The Black Russian.

 

 

The Black Russian.   Chapter two.

 

The two seater Cessna 152 was cleared for take off and was soon up in the air heading east.. “Threehours?” the passenger asked. “Clear weather anyway.” he added. Bill Bressete was a big man, early 40's. Well muscled.

“About that.” replied Dave Willis as he adjusted his course a little. 'Yup, good weather anyway.”

“What were you doing in Sudbury?” asked Dave. “Or can I guess?”

"Go ahead. Guess” replied Bill.

“K. Seen you in MacDonalds last night. Recognized you from the Reserve. Assumed you had just

brought in a bunch of pot. Now assume that something went wrong and you did not have a ride home.”

“Yeah, something like that.” He was quiet a moment then said “Three hours to get back, no music in

here, my cell phone is dead. What better way to pass the time than talk? Goes both ways though.”

Dave Willis shrugged. “Fine by me. Usually these trips are boring.” then “Give me your cell. Can

recharge it here.”

Bill passed it to him. Dave plugged in the adapter. “K. Your turn.”

“Partially right. Not too good a crop this year. Wet Spring and all. Hell, you should know we grow it on

your land.”

Dave nodded. “Yes, looked pretty ratty until July.”

“Anyway” Bill continued “partner and I were not up to the pre-sold quota. Padded the buds with leaves. Filler. Probably only 5% but it was noticed. We already had some cash advances. We have supplied these guys for years anyway. Met as usual outside of town. Just getting dark. They had a new  guy with them.

Funny accent. He was in charge. Not a Brit accent but close. Anyway, he looked at the product and claimed 20% was junk. He was starting to pull a gun as we were arguing so I hit him. He dropped. I grabbed the bag of cash and ran. Heard a few shots as I was running. So partner is either dead or wounded or escaped. I hitch hiked in to town after hiding for a while. Hard to get a ride. Who wants to stop for an Indian at night on the highway?”

“What about your vehicle? Traceable?”

“Nah. Borrowed.. Partner makes it to the hospital with a gunshot wound, no big deal around here. If he is  dead..” he just shrugged. “Name of the game.”

Dave was silent for a while. “Interesting. But they know where you live. They may come looking.”

“No big deal. We can take care of it.” then “The almost Brit or whatever. He is one mean guy by the

looks of him. Not a big guy but just mean. OK your turn. Why do you keep those wild boars there?

Getting old for that stuff ain't you?”

“Old but not dead. 50 next January. The spirit is there though. Teeth all gone, plastic now, but all other

parts intact. Eyes giving up so probably last year flying. Shrunk from 6 feet to 5 foot eleven.185 lbs from 200. Age thingy is all. One lives with it. Adapts or gives up.”

He reached over and fished out a cigaret from the pack and lit it. “Smoke too much, drink too much.

Anyway the wild boars. Bought the 400 acres years ago. Ontario Land Tax sales. Retreat kind of thing.

Came with the mineral rights. Put up a few sheds alongside the old barn, razed the log house and built the bungalow. Liked the lake on the west of the property. Your res is just on the other side of it. As you well know. Anyway, I read about hunting wild boars in Texas. Game farm. Few other places also. Too easy, hunters said. They had no natural instinct, or not much anyway. So tried to import some. Too much expense and paper work involved. Finally managed to import some semen from a farm in Russia that bred them. Lot of hassle. My vet helped me. She is Russian or something. Speaks the language. Expensive to import. First batch failed. Second batch got lucky. 3 sows caught. 4 in each litter when they farrowed. 12 piglets. Male and female died early. Left me ten little pigs. 3 boars seven gilts. Bred them together about two years ago. Had enough then to fence off 200 acres and let them go.”

Bill asked “Money in it?”

“There is now. New, superior genetics is what most game farms want. Week from now have 1 boar and 5 sows going to Texas. Many orders for them. Demand is high. Shit!” He pulled the plane up sharply then leveled off over the flock of geese. “Should have been watching” he said.

'Oh well” Bill said. “Age thingy.”

They were silent for a while watching the forests below. Sun was up and looked like a beautiful day.

“So” Bill said, “were did you get your money? Land and new bungalow and imported semen and all?”

What?”

“What did you do before you moved up here?”

Dave looked at him a moment hesitating then he shrugged. I was in the British Merchant Navy. Missed

my ship in Nigeria. Hired on as a security guard for an oil rig there. On land. Lots of trouble with the locals. Got back to the UK after a few months. The company contacted me after a week or so. Another security job in South America. So I went. Mine security. They moved me around country to country. Wherever there was a problem. Spent almost twenty years around there. Colombia was the last place. Bunch of guys were dealing dope. Usual stuff. Big money. Anyway. I did not deal. Objected to it. Not too much I could do though.” He was thoughtful for a minute.

“Was in a bar one night when I was asked by this little old guy if I was interested in getting out of the ountry. With a good pay off. Told him I did not do drugs. Guy was from the DEA or working for them.After a month decided to talk with him and his boss. US Citizenship. Many dollars, if I told them what I knew. Which was a lot by then. I did. I was jailed with the rest. Three weeks later I had a heart attack and died. The DEA flew me in to the US in a casket. New ID all the rest of it. Got my money. Headed to Canada and and applied for citizenship. So here I am. Ex-security guard.”

“Bullshit!” Bill said “you are making it up!”

Dave shrugged. “My other version is I am an alien.”

Bill laughed out loud. “Prefer the first version!” then “They cannot track you? The ones you turned in? Security guard. Contractors they call them now”

Then he said “Cell phone is half charged.” he handed it to Bill.

He looked at his watch. Couple hours at least. Bill dialed and then shut it off. “No answer will call back.”

Few more minutes of silence the Bill asked “Why were you in Sudbury?”

“Mining deal. A company drilled on my place years ago. Found rare earth but not enough at that time to mine it. Chinese had just found very large deposits. Sold it cheaper. Some of the elements went down to $200 from $1000 an ounce. California mines price back then.”

“So what changed? What is it used for?”

“Rare earth is not rare. Some elements in it are used in cell phones, TV's and just about everything else in small quantities. Just getting it out of the ground and processing it has been cost prohibitive. But China keeps upping the price as they are the worlds largest suppliers. No one wants to be hostage. So mines are being re-opened worldwide. Now it is almost profitable.” He paused. “Anyway that is how it was explained to me.”

“Lots of money coming your way?”

“Hope so. Settled on 20 cents a ton taken out.”

“That is not much! How many tons a day?”

“Whatever they can take out. All goes to a processing plant. Every ton gives them an ounce maybe, of what they need. Then that has got to be refined again. Tons a day? Not sure. Trucks with a 40 ton capacity. 15 minute fill up. Running 24 hours. Few hundred a day for me? Half that, good money. OK. Your turn. Heard about the residential schools etc,. Were you there?”

”Nope. Bunch of perverts run those schools. Now they are having hearings for Christ sake! Healing the wounds. What a bunch of bullshit!” He lit a smoke. “We were down, taken advantage of back then. Will not happen again. Indians are supposed to be lazy. Smoke pot and are alcoholics. Living on government handouts. In our own fucking country yet! We own the land and the resources! We are a minority."  He took another drag on the cigaret and calmed down a little.”Time we took some of it back.”

“How would you do that?” Dave asked.

“We have an agenda. No bombings shit like that no confrontation. Did 5 years in the Canadian forces.Elite group. Probably you have never heard of it. No matter. Not the way we are going. Violence is not an option. Counter productive. We are going another way.”

“JTF2?” Dave asked. “P90 weapon. Created early 90's. But you are not going to tell me, right? How to reclaim your land””

“Right. Yes JTF2. You are a decent honky but some things are best left unsaid.”.

Bill's cell phone rang. “Yes?” he listened for a few minutes then said “OK.” and shut it off.

“Problems?” Dave asked.

“Thanks for telling me. About the mine. News from my woman at the res is that your small barn got burned down. Truck crashed on the gravel road about 5 miles from your place. Hit a fallen tree. Big mess, driver dead. Sorry about that. My partner called her. He is OK. On his way back.”

Dave clenched his teeth and slowed his breathing. He concentrated on flying the plane. Deep breaths.

Composed now he said to Bill “Shit happens. My export animals were in the small barn. Worst case

scenario they all perished. Best case scenario some escaped. The fence is on so should be OK.”

Few seconds later “Oh well, plan for the best and expect the worst.” then “What truck was it?”

“Let me check” Bill said. He dialed and talked a few moments then shut it off. “Old blue Ford half ton. Body they pulled out was a big old guy. All she knows right now.”

“Thanks. Has to be Seth James.”

“You know him?”

“Fired him two weeks back for abusing the animals. Was part time. Always drunk. But could be somebody else. Raised pot not far from the barn. Harmless shit so ignored it. Anyway will be there in couple of hours”.

Dave thought about what the Indian had told him about the deal. Did not seem right.

“I will call my woman to pick me up.” then said “James? Know the name. Son Jesse? Bad bastard! In jail for manslaughter I believe.”

“Yes. Think so”

They were silent, both lost in thought for the remainder of the flight. Bill soon fell asleep'

Hours later Dave shook the sleeping Indian.

“Getting close. Do not see smoke though.”

He throttled back and flew over the reserve and followed the gravel road east.

“I see the tree that was down, in the ditch, no truck though” Bill said.

Dave nodded. “Big tree. Probably have the truck in the wrecking yard by now.”

He applied power and went higher. As he passed over his barns he felt sick. Just a pile of rubble were the small barn had stood. Two police cars in his lane. The 3 officers looking up at the Cessna. He banked and lined up the plane towards the grass landing strip behind the larger sheds. He reduced power and made a relatively smooth landing, yawing a little in the wet grass.

He taxied closer to the shed that acted has a hanger and cut the engine. “Oh well. Home again.”

“How much I owe you “? asked Bill after they had climbed out of the plane. Dave shrugged.

“Just give me a truck fill-up at the res.”

“OK with me. You talk to the cops, I am going back to the road. Woman should be here soon.”

“K”, Dave said. He grabbed his bag and headed towards the police cars.