Chapter 8 - The Aftermath of the Storm
The news of the federal raid on the subterranean vault of the Catherine Williams Support Center broke by Friday evening, but it didn't carry the destructive force Garza had predicted.
Thanks to the secure data transfer Catherine had initiated, the Federal Attorney General’s office had been able to execute twenty-four simultaneous arrest warrants for high-ranking municipal and federal officials before the media even caught wind of the story. The "Williams Ledger" was hailed not as a scandal, but as the single greatest anti-corruption breakthrough in the history of Mexico City.
The center itself was not shut down. In fact, the Attorney General held a joint press conference with Catherine on the steps of the building, declaring the foundation an "essential partner in the rehabilitation of the Northside district."
On Sunday morning, the courtyard was quiet again, the playground filled with the soft, warm light of the summer sun.
Victor sat on a wooden bench, watching Annie and Elena’s son playing in the sandbox. Beside him sat Brian Smith, a cup of coffee in his hand, his face looking more relaxed than Victor had seen it in months.
"The federal prosecutor says Garza’s looking at thirty years without the possibility of parole," Brian said, taking a sip of his coffee. "He’s singing like a canary to try and save himself from the maximum-security wing in Altiplano. The entire Marcus Williams network is being systematically dismantled."
"And the land?" Victor asked.
"Clean," Brian smiled. "The city council voted unanimously yesterday to grant the foundation a permanent tax-exempt status and a ninety-nine-year lease extension. You’re officially the kings of Northside, Victor."
"I don't want to be a king, Brian," Victor said, looking over at the main entrance, where Catherine was talking with a group of new volunteers. "I just wanted to build a place where my daughter could run without looking over her shoulder."
Julian walked across the courtyard, his backpack slung over one shoulder, a stack of college textbooks in his hand. He looked tired but happier than he had in years.
"Hey, Dad," Julian said, sitting down on the edge of the sandbox. "The dean at the university called. Because of the foundation’s work, they’re offering me a full scholarship to the public policy program. They want me to head the student urban development initiative."
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Victor felt a thick, warm lump rise in his throat. He reached out, pulling his son into a tight, brief embrace. "You earned it, Julian. Your grandfather built his name on taking things from this city. You’re building yours on giving them back."
"We all are," Julian smiled, looking over at Catherine, who was now walking toward them, her face bright with a peace that seemed to radiate from her very soul.
