The Team's Return (A Team book Book 2)

by S G Read

  ‘Where?’ Simon asked.

  ‘The hotel is that way!’ Stuart pointed past the tree the helicopter had just clipped. ‘We've walked it before so we can do it again!’

  They ran to the opening at the edge of the field as the other helicopter swooped over the tree.

  ‘What if they follow us?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Then it's plan B.’ Stuart answered.

  Ben's reply was drowned by the clatter of machine gun fire but by then they were in the jungle and no one was hit.

  When they were deep enough into the jungle Ben asked. ‘What's plan B then?’

  ‘I'll tell you when I think of it Ben!’ Stuart replied.

  They ran deeper into the jungle, following the same route they had taken last time.

  ‘I know we'll make for the fig roots, you know, where we hid Toby!’ Stuart said breathlessly.

  When they reached the fig roots he stood panting. Simon was right beside him.

  ‘I thought- you were- slow!’ He said between breaths.

  ‘It depends- on who is- after me!’ Simon replied in the same manner.

  Stuart thought for a few seconds.

  ‘Simon and Ben you need to be up there!’ He pointed to the canopy. ‘Have you got your flick knife Si?’

  ‘No!’ Simon replied.

  ‘Why not? You've always got it! Where is it now that we need it?’ Stuart cried.

  ‘I loaned it to Ben!’

  Stuart turned to Ben, who immediately produced the knife.

  ‘You two need to be up in the canopy over there.’ He pointed to the tree next to the fig roots. ‘But you need a liana which is attached to this tree so you can swing down and clobber them if you need to!’

  ‘You're kidding?’ Ben replied, then after a few seconds said. ‘You're not kidding! What pray are you two going to be doing while we are risking life and limb?’

  ‘Me and Sherman will hide down here so we can grab their guns or something!’ Stuart replied as there was no way to get Sherman up a tree.

  ‘We have guns!’ The pilot pointed out.

  ‘Our plan is a back up plan just in case you don't win!’ Stuart replied diplomatically. ‘If you hide in there you should be able to shoot them when they approach!’

  The pilot translated for the sergeant, who turned to Stuart and said. ‘We can fight, also!’

  ‘I hope so!’ Stuart replied ‘Or we're in big trouble!’

  Simon and Ben climbed up dragging a liana behind them. Simon stopped and helped Ben who was not into climbing but he thought being in the canopy was far better than being on the ground. They reached the branch they were heading for, then worked their way across to the next tree.

  ‘I'm glad I don't have to do that!’ Stuart whispered to Sherman.

  ‘Could you see me doing it?’ Sherman replied. ‘If’n I got up there the thing would break as I swung on it! Now let's get under cover!’

  Stuart helped cover Sherman, not an easy task; then made a bed of sticks covered in leaves as they had done before to ambush the drug runners. It was propped up with a stick. Stuart only ad to remove it to lower cover over him. When he was happy with his cover he slid in, feet first, on his stomach and lowered the cover. This time he made sure he kept his hands well in as last time he did this the leader of the druggies, as they had called them, had stood on his hand for what had seemed an eternity. A cracking twig alerted him to the approach of the men from the other helicopter. Another twig cracked, then another. Stuart thought back to their trip along the river bank, when they made as much noise as they could to disguise the fact that they were turning back, one by one, to elude the men on the boat, who were using microphones to listen to them. He inched his head round to look the other way, as he did so a boot landed right next to him. He held his breath expecting the worst but the man had not seen him, he was more intent on creeping up behind the sergeant and the pilot who were hiding in the fig roots. Stuart wanted to warn them but there was no way to do it, without giving away his position. To his right more twigs cracked, designed to take the sergeant and translator's attention, Stuart could not see them and decided the trick would work. The man next to him moved away to Stuart's left going behind the fig roots and took both the pilot and the sergeant prisoner without any trouble. They were obviously told to climb out, after throwing out their guns and stood in front of the fig roots. Two more men arrived, one spoke into the radio transmitter which he held in his hand; he then spoke to the sergeant. The sergeant's answer was obviously not the right answer as the man fired his gun into the ground in front of both prisoners several times.

  ‘Boys, I will count to ten then I will kill one of these men unless you are standing in front of me!’ The man with the radio warned in good English.

  Suddenly Simon came hurtling through the air and knocked the nearest druggie flying as he went past. Ben followed two seconds later, two seconds which allowed the druggie with the radio to side step and watch a second accomplice fly through the air.

  ‘Nice of you to drop in!’ The druggy with the radio greeted and swung his gun toward Ben.

  Sherman rose out of his hiding place and leapt at the man, wrestling with him for the gun but even Sherman was no match for the man and he was thrown to the ground. While they were wrestling Stuart slid out from where he hid and picked up a fallen machine gun.

  ‘That is three, where is number four?’ The druggy asked.

  ‘I'm right here!’ Stuart replied. He stood there with the gun he had just picked up in his hand and pointed at the one remaining druggy.

  ‘And what do you think that you will do with that.’ The remaining druggy asked. ‘I do not think that you even know how to cock it or put off the safety catch!’

  ‘You mean like this?’ Stuart replied and without taking his eyes of the man he cocked the gun, released the safety catch and fired a burst of gun fire at the ground in front of him.

  Sherman somehow guessed Stuart's intentions and rolled away from the man. He had heard about Stuart's skill at shooting, or lack of it! Sherman was right to be cautious as one of the rounds passed through the druggy's left boot. The man shrieked with pain and rolled on the floor holding his foot. The pilot relieved him of his gun and passed the guns they had thrown out of their hiding place to the sergeant, who covered the other two men although they were still motionless. Ben climbed to his feet and looked about in a daze. Simon walked out of the jungle carrying the other druggies oozy.

  ‘How come you get all the good things?’ Ben complained looking at the oozy.

  ‘Did you see my knife?’ Simon replied. ‘I dropped it when I fell!’

  ‘Might have, what's it worth- What do you mean FELL?’ Ben replied.

  ‘You don't think I'm mad enough to try to do what we just did do you?’ Simon asked. ‘I leant forward to get a better view and slipped, it was a good thing I had that liana.’

  ‘But I thought- I didn't want to look a-’ Ben ran out of words and stopped talking, his head bowed low.

  ‘I'll swap this for my knife!’ Simon offered.

  Ben looked up.

  ‘It's over here but you can have it, it's yours!’

  He recovered Simon's knife from the jungle and gave it to him. Simon offered him the oozy.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Ben asked.

  Simon smiled.

  ‘This I might get through customs!’ He said holding up the knife. ‘But an oozy no way!’

  Ben smiled back. ‘At least I can keep it until we fly home!’

  The sergeant spoke to the pilot and the pilot translated. ‘Sergeant Torres realizes now that his brother was not exaggerating, you have his apologies.’

  ‘A fat lot of good that is now!’ Sherman exclaimed. ‘We're back in the jungle with a load of druggies between us and the hotel and there is bound to be more men left in the helicopter behind us to go and get help!’

  The sergeant spoke and the pilot answered. The sergeant tapped his nose and picked up the radio transmitter, issuing instructions to th
e pilot as he did so. The drug traffickers were trussed up with whatever was available, conscious or not. Then the sergeant and pilot led the boys back toward the poppy field. As they neared the poppy field he spoke into the radio, imitating the voice of the man who had spoken into it earlier.

  ‘We must hide!’ The pilot ordered.

  A few seconds’ later two men, one dressed as the pilot was dressed, came running from the field and were promptly surrounded and relieved of their guns. The police pilot searched the other pilot and found the key he wanted.

  ‘What did he say?’ Stuart asked.

  ‘Sergeant Torres said that they had captured everyone, he also said they had found the money. Meaning they could fly away with the money and be rich! Now we have some wheels! Yes?’

  CHAPTER 4

  The sergeant issued more orders and the pilot ran to the crashed helicopter. When he returned he had a selection of handcuffs. The drug traffickers were handcuffed together round large trees; those who were trussed up like turkeys had the ropes replaced by handcuffs.

  ‘Now we go and sort the rest of them out!’ The pilot explained and ushered the boys towards the field.

  ‘The sergeant has his uses.’ Sherman admitted as they climbed into the commandeered helicopter. ‘This is a lot better than walking!’

  ‘But at least we wouldn’t of have to carry anyone this time!’ Stuart added.

  ‘If he'd have listened in the first place, we wouldn't have got into that mess!’ Ben pointed out.

  ‘It is no wonder that we cannot catch them if they have machines as good as this! It is like a Rolls Royce when compared with the helicopter I was flying!’ The pilot complained in English then obviously repeated it in Spanish.

  The helicopter had not yet been modified in the same manner as the one which had fired on the boys, the last time they were in the poppy field; this one still had the doors fitted and there was no machine gun in place of the rear seat.

  ‘Why don't you keep this one?’ Stuart asked. ‘After all they are druggies; they can't fly it if they are in prison!’

  ‘We might be able to but they have very good lawyers.’ The pilot replied.

  The sergeant spoke to him and the pilot passed him the radio headphone, then the pilot leant forward and adjusted the frequency.

  ‘The sergeant say's that we must go to plan B ourselves.’

  ‘What's your plan B?’ Ben asked.

  ‘It is simple we lose them in our prison system, move them from prison to prison and generally try to keep them away from their lawyers.’

  ‘Isn't that illegal?’ Simon asked naively.

  ‘Not as illegal as shooting down a police helicopter, in fact two police helicopters and causing the death of the pilot, who was a friend of mine!’ The pilot answered bitterly. ‘But we have to have proof or witnesses that stay alive long enough to testify.’

  ‘We saw it, when they blew up the first helicopter!’ Stuart pointed out.

  ‘But did you see who fired the missile?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘We can arrest them for shooting down the helicopter that we were in and for torturing you, as there are witnesses to them. We can also try them for any drugs we find when we land. If Colebora is there we will arrest him also but if his lawyer is able to bail him out then he will just disappear; until all the witnesses themselves have disappeared, that is!’

  As they talked the sergeant was rattling out orders on the radio, when he passed the headphones back the pilot laughed.

  ‘I am sure if his father was still alive, he would have called him out here, he has ordered everyone else to come!’ He said quietly.

  The boys laughed, which caused the sergeant to look round and say.

  ‘What's up doc?’ He slapped the pilot on the back. ‘Hit the road Jack!’

  ‘Too much television.’ The pilot explained and took off.

  On the way back the boys described where the lookouts had been posted and the information was relayed to the raiding party. The boys were kept well out of range of the raid, which went like clockwork. Men landed in six different places and encircled the house, gradually moving forward. The lookouts were either killed or captured, then the house was taken and they sent a signal up, to tell their pilot that it was safe to land.

  ‘We couldn't see anything from where we were!’ Ben complained more annoyed that he had no chance for a trophy.

  ‘We could have helped!’ Simon agreed. ‘We do owe them one.’

  ‘Couldn't we have gone a bit closer?’ Stuart asked.

  ‘I was following orders from a higher authority!’ The pilot explained. ‘Ernesto said that if one hair on one of your heads was damaged; then we would both be back on foot patrol!’

  ‘Is he alright now?’ Stuart asked.

  He said that he will be at the hotel when you get back, so I think he must be a lot better.’ The pilot explained as he landed the helicopter. ‘He was very ill for a couple of days.’

  As they touched the ground, a uniformed policeman ran forward and spoke to the sergeant.

  The pilot translated.

  ‘It would appear that we do not have to worry about José Colebora as he seems to have killed himself!’

  ‘I don't believe that!’ Ben replied.

  ‘Nor do I!’ Stuart agreed. ‘I could believe him killing someone else, in fact I've known him to shoot one of his own men but I don't think he would kill himself.’

  The pilot passed on the boy's comments, while the boys waited.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ Stuart whispered to Simon.

  ‘I think it's a laugh!’ Simon whispered back.

  The pilot turned to Stuart.

  ‘You said that you met José Colebora, when you were taken prisoner by his men?’ He asked.

  ‘Yes. Well he said he was him but he might have been lying!’ Stuart replied.

  ‘For what purpose, I hardly think that he took you to be a threat to his operation.’ The pilot said with a knowing smile. ‘He knows better now though! Would you be willing to identify him for us?’

  ‘Yes, as long as I can throw a bucket of ice cold water over him and his mate!’ Stuart replied, remembering how cold he had been.

  The pilot smiled, remembering Stuart's report of his treatment, when he was their prisoner.

  ‘Perhaps the satisfaction of seeing him dead will have to do!’ He answered.

  They were made to wait until the rotor had stopped, before they were allowed out of the helicopter, then they were led up to the big house; with the exception of Ben who stopped to tie the lace on his trainer. Stuart took the lead when they were inside of the house and went straight to the room where he had met José for the first time. He did not know but the others had let him lead them as a test, to see if he did know the way. He was intercepted at the door by an armed policeman and was only let through on the sergeant’s orders. Sitting in a chair but slumped over the desk was the body of a man. The man's head was turned sideways and his face was badly disfigured by whatever had been used to kill him. Stuart was sickened by the sight of the dead man but looked closely at him. Something was wrong. The man had a moustache like Hose's but his face seemed very pale, where it could still be seen.

  ‘How did he do it?’ Stuart asked. ‘Where did he hold the gun?’

  The pilot, the sergeant and the policeman on guard talked for some time, they lifted the head and explored different angles.

  ‘Gor-ree!’ Simon commented.

  Eventually the pilot said. ‘We think that it must have been like this!’ He demonstrated holding the gun to the back of his head with his right hand and said. ‘Bang!’

  ‘Then it can't be him!’ Stuart replied. ‘Look at his right hand.’

  They looked and found one finger missing. It had been hastily bandaged.

  ‘This could mean that one of his men killed him!’ The pilot suggested.

  ‘How long has that finger been cut off?’ Stuart asked.

  The pilot spoke with the sergeant.


  ‘Talk about Laurel and Hardy!’ Sherman whispered.

  The sergeant took the bandage off and examined the hand there was fresh blood on the bandage. The sergeant gave the pilot his opinion.

  ‘He thinks that it was cut off very recently.’

  ‘Well I shot it off nearly a week ago!’ Stuart reported. ‘It was bandaged when he was on the boat. You'd think that in a week it would have started to heal; and his face was a lot darker!’

  ‘Yes it does look odd. Like someone who has just cut off his beard.’ The pilot remarked and barked orders in Spanish. Two police men searched the house, one returned with a discarded newspaper containing a finger which had obviously been removed very recently.

  ‘So he is still in the land of the living.’ The pilot said with smile. ‘Shall we look at the other fish in our net?’

  The second policeman reported to the sergeant.

  ‘It seems we are looking for someone with a light patch under his nose as it would appear that he has recently shaved his moustache off!’ The pilot explained.

  They walked out into the sunshine at the front of the house to where the prisoners were lined up under heavy guard. Stuart walked down the line of men, looking at their faces and hands until he came to a man of Hose's height, with a woollen hat pulled a long way on to his head, partly obscuring his face. He had no moustache but there was a distinct light patch under his nose, he was wearing gloves and to help, Stuart saw that he was wearing Hose's shiny black shoes.

  ‘Hi José!’ Stuart greeted.

  The man did not reply.

  Stuart whispered in the pilot's ear. The pilot hit the man's right hand with the but of his gun. The man howled in pain.

  ‘You should have answered my young friend.’ The pilot reproached.

  ‘I will do more than answer him, the next time we meet!’ José hissed. ‘My lawyers will have me out of your stinking prison cell in twenty-four hours. Then we will see who wins! I will do more than have cold water tipped over him!’

  ‘I think not! We have special ways of dealing with scum like you!’ The pilot replied and the men were dragged away toward the waiting helicopters.

  ‘I hope he doesn't get out too quickly!’ Stuart exclaimed, a little afraid.