by Thomas Craig
These checkered periods were unfortunate. Distressing ways to learn how to evolve and didn’t define the entire population of these countries that held such beautiful and diverse people and cultures.
Between 1980 and 2000, Colombia was unfortunately world-renowned for violence and exportations of cocaine and marijuana. It would shake that over time, but the lingering cartels and rebels that kept the drug trade alive were not helping. The good people of Colombia would prevail, but they would need to continue the fight against evil opportunists that bred in their lovely cities and towns. They would also need a program that connects the farmers to an infrastructure that promotes their legitimate crops and sustainability of their safety to and from the markets.
Getting in the way of progress were people like the Bagadorez brothers. The opportunistic poster children for evil incarnate. They were not actually twins, but rather siblings that looked very much alike. Never seen apart from one another, the scrawny but scrappy pair were in their early twenties, rarely spoke, and loved to inflict pain at every opportunity.
The brothers stood side-by-side in silence, looking out over the small fishing town of Casuarito. Under the moonlight, at the edge of the Orinoco River, they crouched down and proceeded to grab fists full of thick mud, applying it heavily and very unevenly on their faces, necks, and arms. They finished up by adding mud to their hair before walking towards the town at a casual pace. It looked as if someone poured dirty wax all over their heads and arms. They were unrecognizable and a little scary looking.
There was little reason for people to be out and about at night in this town. The only light posts were near the town's one gas station, laundry mat, and convenience store. The brothers avoided these streets as they walked through the town’s shadows. Their evening stroll came to an end as they stopped next to a dumpster and looked out over land leading to an abandoned two-story building overlooking the Orinoco.
They watched as three figures emerged from the old rundown building and started to walk towards their location. The brothers slowly stooped behind the dumpster and began screwing suppressors onto the muzzles of their pistols. They doublechecked their clips and chambered the weapons ready to eliminate any threat that came their way.
The three people came closer and closer until they were only twenty feet away, easily within the kill-shot range for the two brothers. The brothers were warned about this place by their employer, and it looked like the information held true. Looking at each other in silence, their eyes and facial expressions were having a conversation.
Neither brother anticipated hitting this location and these people at this moment. In fact, as easy as it would be to take these three people out right now, the brothers did not know if others from the two-story structure were watching over these people; an attack now may reveal their presence. They could not risk being discovered just yet. They lowered their pistols and allowed the party of three to pass not realizing how close they all came to dying at that moment.
Across town, Tazario, Tiki, and the local ELN leader had just sat down for drinks in Tiki’s recently acquired hacienda. As expected, Tazario brought with him a few women to entertain the ELN, but that was the furthest thing from the mind of these three men.
The air was thick with mistrust and paranoia.
The ELN leader voiced his displeasure of changing the meeting location at the last minute and protested, “This is not how we operate. You know this. If locations and times are to be changed last minute, it better be our doing, or you provide a good reason.”
“Yes. My apologies, again. It couldn’t be helped. I had access to this secured location and had no time to vet a comfortable spot across the river,” Tiki replied. His answer seemed to have settled down the ELN leader.
Tazario had already come into the meeting with a chip on his shoulder, so it only exasperated the situation when Tiki deliberately dismissed the arrangements Tazario made in Puerto Ayacucho.
Feeling underappreciated for what he had done for the cartel and thinking Tiki might be looking for a pound of flesh for losing the Santa Marta operation and mansion, Tazario was on high alert.
Due to Esperanza’s call, Tiki was on high alert as well. He was struggling with the thought that his protégé may be stepping out of line and planning something detrimental to the cartel, or him personally. There was a new, but palpable lack of trust between Tiki and Taz, which precipitated Tiki bringing extra muscle and forcing the change of venue.
For the moment, they both seemed to put their differences aside and discussed how the Ibagué Cartel was looking forward to higher production rates from this faction of the ELN. As promised, the ELN had recruited many more growers and were motivated to lock in distribution beyond the borders.
Tiki was doing most of the talking and most of the drinking. The meeting was going well for the ELN leader, as he was agreeing to terms that were favorable to their capabilities and cause.
Tazario thought the terms were generous but at his expense. Tiki was purposely promising things on behalf of Tazario, making the conversation a bit awkward. The ELN leader wasn’t reading the room, due to being focused on the terms and income to his group.
“To assure you get the support from us you need, Tazario will stay in this area, overseeing the exchanges and distribution,” Tiki revealed without any previous hint or consultation with Tazario.
Tazario just smirked and gave a passive nod of agreement. He had no intentions of staying here.
“Yes, this will work out well. Tazario is more than capable of selling your increased production. And he can also do his favorite activity for your men, play pimp.” Tiki laughed as he insulted Tazario.
There were a few more subtle insults thrown in by Tiki about Tazario and his women that were intended to get a reaction from Tazario. Tazario held his tongue.
The hacienda was heavily guarded with a dozen men that Tiki traveled with and another six to eight armed men brought by the Leader of the ELN.
Tazario only came with a few women, making him look like a pimp more than a high-level Cartel member. He knew Tiki could be barbaric and unrefined, but did not think he would be under such a character attack. He was boiling on the inside.
“Let us move to the patio for cigars and more drinks. I hope you two ate before you came. If not, I will likely drink you under the table if you try keeping up,” Tiki bragged as we motioned them both to follow.
He picked up a small wooden box filled with cigars and stepped out onto a large patio that was oval-shaped and lined with 20-foot-tall juniper trees, making it a private location. There were several stone benches around the edge of the patio against the junipers and a round wooden table in the center.
The three of them selected their cigars and began clipping and lighting them, then sat at the center table.
Tazario casually looked over the space and noticed a soda can on one of the benches. Placed next to the can, were six marble-sized rocks.
He grinned, drew deeply of his cigar, then tilted his head back and exhaled the smoke to the stars above.
“You seem to be in a better mood, Tazario. Are you thinking about how good your women are getting it right now?” Tiki laughed loudly, as he took another jab at Tazario.
The ELN leader did not miss this dig and laughed as well.
Tazario just smiled and nodded at them.
Two misshapen creatures stepped through the juniper trees onto the patio. It was the Bagadorez brothers. They both extended a hand forward and released another four rocks onto the patio, before raising their other hand that held the pistols with suppressors.
“What the hell is this?!” Tiki shouted.
Two of Tiki’s guards emerged from the house, alerted by Tiki’s yelling. They were quickly provided matching holes in their chests from the guns of the brothers.
“I didn’t just bring women with me. These are my two men. By the count of rocks they dropped and those two guards that lay dead at your feet, we have eliminated your twelve hired hands.
Sit down and shut up for once!” Tazario demanded.
Tiki was in disbelief. He came here with the upper hand. He was doing exactly what he planned, and it was going so well. He thought, how could his incompetent men, all of them, let Tazario and these two mud-covered mutes ruin everything?
The ELN leader just sat at the table drinking his whiskey and smoking his cigar. He didn’t even shout for his men to come forward. He knew they were all drunk with their pants around their ankles with Tazario’s women. He felt he was not in any immediate danger as this cartel power struggle unfolded in front of him.
“You will pay for this Taz. You will pay with your life,” Tiki forced the words through his clenched teeth.
“I doubt that. You are a thug and a moron, and if I don’t move on you now, you will run the Ibagué Cartel into the ground. You have been playing checkers, while I have been playing chess. Tell me one thing, old friend. Do you want to die painfully slow, with the smallest of chances there is a way to escape death? Or do you want me to end it for you quickly?” Tazario asked still grinning.
Tiki leaped forward and had his hands on Tazario’s throat, squeezing. It did not last long as a bullet tore into Tiki’s lower back, dropping him to the ground in extreme pain.
“It appears you have chosen,” Tazario said as he rubbed his throat gently for a few seconds.
“We will soon take you downriver, deeper into the Amazon, and feed you slowly to the piranhas or an anaconda. I can't say that you'll be missed Tiki, but I would be remiss if I did not say ‘thank you’ for what you have taught me and the opportunities you have given me over the years,” Tazario said with a raised glass.
“However, the cartel has outgrown you, and has no more use for your loose cannon, short-term thinking,” Tazario shared before giving the Bagadorez brothers the sign to take Tiki away.
One of the brothers pistol-whipped Tiki across the side of his head knocking him out cold. The other brother struggled to collect Tiki's limp body unto his shoulder and then they both proceeded through the junipers the way they came in moments ago.
Tazario turned to the ELN leader, sat back down, and sipped his whiskey before asking, “Do you foresee any of this being a problem?”
The ELN leader replied, “No, not really. Does it change any of our terms?”
Tazario replied, “Only one for now, and that is I will assign someone else to work with you in this district. It will not be me, but it will be one of my men. Regarding the rest of the evening, you and your soldiers are welcomed to stay here to enjoy the whiskey and women, but I have more business to conduct and I will need your assurances there will be no distractions and my women will not be mistreated. Yes?”
The ELN leader nodded, threw back the rest of his whiskey, and took himself and his cigar through the house likely to find his way to one of the women Tazario provided earlier. Tazario stayed behind thinking about the next step of his plan this evening.
The Bagadorez brothers carried Tiki through the front lawn to the driveway and up to the lead jeep that was parked in front of six other vehicles. One brother walked up to the driver’s door, opened it, and pulled the lifeless body of one of Tiki’s guards. The other dumped Tiki in the back seat and began to bound his legs and arms together. They both removed from Tiki’s person all his gold bracelets, wristwatch, and cash before starting the jeep and driving away.
Two blocks south, two trucks of armed men Tazario had arranged were waiting in case things went sideways at the hacienda. The men were just told by phone to help the Bagadorez brothers with another problem that needed to be dealt with. When the brothers pulled up in their lava skin and only gave the group a single hand gesture to follow them, the hired guns started their engines and followed.
Chapter 28
The Rivers Edge
Agent Abbasi, Arya, and I left the two elite commandos, Holliday, and Agent Redford behind as we headed out to do some reconnaissance in the Town of Casuarito. We considered the need to do the same across the river in Puerto Ayacucho, however, Lauren discovered through satellite images significant movement into Casuarito and a large gathering on the north end of the town that was very suspect. Not to mention Cooley was adamant we were not to cross the border.
We cleared the long field between our dilapidated hideout and the edge of town and moved towards the bridge that carried people across the Orinoco river. Casuarito was very dark and not many streets or shops were lit at night. We were moving from one landmark to the next, using the bridge to align us with our next stretch of distance to cover.
We crossed the road and paused on the other side against a massive metal pylon that served as one of many anchors for the bridge structure. I felt Arya’s hand slapping at my arm until it latched on and squeezed.
I turned to find Arya with her head tilted back and slightly twitching.
“What is wrong with her?” Agent Abbasi asked as he stepped towards us.
I wanted to say something like, she is clairvoyant, and these episodes happen when she senses something. But I knew that may be hard to believe, and I was unsure if Agent Abbasi would extend the discretion and trust needed with this information. Plus, I would feel horrible sharing this without Arya’s consent. My fear grew that any other answer would have Agent Abbasi bench Arya for health reasons.
“Trust me on this, Marco. Give us a minute.”
As soon as I said this, Arya snapped forward and let out a deep breath before looking us both over.
She hoped no one noticed when these unplanned episodes took place. It appeared this time would not be one of those times as Agent Abbasi was right next to her, looking her over.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” she said as she motioned Abbasi to take a few steps back to give her space.
“You sure about that? You were seizing pretty hard there for a minute. We should take you back,” Abbasi suggested.
“I agree,” Arya said to my surprise. She looked at me and gave me a head nod that meant, just agree, and go with it.
A thought from earlier was nagging at me. I knew I should have taken Holliday and Arya and left Abbasi behind. I should have listened to my gut. Abbasi, however, was adamant to go on the night scout. Here we were, ending it before we even started it.
As we walked back across the field to the two-story structure, Arya shared her vision with me.
“Had I stayed with the commandos, I would not have known that men were coming to attack this place. We either all need to be here to have a fighting chance, or leave now to avoid the assault,” she advised me.
I secretly texted Lauren to call us all on our radios to advise us she picked up chatter about attacking the location we held. I added that it was Arya’s vision, but we need it coming from our comms person. She replied a minute later with one letter ‘k’.
As we returned to our post on the river, Lauren called over the radios and did her best acting, saying that she picked up some chatter and believed our cover may be blown.
“Do we stay and face them? Take a stand like at the Alamo?” Holliday asked as he started taking inventory of our arsenal.
“Preferably not the Alamo,” I responded with hopes of a better outcome for us.
“No need to stay here, it is a death trap.” Abbasi said. “You two set booby-traps up here. Leave the mesh in this window with something poking out that resembles a gun,” he told the commandos. “Three of us dig in around the perimeter to create a crossfire of sorts.”
“Okay, that sounds better than the Alamo,” Holliday said.
“We need to position ourselves in such a way to allow us to retreat to the Blackhawk if we are outnumbered,” Arya suggested.
“Lauren has the pilots starting up the Helicopter to get over here as soon as possible. ETA 10 minutes,” I relayed to everyone.
A minute later, we were outside with army commando foldable shovels excavating rich soil at a frantic pace. It only took three minutes to dig two of the three holes in the loose soil big enough for grown men to lay in a fet
al position to avoid detection or bullets flying their way. The holes were position north and southwest of the structure, about 50-feet apart, creating the crossfire effect to maximize the damage on the attackers.
As soon as I started on the third hole, the remaining team members came running out of the house towards me. One commando took the shovel and dug the hole a little deeper before laying in it and covering himself with the black mesh from the window.
“I guess it is ‘go time’?” I said to anyone listening.
Arya informed me one of the commandos spotted approaching vehicles from the north through their scope.
“It appears the assault is going to happen a minute or two before the Blackhawk gets here. We need to hold our ground for a few minutes,” she said.
“This fight may only last a few minutes,” I replied.
I led the group to the other hole where the second commando repeated what the first commando had done.
“Best shot stays here with the commando. Who would that be?” Abbasi asked us.
All of us raised our hands.
“Show me where that third hole is, Lou,” Holliday said as he picked up the shovel.
“Straight over there,” I pointed and off he started to run. “It may not be deep enough!” I yelled. I could see his shoulder's slight slump and heard him curse a few words.
If we were being honest, Arya likely could claim the best marksmanship.
The rest of us ran to the west across a short field and past a few small houses before finding a dirt road heading north. We stayed in the shadows as we moved up the road until we saw the approaching vehicles Lauren had warned us about a few minutes earlier.
Two trucks were being led by a jeep which pulled over behind a hut just north of the river base camp we just left.
“Heads up, we have eyes on 9 bad guys on foot coming from the north.” Abbasi spoke into our comms to let the commandos and Holliday know it was happening now.
