Retribution Road by Jon Coon (e reader comics .TXT) 📕

They will drag us back into the Dark Ages, into feudal wars and raiding hoards. I’m afraid it’s already started. Most people just haven’t realized it or, if they have, don’t want to admit it.”

“Okay, show me that what my dad is saying makes sense and I’m in. If this is the beginning of Armageddon, I’m not going down without a fight.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“But you have to show me. Otherwise I’m taking the kids and going home. This is all just too frightening. Too crazy.”

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll figure this out. If your dad is wrong, I’ll leave with you.”

Juan Mateo Caldera, El Patrón to the hundreds in his employ, paced the spacious tile and stucco room of his home in the side of the mountain overlooking the Lacandon Jungle and Usumacinta River. He had a drink in one hand and a Cuban cigar in the other, and barked orders to a desk phone on speaker on a black, ornately carved, wooden desk.

“The military trucks should be here by dawn. Get that Semtex aboard, and I want them underway by midnight. Sea conditions are good, and they should be there in three days. Have the support vessels on station by tomorrow. Understood?”

“Yes, boss. Everything is ready.”

“It had better be. Everything must be perfect.”

“Si, boss. Perfecto.”

“Set up a meeting with Maria. It’s time for her to play her part.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good. Do it.”

He walked to the desk and punched off the phone, then walked to the balcony doors and stepped out onto the shaded veranda. A fountain gurgled and muted jungle sounds echoed from the mountain. A parrot greeted him and begged for fruit. He went to the cage and fed the bird a small cluster of grapes, one at a time. “Thank you,” the bird repeated each time, encouraging him to be more generous. Lareina, his beautiful wife, appeared in the doorway dressed in a loose flowered blouse and short skirt, her outfit revealing well-tanned legs and ample cleavage.

“It’s almost time, my darling. We’ve waited long enough.”

Later that night, Tom’s phone, the one reserved for Maria, chimed softly. He excused himself from the dinner table and walked outside on the front porch.

“I’ve only got a minute,” Maria said.

Caldera was standing behind her, listening intently.

It wasn’t a good connection. There was a scratching and tapping that made it hard to hear. Tom smiled and hit record.

Maria continued. “Something big is going on here. I think they are about to move tons of coke into the Keys. I’ve never seen so many Picudas. I don’t know where he got them all.”

“When?”

“I’d say within a week. And, Tom, be careful. They’re taking a lot of hardware. It looks like he wants a fight.”

“I understand. We’ll be ready. You okay?”

“As much as I can be. I miss you.”

“Say the word and I’ll get you out. You know that.”

“Not yet. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He shut off the phone and watched the sun setting over the western hills. He’d gotten her message, but it wasn’t her words, spoken with Caldera standing over her shoulder. It was the one in Morse code she’d tapped and scratched on the phone. Their plan of communication for moments just like this one. He went into his office, played the call again, writing down the taps and scratches, and then pulled a code book from the top shelf of his gun safe. He left the safe door open. Gabe knocked just as Tom finished decoding Maria’s message.

Gabe looked distracted, concerned. “I just got a call from New Orleans. Alethea’s in the hospital. It doesn’t look good. I need to go.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tom said and rose from his desk. “Do you want me to fly you over?”

“There’s a red-eye from Dallas/Ft. Worth that will get me there by morning. If I leave now, there’s time. I guess I need to borrow a truck.”

“By all means. Keys are in the shed. Anything you need, just call.”

“Carol is down at the stable. Would you explain—”

“Of course. Go on, get out of here and call us when you know how she’s doing.”

“Thanks, Tom. I’ll be in touch.” As he was leaving, Gabe noticed a sniper rifle in Tom’s safe. “Isn’t that an MK 15, the sniper rifle the SEALs use?”

“Yes. Ever fire one?”

“No, but our tac team just got two. I saw them on the range. Pretty impressive. Our guys said some Canadian made a kill at thirty-five hundred yards. Hard to believe.”

“When you get back, we’ll take that one out. You’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will. Well, keep me posted, and I’ll check in as soon as I know how Alethea’s doing.”

“Roger that. Safe travels.”

Gabe tossed a few items in a jump bag and headed toward the door. His service weapon was holstered in his duty belt in the closet. It would be faster clearing TSA without it. He started to leave it, but then decided he could lock it in the truck. He grabbed it, tossed it in his bag, and hurried down the stair and out to the truck shed, which was as large as a small motor pool.

The drive was uneventful. He pulled into the parking garage, locked his gun in the toolbox in the bed, and was leaving the truck when his phone rang. Carol was on the other end.

“Hey, Dad just told me. What’s up?”

“Cas called. Alethea’s back in the hospital. Cas says it doesn’t look good, and Alethea wants me there.”

“Oh, Gabe, I’m so sorry. Do you want us to come?”

“Let me see what’s going on, and I’ll let you know. But thanks. If it’s bad, I’d appreciate your being with me.”

“Okay, just let me know.”

Gabe had arrived at the ticket counter, and even shortly before midnight, there was a line. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call as soon as I know anything. Promise.”

“Gabe, I love you. Don’t let Cas make you do anything stupid.”

Chapter 27

AT DAWN, TOM SAT STARING at Maria’s decoded message: “Semtex. Narco subs. Three days.”

He picked up his