The Colonel
paused for another drink and then
closed his eyes, clearly exhausted.
Terri gave Bishop a look that said, “
Let him rest
,” and Bishop had to agree. After looking at his watch, he decided he had better get some sleep himself.
It was almost 2 a.m.,
and tomorrow promised to be
a busy day. He kissed Terri good night and went to the camper to lie down.
While Bishop and David had been carrying
the Colonel
back to the camper,
Est
e
bon Jul
i
o Belisario
peered out
the large picture windows of
the
Chisos Mountain
Hotel
. Despite everything that had gone wrong the last few weeks, he was s
till awed by the view. The lodge
had been built at the perfect location to take advantage of the unrivaled beauty of Big Bend National Park. As Estebon watched the last of the sun disappear to the west, he couldn’t help but think about the
parallels
between
this place
and his current situation
.
The initial reaction by
first ti
me visitors to Big Bend is, “W
h
y would anyone want a national p
ark here?” After a long drive across the desolate, un-noteworthy
Chihuahuan Desert
, crossing into the p
ark’s
well-marked
boundaries typically produces disappointment. The landscape is just more of the same. About the only point of interest is a slightly highe
r than average mountain, located some 19 miles after you pass
the p
ark’s entrance.
Emory Peak rises to over 7,000 feet above the surrounding desert floor. As one of the tallest points in the Chisos range, it is the very heart and soul of Big Bend.
To the south of the rocky crag
,
over 200 miles of the Rio
Grande
R
iver
serve
as
both the
border with Mexico
, and as
the boundary of the p
ark
.
The winding highway to the p
ark’s headquarters begins climbing the steep northern slope of Emory Peak using a series of switchbacks cut through the desolate rocky landscape. Ab
out three quarters of the way
, attentive observers begin
to notice
the presence of
plant life
,
and even trees further up the face of the mountain.
As
the road tops the rim of the mountain, the contrast is breathtaking. An enormous, fertile valley spreads out for miles to the
south. With over 1
,
200 plant species and abundant wildlife, the vista looks completely out of place when compared to the
sparse,
moon-like landscape just a few hundred yards behind. The vibrant green colors
on the path ahead
immed
iately bring to mind the phrase
“The
Hidden Valley.”
He was a man of seeming contradictions.
It was this
startling
contrast
with which
Estebon found similarities
between Big Bend and
himself
.
As he watched
the colors change on the exposed purple and red formation
s
to the west, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of brotherhood with
this
land
.
Just like the p
ark, Estebon’s ruthless, harsh exterior surrounded
what he considered to be the inner sanctum of a calm, peaceful man. Fate had determined that he be born into one of the harshest, most vio
lent places on earth
. That environment demanded that he develop a lifeless, desert persona in order to survive.
Nobody rose to the top of the Colombian M-19 organization at the age of 21 without being respected, and in his world, that was generally equivalent with being feared.
It wasn’t Estebon’s
ruthless actions
that had
allowed him to rise to that esteemed position however, it was his IQ.
Colombia was full
of desperate
, vicious
men who would kill
or torture
-
m
en with no moral compass whatsoever
. No, what separated Estebon from all the rest was his intellect. He
was known throughout
certain
Latin American
circles as a genius.
At times, h
e
could be quit
e
charming
as well
.
Just like the terrain that surrounded him, he visualized himself as having a rich, surprising interior.
Estebon’s
brainpower
was first recognized when he was a young teenager, working as a messenger
boy
for the Medellin cartel in the slums of Bogotá. He was waiting for
his pickup one day
at a cartel “count house
,” a place where receipts were tallie
d
. The man in charge
was frustrated because the laptop computer
used to convert currency
wasn’t working. Estebon bailed the
guy
out by simply calculating the answer in his head. The skeptical
boss
tested him on a few individual line items, quickly verified with a hand calculator
,
and decided to trust
the kid’s math. Estebon had not only been correct to the peso, he had saved the man
from a
serious beating
, sure to be delivered
if the report had been late.
At first
,
the older cartel members used Estebon
’s gift
for
entertainment. They would play games or give him puzzles to solve, but never anything serious concerning the business. Still, word spread about the child prodigy
and his amazing math skills
. Estebon was more than just a walking calculator though. He was extremely observant and his memory was f
lawless
. He remained a qui
e
t youth,
always in the
background
,
watching everything and learning from
the
exposure
.
Unlike most men of his age,
Estebon
constantly
observed and
analyzed the world around him. A
s
the United States and Colombian governments
began
systematically breaking
apart
the cartels, he became even more street-wise.
The primary lesson
that this conflict had taught him
was that direct involvement with illegal activities eventually leads to
having a black helicopter hover over your location. He could not help but notice that w
hen the rop
es
dropped
out
of
the sides, things ended badly
.
Estebon figured out that
a fringe involvement with illegal activities was
acceptable,
as long as you
maintained the proper political
allies
. For Colombia, at that time, the best recipe was
a touch of cartel involvement, a pinch of money laundering
,
and just the right amount of opposition political activity
. The lat
t
er helped
maintain the respect of underworld colle
a
g
u
es. The M-19 organization was
considered by most intelligence agencies to be a second tier, badly funded rebel organization. Their violent history was primarily associated with
overrunning
remote villages and
ambushing
random Army patrols. On occasion, the group had gotten lucky and scored some local headlines, but overall, they were a bumbling group of incompetents.
Estebon
found
out that the group was all but disbanded
due to
a lack of funding and leadership. He also calculated that the current government needed to appear as though they were working to achieve a coalition of sorts. Este
bon, through his cartel connections
, made contact with a few of the primitive M-19 cells and made them an offer – give him two months as the
ir acknowledged
leader and he would give them legitimacy
as well as fund the organization’s inevitable growth
. With a little pressure from his cartel friends, they agreed.
His second step was to contact the Colombian government and offer to rein in the rebels
in exchange for their being given
a fair share of representation
in the
assembly
.
The
general public grew weary of the constant barrage of bickering and escalating violence.
When t
he
newspaper
headline
“
R
econciliation
T
alks in
P
rogress”
appeared, the
president
’
s popularity
with the people
immediately
soared
,
as the citizenry breathed a collective sigh of relief
.
Over the next few months, Estebon maneuvered b
oth sides perfectly, and he soon rose as
a legitimate political figure
in Colombia. The common man
viewed him as a champion of the people while the cartel winked and nodded, knowing he was really their
guy
. The Colombian military really didn’t care
to know
who or what he was as long as he delivered on bringing M-19 to heel. When Estebon provided the American
DEA with
the location of certain M-19 cells, h
e
received
even more power and respect. When he
aligned himself with
the anti-cartel task force
, delivering
intelligence on certain cartel activities, he
became
untouchable.
Everything had been going very well for Estebon
until the terrorist attacks crippled
the United States
.
For years, the prevailing wisdom was
that if America
caught an economic cold, Latin America got the flu.
When America started sliding over the edge of the abyss, it was clear that most of Latin America would quickly follow, perhaps even arriving at the bottom before the great power to the north.
Again,
Estebon’s foresight
had been on target
.
A few weeks before everything had completely collapsed, he had gathered several of his most trusted men and left Colombia for a “Trade Exploration
Mission
” of northern Mexico and the southern United States. He had carefully studied the region looking for a defendable, remote location that would provide for the needs of his rather large entourage.
He sought
a
retreat that was
isolated
enough to be protected, yet provided for a reasonable existence.
His wife and daughter loved American National Parks
. Estebon’s
positio
n and wealth had already positioned them to tour
many of the popular
U.S.
tourist attractions. They had been to Yosemite,
Redwood, t
he Grand Canyon and
many more.
Estebon couldn’t predict how long the
injured beast
that
once
was America would
hold on
.
He also had to maintain some level of credibility with his cover story. The answer to all of his problems was
Big Bend
. He knew that
all
U.S. National Park
s
w
ere
somewhat self-sustaining
,
due to the Americans’
silly p
reoccupation with being “green.”
In addition to many of the buildings and infrastructure being solar powered, t
here was food and fuel stored in vast quantities
. T
he laws governing
federal
jurisdiction meant
t
here would only be the lightly armed park rangers as potential obstacles to
his relocating his operation there.
He estimated that the terrorist attacks combined with martial law would leave the park practically abandoned. He was again, correct.