He then signed onto the airport Wi-Fi, as he muttered, “Alright—finally get to check my e-mail.”
As Raina nibbled on some chicken tenders, he then worked his way to his message board for Onyx. And it was just a moment later that Mason declared, “Alright—I’ve got one from Luke!”
Raina scooting closer to him, peered over his shoulder at the screen as she asked, “What did he say?”
Mason reading the screen, summarized, “He says the mission in South America is complete.”
Raina pausing her piece of chicken in mid dunk, questioned, “Complete? Really?”
Mason nodded, “Yeah, he says that since we broke up the main cell, the whole system of drug lords over there fell apart. The others have already been hunted down—either killed or arrested by drug task force agents. It’s over.”
Mason knew full well that new drug lords would pop up again like weeds even after their contemporaries had been mowed down. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to contradict his marching orders, he quietly acknowledged, “It’s over—at least for now.”
Mason then went on to read the end of the message and couldn’t help but sarcastically mock Luke Simon’s words, as he relayed, “And he says that we did a really good job!”
Raina laughed at Mason’s mockery, chuckling, “Oh really? Do we get a gold star for the day?”
Mason laughed, “No probably not—more than likely when Marshal Oliver hears about it all, we’ll probably get a kick in the pants instead.”
Prompting Raina to ask, “Really, how so?”
Mason nodded, “Yeah, Marshal is always on my case about causing too much collateral damage and rough treatment of civilians.”
Raina muttered, “Nelson… Do you really think?”
Mason snorted, “That jerk… Even though we’re the ones that rescued him I wouldn’t be surprised that we find a civil lawsuit waiting for us as soon as we get back to the states.”
Raina didn’t think so and told him as much, “No—I highly doubt it. Besides he knows that he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on.”
Mason knew she was right, someone like Nelson probably had too many shady dealings himself, and would be afraid to open up this particular can of worms even if he wanted to. The thought of worms made Mason think of the maggots that—last time he checked, were infesting the guy’s bullet riddled leg.
Mason coolly remarked, “I don’t even know how he would get that maggot infested leg past customs anyway.”
Raina swallowing her last bite of chicken as if it hurt, blanched, “Mason—I’m trying to eat here.”
Mason chuckled, “Sorry.”
Raina seeing a prime opportunity to change the subject then asked, “What else did Luke have to say?”
Mason read further down the message and reported back, “Oh—he says that he really misses being out in the field.”
Mason thought for a second before adding, “I guess all that time in the office is really beginning to grate on his nerves.”
Raina wadding up the remnants of her meal into a paper wrapper and tossing it into the nearby trash can offered, “Ahh—I miss working with him in the field.”
Mason acknowledged, “Yeah—I miss working with him too.”
Letting this wistful sentiment just hang in the air, Mason Walker exited his e-mail, quickly shutdown his laptop and shoved it into his briefcase, before impulsively announcing, “Alright let’s get the hell out of here.”
9
The Long Arm of Amigos dos Amigos
MEANWHILE IN LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. AT LAX AIRPORT.
As his plane arrived on the runway for a landing, Brian Nelson was starring out the window watching the pavement fly by underneath his feet. He had successfully landed back on his home turf. His life had taken so many twists and turns in recent months he never knew if he would ever see this moment again.
He was home. But since becoming estranged from his family, there would be no one to even meet him at the airport. He wasn’t even sure if his folks knew that he was missing, let alone to come pick him up. Just like Clara Walker, Nelson happened to be a Stanford student. And currently the only people he knew he could depend on were a few of his fellow peers at the university—including a young man Clara had just become acquainted with, by the name of Travis Jones.
He had of course lost contact with Travis since his troubles in Brazil had begun but Travis had told him just to call him up when he arrived and he would rush on over. Having a good friend that would drop everything to come be at your side meant a lot—and Travis was about the only person Brian Nelson knew he could count on. But Nelson was in pretty deep—deeper than he could admit even to a close friend.
As it turns out, Mason’s suspicions about him were correct. He was no mere innocent victim. In reality he was a junior partner of the drug lords—a junior partner who had been double crossed. He was helping them to smuggle cocaine from Rio De Janeiro, Brazil, back to the United States. For lack of a better word he was a drug mule, a kind of human-made pack animal, hauling drugs from overseas for profit.
But those days were behind him now. He had run afoul of his own South American benefactors, was subsequently betrayed by his handlers, and ultimately taken hostage. Apparently, his old associates had decided that he was more valuable for ransom than he was as a drug runner. They would be sadly disappointed however, since no one in Nelson’s estranged family would have paid a dime to gain his release, even if it came to that.
But the folks with Amigos dos Amigos didn’t even get that far in the process before Mason and his crew waylaid them. Nelson was then left to explain how it was that he ended up in their
