A long Lonely Road Box Set 3

by T J Reeder

  It was late in the afternoon when the scouts spotted dust on our back trail. Two hours later the lead scout team rolled into our camp and kept going. They would scout a few miles ahead and read the trail before coming back.

  Speaking for myself I was damn happy to see the convoy arrive. I will admit I let my emotions and worry about Charley interfere with my judgment when this clusterfuck started. Going off halfcocked gets people killed and I know that. But thanks to the quality of people we have it was OK now, we had enough fuel to stay a long time and shooters enough to wage a real war. They had brought everything including the kitchen sink.

  I was surprised to see several of the Hummers had Ma deuces mounted on them- the big 50 kicks ass and takes names. I asked whose idea that was and Joe pointed at Sandy and May. He said they were already loaded and rolling when the message came in.

  I looked at them and felt old for the first time in a long time. Joe slapped me on the shoulder and said, “John, you were worried sick over Charley and his group, hell we all were. It’s done and fixed so knock off the pity party or I’ll call them over here.” Now that made me laugh. God what a team, what a crew, what a family!

  Come daylight we got everybody lined out in the order we would roll with; scout teams out front and flanks, scouts on drag, Ralph in the air. Soft targets in the middle. We were now the most powerful fighting force in Mexico as far as I knew.

  Now to go find my brother. Charley had rolled down here to make contact with the Indians we had met with during the cannibal war. We had sent the leader of that filth back to his people, and I heard later he was a long time dying. Good, says I!

  Charley was going to get their help setting up a trade route thru their territory from Baja to where we crossed over; I planned to have a small well-armed fort there on the border. But after going on to Costa Rica and setting up the shipping route right into Texas ports we didn’t need this route, so I may have gotten my brother killed over nothing. I was sick again.

  Sandy was riding with me while May flew with Ralph, she leaned over and said, “Johnny, Charley is OK,. If he wasn’t you would know, May and I would know, his people would know. He’s OK, maybe in danger but what’s new about that?”

  I knew she was right and hearing it did help, but I will always have lingering doubts about my leadership abilities. It’s easier when it’s just me and the girls. But life ain’t easy anymore.

  On and on we plodded, seeing nothing nor anybody. It was like being on an alien planet, but even I could see we were gaining on the group ahead of us- the trail was very plain now.

  Then things went to shit. From a side road came several vehicle tracks, they had come across Charley’s tracks and took off after him. From their looks they weren’t military, but down here who knows? All we could do was grind on; we were as much as weeks behind whatever happened.

  I still knew Charley was light years ahead of these people (whoever they were) but shit happens.

  And it did. It happened to the people following Charley. Two days later we came upon the scene of a fire fight- well…maybe ‘fight’ was putting too much on it. We found three Suburbans shot to pieces. We stopped while our scouts put it together. Their report was that Charley knew he was being followed, so they looped around after setting up a night camp with small fires in a gully.

  They moved out on foot and set up on the rim of a low spot where the road dipped down. The followers rolled right into it and got lit up big time; the scouts had dismounted their 60’s and used them well! They took time to finish the survivors and round up everything useful and left the rest for the buzzards. We found bones and that was about it. I had to assume Charley knew who

  and what was following him to pull off a night ambush- he wouldn’t have done that if there was a chance of innocents being involved.

  The good news was our side won, the bad news was that a few days later a new group rolled in and then took off after our people. This was starting to turn into something more than I expected. It implied a force that was patrolling the area for some reason. I didn’t think it involved drugs since there wasn’t the customers up north there used to be, but it could be part of the slavers.

  We had no idea of knowing just how big the slave business was, but if this was any part of it then it was gonna end here and now.

  If need be we would call out our entire force, artillery, Brads and all, as well as the Texas bunch. This shit was gonna stop if it meant taking the entire fucking country and making it a part of Texas. Most of the folks down here had been trying to get to America, so maybe we would just bring America to them.

  The girls were happy because with the chopper they could shoot up the countryside from the air. Jasper said they could fight over the right side gun but by god stay away from his.

  I’m afraid they might push him out when the chopper is taking off, but he’s no dummy- he attaches his safety line first thing and keeps an eye on them. They glare at him and he laughs at them.

  The chopper makes more noise than the plane but it’s much better for this kind of work. Ralph is bitching because Sandy loaded several cases of her glass bombs aboard. He did insist on no fuel bombs; I think Sandy gave in too easy. Poor Ralph.

  The scouts say we are gaining on Charley and his stalkers. I’m wondering why he hasn’t hit them like the first bunch. I guess we will know that when we know it.

  Finally one morning Ralph called to say he could see some kind of camp ahead and was staying way back. He said it looked like cook fires. The scouts headed right out and called back an hour later for us to come on in.

  It was a group of the same Indian tribe we had dealt with before. They didn’t know us but knew who we were. The scouts were able to piece together what they knew, which wasn’t much. The gist of it was that Charley and his bunch had been here only a few days ago and had headed on into their tribal lands. They said he was luring the people behind him into a place to deal with them since they were very bad people who stole young girls to sell.

  It still didn’t explain where he had been all this time unless he went all the way to Baja and back. That made sense in a way- he was here so why not make sure there was a way to get to the coast?

  From what our scouts could gather, the force chasing Charley was about 75-100 shooters, meaning Charley was outnumbered by a lot.

  But then again he was Charley and his people were better than any bunch of slavers. Sandy was chomping at the bit to get going. She was afraid it would be over before we got there, crazy broad! That got me a smile.

  I was still trying to puzzle out why Charley was wandering all over this place; it’s not like it’s a tourist trap. Also I was wondering just why the slavers were after Indian girls? It’s not like there isn’t a lot of very nice young Mexican girls that would be easier to catch. It just don’t make any sense. I understand (in a way) the value placed on white girls in a brown girl world, but this I don’t get.

  From the tracks we are following the scouts say we are closing the gap really fast. I see sand-filled ruts, they see a book of information. That’s why they are scouts and I’m just another gun thug.

  Also I wanted to know why Charley was not using his communications gear, unless he thinks he’s being tracked- which I find very hard to believe. Who in the world would give a shit about radio signals out here in the butthole of the planet? That’s harsh, but it’s the truth. Why anybody would live out here is beyond me, unless they are trying to avoid contact with others.

  Which, in fact, the Indians of this area have done since the Spaniards fucked up the country, so why is this ‘cat and mouse’ shit going on?

  The best way to find out is to locate Charley and ask him. That’s Ralph’s job. I want my brother/friend out of this place and I want to be home with my family. Hell, we all do. It seemed we had just got a shower and then left again.

  I told Ralph to fly high and look for anything that might not belong here. I also sent two scouts with him, prepared to get out and move on foot if need be,
plus they would spot anything that stood out in the slightest.

  And bingo! It paid off! One of the scouts spotted something and they flew lower. It wasn’t what I wanted to find. It was the scene of a firefight and among the shot-up vehicles was a Hummer, one of ours! I was now sick.

  The two scouts jumped out with little more than weapons and water and some dry rations. Ralph said they disappeared before he could pull up from his hover. They are good at that.

  Ralph flew back for fuel and two more scouts. I wanted to go so bad but I would be worthless to them, not to mention being a liability.

  The day grew longer and longer until it was getting too dark for Ralph to see anything. He dropped off two scouts to follow up the first two and headed back to our night spot.

  He told us that area was covered with tire tracks; all made since the firefight that took place. He said it wasn’t our people making the tracks. So who are these phantoms? They leave tracks but we see nothing but their shot-up vehicles and bones. Tomorrow we are heading right for that fight location because I need to see it. I feel useless as a one legged Marine in an ass kicking contest.

  During the night we got probed. They were good but our scouts were better. Nobody saw anything to shoot at but they were circling all around each other out there. Come daylight a scout team headed out on the track of the intruders but lost them two miles away when they mounted up in a vehicle and drove away.

  I’m now officially tired of this shit! And it’s gonna stop. I sent Ralph up with Jasper and two scouts with orders to locate these mystery people. And he did. They were holed up in a canyon about twenty miles away from our direction of travel. They caught them with their pants down; three Suburbans and about 18 men sitting around a fire just chilling out.

  And there came Ralph right over their little party. They started shooting, but Jasper was right on them and hosed them. Ralph turned and the scout on the other door gun took out their transportation. Now they were on foot and we were rolling.

  It took all morning to close with them but we made it, and soon had them bottled up. When I first looked over the crest of the hill down into the small canyon I saw their vehicles and a lot of bodies but nothing was moving. We started moving in and came under fire right away but we expected that and returned heavy fire on their locations, pinning them down while our side leapfrogged in close.

  One of the scouts yelled out in Spanish for them to surrender if they wanted to live and got laughed at for his trouble.

  One of the many things we had collected thru our travels was an old M-79 grenade launcher aka the Bloop gun. It was the ‘Nam era grenade launcher of fame because it made a bloop sound when fired. The girls had about wore it out playing with it- I watched them chasing another poor jackrabbit with it one day so I hid it and paid for that for about a week.

  We dug it out and they took turns lobbing a few rounds into their area. They were pissed that they didn’t get in on the chopper attack on these shitheads so the thumper made up for it….a little. But it brought them out, hands up.

  They were a mixed bag of trash: Some looked like drugstore cowboys- pointy toed boots with shiny bling on the toes and heels, and some looked like peasants from a Poncho Via movie. All looked scared shitless.

  There was only five of them surviving the fight; their wounded had been left to bleed out. Nice guys.

  As per protocol we split them up and started asking questions, then compared the answers. The peasants knew nothing and it was obvious they were conscripts who just wanted to get out of this alive; willing to help but knowing squat.

  The two Cowboys were a different breed of rat. Both were more than they wanted us to know, but their arrogance and aura of entitlement showed thru too much.

  I walked over to them and speaking English, said, “OK lads- just who are you and what’s going on out here in Indian country? Why are y’all chasing my people?” They both just looked at me so I had the scout ask again in Spanish. Still no answer, so I asked the scout with a wink to go get the scout whose brother had been killed by these assholes.

  He smiled and took off at a run. I had the attention of these two now (meaning they spoke English just fine).

  The scout returned with one of the biggest and meanest looking Navajo scouts I could ever remember seeing. He came to me, smiled a completely evil smile and said “You want to see me, John?” I said, “Yeah, these two don’t want to talk to me so I thought you might try, since I know you’re so broke up over the murder of your brother.”

  He smiled even bigger and said, “You mean I get them?” I nodded and said, “Yeah, but leave them able to talk, OK?” He laughed and said, “Thanks, John!”

  Now the two tough guys were looking very worried and when the big guy grabbed one by the hair and jerked him to his feet they got terrified! He shoved the one around some boulders out of sight and within seconds a blood curdling scream echoed in the canyon and frankly scared the shit out of me. Hell, I think it scared Sandy which is hard to do.

  Things were quiet for a bit, then the scream came again lasting longer and turning ragged at the end. I had no doubt at all that the prisoner was being hurt gravely but I couldn’t show weakness.

  The big scout came back into sight and said, “He was weak and passed out, so I’ll start on this one” and that broke the dam. The guy started babbling so fast it took me a minute to realize he was speaking English.

  He said they had been hired by former cartel bosses to keep this area locked down tight- meaning no cross border traffic period. He said our other people had been here for a while before anybody spotted their tracks. That turned it into a running firefight which hadn’t been going well for his side…point of fact the quality of the people he had left- poor people who had never touched a weapon but were fighting for food for their families.

  He, on the other hand, was a cartel gunman and always had been. He said all he knew was that the bosses had something going on in this area they didn’t want anybody knowing about. And to that point they had been killing everybody they found in the area including the Indians who have been here for a thousand years.

  He was very unapologetic about his role in these deaths; he wasn’t talking to walk, he was hoping for a fast bullet instead of the Indian’s knife. I headed for the rock pile where the other guy was and found him nursing a hand with missing fingers. He too, started talking as fast as he could and echoed the story the first one told, but he too had no knowledge of who they were helping cover for.

  I had no intention of harming the poor men who had more or less been forced to be soldiers in the cartel army. But what to do with them? In the end we took them with us, flex-cuffed in the back of one of the six-by’s with a scout guarding them.

  The two cowboys were a different breed of cat and needed to be put down. The big scout came to me and made the suggestion that we turn them over to the local Indians who had been the target of these people.

  I liked it- payback is a bitch and they had earned it. I asked the scout how we could make contact with the locals. He smiled and pointed at a nearby hill where several people stood. They looked more like movie Apaches then modern-day Indians, but then again they were living a few centuries behind us.

  The scout headed out to them and after a short talk returned with several of them. Now the Cartel gunmen were screaming for a bullet. I was tempted, but I knew these bastards had killed and raped their way into this moment so I had no mercy.

  The locals talked with the scouts in a mix of Spanish and some Navajo and I think Apache. Point being they got the message. I also offered them the guns we took from the thugs. They nodded and gathered up everything they wanted from the pile of gear and left dragging their prisoners.

  The ones in the truck were scared to death and I doubt they could have moved if allowed to go free. Hell, I would have been terrified too.

  Well, we knew a bit more than we did before, but still not enough. Then one of the scouts came up and said the Indians had told him the people we wer
e looking for were a day’s travel west and south on this track and they had wounded who needed care. I have no idea how they would know what was going on miles away but in ten minutes I was in the chopper with Ralph, a full medical team and Sandy and May on the guns. We were a bit

  Overloaded, but we were all going and that was that.

  We took off and burned the sky following the track deeper into the mountains looking for any sign of our people. In the end it was them who found us. We spotted a smoke grenade ahead and headed for it, then we spotted a scout who pointed into a feeder canyon. We eased into it and landed. When the dust settled there was Charley standing there, blood on his clothing and his left arm in a sling. He was smiling, actually smiling! I was off the bird and gentle-hugged him in a second flat.

  He looked into my eyes and said, “I see you my brother.” I repeated the words to him. Sandy and May were right there just standing until Charley reached out and hugged them one at a time.