Feral Nation Series (Book 7): Feral Nation [Sabotage]

by Williams, Scott B.

  “What in the hell?” Keith asked. “Was that an airplane?”

  “Yes! A pretty big one! It had pontoons on it too,” Shauna yelled back at him. “Like one of those float planes that can land in the water!”

  Keith and Bart barely had time to get off the fishing trawler before they all heard the airplane’s engines again. It was coming back around, although this time it sounded like it was flying over the river, just a short distance to the east of them. The sound changed too, as it approached, and it became obvious that the pilot wasn’t just doing another fly-by.”

  “They’re landing on the river!” Keith said. “I’ve got to go and check it out and see what in the hell this is all about!”

  “And I’m going with you!” Bart said.

  Shauna wanted to go too, but Keith insisted that she wait as he and Bart hopped into his patrol boat with their rifles. “Stay here and stay alert! Hopefully, we won’t be gone long!”

  Fourteen

  ERIC AND LUKE FOUND themselves sitting beside an elegant pool under the open sky of the courtyard that was in the middle of Don Carlos’ Monterrey mansion. Don Carlos had dismissed his bodyguards, at least any that were visible from where they sat, and the three men were engaged in conversation like old friends getting together for the first time in years. Carmen’s father was elated by the surprise arrival of his daughter in the wee hours of the morning, and after hearing her story and that of her American rescuers, he was ready to offer the two men the world in order to show his gratitude.

  “We will get you anywhere you want to go. That is a promise! I would like for you to stay here for a while and be my guests, but I understand that you both have other places to be and other people who need your help.”

  Eric was delighted with how things had turned out. For a while there, he had begun to think he’d made a grave mistake, coming here to help Carmen on a gamble that it would also work in his favor the way it indeed had. He and Luke had sweated it out a bit after they arrived, and Carmen was taken away to her father alone. Señor Ortiz was taken to see him as well, they both knew, but in the end, Don Carlos trusted his daughter’s word far more than that of any of his subordinates, and after that brief period of uncertainty, he had sent for Eric and Luke to thank them in person. It was after they made introductions and he heard more of their story from before they met his daughter that Don Carlos commented that he could use men such as them and that he regretted they had other commitments or he would make it very much worth their while to remain in Mexico.

  “Monterrey is my home,” Don Carlos said. “This country is my home. But not all of my countrymen see it the same way. The Fronteras Cartel call themselves that because they have been seeking to control the border since the beginning. But the border wasn’t enough. They want all of the territory north of the border too, and so they are working with these Americans you spoke of, the ones who shot your friends in the back, and we know they are spreading all over Texas, but they won’t stop there. They want everything they can get. The only good thing for us is that they are no longer interested in Los Nuevos territory, or for that matter, any territory in Mexico other than their stronghold in Chihuahua. They are more interested in taking advantage of the situation in your home country, but the truth of the matter is that they were also instrumental in causing much of what has happened there. For us, this is no good, because our business was stable when the American economy was stable. We were doing fine with things the way they were.”

  Don Carlos went on to explain that while Los Nuevos and the older cartels from which they arose had plenty of issues with U.S. law enforcement, they had never considered themselves at war with them, unlike the new Fronteras Cartel. But Fronteras had risen to power so quickly that no one on either side of the border could have foreseen the problems or the threat they were becoming until it was too late. Other, old enemies of the United States from the Middle East and Africa had partnered with them, suppling them with weapons, equipment and personnel, and then after the chaos they created to the north, they found a ready supply of new recruits among the displaced who were out of options and looking for a way to survive. The pieces fell into place quickly, and Don Carlos warned Eric that undoing what Fronteras had already accomplished was going to be a long and difficult task, if it could be accomplished at all.

  “The boat that you have mentioned could be a good option, if you hurry and get your family out in time. If you sail it to the Gulf Coast of Mexico, I can assure you of safe harbor under the watch of Los Nuevos. You could even bring your family here to Monterrey if they have had enough of the sea by the time you arrive. It is the least I can do to repay you for the return of my dearest Carmen.”

  “You are more than generous, Don Carlos, and we will consider your offer when I am there with them again and we talk over our options. But just the transportation to Louisiana is more than enough payment.”

  “I know from what Carmen told me that getting something in return wasn’t your motivation for bringing her home. But still, times are difficult now and you need bargaining power to accomplish things. Bringing gold with you from your last job in Europe was good thinking, and from the story you’ve told me, I know that having it was instrumental in your success at finding your own daughter. I know you don’t want a reward, but I insist on replenishing your supply of that vital commodity that can open so many doors in times like these. What is inconsequential to a man like me could come in quite handy for you and your family, and that goes for Luke and his people too.”

  While Don Carlos was right when he said Eric and Luke hadn’t done what they’d done for monetary gain, both men knew he was also right about the usefulness of a trade item that was still greedily sought after and compact and portable enough to carry. And considering that, they didn’t turn him down when he counted out more than enough one-ounce gold coins to see them through considerable complications ahead. This done, the poolside chat ended so that they could catch up on their sleep well into the following morning. The next afternoon and evening were spent with more talk and dining, and Eric and Luke got the answers to all the questions Don Carlos could answer regarding what he knew of the Fronteras Cartel and their foreign and American supporters. It was the kind of intel Eric couldn’t have gotten north of the border, and for that insight alone the detour he’d made was well worth it. Eric told Don Carlos that he would consider his offer of refuge in Los Nuevos territory, and with that he and Luke said their farewells to the man and prepared for their separate departures the following morning.

  Luke would be flying north with a Los Nuevos pilot in a single engine plane similar to the one he and Eric and Carmen had brought down there. The cartel had safe routes over the canyon and mountain corridors that they knew were presently clear of any air defenses, and Luke would be dropped off on a remote road within the Jicarilla Reservation that very afternoon. Eric’s trip would involve a short flight to the coast, and there he would change planes to one of the cartel’s twin-engine float planes used to ferry cargo from Columbia and Central America. This plane had sufficient range to make the trip across to the northern Gulf coast and take Eric upriver to drop him off before returning to Tamaulipas in a non-stop flight. Eric would be back on the Atchafalaya River the following day after parting with Luke. The arrangements were as favorable as either man could have hoped for.

  “The offer is still good, and it’s not too late to change your mind,” Luke said, as they stood on the tarmac before boarding the two different airplanes.

  “I appreciate it brother, but you’ve done more than enough. It’s time to go back home and look after your people, and to tell those waiting for Nantan, Red and Wolf that they can stop keeping watch. Going with me would only take you farther in the wrong direction, and there’s no room for you on the boat anyway.”

  “All I would need is a place to hang my head over the rail. I’ve never set foot on a boat without puking my guts out once it got moving!”

  “All the more reason to stick to the
deserts and mountains of your ancestors. Take care, Luke.”

  The two men shook hands and then turned away without another word. Eric doubted he’d ever see this new friend and fellow warrior again, but that was how it had always been for him. Eric never forgot those who fought at his side, but when the action was over and it was time to go separate ways, he rarely expected to meet them again. And given the current situation, the odds were even less than usual.

  The flight over to the coastal town of La Pesca was only a short hop, but Eric already knew he would have an overnight layover there, and even though the town seemed like a sleepy fishing village, he knew everything there was run by Los Nuevos, and that he was under their watchful eyes for the duration of his stay. Still, it gave him a chance to relax a bit for the first time since he’d left the Jicarilla Reservation, and Eric spent that time walking on the idyllic beaches, taking in the salt air and listening to the sound of the wind rattling the fronds of the tall palms. There was no reason not to enjoy it while he could, because he knew when he reached the Atchafalaya there was much work to be done. There were still repairs to be made to Dreamtime in addition to the work of sorting out the provisions and gear they would need to put to sea again. All of that was dependent, of course, on Megan and Shauna being there when he arrived, but Eric didn’t waste time worrying about that because he knew he would find out soon enough. He did spend some of his thinking time while on the beach pondering Don Carlos’ offer of a safe haven in Mexico and it wasn’t something Eric would automatically rule out, although initially he’d envisioned taking his family much farther from the U.S. mainland than that. But while Don Carlos was gracious and accommodating in expressing his gratitude, Eric reminded himself that the man was still a cartel drug lord, who like all such men had a ruthless side no one in their right mind would want to cross. That wouldn’t have bothered Eric if he only had himself to think about, but since moving his family as far away from conflict as possible was the whole point of sailing, Eric figured he would probably give Mexico a pass unless circumstances gave him a good reason not to.

  The next morning, he met the pilot at the edge of the wide lagoon between the barrier island beaches and the mainland. The Viking Twin Otter float plane was ideal for the cartel’s delivery operations, and Mack, the expatriate American pilot, told Eric he’d recently made several trips to south Florida, among other places on the Gulf Coast.

  “It’s wide open in some areas,” Mack said. “It hasn’t been this easy to fly a load in there since the early ’80s. Hell, probably half the people in the state are dead, and most of the lower peninsula still looks like it’s been bombed since the hurricane hit. There’s nothing left to keep people there, but it’s perfect for us, and unfortunately, some of our competition.”

  “Isn’t it hard to sell product when the market’s been wiped out?”

  “It’s not wiped out. It’s just shifted. There’s always a market, and Florida and the rest of the south is just a staging point for moving it north and elsewhere. I’m not saying there’s no risk, because there is. Hell, we could get unlucky on this flight and get blown out of the sky today. I’m just saying, as you already know, there’s not much in the way of normal surveillance and defense operations going on up there these days.”

  “And the Atchafalaya? Have you been there recently?”

  “Not since summer, but that area got hit hard too. Both by the hurricane and the trouble out of Baton Rouge and New Orleans, from what I understand. Why are you going there anyway?”

  Eric left out most of the details, but did allow that he had family there. It was reason enough and Mack didn’t probe.

  “We should be fine. We’ll come in low from offshore and fly up the middle of the basin. You can give me directions when we get close. I can set her down anywhere on the main river, and in any of the bigger dead lakes and bayous too.”

  Once they were airborne, Eric had nothing to do but continue his conversation with Mack. Doing so was much easier than it had been in the Cessna, since Mack had proper headsets, and while they were over the open Gulf, there were no distractions with navigational concerns. Mack told Eric he’d been working in the business for over three decades, and he’d seen a little of all of it and of course, he’d had his share of close calls. He told Eric even more than Don Carlos had about the rival factions in northern Mexico, and what he knew of the Fronteras Cartel’s ambitions north of the border.

  “I’m not surprised a bit to hear about their collaboration with that C.R.I. outfit. The big cartels have always bought off local law enforcement and even military personnel, either paying them to keep quiet or recruiting them right out of their units by doubling or tripling their pay. It sounds like Fronteras is building their own private army, and I’m sure they’ll need it to do what they’re trying to do. Los Nuevos isn’t interested in fighting them over Texas, but if they move farther east and especially into Florida, it’ll be different.”

  “I don’t think the fight is going to be just between them,” Eric said, enlightening Mack as to what he’d seen farther north. “The Army will be moving in to clean that mess up. It’s just a question of when.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, but then, I haven’t been in the habit of hanging around for long in the States even since before the shit hit the fan there. They can have it all, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Eric didn’t care about Mack’s opinion of the country or what he’d been doing for a living since he left, but he was a source of information, and considering how hard that was to come by these days, Eric found the man worth listening to. His accounts of his recent forays into Florida confirmed that it was best avoided, but more interestingly, he mentioned some out of the way stopovers between Mexico and South America that Eric had already considered as possible options for later. Most notable of these were the small islands among the reefs of Belize and those of the Mosquito Coast region of Honduras and Nicaragua. All were reachable in the schooner, and Bart had already mentioned the area to Eric during the voyage from Florida.

  Mack brought the Twin Otter in low past the abandoned oil rigs of the northern Gulf and soon they were flying over the debris-strewn marsh and rubble that had been Morgan City. Much had happened since Eric and Jonathan had first made their way up that river in the inflatable dinghy, but Eric hoped he would soon be putting these swamps and marshes astern for good. He directed Mack to follow the old river channel upstream and before long, they caught sight of I-10 in the distance and passed directly over Vic’s riverfront home where he’d left Dreamtime tied to the dock. The schooner wasn’t there though, and neither was Vic’s trawler, Miss Anita. Eric was puzzled but figured the logical place to look next was the bayou behind Keith’s property. Mack banked and made a wide circle downriver and then brought it in low over the narrow bayou. When Eric spotted both vessels as well as Keith’s patrol boat at the dock there, he told him to circle back around and land as close as possible in the main river. It was the nearest place the plane could land, and he would get off on the bank and cut through the swamp on foot if he had to.

  Mack made a perfect landing and taxied up to a narrow mud bar on the west side of the river. Eric was still standing on the pontoon, getting his gear out when both of them heard the sound of an outboard motor headed their way.

  “I’ve got to get out of here, buddy!” Mack said.

  “It’s probably my brother, but yeah, take off! I’m good.”

  Mack pulled out into the channel and gunned the engines just as Keith’s boat came into view. Eric saw that Bart was with him, but both of them were so focused on the aircraft that they didn’t see him standing there on the bank, trying to wave them over. Keith did his best to catch up and intercept him before Mack gained takeoff speed, but he was simply too late. Eric watched as his brother followed a short distance and then reduced power. He hoped Bart wouldn’t open fire and he was relieved when he heard no shots. Eric knew both of them had to be wondering why in the hell the plane had flown over t
he bayou and then landed here before leaving again so quickly, and just as he figured, Keith turned the boat around to come back and scan the banks, looking for clues. They didn’t recognize him at first, even though he gave them a friendly wave, and Eric found himself staring down the barrel of Bart’s M4 until Keith was close enough that the old man could see his mistake.

  “ERIC!” Keith yelled, after cutting the power to idle. “What in the hell? Whose airplane was that?”

  “My private charter!” Eric grinned. “I figured since I’ve mostly been traveling the hard way, I’d go first class for a change!” Before he could respond, Eric switched to the questions he’d been dying to ask? “Why’d did you move the boats down here from Vic’s? Have you seen Shauna and Megan? Did they get back?”

  “Everybody’s here but you, son!” Bart said. “We’ve been waiting here wondering what was taking you so long!”

  Fifteen

  ERIC KNEW HIS BROTHER Keith wasn’t going to be happy about the news he brought from Mexico, but he soon learned that it only backed up what Keith had already gleaned from everything Shauna and the others told him and what he and Bart had seen firsthand when they crossed into Texas to pick them up.

  “All the rumors I’d been hearing before any of you got here were true,” Keith said. “I had hoped the cartel activity was limited to the border towns, but this is bigger than I expected.”

  “Way bigger,” Eric said. “You can’t fight it, Keith. Once they move into Louisiana, it’ll be exactly like that Reyes guy told you. You’ll have to either join them or go to the camps. That’s why you need to just leave with us. We’ve both done our part, Keith, but it’s time to put family first now.”