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

friends here knew the odds were great that a percentage of government were on the cartel’s payroll. So there had to be something so spectacular it couldn’t be swept under the carpet. And with the deal they just made with our president to help solve the illegal immigration problem, our government was able to offer more incentives for them to stop drug trafficking.”

“Even our government was in on this?”

“All the way to Pennsylvania Avenue. Your dad had a lot of friends.”

“Friends like Senator Bob Benson?” The tears broke through.

“Exactly. And there’s something you need to see. Your dad was concerned about the workers who would have nothing without the income the drugs provide. So he went to Bob Benson and made a deal. It’s all here on his laptop. Sit down and you can read it.”

She sat in a folding chair in the shade of the plane’s wing, wiped her eyes, and read what Henry showed her. When she finished, she stood and closed the computer. She looked at Gabe, and her gaze was stone-cold.

“Gabe, you said Caldera’s wife has four kids, right?”

“That’s right.”

“We need to meet her. If she cares anything about those kids, she needs to see this. Do you know where to find her?”

“That’s going to be tricky. They don’t like us much.”

“I don’t like them much either, but whatever it takes, this has to stop. Help me, please.”

“I think Jimmy found them with the satellite. I’ll call him.”

Gabe returned a few minutes later with a page full of notes. “They live in the mountains above the Usumacinta River. There’s a landing strip on the property. I’ve got the GPS numbers.”

“Henry, I need to borrow this plane.” She didn’t say please.

“Are you sure you don’t you want someone to go with us?” Gabe asked. They were sitting in the cockpit, brakes on, engines revving.

“You mean someone more likely to get you back in one piece? Relax. It’s like riding a bike, and I never fall off.”

She gave the instruments a final check and released the brakes. The old B-25 rolled down the tarmac, raised its tail, and lifted skyward. “Feel better now?”

“Yeah, but isn’t that the easy part?”

“Now you know what I felt like on those ghost dives back home in the river. Believe me, this isn’t nearly that scary.”

“Ah, we’re dropping in unannounced at the home of the biggest drug lord in this country, and that’s not scary?”

“I’ll just tell him I want to have tea with his wife and maybe save the lives of their kids … and mine.”

“I’m really sorry about your dad, Carol. I’m in shock that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was really going on.”

“I’m his only daughter, his only child, and he didn’t trust me either. Let’s just wait until this is over to have that discussion.”

She flew southeast from Palenque to the river, wide and brown, and followed it south along the border with Guatemala. They flew over denuded jungle, reduced to fallow fields and burned-out pasture. Closer to the jungle, the farms improved. Then they were over the remains of the Lacandon Jungle, tropical rainforest unequaled for its biodiversity of both flora and fauna.

They passed the town of El Porvenir, one of the many Maya ruins tourist sites, and Gabe, who was tracking their progress on his computer, said, “We’re getting close.”

They followed a large meander in the river, and at a point where at first there was nothing but jungle, a magnificent stone hacienda, four stories high with balconies on each floor, emerged as if cut out of the mountain face. On the plateau behind it was a grass runway. Carol circled, reducing power and altitude.

“It’s been a while. You might want to tighten up.”

“Thanks a lot.”

She came in low and slow, touched down cleanly, and taxied to the end of the field. There, she turned back into the mild wind and cut the engines.

“Well that’s a surprise,” she said with a determined set of her jaw. “We made it.”

“I never doubted. Not for a minute.”

“Liar. Shall we walk up to the house?”

“We might want to just sit tight. Looks like there’s a reception committee.”

Two SUVs were winding down the drive from the house. They pulled up to the plane in short order and stepped out with automatic weapons Gabe guessed were Uzis.

“Vete! Vete! Get out!” the men shouted.

Gabe cautiously opened the door and stepped out onto the wing with one hand up. He helped Carol with the other. They stood with their hands up, waiting.

“What’s her name again?” Carol asked.

“Lareina. ‘The queen.’”

“Please, we need to talk with Señora Caldera—Lareina. It’s very important.”

“Who are you?”

The English was good, the inflection and composure threatening.

“Carol Bright, Captain Bright’s daughter. You destroyed our ranch.”

“That might not have been a positive opener,” Gabe said. His hands were still in the air.

“I want them to know who we are.”

The English speaker made a short call, then said, “Get down. Señora will see you.”

They climbed down and were frisked efficiently, then herded into the vehicles. They parked on a stone terrace at the back of the lavish home and were escorted by elevator to the top floor. Señora Caldera met them at the elevator with two guards and led them to couches on the veranda. She wore a floor-length pool wrap, and her hair was in a towel.

“Is your husband here?” Gabe asked.

“I understood you wanted to speak with me.” The reply was cool and matched her demeanor. “Speak.”

“My father was killed today in this war between our families, our countries, and I want it to stop. We both have children. Your husband’s men shot and kidnapped my son. You destroyed our ranch—”

“You destroyed my home and killed my parents.”

“Yes, and if we can’t reach a truce, this will never stop while any of us or our children are still alive. I’m so sorry about your parents and your brother. That was a terrible thing. But so are the deaths of kids who overdose or go to prison