by J. L. Curtis
“No guns! Don’t shoot in here, it will blow us all to hell!”
Somebody turned a flashlight on and swept it over the interior as John backed toward the entrance. “I’m going to start the generator. We need to see what’s what in here.” As he ran over to the generator, he glanced over to see Fernando with a knife at the throat of the guy he’d thrown out the entrance. He got it started again and heard the fan start back up, then walked over to Fernando. “Any good information, Rojo?”
“Enough. And he has it all written down in a green book inside.”
The others herded the remaining people out, who sat on the ground as directed, while Fernando followed the chemist back to his area and picked up the notebook. Fernando came out with the book as he sheathed his knife. “This we need, him we do not.”
Felix came up. “All these folks are kidnapped workers from the towns and villages around here. There is a house down the hill that is where the drugs are stored, along with the chemicals and diesel. They make the workers carry the shit up and down by themselves. Those six were the enforcers. I’d say let them go home.”
“Will they talk?”
Felix shook his head. “No. They will disappear into the woodwork. They know if they talk they will die.”
John looked at his watch and cussed, “Dammit, it’s not even eight yet. I don’t know if we can get an extract on this short a notice. Ah hell, rig the cave. Put it on a… two hour timer. That should give us time to get over the hill, and I don’t think any of these people can get to anyone that can respond in time.
Two hours later, the cave and part of the hill above it disappeared in a cloud of fire and dust as a Policia Nacional helicopter landed on the road on the other side of the ridge.
Debrief and Back to the Grind
Mason and a Coronel de la Policia met them at the hangar when they landed. The coronel stood with arms crossed as they walked into the hangar door, nodding but not saying a word. When John finally came off the helo, Mason walked to meet him. “What the fuck, John? El Coronel is pissed! They wanted to take this lab for a show of power!”
John shrugged. “Shit happens. We got made. There is a house and storage barn that was probably their base, if you want to call it that, just down the hill from the lab. We couldn’t get close due to dogs, but I didn’t see anyone moving around. They were humping everything up to the lab in five gallon cans, so I’m betting that place is the storage. If they get there quick enough, they can salvage the op and probably get a load of drugs.”
“How the hell did you…never mind. Let’s go get this over with. It ain’t gonna be pretty.” They turned and walked toward the hangar, by themselves, as everyone else had disappeared inside. Mason opened the door and he and John walked in to see Pasquale and Fernando had backed the coronel into a corner as Felix and Hector watched from a short distance away.
Mason and John started toward them, but Hector held up a hand. “A moment, Señores. Pasquale and Fernando are a bit perturbed with the local law enforcement. And they are both good Catholics. They do not hold with rape or mistreatment of chicas jovines.”
Mason goggled at him. “Just how did you get—”
The coronel was shrugging and nodding, smiled and clapped Pasquale and Hector on their shoulders, then headed for the hangar door. “Señors, I must go. I am satisfied that you did what you could after you were detected to minimize the damage. I am going to personally lead the raid on the outlying farm. Señor Mason, I would appreciate a written after action report when you have time.”
Mason nodded dumbly and turned to John. “Uh, John you want to explain in small words what went on? El Coronel was damn near frothing at the mouth before these two, pointing to Pasquale and Fernando, “said whatever they did to him.”
John replied, “I’ll let them explain. They are both good Catholics, and I’m not saying that as an excuse.”
An hour later, Mason sat back shaking his head. “Un-frikken-believable. So, you got everybody out, and let the slaves, for lack of a better term, go. And threw the other bodies back in the cave before you blew it up.”
John nodded. “In a nutshell, that’s exactly what happened. They’d been grabbing people from the local towns, Boquerón, Melgar, and Tolemaida. Especially young girls, and I’m talking thirteen, maybe fourteen, as Pasquale said.”
“That is…just wrong. I can’t say that I blame him, considering my daughter is twelve.” They turned to watch the Aero Commander land. “And here’s your ride home. It’ll take them about a half hour to turn around.”
“That works. We’ll sleep on the way back and figure out a way to sneak the rest of the team off the airport when we get there.”
***
Sargento Gonzales, the Policia Nacional sergeant in charge of the local office at Melgar, stepped carefully around the body they had located a hundred yards below the site of the former cave. Kneeling down, he patted the pockets of the body quickly, looking for any identification and more especially for anything that might have his name on it. Enrique, what did you do? Who did you cross to get your throat cut? How am I going to explain this! You managed to get killed and the laboratory blown up under my nose! What is this? He pulled a playing card out of the front pocket of the shirt and stared at it. El Lobo Blanco? I never heard of them. And why, Enrique, why do you have this joker in your pocket?
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the coronel, who looked down at the body asking, “Recognize him, Sargento? What is that in your hand?”
The sargento handed over the card. “No, mi Coronel. And he has no papers, other than this playing card in his pocket.” He got up, spit on the body, and kicked it. “Bastardo making drugs hidden away up here. I will question my people to find out why this was missed. We should have seen outsiders and recognized them for such. Disculpas, mi Coronel.”
The coronel nodded. “And you should apologize, Sergento. If we have to come back up here, it will not go well. I will be talking to the Capitán from Boquerón as soon as he gets here. Maybe it is time to rotate some new personnel into this area.” He smiled grimly, “But we did get one hundred kilos of cocaine from the rancho, so this is a good day for the Policia Nacional!”
Gonzales managed to paste a smile on his face before he turned. “Si, mi Coronel. A great day!”
Four hours later, Sergento Gonzales watched the Policia Nacional helicopter lift the generator off the hill and fly back toward Bogotá. He looked around at the detritus of the explosion and collapse of the cave, kicked the dirt, and started back down the hill to his police truck. How am I going to explain this? I have to call…I should have already called. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of how the cartel was going to take this. I don’t have enough money to run. And I have no idea what happened. He spat again, and mumbled, “How? What happened, how did El Coronel know before we did? Aieee, who is to blame? Who is passing out Lobo Blanco jokers?”
An hour later, he stood at the pay phone outside the market in Tolemaida in civilian clothes and dialed the phone number for his contact. When it answered he whispered, “Hola, this is Pequeño. There has been an accident.” Five minutes later, he was shaking in terror, sweating like a pig, and needed to go to the bathroom as he explained what had happened to his contact’s boss. After another minute, he was told to go home and wait for further contact. He said, “Si.” And realized he was talking to a dial tone. He hung up the phone after wiping it down with his sweat stained handkerchief, turned blindly back to his car, and drove back to the small house he lived in next door to the police station.
***
In Quito at 9 pm, John and Menendez walked in the back door of the team’s warehouse. Hector asked, “Anybody see you?”
“No. We were dropped off in front of the bar two blocks over. Are we ready?”
“Just waiting on you for the final brief, John.”
He and Menendez walked into the conference room, and Felix handed them gray coveralls. Menendez asked, “What’s this for?
”
“Makes it a little harder to see you.”
“It’s dark, if we’re doing this, why not black?”
John laughed. “Black is actually fairly easy to pick out, even at night. Gray just…blurs into the background.” He checked the De Lisle sitting in the corner and said, “Thanks for cleaning it. What do you want to carry?” He motioned to the AKs sitting along the wall and Menendez went over and perused them.
He picked up one, checked it, and nodded to himself. “I’ll take this one. How many mags are we taking?”
Felix replied, “Most of us carry three.” He pulled out a chest carrier from the cabinet and passed it across to Menendez. “We don’t load until we are on site.”
“Vehicles?”
Hector answered, “Two, we’ll take three in the truck, three in the car. Car leads, truck follows.”
John looked down at his watch. “Okay, listen up. Here are the pairings and which lab each pair is going to. Now they are locking the off shift people in the huts,” pointing to the drawing on the blackboard, “Here, here, and here for the three camps. Each camp has a small generator running, at least one guard, and it looks like there is one chemist handling all three of these labs. All of the workers are chained, usually two of them together with leg irons…”
A half hour later, Hector pulled out of the garage with John in the passenger’s seat and Menendez in the back seat, and with Fernando driving the truck with Pasquale and Felix riding with him. A little over two hours later, Fernando backed the truck into a track they’d marked, a hundred yards north of the track leading to the three labs. Hector backed in next until the car wasn’t visible from the road, and they geared up in the dim moonlight.
John called softly, and everyone gathered around. “Here we go. Radios on channel one. We have the furthest to go, so wait until I call that we are in position before you hit your respective labs. Once you’ve secured your lab, check in and we’ll start the searches at the same time. If anybody has to shoot, go hard at that point and report it.”
There were nods and thumbs up from everyone, and they moved out quietly, crossing the road and following the track toward the three labs. Felix and Pasquale broke off first, moving quietly down the track to the first lab, then Hector and Fernando ghosted down the second track. John and Menendez finally got to the third lab and keyed the mic, saying softly, “We’re in position. Everybody ready?”
He heard Felix, “Ready.”
Then Hector, “Ready, Lobo.”
He glanced at Menendez and got a thumbs up as he quietly snicked off the safety on the AK. John slipped the safety off on the De Lisle and said, “Go.” He motioned for Menendez to follow him and stalked quietly toward the light and noise of the generator. He saw the guard walking slowly back and forth between the hut and the opening in the ground for the lab. He waited until the guard was silhouetted in the light from the lab, got a good sight picture through the scope, and pressed the trigger. The guard dropped where he stood, and they rushed forward in tandem.
Menendez stood, eyes watering from the fumes coming out of the ground, while John did a quick search of the guard and dragged him away from the steps going down to the lab. He held a key ring up and Menendez nodded, then took the keys and walked over to the hut, unlocked it, and counted the people asleep. He came back, handed the keys back to John, and said, “Six in there. All chained. I’ll go down again, much as I hate to.”
John nodded, and Menendez eased down the crumbling steps, AK at the ready. He yelled and charged into the lab, and moments later, pushed three people up the steps. The first two were women chained together with an eight foot length of chain, while the third, a man, came up wearing a breathing mask. Menendez was coughing and his eyes were watering as John forced the three to the ground and ripped the mask off the man’s face. Menendez finally said, “I’ve got them.”
John went over to the hut and woke the others, found the right key, and unchained them. He came back and unchained the two women, as Menendez started questioning the rest of the slaves. Half listening, he leaned the De Lisle against a tree and slipped off his pack, digging for the det cord, blasting cap, and timer that was wrapped up in it. He glanced up to see Menendez with his back to the man, and the man’s hand coming out of his pocket.
Dropping the pack, he shoved Menendez to the left, simultaneously drawing his 1911 from the holster as he heard a ‘pop’ and felt pain high on his left shoulder. He snapped a shot at the man, hitting him in the face as a second pop sounded, but that shot went wild. He fired a second shot into the man’s head, paying the insurance, and turned toward Menendez, “You alright?”
Menendez nodded as he gulped air. “I think so. Are you?”
John heard the radio go off in his ear. “Who shot?”
He told Menendez, “Tell them we did, situation under control. He got me in the shoulder, but I can function. I’ll get these people moving. Dig the stuff out of my pack and set the timer for thirty minutes. And grab my rifle. I can’t carry it or the pack.” he motioned toward the pack and De Lisle. “Now, dammit!” He motioned with the 1911, then told the slaves to get up and walk up the track, leaving Menendez mumbling to himself as he reported everything under control. He used a small flashlight to find the det cord, blasting cap, and timer then laid the det cord out in the underground lab, and came up coughing and eyes watering again. He got the blasting cap in and set the timer to thirty minutes before he connected it. H swept the light around, then shoved the two bodies down the steps.
Shaking his head, he picked up the De Lisle and pack, then trotted after John, and found him stumbling after the slaves. Shining his light on John’s back, he said, “Jo…Lobo, it’s a through and through. You’re bleeding pretty good from your back.”
John nodded. “Don’t feel real good either. Got to get back to the cars. Probably gonna need a doctor.”
“Yeah, and we need to at least get a bandage on you.”
John stumbled again, slurring his words, “When we…get…car. Drop people… in Florencia.”
“Lobo! Give me your gun. They can carry you.” He directed two of the slaves to help John, as he got on the radio. “Patron, El Lobo has been shot. We will need to get him to…care as soon as possible.”
Menendez realized they had never given him a call sign and shook his head as the radio exploded with voices. Finally, Hector said, “We are back at the vehicles. I will pull the car down to the track. Padre is on his way to you to help. The esclavos are loaded in the back of the truck and ready to go to Florencia.”
Menendez double clicked the mic and told the slaves to speed up. Pasquale met them moments later, and slung John over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, then trotted toward the road. A couple of minutes later, they arrived at the road and he threw the backpack and De Lisle in the back of the car as Pasquale and Hector bandaged John’s shoulder as he half laid in the back seat. Hector looked up worriedly. “Lots of blood. Are you sure the only hit was the shoulder?”
Menendez shrugged. “I didn’t check him. Just got him here. He was still moving a few minutes ago, but slurring.”
Pasquale said, “Get in. We’ll pass him to you, then you hold him.” Menendez went around and got in, reached across and guided John’s shoulders as Hector and Pasquale moved him gently into the car. He moaned and Pasquale said, “You are safe, Lobo. Go with God.” He stepped back and shut the door, then trotted toward the truck.
Hector got in and said, “Hang on to him, if there is a problem, let me know. Otherwise, I will go to Quito.”
Menendez said, “Do that. Go directly to the embassy, there is a doctor and an infirmary there. The quicker the better.”
An hour later, he said, “Hector, slow down for a minute and turn on the dome light. I…think we have a problem.” Hector complied and turned on the dome light as Menendez shifted around and looked at John. “Shit, he’s bleeding bad. He’s bled through the bandage we put on.”
Hector glanced back and said, “Try put
ting pressure on the wound. Maybe that will help.” Menendez did that, and John moaned and writhed trying to get away from the pressure. Hector shook his head. “That’s not going to work, you can’t hold him down. But if he’s moving, he’s still alive. Hang on, I’m going to go as fast as I can. Maybe another thirty, forty minutes.”
Menendez wasn’t really a praying man, but he started praying for help as Hector slammed the Mercedes through corners and passed the few cars on the highway like they were sitting still. As they hit the outskirts of Quito, he checked John as they flashed under the few working street lights. “How much longer? He still bleeding, he’s not responding, and I’m having trouble getting a pulse.”
“Five, maybe ten minutes. I’m going to go to the vehicle gate, maybe they will let us in.”
“Try it. Shit! My badge is at your shop. They…might recognize me. Pull up, stop, and shut the car off. I’ll get out and…hope there is a Marine on duty, not just the local guards.”
Fifteen minutes later, John lay on a gurney in the dispensary as the Chief Corpsman stuck an IV in his arm and started pushing O positive blood. “Doc should be here in fifteen. He lives close.” He glanced up at Menendez and noted the amount of blood covering the front of his coveralls. “How long has he been bleeding out?”
Menendez slumped down in a chair. “About…two hours. I think. He was walking, then we picked him up and carried him.”