On The Border

On The Border, Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

A few weeks passed, and Reid continued to improve.  He could move without pain, and had his wind back.  Reid had pushed himself, tested himself, and felt he was as ready as he was likely to be.  He and Hunter had talked more about their plan, as far as it went.  They had debated some of the specifics a few times.

Hunter was still trying to persuade Reid that the time for acting like a policeman was over.  "You go by the book, you're not going to get anywhere.  These guys rewrite the book whenever they don't like what it says."

Reid nodded.  "I know, and I'm willing to go outside the lines, but I'm not going to just go in shooting.  We need to work out a compromise or this isn't going to work."  Both men were clearly frustrated.

Hunter finally said "Ok, how about a trial run?  We do something kinda small, see how we work together, go from there?"

Reid looked skeptical, but leaned forward slightly.  "What did you have in mind?"

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There had been a great many evolutions in the decades of the so-called Drug War.  In an effort to deter drug dealers and producers, legislation was passed that allowed law enforcement to seize the property on which illegal drugs were found.  Nothing if not imitative, drug dealers started co-opting distant corners of public park land.  The out of the way location helped prevent accidental discovery and, if police or federal agents did finally discover the illegal crop, well, they weren't really likely to take parkland away from the government, were they?

This had also led to all manner of devices being discovered along various rural trails, from things designed to scare off the curious to actual lethal booby-traps.  Some park rangers were bought off, some suffered horrible accidents, and some were simply realistic enough to know not to go to certain areas of their domain.

Aside from occasional news articles, which faded over time, little was done about this as little could be done about it, practically speaking.  Some of the setups in the distant edges of the supposedly public land grew more and more elaborate, with all manner of hidden buildings, security, and even quarters for the workers.  Eight miles or so from Eagle Pass, Texas, lies the Kickapoo Indian reservation.  The reservation hosts the Lucky Eagle Casino, but there is not a lot else that draws people in much of the area.  

The Cardoza cartel had briefly explored the possibility of coming to an arrangement with the tribal government of the Kickapoo, and been told to go elsewhere in no uncertain terms.  However, some of the other areas out there were not rigorously patrolled, and even some stray corners of the reservation itself were fairly empty.  This was one of the places Hunter had heard rumors of, and, after first bringing up his idea with Reid, had gone scouting.  He had found a great deal, and was now showing his finds to a somewhat awestruck Reid.  "How do they get away with this?" he asked.

There were drying houses, rows and rows of marijuana plants, irrigation systems, small buildings, and even a security force.  Reid had laughed at first when Hunter had told him that the guards rode pedal-powered BMX bikes.  Hunter had pointed out that the bikes required no fuel, made no noise to attract attention, and kept the guards in good shape.  They also didn't provide a sheltered spot to tempt them with napping or taking multiple cigarette breaks.  Reid had finally agreed that it was actually a fairly clever idea.