It Ain't Paranoia if... Ch. 04

Gato, Chap, and Kaitlyn came outside and greeted everyone. "Before you ask," Kaitlyn explained, "Coyote found a way down to the springs where Cherry Creek begins, and he wanted to show it to the kids and Doc. He said they aren't going all the way; just as far as they can go on the ATV, so they will be back in an hour."

I retrieved another round from the ice for the four of us and a round for the three newcomers. I returned just in time to hear Kaitlyn ask Clay, "So, Mr. Saguaro, how is it that you just happened to be lounging around in La Kiva when the shit hit the fan?"

He grinned, and said, "I promised Rob I'd tell him and it's something the sheriff should know too, so let me explain."

He gestured toward Claude and said, "We hadn't heard anything about the bounties until just before Chap did, but even though our patron and client is definitely paranoid, we've learned that his enemies are real!

"Some of his enemies are nothing more than embarrassed businessmen and investors who got hornswoggled trying to hornswoggle him, but others are much more serious."

Claude picked it up there. "For those who don't know, which is probably all of you, Rob is the one who loaned me... loaned us the money to start our security firm three years ago. Clay was still in the Army Speci... in the army at that time, but he committed to joining me when he completed ten years.

I began working for Rob when he was still employed by his old firm and was being sent into hellholes all over the Middle East, Africa, and the Balkans.

"When he quit and went out on his own, he kept taking chances in some of the same hellholes, but added Russia, Kazakhstan, Siberia and Venezuela to the mix. It got bigger than one man could handle, so we started contracting with locals in some of the more dangerous places. After more than a few proved unreliable, Rob asked what it would take to find and hire dependable full-time help, and offered to back me after I told him.

"'Ultimate Solutions' was born that night in a bar in, of all places, Casablanca.

"I've hired nothing but former US Military, and we have a pretty solid reputation for a company less than four years old. Just as importantly, we've developed a largely reliable network of sources around the world, which allows us to intervene before our employers are attacked.

"Clay bought in last year after he retired -- at age 29 -- and he added expertise with tech we didn't really have. Without going into details, we use electronics now as much as informants and contacts. He's the reason we uncovered an offer on the dark web that we believe is for you, Rob. It's not real clear that it is for you, though, so Clay offered to mosey down to Big Bend and keep an eye on things.

"Of course, he got sucked in by you and your compadres, and called to tell me this was his best assignment ever! One of our prison informants called about the same time a new techie named Roy learned that Escamilla was offering a premium on your family. Within an hour, we found out that the premium included you, and that he had assembled scum from around the globe that were formerly associated with your old buddy Robert, or with Escamilla."

"I got a text from Claude just before Chap called you outside, but Chap had a lot more information than we did." Clay continued. "We were scrambling around playing catch up. Claude learned about the main force turning at Marathon, so we thought we had sufficient time. That's why I told you to meet me at Study Butte rather than going with you to your house.

"We still think the smaller force was supposed to be reconnaissance only, but you forced their hand and then took them out. Escamilla didn't know what happened because they never reported back, so he led his team right into the trap. After learning you and your family weren't there, they restaged at the Crescent Moon Ranch near Marfa, and we all know what happened after that."

Claude finished with, "So, my friend, you're probably safe from whatever Escamilla put in play, but we just don't know about the other. Hell, we don't even know if there IS 'the other'."

Kaitlyn had been quietly watching and listening. "Claude, Clay, so we may still be in danger? My kids too?"

"Probably not, but we can't promise that!" Claude answered. "We're still digging and calling, but..."

"One thing I'm confused about," Clay interjected. "What was going on with the Escamilla brothers? We always heard the older brother, Reynaldo, was the rough, tough cartel leader, and the younger brother was the Ivy League-educated moneyman. Yet, from what I picked up from your conversations with him, Rob, it sounds like he led a coup."

"Time out!" Gato called. "What do you think I am, a damn camel? I'm making a beer run, and some of you need to come help me bring a round! Then you can continue the story."

The good sheriff and Chap followed along. I collected and threw away the empties, accepted a fresh beer, and then began my answer.

"Raymundo has two Ivy League degrees: an undergrad business degree from Columbia and a Master's in finance from Princeton. He has been investing their human and drug trafficking money, and money from other criminal enterprises like prostitution, and has made them a shit-pot full of money. He wants to move the organization away from the most odious aspects, such as sex trafficking and hard drugs, including opium. His brother was working hard to increase their participation in those fields, while he has been trying to end it.

"Don't get me wrong: there is a huge market for marijuana in the states where it's still illegal, like this one, and he's not going to walk away from that. But Fentanyl and the hard opioid narcotics? He's backing out of those, and he promised his first moves as Jefe would be to get out of sex trafficking and murder for hire.

"He's still a gangster leading a dangerous cartel, but I believe him when he says he's planning to open legitimate businesses, and get into manufacturing and other enterprises that hire and provide a decent living for citizens. We'll see, but we can hope.

"As to the rest, he was Maria Elena's first love. Reynaldo forced her to marry him while 'Mundo was at Columbia, and they have a kid together. The other two kids, though, are actually Raymundo's. Maria Elena's mother was a child bride stolen from her village by the older Escamilla -- the father of the brothers - who was the worst of the bunch. She is thrilled that Raymundo is running the show now, and believes in Raymundo's plans.

"As far as our agreement, I encountered Reynaldo and then Raymundo while working with the Mexican government on a joint mineral exploration project. Reynaldo was demanding a larger 'mordida' for guaranteeing our safety while in their territory than I was willing to pay. I met with his brother, we agreed to throw some very lucrative work to two of their legitimate enterprises, and the project moved forward.

"From that, I became friendly with Raymundo but resented by Reynaldo. We have another, much bigger project upcoming, and I had been planning with Raymundo to ensure it goes off flawlessly.

"He was already well into his effort to replace Reynaldo, in the organization and in the family, when I approached him with another plan. My plan would put him in charge of the organization and in Maria Elena's bed much more quickly, and put his competition in an American prison with his old business partner, Robert.

"It was chancy, but worth a try because it would kill three birds with one stone. We never got an opportunity to implement it, though; Robert and Reynaldo did it for us.

"There is one additional benefit, and this one is for me. With Reynaldo gone, his 'sponsorship' of Robert is also gone. Now Mr. Robert Cauthorn, Jr, will find out what it really means to be a prisoner in a maximum-security federal prison!

"Of course, he can still sell out his friends in the Middle East and Eastern Europe, and perhaps the feds will put him in the witness protection program in return, but we all know that thing is leaky as a sieve.

"With Reynaldo Escamilla gone, Junior's future isn't looking too bright!"

"I'll drink to that!" Claude exclaimed, and we clinked our bottles together in toast. Kaitlyn joined in, with look of pure delight. She seems to be holding a grudge for her other ex. Maybe he shouldn't have beat on her and slapped her kids?

***

The sun was coming up further to the northeast as mid-April approached, a fact my fuzzy brain discerned when I awoke with it shining directly in my eyes the next morning. After emptying the waste from last night's beer from my bladder, I showered, shaved, dressed, and went to the kitchen.

Twin tornados hit me waist high before I made it to the coffee pot, and immediately began diverting me with plans they had made with Uncle Doc and Uncle Cy'ote, who brought me a cup of coffee since I was being held prisoner. After telling me about how the big springs that make Cherry Creek are hidden by trees and brush, but they found a way in, they informed me that we were all going down there this morning to explore! Oh, and we are going to clean up some of the brush and high grass too!

I set my coffee on the kitchen table and took a seat, then picked up my precious kids and set one on each leg so they could continue to share their plans with me while I sipped coffee and tried to clear my head. Seems we also have reservations for a 'Star Party' on Friday night at McDonald Observatory, a visit to Fort Davis and the Chihuahuan Desert Research Center tomorrow, and a swimming party at Balmorhea State Park "as soon as it gets warm enough!"

"Don't forget the Marfa Lights," Uncle Doc prompted, which got me a five-minute regurgitation of Doc's stories about the mystery lights, and how sometimes they come out to play and sometimes they don't, but usually they do if you go at the right times and are quiet!

Their mommy wandered in, watched them on my lap for a few minutes, and then came over to steal a kiss from each before taking the cup of coffee Uncle Coyote offered. She pulled out the nearest chair, took a seat, and listened to their joyous jabbering with a smile and look of love.

Kaitlyn must have been aware of our upcoming trip to the headwater springs of Cherry Creek, because she was dressed in jeans, lace-up leather boots, and a long-sleeve denim shirt. Not a look I'd seen from her before, but it looked good.

No one was in the mood to cook, but everyone was hungry, so we pulled some of Maria's leftover breakfast tacos out of the refrigerator and nuked them. Not a good as when fresh, but with your choice of her salsa roja o salsa verde, they were more than good enough.

Clay and Claude stayed to work their sources and check with their techies regarding the unsubstantiated buzz about someone being out to get me. With Reynaldo Escamilla out of the picture, the temptation was to relax, but the reason Clay was sent out here undercover remained.

They felt they needed to confirm the threat existed, or did not. I admired their tenacity, and was proud to have them on my side.

The eight of us loaded the beds of two of the four-person Kawasaki Mules with chain saws, string trimmers, fuel, machetes, and axes, and made our way down and around the mountain until we were as close as possible to the springs. Chap and Coyote scouted an animal trail and opened it up a bit with their machetes; the kids followed them, we followed the kids with the other tools.

The springs were impressive. Completely hidden and almost inaccessible due to the thick growth of trees, brush, boulders, and grass, the groundwater gurgled powerfully from the base of a sheer, southeast-facing limestone cliff. The cliff was upwards of 200 feet high, and truck-size boulders lay on either side of the spring, shielding it from three sides.

The west side from which we approached was grown up with small and large cottonwood trees interspersed with juniper, scrub oak, pinon pine, and Mexican buckeye. The greatest finds, however, were a couple of thirty-foot high Silverleaf Oaks a few hundred feet downstream. I had seen the rounded tops of the tall trees while looking down from the mountain, but I didn't recognize them as Silverleafs because I could only see the green tops of their leaves. From the creek bed, though, their silver undersides were obvious; they shimmered in the breeze in the way quaking Aspen trees do.

Grace saw me standing there staring downstream and asked, "What do you see, Daddy?"

"Come here beside me and I'll show you."

That statement attracted Dos, Kaitlyn, and the others, who crowded into my little clearing by the stream. "I named this place The Silverleaf Oak Ranch because Silverleaf Oaks are very rare in Texas, but I found three groves up in the highlands behind the house. They are mostly 8-10 feet high, and I had no idea there were any others along the creek, much less two that are at least 30 feet tall!

"Can you guess why they are called Silverleaf?"

She and Dos shouted the answer at the same time: "Because their leaves look silver!"

They wanted to run through the grass to see them up close, but I reminded them that snakes needed water too, and Cherry Creek probably attracted all kinds of snakes, including poisonous snakes like Cottonmouth Water Moccasins, Western Diamondback Rattlesnakes, Prairie rattlers, and maybe even Mohave rattlers from Mexico. That chilled their enthusiasm, and caused them to look around their feet more carefully, which is a good thing.

After surveying the area, we decided to open a single route in and out, and to make it winding enough that no one would be able to easily discern the trail or see the springs from the beginning of the trail. A winding game trail already existed -- most likely Whitetail deer and varmints - so we simply cut the brush and grass back enough that humans walking single file could use it.

We then expanded the natural opening I stood in earlier so all of us could stand or sit within it comfortably, and built a small fire pit on rock, using fallen rocks to create raised sides.

Cherry Creek flows northeast between the two mountains. With the crystal-clear waters, it was easy to see an abundance of roundhead minnows, a variety of perch, and the occasional small mouth bass. Not exactly a fishing paradise, but a great place to relax, cook hotdogs, and melt marshmallows if nothing else.

Using the machetes and string trimmer, we cut a trail though the tall grass and underbrush. The trail took us downstream from the springs to the big Silverleaf Oaks, and we found an even nicer place to gather and sit under the shade of the oak, beside the stream.

After building another small fire pit with very high rock sides, due to the abundance of tall grass growing along the streambed, we explored further downstream, with the machete bearers leading the way. We did encounter snakes, both poisonous and non-venomous, reinforcing the need for caution.

A five or six foot Diamondback was coiled along the route we were following, and, based on the rattling and hissing, was not disposed to let us pass. We stood single file, with Doc in the lead, and waited for the snake to move; he did not.

With the knife from his belt scabbard, Doc cut a five-foot cottonwood branch that had two smaller branches diverging at the end. He trimmed the ends off to make a Y, probed at the snake to induce him to strike, and when he did, used the Y to hold the Diamondback down by his neck. He showed the kids and Kaitlyn the characteristics of pit vipers so they could identify them as dangerous.

A short distance further, we encountered a long, lean water snake sunning on the bank, and he showed them the differences.

At Coyote's behest, we stopped in a small grove of scrub oak another hundred yards downstream, stood still and silent, and looked around the valley. The sound of myriad birds singing hit your sense first; strange, since I hadn't noticed them as we walked and talked.

As he had predicted, we soon saw wildlife appear, including a Whitetail doe and fawn, a cottontail, and a possum Chap spotted hanging in a nearby tree.

Coyote used this as a teachable moment, whispering to the kids that you always see and hear more if you are quiet and still, and that it worked with humans too.

With my senses fully engaged, I smelled the light cologne Kaitlyn wore. She was standing beside me, looking downstream at a small herd of deer that were drinking, oblivious to the humans nearby. She watched them with a look of wonder, and I watched her with a similar look.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, exposing her exquisite neck, cute little ears, small ski-slope nose, and pouty lips in profile. Devoid of makeup, her golden skin tones glowed in the indirect sunlight, her skin smooth and clear.

The denim shirt fit loosely, as did the jeans, yet she jutted forward, curved inward, and jutted backward at all the right places.

Empirically, hers was a rare beauty. I watched until she sensed my attention and looked at me. Tilting her head, she inquired, "What?"

I smiled and turned away; she took me by the arm and quietly whispered, "I love this place!"

***

We stayed until the kids' stomachs gurgled with need.

On the way up, I considered places we could go eat in Fort Davis or Marfa, knowing we hadn't made plans for lunch. To our surprise and with our appreciation, Maria had arrived mid-morning, cleaned up a bit, and prepared a crispy taco bar using my covered serving dishes. Clay, Claude, and the members of our security team who were off-shift had eaten, so the explorers grabbed plates and loaded them with Spanish rice, beans, and beef or shredded chicken tacos, with your choice of water, Dr. Pepper, or RC Cola to drink.

After we finished overeating and were discussing how full we were, she brought out a platter of fresh, Mexican style Buñuelos! Amazingly, we found enough room for a couple each.

Grace and Dos actually admitted they needed a nap, so they gave me a kiss and I watched as Kaitlyn took them to their bedrooms. She looked damn fine in her work clothes, sashaying down the hall.

"Still haven't worked it out en su cabeza, Estupido?" Chap asked.

I looked at him and raised my palms in question. He shook his head.

"Que?" I asked with a bit of agitation.

"When are you going to figure out that the past is past and means nothing now?" he replied. "She loves you," he said with a shrug, "what's keeping you from accepting that love?"

"Maybe the shit she pulled five years ago?" I replied with more agitation. "Maybe because I don't trust her? Maybe because I'm still pissed that she made a damn cuck out of me for months before coming clean? There are lots of reasons, Vato!"

Coyote intervened. "You planning to move back to River Oaks and become pals with the country club crowd? 'Cause those shallow pricks and cunts would definitely consider you a cuck, even if you did destroy ol Robert in response.

"Out here in west Texas, we don't give a shit about stuff like that. People fuck up all the time; people like us. If you live through it, you learn from it, get tougher, and you keep on keepin' on. Can't go back and fix the past, can't fix the future; you can only make the most of the present.

"Shit, Rob, I fucked away seven fortunes, alienated my friends, and learned my non-smoking wife had lung cancer, possibly caused by pollution from my petrochemical factories that I just had to live close to while I was getting them up and running! You think I didn't want to go back and fix all that?

"But I couldn't, so I accepted the situation, brought my wife out here where she could see the stars at night and breathe clean air, and buried her where she wanted, under the shade of that big cottonwood by the creek on our ranch.