Page 10 of Pierre
“What’s with the grin?” asked his teammate.
“Nothing,” said Pierre, tucking the device back into his pack.
“Nothing? That’s not nothing. That’s the grin of a man who’s had sex or is in love. Or, dare I say, both.”
“It’s nothing new. Not to me. I’ve been in love with her for a long time. She’s a childhood friend and neighbor,” he said quietly.
“Hey, man. I think that’s great. Love didn’t work for me, but it doesn’t mean it’s still not great.” Pierre stared at the big, burly man. He wasn’t as tall as Pierre, but he was wider, solid. He reminded Pierre of a young Bull. “What? Don’t you think I was in love once? Okay, four times.”
“Four? You were married four times?” asked another Ranger.
“Yeah, dumb ass. Four. I was confused, and obviously so were my ex-wives.”
No one said anything for a few minutes, just watching the chaos happening around them. They were told not to interfere. Not yet. They would be given the signal when the time came.
Night after night, they had a coffee and something to eat at this café, waiting for their target to come by. Seven days. Ten days. Finally, they had word that their target was close. While staring at the horror around them, Pierre was filled with gratitude.
Pierre rarely talked about himself or his family, which is what made him a great leader. He was more adept at listening than speaking. Which is why it surprised everyone when he spoke.
“I was born in this hellhole,” said Pierre, staring at the bedlam around the team. Destroyed homes, if you could even call them homes, littered the streets. Riots, looting, murder, drugs. It was a regular occurrence in this place that needed a serious restart.
“Here? Haiti? I thought you were from New Orleans,” asked his teammate.
“I am now. I was adopted by someone very special. My mother and father gave me a life I couldn’t have dreamed was possible. My life here was a living hell, and I would be dead by now if it weren’t for them.”
“I can see that, brother. This is not a place I would want to bring up children. I’ve never seen such abject poverty and crime,” frowned the man.
Pierre stared at the disaster before them. It was a disaster made from years of corrupt politics, war, decimation from climate disasters, volcano eruptions, every possible plague known to man had hit this small country.
“How was your leave?” asked another teammate. Pierre smiled inwardly, not wanting to show his excitement.
“It was good. A family wedding.” He didn’t bother to tell them he hoped the next wedding back home would be his own.
“A wedding? I’ve never enjoyed weddings much. It seemed like a lot of money and fuss for something that was going to end in a fiasco.”
“You didn’t even enjoy your own three?” joked one of the men.
“Four. And bite me, asshole. They were all misunderstandings. Sometimes, women don’t understand the commitment it takes to do this job, and they’re not very forgiving when you can’t call them all the time. Plus, one of them nearly put me into bankruptcy. She’d never seen a real paycheck before and thought mine was made for millionaires. I think I regret that one the most.”
None of the men said anything, knowing that he spoke the truth. Having a wife, or even a girlfriend, in their line of work took a lot of time and effort. Sometimes, too much.
“Pay attention,” said Pierre. “We’re about to get busy.”
They watched as Henri Dufregne walked toward them, like he was the president of the country. A dozen young men, some barely out of their teens, followed him to do his bidding.
There was no money to steal, no food to take, no property to loot. There was nothing. And yet, he found a way to move others out of his path and seemingly get anything he desired. And yet something about all of that didn’t feel right to Pierre.
The suspicion was that he was trafficking women and children. The problem was that no one could tell them who was missing or if anyone was actually missing. Children seemed to disappear from the streets on a regular basis but most had no families, or if they did, their families didn’t say much about their disappearance. Once again, Pierre was reminded of how lucky he was to have escaped this fate.
The missing children were reported by a local teacher who said many of the children in her school had disappeared. Pierre’s team was sent in to try and find out what was actually happening.
The six men were seated at a rundown café that only served coffee, two types of soda, bottled water, and chicken or goat patties. They were small, hand-held pastries filled with savory meat and spices.
The men settled their cups on the table and waited for the man to pass them. Dressed in civilian attire, they presented themselves as engineers working to rebuild the city. Their desire to be unseen wasn’t working.
“Ah, our saviors,” smiled Henri. “The genius engineers coming to our country to save us all.”
“We’re not saviors,” said Pierre. “We’re engineers hoping to rebuild safe, efficient homes with clean running water.”
