16.3 Playa Del Rey

They drove to Balli Beach. It was getting cold so they bought beers and tacos and chose an isolated spot on the beach. Natalia pulled the vehicle back against the dune on the berm and opened the rear liftgate. Both girls cramped in the trunk to keep warm from the cool breezes provided that they wore minimal clothing. There were a few vehicles on the beach and nobody in the water.

Soon they were holding each other in their arms, kissing and cuddling, rapidly aroused in the wild nature of the heavens. They sprawled the backseat and removed their clothes. Cramped in the compact space, Angela held tight on to the roll bar. Loud queefs released in the engine of love making.

Finally, Natalia ended the session, “Six o’clock! We go back to the motel.”

Natalia fired the engine and turned on the radio. She hit a live wire; every TV and radio station was there outside their motel. Yolanda Saldívar had taken refuge in a red pick-up truck holding a gun to her head. Police, Fire, Medics and a SWAT team had assembled. They were in a standoff and ‘negotiating’. She was the shooter.

The singer was taken to Memorial Medical Centre but she had already died.

They drove under a brief shower on Padre Island Drive and it cleared as they reached Navigation.

When they arrived at the motel front, there were crowds, TV crews and vans. Police and a SWAT team in action inside the courtyard. A police car parked in front of the drive blocking entrance to Days Inn.

Natalia parked the car in a parking lot outside a huge auto garage, finding a spot further in. Both climbed down with their bags and towels around their shoulders. Natalia was holding the Bronco keys and the room key in her hand because she did not leave it at the lobby.

They hurled closer to the crowd to take a look. It was cold out there and cloud covered the sky. Daylight fading and streetlights in a glow. Six-thirty in the evening and the sun going down. They could see a yellow truck in the parking lot and figures of the SWAT team in action.

This standoff entered into the seventh hour. At Sea Horse Inn on Ocean Drive, in Room 616, Linda Linz watched the episode unfolding on a 32” plasma television set tuned on to KGBT-TV. Their camera caught the whole seen in the zoom out. A column of crowd appeared in the foreground watching the episode.

Then two figures entered the screen, moved up to the crowd in a loitering manner and paused with their hands folded. They wore light jackets, towels around their shoulders. One girl in red little shorts carried a beach bag on her shoulder, in a white jacket. The other girl wore a black frock and a grey jacket with a black handbag. Sometimes Linda could see the girl in red shorts standing in a side pose. She recognised her; Natalia – alias Mono.

Linda picked the phone and dialled a number. And the person on the end of the line told her that these two girls had entered Playa Del Rey.

Another hour passed in the standoff. Darkness had fallen and the lights, searchlights, spotlights, lit the area. Natalia and Angela decided to go and get ready for dinner somewhere.

Briskly, someone grabbed her by the biceps and pulled her out of the crowd.

It was caught on television but from the rear and a face was not caught on screen.

“Oh Linzy!” cried Natalia turning to look up at the face covered in a hoody.

“It’s you, Mono! What are you doing here?” asked Linda Linz; a tall skinny woman in a Bohemian long dress, white hoody, beaming smile and deep-set hazel eyes.

“Passing by,” she shrugged, “I have been looking for you. When is the festival?”

“Good to see you!” said Linda, “Komos will take place on the 16^th of April. I have tickets. Come with me!”

“I can’t go now,” she vacillated, “we just climbed from the shore.”

“Who?” Linda asked as Angela lingered close to them, “Oh! Your crony!”

“Angie, do you remember?” uttered Natalia.

“Yes, Angie,” she dropped her arms around the shoulders of the two girls, “I have tickets in the van.”

Meanwhile, the KGBT-TV camera zoomed out to capture the crowd but Linda and the girls were out of its field of view.

Linda Linz took them towards a white Chevy van parked on the curb with the driver in his seat. She took them by the left, curb side, to the open pocket door. This van got no windows and a blind interior. However, lights lit inside. Natalia hesitated but she did not want to show it to Linda. Both girls climbed the van.

Linda sat down without closing the door. Undid her handbag and took a pack of tickets. She passed them four tickets, “You can each take a friend.” That instant, two guys climbed the van. One of them carried a Colt with a suppressor. Swiftly, Linda slipped out of the van.

“You two, stay here!” said the white man in pink jacket and grey trousers, hands in his jacket pockets. The other guy was Hispanic, holding the gun pointed at the girls. He shut the door behind.

“What do you want?” muttered Natalia growing conscious of a situation.

“Give me your bags!”

They slowly pulled down their bags.

The Hispanic passed the pistol to the other guy and produced a roll of gag tape.

“Put your hands behind your back!” ordered the guy in pink jacket with bowl cut black hair.

The other guy strapped up Natalia’s wrists from behind and then her legs by the ankles. He ripped a width and gagged her mouth. He did the same to Angela. Then he wound the tape around their eyes to blindfold both of them. Doors banged and then it began to roll to take a U-turn on Navigation Boulevard.

Natalia made some noises but then she sat very quiet. One of them put his hand on her stiffy. Touching – she got horrendously provoked. The men were poking fun at them. Natalia stirred violently to rub her shoulder on Angela who understood what was going on. The other guy pulled Angela’s dress. “Holy Shit!!” He began to grope her and did all the way. Natalia crouched trying to free his hand and, in her movement, pissed to the red slit shorts…deliberately.

This van continued its journey for thirty or forty minutes. It stopped after crossing a bumpy road. Doors opened. They carried the girls in a cold breeze to the boat called ‘Valor’. Natalia knew it was the boat.

After some time, their blindfolds were removed. A black guy in a dark blue T-shirt removed their blinds and stepped out. The guy in pink jacket entered tossing the mini-cassette dictator in one hand and the gun in the other. He took the recorder from the beach bag Natalia carried. The girls lay on the V-bunk in the forward cabin outfitted in red. Dome light switched on and hurting their eyes.

“You little mice!” he called, “You think you know who killed Savon Martin?”

Angela was terrified. Natalia held on bravely not to shake.

Pink jacket continued, “I will tell you who killed Savon Martin. It was Linda. She administered the nicotine dose to kill him. She wanted him dead.”

He pocketed the recorder and leaned over the bunk, “Now, I’m going to make a deal with you. You better take it, one million bucks or you’ll see what happens!” He demonstrated holding the gun with both hands, “I will grasp your hands firmly around the butt,” he lowered the long nozzle within inches of Angela’s frontal, “and blow up her pussy,” he removed the gun slowly, “And I will put it to your head,” he held it towards his head, “and blow your brains.” He lowered the gun, “They will find you in the Boot. You killed your partner and committed suicide. Jealousy.”

He reached down and grabbed Natalia’s fly. “Do you understand!” he growled, “You little swine! Keep out of my business!” He squeezed hard. Tears gushed down her cheeks – signals launched at 265 mph to the brain. He punched her in the jaw, “That’s a warning shot!” Blood dripped from her nose.

The black guy stood in the saloon watching him punch Natalia.

The light went out and the door shut behind. It was silent for several minutes. Natalia dropped her head on a side and the blood stained the mattress. They heard rattles and the boat engine started with a slight vibration. Valor sailed out of Playa Del Rey waters and after an hour and a half it stopped somewhere.