Jack winced at the grinding as he shifted gears in the ancient Palio station wagon. The front end of the rusty red car swerved and the engine paused before it thudded up a gear. There was a puff of blue-grey smoke, thump and the car slid forward.
"Piece of shit. I'll be lucky if I get there." Jack growled as he squinted through the solid sheet of rain. If it wasn't for the imported gravel Jack didn't think the narrow dirt would exist more than one rainforest storm. At least the swampy air had cooled to a perfect mid-80s. Jack squinted at the cattle he drove past. The stadium lighting was dimmed by the storm. Jack didn't know if it was his imagination or the odd shadow effect of the storm but the black eyes facing him looked like those of a desperate prisoner about to die. Jack swallowed and shoved the morbid thought away.
As he turned onto the ranch's grounds, Jack began to notice a change in the type of men working. The gauchos were hardened cowboys, comfortable among the livestock; riding horses like the animals were part of their bodies. As the Fiat wobbled to the basic steel gate, Jack became aware of more and more guns, and not just pistols either; he saw newer models of IMBEL IA2s as well as full jungle warfare outfitting. The soldiers hung back in the shadows. On his last visit, Buck had taken him to the bunk house not the big house. Jack pulled to a stop in front of the large double gate. Through the waterfall spilling from the sky, Jack could see a multilevel villa built of steel and concrete that stair-stepped down the top of a steep slope. One whole level was brightly lit and appeared to be made of glass. Its yellow glow had the flickering of a candle. Even as far away as he was, Jack could see shadows of people moving around the glass room.
Out of nowhere a burly soldier strode to the Palio driver's door. Jack went to wind down the window only to find there was no handle.
"Shit." Jack growled. He raised his hand and stepped out of the car. He was soaked and dripping before he took one step. In seconds, he was whirled, slammed against the car and had a bayonet poking his spine between his kidneys, "Sorry to startle you, friend, but this hunk of junk, had no window opener." The big man let loose a growl as menacing as a Jaguar.
"Whadya want?" Direct, deadly-Jack had to respect that.
"The big guy invited me back any time, name's Dalton." The bayonet was removed. Jack slowly turned around surprised to find himself alone. He wiped rain out of his eyes but couldn't make out movement or shadow of the big man. No that wasn't creepy as hell. Jack heard a clunk then whine. The giant ornate gate shuddered into motion. Jack ducked back into the car and managed to wobble the car through the gate. It opened slowly but closed as fast as a jail cell.
Jack swallowed a pang of fear for the billionth time wishing his partner was with him. Not only was the kid his other half and useful as a SAK, but their banter would ease the tension. Jack could be braver with Mac and fearless for the kid. As Jack drove the unnecessarily long and twisty drive to the house, Jack realized that while he enjoyed the slice of Texas he'd found with Buck, Mac was his home. Not having his partner by his side, Jack felt half of him had been amputated and uncharacteristically vulnerable. Jack gritted his teeth pushing through it. He had a job to do.
Jack was impressed with Buck's security. There was no gaps, no lapse in coverage or visible distraction. These guys were ready for war. Special forces or trained by special forces. Jack was driving through a gauntlet of hard eyes, loaded guns, and itchy fingers he was both relieved and worried about their discipline.
The winding road dead-ended in front of a large out-building and a circle of guards. Jack turned off the Fiat and moving very slowly, exited the car. He was patted down and wanded by a metal detector. Jack fought not to smile. Like he and Mac hadn't found ways of fooling those long ago, if they wanted. Jack wasn't surprised when they found the Browning Hi-Power in a pancake holster inside his waistband. He glanced at the shitbox car and sighed to hide his smile. They weren't searching the car, just as Mac predicted. Jack had access to weapons. He just wished they were closer. Jack breathed out in relief when they didn't find the ten inch ceramic knife in his boot.
"Go." The shortest of the soldiers grunted. These guys weren't chatty, another sign of their discipline. Again Jack felt a mix of admiration and nervousness. Hey, it's only a well-equipped army of special forces, he could take them-just another Friday, right? Jack swallowed, reminding himself that Buck might just have such good security because of the deforestation his ranch supported. Still didn't ease his hackles.
Jack nodded and followed a stone walkway, again
unnecessarily twisty, to an arched garden full of tropical blooming plants. He walked up to a plain bent screen door and pushed the bell. He could hear a three beat chime sound in the house. Jack braced himself for anything...and was surprised. A tiny round woman opened the door with a welcoming smile.
"Come in, come in. You'll catch your death out there." Jack stepped into a small homey kitchen all in reds and white. The smell of slow cooking beef made his mouth water. The walls looked like adobe-thick concrete. Jack had to smile. Other than the room of glass, this building was a bunker.
"Hi, I'm Jack." The woman smiled.
"Yes, I know. I'm Mirabella. Through here you can freshen up. Down the hall to the left is the living room, Buck is waiting for you there. Jack nodded his thanks. Jack stepped into the biggest bathroom he'd ever seen in his life. His eyebrows rose when he saw shelves with rows of clothes labelled.
"Please, help yourself." Jack sighed. Made sense, Jack supposed. By leaving out clean clothes, and yes even boots-nice allig-crocodile boots, Buck could guarantee his fortress would stay clean. Jack managed to find black jeans and a black T-Shirt. The pants were tight, the shirt loose. Jack squatted and kicked the air. They'll do. Jack chose boots going with practical rather than pretty. He sure did like those reptile skinned ones-maybe he's "borrow" a pair on the way out.
Jack followed Marabella's directions and entered a room that made his mouth water more than the smell of food. The room was big without windows. One whole wall was taken up by an ornate wide stair case, the rest were lined with well-oiled guns of all kinds from around the world. Jack's hands itched with the need to touch, to test. Damn, Phoenix could learn a thing or two!
"Beautiful, aren't they?" Jack turned with a genuine grin. He greeted Buck with a half-bro hug.
"I feel like I done died and went to Texas heaven." Jack gushed. Buck laughed.
"After supper, maybe you'd like to try a few?"
"Hell yeah. That would just about make my year." Buck laughed again and waved Jack up the stairs. Jack looked over his shoulder feeling like a kid being dragged out of a toy store.
The stairs led up to the glass room. He couldn't see anything through the constant rain or dark night, but he bet this room had an amazing view. The room had a muted library feel to it. A square of leather couches were filled with men in suits. Buck waved to the back of the room. A large black and silver bar backed by well lit bottles of all kinds of alcohol, took up most of the room. Waiting with a bright smile, a blond women with the body of a supermodel stood waiting in a bar tenders suit.
"I'm just doing some wheelin' and dealin', let me finish up and we can eat." Jack smiled at the girl who gave back a gleaming white, if fake smile.
"Take all the time you need." Jack said with grin. Buck laughed and almost knocked the smaller man off his feet with a pat on the back. Jack forced himself to keep grinning as he mosied up to the bar.
"Hi, I'm Tabitha." The woman said. Jack wished he had a hat to tip back. He slid into one of the soft padded stool.
"Jack, how are you doing? This is an amazing house." Tabitha's smile dimmed. Jack leaned forward. Up close he could see tight wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and mouth. Her blue eyes constantly scanned the room, sensitive to every twitch of movement from the men huddled in the center of the room. Jack leaned out and put his hand on hers. She pulled hers back as if Jack was a leper.
"What would you like?"
" What kind of beer do you have?"
"What kind do you want?"
"How about a Bud, ice cold." Before he could blink she was popping the cap on one in front of him. He grinned and sighed caressing the fogged bottle. He tipped it and finished it in two gulps.
"I think I've died and come back in Texas heaven." Jack gushed. Tabitha placed another in front of Jack. It was true. If Tabitha wasn't terrified and Buck wasn't a possible suspect in a case of genocide, Jack would be having the time of his life. He leaned back and casually ran an eye over the group of men Buck was huddled with. Jack frowned. He didn't recognize any of the men, but he knew their type. Shifty criminals every one-not routine garden variety criminals but the ones that were driven in Rolls Royces and wore expensive Italian suits and loafers. The shot callers. Jack rubbed his head hating the sinking of his heart. He thought of the gun room, the soldiers, the cattle...it all fit. Gunrunners.
The gun room was a showroom of what Buck could get and ship and the cattle? Well, Jack realized the market for Zebu wasn't big enough in the markets where money can be made. If Buck had relied on only the profits from this vast ranch, there was no way he could afford to pay all of his security, let alone hire special forces and kit them out with state of the art equipment. Jack looked at Tabitha. The woman dropped her eyes and made a show of polishing the gleaming counter.
"Are you ok?" He whispered. She glanced up at him, over at Buck and his company then back down at the bar. Jack had given up on her saying anything when she spoke to him in a hurried whisper.
"You have to get out of here." Jack nodded.
"So do you." He said. Tabitha shot him a quick look of desperate home then grinned. Jack's neck hairs flinched as he heard Buck's heavy footfalls behind him. Jack turned and watched as Buck shook hands with each man.
"Tabitha, show these men out?"
"Of course, right this way." Tabitha said with a steady calm voice. Jack watched the others file out. Buck never offered to introduce him. Jack was relieved. As much as he'd been around South America, he wouldn't be surprised if one of them would recognize him. Jack turned to face Buck and every organ he had fell to his feet. Buck eyed him with a simmering anger tinged with disappointment. Jack tried to brazen it out. He lifted his beer and swallowed the last of it.
"So when is the steak up?"
"I decided to have rat tonight." Jack scoffed his eyes roving. His fingers tightened on the bottle.
"I've heard the Amazon has some big bastards, but I gotta tell ya that sounds plum unappealing and, I hate to add, a mite un-Texan." Buck smiled. It was not a nice smile.
"Indeed, Jake?" Jack whirled swinging the bottle. He caught a surprised Jake across the face. Before he could confront the cluster of soldiers fanning around him, a giant hand grabbed him by the neck and shoved his face into the shining black bar. Jack had a second to apologize to Tabitha for ruining her work before he hit it two times and fell to the floor. He had a good view of Buck's nice boots before he was kicked in the head and fell into black.