Chapter 40: Sara

Sara was a full member of 49, a few years older than me; this was a job she did well but did not like. Her unique skills were sometimes requested for the good of her home and family. It was a concept she had grown up with in her homeland. She had fallen in love with one of our older members, Diego Gomez, after leaving Israel due to the violence there. She had worked with Mossad so she saw some of the worst.

She joined the army of her homeland, most women serve. Because she had some language skills she was attached to an interrogation unit. She was not formally trained, Sara was regular army, but she was a lot better than most at the business of getting information. Because she was not Mossad, she did not enjoy the security precautions after discharge. When her name and picture got out she was targeted by a suicide bomber and had to leave. She picked the US. Here she met her husband who worked at the Long Beach port. Based on his income they could afford a middle class home, but they chose the apartment for the kids they planned on having.

Right off Sara told me that she was pregnant - early first trimester, so I was to hold it in confidence. Hormones were why she had taken the baby even though she was on call. I understood. I said the right things, trying to be sincere about things I did not feel like Marta stressed, but Sara cut it short, she wanted to talk business.

I explained that this would probably be a short assignment, but she would be helpful in the early stages, especially with the non-ganger couple we had captured and the Sharks. She was welcome to try and reach the ninos, but they were crazy fanatics and were probably a lost cause.

“What did these people do?”

“They are assassins hired to kill me. I wasn’t exactly fair about turning the tables, but I will live longer that way.”

“That is something I had figured out about you. Okay, who are they?”

“The 4 ninos are very expensive assassins. But I guessed how they were coming at me - they did not know who I was, only the car I drove - so I led them to an ambush. Now I want the guy who set them on me. That is the only reason they still live. Well, that and they are messy to transport with holes in them.”

Then I told her I was willing to be more flexible with the Mustang folks and even the Sharks, depending on what they gave us.

I explained about last Friday night’s machetes in the basement, what we thought at first, and what we now knew. She did not know that was my work in the Sunday paper but picked it up quickly. Then I explained the hard part, the ninos looked to be under 20. She had seen suicide bombers younger, her suicide bomber was a 13-year old girl Sara shot just outside the family home as she was angled to go through the front window with a bomb vest.

When she heard my plan she agreed it might work to snap the semi-religious programming that held the kids. Since the guy shot in the leg would die anyway, she agreed we should use that death to make a point. I planned to necklace him with a thermite chaser in less than 20 hours, after sundown Friday. The driver was penciled in for the next day.

She did recall a TV crime drama (a Law & Order episode) that centered on hispanic teen-age assassins conditioned with video games, drugs, food and sex. That show was sanitized, plus these guys did not have the sex. I mentioned the movie “Hitman” which was a similar model. Kidnapping was a for-profit enterprise Mexico, and the ninos started there. They also were used against judges, prosecutors and witnesses.

I explained. “Have you ever heard the statement, attributed to the Jesuits, that goes: ‘Give me the child for the first seven years and I will give you the man.’ Well, the ninos’ owners acquire young orphans and raise them. They prune the ranks with ‘hunger games’ death events, starting at age 5. Then come custom-made violent video games, real weapons and physical training. Their real-life scores set their game attributes. By 12 they are ready for their first assignment, which is often another child or a woman. One of these killed 16 people, with over 30 collateral deaths. There is a retirement myth much like the Perfumed Garden of the ancient assassins in the Middle East. Do you recall who conquered the Assassins? And the means?”

Sara was probably the only one of 49 who knew the answer of the top of her head.

“Mongols. The Assassins ruled several kingdoms as shadow rulers using the threat of assassination, they were seen as unstoppable plus they had a fortress which was considered unassailable. The cowardly leaders involved were deal makers who lived soft lives. All were predisposed to leave the economic infrastructure intact to enrich themselves. They used brutal soldiers against disarmed citizens. These leaders feared death, and that fear gave great power to the mystical assassins. Then the Mongols came on their ‘world conquest’ tour.”

“The Mongols were different, they gave no thought to wiping out 95% of the population in a town, and they were very good at doing it quickly, without proper clean-up. They did not care about infrastructure, they just wanted to claim the land and move on. They were naturally fearless warriors, with the leaders being among their best, so they were not afraid of assassins in the dark, and ‘fear’ was the assassin’s main weapon. They rolled up siege engines and turned the unassailable fortress to rubble.”

I continued. “From the video games the ninos have a strange view of death, they think they will just start another life; the video games gives them three spare lives. That is why death is no threat. If I waterboard them, they will die happy before they tell me anything. They are so young they just cannot weigh consequences.”

My problem was that I had to convince some guys who considered themselves ‘as good as dead’ to talk.

We both knew that the ancient Roman’s had a problem in that there were so many slaves they had to rely on. To keep the slaves in line they needed a punishment that was worse than anything the slave could think of, something much worse than suicide or any quick death. They used crucifixion. If you watch a real one, somebody you know, you will live in extreme fear of the same fate. But I don’t have time for that, so I will borrow necklacing from South Africa, starting with the official rule-book for Winnie’s ‘Mandela United Football Club.’ I intended to tie the others up close enough so they could get the whole ‘backstage-pass’ experience: sight, sound, smell, feel of the heat, and a taste in the air. I intended to add one special extra - a pouch of thermite placed in the mouth.