PART TWO

The discovery of the cocaine drop on my property occurred on a work day. Boy was I excited to get to work and share my story. What totally surprised me, was that several of my co-worker, fine upstanding local citizens, took me aside during the day to let me know that if I were holding back a bag of cocaine, they knew someone who would buy it from me. Did I ever feel left out of the loop. I knew of no one, unless you counted my co-workers.


Only two bags were recovered out of the 17. Mine that I gave to Mark and one that landed in my neighbors garden in full view of ground support. Oddly, that year several people in the area suddenly got mysterious inheritances and quit their jobs.


Mark came by my work to tell me that the cocaine tested almost pure and that it could have killed me had I gotten a good whiff. He also said it assayed out to about $3,500,000 street value. I was a momentary millionaire. I asked for the duffle bag as a souvenir but it was considered evidence. Shucks.


The next day, the fellow I previously mentioned that was serving time in jail, appeared in our lunch room. Ben had been paroled the day before. His parole officer told him of the big doings in his home town and asked if he knew me. I do not know how my name made it across the state so quickly and was a bit alarmed that it had. Ben hoped I had withheld a bag and offered me $250,000 for it. Guess people thought I was more clever and less moral than I really was.


I told Ben that he was one of the main reason that I turned in the ONLY bag. The illegality of the whole thing had a lot of bearing also. Ben and I had a long talk about his future but I am sure today he is either in jail or dead. The lure of the big money was too much for him.


When I went home that afternoon, my property was a mess. My horse was wild eyed and covered in lather. Tree limbs were laying all around. It appears DEA had sent a low flying helicopter over the drop path the drug plane had taken looking for the 15 missing bags. My property was heavily wooded and I emphasize the" was" for it was now battered. I was later told that from the air, you could see the path the chopper took from all the broken tree limbs.. I was a bit ticked off for they could have had total foot access to my property if they had only asked.


Mark was forced to resign for his repeated forays into catching the bad guys. He was given the choice of quiting or being transferred to a desk job in Miami. A true injustice to a fine man. It is often hard to fight the good fight. He is now living in Alabama and out of law inforcement.


When I left that little town it was almost squeaky clean. The importers tend to seek new drop locations as sites start getting too much attention from the DEA. Wonder if that is why I chose a mountainous location when moving to Arkansas. No places to land an airplane might have been in the back of my mind. Now if we could only get the Meth labs closed here.