The only problem was that you never saw an old drug dealer; some looked old but they weren’t. Drug dealers didn’t live long. Some were stupid and got killed. Some sampled their product too much and died from it. Bart learned that sampling drugs was a one-way deal. You could not control it and it destroyed your life. You either died from the drugs or someone decided you were an easy target and they killed you. Either way you were dead.
Bart planned to live a long life. He was focused on getting power and keeping power. He never sampled drugs and he maintained control. Drugs to him were just a business. A way to make money, lots of money. Money paved the way for power. He was after the power. When he was a kid, he had no power. Now he was going to have plenty of power.
He first used his money to build his estate in the mountains. People thought he was crazy. That didn’t bother Bart because he had a plan. He selected the site because of the land’s orientation to the sunrise and its isolation. There was no water or electricity available on the site. Bart installed a large water reservoir and a motor-generator set with a large fuel storage tank to generate his own electricity. There was no cell phone service and this was a big obstacle to his business but he was able to get satellite phone, TV and Internet service so he had everything he needed. He had tankers come with water and fuel periodically and he had a tanker pump out the sewage storage tank occasionally.
Then came the pièce de résistance. On the land sloping away from the house on the east side, he constructed a special garden, which fanned out toward the rising sun. At the point end of the fan he had a quasi gazebo built with a throne-like chair for him to sit in. When he sat in the chair at sunrise, the suns rays would be funneled by the garden into his body. He was able to gather strength from the sun each morning. The sun was the source of power.
The best part though was his boys. He was putting boys in his garden to help focus the sun’s power more effectively. His plan called for thirty-three boys buried in a strict pattern. He had thirty installed already. In fact, he had just recently added one. The boy had been brought to him from Ohio. He needed three more and then his garden would be completed. It would be the best garden in the world.
Bart had a special room in the basement of his house where he prepared the boys for the garden. He had to take them through a special process to get them ready for their big role in the garden.
Bart had no friends. He had a contingent of guards around the clock but they were employees. They had strict instructions to never go in the garden under the pain of death unless they had special permission from him, which usually happened only when it was time to open another grave. Some of the guards didn’t like to go near the garden anyway. They thought it was spooky to use their words. They were fools.
His personal assistant was the closest person to him but they weren’t friends. Bart had never had a friend. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure what a friend was. He used people to get things done but he had no feelings for them. His personal assistant lived in the big house with him. He took care of everything Bart didn’t feel like doing.
He had a great chef who also lived in the big house. His guards lived in the guest house. One thing that Bart had to have was strict control over his employees. Bart did this by involving the employees in crimes and then blackmailed them into not reporting him to the police. The few cases who seemed to be of significant risk, he had killed in such a manner that it sent a message to the other employees. You didn’t leave here alive. You could have a job and live as long as you did your work and kept your mouth shut. Otherwise you died.
Bart was doing a land-office business in drugs. America was a huge market for recreational drugs. Americans couldn’t get enough. One of his biggest products was marijuana. A big fear was that the drug would be legalized. That would wreck part of his lucrative business. He made a ton of money on marijuana. Several states had legalized weed for medicinal purposes. That was a bad omen for his illegal business.
There was a river of money flowing through his hands. His biggest problem was laundering the money and making it legitimate. That was a real problem. The government was trying to make it difficult for people like Bart. Bastards. Bart had a banker in town who helped with this task and who was taking a good cut of the money. Bastard. Bart had to put up with it. It was sort of okay because there was so much money flowing. The banker was a business expense.
The weather was perfect. The sun was ready to start coming over the mountain. Bart needed to get in position and be ready for the sun. He would sit in his special chair with his legs spread out toward the sun, making a small funnel. The large garden funnel would direct the rays into the funnel formed by his legs. The power would surge up into his groin. It was the best feeling he ever had. It was glorious power. At that moment he knew he was powerful. He could control his life and the life of the people around him. Nothing could stop him. He would have enough power to last until the next morning. He would sit there for an hour. After that the sun was too high in the sky to be effective. During these moments his staff was instructed to be nowhere near him and they were to make no noise. It was a sacred time. Bart’s life was good. As soon as he got the next three boys, his life would be perfect.
Chapter 53
The Introductions
We flew to Albuquerque, New Mexico in the company plane. There were four of us on the plane with a load of guns, ammo, tazers, Tyvek suits and other miscellaneous gear. With just four passengers, theoretically we could have made it to Albuquerque without a fuel stop but between my weight and the weight of our guns, ammo and gear we made one fuel stop. Besides you want more than theory when flying. You never want to ask, “How is the fuel?” and hear someone say, “Damn!”
We were met at Albuquerque International Sunport by two SUVs. We threw our gear in the SUVs and got in. We were driven to a house in an isolated area. It was a one story, modest stucco house of Spanish architecture.
It always amazes me how different the architecture is between areas in the U.S. The people are very different too. The notion that we are a melting pot and that we are just one big happy family is propaganda put out by our government to maintain control. The melting pot idea is a myth. We are not and never have been a melting pot or one big happy family.
In fact, one of the biggest if not the biggest civil war in the history of the world was fought on the North American continent over whether we would be one family or not. The unionists won that conflict and we became one big group held together with rifles and minié balls. There are deep divides within the U.S. There are still bitter feelings in the South over the total economic destruction during the Civil War. People who are reduced from the equivalent of billionaires to paupers in four short years, don’t react kindly to it. A whole social and economic way of life was wiped out with nothing to replace it. That pain is handed down through the generations. Don’t get me wrong, I am not defending slavery; I am just pointing out that the North underappreciated the trauma in the South. Trauma like that dies out very slowly. Too bad Lincoln was killed. Lincoln wanted to “let them up easy,” his way of saying we need to help the South, not penalize them. They had been penalized enough by the war.
There are areas in the U.S. where English is not spoken, for example Spanish in the southwest, French in Louisiana and Maine. In some states English is a foreign language, as in Hawaii and Alaska. Alaska publishes voting instructions in six languages plus English and California publishes documents in eight languages besides English. Doesn’t sound like a melting pot.
We went inside and gathered in the living room. We brought in chairs from the dining room so that everyone would have a seat. There were eight of us. We were going to be introduced.
Bob was no longer Bob. He was now Captain. As Captain he did the introductions. I deduced from this that he knew everyone and apparently quite well. My impression was that they had worked together before but no one talked about it. Whether that was in a civilian capacity, a military capacity or both I did not know and was
not about to ask. In this situation you were told what you needed to know. If you felt that you needed to know more, you could ask but you needed to make sure that you really did need to know. It wasn’t a time for curiosity. The cat wasn’t the only one killed by curiosity.
If I had to guess, some of the guys, maybe all, met in the military. I knew for sure that Bob, Mike and Paul served together. It was clear that all of the men had been trained in the military. It was also clear that they had worked together before.
It was a marvel to me that the American society was willing to train men to be killers with no thought as to what it would mean in the future. In the military honors are bestowed upon a man who is an excellent killer, say a sniper, trained with taxpayer’s money. (It may be interesting to note that one of the deadliest WWII snipers was a Russian woman.) The military is very careful to make sure the killers have proper education in killing. Some men become very proficient at it. Then at the termination of their service time, they are sent back to civilian life with no guidance or transitional training.
I find that curious because I don’t think that the transition is necessarily an easy one. Some men never really make the transition. Some are addicted to the adrenaline rush from killing and don’t want to be civilians. For them it is a one-way street. You can train them to be killers but you can’t untrain them. Untrain isn’t even a word. In a sense they remain killers for the rest of their lives. They may not be active killers but they are still killers. Some may become or remain active.
I was fairly sure I was looking at some who preferred to remain active in killing and who craved the adrenaline rush associated with risky operations, the kind of operation we were facing.
There was an African-American who Captain introduced as Mr. Blackman. Say what? I couldn’t tell if it was Black Man as in a black man or Blackman. I wasn’t about to ask. I assumed it was Mr. Blackman.
There was no hint of prejudices in the group. These men trusted each other with their lives. Religion, skin color and other irrelevant tags were dangerous things to have and this group would have no part of it. You had to have complete acceptance and trust of the other team members or someone could die. Mr. Blackman was a sniper.
His sidekick was called Eyes. Eyes was Mr. Blackman’s spotter. They apparently had worked together as a team in the army and still liked working together.
A third man was shorter than Mike and stood out because of this feature. However, he was like Mike in that he was another bulldozer-looking man. He was Latino and spoke fluent English and Spanish, a skill that might be very handy in this job because some or all the people in the compound might be Spanish speaking. At least the top guy would know English but the guards may know only Spanish. The third man was called Shooter because that is what he did best. He was very fast and very accurate, skills that would be handy in this operation.
The fourth man was called Box Man. He was a yegg or safecracker. He would open the safe that our target almost certainly would have. Box Man was unremarkable physically except maybe that he didn’t look as tough as the rest. He looked more intellectual but that could be misleading. He was a rather short, slight man and wore glasses. He would know his game or he wouldn’t be there.
Mike, I learned, was no longer Mike. He was Sarge. He was a sergeant in the army and it was convenient to use the appellation Sarge. Captain didn’t say much about him because everyone knew him.
Paul was introduced as Lieutenant. It was noted that Paul was fluent in Spanish. Funny, I hadn’t known this.
I was the last and was introduced as Louie. I was a lieutenant in the army and to distinguish me from Lieutenant I would be called Louie. I knew some Spanish but I was far from fluent.
We sat around facing each other. There was water to drink and some snacks but no alcohol of any kind. These were professionals and they didn’t drink alcohol on the job. It would jeopardize their lives and the lives of others on the team. The snacks tended to be nonfat to keep the guys sharp. Lots of celery and carrot crunching. It got noisy from time to time.
Captain said, “Most of you guys know each other. Louie is new. If anyone has an issue with someone on the team, this is the time to bring it up. We need to go into this job clearheaded and with complete trust of each other. We can’t afford any negative feelings toward one another or with the plan.”
After saying that he went silent, waiting to see if anyone one spoke up. Everyone was quiet for a while. Finally, Mr. Blackman spoke up. He said, “Captain, we have already discussed the new guy Louie. We always had a rule: no new guys. I understand this is special because it is his kid we are going after. I just want to make sure everyone understands he comes in after we secure the place.
“And I have one more concern and that is we want to make sure that he remains under control. If he goes crazy in there or loses his nerve, I will shoot him dead. I want that understood and I don’t mean any hard feelings by it.”
I spoke up, “No hard feelings on my part. I understand completely. But remember if you shoot me dead, you are going to have to carry me out because you don’t want to leave any evidence behind.” This made Mr. Blackman laugh. I could see that my response helped to relax him.
Bob said, “Those are good concerns and I am sure you all feel the same. I have discussed this with you before and I will repeat: I have reason to trust Louie with my life. I have seen him in action. Also Louie has agreed to these conditions.
“The only condition that Louie, Sarge, Lieutenant and I have not agreed with is that we don’t want to split any of the money we may find except that we will take enough to cover our expenses. The reason for this is that we are here solely to find the boy.”
Everyone nodded their heads. From the relaxed body language it seemed that everyone was okay with the arrangements. I think that they were okay with it before this exchange or they wouldn’t be in the house. However, it cleared the air. This way they knew that I knew the rules. If I deviated from the plan, I wouldn’t live. That was the message for me. Life is tenuous.
Chapter 54
Final Orders
With the introductions out of the way, Captain went over the plan. The plan had been worked out beforehand but this was the time for everyone to hear the plan in its entirety and have last minute discussions about it, if required. It was clear Captain was in charge although he maintained an easy way with the men. He never issued blunt orders. Orders were couched in a polite language of requests rather than demands. I saw no hesitancy or refusal to comply. Captain was in charge.
“Mr. Blackman and Eyes, you will be responsible for taking out the satellite dish, disabling their external communications, please. I assume you have picked your position.”
Mr. Blackman responded, “Yeah, Captain, we have a good place about three hundred yards from the house. It will be an easy shot. I can take out the dish with one shot but if not Eyes will tell me how to correct and it will go out for sure on the second shot. I know the gun and have hand-loaded shells. Me and Eyes are set.”
This apparently satisfied Captain and he went on, “When the satellite is taken out, Eyes will send out a signal. We will have radios that are good up to one mile. We will use military protocol to keep the radio traffic to a minimum. Lieutenant, Sarge, Shooter and I will be in a panel truck painted to look exactly like a satellite repair truck based on photographs taken by Snake. Lieutenant and Shooter will be in the back of the panel truck. When we hear your signal, we will wait one hour and a half. That is the earliest estimated time for a response from the satellite company. We will make our move on the house. Meanwhile Mr. Blackman and Eyes will hike out to the road. They will position themselves so that they can shoot out two tires of any legitimate satellite repair truck. Since there is no cell service up there, the repairman’s only two choices will be to walk back to the city or walk to the house. If he walks toward the city, it effectively takes him out of the game. If he walks toward the house, we will kill him. If the people in the house detect that the satellite
service is out, they will most likely send a vehicle to the city for repair help. If they do this, Mr. Blackman will take out tires on their vehicle and disable it. When the driver gets out to investigate, Mr. Blackman will kill him. Mr. Blackman and Eyes will load the body in the back of the vehicle and cover it with a black blanket. That way a casual passerby will not notice the body.
“We will drive up to the gate. The guard will stop us. We will tell him we are there to fix the satellite connection. The system had detected a fault. He may say he doesn’t know anything about it. We will tell him to phone or radio the house and verify that the satellite service is out. If he does that, he will find it is out. On the other hand if they have already detected it and have sent someone to the city for a repair, he will know about it. In either case he will want to let us in.
“He will then want to see in the back of the van. When he opens the back door, Shooter will shoot the gateman in the head. Lieutenant will quickly wrap a towel around the guy’s head to contain the blood. Lieutenant and Shooter will load the guy in the back of the van. This will have to be done quickly in case we are on camera but we think that the panel truck doors will shield us from the camera.
“Lieutenant will be dressed as a gateman and will take over the gate. Shooter will get back in the van.
“I will drive the van up to the house. I will get out and go to the door with my assistant, Sarge. We won’t know for sure who will answer the door. He might be a guy who we want alive so we will tazer him and put restraints on him.
“While we are doing this, Shooter will get out of the van and start roving the grounds, looking for the patrol with two dogs that Snake said are there. Shooter will take out the guard and his two dogs. Shooter will join us in the house as soon as he is free.
A Shadow of Death in The Woods Page 29
