Up in the Air

We are still on the rail overlooking the stern of the ship when Jerry walks up.
"You guys just wake up too?"
I look at Lou, then Chris... who shakes his head slightly. Apparently he doesn't want Jerry in on this. But Jerry is my friend and I trust him with my life.

"No... we were in on a private briefing while you were sleeping."
Chris exhales loudly and turns to the rail again, resting his elbows on the polished teak.
"Chris here has a little secret that he doesn't want to share with you." Lou tells him. Lou and Jerry go back far enough that I know Lou won't even do this thing if Jerry isn't included.

Jerry looks at Chris' back for a moment or two, then in true Jerry style he lets it evaporate into the tropic air and changes the subject.
"Now I know you must have a hell of a bar and a dynamite breakfast buffet on this cruise ship."

Chris turns and can't seem to hide the apologetic look in his eyes. After all, Jerry was there for the pirate wars, and saved his ass from those little brown bastards in the jungle.
"My mother, she knows that I only gave the diamonds to these two monkeys. She doesn't know the part you have played in all of this."

Jerry smiles and slaps him on the back, "Hey... Antonelli, no sweat off my sack. Let's eat."

I shake my head and we follow Chris and Jerry back toward the aft salon where brunch is being assembled.
The ship is moving along at a snappy pace. What I thought was just a short cocktail cruise has an obvious destination in mind and the captain is in a hurry to get there.

We dine with Angelica and a couple of Mrs. Antonelli's entourage. We see an endless pour of Coral Mimosa, a twist on the classic using guava juice. Not my regular drink, but I pounded them down to the tune of about six before my omelette was done.
Talk is light and there is no mention of the artifact. It is all so top secret. I really don't know what the fuss is about. The only way I know of that these primative tribes could "soul travel" is with a shitload of peyote or some really pungent weed.

Jerry doesn't seemed too concerned about the secret he hasn't heard yet. I say yet because as soon as we are out of here he is going to hear all about it.
"So what is the plan, boys?"

Chris looks at the two of us from the other side of the table. The corner of Lou's mouth ticks. He turns to Jerry.
"I say we blow this rowboat and head up to the Sea of Cortez and get Naomi." He tosses down the double scotch that one of the bar servers just brought him. "Think Abigail is up for the trip?"

Before Jerry can answer Chris overrides him.
"I thought we were taking the G4 up there? No?"

Lou smiles, the scotch slapping the asses of the naked girls in his head. "You did, huh?"
Chris is at a loss for words. I rescue him.

"If we want to make good time up there and have some time to play, we should take the fastest form of conveyance."
"P.P.P.p.P.... " Lou mocks me.
"You're getting a little loosely wrapped, Louis."
He flips me off.
I turn to Jerry, "Want to take a ride on a G4 with us?" I look at Chris and offer no quarter. If he wants us along on this adventure then Jerry is going if he wants.

I really don't think Chris cares if Jerry knows or not. I think he is being guarded because Angelica is dining with us.

"Yeah, Jerry, come along. It'll be fun. We'll be up and back in no time. You can leave Abigail here in Puerto Barrios for a while, can't you?"

"Youshure sound like anass kisser allofasudden." Lou must have been shooting those doubles like pheasant on opening day because I have not seen him this drunk when I haven't been. Hmmm, might be on the way myself.

We scoop up Lou and move up to one of the upper decks to smoke a cigar. Lou passes out in his lounger and me, Jerry, and Chris spark up some coal black cigar that tastes a little illegal.

"What is this?" I hold the cigar up and try to read the band, but it isn't in english.
"It is something my father had some guys working on. It is a hybrid of the finest tobacco and some kind of cannabis. It all grows together. Isn't even illegal until the Food and Drug Administration identifies it in the next few years."

"Like a really nice blunt."

"No shit."

We spend the next half an hour watching the horizon. Chris fills us in on Ollie, his condition worsened and they have to keep him a little longer. Chris will have him flown out the ship for his recovery. I don't think that Ollie will ever want for anything again as long as he lives.

Within the hour the ship decreases speed and a mast appears on the horizon. As we close on its position a familiar craft materializes beneath it. It is the Morgan and Blanco is at the helm. Sails are down. There is an auxiliary manuevering thruster hanging off the back. I can only assume it is there to keep the boat in position. There is no anchoring out here.

Our captain slows the ship and we hold position alongside the Morgan. The four of us make our way down to the fantail as the deck crew tie the boat to the Caribbear's cleats. Once Blanco sees us he smiles wide. Lou climbs aboard first.
"Hey Whitey! How are you man?"

That is the last thing I understand for several minutes, both Lou and Blanco talking in mother tongue. As Blanco talks to Lou he shakes hands with the rest of us. He is extremely happy to see us and is ready to abandon his post for a couple of cold ones onboard Caribbear.

We don't notice the divers in the water, or the two members of "the team" until the robotic submersible comes up. One of the men emerges from the cabin and heads forward. He lays down on the deck and reaches over the side. By this time his associate is next to him with what looks like a canvas sail bag. The item is brought up over the side of the Morgan and stashed inside the bag before we can even see what it is.

Lou gives Whitey preferred boarding and we follow them onto the aft deck of the Caribbear. I turn and watch the team as they hustle off of the boat and bring their treasure in through the doors of the aft salon and then they disappear down the passageway that will take them down into the bowels of the ship.

I look at Chris, and without a word shared between us I know that that is the Clarok that they brought up from the bottom. A sense of nostalgia sweeps over me as I realize that we are directly over the KOZANOSTRA. I have been in this particular stretch of sea before. I reach up to the scar on my ear. I look at Lou and Jerry, both shot to hell in that battle.

We end up in the upper lounge. There is a long bar made from the wood of a sunken ship, "Adventure", we are told. The ship had been taken by the Queen Anne's Revenge and made part of Blackbeard's flotilla. The ship was thought to have sunk off of North Carolina, but this wreckage was found on a small Key much farther south.

Once Blackbeard was captured, the remaining ships of the flotilla tried to outrun justice. The "Adventure" went down in the Bahama Keys, the crew getting her close enough to shore to make their escape to the deserted island.
While they awaited rescue, ten months away, they salvaged what they could from the ship, included what ever building materials they could pry from her decks. This bar had originally been fashioned into a long table for the survivors to eat their meagor rations. Out of the ten who survived the sinking, only three survived the island. Six of the men had carved their names into the wood at one time or another. Those names are nothing but a dark blur beneath one inch of clear resin. But the story was cool enough.

A young lady behind the bar begins to serve us. Lou is drawn to her like a scotch stunned moth to a red haired flame. He and Blanco sip scotch and smoke cigars. Not a word is spoken by any of us for nearly ten minutes. We are tired and overloaded. I mean, I am all for helping out a friend, but I am feeling a bit used at this point. All of us have fought a long, hard battle and now we just want to get back to the slow and easy days of running drugs and guns in Abigail, dozing in the hammocks, eating marinated pork from the village store. The thought of this never-ending adventure turning yet another page is too much.

"So... Rocky Point?" Jerry tosses back a shot of Corazon tequila and smiles.
"Pretty good for commercial stuff."

Chris perks up at the mention of this whole thing moving forward.
"Yep, Rocky Point. We are going to take my jet up there and then fly back in Naomi."

"Nosso fassed, Auntie Nellie." Lou slurs into his empty tumbler of single malt. "We haven't said we're gonna do this thing."

"What, go to get Naomi?" Jerry is a bit confused.
"No, goddamnit, go "Soul Traveling" with Nellie's salad bowl." Lou looks at him matter of factly.

"Great." Chris shakes his head slowly.

Jerry smiles at Lou, "You are fucked up with a capitol fuck, you know that?"
Lou nods and lets out a flammable belch. The little red head behind the bar giggles.
She pours more tequila for Jerry, and another two three fingers of scotch for Blanco.

"I'm game for a flight on that speed demon jet of yours." Jerry raises his newly filled shot in a quick toast and tosses it back.

"Great." Chris picks up a white phone at the end of the bar and calls the bridge. After a brief conversation he hangs up. "Captain says we should be back in the bay within the hour." He looks at Blanco, "We have your Morgan in tow."

"Is okay, Mr. Nellie." It comes out in that thick accent and then he cracks up. Lou spits his scotch onto the bar.

So... off to the Sea of Cortez and Rocky Point. This is fine with me. As for the rest of this "plan" I am up in the air. Even though it sounds incredible and outlandish, I can't help but wonder if there is something to it. One thing for sure... we are tired and thirty days is not much of a rest.