The Plan

The Dominican Brother's pool and cabana area in back






At some point in time after the executions, I zone out. I only notice that I haven't been "here" when Lou slides the ashtray over toward me. My cigar ash is almost two inches long. He has been covering for me for I don't know how long. I look up at Arturo and give a weak smile.
"Excuse me... I think I am still a little tired."
"It is okay, my friend. Louis and I were just discussing your flight from Mexico City and the payment you are bringing back to Medellin."
I look at Lou, who manages to wink at me without winking. Whatever lie he is into I have no choice but to play along. I notice now that Paulo is not at the table.
"Yes... they can get pretty pissed when they don't get their payment."
Lou scoots to the edge of his chair, looks at me and smiles. "I told these gentlemen that we could help them out as long as we can make our delivery to our bosses in Medellin." He turns to Arturo and now Paulo as he retakes his seat, "We are already overdue and they will be sending a unit out to find us."
"A unit?" Paulo says.
Lou regroups, he might have overstepped his knowledge, "Uh... yeah, unit. The guys with no tongues, the La Segunda Vida. You guys aren't the only ones that use them."
"It is a kind of custom in our industry." Paulo says as he restokes his cigar. "I am aware that we are not the only ones that allow this mercy. I can assure you that we will allow you to make your delivery. But first you must ask for your assistance to take care of something for us."
Paulo stands and snaps his fingers. One of his staff appears with a map and a few charts and lays them out on the table. Paulo whisks the man away with the wave of a hand and then looks at me. I stand and join him on his side of the massive round table. Before he can speak, the sound of another aircraft fills the air.
"Ah, the other cargo plane is here." He looks at his watch and then at Arturo, "Right on schedule."
Lou looks at me as he steps up to the maps and charts. "Sounds like Abby."
Arturo nods, "It is a plane just like yours. We find this plane to be better for negotiating the terrain and for short take off and landing, as you well know."
Paulo claps me on the back, "But this man is our number one pilot. You are quite good at the "stick" of this machine." I nod weakly. Paulo turns to his charts and maps, "Now, let's get down to business."

Paulo ends his briefing and is drawn away by a telephone call, Arturo along with him for the moment. I look at Lou and we both breathe a collective sigh. Instead of being forced into their employ running product from Cali, we have been tasked with something a little less permanent. It seems that we are to make a cargo drop along with the other plane in the mountains just south of here. I don't know why they can't use the plane that just landed to make two trips, but apparently the logistics won't allow for it. Tomorrow we fly out of here behind this other plane and make the drop as soon as they start theirs. According to Paulo we will fly back here and pick up our money and be free to go, I hope.

Arturo returns after several minutes and invites us to pool area. It is getting hot once again and I am sweating up a storm. Lou is like a weather chameleon, he seems to adapt to whatever climate we are in. He doesn't look the worse for wear but invites the chance to get into the cool water.
"There is everything you need in the changing rooms, gentlemen." Arturo gestures to the cabanas up the stairs past the pool. "I hope you don't mind sharing the pool with our ladies." On cue four extremely beautiful women walk past, two each stopping at their perspective cabanas, waiting for us to enter. Arturo smiles suggestively, "Please enjoy yourselves."
Lou looks and is speechless for a two count while he took in the scantily clad bronze beauties. "I've had threads hanging off my shirts that cover more than that."
"You complaining?" I start for the cabanas.
"No... less is more."

The pool is refreshing, the drinks are exotic and potent, and the company is affectionate and willing. We are left to ourselves for several hours. I have always been told not to swim after a large meal, but sex in a drug lord's pool seems to be okay. So I just sit in the shallow end and
enjoy the company. Before long we are joined by several more people, including Paulo who inadvertently strips us of our female company when he steps into the pool. They know who pays the bills.

After our swim we catch a ride back down to the hanger. Now next to Abby is another DC3, a vision of what Abby might have looked like in her heyday. This plane looks like something you might see at an airshow.
The hanger seems deserted. This is the siesta and many of the workers are taking a bit of a break. I walk over to Abby and look inside the cargo bay. I still feel the sting of that money being out of our possession. We can only hope that these guys are on the level. Inside her cargo bay is our next disaster waiting to happen. I look back for Lou and he is looking inside the other plane.
"Hey Lou, come take a look at this."
I am joined at the cargo door and we both examine the cargo and the drop line to which each flat is connected. "We're making an air drop?"
"The other plane is set up the same way." Lou tells me. "What is this shit?"
"Air drop." Antonelli says as he walks up behind us with the remains of a six pack in one hand and a half finished beer in the other. He joins us at the door and peaks his head in. "I thought they briefed you."
"All they said was that I was to fly behind the lead plane and do what he did when he did. He said nothing about an air drop."
"Well, now you know." He finishes his beer and tosses the empty toward the wall of the hanger. "Beer?" He peels one out of the holder and hands it to Lou. I pass.
"So what is this shit?" Lou points to the cargo.
"You don't want to know... I don't want to know. You ask to many questions then they cap you for knowing too much." He tips his beer and empties half of it. I get the feeling that Antonelli is a little nervous. "I'll be helping you get this shit out of the door, me and another guy."
"And that's it? Just make this drop and we are going to be allowed to go?"
"Is that what they told you?"
Lou kills his beer and tosses the can, "Yep, that's what they told us."
"Let's hope so then. They usually do what they say they are going to do."
Antonelli looks at the cargo one last time and then turns. He has started to sweat a little more than usual. He pulls a shop rag from his pocket and mops his brow. "The other pilot and plane are the replacement for Guenther and his ride. So I know they aren't going to hijack you for the long run."
I don't like the way he is acting, a lot more nervous than the first couple of times we saw him. "I want to know what this stuff is, Antonelli. Is this coke, heroine, what?"
"No, man, don't worry. Believe it or not it isn't anything illegal, I don't think... not like that anyway." He shoves another beer to his lips in hopes of keeping his secret safe.
Lou jumps in, knowing that Antonelli is just a little on edge when his space is invaded. "What is it that we are dropping here?"
"You guys don't want to know. Trust me."
Lou gets within inches of his face. "Either you tell us, or we'll tell Paulo that you tried to get us to smuggle some of their shit out of here for your retirement fund."
"High explosives, man. You happy? Now you know. You got enough high explosives in these two planes to take the top off a mountain."