The Hunters Series Box Set

by Glenn Trust

  “Excellent. So you are saying that acquiring inventory will not be a problem as our exports increase.”

  “No problem. And the system of suppliers continues to expand at a rate that should offset the needs of future growth in the operation.”

  “And security?”

  Emilio leaned towards the phone. “It is basic, but adequate. The warehouse is in an area that is unlikely to be disturbed and is easily defended with routes of escape through the swamp and countryside. There are several major highways nearby, interstates.”

  “Good. So that brings us to our next issue.”

  Paco spoke again. “We have met the contacts and suppliers. We know the pick-up and drop points. We know how to pay for merchandise and transport it to the warehouse and how to arrange for transport out of the country, through the Florida Keys. In short, Jefe, we can handle the operation.”

  Rivera was quiet, thoughtful, considering the information his men had provided. He lifted his arm, sipping his drink and looked at Guzman. His junior partner sat quietly, puffing his cigar and waiting to be invited to comment. Decorum, dignity and respect were required. He had waited patiently, listening attentively, demonstrating to the senior man, the chief, Rivera, El Jefe, his respect and deference. Likewise, the two on the satellite phone in Georgia remained silent and patient, awaiting instructions or additional questions.

  “And you Ramon,” Rivera said turning to the younger man. “What do you think of this report?”

  “I think your men have done a complete and thorough job. They have accounted for all of the details and are ready to move forward.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I would have expected no less from two such trusted men as Francisco and Emilio.” He spoke their names and the words clearly knowing the effect it would have on them huddled by the phone in the Georgia woods. He could see their grins as they received the compliment of their boss, and he knew that their loyalty and devotion had just been increased a notch or two.

  Returning to his questioning of Guzman, Rivera continued, “But you Ramon. What is your opinion? Take the information we have just received and combine it with our further plans. Does it create for you a thought about our next actions?”

  “Yes, it does, Eduardo.” Guzman took the liberty of using Rivera’s first name in this setting, within hearing of his men, so that they would know that he, Ramon Guzman, held a position of importance himself, junior to Rivera, but senior to the others. Rivera smiled, understanding and nodded for Guzman to continue. “I believe that we must act quickly to push our plans forward. The Americans, especially Budroe will have plans of their own and will grow stronger with time. Eventually, they will learn our side of the business, and when they do, confrontation is inevitable. We should act swiftly.” As he finished speaking, Guzman sent a billowing cloud of blue gray smoke from the balcony into the hot afternoon air, punctuating his remarks.

  Nodding his approval, Rivera said, “I agree.” Speaking to the men on the phone he asked, “Do you understand what is expected, Emilio, Paco?”

  “We do?” The men in the camper trailer answered in unison, serious, concentrating on the phone.

  “Will there be any problem?”

  “No, Jefe.” There will not be a problem.” Emilio spoke as this was his area of expertise. “The Americans are dangerous, deadly even, but they are arrogant and careless. They will not be a problem.”

  “Good, good.” Rivera sipped his drink. “And you know the one that is not to be harmed. You may have to be hard on him, but no harm. We will need him.”

  “We understand,” Emilio said. “No real harm will come to him, although we will have to control him. He may be the most dangerous of them all.”

  “I understand. Control him, but keep him alive.”

  “It will be done as you say, Jefe.”

  “Good. We will be arriving in the next few days. I will let you know when, and that will be the moment to act. Understood?”

  “Understood,” both men responded.

  Rivera reached out and tapped the disconnect button on the phone. There was nothing more to say.

  45. Settling In

  Pulling the dented and rusted pickup, into the gravel lot of Banks’ Store, Andy let the dust settle and stepped out. Sheriff Beery had provided the truck from a used car lot outside Moultrie. Having been briefed on the need for undercover security, he had paid two thousand dollars from his personal savings, on the promise from Bob Shaklee that he would be reimbursed. It was a promise kept, when Andy handed the sheriff an envelope with the two thousand in cash, no check. There would be no paper trail.

  Parking to the side of the store, Andy crunched through the gravel. He was dressed in worn blue jeans, cotton shirt, frayed at the collar and old work boots. The clothes and the two-day stubble on his face made him look like a man who could use a job.

  Walking from the sunlight into the dimly lit store, he took a moment to scan the inside. There were a couple of customers back by the beer coolers, and a thin middle-aged black man at the register. Other than that, the store was empty.

  “Kind of quiet in here.” Andy walked to the man at the counter smiling.

  “Yeah, usually is this time of day. We get locals in the morning and the afternoon after work. And a few during the day who don’t have anything else to do, old codgers lookin’ for company, not wanting to be alone mostly. Kind of a local gathering place.” Nodding to the two men by the cooler, he added, "Some who can’t get by without a beer no matter what time of day. We got lots of beer.” He smiled and put out his hand. “I’m Jerome Banks. You must be Sam Martin. Jake Beery told me you’d be comin’ by.”

  Andy nodded at the name Beery had been told to use for his cover. “Nice to meet you, Jerome. Jake said you might could use some help.” He looked around the store. “Sure you can use me around here? Looks like a one man operation.”

  “Sure we can always use the help. At least for a while until you can find something better. Besides, you’re a friend of Jake’s, and we think a lot of Jake.”

  “Okay then, if you’re sure, what you want me to do first?”

  “Step around here and I’ll show you how to run the register.” Banks chuckled. “Be nice having someone around when I gotta take a leak. Some days are busier than others, and I get to doin’ the two step shuffle, waitin’ on customers.”

  Showing Andy the store’s operations took Banks about an hour. After that, Andy was pretty much an expert on running Banks’ store, at least handling the cash register and stocking shelves. He settled in, helping the few customers who came in and keeping an eye open for anything unusual. Banks' Store was two miles or so from the road that led to Nicks Cove. According to Sheriff Beery, the working girls came by frequently for supplies along with the men who visited them. It should be a good place to pick up information.

  “Where you stayin’, Sam?”

  Andy looked up from the bottom shelf that he was stocking with cans of chili.

  “Thought I would check into the motel over in Deerton until I can find something better.”

  “Well, I don’t want to butt into your business, but unless you like run down flea bag motels, Mama and me got a nice room you can use while you’re lookin’ for something else.”

  The motel in Deerton was the location they had selected for their base of operations. It was where George and Sharon would be staying.

  “Well, I don’t know…”

  “Lot closer to work. We just live a mile or so down the road.”

  It would be better to be closer to work, and to whatever was happening at Nicks Cove. Night time out here might provide more information than what he could see or hear in the store. Thinking it over, Andy nodded. “I really appreciate that Jerome. Never cared much for fleas anyway.”

  “Good. That’s good,” Jerome said, smiling. “I’ll call Mama and tell her we have company for supper.”

  The Deerton Inn was, in fact, a fleabag. Checked into their room, the first thing Sharon did was to
pull the mattress off the bed and inspect it for bedbugs, fleas and anything else that might have multiple legs and a tendency to come out at night while honest people slept. None was obvious, but she still felt a creepy, itchy sensation in her spine.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” George watched her with amusement. “It’s no worse than camping outside with bugs and critters.”

  “That may be true, Mackey, but we’re not camping. 'Critters' need to stay out of my bed.” She stood up from her inspection of the mattress.

  “Come here.” Reaching out George pulled her to him. “I’ll protect you,” he said with a grin. “You just stay close like this. The bugs will come for me and leave you alone.”

  Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Sharon stepped back. “Nice try buddy. Time for that later.”

  “Yeah,” George nodded. “Why don’t you unpack and then let’s go check on Andy at the store. Scope things out.”

  “You don’t actually think, I’m going to put my clothes in that nasty dresser, do you?”

  “I try not to anticipate your thought processes. It’s more interesting to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. Besides,” he said with a grin, “it hurts my head to try and figure out anything you think or do.”

  “That’s how I like it.” Sharon swatted his butt and turned for the door. “Let’s go. I want to check on Andy.”

  46. He Would Not Want That

  “So what do you think?” Roy Budroe munched a burger, watching the courthouse square in Deerton. It was the typical layout, except that Deerton was smaller and more rural than most county seats in Georgia, it was one of the things that made Meacham County attractive. Courthouse in the center, shops and stores lining the four streets making the square, it was much like Everett back in Pickham County, except it lacked the evident prosperity of Everett’s economy. Well, it was about to become more prosperous, at least for him.

  Looking up from his plate, Budroe’s lieutenant, spoke as he chewed. “I think things look good. Moving along.”

  “That’s it?”

  Narrowing his eyes, trying to determine where Budroe was going with this, the big man responded slowly. “Not sure what you mean, Roy. If you are asking about the operation, then we have all the pieces in place. We are ready.”

  Budroe nodded, letting him off the hook, just a little. “Yeah, I’d say we’re about as ready as we can be.” He turned his head back to the window and asked almost nonchalantly as if unconcerned with the answer. “What about our partners?”

  Nodding, understanding now. “I don’t trust them if I’m not close enough to smell ‘em. They need watching.”

  “Yeah, they do.” Budroe looked over. “You got that under control?”

  Nodding the big man took another bite of burger. “Yeah. Cleet and Mike know what to do. They’re watching. I’m watching.” He looked at Budroe. “What about you? The big guys’ll be here in a couple of days. You need any help there?”

  “Maybe.” Budroe shrugged. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

  Realizing that Budroe’s subtle comment meant that there was more to this conversation than he had first suspected, he put the burger on his plate and leaned back in the chair. Subtlety was not on of Budroe’s strong suits. “You not trustin’ me, Roy?”

  Leaning across the table, Budroe’s thick eyelids lowered, half covering his eyes as he examined the face of the man who took care of the unpleasant and dangerous work for him. “Can I trust you?” Budroe watched for a twitch, a sign, anything that might show the man to be not what he seemed. There was nothing.

  “You know what Roy; I think I’ve proven myself to you. Information I’ve provided, people I’ve taken care of…that little visit to the house in the swamp.” His voice rose slightly, eyes angry and just short of threatening. “I don’t think I have to prove a goddamned thing to you.”

  Budroe nodded. He believed him. “Calm down. I had to know, for sure.” He leaned back. “They’re gonna try something.”

  “You know that for sure?”

  Budroe nodded. “Can’t say I’ve heard anything or seen anything, but I know it…for sure.”

  “Why?”

  Budroe smiled. “Because it’s what I would do.”

  The big man stood. “I’m headed back to the clearing, keep an eye on things.” He looked Budroe in the eyes, making a promise. “We’ll be ready.”

  Roy Budroe was a man who unsettled the nerves of others. He had made a lifetime career out of intimidation. In most situations, he was the most daunting man in the room, if not outright terrifying. But watching the big man walk away, Budroe thought that he would not want that man upset with him. He would not want that at all.

  47. Charcoal and Crackers

  “Excuse me, you got charcoal, like for a barbecue grill?” George stood in the canned meats aisle of Banks’ Store looking down at Andy, who was rapidly taking cans of chili and hash and tuna from cardboard box flats and lining them up in the metal shelves.

  “Yep,” Andy replied without looking up. “Go down to the end of the aisle and then two over to the right. Charcoal, lighter fluid, whatever you need.”

  George nodded. “Thanks, buddy,” he said walking away. “Wife planned a damned cookout tonight and I just found out. Gotta get things going cause they’re gonna be there about eight.” Reaching the end of the aisle and turning to the right, George added for flair, “And I don’t know the first damned thing about barbecuing.”

  Andy smiled, not looking up. The signal had been received. Meet tonight at eight.

  “How’d it go?” Sharon waited, almost patiently, as George strapped himself into her SUV.

  “Went just fine. Andy’s stocking shelves. He got the message.”

  “Good.” Sharon stared out the window trying to see into the store as they backed away.

  George saw the look of concern plastered on her face. “He’s fine. Damn if you aren’t a mother hen.”

  “He’s alone, Mackey. We have each other for backup. Andy’s on his own, and these are some very bad people we are looking for.”

  “Yes, they are.” George nodded. “But Andy’s a pro. He knows what to do and how to be careful. And we are gonna watch Andy’s back. We just can’t stand over him all day. You know that, Sharon.”

  “I know it. Just seems like we’ve put him in the lion’s den.”

  “We didn’t put him there. He volunteered. He wanted it.”

  She nodded. “I know that he felt he had to do it…to be the one.”

  “Wouldn’t you? People are selling other people here, Sharon. What else would you expect him to do?”

  “That’s my point. He had to do it.” Turning her head to the window as they pulled out onto the road she said, “He had no choice.”

  “We are gonna take care of him. I promise you that.” The look on George’s face had a grim certainty about it. She had seen that look before. The look made her feel better about Andy’s safety, but it also made her worry about George now, knowing he would do anything, take any chance, risk everything to keep the promise he had just made.

  Sharon laughed out loud at her internal conflict. Make up your mind. Worry about Andy, or worry about George. You’re acting like a schoolgirl, she thought.

  George turned his head at the laugh. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Sharon said shaking her head at her own self-inflicted conflict. “Nothing at all. You just take care of yourself too. I need you warming the bed and my ass at night.” She reached out and touched him tenderly, stroking the muscles in his arm. The touch spoke volumes. It was always like that between them. Words meant less than actions.

  “Okay, then Ms. Price, you best get ready for the little show we are about to put on.”

  Slowing, George put the turn signal on and made a left turn onto a gravel road. About a half mile down the road they came to Nicks Cove. Pulling to the center of the clearing, George got out of the SUV and leaned back, stretching elaborately.

  “What do you think
, hon? This look like the house?”

  Stepping from the car, Sharon took note of their surroundings. A small house stood to one side, and several trailer homes were spaced around the clearing.

  “I don’t know, babe. Could be.” She spoke loudly enough that anyone in the house or trailers would hear.

  The door to the house opened. A woman walked down the steps into the clearing.

  “Can I help you?” Sonya stopped about ten feet short of George and Sharon, uncertain about what might have brought them to Nicks Cove. They did not look like the usual clientele.

  “Yeah, you can.” George smiled and took a step towards her. “Searching for a house that’s supposed to be for sale around here. Thought we would check it out. We’re looking to buy, but there’s not much available.”

  “We followed the directions the real estate agent gave us, but this doesn’t look like the picture of the house in the flyer,” Sharon added.

  Sonya relaxed. “That would be the Jameson place. It’s about three more miles down the road. You’ll come to another gravel road like this one but longer. It’s almost a mile in to get to the house. It’s a real nice house.” Sonya shrugged and looked at the ground. “I ain’t never been in it, but I seen it once from a car.” She nodded. “Real nice house.” Then looking up with a smile, she added, “Ain’t nothing for sale around here you’d be interested in.”

  “Well, okay then, guess we’ll head on down the road.” George turned to the SUV.

  Reaching out her hand, Sharon took a step toward Sonya. “Thanks for your help. I’m Sally…Sally Purvis and that big guy there is Gary Purvis, my husband. We’ll be moving into the area, so I reckon we’ll be neighbors soon.”

  Sonya gave Sharon’s hand a brief shake and stepped back quickly. “I reckon so then. I’m Sonya.” She turned towards the house, not offering her last name. “Ya’ll have a good day. You’re gonna like the Jameson place.