Searching for Drugs and Treasure by G. Alan Brooks (Ebook)

Prologue

During the Ice Age – 16,500 years before the present time.

Alin was not a big man and the spear he carried was twice as long as he was tall. He was amazed when he encountered the biggest animal he had ever seen, and he immediately assumed his hunting god had sent the red-coated giant to help feed his family.

Look at the gift from our hunting god, Tengri. Our prayers have been answered, Alin said to the group as he held his female mate closely.

A gigantic woolly mammoth was standing next to a small stream grazing on green plants that were just barely poking through the recently fallen snow. He looked up when he saw a small, strange creature moving toward him, but the big animal was not afraid of the first human he had ever seen.

Yes, now you hunters must kill the giant to feed our starving group, she responded, as she and the other four women started their ritualistic dance asking the spirits for a successful hunt.

These early migrants practiced Siberian shamanism which was a form of animism, and they believed they needed to enter trance-like states to communicate directly with their spirit gods. Tengri was the god of hunting and sometimes considered the god of war as well.

Alin and his small group had walked for over twelve months crossing the frozen Bering Land Bridge that connected Siberia to North America and they were hungry.

There were only ten travelers in their group, and they were hunter-gatherers from Siberia who were unknowingly moving onto the North American continent. There were four men and six women.

They would never know that they were the first people in the world to touch this continent. It would take thousands of years for these ten Siberians and their fellow countrymen who would follow, to populate North, Central, and South America.

In fact, it was 14,000 years later when the Mayan people first began to develop their sophisticated culture in this hemisphere in Mesoamerica. There would be an unimaginably prolonged period before the western hemisphere would develop major cities and create the civilizations, we now take for granted.

These primitive travelers dressed in caribou and bear skins that kept them warm in the freezing cold. They were wearing the same skins they had obtained in Siberia before their journey. They had seen bison, muskoxen, rabbits, brown bears, and wolves on their journey but no mammoths until now. They had been following the annual animal migration across the ice bridge without any expected destination.

They had no domesticated animals to help them hunt, nor to use for food. To sustain their families, they were completely dependent upon hunting wild game and foraging for edible plants. The women were responsible for gathering the vegetation that would supplement the meat from hunting or in many cases to provide the only food to support their nomadic lives. The men had not made an animal kill for several weeks, and then it was only a pair of snow rabbits. The travelers were ravenous for some meat.

Bamba and Aman bring your spears to help me. Let’s show Tengri that we appreciate this offering for us to eat, said Alin as he carefully approached the mammoth that did not move as the humans drew near.

We are ready to use our spears, responded Bamba, the best hunter in the group.

The woolly mammoth stood around 12 feet tall and weighed as much as 8 tons. It was covered in a shaggy fur coat with several layers that were a dull red color. The outer fur was made of long thick hair and the undercoat was shorter and softer, but it was about one inch thick.

It would take a lot of pressure from a hunter’s spear, in close contact with the animal, to kill such a beast without the hunter being killed when the mammoth reacted from the pain. Their primitive spears were tipped with a large stone point that had sharp edges. It was almost a third of an inch thick, several inches wide and about four inches long.

Enormous quantities of these spear points would later be found in Clovis, New Mexico in 1929, almost 16,000 years later. They are now called Clovis points and show the early presence of these people in North America.

The mammoth also had huge tusks that were 12 feet long and weighed over 200 pounds. With one swipe of the huge head, a contact between the tusk and a human would mean instant death.

I think we should walk under his belly and try to push all three spears toward his heart. As soon as we penetrate his body we must run for our lives. I do not think we will kill him instantly, but he will die in a few days, and we will wait, said Bamba, who had killed many smaller animals.

The innocent mammoth did not stop eating as the three men approached and walked under him.

But the instant he felt the spears, he made an enormous roar and spun his head around to hit the intruders with his large tusks. The men were nimble, but they were also lucky that he spun in the opposite direction from where they were running. The mammoth did not chase the hunters, but he sat down and shook his head as the pain became intense around his heart where one of the spears had surprisingly entered far enough to be fatal.

The travelers were surprised at their success and there was yelling and much joy as the mammoth died quickly without any member of the group being injured.

First, the men removed the heart, and while still warm and pumping slightly, it was eaten raw, by all members of the group to thank Tengri for the gift of food and the mammoth for his sacrifice. Next, the men skinned a part of the back rump of the massive animal and prepared a fire to fully feed the three families traveling in their small group.

After the biggest meal they had enjoyed since leaving Siberia, they were debating what to do with the rest of the animal meat. There was snow and ice everywhere and the meat would quickly freeze. It would take a lot of work over many days to skin and harvest the abundant red meat, but they were not concerned about spoilage.

I think we should stay here for as long as it takes to collect as much meat from the animal as we need. The gods have been kind, and we should take our time and eat a lot to regain our strength. Then we will jointly carry this gift from Tengri and resume our journey. If we all work together, we can share this gift, said Alin, the leader of the group.

I don’t agree. I want to provide only for myself and my two women. I do not intend to share anymore. I do most of the hard work. I am always the first one to risk my life to provide meat for everyone. I am tired of working so hard for all of you. From now on, if you want something, you need to work for it and not depend on me to get it for you, said Bamba to the other travelers.

Bamba, that is not the way we have survived so far. We all work together to get what we need to survive. I am the leader, and it is my order that we will continue to work together for the survival of us all, stated Alin emphatically.

The heated argument continued for several hours. Bamba walked away for a while in anger. He was the strongest man in the group and did more than anyone to support the needs of everyone, yet he was not recognized as the leader. He felt it was not fair.

After a short while Bamba returned with one of his spears, and to everyone’s surprise, he suddenly pushed the spear he had used to kill the mammoth through Alin’s heart. Alin died instantly.

I am now the leader, and you will all follow my orders. I will take first portions from now forward, Bamba said as he wiped the blood from his spear.

This was the first murder in the Americas. Since that day, the violent killings for self-interest have never stopped and continue to the present day throughout the region. Violence is especially bad in Mexico because of the vicious and destructive gangs that now dominate that country. Murders are also prevalent throughout the USA.

Mexico and Guatemala had some of the earliest and most advanced civilizations in all the Americas, but those magnificent cultures have disappeared over the centuries because of war and infighting over self-interests. Now, the new Mexican culture is gang warfare, and the USA has had an unprecedented increase in violent crime in recent years.

In 2022, there were 31,127 violent homicides in Mexico, and 26,031 murders in the United States. The murder rates in many Central American and South American countries are also higher than in most regions of the world.

Many experts believe that North America, Central America, and South America were populated by the descendants of these early Siberian migrants. Maybe violence is simply in the genes of the Americas people.

Chapter One

Billy Hartwell had just returned to his home in Islamorada, Florida from a successful treasure hunting trip in Arizona. Upon arrival, his former girlfriend, Leslie Hill, had surprised him with a charter boat and an eager young captain to go fishing in the nearby Atlantic Ocean.

Years ago, mahi-mahi fishing had been their most favorite thing to do together. That was before she had left him at the altar for another man. Now, a few years after the death of her husband, she was trying hard to rebuild Billy’s love for her and to make him forget her mistake.

They were on a 35-foot Contender fishing boat, and several hours after leaving the dock, they had caught two ten-pound mahi-mahi. They were laughing and enjoying a sunny afternoon with an occasional kiss. Leslie was pleased with Billy’s affection and happy with the day.

Suddenly a storm appeared out of the northeast with huge black clouds as far as the eyes could see.

The Contender was one of the best sport fishing boats for its size on the market and Captain John Ball was proud of his new charter boat. He had boasted that he was not afraid of rough water and now he would get a chance to assess his belief. Despite the young captain’s pride of ownership, it was still a small boat in a big ocean.

They were twenty miles offshore from the Florida Keys. They had entered the gulf stream when they were only ten miles from Islamorada, and now 6-foot waves were hitting the boat every several seconds and the wind was picking up to over twenty-five knots. The boat had a 9-foot, 10-inch beam and it softened the rolls, but it was still bouncing around and tossing the two anglers, the mate, and the captain hard against the gunnels.

The boat had all the electronics expected on a charter boat, including radar that could look out over forty miles. This storm came up quickly, and the radar shows it getting worse in the next five minutes. I want you guys to put on your life jackets and sit on the deck to avoid any chance of falling overboard. I think the seas could become ten feet high in just a couple of minutes, Captain John said to his passengers.

Captain, you must have an emergency Epirb (Emergency Position-Indicating Radio Beacon) on board. In case we get tossed overboard, I want an Epirb to attach to one of the vests. Where can I find it? demanded Billy as the storm worsened.

Take this. It is not an Epirb but it is a new ACR Buoyant Personal Locator Beacon with GPS. It will last for thirty hours once you are in the water, and it is easy to keep connected to your vest. I think it is a better personal device than an Epirb, if you fall overboard, said Captain John as he reached into the console and handed a small device to Billy.

Okay. That will do, said Billy as he clipped the locator beacon to his life jacket.

Billy helped Leslie with her life jacket, and they sat down as the captain had ordered. The weather became much worse, and the rain was so powerful and dense that it was impossible to see beyond five feet. The boat probably would not sink in these conditions, but it was extremely dangerous and difficult for the passengers to stay secure to the boat deck. It was far too rough to use the small cabin so they just held on to anything they could find to stay in the boat and not be tossed overboard.

Captain, I think you should just hold as slow and steady as you can directly into the wind. Do not try to make any headway, just keep us from taking a wave that will broadside the boat and flip us over, suggested Billy who was an experienced mariner.

Billy had lost confidence in the knowledge of the young captain and thought of taking over control of the boat himself. But he quickly decided he could not do that without a potential fight, and it was too rough to cause a disagreement and perhaps a scuffle. They would just need to hold on and wait out the storm.

It was a long, turbulent forty-five minutes, but the angry storm finally passed, and the seas calmed down somewhat. The waves dropped to a continuously jarring 4–6-foot height. Although thoroughly bruised, the passengers were still aboard the boat, but they had lost the desire to fish.

Captain, I think we want to go home. I’m exhausted from that ordeal, and I need a hot bath and a glass of wine, said Leslie as she stayed glued to the deck in the bouncing boat.

The captain agreed and turned the boat to the west and headed toward the marina in Islamorada. He had only gone a few miles when they met another boat coming toward them. It was a somewhat larger boat and it looked like it had suffered storm damage to the windshield and the canvas top.

Ahoy, could you folks give us a hand? We have an injured man onboard who needs medical attention. We need to keep going to Miami for an important meeting and we do not have time to take him to the hospital in the Keys, said the captain of the other boat as it pulled alongside the Contender.

Why don’t you take him to a hospital in Miami? You can be there in less than two hours, if you push it, said Captain John Ball.

He hit his head, and he is bleeding badly. I don’t think we should wait for two hours. Please let us put him onboard your vessel. I have some money I can give you to help us. We are from Mexico, and we have lost time for an important meeting, said the other captain who was speaking with a heavy accent.

We don’t need your money, but it will not be easy to transfer him in this rough water, said Captain John.

We have large bumpers, and we can tie up tightly to your vessel and make a quick pass of him to you guys and it should only take a moment, said the Mexican captain.

Okay. Let’s give it a try but please don’t tear up my new boat or I will need a lot of money from you, said Captain John with a goodhearted laugh.

After a few tries they were able to secure the two boats together and Captain John was ready for the injured man to be transferred to his boat. Suddenly, three men jumped into the Contender with handguns pointed at the four people onboard the fishing boat.

Do not resist our efforts to take control of your boat or we will kill you without hesitation, said one of the men with a pistol, who also sounded like a Mexican or a citizen from one of the other Central American countries.

What the hell are you doing? This is piracy! This is a huge crime, and you will spend years in jail for this hijacking, yelled Captain John as he turned to push the man overboard.

The armed man shot Captain John without any hesitation, pulled him from the captain’s chair and tossed him overboard. He then turned his gun on the mate and Billy and Leslie.

I will not say it again. We are taking over this vessel. We have a rendezvous that we cannot miss, and our boat is disabled from the storm. We hit something hard in the water, and we are taking on water too fast for our bilge pumps to keep the boat afloat. We have cargo onboard our boat that must be transferred to your vessel. You will now go to the stern of the boat and sit on the deck and do not move, ordered the Mexican man.

The aggressors began unloading bales of something and boxes of other stuff. It was becoming obvious that these were drug runners. It was not clear how they had gotten to this part of the Atlantic Ocean, but it was very clear that they were dangerous and would kill anyone that interfered with their transfer of cargo.

Billy and Leslie did not talk. Their fishing mate who was there to prepare the fishing equipment and help with the landing of the fish did speak Spanish. He tried to speak to the Mexicans and find out what was happening, but he was told to keep quiet, and he would not be hurt.

It took over an hour in the lingering rough water for the transfer of their cargo.

You guys can now move from your boat onto our boat. We will leave you in the boat and not the sea as a gesture of kindness. Our boat may sink soon, but maybe you can find something to use as a floatation device to stay alive. Good luck and hasta luego, said the Mexican captain as he untied the two boats and sped away.

Let’s make a quick check for the condition of this boat, Billy said to Raul, the mate, as they stood knee-deep in water in the damaged craft.

It appears the hull is cracked on the starboard side. Look at the hole over here, said Raul.

No bilge pump could keep up with that big hole. Look how much water is already in the boat. It is up to our knees and the water is pouring into the boat. They must have hit a submerged shipping container or some other large object. I think we will sink in twenty minutes or less, said Billy.

What should we do? asked Raul.

We are lucky we have on our life vests, and my vest has the PLB (Personal Locating Beacon) which will send out a distress signal as soon as we hit the water, and it will send our GPS coordinates via satellites. The coast guard will pick up our signal and know we are in distress. I think we should also see if the VHF radio still works on this boat and send out an SOS to any boat on channel 16, said Billy.

Billy, they destroyed the radio. It has been torn apart. It will not work. They also tore out all the wires that support the engine and we cannot start them. So, we are without any radio or power, said Raul as he pointed to the dangling wires.

Okay. Let’s stay on board the boat as long as we can. The waves are rough, but not strong enough anymore to capsize the boat even if they hit us broadside. I will activate the PLB right now and maybe we will still be afloat when we are found, said Billy as he pushed the PLB under the water and the distress signals began at once.

The boat did not sink for almost an hour, and when they finally moved into the water Billy had tied the three of them together with one of the ropes left on the boat. The waves tossed the three of them around with plenty of intensity and power, but thankfully there were no sharks circling to increase their fear and danger. Leslie kept calm most of the time, but periodically she would cry in frustration that her plans to have a fun time with Billy had been ruined by such a calamity.

They were only in the water for another hour before a Sixty-five-foot Viking Sport Fishing boat saw them bobbing and swirling in the continuing rough sea. The Viking crew had been fishing in the Bahamas and were returning to their homebase in Islamorada when the boat captain had received a marine broadcast bulletin from the coast guard that a boat was sinking at specific GPS coordinates. The captain had changed their course to help the boaters in distress and found them quickly thanks to the modern technology of the beacon sending out their detailed location. The crew took them aboard the boat, gave them some blankets, and they headed to the Keys with three grateful water-logged passengers.

After docking and thanking the Viking crew, Billy and Leslie returned to his house on the Snake Creek Canal in Islamorada, took a hot bath, and fell asleep for eight hours without awakening. There would be reports to file in the morning, and Billy would be damn sure to find out who took over their boat. He would use his contacts at the CIA to help him figure out where the drugs came from and who was behind the shipment and murder of an innocent young boat captain.

Then there would be hell to pay.

Chapter two

Billy and Leslie had a simple breakfast of cold cereal with some blueberries and hot coffee. They were still stunned from their experience yesterday.

Billy, I worked so hard to find a fishing charter that would give us an enjoyable time. Look what happened, and now we have a mess on our hands. We need to go to the sheriff’s office and make a report, and I can’t erase the image of them shooting Captain John and heartlessly tossing him overboard. I hate them. If I could find them, I could kill them, lamented Leslie.

I feel the same way. I was looking forward to our fishing trip. But the rough water and the brutal men combined to make it a totally insane afternoon. I will do all I can to find out who they are, and who paid them to take those drugs to Miami. Those guys were just goons, the boss can’t be too far away, said Billy.

Billy, do you blame me for the trouble? I didn’t know the captain would be so inexperienced, so I paid no attention to the weather assuming he knew what to expect once we hit the gulf stream. What a dunce! We should never have left the marina yesterday and none of this would have happened, Leslie said with such sadness that it surprised Billy.

Of course, I don’t blame you! He was inexperienced but we both should have checked the weather before getting on the boat. It was such a surprise to see the boat docked behind my house when I arrived from Miami that I forgot to take the normal precautions before going fishing. You were so excited when you said, ‘let go dolphin fishing’ that I could only look at you in amazement and appreciation for your efforts to make me happy, he said.

Oh Billy, I do want to please you. I hope we can make this new attempt at a relationship and resume the fun times we had six or seven years ago. I can’t get those exciting times out of my mind. I almost go crazy thinking about you and our exuberant joy that lasted for almost two full years, she said, desperate to make the arrangement work.

I think maybe we can make it work. By the way, Leslie, I need the house for myself this afternoon. I have some very private guests arriving at 4 o’clock and I’m not sure how long they will be here. This meeting is a carryover from the difficult situation you witnessed in Arizona. Maybe you can go over to the Cheeca Lodge for a spa-afternoon. You should pamper yourself after the experience yesterday and relax in their tranquil environment, Billy said.

Okay, I understand but now let’s go get the interview with the sheriff behind us. I’m so nervous to relive yesterday, she said as she went to the bedroom clothes closet.

They arrived at the Sheriff’s Islamorada Substation at 10 o’clock. There was a large group of people in the waiting room but when they introduced themselves, they were taken back to an interview room to meet with Officer Brad James. They gave the details of the trip from the moment they boarded the boat until they went to bed. They each gave a statement that included the best descriptions of the men they could remember. They described the drug gangs’ faces and their physical characteristics and clothing. They also both recalled that there were two men with tattoos on their hands that were images of ‘blue knives’.

Officer James said, The Blues are a well-known Mexican drug cartel operating out of Mexico City. That is their identifying tattoo. Our law enforcement agencies in the Keys have arrested many Blues gang members over the years as they try to bring drugs across the Gulf of Mexico to different points in Florida. They are known to be brutal and fearless of anyone but their bosses. They bring cocaine, heroin, meth, and fentanyl along with some marijuana in fast boats or fishing boats to avoid detection by hiding among the many sport fishing boats in the Gulf and Atlantic.

Have they been more active lately than in the past? asked Billy.

Yes, they are more active, and they have more meth and fentanyl onboard these days than in the past. A few years ago, it was mainly pot, cocaine, and heroin, Officer James continued.

Do you need anything else from us now? If not, you have our numbers, and we will do anything we can to help. I would love to see the bastard that shot Captain John suffer in one of our overcrowded jails here in the Keys, said Billy.

Thanks for coming by. I’m just glad that you and Miss Hill are okay. What an ordeal to suffer instead of enjoying a good time fishing, the officer said.

Billy and Leslie each got a quick burger at McDonalds and Billy went home while Leslie went for an afternoon at the Cheeca Spa.

Anne Larsen was sitting in her car in Billy’s driveway when Billy arrived. In another car were two men in dark suits. Everyone got out of their cars and joined Billy at the front door. There were no introductions until they were all seated in the living room.

Can I get anyone something to drink? asked Billy.

We are good, answered the blond-haired man.

I would love a glass of water or a diet coke, said Anne.

When Billy returned with the glass of ice filled with diet coke, the introductions began.

My name is Mark Isenberg, and I’m assigned to the CIA covert operations division in DC, said the blond man with an unusually handsome face.

My name is Fred Burstein, and I’m assigned to the domestic and international terrorist organization with the FBI in DC, said the tall, average looking man with a crew cut.

I’m Anne Larsen, a recently trained and successful covert CIA officer, said the pretty girl in a navy pant suit, with sarcasm.

I’m Billy Hartwell a fulltime treasure hunter and a part time covert CIA agent, said the clean-cut thirty-six-year-old man, with an equal amount of sarcasm.

Of course, we know who you are, we are here to discuss your escapades out in Arizona that caused one of our long time CIA officers to disappear and your failure to keep CIA HQ advised of your activities. You may be in serious trouble, and you may lose your affiliation with our organization. Do you understand why we have asked for this meeting? questioned Mark.

No, I do not know why you are here. We had a debriefing at HQ after we finished our assignment in Arizona. We told our interviewers that the international white supremacists called ‘WO’ for Whites Only, were no longer a threat to take over the San Carlos Apache Reservation, which we felt was our assignment. Maybe the WO leaders were killed by the Apache’s, but we did not see them die. Their warehouse blew up, and a massive quantity of weapons were destroyed. After we gave our stories, we were thanked and told to go home for a month and relax. Now you show up only two days after I return home, and Anne must have had to scramble to get here for this meeting, said an agitated Billy.

I also have no idea why this meeting is happening. If I’m in trouble, I am sure as hell disappointed because we did what we were told to do, said an equally agitated Anne.

You were not told to ignore HQ, said Mark.

Yes, we were!!! We were just recently trained rookies, and we were told to report only to Rudy. You must know by now that Rudy was corrupt, and he wanted to keep CIA HQ from knowing anything about the movements of WO. We did not discover his corruption and double-agent role until the day they all disappeared. He shielded us from any contact with HQ. In fact, during our training nobody at the CIA ever gave us a number or name to call if we needed help, shouted a truly pissed Anne.

You should have taken the initiative to call our main numbers and explain your situation, said Mark.

We did not know we had a situation until the day everyone disappeared. There was nothing to report because Rudy told us he was keeping HQ totally informed, said Billy.

How did you discover that Rudy was a double agent? asked Mark.

“Anne and I suspected him because he was asking us to gather information that we knew he already had. But the way we became certain was over greed. I’m a treasure hunter and when he heard that I might be about to discover a lot of gold he asked me to let him be a partner. He said he needed money to cover gambling debts and if he could share some of the treasure it would get him out of trouble with some bad guys. He kept talking about his need for more money and he continued to beg me to cut him in on the treasure. I made