Trees Hold Up the Sky 23 William James Johnson

The sleek silver and blue VIP helicopter taxied into the official parking area west of the Bogota tower. The long slender blades turned slowly, before coming to a halt across the compact fuselage. Captain Pedro Cervantes turned off the switches and folded his navigation maps and put them into his vinyl carry-on. Pulling on his tunic, he paused briefly to smoothen his hair and climbed down from the aircraft. Waiting nearby was Obispo's black Mercedes, with its darkened windows. Carrying a locked metal case in one hand and his flying gear in the other, Pedro approached the rear of the limo.

"Have a good trip?" asked Obispo.

He did not respond until the limo door was closed and he was sure the sound proof partition between them and the driver was in place.

"Problems chief. Our man in Miami is getting greedy."

This was not what Obispo wanted to hear. "Like how greedy?"

"The Cuban bastard wants ten more big ones, or he's going to split."

"Ridiculous. We just stop supplying drugs and he'll be dead in the water."

"Like Enrico Garvas," said Pedro sneering sarcastically. "Don't you mean dead in a tub of runny shit?"

"Knock it off Pedro. I'm not proud of that."

"You should be. Everyone who is anyone knows about it. You got what you wanted. They're all scared shitless of the Monster of Medellin," taunted Pedro. He had been involved in Obispo's conspiracy for years, and had made a fortune for himself many times over. He was not intimidated by the General.

Chosen because of his fluent English and aristocratic family connections, Pedro was a graduate of the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Several years of living and studying in the U.S. gave him the realization that the American way of doing business was that money was power, no matter how you got it. When he had completed his tour of duty as a helicopter flight instructor at Harmon airbase in Florida, he was placed on the General's staff as his personal pilot and confidant.

At Harmon Pedro had met Ernesto Sanchez, a fugitive Cuban who was in charge of scheduling aircraft inspections. Sanchez could see that Pedro was an ambitious Latino like himself, with an uncontrollable desire to be wealthy no matter what he had to do. When the Cuban was sure he could trust his instincts about the young officer, he pointed out the fact that anti-drug aircraft from Colombia were arriving as often as two a week. As Sanchez described it, "this many planes coming regularly from Colombia, is as good as a license to print money if the right people controlled it." Pedro saw what Sanchez wanted him to see, and soon the two acted upon the opportunities of utilizing the frequent aircraft maintenance trips to Florida, as a chance to cash in on the drug trade. It was a stroke of genius when Pedro convinced Obispo this was the way to build up arms and wealth to realize his dream of becoming the ruler of Colombia.

As the limo made its way to his office, Obispo took a small key out of his wallet and opened up the metal container. A quick estimate was all the proof he needed that their Miami connection had taken his extra share before giving Pedro the case.

" Christ. He's already taken out the extra ten grand. Did you give him the coke?"

"No. That's not the way we do it. I give him a small envelope which has a diagram that helps him locate the stuff. He removes it when he is alone, and we change the hiding place on every delivery."

"Why go to so much trouble?" asked the General. "After all, these are military aircraft. Who is going to suspect the military?"

"You forget we are arriving from Colombia. The DEA guys make random checks on all incoming aircraft, military or otherwise. We have to cover our asses."

"Back to the problem of Sanchez. What do you think we should do with our Cuban partner and his sticky fingers?"

"We have no choice. We got him over a barrel because we know about that murder in Havana before he escaped. And he's got us by the balls because he could blow the whistle on us."

"And shaft himself at the same time."

"Believe me General, Ernesto Sanchez is not long for this world. He's a greedy bastard who is going to cross the Miami mob one of these days, and that will be the last we hear of him."

"How about telling those guys we want Sanchez replaced?"

"No way chief. You think we have problems now. Those Yankee drug lords don't stand by with their fingers up their ass waiting to be diddled. They would just as soon splash your brains as listen to any excuse why you have short changed them. We've got a sweet scam going. I say let's keep it going. Besides with the weapons and millions of bucks we've been able to stash, you probably could make your power move any day now."

"Not yet Pedro. When I'm ready you'll know it. The whole world will know it."

The Mercedes stopped in front of the Secretariat. "Come on in. There's something else we need to discuss."

Rosarita smiled at the handsome pilot as he threw a kiss to her. His womanizing reputation had been well established by Obispo's female staff. Not to have been bedded down by the dashing hero in the white and gold uniform, was considered a personal slight, and Pedro wasn't one to deliberately hurt anyone's feelings.

In his office Obispo pressed a hidden button under his desk and the teak paneling behind it quietly moved to the right revealing a floor-to-ceiling metal door. Standing in front of the door, he activated a small electronic transmitter similar to a TV remote, automatically opening the heavy structure. Inside, were shelves of solid gold bars from the floor to above eye level. Further into the vault, in a rear chamber, were stacks of U.S. currency. This was the first time Pedro had ever seen the immense wealth Obispo had accumulated.

"My gawd chief ! How much is enough?"

"Pretty impressive I know. But when you start buying bootleg arms from bankrupt nations, you can go through a pile like that in pretty quick time."

After stacking the neat packages of bills he had taken from the metal case, Obispo passed it to Pedro, and secured his cache. Pressing another hidden switch on a side wall, revealed a well-stocked bar. He poured two drinks and passed one to Pedro.

"You're probably wondering why I let you see the money."

"Gotta be because you trust me. Anything else, and I would have to say you're a godamn fool."

"And we both know I'm not as you say, a godamn fool. You're right Pedro. I trust you, and believe me there aren't many people I can say that to. I trust you, and I want you to take on a very serious task."

"Of course chief."

"I'm getting closer to the day of the coup. Taking control of the government is not something I can do alone. I'm going to need a loyal team. When we have won, and have consolidated our power, I want to make you the Secretary of Defense."

"Whoa. Wait a minute General. I'm only a Captain."

"And Napoleon was only a Corporal," said Obispo.

"So was Hitler."

"And so he was. So that's what I've decided for you. What do you think?"

"I'm honored General. I promise you, I won't let you down."

"Good. Now here is what I need you to do for me now. You know Professor de Quesada?"

"I do. He's a very smart man. Be a good guy to have on your team."

"Not my team. I'm talking about our team, you and me and Gonzalo, and whoever else you think should be in on this important action."

"Has Gonzalo agreed to join us?"

"I've hinted at it a few times but I haven't come right out and told him I want his commitment. In fact this is why I decided that I should let you see what the larger picture is all about. You're street smart Pedro. A survivor. I like that. If it hadn't been for you, I doubt I would have made the decision to get so involved in the drugs and arms deal. I owe you a lot, and now I need your judgment about Gonzalo."

"I get the feeling there's something about him that's troubling you."

"There. You've done it again. You see right through the problem and go to the heart of it."

"Well then, as they say in Hollywood, let's cut to the chase."

"You obviously watch too much TV. I sensed the professor was quite upset when I told him Enrico Garvas had died. And that was even without telling him the details."

"He's not the only one who was shocked. Some of the guards at the dungeon threatened to quit because of it. There was a lot of respect for the old cop. It's no surprise to me, other cops would be terrified to learn the details of his execution. And for what. Just because he told you he had evidence someone was smuggling coke on our aircraft. From what I understand, not once did he ever link you to our operation. No I can understand the professor's reaction when you told him."

"So you don't think I should be concerned about his loyalty."

"Hell no. We need someone like him to establish credibility with the power people when we take over. Gonzalo can make your coup a real class act."

"Then this is what I want you to do. I've already asked Gonzalo to go with you in my helicopter to the Atabapo Project and see for himself what is going on there. Who knows, if it is as important as he says, I don't want to jeopardize the project by moving too soon on the takeover. This is an opportunity for us, you and me, to test Gonzalo's willingness to be on our team. I want you to tell him everything, and I am counting on that keen judgment of yours to determine if we should keep him, or if I have to, detain him in Medellin like Garvas until he gets the message."

Across the city on the outskirts, waiting in the anteroom at the University of Bogota was Chester Munn, the aide to the U.S. Ambassador to Colombia, Robert Runciman. Professor de Quesada, hurried out of his office, still clutching documents, extended his hand in greeting.

"Forgive me Mr.Munn. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Come in."

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice Professor."

Surrounded by stacks of books, a scent of old leather and mould, the office seemed more like the secret treasures of an ancient library, than the domain of one of the world's leading antiquities experts.

Munn pulled a letter from his brief case and presented it to Gonzalo.

"The Ambassador received this letter from Washington, in response to your Secretary of the Interior's request to send armed troops to our scientists in Atabapo."

"I'm surprised the Secretary was so quick to act."

"Ambassador Runciman wants to know if our scientists are in any danger at the project site."

"Recently, about ten days ago as a matter of fact, the General told me there was an attack on the cave site. Three cartel soldiers, if you can call them that, were killed."

"My God! We weren't told of any fatalities."

"The General is so determined to co-operate with your country, I'm sure he didn't want to alarm you. His request for more protection is an example of how determined we are to continue with this most important work."

Chester Munn had not spoken to de Quesada before. He was impressed with the sincerity and credibility of the old academic.

"You have come at a good time," assured Gonzalo. "The General has asked me to go to the Atabapo site and see for myself what has been achieved. That will give me the chance to personally ask your Dr. Henry Newton if he thinks the security should be increased."

"When do you think you will be leaving?"

"Within a week or so. I'm waiting for Capt. Cervantes to return from his regular aircraft maintenance trip to Florida."

"The Ambassador will be delighted to hear this good news. Also we were wondering if you might have any opinions on why the cartel would attack a scientific site."

"Who knows why the cartel does anything. I suspect they may have thought they could scare us, and make us give up the project."

"But why? I've heard rumours this cave message may be one of the most important archaeological discoveries ever made. Why would they try to ruin it?"

"I think they may feel that our whole operation is a front used to penetrate their drug processing areas, and the American presence here is an extension of your war on drugs."

"Well I hate to admit it Professor, but it looks like we are loosing the war. Especially in Florida. No matter what we do, the supply increases. I just hope this madness doesn't result in your country loosing any of its citizens."

"Tell the Ambassador I will report to him as soon as I can when I get back, and thank you Mr. Munn for coming to see me personally."

Painting and writing by William James Johnson can be seen at www.noozoon.com.