The Dominican Brothers

The Dominican Brother's Villa in the mountains of Colombia






I drink my beer in the tiled shower stall, letting the water run down the back of my head and shoulders. Whoever our hosts are they will have to wait until my batteries recharge. My head aches, the granite of my thoughts is hard to penetrate. I just can't see past that matress and white cotton sheets. I can hear the water running in the bungalow next store. Lou has got to be as tired as I am.

I turn in the sweat covered sheets. It is hotter than hell. Whatever breeze that had been cutting through here when I crashed out is long gone. It is dark with the exception of the full moon occasionally spilling a silvery light into the room as the clouds move beneath it. I find relief on the deck outside, a little cooler and a little breeze. I sit in a cushioned patio chair and prop my legs up.

Morning comes with a five star greeting. A serving tray is rolled in with fresh brewed coffee, pastries, and every kind of breakfast item from british bangers and kippers to Lox and cream cheese. I open my eyes and see Lou sitting on his patio with a steaming cup of coffee and a cigar.
"Couldn't let you sleep the whole day away."
"What time is it?" I stand and stretch. Excellant sleep... I feel completely refreshed.
"Hell I don't know, maybe ten o'clock. I just got my wake up from the same little lady." He gets up and walks inside his bugalow. A short time later he rolls his tray into my bungalow and we are eating breakfast together.
"She told me that we are expected at the main house for lunch in a few hours."
"Great."
"I keep hearing a lot of noise coming from that hanger, like they are working an overhaul or something." He draws off of the cigar and lets the smoke out in a thin stream. "The thing is... Abby is the only plane in there."

We make our way to the hanger only to find Abby with her cowls off, fluids draining, some little guy in coveralls lubing the main gear. Antonelli is on the port wing laying on his stomach while he examines the worst of the hits we took when Abby dropped into that canyon.
"HEY," I shout up to him, "What the FUCK are you doing with our airplane?"
Antonelli props himself up on his elbows, "Relax, just changing out your oil and lubing it up. Been a while since I've had my hands in one of these."
"Yeah, well just because we flew your boys back with whatever you were carrying doesn't mean a damn thing. That isn't your plane, or these fuckers you work for."
"SHhhhh... hey man." Antonelli climbs down from the trailing edge of the wing and down a ladder. He walks up to us, scanning the hanger as he approaches, index finger up to his lips. "Hey man, keep that shit down or we're gonna see some executions before lunch. Know what I mean?" He is serious.
Lou looks around, squats down and takes in the hanger. He straightens up and walks over to Abby.
"I don't appreciate you working on this plane without talking to me first, got it?"
"Yeah, I got it, but you're not the one given the orders, not here... not now."
"Well, I'll tell you what... " I don't get to finish before Lou calls me over to the cargo door.
The back hatch has been opened and the bags are gone. I turn and Antonelli is standing right behind us.
"Yeah, man, they took your money inside for safe keeping."
I go to grab him but Lou beats me to it. With amazing speed and leverage he jacks him up to the side of the plane. Then raps him in the windpipe with a couple of fingers to get his attention.
"You get it back, you big piece of SHIT. Do you know what we went through for that money. It's not ours, Jackass, get it back NOW."
Lou backs off and Antonelli brings his hands up to his throat and tries to massage a breath through it. From behind us, a short balding man in white cotton shirt and pants walks up with a small, well armed entourage.
"Please do not take our efforts as an intrusion... we are only trying to prepare your aircraft for departure." He comes to a stop in front of us and his men fall to parade rest behind him. "Please forgive me. I am Arturo Dominican." He extends his hand. I pause for a split second, mad at all of this, but then figure insulting this man would not be our best interest.
"Jake Allen," I shake his hand, "This is Lou." Lou shakes his hand.
"Do not worry about your baggage from the back cargo hold. I have placed it in my safe in the main house. When you are surrounded by cut-throats and thieves you cannot be too careful."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Please come with me. I will introduce you to my brother."
I look at Antonelli who has recovered and is nodding at me. "Is it okay if I finish servicing your plane?"
"Her name is Abigail... Abby." I give him a hard look. "Am I going to have to come behind you and check everything you do?"
"Fuck you."
"Good, that is what I want to hear. She's a lady, man... treat her like one."

Lou and I, Arturo and his boys, we all walk out of the hanger. Arturo takes the lead and guides us over to a Sapphire Blue Cadillac Escalade. We climb in and drive down the airstrip and then take a right when we are clear. There is a dirt road that leads up the side of the mountain.

"This is our base of operations, we... " Arturo starts to say.
"Hey, Mr. Dominican, if you don't mind I would rather not know anything about this place, where it is, or how your operations works... what that business is. You understand, don't you?"
I feel like I better pull it back some or something bad is going to happen. But I don't want to know anything. It gives this guy less of a reason to kill me or Lou.
Arturo turns in his seat and offers a pleasant smile, "Mr. Allen, Jake... if I was going to kill you I would have done that by now. Do you understand?"
I nod. He looks to Lou and he nods as well.
He turns back forward and continues to speak, "I actually have a business proposition for you, Jake. My brother and I know the value of a good pilot and plane. Not easy to find someone that can fly like you. I was informed that you landed in the Desolation Canyon in an effort to save our cargo. No one has been able to do that. And then to take off out of there... amazing."
I am about to open my mouth to tell him that I am no pilot, but get a jab in the ribs and a sideways glare from Lou. It was a "don't tell him anything" look. He was right. We needed to sit at this table for a while and see what kind of cards come out.
Within a couple of minutes we pull up in front of a mountaintop mansion, spread out amongst tropical gardens and fountains. We drive through and around the side of the sprawling grounds until we are in a long circular drive.
"Looks like a damn casino entrance." Lou whispers to me. Arturo turns. "Beautiful." Lou adds.
"Welcome to La Joya de la Montaña." Arturo says as his door is opened along with ours. We step out into a cool breeze and are escorted in from the drive to a patio where a lavish buffet is set up. Looks like something you would see in a cruise ship brochure. Lobster, scallops the size of a baseball, king crab legs, clams, oysters, seered ahi, every exotic fruit you could imagine... very colorful. I am pissed that I even touched my breakfast.
Sitting at the head of the table is a younger man dressed like Arturo. He is talking on the phone, he seems to growl and snarl like a ferrel dog as he talks. This is obviously the other brother, the bad drug lord to Arturo's good drug lord. He sees us come in and motions us to sit while he finishes his phone call.
"Gentlemen, please help yourself to lunch." Arturo guides us over to the buffet and serves himself. We follow suit and when we are seated a servant steps up with a pitcher of emerald green liquid and pours it into a glass. Arturo grabs his, "This is a special Plantation punch we have been making in our family for centuries," He hoists his glass with expectations for us to follow suit, "To our successful venture."
Lou and I exchange a quick look. Play along is the theme of the day. We lift our glasses. It is then we notice the other brother has finished his call and he is standing with his glass.
"Gentleman, I am Paulo Dominican. I wish to welcome you to La Joya de la Montaña. I also wish to thank you for saving our cargo. Without your assistance in this matter we would have been in a serious problem."
We all drink. The beverage is quite good, melon and something... and there is definately a kick to it. Paulo has one of the servants fill his plate and he talks while we all eat. He praises my skills a pilot, talks about the mansion, about Colombia. He sounds like he is from the tourist board. Very proud of his country. Just when we think we were wrong about old Paulo, he shows his colors.
We are all done eating and we are smoking cigars, not yet having been party to any plan or business dealing. Just being treated as honored guests, I guess. Paulo is explaining the value of a good cigar when "Jack" and two of his men are brought up the the edge of the courtyard and are made to stand at attention.
"You will excuse me for a moment. I must attend to small piece of business. Employee problems... they are constant." He nods and smiles graciously.
Arturo looks at the two of us, "You must excuse my brother. He has the constitution to deal with these matters. I do not."
We look on as Paulo steps up to the three men. One of the men that paraded them up to the courtyard hands him a pistol and he proceeds to shoot two of the men through the head. He leaves Jack standing. Paulo says something into the guards ear and he takes Jack away.
Arturo takes a draw off of his cigar and then explains. "Not all of our cargo made it back with you. And if it were not for the fantastic flying you did into the Desolation Valley we would have lost it altogether. These men have failed for a final time. Why he has let this last man live I do not know."
Oh shit. I look at Lou and he shakes his head slightly, don't fall apart now he says without words. I have the feeling old Lou has seen people die in front of him enough to not let it bother him. Me, only in the movies.
Paulo returns to the table, wiping blood from his hands with one of the white linen napkins from the table. One of the servants brings a wash basin and soap on a rolling cart and he cleans up before re-taking his seat.
"These men have betrayed me for the last time. You cannot run a business like this and allow for these errors more than once." He puffs his cigar to life.
"What about Jack?" Lou asks.
"Jack?" Paulo turns, "Oh, you mean the team leader? He has been given many chances. A very big disappointment."
Just then a blood-curdling scream and black billowing smoke rises from somewhere just beyond the foliage by the corner of the courtyard. The screaming stops five or ten seconds after it starts, but it is enough to bring my lunch up to the back of my throat. They burned him, burned him alive. These guys are fucking lunatics.