Deadly Journey (16 page)

Chapter 27

Boat Boy

We sat in the
cabin with the door closed. The stench of the fish in the hold somehow managed
to pervade every nook and cranny.

Clever of the traffickers, really, I
thought: set off from port with an empty hold, pick up a consignment of drugs
on the way, then ship it to wherever for collection at sea. All they had to do
was to set out their nets, bring in a haul, and set it down back home, with
Customs none the wiser. Just how they’d explain their human cargo, shackled and
singing like canaries if the authorities did board the trawler, gave me the
idea we’d be sinking twenty fathoms down with the plankton long before then.

I couldn’t say how long we had been
sailing, but it must have been for over twenty-four hours. The trawler headed
for a cove and we transferred to a biplane. I slept for most of the flight.
When we landed close to the shore, we were transferred to another trawler.

After a hearty breakfast, Leandra dozed off
to sleep, resting her head on my shoulder. Carlos had not been with us the
whole time, but then he was secure in the knowledge that there wasn’t much room
to escape. The extra set of cuffs connecting my leg shackles to Leandra’s chain
made sure of that. Even if I could unfasten our chains, I knew that I couldn’t
swim well enough to get to shore.

The cabin door swung inwards, with Carlos
teetering and holding onto whatever he could grasp as he made his way to our table.
Leandra didn’t stir, still with her head on my shoulder.

‘Nearly there,’ he said and sat down. ‘Sandwiches
packed?’

‘Yeah, all stowed away, with a bottle of
water like you ordered.’

A man of few words, other than for giving
orders, he acted to type as we stared into each other’s eyes, each trying to
get the measure of what the other was thinking, until he broke the silence.

‘No hard feelings,’ he said, and offered
his hand.

I hesitated and pushed back into my seat. ‘For
what?’ I asked.

‘Everything. Especially that black eye of
yours.’

‘That was your buddy.’

‘Still, the admiration is there for you
trying to take the three of us on in your bedroom. That
–
and how long you held out back at the barracks. Well
–
are you going to take it?’ I reached out, took his hand, and shook
it, using a firm grip. ‘I didn’t last that long in training and that wasn’t for
real. So you have balls. I’ll give you that.’

Our grasp untwined, with Carlos displaying
an awkward disposition as if we had shared an overly long, manly hug. The
revelation of mutual respect was unexpected, but I thought it a good
opportunity to get him to open up about his background.

‘You said training?’

‘Yeah, Special Forces.’

‘So that’s where you got that choke-hold
from?’

He laughed. ‘Yes, that and a few others, if
you ever want to try me out.’

‘No, thanks. Why join up with Perez?’

‘Money. He pays ten times what we were paid
in the army. I came out with nothing, unlike your CIA guys who accompanied us
on some missions. Another twelve months and I’ll be out of it, I hope. Pity
about the other troops.’

‘How come?’

‘I don’t have family like the rest, only a
girlfriend. They keep a record of everyone’s family. If you try to leave, they
know where your family lives. If you cross them, they make your family pay.’

It was clear when he said “pay” that he
wasn’t talking about money.

‘So what do you want to do if you manage to
leave?’

‘Get married, buy a small farm, anything to
have a normal life, but it will have to be outside Mexico. Maybe Brazil.’

His eyes rolled as he placed both hands on
the table and drummed his fingers. I think he’d realized he was giving too much
of himself away.

‘So really, you guys are prisoners like me.’

‘If you put it like that, I guess so. But
don’t think I won’t do my job. He who pays the soldier, controls the trigger.’

I didn’t doubt him for one minute, but his
describing them as prisoners gave me an idea as to the weakness in their
psyche. How I wished it were in my ability to offer him and his girlfriend
American citizenship, if only to help me get out of this quagmire. But then I
thought that he wouldn’t know it wasn’t within my power, and stored the notion
to long-term memory.

‘Understood,’ I affirmed.

‘Good, then listen to what I say. I’m going
to remove yours and Leandra’s shackles. Five minutes and we’ll be heading to
our destination in the dinghy.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Don’t interrupt. All you need to know is
that where we are going, we’re going to have to rely on each other for our own
survival. Even if you were armed to the teeth, your chances of surviving alone
would be next to zero. I need your word, one man to another that you won’t
attempt to escape.’

I recalled Stony’s words about jungle
training. ‘So I guess you’re talking about the jungle?’

‘The rainforest, to be precise.’

Crossing my fingers under the table, I
responded. ‘It’s a promise.’

Carlos leaned across the table until our
noses were almost touching. ‘It better
had be a promise. If I lose you,
I’m responsible and they’ll get to my girlfriend before I have the chance to
get to her first. If anything were to happen to her, wherever you go, you won’t
find a hole big enough to hide in.’

Leandra yawned, lifted her head, and then
groaned. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We’ve arrived. Time for another dinghy
trip,’ I said.

Carlos said, ‘Put your hands on the table
and I’ll remove the cuffs.’

The cuffs were the easy part, the leg irons
more problematic, with Carlos bending under the table to remove them. When we
made our way outside the cabin, the skipper was standing on the deck, scanning
the shoreline through binoculars. We were hustled into the dinghy, Carlos and
two of the crew joining us. At a signal from the skipper, we were winched into
the air, swung over the side, and lowered to the ocean.

The outboard spluttered to life and we were
off.

I found my sea legs this time around, much
to my relief. The tide was in when we hit the shore, and the dinghy followed an
inlet. The river narrowed. The rainforest became more dense and intimidating.

‘Why bring us all the way out here? Wouldn’t
it have been easier to hide us locally?’ I asked Carlos.

‘I’m here to make payments. Maybe they
thought the Cobras would already have ambush points set up and so they sent you
with me. Can’t say I’m happy about it, but orders are orders.’

When we rounded a corner, the river
widened. Over on the left, I could see a long, narrow boat moored by a rope to
a tree. The propeller was tilted out of the water, fastened to the end of a
long shaft and attached to a small outboard engine. The dinghy slowed and
pulled up alongside. A young boy in his early teens, with the look of an
indigenous Indian, greeted us with a toothy grin. Dressed in nothing but twine
and a leather pouch covering his dignity, in pretty much the same design as a
woman’s thong, he looked the part with the jungle backdrop. His jet-black hair
was cut as if someone had placed a bowl over his head as a template. Running
from ear-to-ear, his face was daubed with a wide band of red dye. He stood with
his feet apart for balance as the crew held our craft to his boat.

‘Get in,’ said Carlos. ‘One at a time,
Leandra first. As soon as you’re on the boat, sit down.’

Leandra glanced at me with a horrified
expression. She must have been thinking the same as me. The longboat looked
unstable and barely wide enough for a backside. Carlos passed over our
backpacks and then he helped her to her feet. The young boy held onto Leandra
as she stepped over to the longboat, which started rocking. The teenager
grinned and his legs danced. I couldn’t be sure if he was trying to create
equilibrium, or having some fun with her. Leandra yelped as she lost her
balance, but she managed to sit before the boat rolled over. I didn’t fare much
better, but sat with my back to Leandra. After Carlos had joined us onboard,
the dinghy turned and set off back to the trawler. The young man fired up the
engine and dipped the prop in the water, and we started to glide down the
river.

Debris from fallen trees and branches
floated past and littered the river, sometimes only inches away. The young man
didn’t slacken his speed for one second as he skilfully navigated the
obstacles. The wave from our boat plumed to the banks, either side, rinsing the
roots of trees in its wake. I was pleased that Leandra was facing in the
opposite direction when I saw a caiman slither into the water from the bank to
my left.

‘Carlos, are there piranha in this river?’
I asked

‘It’s not them you need to worry about.
I’ll tell you more when we get to camp. Ladies present.’

‘Sorry, Leandra.’

‘No worries.’

We rounded a bend and a clearing over on
the left came into view. A ramshackle wooden jetty, jutted out into the river.
Four narrow long boats were moored alongside. Bare-breasted women unloaded
bales from one of the boats and carried them on their heads, scrambling up a
slope that defied gravity, yet they carried their loads deftly. To one side,
wooden spikes rose from the river, with some kind of rushes woven into a net
and attached to the poles. Naked children, within the safety of its boundary,
splashed and screamed with delight in the water, with an old woman sitting in a
haunch watching their every move.

‘Is this where we’re staying?’ I asked
Carlos.

‘No, we’ve got a little stroll before we
get to the camp. The native village is five-star. Where we’re going is
one-star.’

‘Oh, great,’ I said as our navigator ran
the boat onto the bank.

I stepped out of the boat, then helped
Leandra out and we headed toward the village. There weren’t many structures.
All were built with logs, using tree-trunk stilts to raise them off the ground.
The leaves of palm trees formed the roofs. One large structure stood out and I
guessed it was some kind of communal hall.

‘Stay here,’ said Carlos.

I watched as he walked toward the community
hall. A portly Indian appeared in the open doorway to the hall. I imagined he
was the chief of the tribe. On his head, he wore a headdress of feathers and a
regalia of necklaces fashioned with animal teeth around his neck. To either
side of him were two bodyguards, each carrying a bow and a short bamboo stick.
They had the same hairstyle and face paint as the teenager. The chief stood
out, with a white band across his face framed by red stripes, top and bottom,
and wearing the most hideous looking floral Bermuda shorts.

Carlos exchanged words with him, dipped
into his pocket, pulled out a wallet and handed the chief what looked like a
few bills. Whatever he had given the chief couldn’t have amounted to much, but
it wasn’t as if there was anywhere to spend the money.

A group of women sat huddled together next
to a pile of bales they’d removed from the boats, together with other supplies
they must have unloaded before we arrived. Away from them, the men sat
together, laughing and joking, rolling stones toward a pebble in the centre of
the circle in some sort of game. The chief shouted across at the group and
everyone rose from the ground. The women lifted the provisions to carry them on
their heads and the men formed a group around them. Carlos joined us.

‘Let them go first and we’ll follow. You
two, stay in front of me.’

‘Is it far?’ Leandra asked.

‘No, but if you’re wearing socks, take them
off, or you’ll get jungle rot. It’s not far, but it’s slow going, so it’ll take
some time. You also need to take off your jackets. It’s going to get hot and
humid in there.’

Leandra asked, ‘What’s jungle rot?’

‘When you sweat, the skin on your feet will
shrivel and end up looking like a walnut, only soft and chewy. Last thing we
want is to have to carry anyone on a pole.’

I glanced at Leandra, then we both shrugged
in a shiver and quickly removed our boots and socks.

With our shoelaces tied, we rose and set
off in convoy. Two of the males dropped behind us, with some of the others
forming an escort on our flanks.

‘Those short spears without tips they’re
carrying don’t like they could do much damage.’ I said, glancing back at
Carlos.

‘That’s because they’re blow-pipes. See
what looks like overgrown cotton buds they’re carrying in those pouches next to
their arrows?’

‘Yeah, I see them.’

‘Poison darts.’

‘So I guess we don’t want to be messing
with them?’

‘It’s not them you have to worry about. If
you see one come out of the forest daubed with black and white face paint, drop
to the ground to give me a clear line of fire.’

Chapter 28

Monkey Business

The trek through
the dense rainforest proved to be hard going. The sound of machetes upfront
swathing a route made things easier; that, and the natives treading a path.
However, what the tribe couldn’t help with was the sticky heat. The shade from
the canopy of trees did little to provide respite. There was no breeze to be
had and the foliage overhead locked in the moisture. Perspiring profusely, my
clothing was soaked as if someone had hosed me down. Wiping the sweat from my
eyes was a waste of energy. Only tilting my head slightly forward and following
Leandra’s boots allowed the constant steam from my brow to divert and stop my
eyes from stinging.

How the natives managed without footwear,
only God knew. But then, they were at one with nature the way it was intended.
Boots offered little advantage over the uneven undergrowth and despite
following a trodden path, it was difficult to stay upright, especially carrying
the weight of the backpack.

Taking the water bottle from a pocket in my
fatigues, I took a slug of warm water. Inwardly, I cursed at the thought that
but for delaying our trip by two and a half hours, I could have escaped and would
probably have reached the American border.

‘Steady with that, you need to ration the
water,’ said Carlos. ‘If we don’t make it to camp, you’ll regret it if you
drink it all.’

‘How long to the camp?’

‘According to what the chief told me, maybe
another four hours if it doesn’t rain. We’re probably halfway there.’

Judging by the distance we were covering, I
reckoned we could have made it to where we were at in less than half an hour in
a car, as the crow flies.

My hearing had become accustomed to the sound
of the creatures in the forest. The contrast between the relative quietness in
the clearing of the village and the noise when we first entered the forest had
brought on a bout of nerves. The sheer scale of the sounds had banged away at
my eardrums with the constant drone and trill of the sounds of the creatures as
if they were alarmed at our intrusion.

There was a sudden intensity of critter and
birdcalls. I stumbled as Leandra stopped and she turned to me, gripping my arm.

‘Kurt, can you hear that? Do you think
they’re wild animals?’

‘Keep moving,’ said Carlos. ‘It’s only the
menfolk communicating and hunting for lunch.’

‘Lunch?’ Leandra asked.

‘You’ll see. That’s what they use the
poison darts for, hunting. Now move on.’

Another fifteen minutes and our convoy
stopped in a clearing to a crescendo of birdcalls. The natives escorting us
cupped their hands and returned their calls. Women dropped their loads and sat
on their haunches, forming a circle. The hunters appeared from the forest and
like the changing of the guard, the menfolk who had been escorting us moved out
into the dense undergrowth.

The hunters walked over to the women. Four
of them unloaded furry critters from their shoulders and launched them into the
circle.

‘What are those?’ Leandra asked.

‘Monkeys.’ Carlos said and grinned.

‘No way,’ she said. ‘I’m not eating monkey.’

‘Why do you think I had you pack
sandwiches?’

My backpack, which had started out as a
minor inconvenience, felt like I was carrying a mountain on my back. Slipping
the straps from my shoulders, I dropped it on the ground and helped Leandra to
remove hers and we both sat.

‘Don’t get comfortable just yet, you two.
Take your jackets from the pack and sit on them, or something may just bite
your backsides. Then remove your boots to give your feet some air.’

‘How come we’re not plagued with
mosquitoes’?’ I asked.

‘Give it time. They usually get active
around dusk. There’s a net for your head in that pocket of the pack.’ He
pointed. ‘You’ll find repellent in there too, but if I were you, however hot it
gets, I’d put on your jacket when the time comes.’

‘How come the natives don’t bother?’

‘Guess the mosquitoes just like fresh
blood.’ He laughed, took his knife from its sheath, and stabbed it in a log at
his feet.

Smoke drifted over from where the women
were still huddled in a circle. The smell of burning monkey flesh soon followed
and cooking got underway. With swollen feet, my boots, which had started out a
size too big, now wouldn’t budge.

‘Here, let me help,’ said Carlos, and he pulled
off each of my boots.

‘Were you serious about the Indians with
the black and white faces, or was that to stop us from running off?’ I asked.

‘Deadly serious.’

‘Shouldn’t I be armed?’

‘Don’t worry
–
I
have enough fire power for the three of us. Nice try, though.’

‘What Indians are these you’re talking
about?’ Leandra asked.

Carlos placed his feet on the log in front
of him and retrieved the knife. I flinched as he launched the knife in my
direction, in unison with Leandra’s scream. I turned at the thud, as the knife
struck the trunk of a tree behind my head. Scrambling away, I grabbed Leandra’s
arm and pulled her with me.

‘Best not to lean against trees,’ he said
and jumped up, strolling over to the tree trunk.

The snake was still wriggling when he clasped
it behind its head, removed the knife, and chopped off its head. One of the
women rushed over, bowed, held out her hands and he handed her the snake. More
food for the pot, I guessed, which churned my stomach.

‘Leandra asked you about the other Indians.’

‘The Indians? Oh yeah. There are only two
tribes in the area, each with their own territories. The tradition used to be
that if there were disputes, the offending tribe would hand over one of their
women to settle the matter. Clever, really, as it extended the gene pool and
cut down on inbreeding.’

‘Used to be?’

‘Yeah, it all went wrong when the coca
farmers arrived to set up a cocaine production facility. They paid our friends
here with outboard engines for their boats and for them to set up a supply route
for the coca leaves to get to the processing unit.’

‘What happened?’

‘Well, the tribe here was sustained mainly
by fishing and a little hunting, but the
cocaleros
wanted the cocaine
plant further out into the forest, at the edge of their territory. One of the
farmers killed one of the other tribe and they wanted the chief’s daughter as
payment. The chief refused and it sort of escalated. By the time we got here to
try to mediate, the farmers had massacred most of the other tribe. Now they
want half the women of this tribe to try and rebuild.’

‘And Perez sent us into the middle of this?’

‘Afraid so. Pedro tried to talk him out of
it, but he said he’d rather you two die here than have the Cobras managing to
release Leandra and kill you.’

Leandra and I exchanged glances. The horror
of the revelation was evident by her open mouth.

‘Kill me?’ I said.

Carlos ignored my question. Leandra threw
her eyes upward. ‘The bastard, I should spit in his food the next time I
prepare something for him.’

‘You mean you haven’t already?’ Carlos
said. He winked and then grinned.

Leandra answered with reddened cheeks.

I was beginning to like Carlos’s new
openness. It sort of put a human face on him, but he hadn’t answered my
question.

Rummaging in my backpack, I took out a sandwich
and started to eat. One of the women approached, holding out a large, broad
leaf and offered it to Carlos. He picked up something with the appearance of a
barbecued chicken leg and chewed on it. Looking more closely at what he was
eating, I spat out what I was about to swallow.

‘How in the hell can you eat that? They
haven’t even cut off its hand.’

Leandra threw up and I stuffed the
remainder of the sandwich into my backpack. Carlos shrugged.

‘What’s up with you both? Protein, it
tastes good. Wait until we run out of provisions and we have to eat grubs.’ He
laughed loud enough to set off a flock of birds in flight from the branches
above.

Carlos tossed the bone to one side and
opened his backpack. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Take one each with a drink of water.’

‘What are they?’ I asked

‘Quinine tablets. They’re for malaria, but
they also relieve cramps.’

‘Wait
–
I read
somewhere that they’re banned in the United States by the FDA as a cure for
cramps.’

‘Isn’t everything banned up there? This
isn’t the United States,’ Carlos said and raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like I’m
asking you to smoke a joint for chronic back pain. Take it. I’m not carrying
either of you. Just pretend you have malaria.’

Thinking back to the cramps I had
experienced in the trunk of the car and at the barracks, I popped the tablet in
my mouth and swilled it down my throat.

‘I hear they’ve legalized cannabis for
medicinal purposes in some states. How do you feel about that?’ Carlos asked.

‘I don’t feel anything, but it seems to be
counter-productive. I just do my job.’

Carlos glanced over my shoulder and said, ‘It
looks like they’re getting ready to move on. Grab your packs and let’s go.’

My stamina waned, despite the rest. Leandra
surprised me by trudging along without complaint, considering I had to grit my
teeth at times to keep going.

The smell of the
cocaleros’
camp hit
my senses before I saw it. A foul odour of chemicals hung in the air. Discarded
rusting cans, some marked Hydrochloric Acid, littered the side of the trail.
The convoy ahead stopped.

‘Follow me, you two,’ Carlos said.

He brushed past us, and we followed him up
to the head of the convoy.

‘Welcome,’ said a young man in Spanish,
wearing only grubby blue Bermudas and carrying an AK-47 cradled in his arms.
Leandra stepped forward, ahead of Carlos, as if she intended to sit on a
boulder. Carlos grabbed her arm.

‘Don’t move,’ he said. ‘Stay absolutely
still.’

She froze. Looking down at her feet, I
could see wire resting on her boot. Carlos sidestepped to an exposed root of a
tree and brushed away some of the dead foliage to reveal a hand grenade. He
knelt and fiddled with the wire attached to the pin and turned, giving the
thumbs-up sign. Leandra extracted her foot and moved behind me. The convoy
passed on by.

Carlos shook hands with the young man,
reached into a pocket on his fatigues and pulled out an envelope. The young man
opened it and flicked through a thick wad of bills. A huge grin developed
across his face and he waved us on. Carlos turned and reset the wire to the
grenade.

‘Let that be a lesson not to stray from the
camp,’ said Carlos.

‘Who are they expecting?’ I asked.

‘Anyone with no business here, from
soldiers to those Indians I told you about.’

‘I can understand the natives knowing, but
how did you know about the booby trap?’

‘I visit twice a year during the harvest
seasons to pay them for the product. I was scheduled for a visit. Maybe that’s
why Perez decided to send you along, like I said.’

Carlos was right. Our survival depended on
each other, although for now, we were more reliant on his skills. Glancing
around the dense rainforest, I decided that escaping to civilization seemed
akin to a suicide mission. I turned to Carlos.

‘Why do you think the Cobra cartel would
have wanted to kill me?’

He hesitated. ‘Just an assumption.’

His demeanour told me he was hiding
something. I changed the subject, deciding to press him later. ‘Wouldn’t it have
been a good opportunity for you to leave the cartel back at the river and for
us all to have kept on going while you had the money in your pocket?’

‘Not for the pittance I’ve just handed
over.’

That he hadn’t said a definitive “no” gave
me the idea that he would get out if the price were right.