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“We’re not
finished here, and Mari left without me,” Tamara Drew said as we walked through
Revolution Park, the misnamed but now widely dubbed “Red Park.” She had called
me unexpectedly Sunday afternoon and suggested we meet there. I had just asked
her why, this time, her teacher and colleague, Marietta Là-bas, hadn’t come
with her. She was angry, of that I had no doubt.
“Marietta left
you without warning?” I asked, trying to understand the situation.
“Everything we
had planned fell apart. We were going to make as much progress as possible with
the investigation into the water supply problem in Guadalajara, and then the
three of us would go to Lamb Island. But we miscalculated.” By “the three of
us,” she meant the girl who had joined them for their project, Jenny
Everywhere, the same one who had put me in touch with Marietta almost a year
earlier. I didn’t say anything; it seemed to me that the best thing I could do
was listen to her. She went on, ignoring my lack of response.
“I took care of
tracking down some records, while Mari interrogated some of those involved,
those assigned to sewer system maintenance.” She glanced at me sideways. “She’s
more effective than I am at interrogations, I won’t deny it.” I understood
Tamara’s statement perfectly. I shared Marietta’s interest in the occult and
Hedge Witchcraft, but now I knew that she used her considerable resources—which
weren’t limited to the metaphysical—in a proactive fight for causes she deemed
worthy, using her Craft name or magickal name, Lady Satan; that’s why I was
here. In the last month, the city’s water supply had been alarmingly
contaminated; for several days, the water flowing from any tap looked and
smelled like raw sewage. This had lessened, but the water still had a brownish
hue in several parts of the city; In addition to fecal matter, lead, mercury,
and other heavy metals had been detected in the water. Authorities warned that
it shouldn't even be used for brushing teeth, much less drinking, and
recommended contacting an emergency hotline in case of digestive problems. But
a solution didn't seem likely anytime soon; the government simply recommended
using bottled water in the meantime, and worst of all, some politicians were
openly trying to blackmail citizens by declaring they wouldn't support any
resolution until their party won the next election.
"Things got
complicated," Tamara continued. "Someone followed me, trying to
intimidate me; meanwhile, Marietta and Jenny started exploring the underground
passages that connect to the drainage system, and they stumbled upon… but
anyway, what I wanted to say is that while I was at the SIAPA (1) archives, I heard the radio the employees had on, and I realized our
mistake"—she waved her hand in frustration. When we talked the other
afternoon, that's when I suggested to Marietta that we perform a magickal working
to counteract the one Ari Heller was planning to make the England soccer team
beat Mexico. The original idea was to take advantage of Ari's distraction with
the game to secretly visit his private island and explore it; but in my
opinion, we could do that and also nullify his influence.
"Yes, I
remember that," she said. We approached a concrete bench, and I pointed to
it; we sat down there to talk.
"But we
were under the impression that the Mexico-England match would be on Monday. And
it's not, it's today!" I looked at her in surprise; then I began to
understand.
"The time shift..."
"That's right,"
she nodded, pressing her lips together. "Marietta is French, and we had
seen the article about the match in Le
Monde. And later, when we watched that video of Ari Heller while we were at
the café, Ari also mentioned 'Monday's match'; of course, he lives in
Israel!" But in Jerusalem and France, it's already early Monday morning.
“I contacted
Mari and Jenny as soon as I could, but it took me more than an hour. They were
having trouble down there”—she looked at me strangely—“Did you know there's a
whole network of tunnels down there?” I nodded, and I suppose my lack of
reaction surprised her, because she looked at me puzzled.
“It's always
been an urban legend, but entrances still exist in several places, or they've
been found by accident during excavations. There's more than one tunnel system;
the most well-known was made during the Cristero War, and it consists of six
tunnels that converge at the Cathedral. But there are also some made during
prison breaks from the old penitentiary, which was right here where we are now,
on the park grounds”—I gestured around—“What very few people know is that there
are some even older tunnels, which seem to date back to pre-Hispanic times, to
the city that once stood here; something that archaeologists have been unable
to corroborate because several business owners made an agreement in the 1980s
to conceal the presence of archaeological remains on their properties; these
fools believed that their land would be confiscated and they would lose their
businesses if they revealed it, as they never bothered to familiarize
themselves with the relevant legislation.
“Well, all these
tunnel networks are connected; or rather, they were, because at this point only
scattered sections remain, half-destroyed by the city's renovations. My
grandfather had a map of the tunnels, which unfortunately no longer exists; it
was stolen when he died.” Tamara listened, intrigued, then continued. “Well,
one of the remaining sections must be the one Mari and Jenny found. One of the
foremen they questioned told them about a map his superior had shown him; but
not of a whole network of tunnels like the one you're talking about, just some
passages located under a residential area. They connect to the drainage system
in two places; one of them is sealed off. The foreman had been ordered to
reopen the other and install a door with an electronic lock.”
"Wait, an
electronic lock? And what neighborhood is this in?"
"I don't
remember the name," she shrugged, and I suppressed my frustration.
"But this was before the closure and redirection of one of the drainage
pipes, which caused the water supply contamination. A separate pipe from the
main sewer line; and apparently it connects somewhere with those adjacent
tunnels."
"That's
common too," I added. "Several sections of tunnels are flooded with
sewage."
"But not
all of them will have such specific contaminants," he pointed out, and I
agreed. "And that goes along with what I found; the metals that were
detected in the water are abundant underground in certain specific areas of the
city." Anyway, the lock thing also puzzled them, and they went to
investigate what was there that warranted keeping it locked.
_____
The van stopped
in front of a large house in the Colonia Moderna neighborhood; Marietta got out
of the driver's seat. Wearing her usual red dress and a long, matching red
cape, she was obscured by the shadows of large eucalyptus trees growing along
the sidewalk. Jenny Everywhere got out from the opposite side, a stark contrast
with her casual, youthful clothes and ever-present scarf. She carried an iron
bar. They went to the back doors of the vehicle, and Jenny opened them while Marietta
retrieved a pistol from somewhere. The man sitting there, his hands tied behind
his back, gave them a suspicious look.
"Get
out," Marietta ordered. He obeyed as best he could. They followed him
through the gate of the house, which he had assured them was empty, and through
the garden to the back. There, he nodded toward a drain in the ground,
surrounded by grass.
"That's
it," he said. Jenny used the bar to lift her up and dragged her out,
exposing the opening. Meanwhile, Marietta scanned the garden. There were steps
leading to a back gate with a white-painted iron railing. She nodded and pushed
the man over; then she used duct tape to secure his arms to the railing bars.
She wrapped a couple of times of the tape around his mouth and rejoined Jenny.
"Let's go then," Jenny said, already starting to climb down; there was a ladder on the wall. Once at the bottom, she turned on her cell phone's flashlight. Marietta joined her immediately and switched on a small handheld flashlight. They were in the middle of a drainage tunnel; the stench was strong but didn't seem worrisome. They walked along the concrete walkway that ran beside a small stream of sewage, in the direction the foreman had indicated. The tunnel curved sharply—this had better be worth it, Jenny murmured. About two hundred meters ahead, they came to a junction and followed it; there was no bench, but the filthy water was barely a trickle in the middle of the floor. They walked a short distance, and Jenny's light, as she walked ahead, illuminated a wooden surface on the wall: a door. They approached, and Marietta bent down to study a clearly new lock, chrome-plated and modern, with only five red buttons. It was very recent, and there seemed to be no trace of use to suggest the possible opening sequence. She was about to mention it when she stopped herself, realizing she was alone.
"Jenny?"
She scanned the tunnel with her flashlight; Jenny wasn't in sight. Then she
heard a metallic clang on the other side of the door. She took a few steps back
and drew her pistol as a precaution, but she already suspected what was
happening. Sure enough, the door opened immediately, and Jenny was on the other
side. I had already told her that was a trick he used sometimes. Marietta shook
her head. "You should have warned me," she reproached her, as she
walked through the door.
As she scanned
the site with her flashlight, Jenny did the same along the wall on either side
of the entrance, located a switch, and flipped it. Neon lights flickered onto
the stone ceiling.
"Much
better," Jenny declared, and they both looked at what the lights revealed.
They were bulky
tanks, marked with the distinctive symbol that identified their contents as
toxic materials.
"This
shouldn't be here," Jenny said, going over to check a couple of cardboard
boxes by the wall; both were empty. Marietta headed toward the tanks, noticing
a piece of paper taped to one of them. It had only three lines of text, with a
series of letter and number codes. She pulled one end of the tape to remove it
and take the paper, pressing it against the tank with her other hand; she was
surprised to feel the tank move.
"They're
empty!" Marietta said, checking the others. Then she went back to the
first one and took the paper. Jenny approached to examine it.
"We'll have
to find out what those codes are," she said. "What is this?" At
the bottom of the sheet was a symbol, a kind of logo enclosed in a circle; it
looked like a hand with very long, flexed fingers.
"These
tanks don't bode well," Marietta said. "This confirms what we
suspected: the water contamination must have been deliberate."
"Let's
go," Jenny suggested. "Or wait here, if you prefer. I'll bring Laura
so she can tell us what was in the tanks."
Marietta opted
for the second option; she continued searching the site while, behind her, that
soft "shffft" noise warned
her that Jenny had shifted; she had gone to find her friend. That was how she
had entered the sealed chamber, only Marietta had been too focused and hadn't
noticed the sound. Finally, she found what was bothering her: those tanks
wouldn't have fit through the access door! There had to be another entrance.
But the walls were all stone, brick, and cement. Even using her flashlight, she
found nothing; there were no markings that could be the edges of a hidden door.
Frustrated, she began to search the floor, also without success. Then it
occurred to her to look up: there it was, a square wooden hatch, each side a
meter and a half long. She clambered as best she could onto one of the tanks,
precariously balancing to keep it from tipping over; from there, she could
reach the hatch, even though she had to keep one knee on the tank. Then she
pushed, and to her surprise, it wasn't secured; the heavy hatch opened above
her head and shoulders. Fortunately, the thickness of the tank meant it
supported her weight without any problem. Up there, there was light; and it was
electric, not natural light. She looked around and was startled when her gaze
met that of a man with a shaved head who was staring at her, perplexed,
standing a few meters away. Marietta ducked again, letting the hatch slam shut,
and her hand instinctively reached for her pistol; but the sudden movement made
her lose her balance; the tank tipped over, and she rolled on the ground. The
pistol slipped from her hand.
She straightened
up as she watched the hatch open; she anxiously searched for her weapon, but
couldn't see it anywhere. It couldn't have slipped that far, could it?
As she got to
her feet, she located it beside the fallen tank, a couple of meters away. She
saw movement at the hatch, but her focus remained on the pistol; she needed to
retrieve it. She jumped, landing on the ground, arm outstretched, her fingers
gripping the barrel as the man's feet hit the ground less than a couple of feet
away; she maneuvered the pistol into a secure grip as she rolled onto her back,
ready to point it at the stranger, but he delivered a kick that landed
painfully on her hand, sending the weapon away once more.
The man's hand
clutched something at his waist; he must have had his own weapon. Reaching for
his wasn't an option. Lady Satan rolled onto her stomach again, palm down, and
kicked her attacker hard in the ankle. The man fell face down beside her, and
his revolver shot into the air, in the opposite direction, as he landed with
the hand that had just drawn the pistol between his abdomen and the ground. She
lifted his hand from the ground, flexed her fingers, not into a fist but
keeping the first joints of each finger straight, and struck the aggressor's
temple with the interphalangeal joints. He howled in pain and turned to move
away; he raised his hand with the pistol, but she didn't wait to see if he did
so reflexively or to use it; she closed that same hand over the hand holding
the weapon, twisting it toward him; if he moved quickly, she could get on top
of him.
The detonation
took her by surprise. The man's scream stopped abruptly, and he finished
turning his chest onto his back, breathing noisily. Lady Satan didn't let go of
his hand, but she felt it relax; She disarmed him without resistance and looked
at his face. His wide eyes were unfocused; his gasps were slow and in short
gasps. He took a breath and lay motionless. Only the blood continued to seep
from the bullet wound in his chest.
Lady Satan sat
up on the floor, the revolver hanging loosely from her hand. She sighed and
remained like that as she caught her breath.
She didn't turn
when the familiar hiss occurred; she slowly raised her gaze and saw Jenny,
perplexed, with another equally surprised girl standing beside her, a redhead
with glasses wearing a lab coat and carrying a bulky suitcase. That must be
Laura Drake, the scientist Jenny often referred to.
"What
happened here?" Jenny said. "I can't leave you alone for a
minute."
Lady Satan
dismissed the comment with a weary gesture.
_____
“Then we
compared the codes on the paper Marietta found with those in the documents I
reviewed,” Tamara Drew said, “and we found they corresponded to the ones used
to classify the water supply pipes.”
“And what was the
symbol on that sheet?”
“I forgot to
mention that the man who attacked Mari had that same symbol tattooed on his
wrist. Look.” She rummaged in her pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and showed
me a photograph: just as I had described, it was a kind of elongated, stylized
hand with pointed fingers.
A kind of claw.
“Laura Drake
already analyzed a sample of the tank contents. They match two points with the
toxic elements that contaminate the water.”
“Deliberately
placed there?” I said, shocked.
“Notice that the
document doesn’t have the SIAPA logo; only that symbol. It’s someone else.”
“You’re not
going to tell me now that the director of SIAPA is completely blameless,” I
protested. “Of course not. But there are several interests at play. Look”—she
pulled a map of the sewer network from her pocket, in this case a photocopy
from a book. Several points were marked by hand—“Look, the tunnels the girls
explored are here; we know of others in this area. But there are two places
where the sewage pipes were diverted and connected to the water supply.”
“But… that’s in
the main pipes, before they branch out to different parts of the city!”
“That”—Tamara
looked at me very seriously—“had to be done as part of the renovations carried
out throughout the year. Whoever hid those tanks, and who uses that symbol,
coordinated their actions with these modifications.” “I think contaminating the
water with sewage was used to cover up the addition of even more dangerous
compounds, if that were possible.
—More lethal
than sewage is hard to imagine.
—Consider
mercury—Tamara’s face was taut, grim—. You don’t have to ingest it; prolonged
skin contact is enough. The effects include weakness, lack of coordination,
anxiety, memory problems, and impaired vision and hearing; in children, it can
cause skin diseases and impair cognitive function. The amount won’t be large,
but even if they don’t drink the water, they still bathe in it, wash dishes,
and use it for everyday laundry.
—Why would SIAPA
do that?”
“I don’t think
it’s them; it’s someone else, with greater reach. I don’t think there’s
anything on their part other than indolence and a desire to seize the city’s
resources. They themselves were manipulated, their greed and disinterest in the
people exploited.” Tamara fell silent, and I was so absorbed in processing what
she had said that I didn’t notice the way she was looking at me. It was
curious; a girl of barely eighteen, with short hair, dressed in jeans and a
t-shirt, looking at me as if she were assessing how much of the truth she could
tell me. And that was it; after all, we had barely met in person, even though
there had been previous contact with Marietta. Finally, she spoke again:
“I don’t know if
you’ve heard about the overpopulation control plans that Allon Mushek and other
businessmen have,” she said. In the Eppenstein Files, a letter surfaced in
which millionaire Will Bates discussed with him how to exploit a pandemic to
force the implementation of online shopping under conditions of mass isolation,
and Bates was already stockpiling supplies for an imminent period of isolation…
in 2017.
“Yes, I knew
about that.”
Marietta leaned
forward.
“As I said, I
don’t think the reasons for this are anything other than irresponsibility and a
diversion of resources,” she replied. “As for the direct reasons why the people
in charge did this, this is one of the most densely populated cities in the
country; the urban area is almost six million inhabitants. And the eugenic
plans of certain individuals do not include Mexicans as a survival priority.”
“What we think is that there’s manipulation going on behind the scenes. The
girls from Oktyabr Samizdat (2) told me about someone in particular who’s been doing this, whom some refer to
simply as the Claw. They found evidence of him on Eppenstein Island. (3) I
think the Claw, whoever or whatever he is, is behind these eugenic plans.”
“The Claw,” I
repeated. “Yes, Jenny told me about this. And the symbol you showed me is a
claw.”
“By the way,”
she added, “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the temporary stage Ronald
Trump had set up in front of the White House was named ‘The Claw.’” I didn’t
know what to say; the coincidence was indeed unsettling.
“But then, about
the water…”
"How often
have you been sick in the last few weeks? And how often have people you know
been sick?" I thought about it for a moment. Although some of us were
taking precautions, there had indeed been an abundance of digestive problems
with no clear cause in the previous two weeks. Inertia made our caution lazy.
When I was a child, there was a general sense of caution because the water
wasn't clean, but it wasn't to this degree; even though it was known to be
unsafe to drink, the public and school drinking fountains didn't cause any
harm. How many people were ignoring the warnings? What if not drinking it or
washing with bottled water wasn't enough?
"There's an
hour until the game," Tamara said, looking at her cell phone. "Post
something around that time, please."
"Why?"
She knew of my complete lack of interest in the game.
"The comment
I made on Ari's Facebook post got noticed," she replied. "Look
discreetly; that guy leaning against the wall to your left. He followed us
through the park." I assure you it's Mossad.
"What…"
That startled me. "What does Mossad have to do with soccer?" Tamara
shrugged.
"Well, it
could also be the CIA; but I'm going with Mossad. And I don't think it's my
fault. Ever since you posted the dubbed version of Oktyabr Samizdat's music
video on your YouTube channel, where they show the Neshayahu mask they found in
that hidden recording studio under the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. They filmed
part of their video in that same tunnel. (4) It's not like they're being discreet."
"That's why
I asked a friend to add those filters, to make the video look
AI-generated," I protested.
"But they
had posted the original version on their channel, even though it got blocked
time and time again. Anyway, of course they're going to be watching you."
But now more than ever, since Lady Satan's message to Ari Heller came from your
account. (5) Fortunately, they traced her and confirmed she was here, that the message was
from her.
"Fortunately?
And again, what does Mossad have to do with this? Does Ari Geller have ties to
them?"
"Yes!
Heller not only lives in Jerusalem, she's visited the troops attacking Iran to
give them motivation; she's probably also giving them psychic support." I
leaned back in my seat, worried. I didn't like that Tamara had dragged me into
something like this.
"Remember
that the opposition against Ari is our cover," Tamara continued, without
looking; she leaned toward me and lowered her voice even more. "Ari thinks
Mari is here in Mexico, and that she's carrying out a magical operation to
block his support for the England team. But they don't know about Jenny;
they're unaware that they can get to Lamb Island without going through the
airport." So right now I'm going back to the house we rented, and yes, if
Ari's psychic perception detects the work against him, it will detect Mari's
influence, because I'll use her athame (6); but I'll do the opposing work myself—she laughed good-naturedly. Imagine; the
most famous psychic in the world in "magical warfare" with an
eighteen-year-old witch who's never done anything like this before!
“Seriously
though,” she added, still smiling, “from what I know, Ari is good at this; if
Mexico manages just one or two goals against England, even if they don’t win,
I’ll feel like Selena Fox or Starhawk! (7) Although it’ll probably just show that the thought of Lady Satan’s opposition
made Ari nervous; and if he feels insecure, that’s exactly what could make him
fail. Anyway, I’m exhausted; I’ll do it, just so Ari can detect the work, but I
think I’ll fall asleep before the match is over.” At the time of writing, the
reader already knows the results; Ari Heller, the great psychic, can boast of
not having been defeated… not by Lady Satan, but by a novice who ended up
performing a magic trick half-heartedly and sleepily. I was in contact with
Tammy—I made a couple of posts about it, to emphasize that Lady Satan was
involved—and I know that Mexico’s only goal came right at the time she finished
her spell. "Take that, Heller."
But we wouldn't
learn until the next day what had happened during Marietta and Jenny
Everywhere's raid on Heller's island; they had found many disturbing things.
To be concluded in the next
installment.
“The Threat of
the Crystal Skull” Copyright © 2026 Luis G. Abbadie. It must always be
reproduced with credit given to the author.
Tamara Drew is
an original creation of Luis G. Abbadie, and first appeared in Nancy y el
misterio del grimorio. Siete pasos hacia el Abismo (Tubal Albainn, 2026).
Lady Satan,
originally published in Dynamic Comics 2 (1941) and 3 (1942) and in Red Seal
Comics 17 (1946) and subsequent issues, her best-known version was created by
George Tuska; she is in the public domain due to legal peculiarities.
The character
Jenny Everywhere is available for anyone to use, with one condition: this
paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, so
that others may use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.
The character
Laura Drake was created by Jeanne Morningstar and may be used by anyone without
attribution. All rights reserved.
Ari Heller was
created by Gonzalo Martré and Víctor Cruz in “The Supernatural Golden Statue”,
a story published in Fantomas la Amenaza
Elegante 2-265 (1976); he is taken up again here as a tribute to the works
of his creators.
The Claw was created by Lev Gleason in Silver Streak Comics 1 (1939), and now
belongs to Public Domain.
The Available Heroes is a series of stories that bring back classic public
domain characters, orphaned or open source, to face the challenges of today's
world.
This is a work
of fiction, in which any resemblance to real-life characters and situations is
subject to the rules of parody, and is not intended in any way to constitute a
faithful representation of reality.
2) The rebellious, all-female Russian
rock group led by Octobriana, which opposes the regime.
3) See “Las muchas vidas de Octobriana. Tercera Guerra Mundial”
4) “Títeres del Odio”
5) Actually posted by Tamara;
this happened in the previous installment, “The Threat of the Crystal Skull”
6) Consecrated witch-dagger.
7) Prominent contemporary witches,
known for championing social causes, especially Starhawk, a promoter of social
and magical activism.
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