12 [BEFORE]

The crossing of the two tractor-paths in the Caña fields were the favorite place for Eduardo and his thugs to meet stupid, wanna-be American investors in this Columbian Coca business. The dead bodies were easier to toss away here, and the Orinoco crocodiles  that lived here loved the meal. While his three, armed ‘hombres’ were standing around, bored, Eduardo was getting perturbed.

“Eschuchame bien, my friends… who cares about the people who buy la Coca? This is business, amigos; they want to buy, I want to sell, es todo.”

The strange trio of very-white, very-bald, very tall, very lithe-looking men in very-white tunics were standing in the scorching sun, and they didn’t seem concerned about a sunburn. Their faces were emotionless, unlike the obvious twist of frustration in the eyes of this drug lord.

“Harm to children and… communities?” asked the white one in front. The voice was oddly musical.

Eduardo had enough. “Amigos, do you want to do business… or no? I have many other offers…”

“Clarity, we have,” said the third very-white behind the other two. All three began to raise their hands in a gesture… Eduardo’s body-guards reached for their weapons, but… suddenly were frozen, in-place. So was Eduardo, eyes wide open, unable to even blink… statues in the hot Columbian sun.

“Extreme examples of infection,” spoke the very-white front-man, as they turned in unison, gliding into a misty cloud that had come up behind them… “come with us for further study.” He turned to the frozen narcos, “to our ship you will be brought shortly.”

“Gratitude” intoned the three very-stoic figures in unison, and the trio were suddenly gone. The four narco-traficantes, unable to move, now noticing how the Columbian skies were beginning to swim and swirl in terrifying, fire-like pastel colours…

crisbaj

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‘The Last Last Lecture’ is copyright ©2018-2021 by crisbaj. All rights reserved. No reproductions, reprinting or reposting without express permission of the author.

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