Comeuppance Pt. 05-06

Shit, or get off the pot!

****

Sue and the Croc were in the basement, living off Big Red, candy, and the intermittent meal they were required to join. They were in close, constant communication with Mule, who had been quietly tasked to support them by someone far up the military food chain, and her access compounded their efforts. Efforts that center around (1) things happening around and at the behest of Daniel King, and (2) the carefully orchestrated movement of PMC soldiers into the US through airports and shipping centers around the world.

The latter effort required the assistance of the state department, which had been placed on an elevated alert status. That was helpful, but even being classified Top Secret did not prevent some seepage of information from the myriad personnel at the state department and Terrorist Screening Center. To date, it didn't seem to have made its way to King or the PMC, but they knew in due course of time it would.

Sue, Croc, and Mule were quick to alert the proper supervisors if their nets snagged someone, but they were certain some information about the effort was getting by; just as they were positive more mercenaries were slipping in than were being detected.

Most helpful for purposes of identification and tracking had been the tagging of the two PMCs as 'suspected terrorist organization' by the designated intergovernmental agencies, but that action also proved a point: although it was done secretly and deemed Top Secret, the Russian government protested the designation only days later. The hunt was on for the spies, moles, or sloppy employees responsible for that leak.

The former effort - events around and precipitated by Daniel King and his known associates - was more fruitful locally than at the DOJ, which had received secret warrants for surveillance, including cell and telephone exchanges. A select team from the department had been assigned, and, to date, the trio saw no signs that King had been tipped off. To keep their asses somewhat covered, the trio were included as contractors, but they roamed far beyond the parameters of the warrants, so...

The "best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray" proverb came into play, affecting Jack's affirmation to watch and analyze the videos, and determine his best course of action.

It was late July: the crops had ripened and had to be harvested; the cattle hadn't been worked, culled, and shipped, or moved to new pasture during the spring, and the market calves were way overgrown. A windmill needed greasing, two fences needed repair, and the dust bags and back rubbers needed new pesticide so the cattle could keep the flies off themselves. When the center-pivot irrigation system broke in the summer heat, they spent two days repairing that.

Nothing special happened - just the summer work of the ranch - but it kept Jack and Carl tied up most of each day, which wasn't all bad. The work gave Jack a reason to skip meals at the table with April and her fans, which had been wearing on him. She came to the table each day dressed as if for a dinner party, and reveled in the attention of the twenty-plus men who ate over two shifts, for both of which she was seated. Although she ate little, she made her presence known, as if engaged in a popularity contest.

Jack quickly grew tired of that bullshit, so he ate breakfast early, told the Garcia girls he would stop by to pick up his lunch when he got a break from the ranch work, and asked that they leave his supper in the microwave if he wasn't back when they left.

He still saw his estranged wife from time to time, going to therapy in the workout room in the gym, or watching TV in the living area, or chatting with his sister of groups of men, but, as she had demanded, he let her be.

He met with Alfred and Charlie each evening after cleaning up, but he remained away from the planning and coordinating of the defensive efforts. Instead, his quick mind sought out weaknesses in Daniel King's empire in order to concoct offensive schemes through which he could kill the monster. There weren't obvious weaknesses, which meant he had no viable schemes, but he kept at it.

And then it was time for the contract combiners to harvest the maize, and for he and Carl to make hay of the stalks and leaves. When that was done, they cut and bailed the irrigated and fertilized coastal Bermuda grass into round bales, loaded them onto trucks using the spear on the front loader of the tractor, and then placed them in the fenced-off hay pen.

The weathermen said the big "Dog Days H(igh)" was sitting over Texas and the long-range forecast didn't show it moving, so 108-112 degrees with "feel-like" temps of 115-120 became the norm. Nothing special in south Texas, but that kind of weather grinds on a man, and everyone working or on duty outside was on edge. Even Captain Cross was cross.

The H finally moved out to Arizona, leaving Texas with seasonal highs just under triple digits, with a breeze off the gulf that made it felt better outside, and also improved attitudes.

Cowboys had been lined up for the late roundup, with promises of the traditional pachanga after the calves were earmarked and the cattle were medicated and separated back to the proper pasture, or to the shipping pens. Carl had cut out an 800# steer and was feeding him in a separate pen; he would be the "fatted calf" consumed by the cowboys, Delta + and law enforcement guests, family, and friends.

Jack had seen little of his sister and wife, due to being away from the house all day, but they were always well dressed and made up when he did. He had no idea where the clothing came from, since he had donated April's clothing and Janice only had a few things in the spare guest room. Until he noticed the boxes from Amazon, Venus, Nordstrom's, Saks, and other online clothing stores in the recycle bin...

Perhaps it was time to check his credit cards and bank accounts, when he got the chance and had the energy. But even if he bought it all, what would be the point of arguing over it? They were living in his home as his guests, and he had donated all of April's clothes, makeup, etcetera, so he owed her. And then there were his conduct and words to redeem.

They had been drifting the cattle into traps near the working pens all week, but some were hiding out in the thickets near the river, so he joined Carl and Jose on horseback the next morning. They left just after sunup and returned a couple of hours after lunch with the small herd of bawling strays.

The men were sweaty, dirty, and bloody - wearing boots, leather chaps, brush jackets, and hats in late July wasn't by choice but necessity - even then, the thorny brush found places to reach out, grab a man, and make him bleed.

The mix of military and law enforcement personnel on duty were impressed by the dirty, bloody, wet, and nasty-smelling vaqueros who drove the motley, bawling herd into the empty trap, shut the gate, and dismounted. They unsaddled the lathered, foul-smelling horses, set saddle blankets and saddles on the top rail of a wooden pen to air and dry, washed and combed the horses, and set them loose in the horse pen with plenty of feed and water.

As if no one was watching, the two men and the young vaquero stripped off their jackets, chaps, boots, pants, shirts, and hats, hung them over a fence to dry in the hot sun, and crawled up a ladder into the open-top concrete storage tank to luxuriate for a few minutes in the wind-cooled water. Because they were speaking Spanish, not many understood the conversation, but it seemed to be a happy one.

The three climbed out a few minutes later, and, still in their underwear, sauntered barefoot toward their respective accommodations, washing their feet in the grass before entering.

Jack was totally exhausted, yet strangely exhilarated; it had been far too long since he had worked on horseback, and it felt good! That he was lean, hard, and tanned from the weeks of working outside did not go unnoticed by the watchers, including his estranged wife, who observed from a bathroom window.

She should have known he would make his way to that bathroom to shower and change, given it was in the guest bedroom he was using, but she lingered a few seconds too long contemplating what she saw and the feelings it raised. Startled by the door opening, and by her estranged husband entering wearing nothing but wet boxers, she emoted a high octave "Oh," covered her mouth with her hand, and stared.

Jack appeared unfazed; he held her gaze without blinking, and identified the look in his wife's eyes as something more than surprise. "Fancy finding you here, April; are you here to help me with my shower?"

She remained frozen in place, hand over mouth, but her eyes quickly roamed over him before locking back on his. Since she had, he took the liberty to look her over, but more slowly and obviously. Unsurprisingly, she looked fit, trim, tanned, and shapely in the thin white exercise shorts and tank top; after all, she was working out several times per day as part of the regimen her therapists had devised to increase strength, flexibility, and graceful movement.

The facial scars were all but invisible under the tan, even though she wore no makeup, and her hair was pulled back in the messy ponytail she had adopted. Had he not known better, he's have said she looked like his pretty, young, girl-next-door girlfriend, fiancée, and wife. He did know better, but he still got that feeling of recognition.

Jack was blocking the door that April suddenly needed badly to access. "Please let me out," she managed in an almost panicked voice, before taking a tentative step toward him.

He smiled and turned sideways, giving her just enough room to get past, and then gestured with his hand at the open pathway.

She turned sideways to sidle past him, but he put his hand on the doorframe, grinned, and said, "Since I so rarely see you, and you don't speak to me when I do, let me use this moment to make sure you know about Friday's roundup and the pachanga that night. Carl and Jose are cooking the calf in the pit, Chita and Cilla are in charge of the food, but we could use your help and Janice's during the roundup, and with setting up in the implement shed.

"I know you remember how we did it before, and it would be great if you two could keep the cowpunchers hydrated and fed until we're through. The Captain agreed to provide men to assist with loading the pickup, and with setting up the shed for the meal and dancing, so I told him to check with you.

"If you don't want to, though, I'll get some of the wives of the cowboys involved and get Rene's wife, Berta, to head it up."

Her eyes still avoiding his, and with a hint of surliness, she replied, "Janice and I were uncertain of our roles, or if we were even welcome. Since you're asking, yes, we would enjoy reprising our former roles. However, we will need a lot of help tomorrow to get things prepared and the shed ready. When will you remove the tractors and all?"

"The shed will be empty by the time you eat breakfast. You know where the ice chests are, and Bud Allen is bringing sacks and blocks of ice before dawn Friday. Cases of water and Gatorade are stacked by the ice chests; Abraham will have men load it all when you're ready to head to the pastures. The river pasture on the west is done, so we'll start on the northern section and work east. The bulls on the southwest corner will be last, but we'll only need a few men for that so most of us will be working the pens.

"Since it's so late in the year, we're going to go with the fall vaccination schedule. We'll be examining, tagging, branding, and medicating calves, then sorting. The cattle - well, you know the fall routine, so just keep an eye on the guys. It'll be hot as hell by then and we don't want people falling out, so make them drink from early 'til late.

"But you already know all that, so is there anything you want me to do or set up?"

"Not for roundup, but what about the pachanga? Do you have all the supplies?" she answered.

"As I said, Carl and Jose will be pit cooking the calf overnight; Cilla and Chita are responsible for the rest of the food and tea, and the kegs will be delivered around five. Get some of the Delta guys to help you ice down the soft drinks and juice for the kids, set up the big fans, and do whatever else you need.

"You've got them eating out of your hands anyway, so that should be easy."

She heard a tinge of jealousy in his closing words, which caused her to look up. She saw the smile lines around his eyes, and the teasing set of his mouth, but it was hard to tell if the sparkle in his eyes was jealousy, or having fun at her expense. She set her mouth, pushed his hand out of the way, and said, "Don't worry; we'll take care of our part. We didn't forget everything while we were back east!"

She flounced past him, and he thought, "No, just your moral upbringing and marriage vows."

That made him feel bad about not watching the videos and listening to the audio, as he had vowed to do. Maybe he was wrong about that; after all, intent matters. The act of firing an AR 15 at a target on a range, at an armed enemy attacking your home and family, or into a crowd of revelers, all involve basically the same actions; it is your intent that determines whether those actions are morally benign, morally imperative, or your ticket to eternal perdition.

He had to know, but he had roundup first. Reconciling his mind with the evidence would have to wait a few more days.

****

Thursday morning was spent feeding cattle, closing gates to keep each group in the correct pasture, and staging and storing supplies for the Friday events. After a sandwich lunch, Carl shredded the parking area and he used the utility tractor to rake and remove the cut grass and Mesquite and Huisache thorns. This area would be full of pickups and horse trailers tomorrow, and flat tires would not be welcome.

They saw Janice and April hustling around, usually in the company of two or more of the Delta Cross men, always including Lt. Dan and frequently including Josh Abbott. Carl went over to talk with them while Jack was raking, but they never sought Jack out. He picked up the piles with the front loader and moved them to the brush pit where they would be burned, if it ever rained enough to make it safe.

The vet had dropped by with the medications, syringes, and needles, so Jose and Bud Allen were organizing them in the barn refrigerator. They also had to prepare the ear tags and applicators, branding irons, burnt oil, and mops, and grease and test the squeeze chutes. Tomorrow would be a bad day for simple things to have been forgotten or go wrong.

Janice and April were waiting for them when Jack and Clay came in to eat a late supper. "We let the Garcia girls leave early, since they need to be here by 5:30 in the morning," Janice said, "but we saved you each a plate. I'll heat them up now and we can talk about tomorrow while you eat. What do you want to drink?"

Carl grinned: "An ice cold Lone Star, please mam. I've got a mouthful of dirt to wash out before I can even eat! Digging the pit with the backhoe, in the wind, and then helping Jose build the fire - yeah, I'm parched."

"Yeah, beer for me too, thanks," Jack added. They killed the chilled longnecks in one long draw and were given another before the microwave dinged.

Red sand coated their faces beneath where their straw hats had set all day; their hair was wet and wavy; their shirts and jeans had salt stains where they had sweated; their bandana kerchiefs were still wet, and the odors emanating from their bodies were rank.

Janice giggled, and took April's arm. "Let's sit over here, as far from the smell as we can and still be able to talk. These boys needed to go for a swim before they came in!"

April actually chuckled as she sat down, seemingly lost in a reverie. "Yeah, I had forgotten that part! There's nothing quite like a combination of diesel, dust, and sweat to still a rapid heartbeat at seeing your husband after a hard day's ranch work."

Jack stopped chewing to look at her, and he saw the surprised look on his sister's face just before her words dawned on April. She turned red under her tan, and only Carl's riposte saved her. "You two didn't exactly smell like a field of lilacs when I talked to you in the barn, either. How many baths did it take to get all squeaky clean, 'cause I'm gonna need one more than that, and Jack's gonna need two! This boy is RANK smellin. I can hardly eat, settin this close to him!"

The use of the country vernacular and his tone of voice indicated he spoke up to salve April's embarrassment, and she used it as a lifeline. "You aren't exactly a field of lilacs either, buddy! I'm not sure whose odor is worse."

"Okay, enough junior high stuff; what did you want to talk to us about?" Jack interjected, but after a chuckle and in a mellow voice.

"Timing," Janice replied, "and specific expectations: you forget we've been away more than a few minutes, and this is the first time we've ever seen the spring and fall roundups combined. When will the hands arrive, when do you expect to be in the north section and the east pastures, and who will be there? Same question for the workin' pens.

If we're expected to have drinks and snacks available we need at least a tentative head count and timeline!"

Carl laconically answered, "We head out at first light, meaning about 6 am. Not everyone will be here by then, but when they're all mounted we should have trece vaqueros and dos vaqueras, y los dos, so 17 is as good a number as any 'til you get a head count.

"There are some serious brush poppers among us, but it's still hard to say when we'll have the north 640 cleared; maybe 3-4 hours? The half-sections on the east aren't as brushy and those are older cows, but there won't be as many working them, so maybe another 2-3 hours to do both.

"I'll stick with the roundup 'til all the cattle are penned, including the bulls, but Jack and half the hands will go to the pens with the first bunch. Dr. Huff's supposed to be here to help check the livestock and tell us which needs what done, but with 11 vaccines to administer, ears to tag, and keepers to brand, that's gonna be a busy, dusty, hot place, so plan on slipping back every now and again."

"What about lunch?" April asked, "Same as always - whatever you can eat on horseback, or between pens of cattle?" The two men nodded, and Carl pushed back from the table. "Sounds about right."

"My ass is draggin, and dawn is already nigh; unless you've got questions for me, I'm off to the shower and bed. No? Okay, well, sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite - see ya EARLY in the morning!"

"Yea, I need to hit the shower for an hour or so myself. Anything else, ladies?"

"Yes. Please be patient with us tomorrow, and be available to answer questions if we need to ask," April replied. "Like Janice said, it's been a few minutes."

"I know; it's all be okay, and thanks for taking it on. You're gonna be the most popular people on the place tomorrow, and you might want to check with the guys hiding under the camo netting. I know they have their own supplies, but two hot chicks offering cold drinks while wearing skimpy clothes are always welcome. Park a ways away, and ask; you don't want to give their positions away by driving right up to them, but I'll bet they'll appreciate the drinks and snacks.

"Good night, and thanks again."

Jack proceeded toward his bedroom, but diverted to the basement when he got to the door. "Everything A-OK? We still on for tomorrow?"

Captain Cross gave him thumbs-up before offering, "I'm looking forward to it! A city boy like me taking part in a cattle roundup! My friends are going to be green with envy!"

"We'll see how excited you are tomorrow when we're neck deep in brush and prickly pear, trying not to get swept off by Mesquite branches, pushing hardheaded, bawling cows and unruly calves toward the pens. You'll look and smell as bad as I do right now, so go get a good night's sleep. See ya at 4:45."