There Must Be A Mistake Ch. 24

Note: All persons in this novel are fictitious. If you are looking for a great deal of explicit sexual activity, this story is not for you. Those scenes that are included will be evocative rather than just for the sake of sex itself. This story is for your reading pleasure. Its length is undetermined at this time, because I do not know where my mind will take me along the way. I hope you will stay with me during this journey until it reaches its inevitable conclusion.

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116. Tying Up Some Loose Ends

The driver of the truck was let out of jail, miraculously, even though it was his third offense. It was due to a good attorney, and $30,000 in bail put up by a 'Former Rodeo Champion.' Lucius had his men in place to follow the perpetrator, whether he walked home, or took a taxi. He wasn't 30 feet from the courthouse steps, when a shot rang out hitting him in the head, and splashing his brains all over the pavement.

Lucius yelled over the radio, "Who did that?"

All the answers came back in the negative.

The police were everywhere within a matter of seconds. They questioned everyone on the street to see if they saw the person who did it, or anyone suspicious. No one did. No cars moved away from the scene quickly. No one was seen running away from the scene of the crime. Everything looked, and seemed normal.

What no one saw was Liz closing the small opening to the rear door of her rented van. While everyone looked around, she broke down her rifle, put it back in its case, returned to the driver's seat, and waited for traffic to start moving past the scene of the crime. When it did, she moved into the flow of traffic, rubbernecked as every other driver did, when she past the crime scene, and moved on. The bastard that killed Tonya and Margaret had paid for his crimes.

She returned to work, for the first time since the accident, the next day.

****************

There wasn't a hair's breath in the qualifications, between Lucille Ball, and Rory Calhoun. They both spoke Spanish fluently, they were great shots, and could run long distances well. More importantly, they were great spotters. They used the new scopes, with the barometric and temperature readings on them perfectly, and helped the shooters with corrections on their aiming points, if they were asked.

In the jungles of South America, the humidity alone could make a bullet fall nearly 3 inches per mile. The temperature made that number rise or fall.

They could not simulate that anywhere in the United States, not even in Louisiana, during the heat of the summer.

Paul would have to use his brain, and a little calculus to figure that out on the fly. These new scopes would help, but they were not always perfect. They could always try to get closer to the subject, and make the shot from there. However, that meant they would have to move undetected, that much further to get away.

It was decided that they would become a threesome. Rory and Lucille would act as a married couple from Guadalajara. Paul was a widow from Mexico City.

They arrived in Lima Peru with all the appropriate tourist information about the indigenous tribes. They were going on guided tours to Machu Picchu, and to the Headwater of the Amazon River, high in the Andes Mountains.

The trek to the Headwater of the Amazon just happened to pass within 50 km of the presidential retreat, where William Silver was staying.

It was also in the heart of cocaine country, which the bus they would be traveling on passed through. It was often detained, and searched by guards of the cartel, but the passengers were never robbed, or killed. The cartel was appropriately paid for each trip through its heartland by the bus company.

In a country, where money can buy you anything, William Zabo bought the Commanding General of the Peruvian Army. He promised General Antonio de la Fernando Rios one of two things. He would be dead within 48 hours, or he would be $20 million richer if he followed instructions. General Rios chose door number two.

William gave the general the coordinates he wanted his army units to attack, on what days and at what times to start, and stop. General Rios was told American satellites would be watching every moment of this operation, and if he did not comply completely, he would collect every penny of his money back by removing the general's skin, inch by inch, while he was begging for mercy.

During these attacks, the cartels would be obliged to split their forces to protect its territories, laboratories, warehouses, and most important, their coca plants. These attacks would leave a narrow passageway for Paul, Rita, and Rory to get through, hopefully unseen. If it worked, the three of them would have no trouble infiltrating the area, and get to the presidential retreat.

Exfiltration was a problem all its own.

As the three of them waited in line to board the bus, Paul attached an explosive charge between the right rear tires. He would set off this explosive, when they reached the appropriate coordinates.

They were lucky that the conductor of the bus forced the people, who got on first, to move to the rear of the bus, instead of allowing them to take up the front seats, blocking everyone else's entrance. Most of the passengers were either Americans, or British, and it was hard for them to maintain their Latin cover, with everyone else speaking English.

As they drove along the route, the driver commented that there were no guards on the road today, and it was highly unusual.

Lucille asked him why it was so unusual."

The conductor replied, "The cartels own this area. They grow the coca plants here, and they don't want anyone looking around."

"Does the government know about this?"

"Yes, everyone knows about this, especially the government. However, the cartels are so strong; the government is powerless to do anything about it."

She said, "It is the same thing in Mexico."

Paul checked the GPS coordinates continuously, and when they were at the correct coordinates, he signaled his two comrades, and pushed the button.

The explosion lifted the bus a few feet in the air, while throwing the right two tires and rims off the axle. The bus skidded 30 feet, before it came to a halt.

Everyone on the bus was screaming, as the conductor was begging everyone to remain calm. He was going outside to see what had happened.

When the conductor started yelling, the three of them got out to see what had happened.

Rory said to him, "It looks like you hit a landmine."

Lucille agreed. "Maybe that's why there are no guards on the roads today."

The conductor said, "I can't fix this. I only have one tire. However, the wheels and bolts are gone also. This is a disaster."

"How far is the closest town?"

"We past it nearly 1 ½ hours ago; it's nearly 51 km from here."

"If you will give us something to identify ourselves, and explain what happened here, we will walk to the town, and do our best to get help. You can't leave these people alone, the gringos will panic."

"I will give you the pass that allows us to go through this area. If anyone stops you, show it to them, and they will let you pass."

"We will probably not get there until nightfall. Do you think they will chance coming back here at night?"

"No, they will come here in the morning. No one travels this road at night if they want to live. We will see you in the morning. Have a safe journey my friends."

*************

As soon as it was safe, they slid into the jungle, and began running southeast towards the presidential retreat. Within 10 minutes, they were in the coca fields, where billions, and billions of dollars worth of young coca plants were growing. In a few months, they would be harvested, processed, and made into cocaine, before making their way north to Mexico and the United States. It would feed the habits of millions of addicted Americans, and making millionaires out of criminals.

Paul said, "Oh what I wouldn't give for a plane loaded with 'Agent Orange' right now."

They found a trail, large enough for a truck to carry a load of coca plants to a processing center. They were sure they were running towards it, so they each had their pistols at the ready.

Breathlessly, Lucille asked, "Where the hell is everyone today?"

"Hopefully, they bought into William's diversion."

"What diversion?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Would I be asking you, if he did?"

"William bought a General. He had him start an attack to draw off all the guards from this area to give us a fighting chance to get in without getting killed. I thought it was very nice of him."

"How much did that cost him?"

"How old are you Lucille?"

"You never ask a lady her age."

"I never look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Did he pay enough for us to get out?"

"I didn't ask."

"Don't you think you should have?"

"Possibly."

He looked at his GPS, and they were moving too far south, and not enough East for his liking. However, the road they were running on was making their trek much faster than hacking through the jungle. They were still out in the open after running 20 km through fields of coca. He shook his head thinking that US spy satellites probably had this place fixed down to the centimeter, but the Peruvian government probably didn't care one bit."

At 25 km, they finally reached the edge of the coca fields, and the road. Instead of heading into the jungle, Paul turned them and ran east, along the edge of the coca field. The field was so huge they were able to run east far enough to get back on course.

That's when it happened. The skies opened up, and the rain poured down. The three of them ran deep into the jungle for cover and continued southeast bound, but at a lot slower pace using animal trails. They did not have machetes to cut through the dense jungle brush.

Rain in the jungle is an annoyance, rather than out in the open, where it is a deluge. You get dripped on from every available leaf, until you are soaked to the bone. The high canopy takes in most of the water. What it doesn't want or need, comes down to the secondary levels were most fruits, berries and seeds grow to feed the animals and birds. What's left comes down to the lower plants, leaves, ground, and tree roots. It leaves the jungle floor moist, for the most part, but sometimes the floor gets muddy, if the rain lasts long enough.

This time it was just a torrential thunderstorm that lasted 10 minutes and was gone. The jungle floor was basically dry, but every time they hit a leaf, their clothes got wetter and wetter. Soon they were dripping, just like the leaves.

As soon as Paul saw an opening in the forest, with a bright sunny spot, he called a halt. He had everyone rest, eat, and change clothes from their backpacks. They went from their travel summer whites, into their full military camouflage gear. Lucy and Rory assembled their M-16s with sound suppressors, while Paul stayed with his handgun, but put a silencer on it. His sniper rifle stayed disassembled in his backpack.

"Okay boy and girl, seven more clicks to go. Let's not screw this up now. Stay alert, and stay sharp."

**********************

Lucille said, "It looks like they're setting up on the veranda for a light repast boss. Range to the bouquet in the middle of the table is 1822 meters. The wind is 6 knots from the Northwest, temperature is 88 degrees, and the humidity is 96%.

"Rory, we are going to take this high spot. Cover us over with branches and leaves first. Then throw whatever other stuff that looks like garbage on us, until everything around us looks like it slopes off from 3 feet down. The only opening I want at this moment is for the Lucy's scope. When they sit down at the table, if anyone is around us, use my handgun, or your knife to take them down. The less noise the better?"

"Whatever you say boss."

"One more thing, if you get back, and I don't, tell the Colonel it has always been my honor to serve with him."

"We are all getting back sir."

"We will see, we will see. We've been very lucky so far. Let's get a move on it, Rory, cover us over."

**************

"Is that too heavy Paul?"

"No, we can slide out the front easily enough. How do we look?"

"You look like a pile of compost back home."

"That will do it. Get lost in the woods. Keep a 50-meter perimeter watch around us. No talking after this."

Rory did not reply.

This is the part all good snipers did, because they were trained to do it. They waited without fidgeting. A snake could crawl across their hands or neck, and they wouldn't move. A spider, a scorpion could do it, and nothing bothered them. Fire ants wouldn't sting them because they never knew they were there.

Lucille was not trained to be a sniper, and she was going nuts. Every time she moved, Paul looked at her. He didn't know how many times he looked at her but it was once too many. He grabbed her by the back of the head and forced her face into the ground. After a minute, he let her up.

The next time she did it he held her down for two minutes.

The next time was three minutes.

She begged, "Please, I can't do four."

He growled. "If you move, we will find out, won't we?"

Lucy never moved again.

After 90 minutes she said, "We have movement on the veranda. They are bringing out melons, and other cut fruit. Here comes the rolling bar. The band is coming outside, and is playing. They are having a party."

"Let me know when you see him on the patio."

Paul put together his Remington 700, checked loading port for dust or dirt, and inserted the magazine filled with Remington's .338 Magnum Lapua rounds. He loaded one round into the chamber, turned on the laser indicator, and opened the tripod. He was ready.

(The Lapua rounds were invented by a Finnish/British Consortium, which gave them a maximum range of over 2700 yards.

Remington asked the US government, "How many times are you going to try to kill another sniper 2 miles away.

Our ammunition will go 1700 yards, kill the sniper, go through the concrete wall behind him, and the wall behind that wall. If anyone is hiding in there, they are in for a very rude awakening."

In a head-to-head competition in 2012, using almost 20,000 rounds of each type of ammunition, Remington's ammunition, beat the Finnish/British ammunition handily.)

"We have men and women moving onto the patio."

"I don't care about men and women, is he on the patio?"

"No he is not."

"I'm uncovering."

Paul opened a 9-inch hole in front of him. It was just enough to rest the barrel of his gun on its tripod, and for him to see through his laser-designator scope. He fixed it on the open patio door, and waited.

Moments later Lucy said, "I have movement just beyond the door."

They walked out side-by-side, Alejandro Hector de Toledo, the President of Peru; and William Silver, the former vice president of the United States.

Paul zeroed in on an area 4 inches left, and 11 inches above William Silver's ear to compensate for the wind, heat, and humidity. With the practice ease of a superbly trained marksman, he squeezed the trigger gently. As soon as the projectile cleared the end of the rifle, he ejected the spent cartridge, and inserted another round of ammunition into the chamber to set up for another shot, if needed. He didn't.

While the projectile was still in flight, Alejandro leaned his head in front of William's to listen to something he was saying, over the noise made by the musicians.

What happened next caused Paul to say, "Oh fuck. Get out of here Lucy. Crawl; don't stand up. Crawl, and crawl fast."

As Lucy made her escape, Paul smashed the scope, and buried it. He ejected the magazine, took out an ampule of liquid from his vest pocket, snapped it open, and poured it down the barrel of the rifle. It started to smolder immediately. He buried the Remington deep under the branches, pulled down the ceiling of their hideout from his side, making it as dense as possible and slid to Lucy's side. He pulled down her side, while escaping through her opening. On the front of their hide, he pulled down more branches to cover their escape point. He made sure it looked as natural as possible. When he was finished, he took a quick look around the area to verify there were no signs of humans' being in that area. Satisfied, he started crawling towards the others. He made sure not to drag the toes of his boots, leaving a trail for someone to follow. The Colonel would have killed him if he made that rookie mistake.

When he met them, he said, "We have to move fast."

He grabbed his backpack, put it on, and began running, flat out.

Rory yelled, "Did you get him?"

"Oh yeah, I got him."

"What's the problem? I don't understand?"

"I killed Alejandro Toledo with the same shot."

"Oh fuck."

Lucille yelled, "Guys, shouldn't we ditch these clothes first?"

"No, not yet, not until we are clear of the jungle."

"Now I know why the Colonel wanted to know if we could run."

"That's right boys and girls, because we are going to run a marathon all the way to that little town."

*****************

Paul kept checking his GPS; trying to get as close to the coca fields as possible. He didn't know, or care if it was dumb luck, or if he was that good a navigator, but he ran right into the same coca fields that got them to the presidential retreat.

"Stop, let's rest and change. We have to bury our military equipment and clothes, and get into our civvies. Keep your knives pistols, passports, and identification papers on you. Remember with tourists."

Lucy complained, "I love getting into wet clothes."

"They won't be wet long; they will be full of sweat."

"Thanks, that I needed to know."

************

Paul said, "We are going to take the short way to the main road this time, and hope no one is at home to see us. Instead of staying by the trees and then going up the dirt road, we are going to run through the coca fields to where the dirt road meets the forest and out to the street the bus took us. It will save us more than five running miles. The only drawback is if someone sees us, and calls out the troops. If that happens, we are in deep shit. Whatever happens, keep running. Once we reach the forest at the far end of this field, we can get lost forever. If they get too close to us, split up and cross the road, and get lost in the jungle. We all know our destination, try to work your way back there. The only people who know what we look like are the bus driver and the passengers, and they are in the opposite direction. The people who are going to be chasing us don't know that. Okay, let's move out. Run, run hard, and run fast."

"Is there any other way?"

"You volunteered for this job, don't start complaining now."

"It's a woman's right to complain."

"In that case, go find a woman to complain to."

****************

William's money or luck was on their side, because they made it back to the main road, without being seen. They turned west and continued running towards the little town, and help.

They had a backup plan they hoped they didn't have to use it, because they were all dog-tired. It was a good thing they did however, because they heard a vehicle coming their way nearly four hours later.

They picked up Lucille and started carrying her as they walked.

Three men, in an unmarked car stopped in front of them. When they got out, they were wearing police uniforms. They walked towards them, with their guns drawn.

"Who are you and what are you doing in this area?"

They put Lucille down, and Rory held onto her.

Paul said. "We are members of a tour group. We were on a bus, and two rear tires exploded. The conductor stayed with the bus, and the other passengers to keep them calm. We are going to a town to get help.