The Getaway

Ferdi's goat just off the barbaque











We are in for a big meal. We can smell it when we bring the car up to the main house. Ferdi is a wonderful host. Even better once we pay him for his troubles out of Nester’s share of the loot. By the time we are into his beer and tequila he is about five grand to the black. He has had his men kill one of the goats and it is roasting on a spit over this massive brick fire pit.
Ferdi has two daughters, old girls in their thirties. They tend to Ollie, who refuses to go inside and lay on a bed. He is content with his morphine and the one beer he has been holding since we placed him on a recliner where we are all sitting.
The goat smells awesome. There is salsa and tortillas, and a radio that has been playing dance music in the background.
“What are we going to do with Ollie?” I ask Jerry.
“He is coming home with us, if that is what you mean.” Jerry intercepts a bottle of tequila that has passed from Ferdi to one of his men. He takes a swig and makes a face. "Not quite what I expected." He holds the bottle up to his nose and takes a sniff.
“That’s cool. I just wanted to make sure it was alright to move him. You know, doctors and all. We don’t have any doctors there in Nogales.” I kind of state the obvious.
“First off, although Ollie likes us, he isn’t going to watch us fly off with all that loot that he was shot over.”Jerry takes another pull off of the tequila and hands it to me. “Second, Nester’s got a brother who was a medic or something like that. Plus the missionaries have a doctor with them once a month. If he isn’t healed by then, we have them take a look.”
I take a hit off of the tequila. It tastes like citrus, kind of sweet. All of this shit tastes different when it comes from family recipes. “He could be dead from infection by then.”
“Hey, we let Nester take care of that side of it. If we need to fly him to a hospital, then we do that.”
Lou had grabbed a Walker from the plane when we were stashing the bags. He pulls it from behind his ear and fires it up. Ferdi is like in his fifties, but he takes the first pass. He smiles and nods at Lou, who takes the chair next to him and they start talking about “fusiles”, something to do with guns.
Jerry takes his turn with the Walker. It comes to me and I take a deep hit and hold on for dear life. On the way out I choke on it and send myself into the stratosphere. Unfortunately the “babblefish” translation I got that last night doesn’t seem to be working. I am just an observer now. To drunk and stoned to get into any deep conversation. I would rather just sit, smile, and drink my beer.

The view toward Ferdi's airstrip from the ranch, Abby is parked with her back to the rock mound in the distance.

"Hey guys.”
Lou turns and smiles, “Hey Jake, just doing a little target practice. Gonna try Ferdi’s SR60.”
“What are you shooting?” I look to see if they are actually firing at something down there, or at the torches themselves.
“Let me show you.” Lou tucks the weapon into his shoulder. It is still except for the boys talking back at the fire. Lou is as still as a statue, and then he peels off a shot. Down range, the torch on the right explodes in a small fireball.
“Wow”. It looks real impressive.
“Damn it.” He turns to Ferdi and then me, “Just wanted to put it out.”
“Well, you did that, didn’t you. Kinda like killing a butterfly with a hammer,” I tell him.
Ferdi shoulders Lou’s rifle, tells him something with a smile, and lines up his shot. Another round smokes off and the light goes out… no explosion.”
“Son of a bitch.” Lou says. “This guy can really shoot.”
“Esto es un rifle agradable.” Ferdi says, turning the rifle in his hands. He cycles the bolt a few times. “Suavice.”
“Did he say that this is a nice rifle and then that the action is smooth?” I ask Lou.
“Yep.” He turns to Ferdi. “Fully bedded stock, match grade barrel, two and a half pound trigger pull," he reports on the build of his rifle.
Ferdi seems to know what that means and he takes a closer look in the waining light of day. I am done here. Can’t compete with the Mexican Olympic shooting team. I’ll be lucky if I can make it back to the campfire after I piss.
When I finally make it back, after looking to the stars for some extended period of time.. it was a trip, Jerry waves me over. Something is wrong.
“We’ve got trouble, Jake.” He gestures to the long road up to the ranch house. There are three sets of headlights coming up the road.
“Who are they?”
“Cops, Feds, who the fuck knows.” He points to one of Ferdi’s men who was still on the dirtbike. “This cat was questioned at the roadblock and it’s like they knew that we were here. I think they are coming now because of the gunfire.”
“Let’s get out of here. We don’t need any run in with cops. I think we used up our luck this afternoon.”
Jerry turned to Ollie, “Puede mover usted?” Ollie nods, he can move.
“Get Lou, we gotta go.” Jerry says, helping Ollie up from the recliner.
The cops were a ways away, plus there are a couple of arroyos that they have to get through. We have five minutes at the most.
Ferdi sends some of his men to meet them down the road. As far as he knows they are trespassers. The airstrip is actually on the neighboring property, and Ferdi can claim he knows nothing.
We collect our crew and have Abby opened up. Jerry is in the cockpit and he calls down to me to pull the chocks before he even starts her up.
“Your clear.” I call to him.
He spins number one and Abby sputters a couple of times just before she catches and runs up to idle. I look back and see the three sets of headlights stopped on the road where Ferdi’s men have met them.
Jerry rolls on number two. It takes a little longer, and when she fires there is a little more smoke than usual until she gets to idle. I give him a thumbs up and run to climb into the plane. Lou is standing off to the side taking a leak.
“Lou, come on.” I call to him. He has his rifle slung over neck and shoulder. I turn to see the feds have finished with the greeting party and are now coming up the road at us. Jerry stands on the brakes and pushes both throttles to the stops. Lou and I jump in and Lou takes a spot by the door, rifle off his back and into position. Off the brakes and we power roll now, the whole plane is shuddering under the thrust of Abby’s engines.
The vehicles are heading straight for us now, rushing up the road to cut us off. Abby lurches forward. We roll about a hundred feet and the tail is up now. I look from my place in the cargo bay and can see forward to the cockpit, Jerry, and out through the windscreen at the lights of the lead vehicle as it makes the dirt strip. There are flashes of light as the muzzle breaks on their rifles mark their fire.
You can hear the rounds impacting as we pass two of the three vehicles. Lou fires back from the door. I run for the cockpit when I hear Jerry call out.
“Son of a bitches.” Jerry growls. “Help me get her up.” I look quickly as I climb in to the right seat and see that his wrist is bleeding and he is only flying with one hand. “Pull.” I pull back and Abby rises. This is where he always tells me not to pull back too much or we will stall it. But there is a large truck blocking our path and as Jerry yells I pull with all my might. Abby rises abruptly and is on the verge of a stall as we clear the truck.
"Ease off or we'll lose it." Jerry says calmly, working the rudder pedals to clear the high trees on the right. With his good hand he wraps one of the cleaning rags we keep in the cockpit around his bleeding wrist.
As we turn, Jerry tells me how much to clock the wheel, how much lift, how much throttle. I can tell he is in great pain.
In the cargo bay, Lou is firing wildly with our M-16. He has traded the marksmanship of his sniper rifle for an all out blanket effect of automatic fire. Ollie is sleeping in the hammock, oblivious to anything that has happened since he climbed into the plane.
Abby continues to circle around and now we are heading back toward the strip and the trucks. It is only now that I notice that Jerry has passed out from the pain. I am flying Abby.
I see where we are headed and take evasive action. I straighten out the rudder pedals and Jerry' feet move with them, lifeless.
"LOU... Get up here." I check the throttles, both up all the way. Lou appears in the cockpit.
"Jerry's hurt, get him out of here and wake him up."
"Oh shit." Lou manages to slide him out of his seat and pull him into the back of the plane, lifting him into the open hammock.
I start to climb and then remember Jerry's low approach into this territory. It might already be too late. I remember the compass heading we followed to get up here, and just take the opposite heading away from Ferdi's. Just when I start to breath easy, just when I feel that I can fly her for a while... until Jerry comes to, I see the the low oil pressure on number two and the high temp.
"We've got trouble."