Chapter 141

On Saturday morning we went to a big box grocery store in Dobson. There we bought more peppermint oil and even some hot pepper oil. There was just enough of the later to test some of the original gallon of shine. We also purchased three cases, of twelve ounce bottles of fruit punch. We bought six cases of of eight ounce bottles of water.

We planned to do the mixing and repackaging of just one case of punch. It figured to use as many of the eight ounce water bottle as we needed. Then there was the shine to consider. I planned to work the math out in the storage box lab on Monday morning. Since the shine was there, it wouldn't matter that I didn't know exactly how much I would need.

The plan was not to work at all on Sunday. All those plans came to a sudden halt after my bike ride early in the morning. Sure I noticed the strange car parked in front of my landlady's house when I returned, but it didn't appear sinister or anything. It was out of place a little, but the car was empty. It was not a surveillance car or an ambush car, so it registered, but didn't appear to be a threat. It wasn't a threat in the conventional sense.

I have to admit that he was really good. I parked the two wheeler and covered it before I sensed something was wrong in the apartment where I lived. It was a small thing, but there was a small bit of dirt on the bottom step from a shoe. I had come from a nice clean apartment to ride the bike. There should not be any dirt on the step at this time of the morning. I never doubt myself, so I took it seriously. I climbed the stairs carefully only after I removed the, 38 from the holster hanging under my two sizes too large sweatshirt. It was cool in the mountains so early in the morning. so the sweat shirt with the cut off sleeves didn't appear out of place.

I knew that I was going to be a sitting duck, if it was a pro. How many pros would there be in County Seat? I asked myself. Most likely it was a moonshiner, who had come to try to convince me there wasn't room for both of us in the business. There was likely to be bloodshed, if that was the case. My guess was that I had a 50/50 chance, that it wouldn't be my blood.

I opened the door quietly just in case he hadn't heard me coming, which was very unlikely. The man was in jeans and a desert camo tee shirt. He didn't appear to be armed at all.

"Sylvia Porter I presume," he said.

"Yes, are you the Benny the burglar?" I asked.

"It's as good a name as any," he said. Probably Bob the Briefer would be better though. I bear a message from the Swamp."

"Oh and what would that be?" I asked.

"We have a contract to rescue a child," he said. "The Colonel thought you might want in on it."

"How could you spare time to come here and try to recruit me, if it's a rescue. I always thought a rescue was a situation that was time sensitive," I commented.

"We have time but not all the time in the world. The person to be rescued is a seven year old girl She was kidnapped by her drug dealing dad," He said. "You do know most kidnapping are by the non custodial parent."

"Yeah, I do know that. Did he remarry, and decide he wanted the child to make his family complete?" I asked.

"Nothing so noble, he kidnapped his daughter to be sure his wife wouldn't testify in a probe the DEA is organizing. It could also be he wants her with him, but I doubt it. It is confirmed the he has been responsible for hundreds of deaths. Including his own brother."

"So what's the big plan?" I asked.

"Oh it's very elegant. We go to Mexico, where he has his base of operations. Then you and I go in and get her," he said.

"I guess what his staff lacks in training, they make up for in numbers," I said.

"Probably a hundred hangers on. Some will be good some awful and everywhere in between. The all have on thing in common though. They will all be armed," he said.

"I would expect no less from a drug lord." I said. "So how do we get in and out of the country."

"The same way they get the drugs in and out of the country these days. We slip into Mexico on a boat. The boat waits for us and takes us home."

"Why isn't the government doing this?" I asked.

"They are leaking information like a sieve, besides they don't have our unaccountability." He said.

"You have the tools?" I asked.

"They will be waiting for us with the boat in the Florida keys," He said.

"How long will I be gone?" I asked.

"You should be home in time for church next Sunday at the latest," he said.

"And the pay?" I asked.

"Twenty grand each and all we can steal," He said with a laugh. "Of course we don't get paid, if we fail."

"My guess is we won't care about that," I said.

"That's what I figure," he said.

"You are going to have to change your name to Karl the killer," I said.

"You can call me anything you like," he said.

"There is a lot of that at the Swamp Thing headquarters," I said.

"Well I am, who I am," he said.

"Sorry Karl, you are not God," I said.

"Wait till this is over before you judge," he said. At just before noon we took off in a very small plane from the local grass runway. We light heartedly called it County Seat International Airport. It might have been the last grass strop airport in the country, though I doubted it.

When we were in the air I said, "One good thing is, if we fail he probably won't kill the child."