No Rest for the Wicked

I stand and look at the message for a moment or two, not quite sure what to make of it.
"What does it say, Jake?" Lou waves a finger toward it.
"It... it's from my cousin Mitch. There has been some kind of trouble up where they live."
We all stand there for a moment, them waiting for me to tell them where they live, and me not wanting to talk about it.
"Where do they live, Jake?
"Modoc."
Lou tosses back one of the cold beer and manages to open his throat and pour it down his gullet in one motion. He throws the empty back into the box and lets out a five second belch that can be heard all the way to Costa Rica.
"Never heard of it." He adds.

I fold the message up and stuff it in the pocket of my shorts. "Modoc county, it is in Northern California... eastern side." I grab a cold beer from Jerry as he hands out a round. Justin waves his off. Not a beer drinker... yeah, he fits in.
"My cousin Mitch and a buddy are farmers of sorts up there in the woods. Apparently there has been some trouble, either with the cops or worse yet with some buyers. "
"What do they farm?" Justin seems to have a little farming knowledge from the way he asked the question. "Corn? Wheat? Soy Beans?"
"Cannabis."
"Oh." He turns and walks to the end of the building with his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his pants.
"So your cousin grows pot for a living?" Jerry twists the cap off his beer and gets a good dousing of foam. "You never told me that before."
"For about fifteen years now. That whole area is populated with growers." I take a chug off my beer and savor the flavor. "Usually the cops leave them alone. They know what they are doing, but they also know that a lot of the people growing are putting money into the community... and into official pockets as well."
"Payola."
"Yep."
"So what's the message."
"Help me. They are going to kill us."

The ride back to El Corazon was silent, save the sound of the Land Cruiser bouncing through the ruts and washes in the jungle. There was more to the message, of course, but not much more. There were four sets of numbers, a date and time. It looks as though the message was sent in great haste, or they were forced to keep it short and sweet. The numbers were probably mixed in with the trailing identification of the message; the handler that relayed it, or several as is the case here, the time the original message was sent, and any response time frame. This particular message was sent over a short wave and in Morse Code, then decoded down the line for easier handling before it ended up at the store on the radio set.
"These numbers are map coordinates."
The Cruiser bounces over a root and half of Jerry's beer leaves the bottle and rains down on the both of us.
"Nice." I wipe the message off on my shorts and make sure the ink didn't run.
"Here, let me hold that for you." I reach for his beer, which hands me.
"Thanks." I drink whats left and throw the empty in to the jungle. Lou laughs in Jerry's ear and then slaps the hostage on the back.
"Did you see that shit... you're a riot, man."
Jerry puts both hands on the wheel. "You're a bastard, Jake."

We get back to El Corazon with the marinated pork and the beer... and this damn message. Up in the game room I sit at the bar that Jerry had taken out of an abandon building near the coast. It is nicely carved around the edges, hardwood... probably teak. But it is just the top, about four inches thick, set on some fifty-five gallon drums we had in the shop.
I sit and stair at the paper... turning my full, unopened beer in my hand. Lou is already fucked up and is staring at the side of my head.
"Knock it off."
"You got a pretty... "
I turn and give him a no nonsense SHUT THE FUCK UP look.
"Hey... I ain't never seen you like this, Jake. What's the deal? What are we gonna do?"
"Its my cousin, Lou, and I don't have too much family left. You know?"
Lou takes the paper and reads it again, this time with one eye shut and the other as wide open as it would go.
"By the looks of this, they are gonna kill 'em."
"No shit." I snatch the paper back. "This date here, at the bottom... that is when it was originally relayed." I look at it closely one more time. "Three days ago. They could be dead by now."
Jerry leans on the bar.
"Your cousin knows you are down here, right? It's not like you check your messages on an answering machine or something. No... this message wasn't sent expecting a response immediately. Whoever sent this message understood that you might not see it right away, at least your cousin knows that. So I don't think the "they'll kill us" part is immediate. I think it is if you don't get up here and help me however it is I need help, then they will kill us."
Jerry steps up from behind the bar and turns the message so he can re-read it. "That's what I think."

I look at Jerry, then at Lou.
"I have to go."
Jerry nods, "Yep... looks that way."
Lou perks up, "Go where?"
"Modoc."
"Never heard of it."

The hostage is over in the corner in front of the old pinball machine that Jerry traded a couple runs for and is digging in his pants for change.
"Hey, that won't work unless we start the generator." I tell him. He looks at Jerry with hope in his eyes.
"Not a chance."
Jerry turns back to me. "We can fly over to the coast and fuel up and then... "
"They what, Jerry? You have been shot in both arms, man, you can't fly anywhere. You try it and you're gonna cripple yourself."
"Where we goin? Lou picks up his empty and looks at the bottom of it, then holds it up for Jerry's inspection. Jerry pops the cap on a new one and puts it in front of him.
"So what? You and this sloppy fucker are going?"
I look at Lou, "I am, anyway."
Lou seems offended. "You need Naomi... take 'er."
"He can't do it alone." Jerry pulls Lou's beer back away from him and chugs half of it.
"HEY... I've broken bug-eaters' necks for less than that."
"Did you hear Jake? He needs to fly up toward the states and he can't go it alone and get there in time. You've got to hot-seat it with him. I can't go."
"Go where?"
I look at him, then Jerry. "I have to get the plane ready. And here I thought I was in for a little rest and relaxation."

I spend the next hour checking over Naomi. Jerry heads into town on a quick supply run for my flight. When he comes back he has the usual flight supplies we take on long runs, and twelve little bottles of Guarana root and a case of Coke.
"Let me take a couple of these up to your Co pilot in the lounge. He should be down here in about fifteen minutes."

The first thing Lou does is throw up the bitter Guarana, drinking it on a dare without the Coke. Then he stops fucking around and drinks the mix, and then another. He is down at the plane in the fifteen minutes.
"Your little buddy wants a ride." Lou tells me as he tosses a duffle into Naomi's hatch.
I am on my back with a flashlight checking under the dash for any surprises.
"I don't have time to play city bus driver on this one."
"That won't be a problem." Justin says, his head poking in the hatch behind Lou.
I straighten up and wriggle out from between the seats into the main cabin.
"I don't know what or where or how."
"That's okay, man, I just need to get back to the states. You're heading that direction at least, aren't you?"
I nod.
"Looks like you have room."
I nod again.
"Okay?"
"I guess so. I have a lot on my mind... okay, so I may need some quiet time while we are flying to work this shit out."
"Check and double check."

We have Naomi ready and engines turning within the next half hour. We took hefty amount of cash from our stash in the gun locker. Before we get too far North I want to find a couple of pistols. In the past several weeks I have grown accustom to the feeling of that steel tucked in my belt. Situations feel a little less threatening.
Jerry brings me a chart with a couple of fuel stops that he knows are safe, then it gets too far North and the information gets sketchy.
"If you go toward the coast and run that line, you are probably going to find more civilization, resort towns and that type of shit. You should be able to find a few friendly airstrips."
He hands me a logbook.
"Our frequency for the radio at the store and a couple in there for relay points along the way. You tell me what's going on. I don't want to hear anything second hand, if you know what I mean."
"I will check in, mother."
"You can piss off and die as far as that goes. You gotta come back, dude. You owe me like twenty grand for dice tourney wins."
I smile and shake his hand.

The hostage is the last in the plane and he latches the door. Jerry pulls chocks and give me a wave and a quick salute. I run her out of the gate and make the turn onto the dirt strip.
"Well, Lou, here we go again."
Lou gives me a wink. "Let's go save your cousin."

I put the throttles to the stops and Naomi takes to the air after a third of the strip disappears beneath us. We are up, and I circle around El Corazon, dropping down for a fly-by that I know Jerry is cheering as we shoot passed the compound. I pull up and we climb to two thousand feet and get our bearing.

The day has been a blur. Our departure is quick, but ill-planned. The planning will happen between here and the border. No passports, no identification of any kind, a hostage that we really know nothing about, a kidnapped cousin with a death threat, and a rescue that will need to be planned if and when all the rest of this shit works itself out.
I have a headache.
Justin pokes his head up between the seats, "Um, guys... where's the bathroom on this thing."
Lou smiles and pulls a Walker out from behind his ear. "Are we there yet?"

An Unexpected Message

Nester's wife Consuela and little baby Rikki

The ride over to Nester's is refreshing, but hard on the ass. Sitting on that steel bed and taking every rut in the jungle to get to the village is a little too much for me. I get up and stand, holding on to the steel bed wall just behind the cab of the truck. In the space of five minutes I had drank two cold beers to replace the gallon of sweat I had lost since we got home. I actually feel a little buzz off of the deal.

Lou joins me, leaving our hostage sitting alone, his feet dangling off of the bed. We almost lose him once when we jump across a wash in the black of the jungle, but he is launched about three fee up and lands just about in the same spot. It isn't long before he too is scrambling toward the front of the truck bed and gets to his feet.
"This road is really rough, huh?"
I look at Lou, "Road?"
"City folk." Lou winks.
Justin grabs on to the top rail of the bed wall, "This is better." He takes a bug hit and falls back. When he looks at us again one whole lens of his glasses is yellow and has legs. He peels the glasses off and wipes the side of his face with that arm, holding on for dear life to the divider as we jet through the triple terrace jungle.
We burst into a clearing and the headlights reach into the distance to look for dogs, goats, cows, and the occasional wild cat that is tired of working for its food. Nester takes a hard left and we can hear he and Jerry laughing as we bounce and slide. I think they get the wheels off the ground on that one. We run along the back road that skirts the village of Nogales and head toward the waterfall and Nester's house.
As we approach the house, the smell of Consuela's cooking mingles with the truck exhaust. The air is wet and heavy, but cool and I am grateful. The truck lurches to a stop and is shut down. Jerry's door creaks loudly as he gets out of the passenger side, joined by Nester who's door is tied shut with rope. They start inside.

I drop off the bed of the truck and feel my age. Lou, on the other hand, jumps down like he is dismounting a pommel horse in the Summer Olympics.
"Oh... man, does that smell good." He feels in his shirt pocket, then looks inside it... trying to aim his pocket toward the torches that stand on each side of the walkway to Nester's front door. He apparently sees what he wants to see.
I am sure it is a Walker inventory. He looks up at the hostage.
"Come on, Junior, suppers waitin'."
Justin first sits down on the truck bed, then scoots his ass off and drops the twelve inches to the ground. He is still holding the glasses with the bug glue covering the entire lens. His face was smeared with the same disgusting goo. I look at him a gesture at the path and Lou who has already started inside.
"Let's get you cleaned up."

Inside Consuela hugs each of us, rattling on about something in mother-tongue. She stops and looks at the hostage until Lou introduces him, adding something that makes her snicker.
She takes his hand, the one that is not holding glue covered glasses, and ushers him to the sink. She grabs a teapot that is steaming on the stove top and pours some of the water into a basin a then turns the tap on to add some cold to the mix. She mothers him for a moment or two, taking his glasses and and working the bug guts off of them.
"Geez... that guy has to go." Lou grabs a beer out of a top load cooler and hands it to me, grabbing one for himself. Jerry and Nester are already out on the deck, beer in hand, waiting for us.
I look back at Justin. Consuela is now dipping the corner of a towel in the warm water, one hand under his chin holding his face, the other dabbing the wet corner at the goo covered side of his face. Just like she was cleaning up a six year old.
"Okay." I say outloud, turning to the patio as I follow Lou outside.

The evening winds into early morning, the four of us, Nester and his wife, a few of his kids and crew chowing down on tamales and guzzling down Tecate dark beer. By the time we are done eating and the food is cleared away, the best we can do is move our heads and the hand that passes the Walker around.
I look up at the stars, absolutely beautiful in their pinpoint brilliance out here away from civilization. The cool mist of the waterfall, the ever-thundering deluge drones on... filling the audio backdrop, displacing the jungle noise we hear back at El Corazon.
"So, what are we doing tomorrow?"
Justin's inquiry is like a stick in the spokes as this fine evening rolls on.
Lou looks at him, but is now too full and too stoned to jump him for it.
"We don't care about tomorrow, Justin." I offer.
"I... I thought we were flying to Haultulco."
"That is a fact. At some point we are. But no tomorrow, and maybe not next week."
Jerry sits up and puts his hands on his knees.
"You know, there is a bus that makes a run twice a month to that area. We will have to drive you out to it, about fifteen miles, but it will get you where you want to go."
There is silence as the hostage digests that statement. I think he feels a bit put-off at this dismissal.
"Well, I am in no hurry, I guess."
"I will take you out there tomorrow." Lou says from behind closed eyes.
"To Hautulco?"
"No, the bus stop."

For the first time in weeks I wake up in my own hammock, opening my eyes and taking in the room. Jerry is asleep in his hammock across the room. I swing my feet out and drop to the floor.
“Wake up, you old hippie.” I give Jerry’s hammock a kick in the low end.

The aroma of Costa Rican coffee gets everyone’s eyes open and their feet walking. I take my cup and walk down to the planes. It must be eighty degrees already and I dream of that coastal Caribbean breeze. There is a monkey playing with two oil cans it must have pulled out of the garbage. When it sees me it launches on of the cans my way, splattering me with the remains in the bottom of the can.
“You motherfucker… HEY… Get OUT of here.” I yell and kick the oil can his way. He scrambles into the edge of the jungle, then stops and chatters at me.

I take a sip of my coffee and walk slowly around Abigail. There are a few things I need to get done before we take to the air on any cargo runs.
“Hey.” Lou steps up beside me near the tail.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
He hands me his coffee cup. I hold it while he stretches, then hand it back.
“What’s on for today?” He takes a draw off the bean.
“Hell, I don’t know. We have a few things to do to Abby here. We should take a good look at Naomi as well.”
As we stand there Jerry walks up. He has a beer in one hand and half a cup of coffee in the other.
“There’s a message for you in town.”
“What?”
“A message… in town… for you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because someone left a message here that there was a message in town.”
“But why… “
“Don’t.” He drinks what’s left of his coffee, sets the empty cup on the ground, and then cracks the beer. “You know these people don’t think that far.” A quick up ending of the beer and half of it is gone.

We roust the hostage from the hammock in Abigail and drag him with us in the back of the Land Cruiser. Half way to town, Lou lights up a Walker and he is the only one to partake. I take a draw off of Jerry’s beer, hoping there are more in town. We bounce into the outskirts of Nogales and head up the dirt road toward the little store.

The store is already in motion, three of the town elders are setting out the open market items that draw trade from the people of two neighboring villages. When they see us pull up one of them steps inside and comes back out with a sheet torn from a legal pad. The yellow piece of paper is handed to Jerry and he looks at it.
“Time and frequency.” He looks at his watch. “We have about twenty minutes.”

We find some marinated pork in the ice box, along with a twelve pack with one missing. The rest of the beer is at room temperature… eighty some odd degrees at this point. We crack the cold beers and put together a little shopping list.

“It’s time.” Jerry turns on the two-way radio and tunes to the frequency on the paper. With a couple of hails on the microphone he gets a response. There is so much static on the line that he puts on headphones and then asks the person to repeat the message.
“Repeat that please.”
He checks what he has written down, then thanks the messenger.
“It’s for you, Jake.”

We Shall Return

The night rolled on. One by one our party thinned until it was just the three of us, Blanco, Justin and Princess. Loco had to leave a little earlier to make it home to the wife and kids. He left his car and made the trek home on foot. According to Blanco it is only a mile or so up the coast and opposite the beach from the highway.

Justin is a little more animated now, Princess moving closer, whispering in his ear. He smiles as she sticks her tequila soaked tongue in his ear. I can’t imagine how fucked up you would have to be to go with a girl like Princess. We will get our answer in the morning. She stands and takes his hand, almost yanking him to his feet. With an arm around his waist she leads him away.

The four of us head for the Morgan and the comfort of our beds for a long deserved sleep. No more beer, tequila, smoke, food, talk, just sleep. We get on board and not a word is spoken. I am out when my head hits the pillow.

It is morning, I think. The heat wakes me up and I look across to see that Lou is already up. Jerry is still crashed out, twisted up in his bunk. I can smell coffee and long for the sea breeze. It must be eight degrees. I get up on deck and stretch.
“Well, that didn’t work.” Lou hands me a cup of coffee.
“What?”
“That ten hours of beauty sleep you just had, you ugly fuck.”
I look at Blanco, “What time is it?” I tap on my wrist.
Blanco holds up two fingers.
“Two o’clock?”
He nods.
“Holy shit… I was out, huh?” I look at Lou, “When did you get up?”
“Just ten minutes ago. I woke you up, pussy… don’t you remember?”
I unconsciously rug my arm. Lou smiles.
“You shitbag.”
“We need to get out of here, you know?”
I nod, “Get Jerry up and we can be wheels up in an hour or so.”

In ten minutes time, Jerry is drinking his coffee and we are discussing our plans.
“I have to take a quick ride up the road. Nester was supposed to get Abigail loaded with his equipment the night we landed. Then he told me that he needed to visit with a cousin… or uncle or someone like that. When I was ready to leave town I am supposed to come and get him."
“No shit.” I look at him, squinting out the sunlight, “Does he even know what happened to you?”
“Probably not. Everything was normal when we went our separate ways.” He takes a gulp of coffee, “He will get a kick out of it.”

Lou is already drinking beer.
“You know that the hostage wants a ride.” He takes a sip, not a gulp. I think he damaged something last night and has to re-train himself to drink.
“This is the first time I have heard. Where does he want to go?”
“With us to El Corazon. Says he has connections on the coast and that he can get home from Huatulco.” Lou takes a big swallow and looks like he hurts himself.
I look at Jerry, “What do you think?”
“Hell, I don’t know. He looks harmless. How is he going to get to Huatulco. He expecting us to fly him there?”
“I can take him, I suppose.” Lou tries to chug his beer and is successful. Then he gets into a choking fit and loses half of it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“He won’t cause any problems. I have to go back to the bar and get my stuff. I have a few things there that I’m not willing to leave behind.”

Loco meets us with the car and within ten minutes we are waiting in front of an immense resort as Jerry talks to the gate guard. A phone call is made, and within a minute or two we see Nester walking up the drive.

In the time it takes to get to the airfield, we have relayed the story of the killings,pursuit, and pirate battles. After hearing how we sunk the other boat with a couple of shoulder fired missles, Nester shakes his head in disbelief. He tells Jerry that he doesn’t know how we get into so much trouble.
We say our goodbyes to Loco,vowing to return. He drives off in a clowd of oil smoke and we are left standing in front of the planes. Abigail has been washed and serviced. Her hold is stuffed with mining equipement. Both planes are topped off and we settle our bill with the FBO. It is decided that Jerry will fly with Lou on the trip home. Me and Nester will fly in Abigail. The hostage is all but forgotten until Nester and I are in the cockpit and I am doing my final checklist. I can hear Naomi’s engines fire up and run to idle.
“HELLO?"
With Lou’s engines idling the voice almost goes unheard.
“HEY."
I turn and see Justin with a duffel slung over his shoulder leaning in the cargo door. I wave him in. He slings his bag into the bay and hops on board, climbing his way to the cockpit.
“I wouldn’t leave your bag there, you’ll lose it. Put it up here behind the cargo nets.”
He grabs the bag and stows it, then climbs toward the first officer’s seat.
“I thought you might have left without me.” He reaches out and gives the wheel a little shake. He jumps slightly at the sight of Nester.
“Oh… I, I thought I was sitting up here. Who is this?”
“Nester Olitas, meet Justin… Zitpin?”
“Zilgen… like the cymbals but spelled differently.”
Like I am supposed to know about cymbols.
“Well,” I point to the hammock hanging from one point on the port bulkhead, “String that hammock over to that hook on the starboard side and take a seat.”
He mills about for a moment and then stretches the hammock out to the other side and hooks it. With a little difficulty he positions himself in it so he is looking between us and out through the windscreen. He reaches up and pushes the cargo ready button. The green light illuminates on my display. This guy is trouble.
“Hey, don’t touch anything.”
He pulls his hands back and sets them in his lap.

Lou throttles up and then is moving, taxiing around me and out toward the runway. I turn the radio on and can hear Jerry hailing me.
“Come on, turn on your radio.”
“Its on, its on. I’m right behind you.”

I fire Abby’s number two and get her to idle before starting the other engine.
“I see our hostage made it.”
Justin reaches out between the seats for the microphone, I give it to him and release the brakes.
“My name…” He fiddles with the button, “My name is Justin.”
He hands the microphone back to me. I throttle up first and then take it quickly.
“Hey,” I yell into the microphone, “Shut the fuck up. I am trying to take off here.” I hand it back to him.

I watch Lou power up and make his run. Once he is up, I make the turn and then straighten her up. I lock the tail wheel and push both throttles to the stops. We lurch forward and in ten seconds or so the tail is up, then we leave the ground. I draw a bead on the little speck of Naomi in the blue sky out of my side window and bank to follow her.

I bring the gear up, adjust my cowls, and return the flaps to full up and continue climbing. Justin is yammering on about something. I think I hear him mention Princess a couple of times. What I am really hoping is that he is as hungover as I am and will realize that silence feels better than talking and listening. Nester looks my way and rolls his eyes. I think he is glad he doesn’t understand English all that well and knows he won’t be party to any long discussions.

An uneventful flight with no fuel stop takes us all the way to El Corazon. Luckily the days have been long and the light lingers a bit after sunset.
We make a pass over the strip to check it out. Once in a while one of the town’s folk will leave their cows or goats to graze and they wander over to the compound. A low fly-by usually chases them away. Tonight there is nothing but the dirt strip and a dark compound. Jerry had rigged a solar powered light… sort of a porch light that stayed on all night unless we turned it off. It is usually on and visible, but not tonight.

Justin had apparently been up all night trying to satisfy his date. This was a good thing. He fell asleep shortly after we reached altitude and just bolted awake when I banked over the compound.
“What… what is happening?” He straights up and strains in his hammock to look out his window.
“Relax, we’re home. Just making a quick inspection.

As we bank I can see Naomi touch down, sweet and neat, just like the first homecoming. Lou’s landing light sweeps across the compound as he motors in. I make my run to the end of the pattern and then bank again and drop the gear. Three good indications draw a quick nod from me. There is a string of questions coming from the hammock behind me, but I ignore the noise, concentrating on my angle of attack and my flap position. Nester says nothing, but looks out the side window at the jungle as it looms closer. I touch down rather hard and bounce just a little. The cargo isn’t loaded right, and I should have checked it out a little more before we left Puerto Barrios. But who cares at this point.

“Are we okay?” Justin has a death grip on one of the tie downs on the bulkhead in front of him.

“We’re fine.” I pull the throttles back and the tail drops. As we scoot down the strip I apply the brakes and she slows quickly. We pass the marker that Jerry erected and I unlock the tail wheel and we turn in through the wide open gates of the compound. I can see Naomi parked over by the hanger, so I just get her inside the gates and spin her around.

When I cut the engines the familiar sound of the jungle fills the air. It is sweltering here without the cooling breeze of the Caribbean we have had for the past several days. Before I get out of Abby I am running with sweat. It is after nine o’clock and we are all starving.
Nester gathers us around and tells us that Consuela makes a big meal tonight. Today is the day she makes tamales and that there are enough for a whole village if they had been invited.
“Oh hell yes.” I turn to Lou, “You haven’t tasted food until you have had some of Consuela’s tamales. That and her rice, awesome shit, man.”
Lou just looks back with his jaw agape, “I could eat the asshole out of a water buffalo.”
Justin looks at him, “You… you have done that?”
Lou slaps him on the back, “Hey… I want to invite you to a little party after dinner.”
“A party?”
“Yep. There’s gonna be a lot of drinking, fucking, and fighting.”
Justin twitched a slight smile, “Who’s invited?”
“Just you and me, kid.”

With that Justin moved away rather quickly and walked on the other side of Jerry.
“Why do you have to scare the kid?” I ask him as we walk toward Nester’s flat bed truck.
“He ain’t scared. But the night is young.”