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?"