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NEW TIDES

PROLOGUE

Two Hispanic men sat at a table outside a local Mexican restaurant in the city limits of Rome Georgia. On the table in front of each man was a Carta Blanco beer, chips, and salsa. The salsa was the owner’s private recipe, and not served to the regular customers, and was poured into two separate bowls in front of each man by the waiter. The waiter was very nervous and almost spilt the salsa. Like all the workers at the restaurant they knew who Emilio was and who he worked for.

The man named Emilio requested from the owner that no one else be seated outside in the small courtyard area until he and his guest had left. The request by the man happened at least once a month and on the rare occasion maybe twice in one month. When Emilio asked for something, the owner did as asked of him without hesitating. Crossing Emilio was the same as crossing the benefactor and no one crossed Senor Raul Garcia. Death was a blessing compared to what Senor Garcia would do to you. Most of the owners help was supplied by Senor Garcia. 

Emilio had worked for Raul Garcia for the last ten years. He was chauffeur and bodyguard to the man. His job was given to him by no other than Carlos Ramirez himself, the number one drug kingpin in the world today. Ramirez was more like a CEO of a large company with micro cartels in Colombia, Peru, Venezuela and several key states in the U.S. The only difference in Carlos Ramirez and other CEO’s was the fact that he was on the top ten most wanted lists of the DEA and the FBI. Emilio was honored to have been given such a job by the man. His loyalty to Carlos Ramirez was unquestionable.

He did Raul Garcia’s bidding but reported back to Senor Ramirez and his brother-in-law Dominga Chavez. It was the later who worried Emilio, because his son was here and Emilio could see a power shift coming very soon. Antonio Chavez would take over some day soon and Raul Garcia didn’t have a clue as to what was happening. Senor Garcia was too busy playing games with the people he blackmailed and not paying attention to the drug distribution business.

But on this day instead of keeping Senor Ramirez up to date on what Raul Garcia was doing, he was meeting with a man by the name of Enrique Guerrero on behalf of Senor Garcia. Enrique would be overseeing the execution of a problem that was starting to interfere with the distribution of the product Senor Ramirez supplied to the world and in this particular case to the Southeastern United States.

A woman prosecutor was stirring up trouble for Senor Garcia’s drug distribution network. It was now known she would be bringing a DEA task force in to the area, to help with the growing drug problem and violence.

Because of Raul Garcia’s continuing fixation with his exploitive movies of the people he blackmailed into doing his bidding, now things had gotten out of hand. Something had to be done quickly and Lori Baldwin was the first on the list. Even Senor Garcia was afraid of the two men in Mexico.  Emilio could tell by the way he talked that Carlos Ramirez and Domingo Chavez worried him. Neither man put up with excuses when it came to the business of trafficking drugs.

Drug shipments had slowed considerably over the last several weeks because of three major drug raids by the DEA in key distribution states. Alternative ways were being required in getting the product out of Miami and shipped northward. If the DEA was able to get a foothold on the size and scope of the distribution network, it could spell trouble for Senor Garcia and cost him and the cartel hundreds of millions of dollars. That could not be tolerated at all. The order had been given to kill the lady prosecutor before it was too late. She was bringing too much attention to the area.

Emilio asked the man sitting across from him if he understood his instructions.

“Of course I do Emilio. It will not be a problem. I know just the man to handle this problem for Senor Garcia.”

“Who do you have in mind Enrique?” Emilio asked knowing what the answer was, but wanted to be sure.

“I will have Miguel Sanchez and his people handle this. Do you want it messy or clean?” The subordinate asked.

Enrique could tell that Emilio didn’t like his answer. Miguel Sanchez was a violent man who was becoming a loose cannon in the organization and that was not good. On more than one occasion Enrique had thought of letting his brother Ernesto take care of Miguel Sanchez once and for all. Enrique’s job could be in jeopardy and quite possibly his life if Miguel went too far.

“I think in the case Enrique, with it being a woman, perhaps clean would be best. Make it look like a robbery. I repeat make it a clean hit and then make Miguel Sanchez vanish.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem Emilio; I will make sure Miguel understands his instructions clearly. I also have someone else in line to take care of Miguel.”

“You do understand Enrique, that failure to get this problem taken care of without any negative reflection towards Senor Garcia and the organization could reflect badly upon your standing with Senor Garcia.”

    Enrique swallowed hard and his stomach started to burn and it wasn’t from the salsa. He knew exactly what the man sitting across from him was saying, failure was not an option.

“You have my personal guarantee Emilio that what you have asked of me, all will go smoothly and the woman will be taken care immediately.”

“I knew I could count on you Enrique and will relay your message to Senor Garcia of your personal guarantee on this matter.”

Grabbing the cold beer Enrique took a long drink from the bottle hoping it would help his burning stomach. It didn’t and he knew he was a dead man if Miguel failed to take care of the lady properly.

Shit, maybe he should have Ernesto handle the killing. The only thing was this was not the kind of killing that he wanted his younger brother to do. It wasn’t that he didn’t think his brother could do the job but in this case he didn’t want Ernesto to take the chance if things went bad for some reason. Ernesto was his tool for taking care of the people within the organization like Miguel Sanchez.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now except hope things went without any trouble. He stood up and said his goodbye’s to Emilio and left. His stomach continued to burn.

After calling Miguel and asking him to come by his house for a little chat, Enrique called his brother and asked him to come by also. He felt it necessary to have Ernesto around when he was in the same room with Miguel Sanchez. The man was wound up tight and could explode into a violent rage at a moments notice. The ‘meth’ was taking over and Miguel was getting out of control.

Enrique could tell from Miguel’s behavior that he was scared of Ernesto and he should be. Miguel was a violent bully, but his brother was a highly trained killer. His brother never got mad, Ernesto killed with no emotion whatsoever. Ernesto enjoyed killing especially if he could track the man down and kill him like animal.

“So, what do you want Enrique, I am very busy.” Miguel was trying to sound tough, but Enrique could see him cutting his eyes toward where Ernesto was standing. Good, if the idiot had any common sense he would be afraid of Ernesto.

“I have a job for you. It comes from Senor Garcia personally.”

Enrique decided to use Garcia’s name in order to get the point across to Miguel of how important it was to do the job right. Even Miguel Sanchez understood what disobeying Raul Garcia could mean, he hoped. He was so wired out it was hard to get a reading on what Miguel thought or how he would react.

“What does he want me do Enrique?” Miguel was all ears now. If Raul Garcia needed something done, then it meant someone needed to be killed. He liked these kinds of jobs.

“Senor Garcia wants you to kill a woman by the name of Lori Baldwin. She is causing trouble for the organization.”

“You have to be kidding Enrique, is this some kind of joke. I don’t think it’s funny. You know that woman is about to put my brother in prison for a very long time.”

He was coming out of the chair as he spoke, when a cocking noise sounded behind him stopping him from moving any further.

“Please sit back down and listen to Enrique, to get up again until my brother is through with you will result in your death Miguel. You know I don’t make idle threats.”

Enrique looked at his brother and nodded his head in thanks. He was glad he had called Ernesto and asked for him to be at the meeting. When Miguel was through with the job of killing the woman, he decided it was time to have Miguel disappear just as Emilio had said. Without Senor Garcia’s blessing it would have been hard to justify and could get himself killed. But Emilio had said make him vanish after he killed the lady prosecutor and that was just as if Senor Garcia had said it personally. Enrique was happy that he finally had permission to take care of the pest.

“This is not a joke Miguel. He wants the woman killed as soon as you can arrange it. It is to look like a robbery and he doesn’t want it messy. That is Senor Garcia’s instructions. Do you understand the orders?”

Miguel Sanchez looked at Ernesto with a sullen expression on his face and said, “Yes I understand. It will be done by the end of the week. Is that soon enough for you Enrique?”

“I will let Senor Garcia know what the time table is and that you understand what his instructions are Miguel.”

“If you are you through with me Ernesto, I need to go plan this out with my posse.”

“Yes, I have nothing else to discuss with you, Miguel.”

Miguel Sanchez decided on the way out the door, not only would the hit be messy for the woman who was prosecuting his brother Juan. When he was finished with the woman prosecutor, he would come and kill Enrique and his brother Ernesto. It was time he started running the show around here. This town was about to find out who the big man was.

His drug intake was so high that it clouded his judgment. Miguel would never have the smarts to run the illegal drug business the way Raul Garcia ran the business. It took brains as well as might and Miguel never had an abundance of smarts to begin with. His education was limited to the third grade; he quit and followed his brothers to Los Angeles where he was educated on the streets. He eventually made his way east and ended up working for Enrique.

What Miguel didn’t realize or understand was that his drug habit was so out of control; he actually lived in a violent fantasy world of his own making. His paranoia was growing with each passing day and his fantasies of becoming the big man fueled his desires and clouded his judgment.

Enrique looked at his brother and said, “When Miguel is finished with the job, make him disappear and make it very painful for him Ernesto. He has become a detriment to our organization. That punk could get me killed and I can’t allow that to happen.”

“Whatever you say Enrique, with that man it will be a pleasure.” Ernesto pulled out a wicked looking knife and started admiring it. It was hand made and razor sharp.

“I knew when I asked you join me in this business that we would make a good team. Together my brother, we can make a lot of money if we do as Senor Garcia asks.”

 CHAPTER 1

Raw Violence

 Lori Baldwin glanced outside as she hurried by the front window to see if the kids had gotten on the school bus yet. As usual, they were going at each other back and forth, but Lori knew that they cared for each other and were very close. It was a typical morning; everybody was late getting up and getting ready for the coming day. She grabbed her keys and briefcase and headed for the door.

Lori was to be in a very important meeting this morning at eight o’clock. The local law enforcement and DEA agents who were part of a Mobile Enforcement Teams (MET) would be flying in from Florida and driving from Atlanta as part of this meeting. It was about the gangs and the sale of illegal drugs that was starting to rear its ugly head in town. Lori wanted to stop it before it got out of control. After the meeting, she had to prepare her opening brief in a case against a known drug dealer. It was going to be a busy day.

Drugs where already a problem in town and violence would follow, because it always did and there were plenty of statistics to prove her point. Lori was a prosecutor and knew all about gangs and drugs. She worried about Megan and Nicole being at school where there could be a problem of this type. Everyday she tried saying something about drugs and so far, it looked like she was able to keep them from trying them.

She walked in quickstep and got in the car, started it up and backed down the driveway, looking to see that the girls were still on the sidewalk. There was a young man up the street looking toward her and the girls. Lori then saw him motion to something or someone down the street from him.

He looked familiar and then it dawned on her who he was. Miguel Sanchez was his name and he was one of the gang members she was trying to run out of town. Miguel was as cruel and violent as his brother was. Unlike most of the people above Miguel in the cartel, he used the products he was selling. The man was an addict in the worst way and his behavior was becoming a concern to his immediate boss Enrique Guerrero.

She was also in the process of prosecuting his brother Juan Sanchez, for murder. It was then she noticed the foreign made sedan with the dark windows slowing and stopping to pick up Miguel. He pointed toward her and the kids and then got in the car.

Lori, for a long time, would not know what made her back towards the girls honking the horn telling them to get in the car and stay down. In her wildest dreams, did she ever think that these people would come after her?

By the time the girls quit being so startled to react to what their mother was saying; the sedan was almost beside her car. Just as Megan and Nicole got into the back seat, with Lori screaming for them to get down in the floor, the back window of the Explorer disintegrated into a million tiny pieces, covering the girls and their mother. Then the side windows went, and Lori, who had tried to go over the seat into the back to protect the girls, ended up being hit several times with the automatic weapons bullets, besides all the glass that hit her and sliced her up.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime to them. Their screaming seemed to go on and on, echoing through the neighborhood.

Friends and neighbors began to come out of their houses and run towards the vehicle. The SUV was a mess; all the windows were shattered and a line of bullet holes went down the length of it. Steam was pouring out of the hood and other liquids out of the bottom of the car running into the street.

The whole block was hysterical, not sure what to do. Afraid to look in the car at what they might see, one of the neighbors finally came to his senses after the shock of seeing the violence, and called 911.

She felt very numb as if time was standing still; Lori was looking at the girls and tried to speak to them to calm them down, but could not seem to get the words to come out of her mouth. Finally, she said very softly to them, “Listen to me, girls; there is a box in my closet. In the box is an address book. Go to the “H’s,” and look for a Simon Hardman. Do you hear me, girls? You must do this, and tell him who you are and what has happened.” Then Lori passed out due to a lack of blood. The girls, stunned by all that had happened and by their mom’s unconsciousness, thinking she might be dead, they started to scream again, wishing the nightmare would end.

The ride to the hospital was in slow motion for Megan and Nicole. Neither understood why their world suddenly turned upside down. They just kept looking at each other and holding hands. Neither realized that their mother had saved both of their lives by getting them inside the car and then lying on top of them. Both had a couple of scrapes, but that was it. Their mom was not so lucky; she was behind them in another ambulance. Lori was just barely clinging to life.

The paramedics had already giving her two pints of blood since arriving at the shooting. They were afraid she was going to go into shock. The police officer sitting beside her shook his head in anger and despair, as he watched the two paramedics try to keep her alive until they arrived at the hospital.

Lori felt she had stepped outside of herself; she had no feeling in any part of her body. However, her mind seemed to be functioning clearly. The girls looked as if they had understood her about calling Simon when they got the chance.

God, he would be needed to protect the girls. If he would come that is. She had kept up on him through his sister even though he did not know. Sue had told her all about what he had done in the military and with the DEA. When Simon was at Sue’s house, healing from gunshot wounds, she had nearly gone to see him, but had chickened out. It had been along time since their days as boyfriend and girlfriend in high school, and he didn’t’ know about Megan and Nicole.

The girls would need him more than they ever needed her now that this had happened. Lori still could not believe that the gang had done this. How did they know that she was so close in getting them run out of town? Only a handful of people knew what the plan was for the meeting today. It was too hard to believe that someone in her office would have, could have set her up.

Who it was, and why, she just did not understand. Lori would not know those answers for a long time, and thankfully, she passed out again as the ambulance pulled up to the hospital emergency room entrance.

The girls tried to get out and check on their mom, but the police officer riding with them told them to wait. They did not like this a bit and started to fuss about it. The officer told them it was best for their mom, to get her in the emergency room where they could try to save her life.

“Your mom is in bad shape from protecting you from the shooters. We will also be escorting you back home after the doctor’s release you, and there will be officers at your house until we catch who did this.”

Megan and Nicole just stared at each other realizing for the first time all the danger that was involved. Both started to shake at the same time, the officer grabbed both of them and hugged them, telling them everything would be all right, realizing how lame it sounded.

Officer Johnson was also an angry man. He had two daughters, one of them about the age of these two girls and then his oldest, now, was in college. His youngest would be in the ninth grade and that is what he figured these two girls’ ages were he was hugging now; he did not realize that they were twins. Officer Doug Johnson looked out and saw that is was time to take the girls in. The paramedic’s were opening the door to the ambulance.

The doctors had Lori rushed straight to the operating room; they had stopped the bleeding and needed to get blood back into her quickly or she would not last much longer. Her vital signs were very weak and operating on her to get the bullets and glass fragments out of her might possible kill her. The surgeon looked down at her and thought a human being could go through a meat grinder and look better than this woman did.

Back on the first floor the girls were being looked at by the doctor on call, and all he can think was it was a miracle that all the girls had were at few cut and scratches. He told the girls that they would keep them over night and give them something to help them sleep.

Megan asked him how their mother was doing, and he said, “She is in the operating room and might be for a while.” Then the girls asked him if he would call their Aunt Sue and get her to come and stay with them.

Sue Faraday Malone was not their real aunt but had known them since birth and was good friends with their mother and they had always called her Aunt Sue. Megan and Nicole didn’t know that Sue was there, and trying to fight her way though to get to them.

Sue was finally able to get the police officer’s attention. “Would you please take me to the girls’ room? I am their aunt and I want to see them now,”

Officer Johnson heard her and said, “Follow me, please, and I will show you to their room.”

“Have you found out any information about what happened to their mother?” she asked on the way down the hall.

“No we have not,” he said. “We do know from what the girls said, that your sister said something about a drug gang.”

Sue didn’t correct the police officer about her not being Lori’s sister. Her mission was to get to the girls and get them out of the hospital and the madness. She was the closest thing Lori had to having a sister so why split hairs about it.

“You know she was going after the drug dealers and gangs, Officer Johnson, she was supposed to be gong to a meeting this morning about the gangs that were starting to come into the Rome area.” Sue said.

Officer Johnson looked at Sue and said, “I didn’t know this; I had better call Chief James and let him know. You go on in and see your nieces while I go call Chief James. This will change everything from what I first thought it was. We were thinking it was a car jacking gone bad by some punks who needed some money for their drug habits.”

Sue pushed open the door and when the girls saw her, they nearly knocked the doctor down rushing to her open arms. She wrapped her arms around both of them and squeezed.

“Aunt Sue, they tried to kill Mom!” they shouted.

“Yes, girls I know.” She was amazed that the girls only had a few cuts. She looked over at the doctor and said, “How are they doing?”

The doctor, whose name tag said Dr. Roberta Talbot, told her they would like to keep them over night and watch them. It was a precautionary measure.

“The girls have been through a terrible ordeal and should be watched for signs of shock or trauma for at least overnight.”

Sue replied quickly to the doctor, “I think it would be better if my nieces came home and stayed with me tonight.”

“Okay,” the doctor said, not really wanting to go along with Sue’s request.

“I would like to give them a mild tranquilizer to help them sleep tonight. You may give it to them before they go to bed. It’s not a real strong tranquilizer but it will help them relax.”

“Sounds good to me, Doctor, and would you tell the police that I would like to go ahead, take the girls to my house, and get them away from the craziness and turmoil for now?”

As Sue left with the twins, Megan asks, “Who is Simon Hardman?”

Their mother had said to look in her bedroom closet, and get her personal address book out. They were to look up a man by the name of Simon Hardman and call him and explain what had happened to their mother.

Sue was thunder struck for a moment and then realized what Lori wanted the girls to do was the right thing. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of all the people who should help, he was the man.

“Who is the man mom wants us to call, Aunt Sue? Mom has never mentioned a man by this name before.” Megan asked again.

Sue looked at the girls and said, “He is your father and my brother!”

OLD TIDES

Chapter 1

Nothing’s Private

Two things were taking place at the same time in the southern most part of Miami in the Bay of Biscayne. One was good and positive for the human race. People were coming together to compete in a friendly way and enjoy what had been created into a tropical paradise of nature while the other was the human race preying on the good side of its own kind causing misery and grief for the sake of power and money.

Today was the start of the inter-collegiate Sailing Association racing season. In the year of 1964, the South Atlantic Intercollegiate Sailing Association, ‘SAISA’, was formed for colleges in the Southeast that included colleges from the state of North Carolina all the way down to south Florida. Every year since being formed, southern colleges have been joining the competitive racing association.

On this particular Saturday, there were an even dozen teams competing in a ‘major intersectional’ event called the ‘Key Biscayne Regatta’. The teams would race under the Rule of Sailing and Procedural Rules of the ICSA. It would be an all day event ending with a big party for all participants.

The schools today would use a double-handed dinghy for two person teams. These particular dinghies were a model called Vanguard 420 and was widely used among the collegiate teams. It is a 14-foot mono hull with a beam of 5 feet and a draft of 3 feet. Sails used under the rules of ICSA would be a main and jib sail. The spinnaker sails are against the ICSA rules in collegiate racing.

The course for today’s Regatta will be in a triangle style, with a distance of two miles. Racing teams are divided into A and B groups. Today the A teams will start in odd number boats being one through eleven and B teams with even number boats starting with numbers two through twelve. After one set of races, crews changed boats, so as to give a fair advantage to all teams, since newer boats tend to be faster, it gives all schools an equal chance of winning. Both A and B teams will race twice, with points being totaled from both teams so that when all teams have finished all crews will have sailed in all boats. The college with the lowest score will win.

The first race would begin at eight am sharp this morning, and teams were already lining up behind the start finish line gibing/tacking and doing figure eights behind the start line jockeying for position using their personal experience on judging the wind patterns. The weather was perfect for a Saturday in the tropical paradise of south Florida with the temperature being in the eighties and water temperature in the mid-seventies.

Jonathan Peter Bentley, known by his friends as Pete, would start for the university as part of the A team. His partner’s name was Catherine Brown. Friends called her Cathy. The two of them are considered one of the top teams in the South and Mid-Atlantic colleges and were a sure bet to win today. Either could be a recruiting poster for Florida colleges. Both were tall, tan, physically fit and good looking.

The differences between the two would be their grades and backgrounds. Cathy had a 3.0 grade average, popular around the campus and came from a moneyed family.

Pete carried a 3.9 grade average and had no family; he was a child of the state foster homes of Florida. Pete was also a bit of a loner, but very aggressive whether it was grades or competing in sports.

Growing up in the foster care system had a lot to do with it. His parents or parent had left him in a garbage can when he was born. His mother had been a teenage runaway and a drug addict. Being moved from foster home to foster home until he was put on a ‘Boys Ranch’ at the age of twelve always made him feel like an outsider. It definitely left a lasting impression on him. He was hungry and on a mission to achieve the goal of having wealth. Having a family of his own never crossed his mind.

The ranch had provided him a real home type of environment. All the boys at the ranch were in the same boat as Pete. Life had dealt these kids an unfair hand and the ranch was a way to help even that up, if the boys were willing to work hard.

Each boy was required to maintain at least a B average and after school there was a list of tasks to be done. If the tasks weren’t done you didn’t get to eat supper until they were completed.

On weekends the boys were taken either to the beach or the mall in Fort Myers and allowed to bum around for the day. Each was given enough money to buy lunch and see a movie. That is if their grades met the criteria and tasks around the ranch were completed.

It took a big blond man with the coldest blue eyes, which he would remember for the rest of his life, talking to him to finally get his attitude right. The man actually scared the living shit out of him, but the talk had worked and he had straightened up and became a part of the team at the ranch. He started excelling at school, which helped him get to where he was today. Pete bonded together with several of his roommates to become like brothers once he adjusted to the ranch’s rules. He still kept in touch with them. They were presently stationed in Iraq.

He preferred to be responsible for himself and turned down financial help from the ranch. Any boy who decided to go to college had the option of it being paid for by the ranch. It was a scholarship in the name of Sonny Jackson’s sister.

Sonny Jackson had founded the ranch with the help of several friends after the tragic death of his baby sister.

 Pete and Cathy worked together as a finely tuned team when sailing, but when the boats were dry-docked and time for school academics and other activities were at hand, they rarely spoke to one another.

Pete was the skipper of the team and handled steering and main sail while Cathy handled crew duties like weight shifting, centerboard and jib sail. It was the way they always worked as teammates and so far they were undefeated over the four years they had been competing.

The five-second horn sounded and Pete turned the dinghy in the direction of the start line, cutting off one of his biggest competitors from a rival Florida school. He gave no mercy when it came to racing, there was winning and losing. The adrenaline flowed and he had such intensity and focus when he raced. It was almost as if he could feel every shift and change of the wind ahead of time.

The bay was calm and the wind coming from the southeast would make it a perfect day for sailing and Cathy was handling crew duties perfectly as usual. Right at the edge of maximum speed and having the dinghy cap size, it was harmony in motion with the wind the way they worked together with rudder weight and sails. In a matter of seconds they took the lead and didn’t look back as they raced around each of the three buoys and back to the finish line, another mark in the win column for them. Pete looked forward to the end of the race when he would get his ritualistic hug from Cathy. It was the only time she showed any emotion towards him. His deep dark secret was that he was crazy about her! He was smart enough to know his feelings for her were not reciprocated.

Offers of sponsorship for racing Catamarans when they graduated poured in. Pete was all for it but Cathy had plans on possibly getting married to some prick that was a clone of her father and then working for her father’s financial empire as Pete liked to think of it.

Pete had met Cathy’s father only once and came away with a lasting impression of a complete asshole and an enemy for life. He had been told in no uncertain terms that he could be teammates with his Catherine, but he had better not get any ideas about dating her or anything else of that nature.

The man then made the mistake of his life by getting in Pete’s face and trying to threaten him. The prick couldn’t be happy with his little talk, no he wanted to be the big man in front of his daughter.

Besides Pete’s passion for sailboat racing and for Cathy, he was a Black Belt in the discipline of Kung Fu. He would also practice Yoga every morning and evening when possible. It kept him in great shape for sailing. It also kept him in a calm and peaceful state of mind.

When Cathy’s father made the mistake of getting in his face, Pete had politely asked him to step back and calm down. That really set Cathy’s dad off. He proceeded to become more hostile and belligerent towards Pete. The final straw was when he pushed Pete backwards causing him to trip and fall to the floor.

Pete had been left with no choice but to physically assert himself and put a stop to the bullshit. In one quick fluid motion he had grabbed Cathy’s father by his testicles in what was called a groin snatch and squeezed with the right amount of pressure to put him down. He had left him there rolling around in his own vomit.

The ramifications of that little episode would come back in the near future to haunt him. It had happened so fast that no one witnessed what had happen except for Cathy and she never brought it up.

Their second race of the day went about like the first and Pete got his hug afterwards and headed back to the dock area of the yacht club. As he walked to the area where the food and drinks were set up for the big party after the racing was finished, he noticed a very beautiful lady watching him, almost to the point of staring him down from the bar area.

She was the picture perfect Latin woman from this part of south Miami. She had dark full thick wavy hair that fell down around her face and eyes so brown with just a hint of lipstick and very little makeup for the face. A woman like this didn’t need a whole lot of make up, it would be a waste. She was truly breath taking and why was she looking at him? He actually tripped walking from the dock to the bar. The lady sat her drink down and walked up to Pete; she couldn’t be over five feet tall Pete thought.

“Hello, I am Alexandra Menendez but my friends call me Alex.”

She held out her hand for Pete to shake. He could smell her perfume. God what a woman he thought. She had just a trace of accent which made her even more sensuous.

“Um, my name is Pete, Pete Bentley” and finally with a little more self-assuredness Pete said “How do you do Alex, is there something I can do for you?”

“As a matter of fact you can Pete, come and sit at the bar with me and we can talk about a little proposition you may find very interesting. You are very good at sailing, do you ever lose? Would you like a drink or are you old enough?”

“Of course I am old enough,” he said defensively. “I am twenty-two almost twenty-three.” Pete replied adding the last part to make himself seem older than he was. “To answer the last part of your question Alex, I haven’t lost a race since joining the sailing team my freshman year.”

“Well then Pete, order what you would like and I will have a tequila gold on the rocks with a twist of lime.”

As Pete turned to order their drinks, Cathy came up beside him and said “What’s going on Pete, who is the lady?” This was pronounced in such a way by Cathy to make the ‘lady’ sound like poison.

“This is Alex Menendez, Cathy; she is a new friend of mine. Alex, this is Cathy my teammate. She is quite a sailor in her own right.”

“Why, yes, of course it so nice to meet you Cathy, but if you don’t mind I need to discuss something with Pete and then you can have him back for the rest of the day. So be a sweetie and run along for now and I will send him to you shortly.”

Cathy turned a bright shade red, which was the first time Pete had ever witnessed that type of behavior in all the time he had known her, sputtering for a moment and finally she stalked off.

“I believe she likes you Pete, she is the jealous type, I do believe. You must be careful not to upset her if you want to keep her as your girl.”

Alex was enjoying taunting both of these young people so she could watch their reactions. Neither Pete nor Cathy understood the type of person Alex was.

“Alex, she’s not my girl, we are teammates and have been since the start of our first racing season together, and I don’t know why she acted that way.”

Pete didn’t know it but he gave Alex a useful bit of information about him. Pete was naive about females. He apparently had little experience with the opposite sex. What Pete didn’t realize was that Alex Menendez was a ‘man eater’ as the saying went. She went through a lot of young men like Pete.

“Well Pete, get our drinks so we can have our little chitchat. I have to leave soon for another appointment. So time is a wasting.”

Pete and Alex sat next to the water at a table away from prying ears and direct sunlight because the temp was already in the mid eighties. The breeze of the water helped some. Alex was dressed in a short dress that showed off her magnificent legs. Pete was having trouble focusing on what she was saying.

“Pete would you please pay attention to me and stop staring at my legs, this is important. I need the services of your talents dealing with sailing and will pay you handsomely for those talents. When there is more time you may look at my legs, but for now let’s get down to my proposition.”

Alex decided to give him a cheap thrill and get another reaction out of this young man, so she uncrossed her legs taking her time and giving Pete a very good view of her anatomy and then crossed her legs back the opposite way. Pete turned a bright shade of red.

“I’m sorry Alex,” he stammered. “You’re very beautiful and this is closest I have ever been to a woman like yourself. What kind of boat are you talking about me sailing for you? My experience range is nothing bigger than 40-foot Sloops, Ketch’s, and a couple of different types of Trimarans. I have hired out as Captain on all three types of sailboats in the last year. Also, I went to an accredited school for my Captain license which was nearly three years ago. I’ve sailed to the Bahamas several times and up and down the east coast ferrying sailboats for owners who were too lazy to do their own sailing.”

“I know that Pete, and a whole lot more about you. I know you have an excessive amount of school loans. You have a very high grade point average; but study very little. So that tells me you are very smart. You work at several different boat yards in the area, when you aren’t sailing with the collegiate team and that tells me you are hungry for money. I also know about your licenses. It’s why I am here talking with you at this very moment in time.”

“So, tell me Alex what’s the bottom line. You know who I am; apparently you have done your homework. So now it’s your turn, who are you Alex and what’s the job you want done that requires my expertise at sailing. Make it quick because my partner is signaling me, I need to go. I have another race coming up.”

Alex laid her hand on Pete’s right forearm saying, “This is important Pete just a few more minutes. Here’s the offer, I need you to sail from Miami to different islands in the Bahamas every other weekend, there will be times when you sail from here to the island and times when you will fly there, and sail back. Also there will be occasions when you will go both ways. You will be paid five hundred dollars per trip up front and company salary of five hundred dollars a week when you go to work full time. Half the weekly amount of money for part time work would come to two hundred and fifty dollars a week. Which you would be of course in the beginning, until you graduate college in a few months, at which time you have the option of going full time with my charter company. Half of your pay will be matched if you decide to put it in our company 401K retirement plan and we also pay medical expenses. You will have a single female mate on board to help sail and take care of things, all kinds of things.”

Alex smiled at him sweetly when she said the last sentence. She wondered if it would go over his head. The boy was so naïve.

Pete’s expression completely gave him away. “You’ve got to be kidding Alex, that’s a thousand dollars a week to start. Hey, you don’t expect me to run drugs do you? I can’t have any part in that kind of business.”

She reached out and touched Pete’s arm again sending a jolt through his body and spoke in almost a purr to him.

“Pete, my company is a sailboat charter service and I need someone like you to work for me. Our company hires a lot of college students with the knowledge of sailing. In fact my office is close to the yacht club. There is no drug running involved Pete,” touching his arm again, “It’s a legitimate charter boat company. Here’s my business card. The company is called Island Charter Service or ICS.”

Cathy came walking up to the table and spoke to Pete ignoring Alex, “The coach wants to see you right away Pete,” and turned around and walked off.

Alex stood up and said to Pete, “You have my card, think about it, and call me. I will be in my office late this afternoon if you want to call. Your lady friend could use some manners. I may speak to her father about that.”

Pete once again was startled by what Alex had said and showed it.

“You know Cathy’s father?”

“Yes Pete, he is a financial partner for my company.”

“Well, you may not want to hire me then because there is bad blood between us.”

“I know Pete, its how I learned about who you were. That was a very bold thing to do to him but also a dangerous thing to do. I must go Pete, please call me.”

Alex touch him again and then surprised him by leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek and with that turned around and walked off, with Pete watching her until she entered the main building and disappeared out of sight.

Cathy met Pete halfway back to where the rest of the team was congregating after each race. The first thing out of her mouth was, “Who is that woman Pete and what did she want?”

“Not that its any of your business Cathy, she happens to run a charter boat business and she wants me to work for her company sailing boats back and forth to the Bahamas.”

Pete thought it best not to mention the amount of money involved. He still had his doubts about the job and what it entailed. Alex was offering him a lot of money, more than was normal for boat captains.

“What about the racing team Pete, you won’t be quitting will you?” Cathy asked.

“No Cathy, I won’t be quitting, I’ll work around the racing season. Besides most of the races are on Saturdays or mid week.”

It dawned on Pete that he was talking as if he had made up his mind about the job, he guess he had. He needed the money to pay off his school loans. He had racked up a large debt for the last four years. Pete was looking at over thirty thousand dollars worth of debt.

“I don’t like the looks of that woman you were talking to Pete. She looks like trouble!”

Cathy’s hands were on her hips and the look she was giving Pete was one for husbands who stayed out too late with their drinking buddies.

“She’s ok; I can handle her and the job Cathy!”

That last statement would come back to haunt him. Pete didn’t have a clue as to what he was getting into with the very beautiful Alexandra Menendez.

 More than one set of eyes had watched the race today. Out in the bay floating with the tide was a very expensive and very fast custom made racing boat. The speedboat fit the man, powerful and sleek and very dangerous when not handled properly.

Onboard with the man was a beautiful woman in a very skimpy swimsuit standing beside him watching the races, but she was for looks and not part of his work, perhaps for amusement later. He had several other women he could pick from to perform the same function as this woman was doing today.

Ricardo Munoz was on a mission, sometimes from a distance he watched his sister, Alexandra. She was as beautiful as she was ruthless, but on certain occasions she would think with other parts of her body and would take chances with the family business.

Ricardo was a male version of his sister Alex. He was as handsome as she was beautiful. But Ricardo never let anything interfere with business. He was the oldest and next in line to take over running the family business. That is when his father either died or stepped down and Ricardo hoped it would be soon. He was ready to take over and run the multi-million dollar side of their illegal drug business better than his father could. The dream of taking over started as a young man in college and was so close to being a reality.

He had watched the meeting between his sister and the new recruit with a very powerful set of binoculars. Ricardo only bought the best of everything. The best boats, cars, clothes, and even his accessories like the binoculars, were the best money could buy and he had money to burn. He was forty-five years old and had a million dollars for every year of age. Ricardo kept it hid in a dozen different accounts around the world. That was one of his sister’s main jobs, when she wasn’t recruiting young men to sail the charter boats or seducing them.

Alex was a financial whiz when it came to money. It was also her job to set up legal businesses and banks to help launder the money that poured in from the drug business. It was easy to do when running a charter boat business. Their books showed three times the amount of business than they actually did.

Today he was bothered by the way his sister had acted with the new recruit. The boy would end up in her bed before it was over. He knew she used sex when needed to get a particular boy to hire on with the charter business when she felt he was worth having. If the boy was an exceptional sailor she would work extra hard to get him. Mostly she would use one of the more than two hundred girls she kept employed for helping convince them to work for her and they also helped out as crew when sailing. Most of the girls were as skilled when it came to sailing as the boys Alex hired.

Human smuggling helped fill that bill for having plenty of women for that task. They were paid as well as the boys and recently graduated college boys couldn’t resist a beautiful girl and the girls were told what would happen to them if they ever told the boys about themselves and what their true job was.

The young women were a good way to keep track of the boys and what they were thinking. Between the money and the girls the majority of the boys worked out fine. It was after the boats would be searched by U.S. Custom’s agents or the Coast Guard that some of them would get jumpy about the job. So far none of the boats searched had been found with drugs or money on them. There were to many boats sailing for the family business to get caught.

Alexandra, with the help of an outside financial partner, came up with the plan of using charter boats. Charter services would run the drugs, money and launder a large part of the money the family made off the illegal drugs.

The charter boat companies under Alex’s control for the cartel were at twenty-five strong. They were spread around the southern half of Florida reaching as far as the panhandle, including Mobile, Alabama. Things were in the works to add a charter service in the Jacksonville area and possibly as far north as Savannah. The charter businesses employed three hundred skippers and the same amount of female crew along with the office help came to nearly a thousand employees.

They had so many boats coming and going across the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic to and from the Bahamas that law enforcement couldn’t keep up. At any given time over one hundred sailing or fishing boats would be out on the water. About a third of the trips were completely legitimate, taking families and couples on charters. If it was a big load of drugs then it would take nearly the whole fleet of 300 hundred boats sailing. So far it had worked perfectly, many boats had been searched, but not one had ever been found to have drugs.

There were also several air charter services and a great deal of smuggling was accomplished with the aircraft, which brought in an equal sum of money for the cartel. Both legal and illegal money was made. Aircraft of various types would take off out of Florida and head for the Texas border every day to pickup money or drugs. On a few occasions people were smuggled into Florida.

As far as Ricardo was concerned their part of the cartel was completely anonymous to law enforcement. The whole family had never been before the IRS or any other agency of the government.

But, just because what you don’t or can’t see or hear doesn’t mean you are not noticed. Surveillance had many forms and sometimes agencies like the DEA were very patient and took their time before making a visit.

The last couple of sets of eyes watching the race and Alex and Pete’s meeting belong to Santiago and Dexter. They had been assigned the task of watching certain Munoz family members. Christian Bell wanted to turn up the heat on the Munoz family. It was time to take down the main illegal drug distribution network on the east coast.

Dexter was normally part of the task force along the Georgia Coast mainly dealing with the Savannah River area. Where there was a big shipping port, like Savannah, you could guarantee the illegal shipping of drugs, guns, and people. Dexter worked closely with the FBI and BATF and local agencies in the fight against crime in that area.

Dex, as he was known to the rest of Simon’s team in the past, was equal in his skill of firearms and martial arts. Dex was also the oldest of the group, being the ripe old age of forty-four. He preferred Georgia to Florida due to family reasons. Dex was married with two children and had been since his time in the Navy. He had grown up in the poorer section of town, closest to the Historic district of Savannah. His mother and five sisters all lived there now quite comfortably. With Dex’s help, he was able to get them educated and get his entire family out of the poorer section of town and into the suburbs of Savannah.

All his sisters were college educated with good jobs and families of their own. He was the older brother and respected and held in awe by the rest of the family. He had taken the responsibility of being the father figure of the family after their dad was killed on the docks by a crack head needing money for his habit. That was the main reason for his being in the DEA. He knew the bad side of drugs and the pain they caused to the victims’ families.

Both Dex and Santo dressed for the occasion at the yacht club. Each looked to be fashion statements for their age. Both gave the appearance of money and in the Bay Of Biscayne area that was a must. When they entered the bar area they had split up to two different sides and it was Dex who had witnessed up close the meeting between Alex and Pete. Santo had hung back to watch Dex’s back. The Munoz family was like of a bunch of vipers.

When Pete had gotten up and walked off after his meeting with Alex both Dex and Santo left a few minutes apart and went into the main dining area to eat and discuss what they had witnessed and possibly overhead.

“It looks like Alexandra has the hots for the new recruit. Every now and then she picks one out to use for a while,” Santo says to Dex shaking his head in distaste. “She is a man-eater when it comes to her business ventures. Those kids she goes after don’t have a clue as to what she is until it’s too late. Darius says she the coldest among the whole family and crossing her is extremely dangerous. In all the years of watching the Munoz family, I have never seen her with an actual date or steady type. Its always business with her.”

“When is the meeting with Christian and the rest of the team?” Dex asks his partner.

“Just as soon as we finish eating and can get back to Opa Locka airport. Christian has a plane waiting for us so we can fly to Simon’s place. Since Christian was already at Simon’s in Fort Walton for a meeting between Simon and Lori, he wants to meet there. Darius is coming and it will be the whole team.”

“What is he meeting with Simon and Lori about, Santo?”

“Don’t know for sure but my guess is asking Lori to join the team.”

“Really, what will the agency say about that! You know how they are about family working with family, it’s not allowed, but exceptions have been made over the years if there’s a need.”

“I don’t think Christian really cares what the agency thinks Dex; he is more interested in having the best team assembled in order to combat the drug problem in the country. The man thinks the ends justify the means. Lori is one smart lady when it comes to law and prosecuting the bad guys. Lori and your wife are a lot alike, lots of passion about putting the violent criminals away for good. If Chris thought you would move to Miami he would offer Cecelia a job.”

“I’m glad he doesn’t, she might take it. Living in Savannah with both our families can be troubling at times. I love them all dearly and think of them more as my kids than sisters.”

“It’s just me and my sister so I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a large family living close together.”

Santo sounded a little down when he talked of it being just him and his sister. He had relations from both of his parent’s families back in Cuba but going there to visit was out of the question, legally that is.

His sister Maria had tried several years ago to get their aunts and uncles to leave Cuba. Santo was willing to slip into Cuba and extract them. He had a friend who owned a charter boat that was willing to take the chance with him. The plan fell through because they were scared of being caught. You only left Cuba safely if Castro’s government said you could. Both he and his sister did send them money. Santo had a friend with the U.S Embassy in Havana and this friend would get the money to a brother of Santo’s father that lived in Havana. The uncle would then pass it around to all the other family members.

Dex knew the pain the big man felt about not having his family and thought of something to say to change the subject of family. It was hard for Dex not to be proud of his family. Hard work and determination had paid off for his family. At times when Dex felt reflective, he would wonder what his father would say about his family and their achievements.

“So why the urgency for me and you to fly to Simon’s today? Why not meet down here in sunny Miami?” Dex asks changing the subject.

Trouble or not he wanted to stay close to his mother and sisters. The good times out weighed the bad times and more importantly his mother was not getting any younger. She was getting close to seventy. Dex wanted to stay close by.

“Christian feels better about meeting in Fort Walton Beach, versus here in Miami. Too many eyes and ears for his liking, and it was one of the concessions to get Simon back on the team when they met in January and talked of his working for the DEA again. He stays out of Miami as much as possible.”

“Well then my friend let’s finish our lunch, and get to Fort Walton; I want to ask Christian about heading home for a couple of days. I have a granddaughter due; it’s the first from my youngest daughter.” Dex’s pride was showing again.

“I bet Simon will cook with the team flying in, now that I think about it. Let’s leave now, this fish taste like cardboard. I had rather wait until I get to Simon’s to eat. How about you, Dex, you want to go now?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, let’s go, eating Simon’s cooking is a much better idea. Think one of us should call and let him know we expect a meal.”

“Trust me Dex, there will be food waiting for us. I have gotten to know Simon real good over the last couple of months. He keeps his low boil pot cleaned and ready to use.”

High Tides

Chapter 2

Secret Rendezvous

Smells of unwashed bodies, urine and several other undesirable odors Alejandro Ortega Morales breathed in and couldn’t quite describe sickened him. The combination of odors permeated the entire prison, saturating his cell and his clothes. Perhaps it was fear most of all coming out of the individual cells. Each man knowing it was only a matter of time till he disappeared from his prison cell. If you were part of any guerilla organization in this country. It was almost guaranteed you would take a ride to the darkest part of the jungle in Colombia for a visit with a paramilitary unit. The rumors were rampant about the ride into the jungle and that fueled the fear of all who visited the prison in Bogotá.

A man escaped last year as he was dragged into the jungle by men dressed in black clothes and masks. The guerilla told of his torture and harrowing escape. It spread quickly among all the insurgent groups. If or when you went to the jungle with the black clad men then it was high probability that you would never come back from a ride like that. Everyone in this section of the prison was part of one of the many leftist groups that were rampant in Colombia. They all denied being guerillas, no matter how bad the beating they received.

It was better to die in a fight with the Colombian Army or paramilitary units than to be taken alive and brought to this place. Alejandro Morales would never let it be known but he was scared shitless. It was just plain bad luck to be caught and taken alive. Several known drug traffickers committed suicide rather than be taken alive. The words “a living hell” rang true of this prison. The guerrilla’s and drug cartels even went as far as enlisting several human rights groups. Their go between, a slick corporate lawyer, asked the human right groups to look into the disappearances and put a stop to the trips into the jungle. He promised untold millions for their causes.

Large quantity’s of money were in fact contributed to the human rights groups and so far nothing had come from there investigations. In fact several of the investigators had disappeared into the jungle. This caused several of their colleagues to complain loudly to the Colombian government for help. The government replied that it was probably one of the many leftist groups and could do nothing about it. They were basically told to stay out of the mountain and jungle areas, or do so at there own risk. The human rights groups couldn’t afford to say too much since having the world know that they were accepting millions of dollars from drug cartels. This would tarnish their organizations image and reputations.

Luckily the authorities didn’t know he was Alejandro Morales when the attack on the processing camp near the Cauca River started. Alejandro acted quickly and changed his clothes with that of a dead peasant. He did his best to blend in with the others. He went so far as to rub dirt own his hands and face. Acting afraid like the others and not fighting the authorities like the guerrillas had done. If it played it cool and blended in with the others. The prison officials would eventually let him go with the other peasants or so he hoped.

A soldier hit Alejandro with the butt of his rifle in his kidneys causing him to collapse in agony. It took all his control not to lash out at the man. It would have meant instant death for the soldier if Alejandro wasn’t surrounded by two dozen of his enlisted comrades. In the very near future after he got out of this mess. He would take care of that man and his family very soon. Alejandro would kill his entire family very slowly and let the puppet soldier watch. Alejandro would save the puppet soldiers own worthless soul for last. As of now they still didn’t know he was one half of the Morales brothers. Feared by all who knew of there name in the drug trafficking business. It would only be a matter of time until they found out. Fate was that way and finger prints didn’t help the situation.

Alejandro lay on the filthy bed in the cell pondering his precarious predicament. He thought of who would die for setting him up and it had to be a set up. Only a few people in his part of the day to day operations of the drug possessing business knew he was going to the new processing site. It was located twenty miles northwest of Mompos. The processing site wasn’t far from where the Cauca and Magdalena Rivers joined near the city Mompos. The Magdalena was the main river in Colombia. It stretched across Colombia for 950 miles from south to north. The Magdalena River eventually ended near Barranquilla some one hundred miles northwest of the Morales-Guzman drug processing site.

The processing site was to have been a super secret project. Apparently he and his brother Rubio were wrong. Someone close to the Morales cartel had sold out the younger brother. Alejandro Ortega Morales made a promise to find out who the guilty man was and punish him in the worst way. Death would be a blessing for the traitor. The younger Morales brother hadn’t lived in this kind of squalor since he was a child growing up outside the city of Bogota. He fumed to himself as he sat on his cot breathing in the stench of the prison. Alejandro kept thinking he would wake up from this nightmare. How could it have happen to him?

The Morales brothers had just finished moving the processing site to a new area when Alejandro decided to make a surprise visit. It was close to the Magdalena River and the Morales family had voted unanimously in favor of the move. The idea of using river pirates to transport the cocaine and heroin to ships waiting off the coast seemed like a good idea at the time. For weeks Alejandro and Rubio were brainstorming new ways to ship their products besides flying them out of Colombia. Drastic new transportation measures were need in the distribution of their illegal products. Alejandro had come up with the idea initially. After hours of standing in front a large map of Colombia Alejandro had personally flown along the Magdalena River from Mompos to Barranquilla by helicopter. Satisfied with his reconnaissance by air Alejandro then took a trip by boat up the river. Afterwards Alejandro was completely satisfied whit his findings.

Alejandro met with his brother the very next day after his boat trip up the Magdalena River. Jubilantly he told Rubio of his findings and how they would ship the drugs. The younger Morales suggested to his older brother Rubio that they a by a dozen boats that are seen on the river everyday. Boats like the peasants of Colombia used on the river everyday of their lives. It was the perfect way to conceal their drugs. They would the replace the engines with more powerful ones. That would help make the trips quicker to and from the coast.

All drug shipments would be shipped at night. It shouldn’t take more than six and half hours to make it off the coast of the Caribbean. If the boats left at dark then they should make the long journey to the Caribbean Sea way before daybreak. They would have time to offload the drugs and make it back to the river as the sun came up.

From the rendezvous point, small size cargo ships or go fast boats waiting could take the drugs to various islands within the Caribbean Sea or to Mexico if need be. Landing strips specifically built for low flying aircraft to infiltrate the coast of Florida without detection could be establish along the Caribbean Island chain. The Morales brother should be able to execute this plan for at least a year before changing tactics once again. A conservative estimate by Alejandro to his brother had been 300 tons of cocaine and heroin could be shipped from the new site before it was located by law enforcement personal.

Flying the cocaine and heroin out of Colombia was becoming harder due to the Americans watching from aircraft with powerful look down radars. The Customs agency in conjunction with the DEA had an entire fleet of such aircraft. The Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean had become a busy place for both sides. Many of the shipments being flown out of Colombia were intercepted the moment they left the country by the powerful radars. The smugglers would be followed by radar immediately after take off. The AWACS type aircraft would keep track of the smugglers until the planes touched down without the pilots ever knowing they were being tracked.

The DEA and local police would be waiting to arrest and confiscate the drugs. In the past year more than seventy tons had been seized. The Morales brothers were beside themselves over the amount confiscated. Changing the way they were transporting the product was a must to stay in business. The drug trafficking business was a fluid business, constantly changing. It had to be if you were going to make any money and stay out of prison.

To insure the new river processing site would be a success. The Morales brothers had bribed the government officials who patrolled the Magdalena River. Just to make sure everything ran smoothly and to supply protection as needed. What better way to protect their products than have the Colombian government do it for them. The brothers thought they had left no stone unturned. Bribes normally worked because it was better to take the money than lead from a bullet. The Morales brothers had rushed the project and that could have been a sign of a bad omen?

The decision to move the site quicker than the time frame he and his brother Rubio first came up with, also lead to Alejandro’s imminent capture. Rubio had ultimately made the decision and Alejandro had agreed with his older brother. With the last processing site coming under attack by the right wing group called CCP. This particular group was lead by Felix Sabina. Felix wasn’t on the payroll and becoming a real pain in the ass to all the guerrilla groups and drug cartels. The right wing commander hated the godless leftist and drug traffickers. Felix Sabina was for Colombia and its people. “Everyone else could go to hell,” the right wing leader had said on more than one occasion.

Rubio Morales mentions on more than one occasion that it was time to kill this so-called avenger of Colombia. Felix Sabina was becoming a royal pain in the ass and was affecting the cost of doing business. Neither Rubio are Alejandro cared who was in charge of the country as long as their drug business wasn’t bothered. They would pay whoever was in charge, political philosophy didn’t enter into the drug business as far as they were concerned, protection from the United States did. Extradition was the Morales brothers’ biggest fear.

The eldest Morales told his younger brother Alejandro of his plans to have the avenger of the Colombian people killed. Rubio had more important things to think about than some trouble making do-gooder. His dreams and desires were to take over Colombia once and for all. Felix Sabina was nothing but a cockroach that needed to be squashed. Their product would flow from Colombia like never before. The new processing site would help in those matters. Alejandro would take charge of the site and see to it personally. That’s what family was for in these matters. The two Morales brothers finished their monthly meeting by discussing the final steps in getting the processing site up and running as quick as possible regardless of the risk.

So the Morales-Guzman cartel with the help of the Munoz brothers would have more options available to them on getting the drug shipments into the United States. When the new site was running at full capacity they would ship thirty tons a month to the Untied States. With thousands of miles of unprotected border along the Mexican U.S. border and with just as much coast line open to the cartels. Most of the shipments should reach there destination safely and without detection. The cartel members did understand that a minimal loss was to be expected.. In the range of thirty to fifty tons was to be expected. Considering the amount that made it across America borders in a year’s time outweighed the loss by billions of dollars. It was a constant game of cat and mouse.

The oldest Morales brother made another risky last minute decision. Rubio wanted to wait on letting the main ELN brigade leaders know of moving the processing site right away. His decision was to just have the local guerrillas from the Bolivar area of operations handle protection. The number of men in that particular area only numbered one hundred at most. This small group would have to patrol the entire length of Magdalena River from Mompos to Barranquilla. Plus protect the drug processing site. It took two dozen men just to protect the processing site. Their commander was a very greedy man. With such a small group involved it would also insure closed mouths by the commander to the leaders of the larger groups. That’s what the Commander told Rubio Morales as he guaranteed the safety of the processing site. Greed was powerful tool.

It would also save the Morales brothers millions in bribe money which could intern be used for start up costs of the new facility. Alejandro would never admit to himself that his own greed added to his capture. What was a hundred million peso’s to either of the brothers. If it meant more men protecting the processing sight and stopping his personal capture. To of suggested something like that to him would of meant instant death. Alejandro considers himself to be smarter than any of his subordinates. He now saw the error of his ways. When he got out of this mess he would make sure that he always had the proper protection.

Brooding as he sat on the filthy cot. Alejandro began to ponder his unfortunate luck. Who was it in his family that informed on him? Only five people knew of his traveling to the new site today and two of those were his brother and wife. The other three were underlings. They were paid well for there services and loyalty. A terrible price would be paid for this situation he was being put through at this moment in time. Clenching his fist hard until a trickle of blood dripped from them as his finger nails dug into his own flesh. He didn’t belong here in this filthy prison. It was the ultimate insult to him and his family. Yes, people would die for this, both in his organization and these puppets who kept him locked up. All the way to the top, no one would be safe once he got out of this cell. He pounded the concrete wall in frustration at his predicament. Shaking his head he continued to run through all those who new he was going to the processing site with the Syrian.

The only other thing Alejandro could figure out as a reason for the raid was the Syrian. That damn Arab terrorist, as if the whole world didn’t know who the man was and spending hundreds of millions of dollars to try and capture him. The Syrian whose name was Muhammad Al Busaid was responsible for most of the bombings, and kidnappings in the Middle East. He had to be at least the third most powerful terrorist in the world, if not the second after Bin Laden.

Those close to the terrorist knew he wasn’t a terrorist for religious reasons. Al Busaid spoke the standard radical Muslim mantra about the godless infidels in the west when he was talking in front of followers. His passion for hate of the Untied States and its supporters were because of the man who was responsible for killing his older brother in the first gulf war. Al Busaid witnessed it first hand and wanted to kill all Americans from that day forward. His only hope was to meet the man who killed his brother with a knife. Only then would Allah allow him justice for the death of his older brother Hakim.

Alejandro had pleaded with his brother not to get involved with this man and his cause. But hell no he had to have the man come and visit and talk of how the Morales family could help Al Busaid finance his radical cause. The worst part was not only had Al Busaid been to Rubio’s house on more than one occasion in the past year. His older brother was even considering using his services for some of the problems he was having with politicians in and out of the Colombia. Sheer madness on Rubio’s part and now here he was behind bars in the foul smelling prison, with the clock ticking against him. Well, it was only a matter of time before his brother Rubio would get him out of this dank cell very soon he hoped. He would not be going to the jungle! Then he and his brother would have a nice chat about Busaid. Closing his eyes Alejandro dosed off.

Morales was abruptly shaken from his sleep hours later when the first of several explosions; it shook the walls like an earthquake. Then he could hear the sounds of automatic weapons after the explosions ceased, and several screams of anguish from what he hoped were prison guards, he had no window to look outside with and see what was happening. He hoped it was his brother, coming to rescue him from this shit hole.

Alejandro was correct in his thinking of Rubio trying to get him out prison. Rubio had moved quickly and promised the brigade commander of the Bogotá territory two million American dollars if he would get his brother Alejandro out of prison. The commander had leapt like a dog through a hoop at the chance to make that kind of money. Besides he would be within three city blocks of the attack on the prison. The commander was greedy but not stupid.

Rubio told the brigade commander that the attempt had to be done quickly. Before the government understood who it was they had captured. Things in the government had changed drastically in the last year with the new President no longer gave special treatment or safe haven to drug cartels any longer. The Americans had seen to that. If his brother Alejandro was identified, then he would be shipped to America. Both of them were on the top 10 most wanted list with the DEA and FBI.

The problem for Rubio and his brother along with the insurgents was that Colombian officials did know who they had sitting in the jail cell. The CIA confirmed it late yesterday evening by taking fingerprints from their prisoner food tray. A mole had been put in place weeks early to try and infiltrate some of the newest prisoners. It was an on going process that had been started to help identify potential brigade commanders and high-ranking officers in the guerilla groups. So far three very high-ranking officers had been identified in the past year. The mole had spotted Alejandro right away and told his handlers of there catch.

Heated talks were under way as to what should be done with Alejandro Morales by Colombian and American officials. The United States wanted to extradite him back to the U.S. for prosecution in the worst possible way. George Silva guaranteed Colombian officials that the U.S. would allocate extra aid including military weapons and training if Colombia cooperated. It was also an added bonus for Colombian official s not to have to worry about retaliation by family or cartel members if Alejandro Morales was taken out of the country.

So what was not known to either of the Morales brothers was that prison officials asked for and had been given help from the Colombian Army. While the prisoners slept like babies the night before. Fifty highly trained military personal arrived quietly and dispersed through out the prison. These men had been trained by Army Rangers as part of Plan Colombia. The Rangers were America’s best at performing such tasks.

These fifty men could now match up against any army in the world and the test had begun tonight. On this very night many men would be killed in the name of their cause and a drug trafficker would remain in jail. People lives in different parts of the world would now be set in motion by others and the affect would be one of death, misery, and pain. The hand had been dealt and now the game would begin for the players.

Once again Alejandro’s jail cell shook from an explosion close to his cell loosening dust from many years past and causing it to cascade down upon his bed and half-naked body, sticking to him like glue. The cell felt like an oven and how he desperately wanted a long hot bath and to slip between the cool silk sheets with a young lady or his wife. Tonight would be the night, he knew it had to be Rubio.

The rattle of automatic weapons could be heard, it was hard to tell from what direction. Alejandro knew they had to be from a local ELN or FRAC brigade. Both groups used AK-47’s and he knew the sound well. As the thoughts ran through his mind he now heard a different sound. He wasn’t sure what kind of weapon it was. As the sounds ended he could cry’s of pain from human beings. Someone just out side his window was screaming in agony.

More sounds came from the strange sounding weapons. Only these weapons used three round bursts instead the continuous rattle like the AK’s made. This couldn’t be a good sign for his rescuers. The guards had the same weapons as the guerillas. Sweet Jesus, it came to Alejandro. It had to be the Colombian Army. They used the American version of the M16. Yes, that had to be it, the Army was here. When did they arrive, this was not good. Alejandro had a sinking feeling in his stomach; tonight he would be going nowhere. As quickly as the attack started it was finished. The sounds of gunfire ended as quickly as it began.

As his thoughts were finished, he heard noise from the door at the end of the hall. Alejandro Morales came to the stark reality standing beside his cot that he wouldn’t be freed from his cell. He would be staying in this rotten filthy cell for a very long time. A deep depression came over the drug trafficker as he stood looking out the small window with bars. What Alejandro didn’t know was that his assumption was wrong. A half a dozen men with weapons walked towards him. One man was different from the rest. He was dressed differently. The man was an American, no doubt about it.

The American glanced down at his right hand. In his hand he held a photo. He stood within arms reach of the bars of the cell. He looked at the picture and then at Alejandro. He turned and spoke very good Spanish to the leader of the camouflaged men. He said this was the man and his name is Alejandro Morales and there was no doubt about it.

The man spoke to him in Spanish. “You won’t be going anywhere except with me Senor Morales. It was your brother Rubio who was responsible for tonight’s attack on the prison. It failed miserably I might add.”

“Go to hell American.” Alejandro said. He then hocked a wad of mucous from deep in his throat and spit it at the DEA agent.

George Silva then said. “My country will be sending someone soon to take you back for indictment for your crimes of drug smuggling.” George Silva then took a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the mucous off his shirt. He tossed the handkerchief through the prison bars onto the floor. It landed at Alejandro Morales feet. “I believe that belongs to you Senor Morales.”

Alejandro swore under his breath, the man had to be American for sure. That damn extradition treaty Colombia signed with the Americans. He would be going to America to stand trail. His brother plan was coming to fruition and Alejandro wasn’t very happy about it.

“No senor, consider it at present from me.” Alejandro replied and picked the handkerchief up throwing it back at Agent Silva.

“No doubt about it Senor Morales, you will be going on a one way trip to America courtesy of Uncle Sam. You should have stuck to the drug trade and left the terrorist Busaid alone, asshole!” The American spoke in English and then turned and left.

“We shall see American. I haven’t left Colombia yet. You will have to get me to the airport. So good luck asshole.” Alejandro replied to George Silva in heavily accented English. He turned his back and went and stood by the window.

DEA agent George Silva enjoyed the short conversation with Morales. The fear in his eyes really showed when George spoke of his being taken to America for prosecution as a drug trafficker. There would be no pay offs or threats to get him out of prison in America. George Silva did understand the reality of what Alejandro said though. It would be very hard and dangerous for all involved trying to get Alejandro on a plane to the U.S.

Agent Silva looked at his watched as he walked out of the prison entrance. In a few hours he would board a charted private jet and fly to Miami. It had been many years since he was in Miami. His boss was sending him on a task he was not happy about. George should be the one to bring Morales back to the states! It just didn’t make since to a man who had spent so many years with the agency and the last eight in Colombia. The two men his boss Daniel Steel recommended sending to Colombia to pick up Morales and escort back to the States were complete unknowns to Agent Silva. God, how he hoped they weren’t rookies. It wouldn’t be easy getting Morales out of Bogota, Colombia. The longer the agency waited the more difficult it would be. Tonight proved that without a doubt.

Located 12 degrees north of the equator, 18 miles of the coast of the Paraguana Peninsula of Venezuela is an island 19 miles in length and 5 miles wide at its furthermost point called Aruba. It’s an island in the Southwestern Caribbean known for its sandy white beaches and crystal clear water. The weather changes very little and it’s a tropical paradise for the worlds tourist to come and vacation on.

Today the island would have a different set of visitors, not the normal tourist type who came to the island each year to enjoy the tropical paradise and majestic beauty of the island. This would be a meeting to discuss the assassinations and murder of good, decent men and women, by people who lived