inger had overseen the minor repairs to the big bird and was now finishing her check of the engines and fuel systems. She had come in yet another plane after getting info on the parts needed to repair the C130.
Harry Sprinter and the other two fallen LMA's were already home and cremated, having left on the DeHaviland at daybreak. The bodies of the guards would not be buried. All had Mexican papers but they were disgustingly unreal. Beau figured they the papers and jumpsuits belonged to the original prisoners who'd been killed so King and his men could take their places as prisoners.
But these were different men than those he'd dealt with before. Obviously they'd came in and surprised the cleanup crew. Harry had given them clues as to what had happened. He'd said they'd had a misahp upon landing, but, the C130 had been there before the first crew had left. Just what he meant by that they would have to figure out.
Beau was keeping his suspicion of the mute to himself. Because he didn't trust any of them, the remaining prisoners were kept in shackles to prevent them trying to escape. Beau had interviewed each one several times while keeping precise notes. If he had it figured right, the mute was King and the others were his cohorts. If he was right, they wouldn't be leaving here.
Two were carrying no papers, one being the deaf mute. The other was unable to speak English and knew little of Spanish. The eyes of the mute were the eyes of one who understood. But there was a little problem with the stories told of him, which differed. Beau figured they'd killed the Mexicans during the LMA attack, and when this last crew came, they posed as prisoners.
Later that evening, Beau and Andrea discussed the incident at the debriefing and she finally told him what she had not told the others. She related much of the incident leaving out most of the detailed information, but included all the details relating to the leader of the group who'd raided their community.
She had not laid eyes upon him, but she'd heard him screaming orders several times the night her family were taken. It was a high pitched voice similar to that of the Indian from India. He also spoke with authority and used few words, but, when he spoke, men jumped. As if he were a king or something.
Beau had been on the first mission to raid and destroy PIG as had Andrea. On that night she had heard that voice but was never able to pinpoint the owner. It stirred something up in her that she was unable to crush when informed all the prisoners were to be executed. It was quite plain these weren't Mexicans.
Had they been simply executed or turned loose, Andrea would never see justice for her family. At this point in her life, not finding and killing the man responsible for the horrendous deaths suffered at his hands was more than she could live with.
A plan was forming in the mind of Beau. Now Beau, being the good old southern boy that he was, loved sow belly and pork jowls, ham and bacon, and his good ol' southern raisin' got to yearning for some of that. He'd noticed a couple of times the feral pigs rooting in the carcasses of the bodies that were left in the killing field.
He instructed Andrea to keep an eye on the mute, but not to let him know she was watching. So next morning they were all up and had the prisoners located so they could watch Beau when he came back to camp. Beau had waited purposely for the execution of the four men with the expectation of learning the identity of the mute.
Andea had found her a spot well away from the plane behind some bushes prior to the placement of the prisoners. She lay watching the mute through the scope of her rifle. She had the safety on, something which she rarely did in the field. Although she was far enough away to prevent hearing anything that was said between the men, she just waited.
A shot was heard and a pig began to squeal. If anyone weren't wise to what was going on, they would have thought the shooter a bad shot. But the well placed shot incapacitated the animals' hind quarters enough not to prevent its' fleeing, but plenty of life remained to let it squeal.
And squeal it did! Andrea saw the mutes lips moving. He was speaking to the other men and one had begun wriggling trying to get at something around the Kings' waist. The man stopped wriggling when he heard Beau coming through the brush.
Beau appeared from the right dragging the pig by his right rear foot. It was a pretty good struggle as the pigs front legs were still active. And with his thrashing around he was slinging blood everywhere. Beau dragged the pig over close to the mute dropping the belt he had tied to its rear legs with which to drag it.
The pig instantly bolted upright in an attempt to get away and it went straight for the mute. Pure fear sprang up in his eyes and he started screaming at the top of his lungs with a voice that was known only to Andrea. The only sound before the sound of the shot was the safety as it was clicked into firing position.
Firoz Ahmed, King of PIG stiffened, relaxed and fell over. The militant on his right was struggling for something in the pocket of his boss, and Beau stepped up and kicked him in the side of the head knocking him out. Instantly the other two men ceased struggling against their bonds.
Beau heard Ginger yell from the cockpit "Clear," and heard the number one engine of the big bird turn over a couple of times, cough with huge outburst of smoke, then sputtered to life with a roar. The other two LMA's of Beaus group picked the prisoners up by the shoulders, their wrists still secured behind their backs with nylon rope. They were placed near a small natural bank, then their legs were tied securely. The other two, the king and the one who'd been knocked out were then dragged over. Andrea came over, and dragged the pig over by the militants and waited, when a thought occurred to her.
"Beau, that one you knocked out was trying to get into the pocket of king. Just of curiosity, see if there is something in his pocket."
"Thanks Andrea. I'd already forgotten about that" he said as he flicked open his pig sticker. He reached down and carefully sliced through the pocket from top to bottom neatly laying the fabric open. There in his pocked was a very small remote actuator.
One of the moslem 72 virgins of Paradise
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