6:00 AM, Thursday, August 13, 2024 Quiche and Huehuetenango Districts, Guatemala
The two men sat at an outdoor table on the patio of a nearby restaurant enjoying the home-style breakfast of eggs, tortillas, black beans, fried plantains, along with coffee. They chatted about mysterious bosses, in a general sort of way. Manny was careful not to give away any of his special training or the technologies being used in this little unaware village. He had been told that none of the Food First regulars knew about the extra protection of the warehouse, or any reason for its existence other than feeding those in need and helping local farmers to succeed.
"Mysterious or not," Francisco said, suddenly serious, "I think they are doing good things for the people here. Perhaps we can continue to grow and help even more people."
Manny looked at him over his coffee as he sipped. "I think you're right. All they're really doing, though, is encouraging us to work together and help each other. As long as we do that and don't have to run from…" he trailed off. He didn't want to say too much, but it was always a thought in every villager's mind. Gangs or soldiers could come and wipe a small village away in a week, no matter how well they were doing or how happy they thought they were. He looked down at his coffee.
Francisco also looked away, "Yes," he said simply. It was a reality they both shared. Neither man was old enough to remember soldiers coming in to raid Sacapulas, but they heard the elders speak of it. It wasn't so long ago. And the gangs, well, that was an even more present problem. "Well, we just do what we can, and pray for best with things beyond our control."
Manny nodded, but inside he wondered if there was anything beyond their control if they had all this high-tech gear and good planning. Perhaps…
"Anyway, it's time to get to work, You're route usually leaves early, and people will be showing up soon." Francisco stood up and reached into his pocket.
"Let me get this," Manny said knowing he was likely being paid quite a bit more than Francisco, even if he was a supervisor. Francisco shrugged and eyed Manny, coming to the same conclusion. He didn't know what Manny's regular job was, but it seemed like he might be a little higher up the ladder. They stopped at the counter while Manny paid, leaving a generous tip.
It only took a minute to walk back to the warehouse. As they turned the corner, they saw Juan Carlos, the other supervisor, unlocking the door. Two trucks were already parked beside the building, marked with the tri-lingual Food First Magnetic signs on both front doors.
"Looks like Jorge's already here, the Ford is his. Now, I just have to convince him to hand over the keys to his baby," Francisco chuckled. "I'm sure the triple pay and a rental fee will convince him."
Huan Carlos waved as they approached, "This the guy?' he asked Francisco gesturing at Manny.
"That's him. Manny Cruz, this is Juan Carlos de la Torre. He's the other supervisor here." The two men shook hands.
"A pleasure," said Manny.
"Yes, the same," Juan Carlos said inspecting Manny. He turned away toward the trucks and called out, "Jorge, can you come here for a minute?" His hand waving the man over.
Jorge, who was leaning on his truck talking to the other driver who was parked next to him, looked over, looked back at his companion, then slowly sauntered over. "What's up, boss? He said as he drew near.
Jorge, this is Manny. He's new. I'd like him to learn the ropes and drive one of the routes today. I was hoping we could rent your truck for the day and let him take your route."
"Rent my truck? I don't know… I mean, I need my truck…" he looked at Manny trying to figure out if he could be trusted with the most valuable thing Jorge owned. Then he looked back at Francisco sharply, "Hey, are you not happy with the job I'm doing, are you trying to see if you can get somebody to do it better? What is this?" He seemed to be getting angry.
Before Francisco could respond, Manny jumped in with a big friendly smile, "No, no, Jorge, from what they tell me, they really like the way you work. I don't think you need to worry about your job. I'm just here to give a report on the operation to the bosses, they wanted me to drive out to San Juan Ixcoy and see how everything is going in some of the villages, make sure the delivery gets to the people who need it, talk to a few people, see what they think of us, that sort of thing. I'm told they're even going to give you a bonus for today, to work here at the warehouse."
He looked at Manny suspiciously, then back at Francisco, "A bonus, huh?"
Francisco nodded. "I can give you triple pay if you can work here at the warehouse today, while Manny takes your route. It may be a long day, you'll have to work until he gets back. And we can also give you another hundred Quetzales on top of that for using your truck."
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her," Manny said.
Jorge seemed to be weighing the offer. "Maybe four times pay?" He offered, seeking to play his advantage.
"Three, or I can ask Marcos…" Francisco countered.
"I'll do it," Jorge said. He nodded toward the truck, keys are in it. The gate doesn't like to close all the way, give it a good shove and make sure it's latched before you go," he said handing over the keys to Manny. "What am I going to be doing here, then?" He asked, directing his attention back to Francisco.
Manny nodded, "thanks," he said as the other two men walked away. He heard Francisco telling Jorge that he could start by loading his truck so Manny could get on the road. Manny walked over to the truck and walked around it, checking the tires. All worn, but in decent shape. He absent-mindedly touched the ring on his right middle finger with his left hand. Then looked down at it. They told him that spinning it clockwise on his finger would activate it, counter-clockwise would deactivate it. He would activate it as soon as he was ready to pull away from the warehouse.
He watched as the truck was loaded, several hundred tortillas, five bushel baskets full of dried corn kernels, already removed from the cobs, a bushel of onions, and two of potatoes. A plain wool cloth was tied over the top of each basket with twine to keep the produce in as he drove over the rough terrain to San Juan Ixcoy, and a tarp was tied down over the whole load. When it was done, he climbed into the driver's seat of the old Ford Ranger. Rangers and the Toyota Hilux models were popular workhorses in the country. They could handle the rough roads pretty well.
This one had seen better days, but it ran well enough, a bit loud, a little smoky, but it started well, didn't show any signs of wanting to stall, and had no problem shifting. The gas tank had been topped off from a huge cache of five-gallon cans stored in a separate walled off section in the back of the warehouse, accessible by a hinged double door large enough to drive a truck through. This door was also kept padlocked when not in use. Gasoline was a valuable commodity and quite a bit was stored leading up to delivery days. Manny noted it as a vulnerable point for arsonists and a target for thieves.
Manny set off on the route that had been imprinted in his head last night during his mission-specific training. He had been up late, his head being pumped full of information about today's mission. His sleep, they told him, even though only three hours long would be enhanced through some new scientific method so he'd be fully rested and alert today. He doubted it in the five seconds it took him to fall asleep, but he woke fully refreshed and ready for action at 5:00.
He was to go to San Juan Ixcoy and drive up to an empty market area near the center of the village. There was no market held there most days, but it was a convenient space for distributing goods. He was told that his usual contact was a priest named Father Dominguez, who would meet him when he arrived to organize the distribution. Usually accompanied by a small crowd looking to take a share. It would likely go differently today, but Manny should act like that's what he expected.
It was a long, slow drive over bad roads, but he finally arrived around 11:00 AM. He pulled his truck up to the usual spot. There was no small crowd, in fact the entire square was empty except for two men sitting in the shade against the wall of a small building adjacent to the market. They both eyed the truck, grinning. They finished cigarettes as he pulled into the parking spot and got out of the truck making a pretense of looking confused as if searching for Father Dominguez.
"The priest isn't coming today," one of the young men sneered as they started walking toward Manny and the truck.
"Yeah," said the other, "we're here instead."
"I was told to meet Father Dominguez…" Manny began before being cut-off mid-sentence.
"Well, we're telling you something different, and you'd better listen. Look at us, you know who we represent, right?" both of the young men had muscular builds, and Manny noticed the tattoos on their arms, necks, and even a few on their faces. "You get new orders today, man." He walked over to the driver's door nudging Manny aside. He made a show of inspecting the magnetic sign on the door. "This is no good." He reached over and peeled it off, tossing it frisbee-style across the open square. "Jesus, get the new signs," he told his partner before walking around to the other side and discarding the sign from the passenger door.
Jesus picked up a flat cardboard package sealed with a bit of tape in the middle of each side. He thrust it aggressively into Manny's stomach. The shield from the ring stopped the corner from hitting him a half inch away from his skin, just contacting his loose shirt. Fortunately, Jesus didn't notice. "Put these on the truck," He ordered, staring directly into Manny's eyes as if daring him to refuse. Manny remembered to look afraid, and averted his gaze from the stare, looking instead down at the package in his hands. He peeled the tape from three sides and lifted the top sheet of cardboard to reveal a bright white background with the words "COMIDA DE LOS PUEBLOS HUISTAS." Exactly as expected by the intelligence briefing he received last night.
"Listen, these signs are pretty expensive, so make sure they stay on this truck permanently. You understand me?" Jorge nodded. He turned and applied the first sign to the driver's door, then walked around to the other side and did the same for the passenger door.
"Now, we're going to take this food to a town that needs it more. Get back in," said the first man, whose name had not yet been revealed. Manny did as he was told, climbing into the driver's seat of the old Ford. The other two climbed in from the passenger side. "Get this rust-bucket moving we're headed to Petatan. You know how to get there?" The unnamed gang member was seated by the window with Jesus crunched in the middle. The unnamed one seemed to be in charge.
"Petetan? Yes, that's a long way…" Manny began.
"You got nothing else to do, today. Get going." The leader snarled, reaching for a cigarette.
The windows were rolled down, but with the two gang members smoking, the air in the cab was soon full of smoke. Manny was surprised that when he inhaled he got only fresh air, no hint of the cigarette smoke. He couldn't even smell it. He remembered what he had learned about the shield ring, that it would block some foods from entering his mouth and reasoned that it must be doing the same with the smoke, while somehow allowing clean, purified air to pass through. Amazing, he thought. Having worked in one of the big mines in the mountains, choking on dust all day, he imagined such a device adding years of good health to his former coworkers. But he needed to stay focused, these were dangerous men.