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The Cartel Takedown

Page 11

by Frank Dorn


  “Don’t call me that.”

  “My apologies, Lea. I get confused when I’m drunk and tripping and lost in a jungle.”

  She didn’t respond. The silence stretched out for seconds, or near infinity, depending on the perspective. Finally Brandie spoke. “I have to go.”

  “Send someone out to find me.”

  “I’ll come and get you after I straighten this mess out.”

  She hung up and Akhim nearly gave up. He put his phone away and climbed back into the tree. This time he would look for the village, or smoke, or people.

  He was eighty feet in the air, at least, when he spotted smoke. He was so excited he did a little dance but his left foot slipped off the branch and he fell. He let out a high pitched scream but stopped when his descent abruptly stopped. The belt loop on the back of his pants had caught on a dead branch. Now he was swinging back and forth, seventy feet up in the air.

  But he couldn’t reach the nearest branch below him and he couldn’t twist around enough to reach the branch that was holding him. There was only one thing to do. He had to take off his pants, but first he removed his belt, looped it up and over the branch, and then fastened it under his right arm. Once that was done he slipped out of his pants, freed them from the dead branch, lowered himself the branch below him, undid the belt, and got dressed.

  Then he climbed back up the tree until he could see the smoke again. Carefully marking the direction, he climbed back to terra firma and headed toward the village, silently promising himself that he would never take snuff of any kind from anyone ever again.

  17. 17

  The fiesta had broken up into small groups. Everyone had their cell phones out. People were pointing to their phones or someone else’s and arguing. Some of the arguments were rather heated.

  Starbuck didn’t like it. He liked it when people were agreeable, having fun, and getting along. That, after all, was what fiestas were for. If Jose, the General’s nephew, were around he could ask him what was going on. Flores didn’t appreciate the young man. Maybe he would have to poach him away from a life in the military. He’d be doing them both a favor, really.

  Of course Miss Lea Kalani wasn’t present, either, so there was little doubt as to where Jose had gone. He would follow her anywhere. Perhaps she was more likely to steal him away than anyone, and if she didn’t he would likely be heartbroken.

  He laughed ruefully. He had been that young and infatuated once, a long time ago. She had been an Indian, or First People as she preferred. Black hair, dark eyes, a bit of a tomboy, but long legged, lean, and beautiful. He could still close his eyes and picture her and she was still beautiful. Last he had heard she was married with three children and living in the States, somewhere on the east coast.

  He laughed out loud at himself. This was a party and no time to get maudlin. He stood up and made the rounds, telling jokes and laughing at the jokes of others, inquiring after spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, parents and of course children. Nothing about work, or the morning’s unpleasantness. Yesterday, he had called on the families of the dead, offered his sympathies, held crying children, hugged crying widows and mothers. He made sure the families would be cared for, and brought funds to get them through the coming month, but their long term care had yet to be arranged. He wished Jose worked for him. He’d assign that as his first task.

  On his way back to the head table he spotted the shaved army apes who had been nothing but trouble since Flores had arrived. They were eyeing him, and laughing. At him. That could not be allowed to continue.

  There were twenty of his best men at the party. They appeared relaxed and engaged with their comrades but a glance and nod from him was enough to put all of them on high alert. If the army brats were half as good as they thought they were, they would have noticed the subtle shifts in mood and movement. They were not, however, that good.

  He strode over to the army brats, a smile playing on his lips. If they knew him, they would know that they were staring death in the face. Again, they proved themselves ignorant. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries of politeness.

  “What is so funny?”

  The biggest man there had a bit of a beer gut. He folded his admittedly impressive arms across his belly and looked down at Starbuck, grinning.

  “Your big movie stars are.”

  “How so?”

  “You do not keep up with current events?”

  “I’m hosting a party. It is rude to ignore one’s guests and bury one’s nose in their cellphone. I mention this only in case you should someday host one.”

  “Their movie, The Jungle Has Teeth, has been canceled.”

  “Such things happen in business. So what?”

  “They are stuck here, and they’ve been fired, and I would bet they don’t even know it.”

  This was bad news. The idea of a movie, an American movie, being made in their little hamlet had brought people together. They were excited and curious and they bonded over this intrusion into their world. Taking that away tonight, of all nights, would be horrible.

  “Really? How much are you willing to bet? And if you are so certain will you be offering odds?”

  “Even odds, the way gentlemen bet.”

  Starbuck laughed in the man’s face. “Look around. Do you see any gentlemen?”

  Smiling, Starbuck looked around. His men were standing, tactically placed, and they were not smiling. The fat man looked around and noticed for the first time Starbuck’s men, and their positions. He scowled.

  “Is something bothering you? Do you need something to calm your stomach?” Starbuck asked solicitously. Unless the man wanted a fist, knife, or bullet in his breadbasket he wasn’t inclined to give it to him, but it never hurt to fake compassion.

  “We don’t want trouble.”

  “Well isn’t that nice. I do not want trouble either, so I suggest you and your friends don’t stir any up.”

  The big man smiled. All lips. The men around him stood up. The party fell silent except for the unmistakable sounds of bolts being drawn, and machetes and handguns being pulled from scabbards and holsters. The men sat down. Seconds ticked slowly past until the big man unfolded his arms and sat down too.

  Starbuck smiled “Bring out the rum!” Cheers went up from around the party. A young man rushed over with two bottles of the finest bootleg rum in the Amazon basin. He took them and handed them both to the leader. “Enjoy.”

  “Wait. Have a drink.”

  Starbuck couldn’t refuse. Unfortunately the man poured two tumblers full almost to the top. Starbuck frowned as he took the glass. “This is sipping liquor. If you wish slamming liquor, we can oblige.” He whistled and raised his left fist. Moments later a clear five gallon jug was lugged over. Starbuck set aside his tumbler and lifted the heavy jug to his lips. He took a deep drink, coughed once, then passed it along. “Tastes like a cross between kerosene and tequila with cactus needles still in it.”

  The big man took the jug. Apparently it was heavier than he expected. He lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. For about half a second. He almost dropped the jug and it was only Starbuck’s quick reflexes that saved it. He handed it on to the next man, then patted the man who was doubled over, coughing and spitting.

  “Mother Mary that is toxic. Is it kerosene or jet fuel?”

  “I can almost guarantee it is unleaded. Here.” He handed over his tumbler. “Remember, sipping liquor.”

  And that was the moment Akhim staggered out of the jungle. His clothes were filthy and in complete disarray. His eyes had the thousand yard stare of a man who had snorted ebene for the first time with no spirit guide to help him.

  “Akhim! Over here!”

  The poor man reacted as if he was stunned to hear his name aloud, he flailed about almost as much as he staggered about. He turned his whole body to stare in the general direction of Starbuck.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Starbuck. This way. Follow my voice. We have sipping rum which you may like.”r />
  Starbuck knew enough to treat a stoned old man like a feral cat; speak softly and offer libations. Akhim followed his voice until he was swaying beside him.

  “How goes it?”

  “Not good. I’ve been lost, fired from my latest film, and had the most peculiar argument, no scratch that, spirited discussion, with a talking lizard.”

  Starbuck looked to the big man. The soldier offered Akhim his tumbler of rum. Akhim took it, sniffed it, then drank. Starbuck shrugged, sighed and clapped his arm around Akhim. “No worries. You’ll sort it out in the morning.”

  Akhim shook him off, and took his tumbler of rum in one graceful motion. “By then it will be too late, however I need some assistance. I can find my phone, but when I hold it there are three of them.”

  As if to demonstrate he fished out his phone, sipped rum, teetered almost to the point of collapse, and held his phone in front of his eyes. “Scratch that, five of them.”

  Starbuck took the phone and handed it to the army leader. “How can we help?”

  “Call Earl Graham, he’s in my contact list, put the phone on speakerphone, and be quiet.” He gulped the rum, spilling half of it down his chin and the front of his shirt. “Do you have any more of this?”

  “Happy hour, alas, is over. Time for happier hour. Coffee.”

  Akhim made a face. “Fine… ready?”

  The phone was placed on the table and Akhim leaned over it. It rang and rang…

  … and rang and rang. The longer it went on, the closer Akhim’s face got to the phone until Starbuck was certain he would pass out on top of it.

  ~*~

  Earl Graham had never been happier for a day to be over. His head was throbbing from lack of caffeine early in the day and too much alcohol all through the day. He should never have let Betty serve scotch before five.

  Now his phone was ringing. His head was about to explode. Couldn’t the world just leave him alone for six hours?

  Finally he gave up and answered. “This better be damned important.”

  “Mister Graham I have a call for you.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Jim. I work for Charlie. Please hold for Akhim … Gangnam?”

  ~*~

  Somehow the entire village had gathered around them. Starbuck spied people who hadn’t even been at the fiesta. What the hell? Who were they and what were they doing here? He glanced at his head man on site who gave him a placating gesture, both hands sweeping down. Starbuck nodded, listened and watched.

  “Hello Akhim. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m in the middle of a jungle and read on internet that I had been fired.”

  “Sorry about that. It isn’t what you think.”

  “Please.” Enlighten me was left unsaid.

  “We don’t have a time slot for distribution, plus the financiers worry Lea is too light weight to carry the film.”

  “Once you see her on screen-”

  “Akhim believe it or not it isn’t my decision.”

  “Bull. Shit.”

  “It isn’t my decision because I delegated it but I also agree with it.”

  “You going to tell Lea?”

  “That’s your job.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Sure but you still think I cheated you at poker when we were in college.”

  “Don’t go there. So Lea’s really gone?”

  “I know you two work well together, and you respect and like her, but I can’t bet twenty million plus prints and advertising on that.”

  Akhim sighed. “If you think of a way...”

  Graham sighed back. “Give it a few days. We’ll find distribution. If you find financing you can keep Lea. I’ll make it work.”

  “Okay I don’t hate you any more.”

  “How’s things in wherever the hell you are?”

  “Muggy, alcoholic, and talking lizards.”

  “Good to know. Good night.”

  They both hung up. Akhim nearly fell over while trying to pocket his cellphone. “Well now, that went well.” Then he passed out.

  Starbuck and the fat man laid him out on the table covering him with a tablecloth.

  “Good thing you didn’t bet.” Starbuck nodded, and left.

  18. 18

  The one room building was dark and the windows shuttered. At the front was a desk which was covered in books and papers, all in English. Behind it was a blackboard. At the other end of the room was a table with a half dozen state of the art computers and monitors, and a single door, now closed.

  There was space for tables and chairs, but there were none present. Apparently they had been commandeered for the fiesta. The only seat was a stool in the corner beside the desk. Brandie sat alone, in the dark.

  She just found out that her Lea Kalani persona had been fired publicly but not in person. Her character’s name was being dragged through the mud on blogs and in snarky entertainment news articles. She didn’t care, really. If needs be, she would just create another fake identity or dig one of her pre-existing fake identities out of storage and use it.

  So why was she so blue? Sure she was stuck in hot humid jungle with no means of leaving, surrounded by hostile troops and drug gangsters, but so what? She had experienced worse weather and certainly had been in more danger.

  When she was showed the articles she immediately thought of Jose. He’d be able to help her smooth things over with Flores and Starbuck. She looked everywhere around the Fiesta but didn’t see him and finally started searching the surrounding area. He was sitting on the ground behind one of the homes eating dinner and laughing with a pretty young woman who was draped all over him.

  The ties at the top of the woman’s blouse had strategically come undone and Jose was enjoying the view. He didn’t notice Brandie, however the girl did. She glared at Brandie and returned her attention to Jose. Brandie had quietly backed away and started looking for someplace quiet instead.

  She had very rationally picked out the low caste nerd to flirt with. He, and the rest of the crowd, had responded just as she expected and she had manipulated them into accepting her as a regular person. That was all she had wanted so why did it bother her that, once she’d made Jose look like a catch, the local women had noticed, too?

  But it had bothered her, just like a fictional character being fired from a fictional job bothered her. Just like, right after getting off the phone with Akhim, she had walked through the party with all eyes on her. She saw their faces, their pity, their schadenfreude, their amusement. In fact, it bothered her more than being shot at or bombed. Which had lead her to what was clearly a one room schoolhouse. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she noticed creepy crawly critters of the night on the walls, floors, and ceilings.

  She watched in fascinated horror as a foot long centipede did battle with a hairy spider the size of a dinner plate. Didn’t these insects know they were supposed to be tiny? Ugh.

  Suddenly the door opened. Brandie froze.

  “Lea?”

  She recognized the voice. Starbuck. “Hi.” She answered.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “Would you believe me if I said I was studying?”

  “In the dark? By yourself? No.”

  “It’s more of an internal examination with only three questions. What am I doing here? How did I get here? And what am I going to do now?”

  “Those are excellent questions. I ask myself some version of them almost every day.”

  “Any answers?”

  “Not really, but then again, my profession is a little more cutthroat even than yours.”

  Brandie sighed. “You heard about the movie.”

  Starbuck laughed. “Yes, everyone has by now. Akhim is working some angles but apparently distribution is insisting on a better known leading lady.”

  Starbuck saw her slump on the stool, but she straightened her back almost immediately.

  “They’re probably right,” she said, “I always thought I’d be better as the upstart
young villainess.”

  “I have a hard time picturing you as the bad guy. You’ve certainly made an impression on all of us.”

  Brandie laughed. “Good public relations are always important and honestly I blame us, myself, for what happened at your plant.”

  It was Starbuck’s turn to laugh. “Is that why you made your grand entrance as the self absorbed airhead actress.”

  “Yup.”

  “It didn’t stick. You were too clever and too nice.”

 

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