A Reluctant White Knight: Volume 2: Coyote Running

Here I am sitting in a lonely airport terminal waiting for my flight while I watch my bride of just six months winging her way in the opposite direction I’m going. My thoughts are dark but I try to find some happiness in memories of the recent past.

Foremost is that I have been so happy and fulfilled in the last six months. I know that’s one reason I feel blue. I have grown accustomed to NOT feeling this lonesomeness. But I have to take the good with the bad in life. And life has been good, very good the past six months.

Besides, we did just have a fantastic Thanksgiving with the entire ranch family. I missed not being able to have my sons join us but each had justifiable reasons for not being able to make it out to the ranch. That made it all the more important that Sunny and I are going to figure out some way to get to see each of them around Christmas.

Christmas. Now there is a dilemma. What do I get the woman that has everything? I have never been in this position before. With my late wife we squeaked by on a very tight budget and so there was always something that she had done without. Some special something that I could try to save up and get for her. But with Sunny, I am going to have a real problem making this first Christmas together special. This truly will put meaning to the old phrase It’s not the value of the gift. It’s the thought that counts. And I had better give this a lot of thought.

And Dusty, and Rusty, and Joe. Oh, boy. At least with them, Sunny can help me choose a gift that is appropriate. Or maybe if I’m lucky the adults on her side of the family have already sworn off exchanging gifts like my kids have. That would work for me. I haven’t really been into adult gift exchanges for decades. It’s the grandkids that I like to go overboard for. And then that is another whole list of problems. Sunny! Help!

Well. At least that got my mind off being away from her for a little while. But I’m still sitting in this dang airline terminal waiting for a flight I am not looking forward to taking.

I am already regretting letting the General talk me into this simple meeting. Nothing is simple with the The Company and I had promised myself that I would never work for them again. But after years of not hearing from him, the general asked me to meet him in Belize while Sunny is in D.C., just as a personal favor. No big mysterious secret mission, just a sensitive transportation issue that he needed my counsel to resolve. Or so he says.

Jim Stragg, The General as those who work for him refer to him, is Deputy Director of The Company now. He earned being called General from his years of service in the U.S. Marine Corps, but I met him back when he was a lowly station chief. The first meeting was short and functional. I flew for a short time for the Company. I followed orders and flew him and his people someplace and left them there. Simple task. The second meeting was a little more, I think the best way to describe it is, intense. For all his resources, power and experience it fell upon me, just an airplane driver, to pull his sorry tail out of a situation that would have cost the Company a lot of valuable information, a lot of good people, and the General his life.

I still don’t understand why I said yes to him. I don’t owe him anything. If anything he is indebted to me. Of course there was that third meeting. I was surprised that he is a friend of Dusty’s and Dusty’s friend, former President T Bout. Dusty still hasn’t told me how he knows the General. But I figure if I don’t at least meet with the guy as asked, I’m going to be hearing from Dusty about it. And with Sunny gone east for a week, I may as well placate the guy.

CHAPTER TWO

They finally called my flight. It’s time to go, even if I don’t want to go.

The flight from San Antonio to Houston is almost not worth the wait. But it takes less time than it would if Sunny had dropped me off at one of the Houston executive airports in her business jet and I then would have to take a taxi to the airline airport.

From Houston I connect to a flight to Belize. It’s the same carrier that took Sunny and I on our honeymoon trip. Except this flight isn’t near as enjoyable as that which I took with my new bride.

As I sit in the airliner on approach back into Belize City I know, somehow, that my memories of this return to the coastal country won’t be as fond as the ones I gained from my last trip here. I just hope it doesn’t make me not want to come back again.

It is taking forever to deplane and clear customs with all the tourists that were aboard my flight. I collect my duffle bag and head to the curb to see if anyone is waiting to collect me this time. I hate traveling without having everything planned but the general’s people told me to just wait for my ride at the baggage claim curb.

I could not be more surprised to find my same driver from the last trip waiting here with a sign with my name upon it, again. This time he is standing next to a passenger van and not a luxury sedan. He greets me and tells me to jump in. No open door. He doesn’t even take my bag this time. He just tells me to jump in.

On second thought, I guess I could be more surprised than the sight of the driver. The sight of the General sitting in the van is a complete surprise. And for some reason I don’t consider it a good surprise.

Hello Jim, I say.

Tom. Hope your flight was okay, he just responds as the driver gets in and pulls away from the curb.

Must be something important to bring you all the way down here, I say.

I’ll brief you at the house, he says and adds, and thanks for not referring to me by any titles. I’m trying to keep a low profile down here.

That’s probably a waste of time, Jim, given your position, I respond and the General just shrugs his shoulders and sits quietly looking out the window. I think to myself, there’s nothing simple about this whole deal.

It is a real blow to my fond memories that the van is pulled up to the same villa Sunny and I shared during our honeymoon trip. And stepping into the house I see the same butler and maid seated in the living room. They both say hello without getting up and it finally strikes me, the General had this place arranged during our stay because it is somehow connected to the Company. That totally blows away any pleasant thoughts of our honeymoon trip down here. I promise myself I am not going to tell Sunny about this part of my trip. And from the looks on the faces of this group present, I guess there are other parts of this trip that I won’t be free to tell her about.

It’s nearly time for Sunny to call me and I am dreading the call. We have a standing promise between us that when we are not side by side to retire for the night, whoever is in the time zone that sees ten p.m. first will place the call. She is in D.C. and I am in Belize.

She will naturally ask me where I am staying and who met me here. What am I going to tell her? I have not lied to that woman since the day I met her and I don’t want to start now. Yet if I tell her I can’t tell her for security reasons she’ll worry even more about me and what this trip has in store for me. I am not going to lie to her but I’ll try to keep her from worrying.

I excuse myself from the group in the living room and head out onto the patio to wait for my cell phone to ring. It’s only a matter of moments before it does with the little tune I have programmed into the phone as Sunny’s distinctive ringtone.

Hello sweetheart, how was your trip and your first meeting? I answer lightheartedly.

Hi sweetie. Boy, did I need to hear your voice, she responds.

Me too. Now tell me what you’ve been doing today, I quickly ask.

Sunny describes her miserable flight. The weather was lousy and she was delayed by air traffic control going into the D.C. area. She had to shoot an approach to minimums in snow showers and icing and she says she sure could have used her trusty co-pilot. I hit upon the opportunity to prolong our conversation by asking more details about her flight and the instrument approach. Was the old Citation coated with ice when she got down? Was the runway slick? Did she get a hangar for the plane? How did she get to her hotel?

I prolong the conversation long enough that it becomes natural to eventually say, Darling, the people who met me down here are waiting. I’m sorry to cut this short but they look like they’re getting impatient. You call me tomorrow night and we’ll talk more. I love you and miss you dearly. Good night, sweetheart.

Good night honey. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t be willing to talk in your sleep about, she says and hangs up first.

That’s it. She senses it. We have only been married six months and she can read my voice like a book. In one way I love that. In another it bothers me because it makes it so much more difficult to handle whatever it is I have been summoned down here to do.

I rejoin the group in the living room and the General says, Thank you for not telling Sunny where you were and who you were with. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to keep it that way. At least while we are down here.

Okay. But you need to know that when I get back home I’m not keeping any secrets from her, I tell the General with one hundred percent sincerity evident in my voice. I’ll swear her to secrecy and I think you know she can be trusted. But I love that woman far too much to keep secrets from her. When she calls tomorrow night I’ll tell her that I can’t talk about what is going on down here now, but I’ll tell her all about it when I get back.

I’ll detail what can and cannot be talked about when we are done, the General says with a smile that betrays that he is not making a comment. He is giving me an order. I have to admit that actually ticks me off. I knew better than to have agreed to this trip. I’m promising myself that from this point on I am going to listen to my gut and act upon it instead of against it.

The briefing begins.

The Company has some assets, meaning people, missing in the jungle I am told. There are other people in the area that would love to find out what our people have been doing. The interested parties were not part of the Belize government. The people in country, and in that room for that matter, are actually there with the full knowledge of the head of security for the Belize government. The people looking for our people are not there with the sanction of the Belize government.

That strikes me as funny. I have never thought that the Belize government would have an intelligence and security branch. But it makes sense. This is Central America and there has never been long-term stability in the region. There seems to always be a rebel group or some military faction that thinks they have a better idea of how to run the government of one of the small Central American countries. That’s what had gotten me involved in Panama.

Panama!Crap. This is Panama all over again!

Jim goes on to explain that my role is secret, but not dangerous or illegal. The cover story is that I was down here for my honeymoon and now I want to surprise my new bride by returning to look for investment property. Unbeknownst to me, I have emailed down here to arrange to rent a small plane.

How convenient. How many other emails have I sent that didn’t originate from my fingertips, I think while keeping my eye on the General’s expression.

Someone who ‘works for me’ came down last week and has taken possession of the rental plane and gotten permission to hang a camera on it so that I can take high quality aerial photos in order to more accurately judge the properties I might be interested in.

Typical spook stuff is my only thought.

Jim. What is this ‘camera’ and what type of an airplane is it? I ask.

It’s just a little Cessna one eighty five and the camera is an infrared imaging system. Your advance man is at the plane now, doing the final system check. You’ll meet him tomorrow morning. The General briefs me.

Do you have any charts here? Where are we looking? I ask. The General turns the rest of the briefing over to our driver.

The driver outlines for me the area of interest, when they had last heard from the people, and briefs me that their radio is now not responding. He advises me that they won’t know that we are launching a plane to search for them so they’ll stay under cover. But if I get a location for them I am to somehow try to communicate with them. I suggest a message drop like we used to use in the pipeline patrol industry. All we had was a simple small sand bag with an envelope attached and a brightly colored streamer on it so that they’d see it coming down. The driver agrees that will be a good choice and he will have what I need in the morning.

I study the charts and it shows our area of concentration is part of the worst terrain in the little country. It is not only dense jungles but mountains as well. No one is going to believe I am looking for investment property in that area but that is the Company’s problem I’m thinking. I am told that my cameraman will know what to do from then on.

The maid leads me to the master suite, the same suite Sunny and I had shared, then tells me since I am supposedly some rich guy looking for property that there is no need for an early departure. That doesn’t make me real happy since I am going to be flying in mountainous areas and typically the later in the day it gets, the hotter and rougher the air is. But it doesn’t sound like I have much choice. I decide to go with the flow for now and just turn in for the night.

But my mind just can’t quit for the night. The flight down, the Villa, this bedroom, it all reminds me of our honeymoon trip.

CHAPTER THREE

I can still remember Sunny’s excitement, and disappointment, when we arrived in Belize. For a world traveler I found it amusing that a trip to Belize was still exciting for her. She was excited to see if it was as great a place to visit, and perhaps invest, as her friends had told her. She was disappointed because the flight connection I had arranged for us brought us into the area at night. She had wanted to see the country from the air. But I had plans to accomplish that in a much more suitable manner than sitting in an airliner.

When we got off the airliner in Belize City and had cleared customs and collected our baggage we were met at baggage claim by a local gentleman holding a sign with my last name upon it. I hadn’t arranged any special transportation for us because there were regular shuttles to the coastal hotels. But there he was in a white shirt and white pants and a sign board with my, check that, our name upon it.

Hello. We are Tom and Sunny Rowter. I tell the man holding the sign.

Welcome to Belize was the man’s only response. As soon as I introduced us to him, he sprang into action ordering one of the sky caps to take command of our luggage and asked us to follow him. At curb side was a Lincoln sedan. I remember thinking to myself that it was pretty smart of this driver to have a white sedan instead of a black one in this tropical heat. Even at nine at night it was still around eighty degrees but the light breeze made the evening actually more than just bearable. It was quite pleasant.

As we slid into the back seat of the sedan our driver announced that our ride would be a mere forty-five minutes. I thought that was a little long for the coastal hotel area but he mentioned nothing about a fare and didn’t have a taxi meter on his car and so I decided that it was a perk of the hotel and not worth worrying about.

After winding through the city and out onto the coastal plain it was interesting to see how much development was in progress. There were still parts of the area that were evidently native housing in various states of repair from quite quaint to pretty run down. Typical of an area recently turned into a resort Mecca, I thought to myself. When we got to the coastal hotel area the establishments ranged from pretty crude to very luxurious. Having never been to the area myself I was taking a real gamble picking a hotel by internet and travel agent recommendations. I could only hope that the one that I picked was as good as they represented themselves on line.

The driver pulled into the entrance drive to the hotel at which our reservation was made. But he surprised me by bypassing the registration entrance and drove on down the property toward the beachfront areas. I had reserved a small suite on the first floor, beach front side. I had no idea what the General had done to change our reservations. His note indicated an upgrade. We were, however, about to find out.

At the very end of the property, farthest from the main hotel and closest to the end of the peninsula upon which the hotel rested, was a thatched roof building. At first I thought it was a beachfront restaurant but it had no bright lights or signage. Instead it had a big teak double door flanked on either side by torches lighting the entrance path.

Welcome to your villa, Mr. and Mrs. Rowter, the driver said as he stopped and opened our car door. As we exited the car the front door to the villa opened and a man and a woman came out to greet us. They introduced themselves to us and explained that they were assigned to staff the villa during our stay. They were multi-talented as they served not only as butler and maid, but cooks, and each of them were trained masseuses. They pointed out that their accommodations were on the parking lot side of the villa behind the kitchen and should not be an intrusion on our privacy. They would be staying to their quarters and the kitchen area unless we called for their assistance. Therefore we had the privacy and run of the rest of the villa and the private beach to ourselves.

The General had indeed made special arrangements for us. And I knew that the strings attached were going to be something I regret. But I decided back then to deal with that when the time came.

Now as I lay here in the same bed Sunny shared with me just six months ago I know I am paying the price for those special arrangements. Sunny and I discussed it when he first called me and she didn’t like it any more than I did. She actually called the General and made him promise her that what I was going to be doing wasn’t going to be anything dangerous. The General reiterated to her that he just wanted my help to set up a transportation system for him. That sounded peaceful enough and so here I am back in Central America and I am the transportation system.

Drifting back to memories of our honeymoon I remembered how the villa impressed us as being magnificent. We slept as late as we wanted. We swam in the private pool or the ocean. We laid upon the white sand beach and let the sun tan our bodies and bake the aches and pains away. We treated ourselves to hour long massages every afternoon before dinner. A couple of nights we called for transportation and either joined the dancing and nightlife at the hotel main building or at one of the other night spots along the coastal hotelier highway.

In the middle of that week I had our driver take us to the smaller coastal airport on the peninsula. That would be the airport we’d land at if we ever returned with Sunny’s business jet. There I had made arrangements to rent a small plane. Sunny and I flipped a coin to choose who would pilot the plane and I won. We took off just after the noon hour and flew all over the coastal nation. We stopped at a couple of small airstrips along the way to take a break and have refreshments. We swapped seats each time so that the other pilot could have their turn exploring. We flew over the mountain jungle area, and along the full length of the coast. We were careful to watch the airspace boundaries we flew in to make sure we didn’t get into another country. It is hard for us Americans to realize that some countries are no bigger than some of United State’s smallest states.

By sunset we had worn ourselves out touring and we touched down at the coastal airport we had originated from just as the sun disappeared behind the ridge line of the mountain range to the west. As I shut down the engine on the little plane Sunny wrapped her hands around my right arm, pulled me toward her, and gave me a big kiss on my cheek. She enthusiastically said, That was perfect. Much better than looking down from an airliner. Thank you.

I responded by saying, It was a perfect afternoon. I’m glad you enjoyed it. But I’m ready for a light dinner and a long soak in that hot tub. Sunny agreed and I called for our driver to come pick us up.

As we waited the short time for the driver to come get us both Sunny and I enjoyed talking to the staff of the aircraft rental company. Aviators around the world can easily strike up a conversation regarding like and dissimilar experiences. I was pleasantly surprised to find out there were a greater number of airplanes based at the airport, and a more sophisticated variety of planes than what I would have considered possible. But they were all locked away in hangars for security. They hadn’t had any security problems at their airport but as the usage had grown they had invested in lockable hangars to make sure that they didn’t have security problems. That was good information to know for the next time Sunny and I came down so that we could fly her business jet.

By the end of the week of our honeymoon both Sunny and I agreed that we were going to kill each other if we kept acting like teenage lovers. We came to a happy understanding of being able to honestly address each other’s needs. I was personally happy for the truce in our battle to see who could exhaust the other first. It was a welcome change in that part of our marriage. And of course we sealed the deal with a kiss, and that naturally led to other things.

We left the villa with fond memories and a promise that we had to come back again. I tipped our staff and driver excessively but they had really treated us like royalty and deserved all of it.

As we boarded our airliner back to Houston I told Sunny that we weren’t done with our trip yet. The next phase of our honeymoon was going to be a complete departure from the first part.

CHAPTER FOUR

I’m jarred back to reality as I awake, confused for a moment. I realize that I drifted off while remembering the last time I had been here. I am still dressed in the clothes I wore yesterday on the trip down. It is a typical Belize day with bright sunshine and light coastal winds. I step out on the master suite patio where I am greeted by a breakfast already prepared and on the table, but no one around. Since this might be a condemned man’s last meal, I just sit by myself and enjoy the meal and the vista of the surf on the sand beach. I don’t feel good about what I have to do but I just have to approach it as a harmless search and rescue mission employing the skills I have learned flying pipeline patrol and DEA drug interdiction and search missions. At least it is a daylight mission and I have someone on board to run the equipment so I can concentrate on flying.

When I finish breakfast I return to my room and shower. I decide to forgo shaving. I think if I arrive back home with a scruffy beard at least Sunny won’t think that I was having fun down here in Belize without her. At just before nine I hear a knock on my bedroom door and a stranger is there to greet me. He too hasn’t shaved but it looks like he normally doesn’t. He isn’t big, but he is muscular. He has a military bearing to him but has uncut hair and civilian clothes on. I can tell that he has a shoulder holster under his tropical shirt and I miss not having my gun with me. He introduces himself as Aaron which I think doesn’t quite fit his physique, but then again Aaron from the bible wasn’t a wimp either. He briefs me that he is ready to leave for the airport as soon as I am.

We ride out to the smaller airport where Sunny and I had rented the small plane during our previous trip. I meet the same people in the airplane rental place that I had met before and so all they have me do is sign the rental agreement. My rental plane is still locked in a hangar and although they offer to pull it out for us, Aaron tells them that he will take care of it when he has the camera ready to go.

We walk down the ramp to the hangar and Aaron unlocks the hangar door padlock with a key he takes out of his pocket. The bright, shiny, and heavy-duty lock apparently is new and I surmise that Aaron has replaced the air service’s regular lock with one that only he has the key for while the equipment is in the airplane. He opens the door just far enough to let me in and then closes the door behind us. Once inside he flips on the light switch.

Our yellow and white airplane isn’t new, but it looks to be well maintained. It is just your normal everyday Cessna from its appearance. Aaron leads me to the passenger side door and opens it. I am surprised to note that he has removed all of the passenger seats. Inside the plane right behind the sole remaining pilot’s seat is a mounted camera. It is evident that the plane had been modified sometime in the past with a belly camera port which is not uncommon for this particular model of airplane and most likely why they chose this specific plane. Aaron has gutted the interior other than the side walls and the