into view, she makes out one question. So, we can count on the CAC to deliver the shipment to our buyer?, Gregario asked. With those words, clarity washes over her but is quickly overtaken by an overwhelming feeling of fear mixed with rage.

Pablo Arias is not known by many. He is smart and uses a puppet named Juan Robles as the image of his operation. Few know that Pablo is the one pulling the strings of the Central American Cartel (CAC) and that's the way he wants to keep it. This keeps him off the radar of law enforcement agencies and rivals. The only reason she recognizes him is that their paths had crossed years before. As a child, she remembers serving him drinks at a luxury resort on the Costa Rican Gold Coast. He was much younger then and the prodigy of his predecessor Mr. Londoño of the Los Zetas cartel.

It is well known that the Central American Cartel has diversified its' inventory and become a network for the majority of criminal operations. They now operate throughout Central America with cells and connections in cities throughout the developed world. She heard rumors of someone controlling Robles, but it wasn't until the moment she recognized him in the warehouse she made the connection of Pablo being the man behind the curtain of the CAC.

Similar to Los Zetas, the CAC is extremely technologically advanced and trained in paramilitary techniques. They are extremely violent, even compared to other cartels. Unlike their peers, this group operates in the shadows and tries to keep a low profile. They use their technology to fly under the radar and remove any trace of their existence. Law enforcement and governments know of them only as myths and legends. They are the ghosts of the cartel world.

The other cartels don't attack the CAC for two primary reasons. First, the CAC rarely takes a large enough chunk of their business in any one location to consider it a major loss. The impact the CAC has in each small location is like that of law enforcement or standard business risk. The CAC takes small pieces of billions of markets instead of large pieces of a few.

The second reason no one messes with the CAC is quite frankly that they are scared of them. No other cartel can stand toe-to-toe with them when it comes to tactics and technology, and the CAC is ruthless. To them, there is no line to cross. In many cases, the fellow cartels will enter into joint ventures with the CAC. These temporary partnerships help with expansion or to protect themselves from attacks from their rivals. The CAC takes their cut and provides their services, it's a win-win.

Her mind races a million miles an hour as it connects the dots, and the picture becomes clearer. Pablo has a reputation in the cartel world, but it is assumed that he is affiliated and still working with the Zetas. These guys don't exactly post their resumés on LinkedIn. It is hard to know who is working for who at times.

That is exactly what Pablo wanted and what had allowed him to grow this stealth operation. He was respected by everyone who ever met him. His intelligence rivals rocket scientists and neurosurgeons. He toured the world when he was younger, spending a year in each location learning martial arts disciplines from the masters. Since he was a boy, Londoño had tasked each specialist in his organization to train Pablo in paramilitary tactics and weaponry. Pablo is the ideal leader of a clandestine cartel like the CAC.

It's not clear what their plans are, but Gregario and Novak talk about a shipment that Pablo is assuring he can deliver. As she strains to listen, she is able to decipher a bit more of their plan. They say the cargo is being tracked by Interpol and has an expiration date. Pablo assures the others that he can make the shipment disappear through his network of connections in Central America. He would then complete the final delivery.

Her head jerks back as her feet leave the ground. She has been discovered and her attacker has her in a chokehold. She swings the heel of her boot as hard as she can at his groin. Keeping hold of her, he bends forward allowing her feet to hit the ground. She immediately steps to the side and swings her left arm back, striking another blow to his groin. Unable to maintain his hold, she is released, allowing her to gain the offensive. Quickly striking his larynx she silences any attempts to alert the others. Her boot smashes his jaw. His head spins him unconscious with almost no sound.

Checking her surroundings, she sees no signs that the other guards are aware of her presence. It would be best if she can get out without them even knowing she was there. But what about the guard she just took out? When he wakes up, he will report the woman he saw that knocked him out. He can't simply go missing or they will definitely suspect something. Her options are to kill him or wipe his memory. Although her body count competes with the best of them, she only eliminates out of necessity or those who are past redemption. This guy was simply a guard doing his job. Sure, he probably wasn't a nice guy, but he was hardly a major player.

Fortunately, she plans for such contingencies. She always carries benzodiazepines in case she needs to erase her existence. In this part of the world, everyone carries a little alcohol to keep warm, especially those on watch outdoors. Reaching into the inside pocket of his coat she pulls a half-full flask. Shoving the pills down his throat she washes them down with the liquid warmth. Leaving the flask in his hand it appears that he got carried away trying to stay warm. The poor guy will wake up with no memory of what happened.

She slips out through the shadows and makes her way back to the truck she stashed down the road. Winding through the woods, she is careful not to leave tracks.

She has been in the cold too long. With what she just learned, she will soon be exchanging her fleece and flannel for a bikini and some sandals. Winding through the icy eastern European roads, she thinks about how it will be nice to return to her natural habitat.

Chapter 5

Traveling to the Tropics

Handing the delivery guy his money, she notices the look on his face. She realizes, this kid actually thinks he has a shot at her. That's cute. She closes the door in his face and heads to the kitchen. The kitchen of the safe house fills with the aroma of BOM pizza (bacon, onion, mushroom). On her last visit to this safe house, she was impressed by the corner pizza place. She had to order again; they always have great pizza!

She