Expedition to the Unknown

Chapter 9

Juan Mendalino opened the patio doors of Senhor Valderón"s sprawling mission revival mansion and stepped out onto the stone patio. He had been pouring over details of the cartel"s expansion into the rainforest for the last twelve hours and he was tired and irritable. Drifting over to a stone knee-wall sweeping around the patio, he wondered what Valderón was thinking.

A coca plantation in the middle of the f*****g forest? Is he crazy? They"re all crazy! He drew a cigarette from behind his ear, put it to his lips, and lit up. A ring of smoke drifted up into the warm, muggy night teeming with mosquitoes. He eyed the path leading to the docks at length. At the end of them were two fifteen meter custom jet boats bobbing up and down in the water.

A coca plantation in the middle of the f*****g forest? Is he crazy? They"re all crazy!Suddenly, Valderón"s deep, gritty laugh boomed from the open windows behind him. Juan glanced back then turned and panned the prodigious forest as the sunset gave itself up to the ensuing darkness. In the distance, a colony of bats spewed out over the trees, their erratic flight peppering the fading sky.

Watching them, Juan thought of Valderón"s plan and shook his head. He knew the farmland south of Iquitos was rich, easily monitored and maintained, and that Valderón had the locals under his thumb. Except, Valderón was running things. Not for long though. Soon, he would make his move. But first he had to made sure of the loyalty of his lieutenants.

The patio door opened behind him, spewing the voice of Latin America"s famed tenor, José Cura, out into the night air. Juan turned as the barrel-chested Valderón headed toward him with a glass of bourbon in hand. “What are you doing out here? Come in. Have some food and drink.”

“I"m not hungry,” Juan muttered.

Valderón sipped his bourbon. “What is wrong? You are very moody these days. Something on your mind I should know about?”

Juan took a drag of his cigarette, hoping the evening shadows were hiding his scowl. “Just thinking, is all.”

“Good. That is why you are here with me and not standing up there with your thumb up your a*s,” Valderón said, nodding toward the sentry on the upper deck behind them. “Just don"t think too much. It could be unhealthy for you. Even though you are engaged to my Reyna, business is business. Comprende?”

Juan felt sudden heat come to his face. “Comprendo.”

Valderón was quiet a minute, then fell into an easy conversational tone, talking about classical Latin music, which he loved, and baseball, which was a close second. Juan just listened. A complex man, Valderón had risen to the top because he was ruthless, willing to do whatever it took. And those who underestimated him quickly found themselves swimming face down in the river.

At length, Valderón halted his musings on music and took a long look at Juan. Even in the gloom, Juan could feel the man"s coal-black eyes measuring him, gauging his mood. Valderón leaned in close, and in a soft, menacing tone, said, ”I know your aspirations. Do not f**k with me. You will regret it.”

Juan didn"t say anything. He knew better than to argue the point.

Valderón went on. “Yes, it is good to be hungry. Just remember not to take more than you can eat.”

Juan felt Valderón"s powerful hand on his shoulder. “Si,” Juan said, tightening his jaw.

“See you keep it that way,” Valderón said. “I don"t want to spoil my daughter"s big day after all the money I spent on it.” He drank down the rest of his bourbon and went back inside.

Owen stormed back to the boat with Thad, Jorge, and Molly on his heels. Of all the stupid, idiotic things Claire could possibly do, walking alone on the darkened streets of Iquitos was the worst, especially down to the docks. Even he respected that area. With every step he took, his anger rose. Thankfully, Manny had been on his way to see him and had run into her or who knows what could"ve happened. And why did his heart skip when he found she"d headed back alone? Sure, she was a client, but it was more than that.

He squashed the uncomfortable thought and stomped up the gangplank. Stepping on board the Lírio do Rio, he removed his hat, and surveying the stern, found her at the aft bulwark rail looking out over the water and chatting with Inacio. When the young porter saw him marching toward them, he made a hasty retreat and joined his brother Paulo across deck.

“Just what in da hell were ya doing?” Owen said.

Claire turned. “Excuse me?”

“I said; what in da hell were ya doing?”

“I"m sorry, I don"t believe I understand your question,” Claire said, her voice calm and reserved. “In fact, it"s a question I keep asking myself, too. What was I thinking when I hired you? And you know what? For the life of me, I can"t answer it. You"ve been nothing but evasive and cavalier since we left Lima.” Her gaze turned toward her team, who were looking on a few meters away, then swung back onto him. “What aren"t you telling me? I want to know the truth, and I want to know it now.”

“Say what?” Owen said, wondering how she had turned the tables on him so quickly.

Claire leaned back against the rail and crossed her arms. “There"s something coming up ahead that you"re hiding, and I want to know what it is.”

Manny! I need ta have a chat with "im. He looked up into the night, gathering his wits.

Manny! I need ta have a chat with "im.“I"m waiting, Mr. Macleod.”

Only one person could ever back him into a corner like this, and that was Monica. The memory of her ultimatum echoed in his mind, and his body stiffened. He set his gaze on Claire like a firebrand. “The only danger ahead, is if ya pull another stunt like that. You have any idea what ya could"ve walked inta?”

“Don"t go caveman on me. I can take care of myself just fine.”

Owen snorted, his hand crushing the brim of his hat. Turning to the uninvited audience, he said, “Isn"t there someplace ya all need ta be?”

There were frowns all around. Claire said, “It"s all right guys, I"m fine.”

“That right?” Owen said.

“Yes, quite,” Claire said, and shooed her entourage off.

When they were alone, Owen lowered his voice. “Tell me, what would ya have done if Manny had been a skin trader? Huh? Point that can of Mace at "em an" scare "em away?”

Claire"s defiant expression thawed.

“Yeah, I saw it your bag in Tarapoto.” He looked off over the dark waters, collected himself and continued, “Look here, da cartels pay big money for foreign women down here. American women, especially! Use "em as collateral when things get sticky … among other things. These wharf rats know that, an" where there"s one, there"s always more waiting nearby.”

Claire drew herself up. “If you"re trying to scare me, save it.”

“Just trying ta keep ya alive.”

“Right. How is it men like you always think we women are into the strong-and-silent types? Not all of us are bimbo"s, Mr. Macleod. If you think I don"t know what you"re trying to do, you"re sadly mistaken.”

“Yeah, and what might that be?”

“Deflecting my questions about what"s going on. You"re hiding something, and I want to know what it is. Does it have anything to do with the cargo below?”

Owen looked at her hard. “I"m not deflecting anything. An" if ya pull something like that again, I"ll end this tramp.”

“Is that so?” Claire said in an icy tone.

“Yeah, contract be damned, I"ll turn this whole thing around,” Owen said, meeting her gaze.

As they squared off, he saw her mind working. Finally, she said, “I wonder … how does that work with your overall plan, hmmm? Seems to me, that puts a crimp in it. You have a good night, Mr. Macleod. I"m going to bed.” She turned and walked away.

Owen remained on deck after Claire left, mulling over how to deal with her. He stood at the bulwark rail where she had left him with his hat in hand, watching the waxing moon wade through the murky clouds. As he did so, he realized Claire"s uncanny resemblance to Monica. Leave it alone, he mused shaking his head.

But it was too late. His attraction to her had already taken root. He pulled the leather cord hanging around his neck out from under his shirt. Lifting the pear-shaped stone on it to his lips, he thought of Calen. He didn"t have room in his life for a woman. He listened to the steady lapping of the water against the hull of the boat. Looking down onto its dark reflective surface, he imagined himself and Claire together. He grunted. I don"t need this shite, not now, not ever.

I don"t need this shite, not now, not ever.“Hey, Boss,” Manny said, coming up from behind. Owen slipped the stone back under his shirt and turned around. Manny had a can of beer in each hand. He handed one to Owen and pulled the tab on his own. After taking a gulp, he said, “Senhora is very feisty.”

“Yeah, an" it doesn"t help ya giving her fuel for da fire, mate,” Owen said, popping his beer tab open. He took a long pull and eyed his friend. “Ya know why she came back, right? She had mischief on her mind. Make sure ta keep my bows under wraps, okay? Our friends need "em.”

Manny nodded, “Si. But Senhora is clever. It is only a matter of time before she does something you do not want her to. Why not tell her why you are giving bows to the forest people? She will understand.”

Owen chuckled.

Manny shook his head. “Do not judge her too quickly. She has told me some things.”

“Such as?”

“Her time in Africa with the people there. She told me how she got them medicine for the sleeping sickness that overtook their village, and when famine came the following year, she bartered for food with the local militia. She cares about people. I see it in her eyes – hear it in her voice. There are many things people can hide behind their tough exteriors, but compaixão, no.”

Owen sighed. “Nah, she"s too headstrong and full of herself.”

“Hmmm … just like a certain senhor I know,” Manny said. He took a sip of his beer and yawned.

“What"s that supposed ta mean?”

Manny eyed him sidelong. “You know exactly what it means.” He bent his neck, stretching thick muscles, then cast a knowing glance at Owen. “You know, she like you.”

Owen raised a brow. “Yeah, like a praying mantis loves her mate. Don"t look at me like that. I saw ya lurking in da shadows, watching her bite my head off.”

Manny shrugged. “For one who knows so much, there is a lot that passes you by, my friend.”

“Is that so?”

“Si.”

Owen always enjoyed Manny"s "insights" about him. Not that Manny didn"t know a lot about his past; he did. It was the assumptions Manny made about him that amused him most. “Go on.”

Manny eyed him pointedly. “She talks about you, asks questions.” He put his finger up in a halting motion. “It is not what you think. She asks about who you are when you are not guiding. Why you are so distant? Trust me, this woman would not waste her time talking about you if she did not like you.”

“Really?”

“Si. She care about you.”

Owen snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“You laugh, but there is much you do not see,” Manny said. He paused then continued. “We go back a long way, no?”

“Yeah, we do,” Owen said, wondering where this was heading.

Manny paused. “You know me, I never mess around in other people"s business. But I need to tell you something … You live in the past too much.”

“You"re right, never a good idea messing in people"s business,” Owen said.

Manny ignored him. “I see how you look at her. Not like the others. She does something to you down inside,” he said, thumping his chest. He put his hand on Owen"s shoulder. “It is okay to love again. Monica walked out on you for something that was not your fault. Calen got bit by a mosquito. Malária took his life, not you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that ta Monica,” Owen snapped back.

Manny went silent for a moment then quietly said, “You still care about her. I can see it?”

“That"s where you"re wrong,” Owen retorted. But in truth, he couldn"t be sure. Part of him hated her for condemning him, part him needed her forgiveness, and another part wanted … what? He gritted his teeth and eyed Manny defiantly. “I don"t want ta talk about this. Understand?”

Manny drained his beer and looked away. “Si, but you cannot hide forever from the truth.”

“What truth, Manny?” Owen cried. “It was me who insisted on taking Calen inta da forest against her wishes. It was me who didn"t make sure he took his meds.” He crushed the can in his hand. A raindrop hit his arm. “Don"t lecture me on da truth. I live with that shite every day of my life!”

“Is that so?” Manny said, raising his voice. “I think it is guilt, and it will eat you out from the inside until you are old and alone. Is that what you want?”

Owen was dumbfounded. Manny had never raised his voice at him. More than that, Manny had trod on sacred ground. He balled his hand around the crumpled can. “What I want is another can of beer, an" for this conversation ta end,” Owen growled. A flash of lightning lit the black sky far off and another raindrop hit his face.

They stared at each other under the dim yellow halo of the ship"s running lights as the drops turned into rain. Of all the people in the world, Manny was the one person Owen could count on to respect his private life. They had been tramping together for fifteen years, bailed each other out of tight spots, attended baptisms and confirmations, graduations, and weddings. It was Manny who had stood by him after Calen died and Monica walked out. The man had never asked questions or told him how to feel or what to do. Why now?

Finally, Manny nodded. “Ok, I am finished.” He nodded toward the galley door as if nothing had happened and smiled. “I saw a bottle of rum under the sink. You interested?”

Owen blinked. Manny had always been a man who could let go of things at the drop of a hat and move on. But this was no simple matter, and he didn"t know whether to be angry or amused. He put his hat on as Manny finished the rest of his beer, and said, “I might be.”

“Good, I hate drinking alone,” Manny said. He slapped Owen on the shoulder. “Let us go inside before we become drowned rats.”