A Smuggler’s Story: An action-packed tale of the early days of Marijuana smuggling. Ride along as four country boys take the risks and pay the fines for living through the times of getting high and tuning in.

A Smuggler’s Story: Action/Adventure

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BLURB: A Smuggler’s Story

An action-packed tale of the early days of Marijuana smuggling. Ride along as four country boys take the risks and pay the fines for living through the times of getting high and tuning in. If you like bull riding, fast cars, and crazy cowboys, you’ll love this fun-filled sometimes bitter, sometimes sad, story of what it was like to be in the middle of the drug running business. From the war in Vietnam to the War on Drugs, it covers the feelings of many of those that lived and died during those times. Find out by who and how the notorious bloodthirsty drug cartels were formed; the shocking truth of how they came by the weapons needed to take control of the land of drugs and routes they needed to bring them to the United States.

Excerpt: A Smuggler’s Story

Rafael had just finished watering his Marijuana plants when he heard the helicopter coming. For a minute he thought it was going to fly right on by, till it made a quick circle and came to a dusty landing at the edge of the plot. Goats feeding in and around the clothing hung on a line in the yard behind his small house were sent scattering in the wind. Two armed Mexicans and one gringo stepped from the stripped down Huey helicopter.

“Buenos Dias.Do you speak English?” the gringo asked Rafael as the dust settled from the spinning rotors.

“Si señor,” Rafael answered as he studied the gringo’s face hidden behind the mirrored sunglasses.

“Good, I hate to have these interpreters doing my talking. I am officer Baker. We were doing some aerial surveillance and noticed your field of Marijuana. You do know it is illegal to grow it here in Mexico, don’t you?”

“Oh no, señor, no one ever told me I could not grow this.”

“Well, it is,” Officer Baker replied. “I am here as an advisor to the Mexican Police Department on how to deal with this drug problem. Now, we have a couple of ways of doing this. One, we can take this copter and spray your field here with this chemical called paraquat; it will kill everything it touches and leaves your ground worthless, or we can work something out where everybody gets a piece of the action.”

Officer Baker loved his job. He had thought the military was the life for him. When he was accused of stealing supplies from the army base where he was stationed, his attitude changed. Given the chance of an early out or court marshal, he decided a different career was in order. Luckily for him, the base commander was willing to sweep everything out the door instead of having to go through a court case that wasn’t going to make anyone look good. When a job opened up with the U.S. government to help transfer a bunch of extra Huey helicopters back from active duty in Vietnam to the Mexican Police Force, he jumped on it. Still a little shocked they hired him, he was quick to take advantage of the situation. Officer Baker had found a kindred soul running the Mexican War on Drugs Program. They both knew the war was lost before it even started. It was a mutual agreement to turn this golden opportunity into a cash cow. They had come up with a plan to use the equipment given to them by the U.S. government to their own advantage. Why settle for the meager income their respective positions paid when they had the chance to become rich?

Officer Baker said, “Now, here is what I am willing to do for you. I can overlook this patch of contraband and we can come to some agreement on a price to do so, or I can tell the pilot to spay your field and turn you over to the local law enforcement.”

Rafael knew he was caught between a rock and a hard spot. Losing his crop was bad enough, but he knew a ride with the local policiawould most likely be a one-way trip.

“Now, I don’t want you to think this is the end of the world.” Officer Baker continued. “What I have in mind is more like forming a union for you growers. You can call it a ‘cartel’ if you like. We will have someone show up to help you harvest. They will brick up the pot into kilos. A twenty-five dollar fee will be paid on each kilo you produce, and of course you will be expected to spilt the money you get from your buyer. For this, we allow you to keep growing and also provide protection from any further harassment by any law enforcement or from anybody else.”

“I don’t see I have much of a choice, señor.” Rafael said, looking into Officer Baker’s mirrored glasses.

“Well, I guess you don’t. I’ll expect to meet your buyer soon. I will want him to start handling some of our other products for us too. If he doesn’t handle Cocaine and Smack now, I’m sure he will when he finds out the money that can be made. We can even arrange a no worry crossing at the border for an additional fee. Here is a number you can reach us through. I’ll be expecting a call. Have a nice day.” Officer Baker signaled the other officers and Rafael was soon left standing in the dust from the departing helicopter.

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