by Joe Nobody
Despite the urgency of his quest, Zach’s hike through New Mexico and encounter with the authorities had worn the ranger thin. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
Chapter 13
It was the most wonderful smell. Zach’s eyes fluttered open, the aroma drifting past the hammock and pulling him from the depths of slumber.
For a moment, the ranger didn’t know where he was – a sure sign he’d managed at least a few cycles of REM sleep.
Next came a bit of confusion as he struggled to swing out of the hammock. Finally managing to get his feet on the ground before his ass, he checked his boots for scorpions and other desert critters, and then stood to stretch.
The breeze brought him that appetizing fragrance again. Someone was cooking meat over mesquite. His stomach rumbled a thunderous approval.
The meal was simple and one of the best the Texan could remember. Thin strips of steak cooked over an open fire of mesquite bricks. Small ears of corn dipped in homemade, extra salty butter, and a cold blonde ale called Baja that was served with orange peels floating in the glass.
Zach was embarrassed at how much food he was shoving into his pie hole, but couldn’t stop himself. BB and Izzy seemed gratified that their guest was gorging himself on their fare.
After everyone had finished eating, BB motioned for Zach to join him in the barn. Glancing left and right to verify no one was around, he lifted a thick, wooden pallet from the floor and swept away an inch of loose sand, exposing a heavy, metal slab buried in the earth. “My gun safe,” the lawman-turned-rancher announced.
BB produced a key, uncapped the protected lock, and opened the weighty door. Reaching inside, he pulled out two bundles, each wrapped in a spongy oilcloth. A few moments later, Zach was holding an AR15 rifle, complete with holographic optic and mounted flashlight. “Where did you get this?”
“From time to time, I’ve cleaned up a few bad apples here and there – kind of helping out the local authorities. If the criminals happen to have a well-maintained firearm in their possession, I consider it to be a finder’s fee.”
Reaching again into the cache, BB produced a couple of gym bags stuffed with magazines, each filled to the brim with 5.56 NATO ammunition. Zach whistled, “Expecting trouble?”
“A man never knows in this country, Ranger Bass.”
Zach grinned, “Understood.”
Twenty minutes later, both men exited the corral with smiles on their faces. Zach had expected BB to provide some firepower, but nothing like the old ranger had delivered. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll pack up, and on the way stop by a certain canyon I know to zero these weapons,” the host announced. “After that, we’ll go hunting.”
“That would be good,” Zach nodded. “That would be very good.”
The two rangers left BB’s ranch shortly after daybreak. Once out of sight of the vaqueros, they stopped to test and zero their weapons.
While Zach was adjusting his red dot, BB began to outline their trip. “You know we’re going to have to be extremely careful. With a civil war going on, we’re going to have to avoid the bigger towns. That might take a while.”
“You’re the expert,” Zach replied. “My Spanish isn’t even that strong.”
BB laughed, raising the AK47 to his shoulder and snapping three rounds that nearly cut a small barrel cactus in half. “Let me guess, you know the basic phrases, like ‘How much is the tequila,’ and ‘Put your hands up, or I’ll shoot your sorry ass.’”
It was Ranger Bass’s turn to chuckle, popping a double tap into a plate-sized rock 100 meters out. “Something like that.”
Wiping a quick cleaning rag through their barrels, BB became serious. “Why, Zach? I mean, I can understand a man having a strong sense of right and wrong. I can even sympathize with your wanting to catch the one that got away or to catch the bastard who shot up that gorgeous partner of yours. But you’re throwing everything away on this little adventure of ours, and before I put my salty, old hide on the line, I’d like to know why.”
Nodding, Zach understood where the older man was coming from. It was time to be honest. “Because I fucked up, that’s why. I made a huge mistake over in Syria, and all of this suffering and death is resting on my shoulders.”
It was obvious BB was trying to grasp what the younger man was saying, but it just wouldn’t come. “I’m sorry to be a senile, ancient fool, but you’re going to have to paint this picture nice and pretty for me. I don’t comprende.”
“There is a man we know only as Ghost. He was the mastermind behind all the shit the republic went through over in Syria. He was behind the counterfeiting … and the highjacking … and Buck’s death. I had him, BB…. I had my cuffs on his wrists and his ass in my pocket, and I let him go. I’m convinced he’s behind all this shit that’s going down around us.”
“You’re ‘convinced’? You’re not sure?”
Zach shook his head as he began checking magazines. “Are we ever sure? I can tell you that I’m about as positive on this as any case I’ve ever bird-dogged. It’s Ghost, all right. His fingerprints and DNA are all over this, and I’m not going to let him get away again.”
BB took some time to study his new partner, almost as if he was trying to make up his mind. Finally, he said, “I’ll be the first to plead guilty that sometimes a lawman has to trust his gut. Still, you’re putting a lot more on the line here than just one ranger’s career. That weapon you’re holding can do a lot of damage to the people of both Mexico and Texas. Are you sure you’re willing to risk an international brouhaha?”
Zach's face became taut, his eyes on fire. “A lot of the death and suffering we’re seeing on the nightly news is my doing. I feel the weight of it on my shoulders. I can see a parade of dead faces in my sleep. Those Marines. All of the Mexicans in body bags. Gus. There is no shortage of people whose lives have been fucked up. I’ve got to end this. I’ve got to make it right.”
The old man nodded. He knew exactly what Zach was going through. “That’s why you asked me to help,” he whispered. “And that is why you knew I would agree.”
“You’ve been there, BB. I thought you … of all the capable men I know … I thought you would understand.”
The elder lawman glanced back up the mountain, toward Queen Isabelle. Finally, he nodded, “One riot, one ranger. One civil war – two rangers. Makes sense to me. I’m in, Zach. With you all the way.”
A few minutes later, the duo was driving west, the old pickup making good time across the blacktop surface of the two-lane highway. “We’ve got about an hour of smooth road, and then things are going to get a little bit more vigorous. We’ll have to cut off the highway and do a little back road navigation to avoid the sizable towns and cities. All said, if our engine don’t quit, and the creek don’t rise, we should be in Tampico by sunrise.”
“Works for me.”
“And when we get there? I’m kind of assuming we’re not traveling across Mexico with all this illegal firepower just to do a little duck hunting. Do you have a plan?”
Zach nodded, but there was a slight hesitation. “I’ve got some inside information that indicates we should visit the marina in Tampico. Ghost is being sponsored by the head of the Gulf Cartel, an hombre known as El General. I’ve heard he’s hanging out in Tampico. Even if that tip doesn’t play out, I’m hoping a bull that big leaves a trail as it crosses the pasture.”
“They usually do,” BB grunted. “Besides, I did a little bounty hunting for the Tampico Chief of Police a while back. Tracked down a couple of very nasty banditos and delivered them alive … mostly. If we come up empty, he might be able to point our noses in the right direction.”
“That’s why you’re earning the big money on this trip, BB,” Zach teased. “It’s not what you know, but who you know – right?”
“Big money, my ass,” the old man spat. “That’ll be the day.”
The country that passed outside Zach’s window wasn’t much different from his native West Texas. Neither were t
he people.
Sure, most of the automobiles they saw would have benefited from a trip to the car wash. Nearly all of them had seen better days. The mountains seemed a little less sharp and pointed. It was almost as if the land was an elderly man whose body was no longer as cut or defined due to time and a life of hard labor. Still, there was a raw beauty to the countryside, a comfort that comes from stability, a gratitude earned from years of providing.
The duo passed through tiny hamlets and villages, avoiding the metropolitan areas and the suburbs for fear of bumbling into the local authorities, or worse yet, the civil war.
As they had traveled across central Mexico, Zach had noticed a large segment of the population didn’t possess all that much pigmentation in their skin. It dawned on him that he could be traveling through southern Europe given the color of people’s flesh. He remarked as much to BB.
“I thought I’d stand out down here like a sore thumb,” Zach noted. “Yet a lot of the locals I’m seeing have a fairer complexion than I do. Just goes to show you, a man can’t believe everything he sees on TV.”
“That’s a common misconception,” BB replied. “There are just as many mixed-blood people in Mexico as there are in Texas. Don’t worry; we won’t stand out unless you start flirting with a señorita. She’d pick up on your bad Spanish and northern accent in a heartbeat.”
Chuckling, Zach promised his new partner that wouldn’t be a problem. At least not on the trip down to Tampico.
As they continued, the young ranger realized it was more than just the people that left an impression of the old world. The architecture carried a sense of age as well.
While the territory outside the truck was comprised of modest communities, the buildings were constructed with softer curves and caught the afternoon sunlight in a different way. There was a simplistic nature in their form and function, be it an humble abode or the mayor’s office.
Basic pastels consumed the color scheme with only one exception – the churches.
It was clear the local folk took their spirituality seriously. In every town and burg, it was always the church’s steeple that first appeared on the horizon. Rarely, did another structure rival the chapel’s size, and never was there a challenger to the gemstone-like colors that exploded from the stained glass windows.
Then there were the people themselves.
BB’s truck required a fuel stop, and while Zach couldn’t remember the name of the town, the genuine friendliness of the place had stuck with the ranger. The people didn’t smile and nod to get tourist money; their greetings and interactions were heartfelt efforts to make the traveler feel at ease.
Twice they stopped at a roadside cantina to fill their human tanks, and again, Zach sensed a deep level of gratification in everyone from the señorita who served their food to the young busboys who cleared their plates.
By sundown, Zach had reached a comfort with his surroundings that extended far beyond familiarity or the repetition of seeing the same basic scene outside of the pickup’s cab, mile after mile. He decided that he liked the culture they were driving through, and it gave him another dimension of righteousness to their cause.
He admired the friendly, unassuming people they encountered. He respected their lifestyle and knew they deserved better than to be slaughtered in a civil war or to be dominated by ruthless criminals.
“We’re going to do a good deed if we kill these men,” he said out loud, surprising BB.
Recovering, the old ranger responded, “Was there ever any doubt about that?”
Zach grinned, “No, I suppose not. Still, I feel better about it. It’s as if these people we’re passing by want us to succeed. They want us to win, and I think we’re going to need all the support we can get.”
By the time the two rangers were pulling into the outskirts of Tampico, it was difficult to tell the duo from the locals.
Zach’s three days’ worth of stubble did a lot to hide his lighter completion and served to make the rogue lawman look like anything but a traveling gringo tourist.
It was hard to estimate when BB had last shaved, his salt and pepper stubble providing a grizzled accent against his sun-darkened, leathery skin.
There were plenty of men who looked like they’d just ridden into town after spending the day on horseback. Other than their height, the two rangers could easily pass for a pair of charros, in town to bust a bronc at the local rodeo.
Given the information passed along by the general at Fort Hood, Zach didn’t want to waste a second and asked BB to pilot them to the local marina.
While Tampico was a large city, the fleet of local pleasure boats was a bit disappointing.
Zach had visited the huge facilities along the Texas coast, places like Clear Lake, the Galveston Yacht Basin, Port Aransas, and others. There he’d found mammoth yachts by the dozens, some well over 100 feet in length and worthy of the most discriminating taste.
Even the sports fishermen had been impressive vessels, their tall bridges and stout outriggers catching the eye of a land-loving cowboy like Zach.
Instead of a fleet of glittering, white pleasure craft stretching off into the distance, they found a short section of finger piers, most of which were empty. The few boats that were docked hardly seemed fit for a man of El General’s wealth and reported taste.
“I don’t see but a handful of boats here that could safely handle you and me, let alone a drug lord and his security detachment. Are you sure we’re in the right place?” BB quipped.
“There’s only one marina listed in Tampico,” Zach replied, now disappointed. “I guess our man isn’t here.”
“Maybe he’s left town?”
Zach had thought about his partner’s question. There was a possibility Vincent had flown the coop, but the ranger doubted it. “He was born and grew up here. My read on the man is that when the going gets rough, he’ll want to stay on familiar ground. The Gulf Cartel supposedly owns this burg from skyscraper to sewer pipe. I think he’s here; we just have to find him.”
BB shrugged, “It’s not like we have anyplace else to go. Let’s get something to eat and think this through.”
The older ranger had worked in the area and knew of a place to grab some coffee and a couple of sausage and egg tortillas.
Despite taking turns driving and catnapping throughout the night, the warm food made Zach’s eyes heavy. “I need to get out and walk for a bit,” he announced.
“Good idea. Wouldn’t hurt to get the blood flowing from my ass to my brain.”
There was a city park not far away, a place where BB felt like the truck, and its arsenal within, would be safe from prying eyes. As the two men stretched their legs, Zach asked, “So if you were one of the most powerful drug kings in the world, where would you hang your hat in this one-horse town?”
“Well now that’s the $64 question, is it not?”
“Normally I would assume this guy would be surrounded by luxury digs of the highest quality. From what I read though, El General is one smart cookie. He’s been the first of the major crime bosses to put together a super-cartel of sorts. He managed a ceasefire and has run this latest scheme like a maestro conducting an orchestra. I would think he would be wise enough not to flaunt his ass around town while there’s an all-out war brewing, especially one that his name written all over it.”
BB tilted his head, “So you’re saying we should start by searching the slums?”
The question made Zach grin. “No, I don’t think we need to go to that extreme just yet. Tampico is a lot bigger place than I imagined. I had it in my head that we would just drive around, looking for a bunch of gangsters riding around in black SUVs and follow them back to the criminal mastermind’s lair.”
“Should we go visit my friend the cop?”
The ranger had already considered contacting BB’s acquaintance, finally concluding that would be their last resort. Conducting a successful business transaction with a bounty hunter didn’t preclude the local officers from being on
someone’s payroll. “It’s not time yet. We just got here.”
With their circulation somewhat restored, they left the park and headed toward downtown. Zach had a thought, “If there was a civil war brewing in Texas, what would you be doing?”
BB pondered the question for a moment before answering, “I’d stock up on beans, bullets, and whiskey.”
“Exactly,” Zach said. “No matter where El General is going to ride out the storm, he’d need a goodly amount of supplies for his security detail and business entourage. It takes a lot of grub to feed 8-10 beefy bodyguards, a couple of señoritas, and a handful of middle management types. Maybe we should be checking the local grocery stores and seeing if anyone has noticed a bunch of heavily-armed guys buying several tons of food and tequila.”
“I’d think he’d also need access to good communications as well. If your snitch was right, and El General is hoping to pull off a coup, he would want to stay in touch with the boys. After all, he has to be able to issue orders if he wants to overthrow a government.”
Grunting, Zach nodded his agreement. “He’ll also want a back door … an escape route. One thing I learned about chasing Ghost all over the Middle East – the man always had a Plan B that is damn near as good as the first choice.”
“Airport?” BB pondered. “A hacienda near a waiting plane?”
Zach nodded, “Or a hotel suite close to the runways. Still, that would expose the man to a lot of eyeballs. I wonder if there’s any way to find a list of all of the private airstrips around Tampico?”
“What we need is some local expertise,” BB said. “Let’s go visit my friend.”
Still having his doubts, Zach disagreed. “Let’s drive around a bit more, and let me think this through. We’ve only been in town a few hours.”