Lost in the Maze

by Gary William Ramsey

  “Oh yea,” he said, and moved to a space to the side of the entrance. Sonny left the car and went to the office. He left the keys in the ignition. Macy grabbed them and slipped into the back seat.

  “Lisa you’ve trusted me so far, don’t give up on me now. Someone’s coming for you. I’m going to place you in the floorboard. Just lie still.” Lisa nodded. “I’m going to untie you but don’t try to run please.”

  Russ Brennan and his mongrel dog Joe, were watching a rerun of Happy Days when his phone rang. Russ was resting his 6 ft. 6 inch frame on his beloved timeworn black leather sofa. He and his late wife Katherine purchased it at Gallery Furniture in Houston. He bought it directly from Mattress Mac, Houston’s most famous furniture dealer, twenty years before they were transferred to the regional FBI offices in New York. He felt that Katherine’s spirit was on the couch beside him.

  Russ ran his fingers through his white hair and squeezed his cheeks. He was becoming drowsy, and Joe had been asleep beside him for about an hour.

  His wife Katherine was looking forward to his retiring from the FBI after thirty years of service, however the monster cancer got her during his last year of working. A retirement of traveling with the love of his life was shattered. He retired and built a log cabin on five acres of wooded property, seeking seclusion and peace.

  About a year after retirement, he was at a Burger King enjoying a Whopper, when he noticed a dog scavenging food scraps in the parking lot. He felt sorry for the mangy stray, so he got out of his Ford-150 four-door truck and fed the mutt the remainder of his Whopper.

  The stray followed him back to the truck and whined. Russ opened the door and the mongrel jumped in and sat on the passenger seat. He looked like a mix between a Labrador and a Bulldog and who knows what else. He was reddish brown in color and his fur was dirty and matted. Russ went to the drive thru and ordered two double cheeseburgers and fed them to the hungry dog.

  “You love those burgers as much as my uncle Joe.” Russ said to the dog. “I’ll call you Joe.”

  He took Joe home with him and the mutt became his partner. Russ went nowhere without Joe beside him in the front seat of his red four-door pickup truck.

  The phone unrelenting continued to ring.

  Who in the hell would be calling me tonight, Russ thought. “Damn,” he said aloud as he removed Joe’s head from his lap and got up. Joe whined and followed him.

  “Hello!” Russ yelled into the phone.

  “Russ, is that you?”

  “Who in the hell is this?” Russ screeched.

  “This is Stancil,” the Director replied.

  Russ slapped himself in the head. “I’m sorry Director, you’re the last person on earth I expected to hear from. What can I do for you?”

  “Russ I haven’t seen you or heard from you since Katherine’s funeral. Are you doing okay?”

  “Yes sir. I’m doing fine, just a little lonesome. But me and my dog Joe are surviving.”

  “Russ, I’ve got an emergency, and I need your help. Sorry, but I need to get directly to the point. I can’t give you all the details, but there is a crisis in the government and I don’t know who I can trust. Did you hear the news about Senator Roberts?”

  “Yes Sir, apparently he killed his wife and committed suicide by jumping off that cruise ship. I met the man when he first came to the Senate. He didn’t seem like the sort of fellow who would do something like that. I saw the press conference when Special Agent Stewart talked to the press. Gerry seemed pissed in the broadcast.”

  “He thinks it’s a set up,” Stancil replied. “One thing that did not get a lot of press is that the Senator’s daughter is also missing. I’ve got an undercover agent in Chicago embedded in the Russian Mafia. They have the Senator’s daughter. Right now my Agent and a thug are there in New York on the way to deliver the girl to the New York Godfather of the largest mafia family in the US. His name is Nevsky. She’ll probably be used as a sex slave then sold to the highest bidder. Her name is Lisa Roberts. They are just off highway eighty-four near Tetterboro airport at the corner of Lancaster and Durham, and driving a black SUV. There’s a Burger King there with a Quality Inn just across the street. The SUV should be nearby. I need you there quickly. I don’t know how long my Agent can hold the thug off and keep him in that location.”

  “What does the Agent look like?”

  “She’s Indian with long black hair, about 5 ft. 8 inches tall and really a looker. Do you know the location?”

  “Yes sir, it’s only about twenty minutes from here. I can leave immediately. What do you want me to do with the Roberts girl?”

  “Take her to your location. I’ll notify Agent Stewart, and he can arrange a safe house. Be careful not to expose my Agent. She’s our principal hope to determine what’s happening in this scenario.”

  “You can count on me Director. I’m leaving right now.”

  “God speed Russ, and call me on this secure number when you have the girl, 715 555 0100.”

  After writing the number down, Russ pulled on his boots, “Let’s go Joe. We’re going to the Burger King where I found you. Got to save a damsel in distressed.” He chuckled, “Man it’s great to be working again.”

  Chapter 26

  I held my breath and remained perfectly still. “Hey Mike,” the high pitched voice said, “Let’s follow this trail and see where it leads. Looks like the guy with the monkey marked his trail.”

  Mike turned and I heard his footsteps as he walked away. “I’m coming Gimble,” he sneered. “Hold your damn horses.”

  I stayed motionless until there was silence for ten minutes. Looking around and seeing no one, I made my way back to the clearing where the shots were fired. I retrieved my fish spear and gourd filled with stingray meat. The spear is no match for a gun, but it’s all I have.

  I went back into the woods and gazed up at the trees. No monkeys in sight. Since the thugs were obviously headed to my camp, I decided to go in the direction from which they came. They mentioned that a person named Mary was looking after the compound.

  Keeping low in the underbrush, I went west. About thirty minutes passed and I came to an abrupt halt. Just ahead was a clearing. I noticed ditches and what looked like an irrigation system. Tall green plants were in straight rows. There was a twenty-foot wide area of rock and sand along the perimeter of the field separating it from the forest.

  Cannabis sativa is perhaps the world’s most recognizable plant. Pictures of the ubiquitous, green cannabis leaf shows up in the news media, textbooks and drug-prevention literature. Its shape is made into jewelry, plastered on bumper stickers and clothing, and spray-painted on walls. The leaves are arranged palmately, radiating from a common center, like the fingers of a hand spreading apart. As far as I could see there were marijuana plants. The plants were bushy and three to five feet tall.

  I walked the perimeter of the field for about half a mile. I could not begin to estimate the total number of plants in this huge crop.

  I decided to venture into the field to find the camp the men mentioned. I guess I traveled about three quarters of a mile when I reached the front. I crouched low and looked around. No one was in sight. Just outside the fields were a couple of large water tanks, I assume for irrigation. I left the cover of the field and walked forward.

  What I observed looked more like a prison compound than a camp. The front of the camp was waterfront. A twelve-foot chain length fence with razor wire above it stretched left and right all the way down to the waterfront, and about four feet into the water. A large gate was at the entrance, I assume large enough to get the necessary equipment out to harvest the marijuana plants. A small gate about the size of a regular door was four feet to the right of the large gate. That apparently was the entrance for the people manning the compound.

  I looked around again, and spotting no one, I walked to the small gate. Turning the knob, I found that it was unlocked.

  The first thing I saw was a large building, just to the left of the g
ate. A big tank was located behind the building with some sort of pipe going from the tank through a hole in the structure. I heard the purring of a motor inside the building. It was made of fabricated metal and looked like an airplane hanger. I ran to the structure and ducked behind it. I looked around the corner and spotted a door.

  Again looking around and seeing no one, I ran to the door, opened it and went inside. The first thing I noticed was a large generator. The pipe from the tank was attached. The tank was apparently filled with gas fueling the generator. The remainder of this building was filled with equipment, I assume needed for the drug operation. I looked around, but saw nothing I could use as a weapon.

  I left the structure and continued to explore. Just in front of the equipment building was what appeared to be a smaller storage building. About one hundred feet to the front of that were a doublewide trailer and a small white house. Another structure was behind the trailer, but I couldn’t make it out since my view was partially blocked by the trailer.

  I proceeded to the storage building, hid to the side and looked toward the trailer. It was located about eighty feet from the water. A wooden pier stretched out into the water at least thirty yards. There was a T at the end with a fifty-foot boat tied there. A large tube extended from the T and connected to one of two of the water huge water tanks. Several additional pieces of equipment were parked to the side of the house. I guess they were used in the harvesting of the marijuana plants.

  Still seeing no one, I walked to the entrance of the storage building. There was a small window on the side. I attempted to look inside, but the glass was dirty and I couldn’t see the contents. I moved to the door. It was unlocked.

  I have no Idea where this Mary woman is or if the two thugs would return at any minute.

  I opened the door and went inside. The first thing I saw was a large freezer. I opened it and it contained frozen meat, beef, chicken, and fish filets. To the side of the freezer were rows of shelves holding can goods. I examined them and most had pop-top lids. I grabbed a can of Spam, popped the top, and gulped down the meat. I have never tasted anything better. For desert I opened a can of fruit cocktail and savored the sweet contents. I can only assume that the caretakers of the marijuana fields were here for long stretches of time without a connection to the outside world, hence the need for food storage.

  There were several large trunks on the far corner of the building. I went to that area and opened the first one. It contained a couple of knapsacks, what appeared to be collapsible water containers, and other camping equipment. I placed a knapsack and water container to the side. Several fishing poles were leaning against the corner. I opened the other trunk and hit the jackpot. Inside were a .22 rifle, a 12-gauge pump shotgun, and several boxes of ammunition. A machete lay on the bottom of the trunk along with a pair of binoculars. I removed the shotgun, loaded it with five shells, grabbed the knapsack and crammed a couple boxes of shells and the binoculars inside. After depositing the water container in the knapsack, I filled the knapsack with all the can goods I could stuff in.

  Snatching the machete, I made my way back to the door. There were other things in the shed, but I had what I needed for the time being. I put the knapsack over my shoulder, and carried the shotgun in one hand and the machete in the other. I had no more use for the gourd of stingray meet or my fish spear, so I just left them behind.

  I made my way back to the perimeter of the marijuana field when I heard the sound of a door slamming. I crouched behind the pump house and peered back toward the house. I saw a woman unfolding a lounge chair. Reaching inside the knapsack I fished out the binoculars and held them to my eyes. The young woman looked to be in her twenties and had long black hair and olive skin. She was wearing a red bikini and carrying a book. She lay down on the lounge chair and began reading. “Hello Mary,” I whispered.

  Time to get away from here before Mike and Gimble returned. They certainly will know that I visited their camp, but they have no way of determining if I am the only one on the island with them.

  It took me several minutes to make my way to the back edge of the marijuana field. I walked past the clearing and back into the jungle, keeping myself low in the underbrush. I went parallel to my previously marked trail toward the shelter on the beach. Time to get to a safe place and devise a plan. I still have no idea where this island is, but there is certainly a way off via the boat. I can only assume that there are just two men and a woman operating as caretakers, but I don’t know when additional drug people will return to check on them or harvest the cannabis.

  Chattering in the trees caught my attention. I looked up and Moses was there with about five other monkeys. A shot rang out and they scampered away in the treetops. I guess they were trying to warn me. I crouched low, laid down the machete, and raised the shotgun.

  “I hate those damn monkeys,” the high-pitched voice of Gimble grumbled.

  “If you weren’t such a piss poor shot that white one would already be dead,” Mike responded, and chuckled.

  “Go to hell,” Gimble replied. The two men walked past me not ten feet away. Both were carrying weapons. Mike toted what looked like an M4 AR15 semi automatic rifle. Gimble had a .22 caliber semi automatic rifle. I could have blasted one of them with the shotgun, but probably the other one would get me. I decided to lay low and think this thing through.

  Once they passed, I worked my way back to the shelter. When I got to the edge of the clearing, I looked around. Seeing no movement, I walked to the beach. My camp was destroyed by fire. The embers were crackling, sending pieces of fire into the air. I guess Gimble and Mike searched it and of course found nothing, because I have nothing. Since they know where the camp was, I obviously can’t use it anymore. I went back into the woods and bid goodbye to my former home.

  I made my way back to the water hole. After assuring myself that no thugs or wild beasts were around, I filled the collapsible water container. I now have water, food and weapons so my position on this island has significantly improved. However, with the thugs knowing that another human is here, I can no longer build a fire of go out in the open. Therefore now I must protect my self from wild animals and killer humans.

  “Heavenly shades of night are falling. It’s twilight time.” Those words from the old Platters song filled my mind as darkness was beginning to descend. I went deeper into the woods and quickly threw together a shelter. Wielding the machete, I cut branches filled with leaves and built what looked like a cocoon. I put my possessions inside and pulled a branch over the opening. Now if anything came to attack me I would hear the rustling of branches being crushed or trampled. I don’t think the drug thugs would be in the forest at night, but night hunting animals would.

  I opened a can of Spam and devoured it along with a long drink of water. What a day. The adrenaline had long left my body, and I was dead tired. I laid my head on the water container and drifted off to a restless sleep.

  I gazed at the crisp full moon partially covered by moving clouds, as I was always searching for her essence. Susan’s face appeared in the stars, and I talked to her. She smiled as I spoke.

  “I don’t even know if you are real, but my soul dies a slow death when you’re not with me. I cannot distinguish between your face in the stars and your physical being. I know only that you epitomize my dreams and my search for happiness.”

  Her beautiful face faded, the sky cleared and showed me the beauty of the evening. The stars twinkled and the breeze cooled the tears on my face. I closed my eyes and felt the cold isolation of being alone.

  Her warm essence awakened me and her face appeared again among the stars,

  I spoke, “Why do you hide yourself among the stars when I offer you my soul. Why do you show me your face to make my heart burn for your presence? Are you an Angel or are you the essence of my only true love trying to find me as I am searching for you?”

  The night breeze whispered into my ear, “I want to be your only love, please find me.”

  “I wi
ll search for you until my last breath is expelled. Just promise to meet me here every night. Let the stars keep you warm. I will find you, I will someday find you.”

  Loud chattering awoke me from the sweet dream. My first thoughts were of my wife and daughter. I don’t know what happened to them, but I am reminded that I must do anything necessary to get back. There’s a boat at the dock in front of the marijuana field compound. I am armed and dangerous and come hell or high water, I’ll get that boat.

  I removed the branch to the entrance to my cocoon. Moses and Zippy were standing there looking curious. Zippy was holding the empty Spam can that I had discarded the night before. She was licking the juice from the empty can. I laughed and fished another can of Spam from the knapsack and popped it open. I shook out the greasy meat, broke it in half, and tossed it to my monkey friends. They gobbled it down like it was a filet mignon, and squealed. Their first taste of Spam excited them.

  Suddenly Moses turned and looked behind him. He grabbed Zippy’s hand and jerked it. He looked at me and squealed again. This sound was not like the one of pleasure while eating the Spam. This was a squeal of fear. The two of them scampered off and climbed to the treetops.

  I grabbed the shotgun, moved ten feet away from the cocoon and waited, lying motionless on my stomach in the underbrush. I knew danger was approaching.

  Chapter 27

  The members of the Special Security Council Advisors to the President of the United States sat impatiently waiting for President James Helms and his Chief of Staff Roy Long to come to the Cabinet Room. This select group was not known to the press, and operated in complete secrecy.

  The Cabinet room is in the West Wing adjoining the Oval Office. In the center of the room is a large elliptical mahogany table, which was a gift from President Nixon in 1970. The President and the cabinet secretaries’ chairs are copies of a late-eighteenth century design. The President’s chair is centered on the table on the east side of the room. The back of the President’s chair is two inches taller than those of the cabinet secretaries. Engraved brass plates with the names of the cabinet positions are attached to the back of the chairs. The President’s simply says “THE PRESIDENT.” The chairs are purchased by the cabinet members, who may keep the chair as a souvenir after they leave office. Some cabinet members have had their chairs returned to the cabinet room for several positions and administrations.