DeeAnn watched as the other three men’s shadows passed her window and joined both Caesare and their driver. Together, the five climbed a short set of wooden steps. Pushing open a door to a scarcely lit room, they all disappeared inside.
The metal door banged shut behind them as the men examined what appeared to be more a living room than an office. In fact, even calling it a living room was a stretch. The only two furniture items of note consisted of a ratty leather couch in the middle and a large, dark wood table with nonmatching chairs nearby.
Along the right wall, miscellaneous crates and empty boxes were stacked neatly against the hut’s metal frame which rose above them, echoing the fading raindrops outside. Underfoot, wooden planks squeaked almost as loudly as the door when the men moved forward. They stopped again when another man in his late fifties appeared from the far end. He was dressed in faded blue coveralls and a wide brimmed hat, dripping from both sides.
“Buenos dias, Ricardo.” The stranger stepped forward into the light, revealing red cheeks and a thin graying beard. He motioned to the ceiling and the sound of rain picking back up. “What are you doing out in this?”
The driver, Ricardo, waved. “Buenos dias, Joe. I have some Americans come to see you.”
From under his brim, Joe peered curiously at Caesare and the other men. “You don’t say. And what might you boys want?”
“A little help,” Caesare replied. He then cocked his head slightly. “Your accent sounds an awful lot like a Texan.”
“Oklahoma,” the man corrected, stepping closer. “Been an ex-pat almost as long as I spent there though. What kind of help you and your giant friend looking for?”
Corso gave Caesare a sidelong glance but remained silent.
“We’re hoping for a ride.”
“A ride?” He closed one eye, suspiciously. “You boys in trouble?”
Caesare grinned. “Not yet.”
He noticed the tattoo on Tiewater’s forearm. “You military?”
“Not as far as you know.”
“Then what are ya?”
“How about environmentalists?”
Joe chuckled. “Well, they sure are growing you big these days. Okay, I’ll bite. What’s a bunch of environmentalists need a ride for on a night like this?”
“Surveying mostly. We’re having trouble finding a ride in from the north.”
“That’s what I hear. That must be some damn important surveying.”
Caesare slid a backpack off his shoulder and approached the table. He unzipped a large pocket and pulled out five stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills. “You could say that.”
Joe studied the bills and slowly shook his head. “I ain’t going to jail for anybody. Jail in South America is a hell of a lot different than the States. It doesn’t take shipping much of anything illegal to spend the rest of your life in a place I don’t wanna be in.”
“That makes five of us. We just want a ride, Joe, and quickly. You’re the closest and can get us the farthest.”
He eyed the money again, uneasy. Men dropping money like that usually had a heap of trouble not far behind them. “What makes you think that plane outside even flies?”
“Because it would be awfully hard to make your secret drops over the border without one. Food and medical supplies don’t fly themselves under the radar.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Caesare grinned again and stepped forward in his dripping wet boots. “Humanitarian missions can be a sensitive topic. Especially in countries like Venezuela who don’t like to admit they have serious problems, even when their governments are crumbling around them. They’d rather let thousands of their citizens starve than appear weak and admit they need help.
“And the aid they do receive is always highly visible. With things like documentation, customs inspections, and import clearances. Bureaucracy that slows things down and gets a lot of things lost in the process. Am I right?”
“How would I know?”
“Not surprisingly, some organizations take the most expedient route and simply drop supplies themselves. Usually at dusk and in areas that aren’t well monitored.”
The older man folded his arms, remaining quiet.
“Joe, our goals here aren’t all that different. If you don’t out us, we won’t out you.”
“That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”
Caesare shook his head. “I’ve never been much for coercion. Just consider it another drop. Prepaid. And a way to help a whole lot more people.”
“Yeah? How many more?”
“More than you can count.”
Joe nodded, then held up his hands. “All right. Don’t tell me any more. I reckon the less I know, the better.”
Tiewater smiled. “You and us both.”
“Well, we can’t go anywhere until this storm eases up. A few hours at the very least. And I don’t know where you’re headed, but there ain’t many places to land if you’re going east. So I don’t know how far you’re gonna get.”
Caesare opened his mouth to speak when they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening again. They turned to see DeeAnn step inside from out of the rain, holding Dulce in her arms.
Joe’s eyes opened wide with surprise at the sight of the gorilla.
“Something tells me this is one of the things I probably shouldn’t know.”
It was dawn before the storm began to abate and move north again. Caesare’s team finished packing the plane while DeeAnn and Juan stood near a wall of the forested jungle, waiting and watching Dulce sniff and nibble on various plant leaves. They had enough food for her on the plane to last several days, but it was an opportunity for Dulce to acclimate her diet if possible.
This good.
DeeAnn examined the tree and compared it to a small book that covered many of the indigenous species of the area.
“Is that one okay?” Juan asked.
“She certainly seems to think so.” DeeAnn picked one of the leaves and held it next to the book. “Ipomoea something. Says it’s a variant of a sweet potato.”
Juan frowned. “Are you supposed to eat the leaves?”
“They’re edible.” She took a bite. “Tastes a little like sweetened spinach. Here.”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
DeeAnn laughed and caught Juan peering at the airplane over a hundred yards away. Joe was beneath it, running his checks.
“You okay?”
“I guess so. I’m just worried.”
“About what?”
“Everything.” Juan struggled to understand what it was exactly that was bothering him. Maybe he was overly sensitive after their last trip. Maybe he was too exhausted to think clearly. Or maybe he was thinking clearly and his last trip had awakened a new level of paranoia in him, or perhaps common sense.
The two were interrupted by Dulce. Without warning, she sprang to her feet and ran between them toward an approaching Steve Caesare. He caught the gorilla in mid-leap and raised her up onto his shoulder.
“Everybody ready?”
“I think so. We were just doing a little foraging. In case we run out of food.”
“Good idea. How about you, Juan?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
DeeAnn reached for Dulce. “We need another potty break. There’s no toilet on that plane.”
She lowered Dulce to the ground and headed back toward the hut. The structure was now clearly visible in the morning light, and completely covered in rust.
As he watched them leave, Caesare turned to Juan. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Look, I know this isn’t easy. But I do appreciate you coming with us.”
“I guess I figured it would be better to volunteer before I was forced to come. That is what was going to happen, right?”