The large white man known as Pete told Juan in Spanish to tie the young male reporter's feet together with his belt so he could hold the struggling female reporter down. Juan did what he was told as he removed his belt and tightly cinched Cal's feet together and sat him on the ground.
Pete, cool and calm, pointed the gun at the young man's head and fired. Ginger screamed in horror as she knew her life would soon be over as well.
"Hold her down, Mexican. I'm going to shoot this bitch," Pete said again in Spanish.
Juan grabbed her by her hair as she was still screaming and crying hysterically. Her body fell limp as Juan did his best to hold her up. Pete stepped back and raised his pistol.
Hundreds of miles north of the rugged, barren desert of southern New Mexico sat the governor in his mansion in Santa Fe. The newly elected governor of New Mexico, Zack Wilson, had a problem. The state's most highly regarded law enforcement agency was dirty. The governor needed to find the state police officer or officers working with the Mexican cartels before the FBI took action or the media found out.
The governor turned to an old friend to find the corrupt officers, sending a messenger to contact the former police officer turned recluse, Ignacio Quintana. Quintana, now living in the canyon country of western New Mexico, had grown to like his cows more than people and did his best to stay away from town and his former profession. So when he watched as his daughter rode up the dirt road on her horse with a strange-looking "gringo" from back east, it drew his ire and ended his retirement.
