The Road To Rio.

Meantime, Beth and I were staring at the remains of my cellphone. Julio had snatched it out of my hands and smashed it against the wall.

Deb:  You owe me three hundred and fifty Yanqui large ones for that, loser.

Beth:  The hell with it, tell Bill, he'll get you a Sprint PCS phone.

Julio:  I should kill you for that.

Deb:  Kill me for what, making a call or being smarter than your assholes
and getting the damn thing in here in the first place.  If you kill me,
will my ankle stop hurting?  You're such a freaking apostle of mercy, go
right ahead.

I could see Beth was falling back asleep.  They were putting something
in the gruel, but I was so messed up it wasn't affecting me.  Beth was
bagging enough z's for the both of us.  Maybe it was to keep the sound of
Sam's voice fresh in her mind.  I could hardly blame her.  Hearing Billy
had made me shake inside with reaction.   This place, where we were being
held away from our men, made me wish I could do an adequate Bette Davis 
imitation.

Beth:  Deb...what time is it?

Deb:  Don't have a watch, kiddo.  Could you favor her there, Taco Grande?

Julio gave me a tight little glare.  I should have been afraid of this
clown, but I couldn't manage the emotion.  I sensed that he was more afraid
of Billy.

Julio:  Ten thirty, my dear.

Beth:  "Long 'bout six thirty or so tomorrow morning...you may wanna duck.

Julio:  At about six thirty tomorrow morning, querida, I will have the
pleasure of tearing Guillermo's cojones from his body and feeding them to
him.  Perhaps I shall allow you to watch.

Deb:  Perhaps Billy's gonna rip your nuts off for ya and stick 'em in your
ear. THEN he'll give ya to Sam and you'll curse the day your mama
was whelped.

Julio:  Sam?  Who is this Sam?

Beth:  A big dog.

Deb:  Damn big dog.  Every bit as big as Billy.

Beth:  My big dog.

Julio approached Beth's cot, an intent look on his face.  The light was 
dim and she was stretched out on the cot, in no small state of disarray, her
little knit top molded tight to her body.  I remembered Billy's question.
I knew Julio found me anything but attractive, and my sloppy Fort Hays
State t-shirt would do nothing to attract his attention even if he had, but
Beth's strappy little retro 70's number was just the ticket.  The guy had
a light in his eye that was making me nervous, and she was crashing and 
burning right before my eyes.  I hardly thought a little thing like 
consciousness would stop him if he got it into his head that he wanted her
enough.  The sound of Sam's voice had made Beth wistful.  The tender look
on her face was encouraging our Banana Republican.  He stared hungrily
down at her, reached out with two fingers and laid them on the top of her
breast, right where it began to swell outward.  He began to draw them down
toward the warm crevice just visible over the neck of the little top.  He
was holding his breath, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Beth:  Sam?

Julio:  No Sam.  But somebody who could make you forget your Sam, if you
would allow it.

Beth:  Never...ever forget Sam.

Deb:  Keep that hand in gear, there, Senor, you'll wish you could
forget him.

Julio:  Is she not Strannix' woman?

Deb:  Nope, not for years.  This young lady you're so cheerfully groping
belongs to one Samuel P. Gerard, Deputy United States Marshal and all
around Hardass, lock, stock and barrel.  Also heart and soul.

Julio:  Teresita, querida...this is true?

Beth:  Lock...stock...an'a barrel of rum...

Julio looked nonplused.

Deb:  Aaaahhh!  Y'got the wrong one, dincha, dumbass!!!

Drunkenly, Beth attempted to remove Julio's hand, but she didn't get
far.  I wondered if she was completely convinced that Julio wasn't really
Sam.

Deb:  Hey, yo...BETH!!...roamin' hands and rushin' fingers there, girl!

Julio:  Try again, querida.  As for you, perhaps you might tell me why I
should continue to allow you to draw your ration of air.

Deb:  Cause you're a chickenshit wussy and Billy'll tear you apart.

Beth:  Better watch yourself, there, Jules.  That's Bill's girl.

Julio:  This...THIS...is Guillermo's woman???

Deb:  I have that honor.

Julio:  Dios mios!

Beth:  No shit.

Deb:  You'd better talk it over with God, cause you're gonna go see him
damn quick after my Billy gets you.

Beth:  Style, class, fire...just Billy's type, eh, Jules?

Deb:  You are totally ripped out of your effing skull.  Look here, Julie,
you wanna get your goddam dirty mitts off the girl's funbags, there?  She
can't seem to tell you to so I will.  Beth...Julie-boy here is trespassing
on the Samster's turf...wake UP!!

I reached across to boot Beth's cot with the only foot I had available 
to me at the time, the one attached to the broken ankle.  I didn't know 
if the kick got her going or what happened next...which was me unleashing a
godawful howl.  I sounded like a shot dog, and probably felt like one.
About five junior thugs tumbled into the room like puppies, wondering if
the sound constituted a threat to their jefe.

Beth:  I'll be damned!  It's Menudo!

Julio was taken aback, first by my yell, then the invasion of the idiot
boys, and finally by Beth's happy bellow.  A small but strong hand
attached itself to his shirt collar, dragged his head down.  He was
surprised to see Beth's eyes completely lucid.

Beth:  You know how they warn you about trespassing, don't you, Jules?

Julio:  I am afraid I remain unacquainted with many of your quaint Yanqui
proverbs.  Perhaps you would enlighten me.

Beth:  Gladly.  Pay attention.

Deb:  Close attention, or else you're gonna have one big problem,
Julie.

Beth:  Beware.  Of the Dawg.

Billy and Sam had taken a...chartered...flight to Colombia.  Another of
Billy's military contacts, character by the name of Brad Little with a chip 
on his shoulder big enough to see with the naked eye, had flown them down
in a 'borrowed' Apache helicopter gunship.

Santa Marta one of millions of provincial centers the world over, had no
facilities for the Apache.  Billy told Brad to take the Apache back to the 
barn, with thanks and a couple of suspicious looking packets.  They would
catch a commercial flight back.  Billy never entertained any other
possibility, though it occurred to Sam that he might have to ride back to 
the States with Deb in the passenger cabin and Strannix in the cargo hold.

Billy jumped into the street, rather effective way of hailing a cab.  The
fellow driving this particular vehicle had a stereotypical look to him.  
He was the patient peasant who took a bullet within the first ten minutes
of the movie starting, whether he wanted to or not.

Billy:  You look like you could use a fare, Pancho.  You know the
house of Senor Julio?

Pancho stiffened up like a board.

Pancho:  All of Santa Marta knows the house of Senor Julio, Senor.

Billy:  Damn straight.  So you know how to get out there.

Pancho:  Si, Senor.  I could find this house.

Billy swung into the back seat, and Sam followed suit.

Billy:  So, take us there, Sancho.

Sam:  Pancho.

Billy:  Sancho, Pancho, whatever the hell.  Drive on, muchacho.

Pancho:  But...Senors...I am afraid I am off duty.

Billy:  So, the cab company won't get none of the fare.  Get a move on.

Sam allowed Billy to handle the transaction, but his patience drained
away steadily as Pancho and Billy played dumb and dumber.  His fists were
the first indicator Billy had that Gerard was on a slow boil.  They clenched
and relaxed, clenched and relaxed almost in a cycle.

Billy:  You wanna put your foot in it, Pancho.  My associate here ain't 
half as understandin' as I am.

Pancho:  Senors...my family.  You are the rurales?  The policia?

Billy:  He is.  I'm just a man lookin' for his woman.

Sam punched the seat back.

Sam:  Drive.  Tired of waitin' on ya.

Billy:  Rock on, rocker.

Pancho was petrified, that much was plain.  But he was holding his
ground.  If pure mulishness could stand up against Billy's bluster and
Sam's quiet rage, then nobody was going anywhere.

Pancho:  For the last time, Senors, I am off duty.

Billy:  That why the light on top of this shitheap Chevy says different?

Pancho:  The light is shorted out, Senor.  I am off duty.

Sam unloaded on the seat back again.

Sam:  I said drive.

Billy:  Ya didn't say please.  Mr. DoBee says always say please and thank
you.

Sam:  Mr. Sam says blow it out your ass, Strannix.  Listen here...I got a
woman down here waitin' for me to come find her.  I know where she is but
not how to get there.

Pancho:  I wish I could help you, Senor.  Mi esposa is waiting my breakfast
Senors.  I'm sure you will find someone willing to drive you to the home
of Senor Julio.

Sam:  You just pulled out of the damn garage and flicked on that light.  I
saw you!

Billy:  Gerard, maybe he's scared.  I mean, I dunno why, but maybe he is.

Sam:  Fine...let's give him a little moral fibre.

Sam jumped out of the cab, ran around it and pulled the driver out.

TO BE CONTINUED...