The Bear and KOZANOSTRAW

A picture I took on the way out to
Bear's ship the KOZANOSTRAW



Lou hides behind black RayBans as we put the first fifteen minute of the drive behind us. He smoked that whole Walker as soon as we touched down and now he is feeling it's effects. This leaves me in a bit of a bind for translating the continuing conversation coming from the front seat.
The guy in suit turns in his seat and rattles something off in the local tongue. He looks at me and I just raise my eyebrows a little. "Mr. Allen, we will have to make stop to have Mr. Antonelli's son cleaned up and made presentable. This should not take long." He smiles, "I don't think that his father would want to greet him while he lay in his own shit."
"Hey, I just fly the plane, and Lou here is the co-pilot. They buckled him in there and I just assumed that he was okay." I see the man smiling even more. "If they thought he would shit himself they should have had someone along to tend to him."
"Do not worry. This does not anger us. It is, how you say.... Kharma?"
"Oh yeah? Why do you say that? Seems like an okay guy to me."
The man pulls off his sunglasses and rolls them in one hand, "Just between friends here in this auto?"
"Yeah, sure." And here I thought I was the one that might be in trouble.
"Chris was here in the beginning, in Caracas and Maiquetia acting on his father's behalf. Mr. Antonelli Sr. had high hopes for this boy, but he was more interested in the party and the food and the women, and sometimes others. He never use the drugs, but he is very bad drunk."
He looks to me for verification of this. "Hey, I only met the guy a couple of days ago, so I don't really know him. Seen him put a few beers down but that's about it."
The man continues, "Let's just say he gets drinking hard stuff and then he treat everyone like shit. So they want to work for him no more. His father looses a few deliveries due to his negligence and this cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars. A connection to Domincans is almost lost. So father takes over here and sends the boy to Dominican Brothers. He tells them Chris can work on airplane, to put him to work and straighten him up. He went there with his friend and partner Jon. Jon is executed within one month by Dominican Brothers for whatever reason. This straightens up Chris. He is there five years and still alive. So his father is happy you bring him here."
I shrug my shoulders, "So he got a little payback, huh?"
The man slaps the driver on the shoulder and he rattles of a little more with a big smile, "Yes, this is the word... payback. He gets his payback." He points to a small home in this rural area. "We are here."
We pull in and the van follows behind us, pulling up to the front door of the building. One of the men get out of the van and open the front door, calling to someone. A woman steps out and they talk for a moment then head to the back of the van. When the doors open, the woman steps back and then holds her nose. The guy holding the door laughs at her and she pushes him, but then she gets down to business. It takes about five minutes and takes all three of the men to move Antonelli's listless body. Like dressing a walrus. In the end, the woman leaves with a big, shitty garbage bag and a sour look on her face. Chris is dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. It is good he was out of it. All of that movement on those broken ribs and the broken leg would have been too much.

Ten minutes after we leave the house we are on the water in a rather large boat that is taking us to the yacht we can see in the distance. Chris is awake now, groggy, but awake. He looks at his surroundings and I know he doesn't know where he is. He stares at the man that brought us here for a while and then his expression changes.
"Hey... hey Jorge, I remember you." He smiles and runs his hand over his scalp, "yeah, I know you man. How are you?"
Jorge smiles weakly, "I am fine, but how are you?" He points to the cast. "You have broken your leg, eh?"
Antonelli looks down at the cast and sees it for what seems to be the first time, "I'll be damned, I guess I did." He reaches down to touch it and then winces in pain.
"You broke some ribs too, Chris. Just lay back and take it easy." I tell him. "What is the last thing you remember."
You can almost hear the theme song from Final Jeopardy as he thinks.
"I remember flying with you guys. Dropping that cargo, those bombs... " He stops and then it all comes back, "Oh hell no, I got the shit blown out of me from those bombs?"
"Well, not quite. The bombs went off prematurely and you got knocked out of the airplane."
"I fell out of a fucking airplane?"
"Well, not quite. You had a safety belt on, it saved you from hitting the ground, just not from hitting the side of the plane."
Chris shakes his head, "Dude, I don't remember anything past dropping that shit. How long have I been out?"
"That all happened yesterday morning."
"No shit. I feel okay."
"You had been dosing on morphine for the last 24 hours." I point to the Band-aid on his arm where the woman had removed the morphine drip. "You are probably going to be in a world of hurt here in a bit unless you get hooked back up with some pain medication."
"Not to worry, Mr. Chris." Jorge adds, "Your father has stateroom with a nurse at your disposal. And this nurse she has pain medications."

As we get closer to the yacht you can see that this is a huge ship. I'm talking over a hundred feet long... something that needs a crew to run it. Jorge sees me looking and as we are pulling up to the stern of this huge boat, he tells me.
"This is a Westport yacht. Mr. Antonelli has it for sale to buy a bigger boat."
"Bigger than this?"
"Yes. This is one hundred and twelve feet, but it does not have helipad that Mr. Antonelli want for business."
"Oh, well hell... you can't have a ship this size and not have a helipad." I see the name as lines are tossed to awaiting crew and we are drawn closer... KOZANOSTRAW. Oh shit. "Hey, how much is he asking?"
"For this boat he is asking six point five million American dollars." Jorge tells me as we are escorted off the small boat on to the large one.
The crew has a gurney at the ready for Chris, who is helped off the boat and onto the deck.
"Is that my boy Christopher? A man in his Fifties that looks like he had been bred with a brahma bull steps out of the immense salon and goes to grab him in a bear hug.
"DAD.. dad, no I am told I have broken ribs." He tells him just in time. "Everything is starting to hurt. Can I just go and lay down?"
His old man manages a light hug and grabs two handfuls of Chris' face, "It's nice to see you again, boy. Your mother is gonna shit."
"Okay, Dad... hey where can I lie down before I fall down?" He was definately feeling pain now. He turned white as a ghost."
"Hey, easy there, kiddo. Jorge, get that fucking nurse into his room and shoot him up with something."
A few of the crew helped him onto the gurney and he is gone. Now it is just me and Lou, Jorge and Chris' father.
"You must be Lou." He extends a hand to me.
"No, sir, I'm Jake." I turn, "This is Lou."
"Well, Lou, my name is Baretto Antonelli, but you can call me Bear." He grabs Lou's hand and gives it a hardy shake. "I want to thank you for saving my boy."
Lou lifts his RayBans and props them on his forehead. "Sir, it wasn't anything you wouldn't have done yourself."
"Don't be so sure. I am the one that sent him there in the first place." He shakes his head and smiles.

We move into the salon on the ship and it is like the Plaza Hotel in here. All marble tile and crystal chandelier's, leather furniture and plush carpet. We all take a seat on an alcove sofa that is set in front of several picture windows. The scene outside is paradise.
"You guys want a drink?"
Lou nods, "I'll take a whiskey".
Bear looks toward the bar and the attendant gets to work pouring from a Johnny Walker Blue Label bottle. "How do yo take it?"
"Neat."
Bear nods. "How about you, Jake?"
"How about Jack and Coke?" I look toward the attendant, "rocks." He nods.
"You got any kids?" He asks the both of us. I shake my head.
Lou nods, "I got a son about Chris' age."
That's news to me. In all of our conversations thus far, Lou never mentioned even being married.
"Then you know what it takes. I tried 'til I was blue in the face to get that kid to take this shit seriously."
"This shit?" I ask him.
"The family business, you know. But the kid wanted to be a playboy and fuck off all the time. So we start losing money and he's the one, him and his buddy Jon. But they don't care what it takes to build this empire to what it is. So I have to make a decision."
The drinks come and we all take a sip. Bear sits and smiles and an uncomfortable silence follows. I am thinking that he is a little embarassed at spilling all of this when he hardly knows us.
"So, Bear, what decision did you make?" Lou is talking father to father.
"He needed more discipline, you know? That's a big guy in there, and when he is drunk I am thinking I might have to have him capped rather than have him trying to beat my ass in front of my employees. So I send him away, you know? A kind of druglord boot camp. I tell the Dominican Brothers not to hurt him, but to get him to see straight... to get him back on track, you know?"
Lou smiles and nods, killing the whiskey. Before he can ask for another, the attendant is there.
"That goes down smooth," he says. "Bring me a double on the rocks this time, okay?"

When the bartender returns with Lou's drink, we all need refills. The drinks are delivered and we continue where we left off.
"So the Dominican Brothers straightened him out? He seems like an okay guy to me from my dealings with him."
Lou pulls the last Walker out of his beat up cigarette pack, "Do you mind, Bear?"
"Hell no, enjoy yourself." Bear turns to me, "They straightened him right up. I guess the first week the two of them were there old Jon decided he was going to keep a little product for himself. It was only a couple of kilos, but it was out of line, you know? So they capped him right at the breakfast table."
Lou takes a hit off the Walker and passes it to our host, who gladly accepts it and takes a long hit of his own. He passes it to me and lets his hit out, "Hey now, that's what I'm talking about. Those fucking Colombians know how to live... good shit." He smiles and sits back, "That Paulo is a psyco, shot that kid right through the head while he was eating. Then he has his men bring in some of Jon's gear where he had hidden the coke, just so Christopher knew why he was killed."

The Walker makes it's rounds until it is spent. We drink several more rounds while Lou and Bear discuss child rearing. I was a little out of my element, but glad to just sit back and feed my buzz. After a while the conversation dies down and Bear decides it is time to eat.

On the upper deck he has a spread that would make the Dominican Brothers envious. There is every sort of seafood from abalone to lobster tails, octopus and even sea urchin. We even ate blowfish that was prepared by his personal Japanese sushi chef.
"You know if that shit isn't cut right it will kill you instantly." Bear says after we both have a bite. "But I told Agaki over there that he is first. So if he is still standing after his bite, then I take mine."
Agaki smiles, "I no like fish... I no eat this fish since you bring me here. Agaki know blowfish, know not to kill boss man. You no worry."
Bear shrugs, "Well, someone tries it before me. Those were my orders."
Agaki is in the corner shaking his head.

We end up talking about the states, the internet, a little about how big of a pain in the ass the D.E.A. is, and how much it costs to pay off local officials. Lou finds out that Bear was in country when he was and they take off on a "were you there when" exchange that seems to last forever.
I am still munching on lobster meat when a tray of cocaine comes around. Bear waves it off, so Lou and I do the same. When in Rome.

While the two of them relive the Tet Offensive, Jorge takes me on a tour of this floating palace. We tour the main stateroom, the half a dozen other staterooms, one housing Antonelli's snoring form and a sweet little nurse. We tour the engine room, private theater, and the bridge. He tells me this ship is a global traveller and has sailed the seven seas and more. He has a thick accent, Dutch I think. We leave the bridge and Jorge dishes some dirt.
"Captain Pfenning was cruise ship captain before he come to work for Mr. Antonelli."
"Is that right?"
"He get stripped of his job at cruise company becuase he like to drink on the job. Mr. Antonelli tells him he can drink, but boss will feed him to the sharks if he fuck up KOZANOSTRAW."
"No shit." I am hoping he is talking figuratively with the shark thing.
"Boss throw four people to sharks since I work for him."
I am speechless. Jorge sees my expression.
"We are not in grocery store business out here. Boss throws man to sharks, other men don't fuck up. Things work good."

After my tour, I meet up with Bear and Lou on the upper viewing deck. We are under way and headed god knows where. The two of them are smoking cigars and sipping brandy.
"HEY, Jake." Bear talks to me like a long lost friend, "Hey, buddy, have a cigar and some of this Napolean Brandy."
One of his attendants set me up and I puff my cigar to life. "Thanks, Bear. This is one hell of a ship you have here."
"Yeah, she's a good old boat. Need a helipad, though, so I am trading it in next season." He puffs on his cigar, "I have been all over the world on her. Life is good."
"Yeah, I bet." I sip the brandy. I am not a brandy man, but this shit is good. Lou on the other hand loves his cigars and apparently anything that goes with them. He tells me and Bear everything there is to know about the Napolean Brandy except the brand of socks the guy that sells it was wearing. And I thought he was just some crazed sharp shooter that owned a bar in Santa Cruz Hautulco.

There is a comfortable silence that allows the three of us to drink in the scenery of the Venezuelan coast, the blue water, the beautiful ship. We smoke our cigars and enjoy the buzz.
"Hey, boys, how about you be my guests for the evening."
"What about Abby?" I ask.
Bear looks at the two of us, "Who is Abby?"
Lou leans forward in his chair and snubs the last inch of cigar out in the ash tray. "Abby is the plane we flew in on. Your man is there guarding her for us. We have a few thing on board that we want to remain on board."
"Oh hell, that's no problem. I will have another of my men relieve him and they can switch off."
I look at Lou, who I know has no problem with the invitation, "Sounds good. Where are we going?"
"I have something for you boys. A small token of my appreciation."