~ * ~ * ~ * ~
I heard the final call from Patch saying the sniper had been taken out. “Good job guys, come on back to the radio shack. Brady, bring the helicopter around and use the Gatling gun to knock out a couple of more telephone poles so you have a landing zone.”
It was like all the cheerfulness on earth had evaporated. The billowing clouds of the approaching storm seemed appropriate. The gusts of wind had the treetops swaying back and forth now. I was having trouble organizing my thoughts my sorrow was so deep.
I watched as Brady and Chris passed overhead in the helicopter. The Gatling gun whirred as it spat out its projectiles and destroyed the telephone poles. It got eerily quiet when the Sea Hawk shut down its engine. Chris and Brady appeared with a gurney from the helicopter to transport Carlos’s body on.
“Rick, I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say that will help,” Chris admitted sadly.
I stood with my head hanging down. Partially blaming myself for what had happened. I was just feeling sorry for myself and would realize in the coming days that I couldn’t have stopped what had happened to Carlos.
“I guess there isn’t much anyone can say that can help,” A single tear slid down my cheek.
Chris grabbed me in a big bear hug slapping me on the back. “What’s going to happen to Juan?” Chris asked.
“Carlos’s last thoughts before he died were of Juan. I promised Carlos that I would raise Juan myself.”
“That’s a big commitment Rick. Have you talked to Karen about it?” Chris asked me.
“Carlos had a premonition that he was going to be killed. He said he saw his death in his sleep night after night. During the last couple of days he asked me to make sure Juan got safely out of Cuba and I told him that I would do that. Francisco is staying behind because of his wives family.”
“Yeah, but you are going to still have to talk to Karen about Juan, Rick. Knowing Karen I’m sure she’s going to be onboard with your commitment but she still needs to know.”
My satellite phone picked that time to ring. “Maybe we’ll find out right now,” I said as I answered the phone.
“Rick I just heard about Carlos, I’m so sorry,” Karen sobbed into the phone. “Oh God, Juan’s lost both of his parents in three weeks.”
“It was a sniper. He took the shot from over a half mile away. Carlos never had a chance Karen.”
“I heard that Chris and Brady were called in to help hunt for the sniper. Have you had any luck finding him?”
“Patch got him, it’s all over. We’re going to transport Carlos’s body back to the village now.”
“I suppose Juan will go and live with his aunt and uncle now,” Karen reasoned out.
“That’s something you and I need to talk about Karen. I’m not sure the right place to do it is over the phone though.”
“I don’t know what you mean Rick,” Karen said in a confused voice. “What do we need to talk about?”
“Carlos was sure he was going to die before leaving Cuba. He told me about dreams he’d been having. Francisco isn’t leaving. He’s having problems with his wife’s mother. He asked me a couple of days ago if I’d make sure Juan got out of Cuba and found a home where he could sleep at night and have a normal childhood and I agreed to do that for him.”
“After Carlos was shot this morning and he lay on the ground dying his only thoughts was on the future of Juan. I promised him that we’d raise him as our own son and that he didn’t have to worry about Juan’s future. He was able to die in peace knowing Juan was going to be all right Karen.”
The mother hen in Karen kicked into high gear. “Of course we’ll raise him Rick. It’s going to take time for Juan to heal from this experience. We’re going to have to be patient with him.”
“That’s why I love you Karen, thanks for understanding,” I said gratefully. “I’ll call you back in a bit. I need to take Carlos back to the village and break the news to Juan.”
“Oh Rick, that’s going to be so hard to do,” Karen said sobbing over the phone.
“Yeah I know,” I said, my voice trembling. “I wish I didn’t have to do it,” I said truthfully as I shut the phone off.
By now the men that were on the hunt for the sniper were back at the radio shack. We solemnly loaded Carlos’s body onto the helicopter and climbed aboard it.
“Brady, take us over to the boathouse first. I want to have a little talk with El Diablo.”
Brady looked over at me and nodded his head. “You got it LT, first stop is the boathouse.” The helicopter climbed over the treetops before Brady turned it towards the sea. We sped directly over the fortress on our way to the boathouse. Brady set the bird down in the area between the buildings and the docks.
As I got out I could smell the odor of rotting flesh. A couple of days in the tropical heat could decay bodies rapidly. I walked into the operations center. The flies inside were almost a solid wall. They were feasting on the two bodies that lay inside.
I went to the sound powered phone and spun the crank calling the fortress. “Who is this,” the voice on the other end asked.
“Is this El Diablo, the killer of women and children,” I spoke with a raspy voice over the phone.
“This is the Comandante of El Diablo Alcazaba,” the man sneered over the phone.
“You made a big, big mistake today asshole. You sent a sniper to kill Carlos Estaban.”
I could hear laughter over the phone. “I take it Cortisone was successful then?”
The laughter ignited the anger in me. “He got his man, but we got him. He won’t be doing anymore killing for you.”
“That is not possible,” the Comandante said over the phone. “Cortisone was the very best at what he did.”
“Hell, he wasn’t even second best. I have several men who are better than he ever thought of being. You like to hang women and children and torture them. Your turn is coming. We are going to strip you naked and hang you from your own rope. Then I’m going to beat you like a fucking piñata. I have a man so much better with a knife than you are. He’s going to slowly skin you before he guts you like a fish.”
The Comandante felt a chill go right thru him. “It is you who will die when we meet American.”
“We’ll see what happens when the devil meets the Sea Demons,” I said as I slammed the phone back down.