Reb's Rampage (Reb Rogers Book 2)

by J B Black

The Comandante listened to what the caller was saying for several seconds and then the call ended abruptly without the Comandante saying another word. He put his phone away and then gave the driver some instructions in rapid fire Spanish, too fast for Honey to follow.

  The Comandante turned in his seat to face Honey and said, “Senorita Brown, I apologize, but there has been a change of plans. I have just been informed that the safe house has been compromised.”

  “Just who the hell is it that’s trying to kidnap me?” Honey asked, indignantly.

  “It is one of the drug cartels. Unfortunately, with the vast amount of money they have available for making bribes, they have managed to corrupt officials in every government agency in my country. It is impossible to tell who is trustworthy any more. Under the circumstances we cannot guarantee your safety and my superiors think it best that you return home.”

  “Why the hell would they want to kidnap me?” Honey asked.

  “I do not know. All I can tell you is that I have been ordered by my superiors to take you to the airport where a plane has been arranged to fly you back to the States.”

  “What about our luggage?” Sarah asked.

  “Someone is bringing your luggage and will meet us at the airport,” Garcia said. “Ladies, I am very sorry for the inconvenience, but it is for your safety.”

  * * *

  When they arrived at the airport, Comandante Garcia gave his driver instructions to drive to the section of the airport reserved for general aviation. After driving past the office building and hangars of the first fixed-base operator, the convoy of police cars pulled into the facility of the next fixed-base operator. They sped past the office building and drove toward the hangar area. There was a Gulfstream business jet parked in front of the hangars with its engines running and the passenger door-step open, ready to take on passengers.

  Comandante Garcia’s car pulled up next to the jet’s door and Garcia got out of the car and opened the rear door for Honey as his driver opened the rear door for Sarah.

  As the two women were getting out of the car, a police van pulled up with their luggage from the hotel. Honey and Sarah watched as two police officers got out and started taking their luggage onto the jet.

  “As you can see, ladies, your luggage has arrived,” Comandante Garcia said.

  When the last of their luggage was onboard the jet and the two police officers were back in their van, Comandante Garcia escorted Honey and Sarah onto the jet.

  When they entered the passenger cabin, Honey and Sarah saw that there were two men in suits standing there waiting for them.

  “Ladies, these two officers have been assigned as your body guards. They will accompany you on your flight home just as a precaution,” Garcia said. “I must warn you their English is not so good, but they are excellent marksmen.”

  Honey and Sarah exchanged a glance.

  “Thank you for all you’ve done for us tonight, Comandante,” Honey said.

  “You are quite welcome, ladies, enjoy your flight,” Comandante Garcia said, then exited the jet.

  After the door was closed, the two bodyguards took their seats in the front of the cabin. Honey and Sarah went to the rear of the cabin and took their seats there.

  The small jet wasted no time in taking off and a short time later the jet leveled off at their cruising altitude of 25,000 feet.

  The two bodyguards promptly became engrossed in some card game, ignoring Honey and Sarah.

  “Damn, in all the confusion, I forgot to ask where it is we’re going,” Honey said.

  “Probably Houston,” Sarah said, as she fully reclined her seat. “Honey, I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day and I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Honey reached into her purse for her phone to call Reb and let him know about the change in plans. When she saw she had no service, she realized how exhausted she was. She lowered the back of her seat and, in no time, fell asleep.

  * * *

  Honey woke up when one of bodyguards shook her. He let her know—in broken English—that the jet was about to land. The bodyguard then woke Sarah. Both women raised their seat backs and buckled up for the landing.

  The jet made its descent and Honey looked out the window trying to figure out where it was they were landing. Instead of the bright lights of Houston or any other city, all Honey could see were the lights illuminating the landing strip ahead. They were landing in some remote location. Something wasn’t right.

  “Where the hell are we landing?” Honey yelled at the two bodyguards sitting in the front of the passenger cabin. Both men ignored her.

  “What’s going on?” Sarah asked.

  “It looks like we’re landing in some out of the way location,” Honey said, “and I don’t like the look of it one little bit.”

  After the jet touched down and was rolling to a stop, Honey discovered that her handbag—with both her pistol and her phone inside of it—was missing. She realized someone—one of the bodyguards, obviously—had removed her purse while she’d been asleep.

  Honey turned to Sarah and said, “Check to see if your handbag is where you left it.”

  After Sarah checked, she looked up at Honey in surprise, “It’s gone. My goddamn handbag is gone.”

  “Mine’s gone, too,” Honey said. “Along with my gun.”

  When the jet came to a stop, one of the bodyguards opened the door and a young man wearing a white polo shirt and khaki trousers came on board and said, “Ladies, my name is Raúl. Come with me, please.”

  Honey and Sarah looked at each other and—resigned to the fact they had no choice—followed the young man off the jet into the hot and humid evening air.

  The two bodyguards followed, carrying Honey’s and Sarah’s luggage and handbags.

  CHAPTER 20

  Hacienda Vicario

  Veracruz, Mexico

  Wednesday, May 5, 2010

  9:05 p.m. CDT

  Honey and Sarah followed Raúl off the jet and over to a Range Rover parked on the tarmac alongside the jet. Next to the Range Rover was a Toyota Land Cruiser.

  While the two bodyguards loaded their luggage into the Land Cruiser, Honey and Sarah got into the back seat of the Range Rover. They rode in silence as Raúl drove the Range Rover away from the airfield. They traveled several miles over a road that passed through field after field of sugar cane. Eventually, they turned off the main road and traveled down a tree-lined road until they arrived at a wall with a gated entrance and an armed guard.

  The Range Rover drove past the guard without stopping and through the gated entrance in the wall into a large courtyard. The Range Rover followed the paved circular drive up to the front steps of a large, two-story, Colonial Spanish mansion.

  Raúl parked the Range Rover, got out, opened the rear door on the driver’s side, and waited for Honey and Sarah to get out of the vehicle. The Toyota Land Cruiser pulled in next to the Range Rover and the two bodyguards began unloading the luggage.

  As soon as Honey and Sarah were out of the Range Rover, Raúl closed the door and said, “Follow me, please.”

  As he started up the steps, the snarling cry of a jaguar could be heard somewhere not too far in the distance. Startled by the sound of the big cat, Honey and Sarah looked at each other and then quickly caught up with Raúl and entered the house. The two bodyguards followed with their luggage.

  There was a large foyer with a double staircase split by a hallway that led to an interior courtyard in the middle of the house. On the left side of the foyer was a door that led to the formal dining room. On the right side of the foyer was a door that led to the ballroom. They took the staircase to the right and when they got to the second floor landing they turned right and walked down a wide hallway that led to the East wing of the mansion. They walked past a room that was the library and finally came to the end of the hallway where there was a door on the left that led out onto a breezeway that ran the entire length of the East wing. There were five large guest suites on the
East wing of the mansion where overnight guests stayed. Honey and Sarah followed Raúl through the door and out onto the breezeway. The roof of the second story extended out over the breezeway which overlooked the interior courtyard in the center of the mansion. Night light fixtures outside the doors to the guest bedroom suites illuminated the breezeway.

  Honey and Sarah stopped to admire the beauty of the courtyard. By the light of the moon, they could see the water fountain, the fish pond and the many plants that adorned the courtyard. There were several pieces of patio furniture placed throughout the courtyard where someone could relax and enjoy the peace and tranquility afforded by the courtyard.

  After a moment, one of the bodyguards, who was behind them carrying their luggage, mumbled something to get the women’s attention and broke their reverie. Honey and Sarah hurried to catch up with Raúl who was waiting for them down at the end of the breezeway in front of the fifth guest suite. As they passed by the first two guest suites along the breezeway, Honey noticed that the doors were open and she could hear male voices coming from inside the suites. Whoever the men were, they weren’t speaking English or Spanish.

  When Honey and Sarah arrived at the fifth guest suite, Raúl opened the door, went into the room, and turned on the lights for them.

  The bodyguards deposited the luggage on the floor in the center of the living room of the suite and then walked out, without returning the handbags.

  Raúl said, “Welcome to Hacienda Vicario, ladies. You are on the East wing of the mansion where we have four other guest suites just like this one for our out of town visitors.

  “All of our visitors are free to move about the mansion unescorted, but, if you are thinking of escaping, let me remind you about the big cat you heard when we first arrived here. We are miles from anywhere. If you run off into the woods, you’re likely to run into a jaguar.

  “Although you are free to do so, I would recommend that you ladies not leave your suite without an escort. We have some other visitors, a couple of doors down from you, who consider women wandering around unaccompanied as being … what is it you Americans say? Fair game. That’s it. They would consider you to be fair game and just as soon rape you as look at you.

  “In case you get hungry, the suite’s kitchenette is well stocked and the bar is well stocked, also.

  “There is a walkie-talkie in a recharging base next to both of your beds. If you need anything, just press and hold the transmit button and ask for me.”

  Raul handed Honey the key he had used to unlock the door to the suite and said, “I would advise you to keep the door locked and not open it for anyone other than me.”

  Raúl turned to leave.

  “Why are we here?” Honey asked.

  Raúl left the room without answering her.

  * * *

  Later, Honey and Sarah were sitting in two of the plush leather easy chairs in the living room of their guest suite eating the sandwiches they had made for themselves in the—as advertised—well-stocked kitchenette. They had moved the chairs around to where they were facing each other across a coffee table and they had placed their plates and glasses on top of the coffee table. They were discussing their situation trying to figure out what their predicament was.

  “What do you think is going on?” Sarah asked.

  “Apparently, we’ve been kidnapped,” Honey said. “They do that a lot in Mexico.”

  “Then that damn police Comandante must have been in on it, too,” Sarah said.

  “Yes, that would make sense. A lot of that goes on down here, too,” Honey said.

  “Well, I just wish someone would tell us why the hell we’ve been kidnapped,” Sarah said.

  “I don’t think we’re going to like the answer to that question,” Honey replied.

  There was a knock on the door to their guest suite. Honey went to the door and said, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Raúl. Open the door, please.”

  When Honey opened the door, Raúl asked, “Which one of you is Honey Brown?”

  Honey said, “I am.”

  “Come with me,” Raúl said.

  Honey followed Raúl down the breezeway where they went through the door and entered the hallway at the front of the house. They walked down the hallway past the library, then past the stairway where they had come upstairs, continued down the hallway past the other stairway entrance to the hallway, and finally arrived at a large room that was used as a study by the owner of the mansion.

  Raúl and Honey stopped just inside the doorway. The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves full of books. There was a large conference table surrounded by chairs on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room, in the center of the room, there was a large, ornately carved wooden desk. In front of the desk there was a leather couch and on each side of the couch there was an upholstered leather armchair. Sitting behind the desk, there was a dark brown, large and portly man with a full head of greasy black hair combed straight back. He had a bushy black moustache, black bushy eyebrows, and little black piggy eyes. The man was wearing a white guayabera shirt and holding a cigar in one hand and a glass of tequila in his other hand. He looked up and motioned to the couch and chairs in front of the desk.

  “Come, have a seat, Honey Brown. I’m sure you are curious about where you are and why you are here.”

  Honey took her seat in the armchair on the left side of the desk and said, “Who are you?”

  “My name is Carlos Vicario. I am the Boss of the Vicario drug cartel and you are at my hacienda here in Veracruz, Mexico. That’s the state of Veracruz, not the city.”

  “And why have I and my friend been brought here?” Honey asked, wondering how bad her situation really was.

  “When was the last time you spoke with Reb Rogers?” Carlos asked.

  Wondering what any of this had to do with Reb, Honey said, “I last spoke with Reb on Tuesday evening around 9 p.m. Why? What has Reb got to do with this?”

  Carlos leaned back and made a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. “So, you know nothing about him stealing my drug sub and my drugs?”

  Honey sat in stunned silence for several seconds before saying, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Earlier today, your boyfriend, Reb Rogers, and his friend, the Chief of Police of Seaside Beach, stole my drug sub. It was loaded with drugs. They turned the drug sub and the drugs over to the DEA this afternoon. You don’t know anything about any of this?” Carlos asked.

  “Senor Vicario, I swear to you I did not know anything about this,” Honey said, earnestly. “Billy—he’s the Chief of Police there in Seaside Beach—must have talked Reb into helping him after I came down here to Cancun on business. I sure as hell don’t approve of Reb getting involved in stealing your drug sub and drugs. What can I do to make this right for you?”

  “I can see you are a woman who understands business. As you can well imagine, I had a considerable expense in building the drug sub. Nothing that is expected to last for more than a one-time use is cheap anymore. The shipyard at the port of Veracruz charged me an arm and a leg for building those things. I had five of them built, so they gave me a discount, but they were expensive, nonetheless.

  “And, of course, there’s the cost of the drugs we lost and the inconvenience involved,” Carlos mentioned, as he stared across the desk at Honey.

  “How much are we talking about?” Honey asked, meeting Carlos’ stare.

  “Two million for the drug sub and three million for the drugs and another two million for the inconvenience your friend and his friend have caused me,” Carlos replied.

  “I am not a very wealthy woman, Senor Vicario. Would you consider settling for two million?”

  “You think you are in a position to haggle with me, woman?”

  “No, Senor Vicario, it’s just that that’s all the money I can raise on short notice.”

  “Where is the money?”

  “It’s at my bank in Seaside Beach, Alabama. I have e
xactly two million dollars cash money in a safe deposit box there. Reb Rogers has access to the safe deposit box key for emergencies like this.”

  “In that case, I will accept your offer of two million American dollars in payment for the loss of my drug sub, the loss of my drugs, and the inconvenience I have been caused,” Carlos said.

  Carlos opened one of the desk drawers, withdrew a lady’s handbag from it, and set the handbag down on the desk in front of him. Honey instantly recognized the handbag as being hers. Carlos removed Honey’s smartphone from the handbag and slid it across the desk.

  Carlos said, “You should contact Reb Rogers, tell him what the situation is, and tell him to bring the money on the first flight he can book to the city of Veracruz.”

  “Now?” Honey asked.

  “Yes, now.”

  * * *

  Reb was reading in bed when his smartphone rang. The phone was lying on the bedside table next to the alarm clock and, as he grabbed the phone, he noticed that the time was 11 p.m. He saw it was Honey calling and said, “Hey, you okay? I’ve been trying to call you all evening.”

  “Sorry, darling, but I’ve been tied up most of the night and this was the first chance I’ve had to call you.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, but there’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Did you and Billy do something stupid like steal a drug sub loaded with a bunch of drugs?” Honey asked.

  “Guilty as charged. How did you find out about that?”

  “About that. Reb, I’ve been kidnapped along with Sarah.”

  “You’ve been kidnapped?”

  “Yes, Reb, I’ve been kidnapped. The Vicario drug cartel you stole the drug sub and the drugs from has kidnapped me and they’re holding me for ransom. I’ve worked out a deal with Carlos Vicario though and I need you to do something for me.”

  “Okay, what do you need me to do, Honey?”

  “You remember me showing you where I taped the key to my safe deposit box to the underside of the top of the bedside table on my side of the bed?”

  “I do.”