Not Quite a White Knight Vol. 04.2

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Evening

Everybody at the evening meeting at the Pablo was sworn to secrecy. My uncle Martin, in his Colonial military uniform, sat next to Jax and made it clear he would oversee the details. Felipe, Rojas and Irene were also there in uniform. Tony and I were in a booth backstage in case any questions came up.

There was some general discussion, without maps, trying to see if other ideas emerged.

Martin let the unguided discussion go long enough to see who had any brains, then shut down that avenue of discussion. "Assume a path in the jungle can put six of our M2 mortars and ammo within range. Call it a "jungle taxi." Who wants to shoot, who wants to target and who is willing to start training?"

At this point he had not mentioned the enemy, the location or even the date. But now he asked each attendee to stand up and declare if they were in "for the duration" or if they wished to be excused. He really did not need that many volunteers. Some people had issues or constraints so they were excused. After they left Martin ordered the room sealed, stressed secrecy. This was Friday night, the trucks would leave for the training grounds Sunday. They would board the ship on the 15th. Technically it was a pleasure cruise until about September 5 when they docked in Florida. They would fly back from there. If they wanted, I would fly families out for a week in Florida or New Orleans or Texas. Everyone who was on the trucks would be paid for their time. There might be some prize money to share as well - we hoped to avoid bombing the cars and tractors, so we would ship them out. Cuba and Belize were a good markets for us.

I did not mention the Kodiak, but that might also be a prize.

It was August, in California, so while it was not Death Valley it would be hot, but the work and training would be at night. Martin circulated what was needed.

Then I ended the meeting with a short presentation. To head off the obvious question about right and wrong I stated that we faced 3 choices:

"1) We can allow 150 drug crazed Aztexs with automatic weapons into the Paulo to kill the innocent until they run out of ammo, or

2) We can kill them at the door with flame throwers and mini-guns while the news choppers tape it for the evening news, or

3) We can kill them like wild animals being slaughtered using mortars ahead of time so they won't even see us and can't shoot back. I am voting for the mortars. Any questions?"

The crowd was pumped. This was their home, it was under threat along with their families for reasons that they had nothing to do with. I was going to give them the means to fix it.

"Yeah Jefe!"

"Jefe is wise!"

"Jefe is powerful!"

"Long live the Patron!"

Finally, on cue, Jax asked a question of the thing we skipped over, he just had to ask because he saw some folks who did not fit with the others on the fire team. "If the jungle is so dense, what sort of vehicles can we use to place the mortar team and cut off escape?"

I made the answer short. "Mortar teams ride an uprated M-113. Escape will be cut off, along with any Mexican hassles by their authorities, using a tank."

Jax said, on an open mike "Madre de Dios, Jefe is taking a tank to a gunfight?"

"I don't like fools who plan to mess with my people," I replied.

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Next I personally talked to 4 volunteers who could drive an APC and a tank. I had commander with the M113 mortar squad who was too old for the mission, but was aces for the training. Two guys stepped up as drivers for the M113, one was over fifty while the other was in his thirties and had driven the standard and command versions. An older guy with tank experience also reported, he had served in an M60 until 1995, and had a few hours in the Sheridan. I said he could go along, but he had to train another driver. He agreed to the deal. He loved the "sporty" Sheridan he had for a few months. He said the main training issues related to the missile option for the main gun, but I would not use any of that, we were sticking to HE and flechette rounds.

"Those are nasty," he said. I agreed, each flechette round sent 10,001 lethal iron darts out at supersonic speeds.

Martin and I set up the training camp at my dessert factory, I did not want them at BAD. I drew the weapons from the LA barracks. It did not take long to master the M2 mortar for the 200 to 500 yard range at the flat desert range where the guys could see their mistakes.

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After the meeting we left Jax at the Paulo and the rest of us met at the mansion. We did all the initial planning based on satellite maps, which Tony looked over. But those maps are not always up to date. We tried some more services and got the most recent picture.

The pyramid and the campground was pretty obvious once you knew where to look. The plan was six mortars set up a couple of hundred yards from the pyramid, the fire crews would be able to "walk" mortar shells back an forth across the field until everybody was dead. It would take time and folks might try to escape. The "wall" of the forest made the location a fortress, but that also cut off escape except for the path to the parking lot. The bombardment would start there. Claymore mines and the tank would close the door on those options.

Plan "B" was similar. If the APC could not get through the woods on the Monday test run, the alternate plan was for both the tank and the APC to use the road. The tank could push aside anything encountered on the road, even a full Mexican army patrol was helpless against it, although we would prefer to avoid that. The APC was vulnerable, so the mortars would set up down the road from the target, and fire from there. The tank would park at the entrance to the grounds, doing double duty firing on anybody leaving the party grounds or anybody coming down the road.

Part of the plan was that the Monday before the holiday, two scouts would drive a jeep to the location to steal pesticide from the tractor shed and prep the site with cameras and claymores. At the same time the M-113 would make a preliminary run to "brake a trail" it could use. On Tuesday the M-113 would retrace the trail, lay stolen poison, and do ranging fire tests. Irene and one other scout would return to spot where the ranging fire landed - a different skill set. Meanwhile the APC folks would leave the mortars and shells at the fire base in the forest after getting them ranged in with the spotters. On those days no Aztexs should be at the party location because the poison was still lethal. Tuesday the "B" mortar location would also be used for ranged fire from the jeep.

Tony asked how we would dispose of the bodies killed after we rained burning steel hell on them.

I answered that nature would take care of it, bugs eat bodies and spiders eat bugs. Then the hurricanes come every year to wash the land clean. It is Mother Nature's way.

Of course, the bugs don't eat cars. There would be a parking lot full and that is where prize money might come in. Crow said that the dress code for the big fun night was briefs or less. After all it was date night with the local girls who would be bagged for fun. Before sundown all keys, wallets, cell phones and everything else stayed in the cars in the parking lot, the Aztexs partied naked because they figured the parking lot was secure at night. Well, they did not expect a tank to crash the party.

After everyone was dead and the fires were out we could take our pick of the cars. Taking the tractors, cash, etc. could make close to a million dollar payday, it seemed that Aztecs liked Euro-SUVs. There was a jetty 5 miles away so, the plan was to grab up all the cars we could carry in the ship on Monday, after every owner was dead and unable to file a complaint, but before the locals got nosey about the gringos.

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The newest satellite views were pretty clear once we knew what we were looking for. The jungle was dense for a radius of ten miles around. The road past the grounds was heavy gravel, designed for semi's, double wide, with a ditch on each side. There were times when the fishermen needed large trucks to unload the the fishing boats and this was the fastest way. Road clearing took place each Spring allowing it to stay clear of the jungle.

The entrance to the parking lot/campground was on the road, there was a gate and the solid fence was improved from Tony's last visit but there were no signs indicating what was behind the fence. A short road after the gate turned sharply as it led to the lot, so even when the gate was open you could not see anything useful like the parking lot from the road.

The parking lot was at least three-times the size of a football field, divided into large grid. The space was originally cleared in winter over 40 years ago with dynamite and a controlled burn, then sand was laid down to prevent plant growth. (The thick prickly shrubs needed wet soil like a swamp.) The idea was for each camper to spread a tarp on the ground to prevent contact with the poison, park his car on the tarp, and set up his tent right next to the vehicle.

By the start of the path from the lot was a large shed where the two tractors and the bug-poison were stored. The dog-leg path was maybe a quarter-mile long, leading to the oval-shaped "party" area where the pyramid was visible at one end. The party area was kind of a natural amphitheater, the Mayans used the dirt from the field to build the pyramid at one end.

When Tony studied the latest photos from space, he noticed a new feature in the area - a brick building on a concrete pad, situated right at the "knee" of the dogleg path halfway between the party area and the parking lot. It was the one spot on the quarter-mile long path that had sight lines to both the parking lot and the party grounds.

Rojas looked at the position and mentioned that a crew-serviced machine gun, mounted there, could control the entire path.

Felipe said he favored a tripod-mounted grenade launcher for the job, despite a shorter range it was easier to range and had a better hit rate. "Close is good enough for grenades," he said.

Irene smiled at me, she knew I had something better than either option for holding that point, 10,001 flechettes would clear the section of the path for the entire length with one shot. That was the payload of an short-range antipersonnel 152 mm shell fired by the tank.

We revised plan "A," instead of the tank sitting in the parking lot, we would move it to this brick building, where it had better kill shot at anybody getting away.

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A few days later we sent a question about the building to Crow at BAD, where I had 4 soldiers stationed. Crow mentioned that the building was new, put up last winter. (Insect and spider activity is down in weather that is too cold to party.) It was very secure and spider-proofed, built on a concrete pad with cinder block and mortar construction and a hurricane-proof reinforced metal roof. There were solar panels and batteries to power an AC system and lights. "That was going to be called the 'Tony House'... or at least it was until you killed him. It has a couple of jail cells. The plan was to hold the sacrifices there from Thursday until their big night. Also where the VIPs try the brothel girls they buy. Now I wonder who they will get for the sacrifice?"

Yeah, I wondered about that too. I had one idea that was obvious, but I thought not to mention it. Crow said that, for the first time, they planned a "warm-up" sacrifice for Saturday night, it was some Houston politician and their Chief-of-staff who had double-crossed the gang after the Aztexs helped in the election. The Saturday sacrifice would be filmed as an example for other politicians.

They found another sacrifice for Sunday a double, and I learned about it the hard way. As soon as I heard the name it was obvious, and too late. I know I am not right in the head, but I guess my surprise proves I am not as sick as the Meth-heads.

Fortunately, I gave Tony the tools for a contingency plan. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I started drafting more reports to Uncle Martin and the 49 leadership.

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Chapter 20. Weapons Firm

In the late 1800's cocaine was legal in the US where it was used in a successful well-known soft drink marketed to children. (Note: this is true.) Despite the small amount of cocaine used in production ("just a pinch" said the secret recipe) they featured the ingredient in the name of the cola. Buyers came to the Amazon and bought the product which essentially grew wild.

That cola is an American success story. You might have had some this week, but they stopped using cocaine some time ago.

The Patron at the time had a large amount of the weed, was able to mobilize his people, and had access to the "river highway" so he made a great deal of money selling the product for a bonus price at the ocean ports of Manaus in Brazil and Iquitos in Peru.

But what to do with the money? Most growers used it as a down-payment to expand their farms. Then they got caught with debts they could not pay when the US government changed the law and banned the ingredient. But the Patron never depended on one product, he asked himself what a long-term, recession-proof investment might be. He picked a firm in Brazil that made weapons and ammo for the military forces around the world, unless peace broke out nations would always need more bullets and bombs.

The munitions company specialized in customers seeking low-cost products. Perhaps all royalties on the sales were not always paid, giving the Brazilians a profit advantage over the competition in Germany, France and England. Plus, they could supply some unconventional nasty products, like exploding bullets, to folks who could not be bothered with international conventions.

It got to be that whenever the Patron had extra cash, he invested in in this company using holding companies.

In the US, since the 1930's there are strict reporting requirements for corporate ownership. There are exceptions, but essentially anyone with significant constructive ownership (5% or more) must file a report each month of their activities. These reports are available to the corporation and the public. So it is difficult to sneak up on, or sneak out of, a US corporation. If you do it is probably a crime.

At the time nations like Brazil did not have the same rigor about such things. The successive Patrons kept investing in the munition firm for a century, using a web of holding companies under the watch of their Cousins, to keep things quiet. When the not-so-legal cocaine trade started again there was much more cash to invest. By the 1980's the Patron's various holding companies owned a controlling interest in "BrazArms." They did not take an active role in ownership, but when the "Conquistador" group of stockholders requests something the CEO is very receptive. The provide hard-to-get items like big bullets for my tank, AP rounds for various rifles, rounds for the Carl Gustav recoilless rifles and the 105 naval guns the "Cousins" have on their two Q-ships. The most recent purchase was a bargain price on the Mark 25F mortar rounds originally ordered by a African warlord who only took delivery on a fraction of the production run. The remaining inventory was now nearing the end of its shelf life so the company was glad to sell at a steep discount.

Think of a shotgun pointed down, firing from directly above the target. The pellets, which are the size of a bullet from a large pistol, are coated with "willie-pete" a.k.a. flaming white phosphorus. The mortar shell is the shotgun, it explodes over the target on the way down, firing a cloud of flaming bullets aimed straight down on the Aztexs during their human sacrifice party.

Is that ironic?

It felt rather righteous to me, and that is something I am usually unfamiliar with.

The targets in this case deserved the surprise, they were real low-life's, unscrupulous bastards who would use automatic weapons carried by drugged-out crazies to attack women and children in their homes at the Pablo.

A quick death was too good for them. Tony agreed, it was better than divorce via open the heart surgery in public.

Tony did cancel his wife's life insurance, with no death certificate there would be no payout.

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