Smoke Signals
M
ason Walker was busy hacking his way through the wilderness of a Brazilian jungle when Raina Martin questioned him, “Hey Mason, didn’t Luke say that these narcos are living among the native tribes of the region.”
The “narcos” that Raina was referring to were the infamous Brazilian narcotics traffickers known as “Amigos dos Amigos”. The group is composed primarily of Portuguese speaking Brazilians but the name is Spanish for “Friends of Friends”.
But in reality, these clowns were really friends to no one. Their main MO consisted of drug running, extortion, racketeering, and human trafficking—and not necessarily in that order. Wherever Amigos dos Amigos went they left shattered communities in their wake, and now they seemed poised to expand out into the previously untouched Amazonian wilderness itself.
Some of the reaches of the Amazon are so remote that there are tribal groups of people who are said to have never come into contact with the outside world. These tribes have lived along the Amazon for centuries surviving on a simple hunter gatherer existence. Life was hard but it was at least their own.
In the past their biggest threat had been from loggers cutting down their ancestral rain forests, but now they faced a whole new menace in the form of organized crime; ready and willing to spread its insidious tentacles even into the depths of the pristine jungles of the Amazon. The indigenous peoples who had lived in harmony with nature were now themselves being uprooted, cut down, and despoiled. Their men being compelled to strap bags of cocaine to their backs as human mules of the drug cartels and their women induced to sell their bodies.
Recalling fully the briefing that Luke Simon, their mission leader had given them, Mason grunted, “Yeah—Amigos dos Amigos. The Amazon is like the final frontier for these bozos. And these perps seem hellbent on going where no other low life has gone before—introducing drug addiction and prostitution to the rain forest. Some all-around real classy guys.”
Raina Martin nodded while simultaneously swatting away a mosquito, “Uh-huh. I’ve got a feeling that there is probably some pretty major interplay between the native chiefs and these narcos as well—in fact I believe that some of the chiefs might be narcos.
”
Mason was a bit taken aback by this one. A few natives getting conned into drugs or sucked into sex trafficking by these monsters was one thing, but could the chiefs really be in cahoots with dealers? The thought made Mason wonder out loud, “Really? Do you think so?”
Raina hacking her way through a branch with a machete nodded, “Yeah, I really do.” Tossing a hewn limb out of her way she then stumbled into a clearing, and remarked, “There have been recent reports of outsiders traveling back and forth between the villages and on top of that local chiefs have had a sudden influx of resources that they never had before.”
It was just then that Raina’s eye caught something that seemed to be reflecting the light of the sun on the ground. It looked like a small mirror, or piece of metal, but she wasn’t sure. She picked it up and turning it over in her hand she realized, “What? It’s some kind of tablet.”
As she examined the device, she was surprised to find that it was turned on. Placing the screen under the shade of a nearby tree she muttered, “Huh—it’s solar powered.”
She then proceeded to scroll through some pictures saved on the device and gasped, “There are pics of natives—tribal members on this tablet!” Mason turning toward her asked, “What do you mean?”
Raina then handed him the tablet and told him, “Take a look for yourself.”
Taking the tablet in his hands Mason scrolled through the pictures, and was amazed. It was indeed full of scenes of tribal life in the Amazons as if it was owned by one of the tribal groups themselves. He saw photos of natives going up the river on canoes, of sitting around their campfire and of people just being silly—basically taking selfies all throughout the untamed wilderness of the Amazon.
For a group of natives who shunned technology and all the trappings of the outside world, it was rather stunning to think that some of them were now running around with solar powered tablets. The question was—who gave it to them?
Mathew Benton who had been keeping a close watch on their rear as they progressed through the wilderness, just then stepped toward Mason as he inquired, “Whatcha got there, brother?”
Benton peered over Mason’s shoulder and looked for himself, “Well—will wonders never cease. Selfies in the amazon?”
Mason nodded, “Yeah—Raina thinks that maybe the drug lords are bestowing gifts upon the natives.”
Benton shrugged, “Could be—but not necessarily. I’ve heard stories of Christian missionaries giving tablets to remote tribal groups. Usually in an effort to spread the gospel.”
Mason questioned, “Oh yeah?”
Benton nodded, “Yeah—usually there’s a Bible app downloaded on it.”
Raina joined the conversation, “A Bible app?”
Mason who wasn’t really a religious man himself, chuckled, “Got to reach the masses somehow right?”
Mason then quickly searched through the tablet’s apps but not coming up with anything Bible or even remotely Christian oriented, he declared, “Um—nope. No bible app on this thing. This isn’t from any missionaries.”
The next few photos they observed then confirmed this as they saw a picture of a man who was definitely not a native grinning back at them amongst the tribal members. Wearing the paramilitary fatigues that constituted the uniform of Amigos dos Amigos, there was no denying where this tablet had come from.
Benton looking out at the horizon, realized the sun was soon going to be bearing down on them and that they needed to make some serious progress before the morning gave way to afternoon. He advised the group as much, “At any rate folks—we got to get moving.”
They both then began trekking through the uneven terrain of what constituted a Brazilian wilderness trail. Just then Raina spotted something on the horizon, a bluish mist. No. Actually it was a hazy kind of smoke billowing from the edge of the trees. A kind of smoke that could only be produced from a batch of toxic chemical excess from an active drug lab. A drug lab right in the middle of the Amazon.
Mason already knew as much, as Raina shouted, “Over there! These guys have a full-blown meth lab brewing!”
Benton questioned, “A meth lab?”
Mathew Benton then added his own opinion to the mix, “Or maybe a proving ground for heroin and crack cocaine.”
Mason cynically chuckled, “Yeah—well, whatever it is… It’s certainly not the normal kind of smoke signals that I would expect around these parts that’s for sure!”
Staring at the smoke stacks in the distance, Raina seconded, “You got that right.”
Mason then went off to the right of the clearing and probing with his machete managed to find a thinly covered opening. Hacking away a few branches the two then beheld a roughly laid—but still quite visible, and heavily trod trail in front of them. As Mathew Benton stepped toward them, Raina squinting her eyes at the muddy trail declared, “Alright folks—welcome to the Amazonian illicit narcotics highway.”
