The Devil's Syndicate

by Chris Draper

  Crocodiles. Two of them. Their large green snouts and massive ruby red eyes getting closer to the boat by the minute.

  Hawk looked back, saw Clyde was starting to make his way back to the side of the boat, looked back at the two crocodiles and realized Clyde wouldn't make it back in time at the pace he was going.

  “Crocodiles up ahead!” Hawk yelled. “Get moving!” Hawk yanked the lever on his rifle, loading up a round, took aim at the first crocodile that was 3 metres away and prepared to shoot.

  Clyde rushed to the side of the boat, panting now, and was just about to grab onto the side when he felt his left leg get stuck in something on the lake's floor. He looked down and saw vines. His leg was caught in an entanglement of heavy green vines growing underneath the marshland. He yelled “Shit!” and dunked his arm in the water, trying to loosen the vines from his leg, cursing to himself the entire time. The vines were coiled around his left ankle like a boa constrictor and the harder he tugged at the them the tighter they became.

  “What's the problem?” Hawk yelled, keeping his rifle sights on the first croc that was now swimming beside the boat, its massive prehistoric body and undulating tail leaving ripples in its wake. “Get back in the damn boat already!”

  “My foot's stuck in some vines!” Clyde called, his voice becoming frantic. “I can't get it out.”

  Hawk knew there was no time left. He lined up the sights with the first crocs face, pulled the trigger and the bullet fired through the crocs right eye with a sharp thud. The croc coasted there a minute, its brain trying to figure out what had happened, then it sunk beneath the surface. Hawk then quickly loaded another round into the chamber, spotted the second croc moving in front of the boat to the other side where Clyde was.

  “Crocs moving your way!” He yelled and ran over to the other side.

  Clyde saw the two burning red dots of coal staring at him and thought he might be a goner this time. He raised his arms up in a battle stance and started swatting his hands towards the croc, punching and swatting the space in front of him to keep the leviathan at bay. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hawk moving to the side of the boat but then it all happened so fast. In an instant the croc clamped its heavy jaws onto Clyde's left arm and he felt a deluge of pain recoil through his body like a ten ton hammer. He yelled out once until the croc released its hold and saw blood flowing out of his arm staining the dark water in crimson.

  “Shoot it!” He yelled in agony at Hawk who was still cranking the lever on his rifle.

  “The damned rifle's jammed! Hold on a second!” Hawk tossed the rifle aside and jumped in the water behind the croc. Clyde's arm was bleeding bad and in desperation he grabbed the croc by the snout, felt the slippery scales in his palm, and pushed it away a foot then rammed his right elbow into its skull twice. It thrashed around in the water for a second, splashing water all over and Clyde grabbed it by the middle, trying to hold it down but then it threw him off with such force that his foot came lose from the vines and he was flung backwards into the water. Hawk was at the rear of the croc now, trying to grab the swinging tail that kept lashing around like a sword, then withdrew his knife from his ankle holster and tossed it over to Clyde who was now getting back up.

  “Heads up!”

  Clyde saw the wide arc of the blade and caught the handle in mid air with his right hand, then with one fell swoop, lunged at the croc and plunged the sharp blade into the crocs head repeatedly until it shuddered in a final death throe and sank into the murky waters below.

  Clyde was lucid, said, “It got me man, it got me bad...”

  Hawk took one look at Clyde's arm, threw off his rain coat, took off his shirt, and wrapped it around Clyde's arm in a tight tourniquet to try and stop the bleeding.

  “We gotta get you back on the boat.” He said and guided Clyde through the water, helping him back over the side.

  He looked around one last time to make sure there were no more crocodiles and didn't see any then came up behind Clyde on the boat. When they were back in the boat, Clyde sat down and was still breathing hard as Hawk unloaded his rifle, put it back in the case.

  “We should go back for help.” Hawk said closing the case and putting it to the side. “That cut you have there doesn't look good.”

  “No we're too close now.” Clyde said shivering. “It could take us days to get back in this rain.”

  “But you're hurt bad, that could get infected.”

  “It's not as bad as it looks.” Clyde said holding the tourniquet on his arm. “I just overreacted when I saw all that blood, it didn't go through the bone or nerves – I can still move my hand.”

  Clyde moved his left arm arm up and down, flexing the fingers. “I'll take you the rest of the way there and then go back to Imokalee. There is a doctor there that Abji knows, he can fix me up until I get back to Aldwell.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I didn't bring you this far to go back now.” Clyde was firm. “We gotta keep moving, I'll be alright after I calm down a little. I think it's just a flesh wound.”

  “Okay but maybe I should drive the boat the rest of the way.”

  “You ever driven one before?”

  “Yeah I got a houseboat back home, and I've been watching you drive it. I think I can figure it out.”

  “Be my guest.” Clyde scooted over on the seat and let Hawk get behind the controls, then Hawk started up the engine and felt the boat start to move forward. Clyde wrapped a blanket around himself and smiled at Hawk but Hawk could tell he was still shaken up by what had happened. Hell, so was he even. He'd never actually witnessed a crocodile attack before besides in the movies and the real deal nearly scared the shit out of him.

  “You know,” Hawk said with a smile. “This has got to be about the best damn boat tour I've ever been on.”

  “Well I hope you'll write me a good review for it,” Clyde said. "But maybe leave out the crocodile bit. Not sure that would go over too well with the tourists and all.”

  “Maybe you could market yourself as a tour for the adventurous. You know, people love that kind of stuff these days.”

  Clyde laughed, “Yeah I'd have to get them all to fill out paperwork first. But who knows, maybe someday.”

  They drove on for another 30 minutes and Hawk checked his phone and saw that it had water damage and would not turn on. This concerned him as now he would have no way to reach someone if he needed to including Wagner. He prayed that when he got to where he was going there would be some way of communicating with the outside world or else he would have to improvise something. The intensity of the storm was increasing and the winds whipped the airboat around like it was a water raft.

  Hawk looked at Clyde and saw that some of the blood was starting to soak through the wet shirt. Although Clyde had said it was just a flesh wound, he wasn't so sure. He had put on a newer shirt out of his duffel bag and even with that and his raincoat on he still felt a shiver to the bone.

  “Let's see that map again.” Hawk said keeping his eyes on the lake ahead and Clyde handed it over. The paper was getting wet so Hawk had to shield it with his left arm as he continued to steer the boat ahead. They both looked at the giant red X again marked on the map and Clyde said, “We should be there by now. This is the area Abji marked on the map. Slow down a little so I can keep a look out.”

  Hawk slowed the boat down, cut the engine, and let it drift slowly in the lake. They both swung their eyes and heads around, looking in all directions, listening for something – anything that would prove that Abji was right. But all they saw was more trees, more marshland and all they heard was the rain pounding sheets into the boat and the lake surrounding it. Hawk started to worry. Could Abji have been wrong?

  He let the boat coast a little further around a corner and thought he saw something through the rain in the distance but couldn't be sure. He squinted in the direction then pointed towards it. “Look over there!” Hawk shouted and Clyde took out a pair of binoculars from his canvas bag and looked
through them in the direction he was pointing. There was something there all right. About 90 yards ahead behind some trees he saw a grey brick structure with moss growing on the sides. It looked like it had been slowly taken over by the forest around it and looked out of place for the area.

  “Well I'll be damned.” Clyde said looking through the binoculars, then handed them to Hawk. “Have a look at that.”

  Hawk took the binoculars, stared hard through the eye holes and shook his head in disbelief. “Looks like your friend was right. That's definitely something you wouldn't expect to see around here.”

  “You got that right.” Clyde said taking the binoculars back and looking through them again. “This area is so remote it's no wonder the park rangers never found it. I say if you're gonna get off you'd be best to do it now. Up ahead the river turns a bit wild and looks like it inclines some. Wouldn't want to ruin the blades of my boat on some rocks.”

  “That's a good point.” Hawk said and started getting his gear ready. “Let me off as close as you can to the shore on the left and I'll head towards the building undercover of the trees in case there's any of those bad men Abji talked about hanging around.”

  “Okay. But how will you get back?”

  “I'll have to figure that part out later.” Hawk said. “Unless of course you want to come back this way after and see if I'm still around. I could pay you again for your time.”

  A smile spread across Clyde's face. “We might be able to work something out. I'll probably be closeby in Imokalee for a day or anyway but might have to stop home first.”

  “Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way.” Hawk nodded then looked down at Clyde's arm. “Sorry again about your arm, make sure to get it bandaged up as soon as you get back to Imokalee.”

  "I wouldn't worry about that, I've had worse injuries growing up in this part of the world. Now let's get close enough to shore so you can get off.” Clyde took over the steering wheel and used his right arm to let the boat coast slowly to the left bank of the shore. When he was about 5 feet away he let it stop and looked over at Hawk. “Think this is as close as we're gonna get, you're gonna have to wade in from here.”

  Hawk nodded then grabbed his duffel bag and rifle case, slung them both over his shoulder and extended his hand over to Clyde who shook it. “Thanks for the fun ride and get back safe. You gonna be okay to steer back?”

  Clyde smiled. “Just get going before I change my mind and decide to come with ya.”

  Hawk nodded, said so long and hopped off the boat and started wading slowly through the waters towards the shoreline. He could feel the intensity of the waters coming down from 50 yards ahead and had to hold on to some fallen branches to keep his balance. When he reached the bank of the shore he looked back, waved once more to Clyde and he waved back, then Clyde started the boat up and headed back in the direction from which they came. Hawk waited a few minutes until he was far enough then turned towards the direction of the grey building in the distance and started heading up stream through the green jungle. Now he was on his own.

  14

  “The cops still got nothing on us.” Byron Logan was talking to Randall who was sitting across from him in the living area watching the news. The news anchor on channel 3 was saying the police had persons of interest involved in the altercation from the night before when the Devil's Syndicate had been ambushed by the El Hombrez in Fort Lauderdale. Byron disagreed with what the report was saying and turned down the volume. “For all the police know what happened the other night was just a random gang war. Nobody saw our faces besides the El Hombrez so nobody knows it was us or somebody would have come forward already. Plus, if they did have something we would of heard about it from one of our insiders. You know we have a few cops we pay for information like that. And as for Chuck and Rafael, they had no prior history with the Syndicate so even if the cops do identify them there won't be any connection with us anyway.”

  “But the news story said...” Larry was anxiously looking at the TV on a wooden chair in the corner.

  “Nevermind what the news story said.” Byron cut him off. “They're fed a bunch of bullshit from people who think they know something and as of right now nobody knows jack shit. And don't forget they said the same thing about the warehouse robbery.” Byron stood up and flicked off the TV. “Besides we have bigger things to focus on right now anyway.”

  “Like Martinez and the El Hombrez?” Larry asked.

  “Exactly.” Byron said and walked over to a large metal table in the centre of the room. He motioned for Randall and Larry to follow and also called out the rest of the Syndicate in the compound to join them. Etaro, Stacey, Travis and the others slowly came over and stood by the table wondering what Byron had in store.

  “Listen up everyone.” Byron said looking around at the Syndicate. “As you know the El Hombrez killed two of our members the other night, not too mention they've been selling their garbage in our territory for too long. Luckily I think we have a solution to this problem that will put a stop to them once and for all.”

  He told Randall to fetch something from a backroom and he came back a minute later with a large piece of white paper rolled up with an elastic band. Byron took it, unrolled it on the table, and everyone looked down and saw a large hand drawn blueprint consisting of several rooms and hallways. The drawing was crude, drawn in thick red ink, but still managed to convey meaning with some small text denoting which each space represented.

  “What is this?” Stacey asked, cocking her head to one side to read some of the writing beside one of the rooms. “Pool room? I don't get it.”

  “It's the El Hombrez headquarters, Fiesta Lochez.” Byron said. “Remember the bar we visited to show them those weapons a few days ago?”

  “Ah okay that place, I remember it now.” Stacey nodded. “It looks a lot different on paper though.”

  “Of course it does, but anyway that doesn't matter.” Byron looked at everyone then back down at the blueprint. “I've been to that bar so many times throughout the years that I know every room, every exit, every corner of that stinkin' cesspool like the back of my head. I wrote up this blueprint the other day after our last visit while my memory was still fresh.”

  Larry chimed in excitedly, “I get it Byron, we're going to buy their bar aren't we? Then they'll have no place to go!”

  “Not by a long shot.” Byron said. “We're going to go pay them a visit tomorrow and sell them those weapons they wanted to buy from us.”

  “What?” Travis' mouth dropped a full inch from shock. “Why would we do something like that? They just killed our guys!”

  “I know that already!” Byron barked. “And you know what else? I'm even going to sell them all of the weapons they wanted to buy from us in the first place – maybe even throw in some freebies as well if I'm in a generous mood.”

  Travis was shaking his head, his face aghast. “But then they could just use them on us. Why would we do something like?”

  “Because the El Hombrez will never live long enough to use those weapons.” Byron looked at Travis and then Larry and then at each of them with such intensity that it caught them off guard. “Selling them the weapons will be a facade only, do you know what that means?”

  “A fac-sawed?” Larry looked puzzled

  “Yes, it means we go to Fiesta Lochez, feign a friendship we don't intend to keep, let them think they've won, maybe even show a little bit of camaraderie, and then...” Byron trailed off for a moment and his face turned into a sinister grin, one that showed off all of the creases on his face like a weathered road map. Each crease representing a different battle he'd won in his life with one space left vacant for this next battle that he knew he would win.

  “And then?” Larry's face was lit up now as was the rest of the groups. They fed off his words like starved wolves with a thirst they could never hope to quench.

  “And then we'll annihilate all of them. Destroy the El Hombrez and Martinez with the same weapons they think they're g
etting from us. And when we're done we'll burn that place so far into the ground it'll take the best archaeologists in the world to ever find it again.”

  For a moment everyone was silent and then a smile started biting at the corner lips of Travis Cheung. “Did you say all of them? But there's gotta be dozens of them. How can we guarantee they'll all be there?”

  “Because tomorrow is a very special day for the El Hombrez.” Byron looked serious. “Tomorrow is Martinez' birthday and every year the entire El Hombrez get together and celebrate this day at Fiesta Lochez. I went once years ago – it's a tradition they've never broken. This way we'll get them all together in the same place.”

  “I like it.” Etaro said nodding. “We'll hit them where it hurts most, at their own headquarters. They'd never expect something like that.”

  “But what if they do suspect something?” Travis asked. “We can't just walk in there like we don't know anything about what happened in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “And what would they suspect?” Byron said. “We'll go in there, say we have some guns to sell them, pretend we don't know a thing about what went down in Lauderdale. For all they know, all of our men who were there that night were wiped out or arrested anyway so we'd have no way of knowing it was them who did it. The news story didn't mention anything about the number of men killed or taken in.”

  “But what if they saw Randall leave?”

  “We already thought about that which is why Randall will wait outside until we need him. I'll tell the El Hombrez that we were attacked by a gang and that he was killed. I'll pretend that we don't know which gang it was, say that we think it was the Hellcats or the Troubadours or another Fort Lauderdale street gang.”