by Jim Dutton
Drury added, “Don’t mean to freak you fellas out. But the one thing to worry about is a Mama grizzly protecting her cub. If you see a cub near the trail, back away slowly and hope that you’re not between Mama and her baby. If a female or male grizzly starts paying close attention to you, don’t turn around and run. They will chase you down. They have bursts up to 35 miles per hour. Face them and make yourself look big. Even when they begin to charge, stand your ground. They often perform mock charges and turn off. If it looks for real, curl up in a ball, with your back to them, and your head tucked in underneath you. Play dead, even if the grizzly swipes at you and starts gnawing on you. It shouldn’t come to that. I have a 30 ought 6 that will stop a grizzly if my aim is true, and Zack is carrying some capsicum red pepper spray in a holster that does a number on their eyes and lungs. But the spray is only effective from within 15 feet. When one brings out the spray, it’s close encounter time.”
“Thanks guys for filling me in. That makes me feel a lot better. Can we go now and get out of this too natural wilderness?” asked Pepe.
They strapped into their aluminum snowshoes. Each pair had about an eight inch extension at the back end to disburse their weight over a larger area when they walked. The increased distribution kept their snowshoes from sinking as far into the snow. Zack led the way down the side of the mountain, following the summer trail. They walked past frozen creeks which were coming down the valley from the cirque of peaks. Ice formed on the surface of the creeks and along overhanging plants and rocks where water dripped. The water beneath the ice-surfaced creeks, still flowed.
Pepe called out to Zack ahead, “I thought bears hibernated when there’s snow on the ground.”
“For the most part, they do. Bears go into their dens after the first heavy fall snowstorm, but will come out in late spring while there’s still snow on the ground. Females with their cubs, come out a little later than the males. I have to take a quick piss. I’ll catch up with you.”
Pepe passed Zack and became the leader. He walked slowly, finding his way down the trail that was mainly covered by snow. He was singing some of his favorite pop songs, having read somewhere that you should make noise to let bears know you’re coming so as to not surprise them. Pepe’s out of tune medley was interrupted by a squealing ball of brown fur that came rolling down the mountain, onto the trail just below him. “Oh shit,” breathed out Pepe. He started backing up slowly, breathing rapid, shallow breaths as he looked around for Mama grizzly. The cub was still squealing as Pepe backed around a small curve in the trail. He began to breathe more normally, the sweat coming down his face lessened. He was thinking, Whew! That was so close, when he heard the loudest, deepest growl in his too short life. Pepe looked up to his left, in the general direction that the cub had come tumbling down, and saw Mama on her hind legs, seven feet tall and all of 500 pounds, staring at him. Her small, rounded ears were back, and throaty growls were emanating from her mouth. Pepe froze. His senses went on highest alert. He could count the teeth in her mouth from 20 yards away. He heard two pair of footsteps, quietly, but hurriedly, come towards him down the trail. Zack’s soft, but firm voice, echoed in his head, “Don’t move, don’t say anything. I have spray. Drury is coming up with the rifle.”
Zack’s soothing commands rocketed out of Pepe’s brain when 500 pounds of flesh got down off her hind legs, and rushed towards him. A yell in his ear, “Get down, protect your organs!” Pepe reacted immediately, dropped down and curled in a ball, his back facing the bear. The bear took a swipe at Pepe’s form with her right paw, slicing his parka and drawing blood from his upper right arm before the claw ripped through the pack. The grizzly lowered her head to nuzzle the blood coming from Pepe’s arm. He could feel hot globs of saliva dripping on him. Pepe’s silent mantra of please God was shunned aside by Zack’s guttural, primal shout behind him. The grizzly raised up to a full discharge of capsicum spray in her eyes and mouth from eight feet away. Zack’s arm, outstretched towards the bear, never wavered. The grizzly had to close her eyes and her lungs were burning. Mama grizzly heard the squeals of her cub behind her. She snorted, turned and went to her cub.
Zack looked at Drury who had his rifle still raised in the direction of the bear. “Why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“Initially, I couldn’t get a clear shot with the bear slobbering all over Pepe. Then, it seemed like you had everything under control. Also, who needs all the paperwork over a dead grizzly. I’d much rather take pictures of them than shoot them.”
Jerry went to help Pepe up. Pepe was shaking uncontrollably. “Steady Pepe, the bear and her cub have gone down the hillside. It’s safe to go on.
Pepe didn’t say anything other than murmuring a thanks to Zack. They walked back to the camp in silence.
At camp, Drury got out the medicine kit he carries when he’s fighting wildfires. “Pepe, we have to look at your claw wound and see if it needs patching.” Drury washed out the slash. Blood was still oozing slowly from the wound. It was two inches long and about a half inch deep. “Looks like you’re gonna need a few stitches. I’ve got a needle and some catgut.”
“Catgut? What are you talking about?” asked Pepe, with a skeptical look.
“Not to worry, it’s really strands of bovine intestines. I like it for its tensile strength when you are going to engage in physical activity. Just promise me, once I stitch you up with bovine intestines, you won’t stop on the walk out to graze.”
“I can promise you no grazing, but I’m stopping if I see a taco food truck.”
Zack raised his cup, “I’ll drink to that,” gulping down his vodka, Tang, and ice cube snow concoction. Zack handed Pepe a tin cup of the same. “Have a few swallows before Doctor Drury works his magic.” Drury went to work. A few minutes later, Pepe had four stitches on his upper right arm.
Pepe looked at his arm, surprised by how quickly and professionally Drury had stitched him up. “It looks like you’ve done this before. Have you had medical training?”
“Not really. A couple of first aid courses and stitching up about 100 or so of my fellow fire fighters over the years. My handiwork is usually rewarded with a free drink once we return to civilization.”
“You can count on at least one more,” said Pepe, with appreciation in his voice.
The sun was setting. Drury told Pepe and Jerry that he was sorry, but they needed to camp here for the night. It wasn’t safe to hike out the four miles to their vehicles in the dark.
Zack started a fire. He told them, “You city folk just relax. We’ll cook you up our specialty dinner. Those rations that Keme gave you, I wouldn’t even feed to the bear that tried to eat you.”
After their day of whale watching, strolling along the ocean cliffs, and savoring their picnic lunch, Nick and Ana went back to Nick’s apartment to pick up a bottle of wine. Nick wanted to surprise Ana by taking her to a Romanian restaurant, Cafe Bucharest, located downtown, in a basement in the Gaslamp Quarter. The restaurant allowed its patrons to bring their own wine for a reasonable corkage fee. He had just the wine. The family of an old high school friend had an upper end boutique winery, off the Russian River, north of San Francisco, near the coast. Their pinot noir had a national reputation, and could only be bought by getting on the winery’s mailing list. It was not sold in stores, and only a few restaurants had it for twice the retail price. The pinot, only a few years old, had a Robert Parker Jr. review of 98 out of 100. It was touted as a profound, modern classic, with floral notes and hint of sweet raspberries. The pinot was the most valuable item in Nick’s apartment, next to his stereo system. This night with Ana was vale la pena (worth the pain) of opening up his cherished bottle.
Nick knew from looking at Ana’s background check that her mother’s side of the family had emigrated from Romania. He hoped that having her full of comfort food laced with family memories might ease the recriminations to come from what he had to talk to her about. Ni
ck had called ahead and had reserved a small table in the far corner of the restaurant, with chairs on either side of a corner of the table, facing out.
Nick gently pushed in her chair. “I love this Nick. The low lights, the fire in the stone fireplace, and photos of my mother’s Romania on the walls.”
“It is very intimate. I like that there are only a dozen tables and no television hanging over the small bar. They each ordered a bowl of sour meatball soup and shared a stuffed cabbage appetizer. Ana went with a chicken kebab entree and Nick chose potato goulash with smoked sausage. They lingered over each bite, heads close together, sipping the pinot as they ate. After the second glass, Nick even imagined that he tasted the “hint of raspberries”. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t make out the “floral notes”. So much for being a wine snob. The bottle of wine was almost finished when the violinist came over to their table and asked what they wanted to hear. Nick usually shied away from restaurant minstrels, realizing a healthy tip would be liberated from his wallet. Not this time. The violinist was excellent, already having entranced other diners. Nick requested the theme from Dr. Zhivago. Ana reminded him of Lara, with dark hair, instead of blond. Beautiful, sensuous eyes as deep as darkened pools, and a fiercely independent woman. The violinist didn’t let them down. Nick graciously separated a ten spot from his wallet. They looked over the menu for dessert.
Jerry and Pepe pulled up stumps to sit close to the fire. The temperature had dropped to 10 degrees above zero. Zack handed them metal plates, icy cold to the touch. Jerry’s fingers stuck to the sides of the plate. He had to pull them off before some of his skin was permanently melded into the metal. Drury scooped out a brimming ladle full of the concoction percolating in the pot over the fire. Jerry’s penlight gave him a good look at what he was about to eat. Beans, cut up hot dogs, and melted cheese. Drury proudly exclaimed, “Yep, this is our staple; cut up Oscar Weiner dogs and barbecue beans, mixed in with melted Velveeta cheese. If you like, there’s some catsup over there. A splash of that and it’s high gourmet.”
“Isn’t Velveeta cheese that processed cheese that comes in a rectangular brick? asked Jerry, hesitantly.
“Sure is. Tastes great and you don’t have to worry about refrigeration,” replied Zack.
Pepe murmured under his breath so only Jerry good hear, “You really need to worry about refrigeration around here. We probably won’t have any long term effects from eating this. We we won’t live long enough to experience them.”
It actually tasted good. About anything would taste good in the cold and after what had happened, Pepe asked for more. “I gotta tell my Mamacita about this recipe. It might take over for homemade tamales during the holidays. Hell of a lot easier to make.”
Zack added, “You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait for dessert. We have ice cream for you. Not real ice cream, but the dehydrated kind. It’s lightweight. It’s the dessert astronauts eat in space.
Pepe tried to beg off. “Sorry guys, I only eat my ice cream with chocolate syrup and nuts on top.”
“You got to try this. Part of the mountain experience. Top off a fun-filled day of rappelling out of an helicopter, snowshoeing, being attacked by a grizzly, and eating the finest dinner one can have anywhere.”
“Okay Zack, you talked me into it. I forgot what a fine day I had.” Drury broke up an ice cream sandwich size rectangle into four pieces. Pepe took a long look at it. It looked like styrofoam with a chocolate cracker crust. He could barely feel the weight in his hand. It was as dry as a bone. No ice, no cream. He took a tentative bite. It did taste like ice cream. Amazing. The mountain air must be playing tricks on him.
After dinner, no one felt like talking much. Each was immersed in his own thoughts about what had happened that day. They all turned in just after 8:00—Pepe and Jerry looking ahead to 10 hours of fitful sleep in a cold sleeping bag, wrapped in a space blanket, on the hard ground, counting off the minutes before first light when they could get up and go.
The candle was burning down. It still gave them enough light to eat their desserts. Ana had the raspberry cheesecake while Nick tried not to gobble down a delicious apple tarte tatin with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream on top.
Nick couldn’t postpone his conversation with Ana any longer. “Ana, we need to talk about seeing each other after the indictment. It’s only a few weeks away.”
“What do you mean? What does that have to do with our relationship?”
“We can’t see each other like this until after the trial. I’ll be asking the grand jury to indict the cartel members with conspiracy to murder Felicia, and an aggravated assault against you, for the motorcycle shooting. If they indict, we can’t have the defense poking into our relationship. It could be the basis for recusing me from prosecuting this case. If they find out about our relationship, they’re going to argue to the judge that I have to be kicked off the case because I can’t “fairly” prosecute the case.”
“That’s bullshit. Anyone who knows you, realizes that you fairly prosecute cases no matter what. Even if your mother was on trial.”
“I wouldn’t go quite that far. But a judge can remove a prosecutor if it appears that he can’t prosecute the case in a manner that provides a defendant with a fair trial.
“Is this what the romantic picnic and dinner were about? Pulling at my heart strings, just to cut them off.”
Nick grasped her hands. His voice quavered as he looked her directly in the eyes, inches away, “I wanted the perfect day for us to last six months until this is over.”
“Ana’s eyes glistened with tears from anger and sadness. “It was the perfect day. It may last until we’re all through, maybe right now.” Nick didn’t say anything. He continued to look her in the eyes and with his right hand, gently stroked her shoulder. Minutes passed. A smile gradually spread across Ana’s face. “Well, if this is going to be the last day for a while, we may as well end it on a high note. You’re coming to my condo tonight.”
“How I love a woman who knows what she wants.”
Nick was on his knees over Ana. She was lying naked on her back in her bed. His hands were slowly circling over her stomach, a fraction of an inch from touching her. Ana’s skin reached up, seeking to touch his rotating hands. She could feel the energy between them. He moved his hands over her breasts, still barely not touching her. She yearned for his touch. He moved down her body, each hand traveling along the perimeter of her pelvis. Ana’s legs were spread, with her knees slightly bent. His hands caressed, now gently touching her inner thighs before moving down to her calves, focusing on the scar where she had been shot. They lingered there. Nick leaned over and softly kissed her scar, from one end to the other. He moved up her legs, kissing her inner thighs, just up to and around where she was dying to be touched. “Stop teasing me. I want you, I need you now inside me.”
“I always obey your desires, but not quite yet.” Nick moved to her breasts, softly biting one nipple, then the next. Ana arched her back, her pelvis rhythmically moving back and forth to Nick’s caresses.”
“Now, damn it!”
“Yes, now.” Nick plunged inside her. Both were lost to each other. Both were lost to the outside world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Pepe, I’m sorry about your misadventure in the wilds. You really shouldn’t go one on one with a grizzly protecting her cub. Grizzly bear wrestling isn’t your thing. Stick to something closer to home. Bullfighting maybe?”
“Thanks for the advice Nick. But, because of my wound, Drury told me to lay off bullfighting for awhile. My only sporting activity in the near future will be going to Chargers games. Remember, you owe me. I braved frigid weather, fierce animals, and processed cheese and beans to serve your damn subpoena.”
“He’ll be well worth it. Drury will be my first witness before the grand jury next Monday. He will set the tone. A courageous, self-sufficient man, fighting w
ildfires to keep our rural communities safe. A man who, without regard to personal safety, exposed an international drug distribution cartel. A man who stared down a gun barrel in his face to do his civic responsibility.”
“Hallelujah! Nick. Are you practicing your final argument for the jury trial? Remember, this is just the grand jury next week.”
“You’re right Pepe. I’m just trying to get in advocacy mode. I’ll tone it down for the grand jury. If your arm is all right, I want you to be my investigator, outside the grand jury, to help coordinate witnesses and troubleshoot.”
“No problem. The doctor said Drury did a good job stitching me up. He’ll take out the stitches in a week or two.”
“Can you send in Josh. We need to finalize our preparations for the grand jury.”
While Nick waited for Josh to come in, his thoughts turned to Ana. He wondered if he could really refrain from being with her until after the trial. Six months was a long, long time. It helped and hurt to see her at the office, talking with her. Putting on the professional facade, keeping her at arm’s distance, was hard. Josh walked in.
They went over the order of presentation of the evidence to the grand jury. They’ll start with the Montana drug smuggling. The next category of evidence will be the San Diego coast drug smuggling, followed by the evidence seized from the search warrants executed at the various cartel warehouses. Then there’ll be a series of witnesses about the Baja Norte Familia cartel. These include Mario recounting what accountant Sendow told him about the cartel and Luis’ compound in the hills near Rosarito Beach. Also, experts will testify about how the cartel operates, where they grow their poppies and process their heroin, and the hierarchy of the cartel. One of the forensic laboratory chemists will tie in all the heroin seized to the region of Mexico where the cartel grows its poppies. The next to last category of witnesses will be about the money laundering operations that facilitate the cartel in moving hoards of cash into the banking system. This portion of the grand jury presentation will be document intensive and rely heavily on summary charts prepared by the task force’s forensic auditor.