Continued From The Previous Episode: Season-1
Six days later, I was on the move for Central America.
I’d bought all I needed and packed them up in a big suitcase and a box. The suitcase was for my personal stuff, but the box was for the guns and boxes ammunition. Getting the guns through customs at LAX airport, Los Angles being what it was, was difficult but my Honduran visa and other papers, proof that I was going hunting, helped greatly.
My flight was direct to Mexico City, the only city in North America where a direct flight to Honduras could be found and there were only three such commercial flights a week. Apparently, Honduras, in addition to being too small, was too poor and lowly populated a country to sustain any form of major air traffic.
The stopover in Mexico City lasted nearly three hot hours and then I discovered that the first-class ticket the travel agent had bought on the Honduras bound flight was actually for an old cargo of a plane that never would have made it into the fleet of any commercial airline in the United States. Hell, it didn’t look like it could make it into the air without some major help but people were getting on with much faith so I did too. My first-class ticket didn’t mean a thing on the plane, I barely managed to get a window seat due to my quickness but it was towards the middle of the plane, right over the right wing of the plane.
Staring out the window at the glittering private jets parked around the airport grounds, I found myself regretting the decision not to hire one from the US in the first place, it certainly would have made things a lot easier. The problem was that a private jet would have cost a lot of money and I hated throwing away good money. Call it the poor man syndrome if you like, but I’d been poor for too long and rich for too short a time to just want to do stuff like that without a second, third and fifth thoughts at least. Moreover, I was going to a very poor and lawless country where such a thing wouldn’t be right, I had done my homework well. Arriving in a private jet would have rung a lot of bells, alerting every criminal in a hundred miles, which I sure didn’t want. The country would be much easier to enjoy and explore as an ordinary man.
Soon after I got seated, two arrogant looking big black guys took the seats across the gangway from mine. A few more passengers come on board but no one took the seat next to me, probably because I was the only white guy on board like I gave a shit.
Just as I was starting to think my skin color had good benefits and the first-class ticket would be worth some comfort, after all, a remarkable looking lady came walking down the gangway.
It wasn’t that the woman was expensively dressed or anything like that, no. Her clothes were simple enough, it was her. Clearly Latino with at least a drop or two of African blood, she was very good looking with a thick mass of long black hair that reached below her shoulders. She was big in build, well above average height. As she came walking down the gangway, she had her head low like she was used to ducking doorways due to her impressive height. She was wearing a brown knee-length dress, matching high heels and a black overcoat that hung wide open to reveal a very voluptuous well-endowed figure that looked like it lacked nothing. She walked beautifully on legs that were very shapely and straight, well balanced on the high heels. She carried a brown handbag over one shoulder and a midsized case in the other hand.
The woman came right up to take the seat next to me, putting away the case she carried in the overhead rack. She gave me a small shy smile as she sat down and I returned it. Her hips were big and wide as were her backside, they filled the seat completely, pushing out against the sides. She adjusted her dress, pulling it down to cover her beautifully rounded knees as she made herself comfortable. She took another quick look at me before settling and facing forward.
I took a deep breath to stabilize my suddenly rising blood pressure and let it out slowly. This could just be my lucky day, that bloody first class ticket could prove useful after all.
The pretty air hostess soon came down the gangway, speaking in Spanish, telling everyone to fasten up their seat belts for takeoff. In a minute, the plane started to move. It taxied down the runway and was soon airborne.
Soon after I loosened my seat belt and relaxed, I noticed that the two big black men in the seats across the gangway were bothering the lady sitting next to me. The more she tried to ignore them, the bolder they got. The one sitting in the outer seat was openly giving her signs that they should go off together to the rear of the plane where the toilets were.
Jesus Christ in Haven! I thought. These people had no manners at all.
The woman glanced at me with embarrassment and lowered her eyes.
“Would you like to switch seats with me?” I asked in English.
She shook her head and smiled politely.
“No, thank you, sah…” She said softly. “That won’t be necessary.”
“It looks very necessary to me,” I replied with a meaningful nod across at the two bastards.
She smiled shyly again. “I really wouldn’t’ want to bother you, sah..,”
“It would be no bother at all, but it could help your situation greatly,” I said.
“Then I would very much like that, sah…” she replied.
I got up and moved out, giving her space to make the shift. As I sat down in her seat, I gave the two shiny faced bastards across the gangway a hard look. Neither reacted but they both quietened down.
The woman was staring out the side window fixedly. There was nothing to see out there among the white clouds, which meant she sure didn’t want me bothering her either so I didn’t even try.
A steward soon came walking down the gangway, handing out cans of drinks and snack packs to passengers from a trolley. When he got to us, he winked at the woman and said something quickly in Spanish nodding in my direction. I didn’t catch what he said exactly but saw her embarrassed look and the quick glance at me.
I turned to the steward at once.
“You’d better mind your business, tozo,” I said in a hard voice. “Move on.”
The steward was a short brown-skinned guy with handsome looks. He looked at me in surprise, clearly not used to insults from passengers who were mostly ordinary folk to be toyed with. He didn’t make the mistake of replying me but moved on quickly.
I glanced at the woman. “Sorry about that.“
She gave a slight shake of her head like she didn’t know exactly what to say, smiled with embarrassment and turned to stare out through the window again.
I shook my head in wonder. This was Latin America for you. The whites, the blacks, the Latinos, they were all the same, little respect for their women and full of racism. In California, it was bad enough even with the law parked on every street in fast police cars but according to my research, it was worse down here in Latin America and the laws and traditions often supported it. I was now finding that out for myself, first hand. Well, there was sure going to be an incident soon enough because I didn’t stand for shit like that.
I drank up the can of juice and ate the snack, then relaxed back into the seat to get some sleep. It was a long flight and I sure needed the rest having been awake for more than a day across time zones. The woman was still sipping at her can of juice and eating the snack slowly, staring fixedly out the window.
I soon slept off.
When I came to again, the plane was flying lower and it neared the approaches. The woman was asleep now. I got up and walked down the gangway to a rear window where I could get a better look.
Below was a vast canopy of green crisscrossed by blue ribbons. Yes, this was the Honduran version of the mighty Amazon Jungles and its numerous rivers. There were heavily forested mountains and valleys which, some held low hanging clouds but none looked like it had been touched by man. It was all virgin rainforest even from above, not a single clearing in sight as far as the eye could see.in every direction.
I felt the excitement begin to build up within my belly then a certain disappointment as I realized I would probably never see the woman again. Or perhaps there was a way.
I went up the gangway again to my seat. The woman was still asleep. I took a look at the case above in the rack, saw the tag and memorized the information on it.
Her name was Miss Natasha Del Rio.
To Be Continued…..
*Adventures of a tough American millionaire going hunting in the dangerous Amazon jungles*