Guilty Until Proven Innocent

by L S Barron

  Ends up she took a liking to all the guys, regardless that there pasts had landed them in prison for life. Johnny had been part of a gang in Denver and when he was just a young man he took the blame for a drive by shooting that the gang was involved with. Basically he was the fall guy for the gang, but he said he was there and just as much to blame as the guy that pulled the trigger. He was young and wished he could take it all back, but he can’t so he joined the program to try to do some good with whatever life he had left. Scott had the personality of what Becca had thought he looked like, a nerdy kind of guy. He in fact was a technology geek. He ended up in prison also at a young age after hacking into some government files and selling them for money. Becca didn’t know all the details, but did know that whatever it was it cost him a life sentence. Kai, didn’t talk much. He just listened. He would quietly laugh at the rest of us and mainly just watched our interactions. Johnny had said that he had a rough go of it on his last mission and hasn’t been the same since. Officers Randale and Brady were exactly what they looked like, ex Navy Seals.

  First Mission

  After the six months of training, Officer Randale showed up at Becca’s cell door early one morning. “Its time,” he said. “I know you’re up on the news. You know we have been involved with the aid to the Contras that was suppose to be cut off this year. Well it is not. A C-123 transport plane, Southern Air Transport, one of ours was shot down by Nicaragua.” He went on to explain that the plane made it out of Nicaraguan airspace, but went down in a jungle area of Guatemala. The CIA had the GPS coordinates of the suspected crash site. This would give them a head start reaching the area. He told Becca that the whole area of Central America would be on high alert and would be expecting American military to make a run for the plane. This is why Becca would be perfect for the job.

  Becca would enter Guatemala as a Christian Aid worker helping with a ministry not far from the area that the CIA knew the plane went down. Who would suspect her of being any kind of threat. Once in the country she would take to the jungle with the assignment of finding the crash site, checking for survivors, only three CIA operatives, and if possible save what cargo she could. Lastly, she would need to leave no recognizable evidence, in other words she was to blow it to bits. Time was extremely important so there was no time to waste, she must leave now.

  Randale explained “The initial cargo was military weapons that were meant to help the Contras, and as you have heard on the National news, we are supposedly no longer participating in any of this. The return cargo may contain contraband.” Becca looked at Randale with a puzzled look, “Contraband, you mean like drugs or drug money? And I understand if I can’t get any cargo out destroy it?” He shook his head yes. “So I could just smoke some weed if I can’t carry it out?” she laughed. “Yes, but I don’t think its that kind of drugs. Might be something a little too strong for you,” he said with a smirky grin. He handed her a packet and told her to read it over on the flight there. He also told her that anything she might need, like explosives would be loaded in a pack for her on the plane. She would be driven to a private airport where there would be awaiting a private plane. He also threw her a dress, some girly shoes and a hair ribbon. “Wear this.” He reminded her of one last thing “Remember you have a GPS chip in your neck, not that I think you would, but no running.”

  The plane taking Becca to her destination was actually pretty nice. To Becca it seemed like a very plush plane with reclining leather seats and dining tables on one side. The other side had a long couch and a little minibar. The interior reminded Becca of something from a fancy hotel. Before taking her seat she pulled out her suitcase to take a look. On the top was a bible and some more girly clothes. “What? I suppose this will be good to wear roaming through the jungle,” she laughed to herself. She already thought she looked like a preacher’s wife or something. However, as she dug through her luggage she found a false bottom and under that was her Khaki pants, some hiking boots, and good ole t-shirts. Most importantly though there was a handgun, a GPS, some C-4 with detonators, and a few grenades. Becca could feel her own pulse pounding in her neck. “This is kinda cool, no this is really cool,” she thought.

  Next Becca opened up the large yellow envelope with instructions. It had her fake passport, a drivers license, a credit card, some money, and a Mission for Christ Academy ID card. The included instructions were simple. It gave her the coordinates of the crash site, instruction on cargo recovery, and on site destruction. If possible after destroying the crash site, she was to try to get the cargo to the Mission for Christ School. The missionary in charge was expecting Becca and would help. The instructions said that there was no need to expect survivors. It also stated that it was of utmost importance that Becca be the first one to the scene. The site was not to fall into the wrong hands.

  As Becca sat there going through everything in her mind over and over again, getting more nervous each moment, the front cockpit door opened and out walked Officer Randale. He was dressed in a commercial pilot’s suit. Becca thought that he looked pretty handsome in his new attire. “You didn’t really think I was going to leave you on your own the whole way, did ya?” he said. “Captain Randale,” she said trying not to seem too excited to see him, “I didn’t think you could come on this operation because you would be suspect?” she said. “Only as the pilot, that as far as I can go, but I will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

  “It’s Jack, buy the way. You can call me Jack,” he said as he gave her that smurky little smile. “But only here, not back at training.” “Nice to meet you Jack,” she replied back. She chuckled a little in her usual way and motioned for him to sit down. For the remainder of the flight the two would talk about their lives. It would be the first time that either would really get to hear about each other’s personal lives. Jack was indeed an ex Navy Seal. He started his Navy career at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis. He later became involved with the Navy Seals. Becca found though that he didn’t like to talk about what he did as a Seal. After he had enough of his Navy career, he signed up to help with this CIA program. He told her that originally he signed up because he had seen too many fellow Seals killed on missions that could have been done by people like her, people that had been sentenced for some great wrong doing and shouldn’t matter. However, he went on to explain that it ends up just as hard once you get to know someone, even if they did deserve life in prison.

  Becca told Jack about her previous life, but she could tell he already knew most of it. She looked at him crossly. “All in your file,” he said. “Oh yay, does the file say that I am really innocent too?” She looked at him seriously just for a moment then smiled like she was joking. She wasn’t though and it made her wish all over again that someone would believe her. He just laughed and said “nice try Becca.” “Goodluck on your first op,” he said, “and be safe. See you back here soon.”

  Jack had made his way back to the cockpit as the plane had started its descent into a private airstrip near the Mission. Upon landing, Becca found an old jeep and a driver waiting for her. There was no security, which made things easy for Becca. She wondered why all the worry about sneaking her in. Seemed harmless to her. The driver, a polite local man helped her load her bag and assisted her into the jeep, like she was a helpless fragile woman. “Yay, right,” she thought, but she played along. The driver spoke some broken english and told her it would be an hour drive on some not so good roads. He told Becca “for some reason, mucho ejercito in the area, busy like abejas.” Becca was glad now she got to practise a little of her spanish and she knew that the driver was telling her there was a lot of army activity in the area, that they had been busy like bees. She knew why, they were on the watch for american military, she was sure of that.

  Sure enough they came across a checkpoint. “Just stay calm,” she told herself . “You’re just a nice missionary worker headed to the Mission Academy, a school the missionaries ran for the impoverished local kids.” It was located just on t
he edge of a small village. The driver knew one of the men who had stopped us at the checkpoint. Becca listened to their conversation and realized the man was asking the driver if she was a worker for the Academy. He was telling him that she was just the new teacher they had been waiting for. The man said that they were ordered to check everyone so he had to take a look. Becca felt a bit of panic, but managed to just sit there like it was nothing. The man looked through the jeep and to Becca’s horror he opened up the suitcase. Becca could feel her heart pounding, “What would she do?” However, the man opened the bag and saw the women’s clothes and the Bible, thank God for that Bible, and quickly dismissed it as nothing closing it back up. He then motioned us through the checkpoint.

  They arrived at the mission with no further problems. The head missionary was there waiting for Becca. He showed her to her room and asked if she needed anything. She looked at him in a way that he knew that all she wanted was a prayer for her safety. “Good night then,” he said in a fatherly way. It somehow comforted Becca for what she knew lie ahead.

  There was no time to waste. After freshening up in the restroom, she changed into her work clothes and boots. Loaded up her gear in a small backpack that was conveniently placed on her bed along with two canteens, a flashlight, and a machete that she assumed was for clearing back the jungle foliage. She then turned on the GPS, plugging in the coordinates 17, 13, 20.54 N 89, 39, 25 W. Then as quickly as she had arrived, she was out the door and down a small dirt road that seemed to be headed in the right direction.

  Luckily the moonlight was bright enough that night that she could see well enough on her own. The dirt road soon turned into a footpath, but she would try to stay on that as long as she could. She estimated that the destination on the GPS was close enough that she would reach it before morning. It was a noisy place, the jungle at night and Becca found it kind of creepy. The thought of being in the jungle alone was more frightening to Becca than the thought of an all out battle with local militia.

  The footpath soon dwindled into nothing but thick jungle foliage. Thank goodness for the machete, it was definitely needed now. Becca was determined to reach her destination so she pressed on quickly. She could feel branches cutting and poking through her skin as she pushed through the brush, but the adrenaline made nothing so minor matter. Every so often she would hear a crunching under her boots, as she wondered how many bugs she was crushing along the way. She didn’t like bugs. She laughed to herself “Really you’re on your first dangerous mission and all you can think about are the bugs.”

  Even though it was evening the sweat rolled down the side of Becca’s face. She found the jungle to be hot and humid, especially since she came from Colorado. The undergrowth had grown even thicker as Becca made her way, following only the blinking light on her GPS. She concentrated on moving forward through whatever natural breaks in the foliage she could find. She knew that if it wasn’t for the handy GPS she would most likely be walking in circles.

  Becca came to a ravine and crossing it was no easy matter. She would have to use any of the vegetation that was growing along the slopes of the ravine to make her way down, grabbing at any vine or branch that would lend some help. Getting back out was even harder as every couple of steps forward, she would slide back at least one. This was no easy matter with a heavy pack on, but Becca trudged on towards her destination. Finally, she could smell smoke now and it wasn’t the odor of woods burning, but it had an odor like an electrical fire. She knew she was in the area. Finally she found the crash site. There was scattered debris among the broken and torn brush. Becca turned on the flashlight, feeling she was deep enough in the jungle to keep the light hidden. The C-123 had cleared a wide path through the forest, making it easy to spot the fuselage amongst the wreckage. The fuselage was still mainly intact.

  Becca checked for survivors first. She found both pilots of the plane dead in the cockpit, but she knew there was suppose to be three CIA agents on board the plane. She worked her way around to the back of the main cargo hold where she found the third agents mangled body at the back of the wreckage, also dead. “Well there was no need to worry about getting any survivors out,” she thought to herself. Even though she should have felt bad, it was actually a relief to know she wouldn’t have to worry about getting anyone out of the country.

  Now to the next item on her list, salvage any cargo that she could. After moving some metal debris out of the way she was able to enter the back of the cargo hold. There were two crates still intact. She also found two duffle bags marked Southern Air Transport, most likely belonging to the two pilots. There was also one suitcase still intact, most likely belonging to the third agent. Becca started with the larger crate prying it open with a metal piece of the wreckage. She slid the top to the side and looked in “Holy Shit,” she said aloud when she saw the bags of white powder. She guessed it was cocaine. She wondered “Why does the CIA have a crate full of drugs?” “Well, no getting this out anyway. I’ll have to burn it when I destroy the wreckage,” she thought. Laughing “The CIA shouldn’t have this anyway.” Becca then moved on to the next crate. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed again. This crate was full of money. “Now this is worth saving,” she told herself. She could empty out the two duffle bags and fill them with whatever money they would hold. She wasn’t sure though if it would even make a dent in what seemed to be a huge amount of money, more than she had ever seen before.

  She peeked outside again to make sure there was still no signs of anyone around and when satisfied that all was well, she continued with her work. First she emptied the two duffle bags that were full of mainly clothes and one gun, which she kept. Then she glanced at the suitcase thinking that maybe she could use that. As she reached for the suitcase, she noticed it was unusually heavy. It took both hands to drag it out of the wreckage. She opened it up and started pulling out the clothes, but after removing the tops clothes. She found something else. “Wow, that wasn’t listed on her ops papers as any part of expected cargo.” She thought back to make sure. “No, no mention of gold bullion. That would be hard to forget.” Becca picked up one bar to recognize it as a one ounce Suisse bar with the Lady Fortuna on the front and 999. fine gold on the back. She reckoned there had to be at least fifty pounds of gold. She wondered why in the world the agent had his own personal suitcase full of gold. “He had obviously made some kind of deal on his own,” she thought.

  Thoughts of what to do with the gold, the money, and how to take care of the crash site raced through Becca’s mind. She didn’t have a lot of time so her actions would have to be done quickly. Finally, she decided on her best plan of action. She took the gold in the suitcase and buried it in a spot not too far from the area, but far enough. It was in some thick brush with a rocky outcropping that would be hard to access and not as likely to be found. It had to be close enough not to cause any suspicion to those CIA operatives who may be tracking her GPS. Becca thought if they did know and asked about the gold she would act as if she buried it to keep it safe for them because it obviously would be too much to carry out, but if they didn’t ask she thought that maybe someday it would come in handy if she did happen to ever get out of this mess.

  Next she filled the two duffle bags with all the money she could, realizing that she would not be able to carry it all, the rest would have to be burned along with the drugs. Then she dragged the third agents body inside the fuselage to make sure it would also burn. She then went through the cockpit and took any papers and threw them in with the drug and left over money pile. Quickly she scanned the rest of the area to make sure there was nothing important that would also need destroyed. If she was unsure, she just threw it in the fuselage with everything else.

  Becca had noticed that one of the fuel tanks was leaking. She gathered some of the fuel in a curve piece of metal from the wreckage and poured it over the pile of drugs, the leftover money, and the bodies. Lastly she set her C-4 charges in several locations of the plane. The timers she was given would only give her two minu
tes, so before setting them she walked out a ways with her pack and the two duffle bags of money. This would give her a chance to run a good distance before the explosion, yet she would still be close enough to know that it had done its job. The hard part would be getting back to the Mission Academy without being noticed, knowing that the explosion would surely bring a lot of activity. Finally she started the timers and took off on a full out run towards her bags.

  The explosion went off in the night sending up a great fire ball into the dark sky of the jungle. Becca stopped and turned to admire her work. “Pretty good for my first work and kind of beautiful in the night’s darkness,” but as the initial fire died down she realized she was wasting time. She started off again as quickly as she could carry her pack and the two bags. The bags seemed light to her, until the adrenaline wore off, then she realized just how heavy they were. She knew though that she must continue on and quickly so that she could beat any in-coming militia, guerillas, or whoever else might be in the area.

  She reached the dirt road at dawn and could see the Mission Academy not to far off. She decided to hide the two bags in the brush along side the path, until she could figure out what she was suppose to do with them. She knew the head missionary was there to help her, but she wasn’t sure just how involved he was yet. So until she figured things out, she would let the bags stay hidden.