The Spirit Survives Read online

  He didn’t call either of the Mexican drug cartels that he was presently doing business with. He didn’t trust the damn Mexicans.

  With Petrov and Bastone searching, he was confident of success. Whoever the bastards were, he was determined to make them pay.

  Chapter 16

  Leah awoke after only two hours sleep. Her head ached both from worry and lack of sleep. She got out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, swallowed two aspirins and walked to the window and looked out. Hard rain pelted the windows and daylight tried to filter through the thick clouds. This was only the second day after the tornado struck Lookout Mountain, it felt like a month. After making a pot of coffee and downing two cups, Leah showered, and prepared herself for another day of searching for Ben. She decided to return to Lookout Mountain and drive the roads herself. The pouring rain stopped and a beautiful rainbow appeared in the eastern sky. Leah looked at it and a tear ran down her cheek.

  As she was leaving the motel, she noticed a Denny’s restaurant and realized that she needed to eat before she began her drive. She parked beside a Ford Excursion and went into the restaurant. She was seated and ordered a pot of black coffee, one egg over well, whole wheat toast and cream of wheat. Leah drank her coffee and toyed with her breakfast only eating about half of it. She walked to the register to pay her bill and got in line behind a very tall grey-haired man. He had a frown on his face and looked upset about something. He turned and looked straight into her eyes. She said good morning to him, and lowered her eyes to her purse to get the money to pay the check. She walked back to her car and noticed the tall guy get into the Excursion. He sat there fumbling in his glove compartment as she took her cell phone out of her purse, started her car and drove away.

  The traffic was light as she drove down Highway 51. She picked up her cell phone and dialed the Tomahawk police department only to be informed again that no one other than the deceased female was found on the mountain. She was told that the search would continue for one more day, but the mountain had been thoroughly covered by foot and by helicopter. Leah was informed again that if any further information became available that she’d be called immediately. They did advise her, however; that they had recovered two fingerprints from the abandoned vehicle—one on the glove compartment and one on the warranty book. The prints did not match anyone on file.

  When Leah arrived at Lookout Mountain, she entered and just started driving up the one road that accessed the mountain. She drove past the parking area where Ben’s car had been found. After driving three additional miles, she saw a sign that read, “Road Closed.” She observed the rocks and boulders that obstructed the road on the other side of the sign. There was a turn-around twenty feet on this side of the sign. Leah pulled into the area and killed the motor. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized the futility of her search. She had never felt so alone. Ben was missing, and she knew now that she could do nothing but wait and hope that the police would locate him. Two days had passed since his disappearance and the possibilities of him still being alive were waning.

  Leah reluctantly decided to return to the motel and wait until the end of the day. If she heard nothing, she would drive back to Green Bay and develop another plan. If necessary, she would hire a private investigator to supplement the police search. She cranked her car and pulled back on the road to leave the mountain. She drove about a mile when she encountered a Ford Excursion blocking the road. A very tall grey-haired man was leaning against the fender. After a moment, she recognized him as the man who stood in front of her in the cashier line at Denny’s. She had no idea why his SUV was blocking the road, unless he had car trouble. She stopped, put her car in park and got out. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

  Chapter 17

  My leg was throbbing. The swelling had begun and I had to adjust the strips twice to loosen them. My spirit and my determination were fading as I felt the pain both in my head and my leg. I had come too far in life to die in a damp cave. Sometimes the human spirit just wants to give up. In my present state, life didn’t seem worth living. Then I thought of Leah and the bond we had formed. I had searched for a soul mate for many years until she came into my life. I had to find the courage to fight on.

  As I sat in the cave, trapped, my mind wandered back to my college years. There was a time when I was fixated on trying to solve the mystery of the soul. I remember when my friend Bill Coon and I decided to come up with a definition for the soul. It seemed like yesterday when the world was a mystery and a challenge for a struggling college student.

  The day was cool and crisp in Cullowhee, North Carolina on the Western Carolina University campus. It was late afternoon in September and the high temperature had been fifty-six degrees. There was something about the mountain air that smelled so clean and clear. Bill Coon and I breathed in that cleansing air as we walked back to our dorm room after eating dinner in the college cafeteria. The campus glowed with the beautiful gold colors that leaves turned this time of the year. Each old oak tree was an individual piece of art. The fried chicken dinner that Bill and I had eaten had been ok. We both would have preferred a burger and fries, but Bill, like me, had no money. We were forced to use our cafeteria meal ticket if we wanted to eat. I was in my junior year and he was a sophomore. I was in college to escape the certain destiny of working in the cotton mills of North Carolina and Bill was there to escape the coal mines of West Virginia. We were working our way through college and were determined to graduate or die. It was that simple. We had formed a strong bond of friendship because of our determination and our similar poor backgrounds.

  About halfway back to the dorm, Bill said, out of the clear blue, “I wonder if I have a soul.”

  I thought about it for a few minutes, so I could give him a thoughtful answer. “What is a soul?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  We decided at that point to go back to the room and try to figure it out. It was Friday night and we had no classes the next day, so we had as much time as we needed. It didn’t occur to Bill and me that the brightest minds in the world had never produced a definitive answer to that question. He and I had made up our minds, and we got to it.

  In that small dorm room, we discussed it for hours. In turn, we would dismiss each other’s definitions, trying to use our small-town logic and college learning. On several occasions we nearly agreed, only to find flaws that dismissed the definition. We argued, sometimes in loud voices and other times sat for long periods of time in silence. He, like me, had determined that in life you can never quit. If you refuse to quit, you’ll never fail. So we continued to search for the answer. We lost all track of time, although time didn’t matter.

  Finally, after another long period of silence Bill took a very deep breath. It startled me. I though for a moment and said, “Bill, do that again!”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Take another deep breath.”

  He complied and things cleared in my mind. I had the answer. “Bill, the soul is The Breath of Life.”

  He was silent, thinking. He smiled showing that big gap between his teeth. “You’re right,” he said, “that’s the definitive answer we’ve been searching for.”

  I stood up and pulled the drapes back from the small window in the dorm room. It was morning. Bill and I had been talking all night. I saw kids walking toward the cafeteria for breakfast. Each of their souls was breathing the Breath of Life. Joe and I knew something that they didn’t and probably they never thought of it anyway.

  When you’re born and you take that first breath, your soul enters your body. When you die and take your last breath your soul leaves your body. What happens to the soul after you die? Bill and I never tackled that question.

  Sometimes when I think of Leah, and remember our talks, I think we are speaking to each other’s souls. As long as I have the Breath of Life, I will hold her dear in my heart and in my thoughts. I am so thankful that she is a part of my soul.

  I returned to reality and under
stood that I would never quit. Bill and I never quit, and we came up with a solution. I could do the same now.

  My thoughts were again interrupted by a slurping noise. I looked in the direction of the sound.

  The wolf was feeding on Cherokee.

  Chapter 18

  Bo pursued the girl to Lookout Mountain. He had little patience and wanted to bring this mess to a conclusion. Loose ends would ruin his reputation with the cartels. He wanted to clean up this situation and get back to Chicago. He needed to know if the girl knew where Ben Harris was, and he wanted to know it quickly. It was much too risky for him to call the authorities to inquire about the man or to ask about Cherokee. Since he knew that the girl lived with Harris, she should have information. There was no traffic on the mountain, so he decided to force the issue and confront her now.

  As she drove up the mountain, Bo parked his SUV sideways on the road, blocking it. He got out of his vehicle, leaned against the fender and waited. After a few minutes Leah’s car appeared. She stopped, got out of her car and approached him.

  “What is your problem?” she asked in an agitated voice. “Get that car out of my way!”

  Bo just stood there gaping at her. Her defiant look turned to a look of concern.

  Bo slowly walked around her and got between Leah and her car. He spoke in a calm voice, smiling. “Listen, I need to talk to Ben Harris, that’s all I want. Just tell me how I can reach him.”

  “How do you know that I know Ben Harris?”

  “Listen lady, I don’t want any trouble, just tell me how I can reach him. It’s important.”

  Leah’s voice shook. “I saw you at Denny’s. Are you following me?”

  Bo grinned again and said, “Lady, just tell me where Ben is.”

  Leah began walking toward her car and replied, “I’m leaving now, and I’m going to the police.”

  As she walked by Bo, he grabbed her arm, “Are you going to make me do this the hard way, honey?”

  Leah slapped him hard yelling, “Let go of my arm you bastard!”

  Bo tightened his grip and hit her solidly between the eyes. Leah slumped to the ground unconscious. Bo went to his SUV and retrieved the plastic restraints and the duct tape that he had purchased for his hit on Veronika. He secured Leah’s hands and feet and taped her mouth with the duct tape. He picked up her limp body and threw it in the back of the SUV. After searching her pockets, Bo determined that she didn’t have her car keys on her, so they must be in the car. He covered her with the tarp that he had planned to bury Veronika in.

  Bo proceeded to her car, the keys were in the ignition and her purse was on the seat. He put on plastic gloves that he always kept in his pocket and picked up her purse from the seat. He placed it in his SUV on the front floorboard. He went back to her car and pulled it into the parking area on the right side of the road. He locked her car and returned to his SUV.

  This incident had taken an unexpected turn, but Bo was happy with it. He would use her as bait to lure Ben Harris, so he could kill him. There is nothing better than sexy bait, he thought.

  Bo left Lookout Mountain, proud of himself.

  Chapter 19

  The Mexican Drug cartels, which are operating in the Houston and Chicago areas and other cities in the USA, are buying up legitimate businesses to launder money and using some of the money to enter local politics. They purchase used car lots, body shops, restaurants and other small businesses. They have been successful in electing mayors in some small cities who are sympathetic to their cause. These urban areas have a large illegal population. There are several small towns near Houston and Chicago where this is happening.

  When they are established in a community, the cartel business owners run for city council or mayor or other offices. When successful, they are able to buy votes and influence to take over management of the town. This creates a comfort zone in which to operate without interference from local law enforcement. The corruption spreading from Mexico is not confined to any part of the USA. In one county in Texas the former sheriff and several other officials were recently convicted of receiving drug-smuggling bribes. In a county in Arizona, where the border runs down the middle of the town and divides it from its sister city in Mexico, the mayor’s brother was discovered to have a tunnel from one of his rental properties going into Mexico.

  The two most successful cartels using this strategy in the USA were the Salazar cartel and the Flores cartel.

  Bo Lopez performed contract work for both the Salazar cartel and the Flores cartel. The Salazar cartel’s United States home base was in Houston, Texas, with its Mexican base in Mexico City. The Flores cartel had its USA base in Chicago, with its Mexican base in Guadalajara. These cartels were fierce competitors but were held in check by common business partners, Sergey Inanova and the mysterious man they called the Benefactor. The Benefactor supplied an almost endless supply of cash when needed, and kept the police off their backs. Ivanova, with the powerful and merciless Russian Mafia and his connections to La Cosa Nostra, was a man to be feared. Crossing him meant certain death. In recent months Sergey had been favoring the Flores cartel and its leader, Rodrigo Flores. Flores had broken an unspoken agreement with the Salazar cartel and began paying Inanova a higher percentage kickback. This action angered Elazar Fernandez and his boss, Cesar Salazar.

  Cesar could not figure out a way to combat this development. Elezar Fernandez, who was the real brains in the operation, came up with a brilliant plan. His plan would not only bring the lost business back to the Salazar cartel, it could lead to the destruction of the Flores cartel.

  Cesar listened intently as his second-in-command outlined his plan.

  They were aware that Bo Lopez contracted with both cartels. Sergey also knew Lopez, but he had the indestructible Petrov to do his killing.

  Everyone in the business knew of Sergey’s orders to keep his daughter Veronika insulated from all the businesses. Fernandez’s plan was brilliant in its simplicity. He would hire Bo Lopez to kill Veronika. Behind the scenes, he would set up the scenario. When the time was right and the hit was accomplished, he would kill Bo and plant false evidence that Bo had been hired by the Torres cartel. Sergey would be forever grateful to Fernandez for informing him about who had killed his daughter and then he would destroy Rodrigo Torres.

  In order to successfully implement his plan, Fernandez knew that he required the permission of the Benefactor. Cesar was the leader of this cartel, but the man known as the Benefactor was the kingpin behind all the cartels located in the United States. None of the leaders knew his actual identity, but he ruled the cartels with an iron hand and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of money to finance the operations. More importantly, he provided them with unprecedented police protection, warning them of raids and other difficulties. He was a man to be reckoned with. If a cartel crossed Sergey, he would try to kill them. If they crossed the Benefactor, he would call down the law enforcement on them with a vengeance. His power of destruction was equal to Sergey’s.

  The only way to contact the Benefactor was to call an unpublished number and leave a message with the code. The Benefactor provided a different code every month. Sometimes it was a word, other times a number. This month the code word was “shadow”. It was known that the Benefactor was not pleased with the Torres cartel’s payments to him. Fernandez called the number said, the word “shadow” and left his phone number.

  After about twenty minutes the phone rang. The muffled voice of the Benefactor came on the line. “What do you want Fernandez?”

  The Mexican told him of his plan and waited for his response.

  “You have my permission to proceed. Make sure it is handled efficiently, or I will hold you personally responsible. I’ll wire $100,000 dollars to cover all the expenses to your Swiss account. Good luck.”

  The click on the other end of the phone indicated to Fernandez that the phone call was over.

  Fernandez had hired Lopez for half the amount that the Benefactor had sent him. He figure
d that he would use the other $50,000 to deal with Lopez later. The flies in the ointment were that Bo had been observed killing the girl, and he had hired Cherokee Hernandez without Fernandez’s prior knowledge. Fernandez had to depend on Bo to kill the witness and to deal with Cherokee. When that was accomplished, he could move forward with his plans. He knew that Bo was relentless, so the waiting time would be short.

  All he could do now was wait.

  Chapter 20

  Staring into the cold darkness of the cave, I felt a sharp pain in my left leg, near where the rattlesnake had bitten me. Something was pulling on it, so I grabbed my flashlight. Shining it in the direction of the stabbing pain, I saw a pair of eyes looking back at me—those of a large timber wolf. I remember thinking that the wolf appeared to be grinning as it bit down on my leg again, trying to rip off a chunk of flesh. I attempted to scream, but nothing came out, and I was utterly unable to move as I watched the wolf feed on my flesh.

  I heard another sound, a man laughing. Moving the light, I saw my father, grinning and nodding his head yes, up and down, up and down. “Help me, Daddy!” I cried, but he just sat there and watched the wolf tear at my leg while drool ran down the man’s chin. He looked as if he wanted to join the wolf and start feasting on my flesh.

  My father mumbled, “Eat him, eat him. Tear off his legs. Tear out his guts. Eat him, eat him!”

  “Daddy, why won’t you help me?” I pleaded. “You’re my father; you’re supposed to protect me. Please, Daddy,” I cried, “don’t let the wolf eat me!”

  I woke up screaming. I sat up and wiped the cold sweat and tears from my face. Bright morning sunlight flowed in through the hole at the top of the cave, and I looked back to where the wolf slept, unmoving, dried blood around its mouth. I glanced at Cherokee’s body and could see that large pieces of flesh had been torn from his legs. His left calf was practically gone, and I could see exposed bone and sinew. No point worrying about anyone trying to save him; he was well on his way to hell by now.