Trailer Trash: chapter twenty six

the Valley of Decision

chapter twenty six

In a fogged in and rainy Brazil, Les Dickout, the CEO of Red Oil, sat in the Belem international airport lounge, flipping nervously through financial statements. Eyes flashing back and forth like a Felix the Cat clock, from the departures and arrivals screen, to the tarmac window, he had no idea that Red would fly in undetected on his private jet.

It took a lot, but Red’s mouth hung open. “Is this some kind of joke?” he snapped, looking around the airport lounge, to see if anyone else was in on the joke?

Red had been studying the man’s face. The man was now in silhouette, sitting in front of a large plate-glass window, sweating like a pig, even in a cold air-conditioned room. As planes were landing and taking off behind him, he was probably on his fifth scotch and was obviously very nervous.

He had one of those warty purple bulbous noses and kept dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. Red wanted to lean over and ring out his nose like a sponge.

He was obviously an efficient man but a tyrant when running Red’s company. An actual coward, and very timid around Red. He’d heard of Red’s reputation after being employed a year and was terrified of the man. And was now even afraid to quit.

He felt awkward in the velvet knee-pads as he was more inclined to be on the receiving end of ass kissers. Red had seen nothing to indicate the man was delusional. His story did seem beyond the realms of reality, yet plausible. Red eyed him with suspicion. When did it not become fun anymore? He wondered.

“OK listen, I want you, and the whole lot of them in my hotel room in 2 days! You got that. Everyone, bring them all in!”

‘Les Dickout, what a fucking name,’ he thought, laughing to himself.

Red’s phone rang. “S is singing, mole arrested. There’s an arrest warrant out for you. Lawyers informed.” spoke a man’s voice.

“Deal with it!” snapped Red, hanging up. Red was taken back by this news; his powerful mind began racing a mile a minute. Worry must have momentarily squeezed through the cracks in his armor. Red’s usual poker face, had momentarily collapsed?

“Is everything Ok sir? asked Les Dickout. Seeing Reds face turn a deathly pale.

“Yes fine.” But Red’s mind was racing madly under a cool exterior. His mind worked better in fear.

Lester was regretting this eventually and took a deep breath. “Like I said, I got this call from my project manager,” repeated his CEO. “He said that one of his oil men up on the second test sight, got a broken, and static message, from his crew far in the jungle,” he continued. “They said that they had seen a miracle, they swore on it!”

“A miracle?” I wanna talk with this project manager!

“Yes sir, that was their actual words, verbatim. They ask for the medicine for themselves, but the old Jungle Bunny, their words not mine, would only deal with the head man, if they wanted the secret potion?”

“That’s common out here.” Offered Les. “Important matters are always dealt with by elders.”

“Makes sense to me?” Replied Red.

“You’ll never guess what comes next?”

“Go on… for fuck sake man!” Red snapped, impatiently.

“Your own policy states that we tell you all interesting events, even minor ones,” squeaked Les nervously.

“OK fine. I promise I won’t fire you!”

“Well, here’s the interesting part,” he said, dabbing his face furiously with his hanky. “That its supposed to be able to cure cancer?” said Les, half laughing.

“Cancer…were they drunk?” asked Red.

“That’s what I asked, and apparently, they weren’t. They said that they saw it with their own eyes. And had they not, they wouldn’t have believed it themselves. They saw it quickly save a young woman in a matter of days. She had wandered out of the jungle into the clearing. She collapsed and was covered in huge ugly lumps and lesions.”

“Clearing?” asked Red.

“Yes, a cleared safety perimeter all around shipping container.”

“Could a helicopter land in there?”

“Yes, I would imagine so. But in flood no. Not unless the thing had pontoons. It will be a lake in there now or soon.?”

“Who else knows about this?” demanded Red, in no uncertain terms.

“Ahaaa well me, my manager of course, and I guess the radio operator?”

“That’s all?”

“It was such a joke, that it got spread around the crew. But as far as I know that was it? Nobody believes it of course!” he whimpered, looking into his empty shot glass, and trying to perform mental telepathy on the waitress.

“You booked my room, like I asked?”

“Yes sir, well basically your assistant Mr. Billings did. I’m sorry, but there’s more! There is still one more very strange thing I have to inform you of?”

“Go on man, geez.”

“Well, the deal for the drug is that RedOil has to stop all exploration and pack up and leave. That is if you want the medicine?” he exclaimed. “Yes, it’s true the Natives have bitterly complained before, but this sounds incredible!” said Les, as an after thought.

“Really?” said Red.

“Yes, but this is all total nonsense, right?” asked Red’s subordinate.

“Yes, probably total nonsense. Could stress, or could long periods of time in isolation cause this kind of behavior?” asked Red. “I guess what I’m asking, is have you ever seen this kind of behavior before?”

“No sir, this is very unusual. I will fire them the moment they set foot back on shore!”

“Could they be inventing this?” “Ha” laughed Les. Then caught himself. “Those two morons, not likely, that’s what’s so weird about it?” “Its probably one of our competitors playing a bad joke?” laughed Red. “Like, if we don’t do it, someone else will?”

“Yes, a bad joke,” repeated the man. “But those ignorant savages might not know that?”

“True,” replied Red, thinking the same thing himself.

The man sighed in relief. “I’m sorry I had to bring you all this way for nothing,” replied Mr. Dickout, sitting back in his chair, glad to finally have this terrible nonsensical ordeal over with.

“It’s just business, comes with the job.”

“By the way, you have the whole top floor of the east wing booked for you this time. With better views of the river.”

“Well done,” said Red, generously. Les Dickout perked up after receiving this trivial bone. “I need to freshen up and sleep a bit.”

“Ya, no problem getting everyone in except the two out in the jungle, right? They’re at least four days away by boat. And that’s just if all goes well?” replied Les nervously. “Its rainy season, as you can see, and the river is in flood. Answered Les. We’re having trouble getting supplies out to them, the boat is having engine problems. And even if it weren't, It still may not make it?”

“Aren’t they the ones I really want to talk too?”

“Well yes, I don’t want to repeat myself, but it’s our rainy season, the rivers are becoming flooded. It will be worse where the station is. The window of opportunity is closing fast, if not already. We’re waiting on an engine part for the boat and if we can’t make a shift change, we won’t see these two men for roughly two months.

“Right, then hire a bigger faster boat!”

“It’s not that easy. No one will take a boat up river in flood season.” The CEO knew better than to say it was impossible to Red. “The river and tributaries swell into lakes and navigation disappears.” continued the CEO. “Even with breaks in the weather and GPS, the river is totally clogged with debris.”

“Right. Bring all the rest in then! And no talking to each other or to anyone about this crazy shit. This ridiculous story stops here! Understand?”

“Stops here, yes!” replied the exhausted CEO, sitting across from Red, thinking that Red had lost his mind for a moment?

“Well, what the fuck you waiting for!”

“What about these reports? I’ve brought them with me, don’t you wanna see them?”

“Seriously?” said Red, snapping his fingers hailing over his assistant, Mr. Billings. Sitting across the room. “You deal with Billings here.” Continued Red to Les.

“Yes. I’ll get right on it!” exclaimed Les, as he fled the room, in such a hurry that he left his soiled velvet kneepads behind.

Mr. Billings whispered to Red that the limo had arrived at the airport to take them back to the hotel.

“See what that asshole is up to, and then make your own way to the hotel. Go, go!”

Back home, the San Rafael newspapers screamed, “Mayor Found Dead, Suicide Suspected.” Detective Swallwell dropped the paper onto her desk and flopped down into her chair. She sat silent a moment, then began weeping inconsolably. She knew well enough that this was no suicide.

She found the verse soothed her pain. Just then, the phone rang, it was her partner. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I was afraid to tell you. But we’ll find who did this, it only tells me we’re very close,” he said, in reassuring tones. Doug was at a total loss, as to what to say or do for her.

“It’s him. It’s Red!” she replied angrily. “I know it’s him!” she continued. “God forgive me, but I’d like to shoot him right between the eyes right now.”

“It’s not over by a long shot,” said Skidmore. “We’ll just plod on as usual, bit by bit, stone by stone, and we’ll get him. You’re a smart woman, Detective Swallwell. The creepy bastard doesn’t know who he’s up against.”

“I know myself. I need to mourn this!” she said into her phone. “Then I’ll be fine. I know this will end well Doug,” she said. As she reread the headline, her eyes began to well again.

Red got a call on his private number. “It’s done,” said a soft male voice.

“Good, now plug the other hole,” and threw the phone on the bed.

In his room Red turned on the TV, forgetting that he was in a foreign country. He turned down the sound, and called his broker, to ask how his oil company was doing?

Then dialed his private jet and told them not to wait, and that they would hear from him soon. Red knew the extreme value of pharmaceuticals. Especially natural ones that they can modify to patent. This drug venture could possibly set him on the path of great wealth and legitimacy?

The phone rang again, it was his broker. “The business is still in the red, but remember we talked about this before…”

Red cut him off. “What would it take to dissolve it, and how long?”

“Seriously?”

“Fuck man, not you too. Just answer my question?”

“I’ll have to get back to you.”

Red hung up. He called the manager at his ranch house and asked about his daughter?

“He did as you asked. He’s on his way back now.”

“How did she react?”

“I’ll know more when he arrives.”

“Keep me apprised. And I’ll be away indefinitely.”

“Sorry to hear that sir.”

His lawyer called. “Yes, its true. Maybe you should come in, and we’ll deny everything. At least you’ll probably be able to walk around free for a bit? If you don’t you’ll be arrested and probably denied bail.”

“I’ll let you know soon,” said Red and hung up. He threw himself down on the bed and thought. If this drug did turn out to be real, he could possibly go legit. He was being hemmed in from all directions. The law on one side. The global cartel and the Amazon river on the other. After running down all options and dead ends he finally opted for the latter. One thing in life was for sure, when Red made a decision, it was decided. And executed.

Red phoned his bodyguard, “Can you send out two of your best as soon as possible?”

“They’re down the hall already, #3407. Open your door. I’m two steps ahead of you.”

Red opened the door and looked outside. There stood a young man, he’d seen in the lounge earlier. “Evening sir.” Red nodded back.

“Can you two join me for dinner at…Red looked at his phone, but it was still on US Pacific time, “six thirty-nine Sir?” said the young man.

“At eight then.” Snorted Red adjusting the time on his watch.

“Yes sir!”
Red lifted his phone. “Smart ass!” and laughed.