The Independents (17 page)

Estebo
n had anticipated this reaction.
“First of all
,
Senor Bishop, there is no need to take all of the gold. Do you really believe the bank robbers told the truth about how much gold they had in their possession?
The ransom note
I received did not demand an actual amount. Secondly, no one said you would be going alone. I am going to send my best man with you. He is a very skilled individual such as you, Senor. And finally, there
is no need to travel through El Paso. The church
selected
for the meeting is on the outskirts of the city. You would pass through very little
of
Juarez
.”

Bishop considered the options. “
Why don’t I just trade
you all of the gold for the girl?
You an
d your men can take whatever amount
you want to Juarez. It sounds like you have good people. Why do you need me?”

Estebon replied, “I have considered this option. I know that we are being watched, perhaps there is even an informant among us. I believe
we run the risk of being
ambushed within an hour of leaving the park with the gold. Secondly, my men are brave, but they are urban fighters, not experienced in the field or with military backgrounds. There is one exception, the man I spoke of before. You see
,
Senor Bishop, not
only
is he
a former c
aptain in the Columbian Special Forces, he’s
also
my brother-in-law. It is h
is sister and only niece
that
are being held.”

Bishop hesitated, not knowing what to do. He didn’t want anything to do with this, but he couldn’t let Estebon kill
the Colonel
’s granddaughter
either. The gold stored in the
Bat Cave
had become the
proverbial
“
hot potato
,” and Bishop wanted it out of his life.
What has this world come to when I can
’t
even give away 300 pounds of pure gold? 
On the other hand, there was Terri and the baby. If he walked away right this moment, where would this all end? The plan to spread the news about the treasure being taken out of
Meraton
had worked – too well.
Every desperado and thug within 150 miles would come looking for “Bishop’s Gold.” He recalled the legends of
the
“
Lost Dutchman’s Mine
”
and several others.
Many treasure hunters had spent their whole lives
looking fo
r
those rumored rich
es. Why sh
ould this pile of metal be any different?

Estebon had
,
again
,
anticipated Bishop’s dilemma
.
“Senor, why don’t you go home and think it over. The sun is rising on a new day. Meet me here in two days at the same t
ime, and I will bring the good captain along with me. The two of you
can sit quietly and talk. His English is excellent. Perhaps that will assist
you in making your decision.
As an act of good faith,
my men
and I
are going to face the south and enjoy a good cigar.
When we are finished, I plan to walk back to our car and return
to the park. The girl in my care will be unharmed until 11 days from now. Is this agreeable
,
Senor?”

“Yes, I
’ll
see you in two days at this spot, at this time. If I’m not here, the answer is no. If I am here, it only means I am considering it, or have decided to kill you and whoever you bring in order to better my odds.”

Estebon
nodded
toward Bishop
as
his men turned their backs
to
the Hummer
.
T
rue to his word
, each man pulled out a cigar and began smoking.

Bishop watched them for a few moments and then disappeared into the pre-dawn desert
, or so it seemed to the three men enjoying their tobacco
.

As the Hummer sped south toward Big Bend, Bishop was hanging on
for dear life underneath the oversized
SU
V’s gas tank. He had considered regrouping at the ranch, but decided against that.
He nee
ded more information and elected to hitch a ride. He
rolled underneath the back of
the vehicle and quickly
used a
ca
rabineer
hook to secure his load vest straps to the tow hitch and tucked his feet in
the leaf springs. His pack barely cleared
the surface of the road
,
and he knew it would drag if the driver hit any potholes along the way. Bishop
also
understood
if he fell while trav
eling at full speed, those potholes would be the least of his worries
.

As they sped south, Estebon was very
content
with his plan. This Bishop character was brave, and no doubt was experienced, but he was
n’t any
different than the dozens of such men he had
manipulated throughout
his life.
The boss turn
ed to the passenger in the back
se
at and questioned.
“So, brother-in-law, what d
o
you think of your future comrade in arms?”

The m
an in the back was very serious.
“I was unimpressed. I’ll tell you Estebon,
we don’t need this man. I could command a handful
of
our men to make
the exchange and retrieve my sister. I have worked with these American types for years. Their ego and macho attitude will be trouble. They believe themselves invincible.”
  

Estebon pondered the captain’s words for a moment.
“I think this man is more ti
mid that you give him credit
. Perhaps he is cautious
because of these times in which we live
, or maybe he has had recent
experiences that have reduced
his ego. I think he will do exactly as we ask and increase the odds of our family being returned to us. We have already lost so many men, why risk sacrificing more? My friend, trust me on this – it is all about the odds. The numbers do not lie.”

“I will do as you ask Estebon, but I still remain skeptical. Bringing in this stranger, this unknown…I
just
don’t like working with unknowns.”

Bishop was starting to cramp and realized the heat from the exhaust was
becoming a problem. He also was worried
that
the suspension
would flex
and
crush
his
ankles
.
This was a bad idea.
Why
do I get myself into these situations?

A few minutes later, the speed of the Hummer decreased substantially, and
Bishop felt the angle of the SUV start to change
as it began to climb the mountain
.

Bisho
p knew Big Bend well. With the p
ark being one of the few attractions in the area, he had s
pent more than his fair share of
his teenage years hiking and camping at the facility. When he had bee
n in high s
chool, he had earned a chance at a summ
er internship sponsored by the park r
angers.

The hairpin turns of the switchbac
ks demanded the driver slow the vehicle’s speed
to less than five mph. Bishop counted the turns and knew that everyone in the passenger compartment would be focused on
the road due to the steep drops and remarkable vistas. It was now
daylight
,
and Bishop had to get out from underneath the Hummer before there were lots of eyes watching the boss return.

Bishop reached up and unhooked the steel clamp that held him to the frame. He counted, waited
,
and
then pulled his legs out from between the leaf spring
s
and let the heel of his boot
drag on the pavement. He waited
until the driver was coming out of a very tight turn and let
loose.

Even at such slow speeds,
the force that took control of his body was shocking.
He tumbled
o
ver and over on the asphalt surface,
every
rotation causing his back to flex over his pack.
His arms, covering his hea
d as much as possible
,
were
scrap
ed,
cut,
and no doubt bruised. As he rolled, his rifle took a beating and its stock jabbed
into
his body armor. 

Bishop had intended to scramble to the side of the road immediately after
releasing his grip on the underside of the
car
. The
impact
to his body left him lying
in the road, trying to catch his breath
,
and mak
ing
sure nothing critical was broken.

After a few moments, he finally made
it
to his knees and quickly checked that none of his gear had been knocked off during his tumble.
N
ow
I
know what it
’s
like to be a pair of sneakers
in
a
dryer.
On
ly his hat was lying on the asphalt surface
a few feet back.

Bi
shop limped off of the road and vanished
into the surrounding forest.

The Hummer pulled into the circular drive in front of the lodge. All three men quickly exited and
proceeded immediately
inside. The driver, always hungry
,
headed directly
to the
kitchen to see if he could rustle up some breakfast.

Estebon checked in
with
the guard to verify all was well with his hostage. After being told the teenager had slept through the night undisturbed, he wanted to shower and get some sleep. His mind was too exhausted to think through the next phase of his plan without some rest. As he entered his empty room, he was reminded of how much he missed
his family
. After a quick shower, he fell into a fitful sleep, his mind still engaged in the uncertainty of the condition of his wife
Carmen and their daughter, Isabella.
 

Bishop cautiously made his way toward the main lodge. From his elevated perch, he had watched the Hummer navigate through the valley below and eventually heard its motor shut off. The lodge was somewhat isolated from the other buildings at the park, so he was pretty sure that is where his adversary had stopped.

This slope on
Emory Mountain was steep and
treacherous. Bis
hop had to be very careful
not to fall
from
the 50 to 100 foot drops. He slowly mad
e his way to a location that
afforded him
a
bird’s
eye
view o
f the lodge and surrounding terrain
.
Sure enough, the Hummer was parked out front
in the semi-circular
driveway
.
He identified
a
strategic spot
to hide and observe
the vigilantes
and settled in to wait for nightfall.

Terri was worried sick about Bishop. While he had warned her there was no
way of knowing when the hoods
would show up to talk, she still couldn’t help but be concerned.
He’s a big boy and very capable;
he’ll be okay.

The Colonel
’s breathing was more labored,
and she knew they had to get him to a
doctor. She didn’t buy into this macho thing about it being predetermined the i
njured man was going to die.
Bishop
and she
had agreed that if he were
n’t back by a
couple of hours after dawn,
David
and she
should load
the Colonel
into the truck and head to
Meraton
.

While
David was busy cleaning the breakfast dishes and checking on Grandpa, Terri went to the back side of the camper where the pickup truck was undern
eath a camouflage net. The once-
beautifu
l truck was covered with
months of
dust and road grime collected during
their trip from Houston. While the spring provided plenty of water, Bishop had decided
not to wash the vehicle, giving the truck
“its own Ghillie suit.”

As Terri pulled away the netting, she remembered how proud Bishop had been the day he had ta
ken delivery of the new pickup. It had been a difficult decision for them as the economy had be
en so weak, and the young couple
had
barely qualified for a mortgage
. A new car was a luxury few people could afford. 
But one morning, when Bishop’s old truck wouldn’t start, he
had been reprimanded by HBR and informed in no uncertain terms that promptness was essential to keep his job. That
threat
had
frightened
them both, so squeezing a new truck
into their budget
was the decided course of action.

Terri shook her head
, marveling
at the difference between that once
shiny, wonderful smelling, factory
-
fresh vehicle and the machine
before her. A small
scrap
of duct tape could be seen sticking out from under the hood
, a
n emergency patch for when a bullet had punctured a radiator hose. There was a crease and small hole in the
fender
where the
bullet
had entered the engine compartment.
The front bumper was scratched and sligh
tly dented where she had used the truck as a battering ram, pushing
in a door.
There was another small hole in the backseat passenger window where a
second
bullet had almost killed her husband. When she opened the door, the slight odor of blood
could still be detected.
Bishop
and she
had scrubbed the interior several times trying to remove the
smell, a remnant of when
he
had
almost
bled
to death in the back
seat.

David scrutinized the truck.
“We are going to try and make it to the town in
this
?”

Terri snorted.
“This old beast has carried Bishop and me through hell. Don’t judge a book by its cover
, young man.” She got behind the wheel, inserted
the key in the ignition
,
an
d the motor started immediately -
purring like a well-oiled machine.

Terri turned back to David and explained
, “This truck is our lifeline. Bishop takes very good care of it.
It’s
the only transportation we have and, well, you never know when we might have to bug out again or rush to
Meraton
for help. Walk around and check that all the tires are full, would ya?”

David nod
ded and proceeded to circle
the truck, kicking each tire.
Terri didn’t have the heart to tell him that wouldn’t do any good, but at least his mind was off of his grandpa for a bit. She couldn’t help herself and reached for the buttons that controlled the radio. She tried the AM band, hitting the seek button and letting the device search for a station. Only static came out of the speakers as the blue numerals cycled through their range two times, never finding a broadcast. She tried the FM band and then all of the satellite channels. The radio detected nothing but empty
airwaves
and static. Sighing, she hit the power button and turned it off.
Well, it was worth a try.

As
David and
she
walked back towa
rd the
Bat Cave
, she wondered why she had felt
so compelled
to check for signs
of l
ife on the radio waves.
Bishop
and she
were doing pretty well considering the circumstances – probably better than most.
So why did she feel the need to look for signs of civilization so suddenly?
Bishop started the engine
of the truck regularly to keep the battery charged. She had had dozens of opportunities to spin that radio dial before and yet never had.
That’s when Terri realized
the Colonel
’s tale of his own escape from
Houston had gotten to her
more than she wanted to admit.
Just come back to me Bishop. Everything will be okay if you just come back.