Reluctantly, Kara took the reins from Hail. Hail then gave her a foot up into the saddle of the small brown horse.
He then climbed upon the back of his own white horse and asked the man, “Jack, can you please tie up the boat? We’ll be back in about an hour.”
“No problem, Marshall.”
Hail tugged the reins to the left, and his horse shifted in that direction and began walking back toward the jungle trail. Without being prompted, her horse followed his horse.
“This is so cool,” Kara called out.
“I told you so,” Hail responded.
“You love saying, “I told you so,” don’t you?”
“I have to admit; it is one of my favorite phrases.”
After ten minutes of following the jungle trail, the canopy opened to a clearing. Kara heard a waterfall and tried to locate it through the area that was studded with massive banyan trees. Kara looked at the tangle of trees. She did her best to determine where one tree stopped and another began. It was an impossible task, because banyan trees dropped vines down. Those eventually became thick new trunks.
Hail brought his horse to a stop and pointed at the tree, or trees, and said, “That’s where the treehouse will be.”
Kara smiled and said, “OK, I’ll play along. What treehouse?”
“The treehouse my committee crew will build.”
Kara hesitated for a moment, and she asked, “You are talking about all the young adults on your ships?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And why would they be doing that?”
Hail smiled and said, “Because every couple of months, every one of my young crew members will be living on this island.”
“And why is that going to happen?” Kara asked.
Hail looked serious and said, “Because I’ve come to the realization that they can’t be cooped up on my ships their entire young lives. They need to get out to build stuff, grow stuff and take care of animals. They need to be in touch with
nature, and I can’t provide them that on my ships. It’s not practical, but this is practical,” Hail said, gesturing toward the beauty surrounding them.
“I want them to be part of building a massive treehouse in the banyan trees. I want them to swim in the lagoon, play in the waterfall and know what it’s like to get a sunburn.”
Kara said nothing. She was thinking about her own childhood. Her parents had taken her on trips and on a few cruises to idyllic islands, but she had never really lived the life Hail wanted for “his kids.” She had been pampered; she couldn’t recall sleeping on a bed that cost less than a small home in this part of the world. So, it was hard for her to understand the lifestyle that Hail was describing.
Hail continued, “I want them to grow their own food. I want them to hunt and fish and cook and clean and have campfires at night and sing silly campfire songs and play and just be — well, just be kids. No computers. No electricity, unless they want to build a generator that is harnessed to the waterfall.”
Kara resurfaced from her own childhood memories and told Hail, “I think that would be wonderful. I think this place is amazing.”
“I also want to build a zoo, so the kids learn about all sorts of different animals. I need something to keep them busy, and I don’t know of anything more rewarding and educational then a zoo.”
“Sounds expensive,” Kara said, “and maybe a little dangerous.”
Hail made a face and shook his head, “It’s not like I plan to have lions, tigers and bears. Just some mellow animals the kids can feed, nurture and watch them have babies.”
“Ah, the teaching of the birds and the bees using the real thing — very crafty,” Kara said.
“No, that’s what the Internet is for,” Hail joked, but Kara suspected that was the way most kids learned about sex these days.
“Speaking of the birds and the bees, I also want them to learn beekeeping and how to make their own honey. If they produce sweets, then they can eat the sweets they produce.”
Hail got off his horse and tied it to a palm tree in the shade. He then walked over and grabbed Kara by her waist and helped her slide off her pony.
“It’s hot,” Hail said. “Wanna go skinny dipping in the waterfall?”
Kara was a little shocked, but she smiled and said, “Marshall Hail, you are a naughty dirty devil. But I thought you would never ask.”
Termez, Uzbekistan
The Air Cress Antonov An-26 cargo plane taxied in from the runway and came to a stop in front of Victor Kornev. It was a medium-sized cargo plane, large enough to lift tons of cargo. It was quite old, as far as planes go, but the Russian aircraft was still dependable. Of the 1043 An-26s manufactured, Kornev had snatched up ten of the relics that had made their debut in the Paris Air Show in 1969. This stop in Termez was a scheduled weekly delivery that dropped off everything from food, mail, bicycles, tools and about anything. If an item had been ordered from anywhere else in the world, one of Victor Kornev’s planes probably delivered it to these small Uzbekistan cities. Once the goods bound for Termez were offloaded, the Antonov would be reloaded with cargo that was outgoing, and the plane would continue to the Uzbekistan cities of Samarkand, Novoi, Uchduduk, and finally, Nukus. Kornev’s company did not make a great deal of money running this route, purposely undercutting the only other airline making landings in Uzbekistan. But these regular cargo drops allowed him to conceal anything he wanted to smuggle in and out of the country. Since he had direct access to his planes, it was easy for him to hide contraband amongst the other goods.
Kornev walked over to the plane and waited patiently for the rear cargo door to lower to the ground. The pilot and loadmaster were in position, determining what was slated to be offloaded. They paid little attention to Kornev as he walked up the ramp and began browsing through the cargo. It didn’t take him long to find the two large black cases, very similar to cases that held large telescopes, securely attached to the wall of the aircraft. Kornev released the straps and grabbed each case by their metal handles. Without a word to his employees, he made his way down the ramp, heading towards his Hummer parked twenty meters away.
Kornev clicked a button on his fob, and the back hatch popped open. The Russian placed the cases in the back and pressed the button again to close the hatch. He drove toward the airport’s main gate.
From the roof of the Air Cress building, two drones sat patiently perched on three-inch tripod legs. Their solar arrays were fully extended to absorb sunlight to recharge their batteries. Today, both drones were unarmed and were in surveillance mode. Tomorrow, each drone would have attached to it a mini-gun. Both aircraft were relatively flat to avoid attracting attention. If someone were to see them sitting atop the building, they would assume they were some new type of TV satellite dish.
As Kornev left the airport, before fully retracting its solar panels, one of the drones was already airborne.
Two Years Ago
Caribbean Sea — On the Jetty Near Caracas, Venezuela
Someone was poking him with some type of a stick. But when Afua opened his eyes, he saw it was a long aluminum pole. There was a sour taste in his mouth, and he was desperately thirsty. The Nigerian tried to swallow but discovered he could not. His tongue felt like a dry piece of cow liver had been stuffed sideways into his mouth. His vision was blurry, and the sun was shining directly down on him; both made it difficult to see who was poking him with the pole.
In Spanish, a voice yelled at him to wake up.
There was a sucking sound, as Afua lifted his sweaty head from the vinyl couch in the back of the boat. His mind was so foggy he couldn’t even remember his location.