“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.