Short Story by Caleb Sweeney

Guards in watchtowers searching over the desert plains, looking in the bushes and other shrubbery for illegal immigrants. Spotting intruders day in and day out in the hot texan sun. They are here, looking for drug smugglers and immigrants. About 10 miles from the Mexican border lives Jose Enrique. He is well known by the border patrol, but not for being a good mexican citizen. He is one of the main suppliers of illegal drug transportation across the countries’ borders. Recently, he received a call from one of his clientele in the states. He wanted some drugs. There was a whole line of people waiting to buy off of him and he needed it fast. A letter came in a week later from him that read:

“Dear Jose,

How are you doing today? Is the business still going strong? It better be because I need some goods now. I have a long list of clients in need of it. I have no doubt in the world that I won’t get what I need at the price I am willing to pay, but we need some way to get across the border. They have cracked down a lot on searching vehicles at the border. There must be some other way of transport. Anyways write me back on any ideas you have.

Hopefully we can get this deal through, Steve Nielson. “

Jose spent a couple of hours just staring at the letter hopefully to come up with some answer. Jose only sent drugs through vehicles. A change in strategy was at hand for drug-smuggling Jose.

A couple days went by and Jose came up with a few ideas of transportation and wrote his client back.

“Dear Steve,

Hey, I think I know a way to catch those gringos off guard. After I received your letter I tried to brainstorm ways of transporting the weed, especially since I usually use car transportation. Back in the earlier part of my career I used an underground system of tunnels, which worked very effectively. One of those tunnels was found last spring, so that may not be the best possible route. A couple of weeks ago my buddy got caught by catapulting weed over the border. That might be an option, as long as we don’t hit a guard with it like he did. My last idea was sneaking into American harbors with a boat. I think the boat option is probably going to be the most efficient way of transporting.

Give me your opinion via text message and we’ll follow through with the plan, Jose Enrique.”

Jose waited patiently for a response from Steve. Two days later Jose received a text message from Steve telling him to follow through with the boat transport and that the deal would be done the next day.

Jose spent the afternoon getting ready for his trip. He attached his black speed boat to the tow hitch on his truck. He packed the weed in the life jacket compartment in the boat. He grabbed his scuba diving gear and a drybag just in case something were to go wrong. He got in his truck and headed for the coastline. As he neared the Gulf, he received a text message from Steve reading:

“Hey, just wanted to check in on where you are at and if you are still ready to go through with this plan? I am planning on leaving the money for you under the boardwalk in a briefcase. Please take the money out of the briefcase and put the weed in it. No one will know. Thanks a lot; I will contact you when everything is in the right place.”

Jose arrived at the mexican beach at 6:00 and watched the sunset over the water. Once the sun went down he launched his boat into the ocean. He loaded all his equipment and supplies into his boat and took off into the horizon.

After 4 hours of boating across the Gulf of Mexico, Jose finally stopped the boat right outside of the border patrols spotlight over the water. They hadn’t seen his boat yet. He put on his scuba gear and lept into the water with his drybag on his back, with the weed in it. He sunk down in the water and started the swim to shore. He could see the spotlight hit on the water above him, so he sunk even deeper. Minimal light was down there, but he used his headlamp to guide his way towards the shore.

He swam and swam and swam for what seemed like an eternity. Luckily for him the tide was rolling in towards shore, giving him an extra boost. He heard a boat drive over the top of him; it stopped. He stopped moving, still under the water, listening for a splash into the water of a patroler. A couple minutes went by and he finally heard a splash. He took off swimming faster and faster, following the light of the headlamp towards shore. Swimming as fast as he could made him very tired. He stopped to catch his breath and saw a light off in the distance. Swimming towards him. He sunk down behind a plateaued reef, waiting for the light to swim past him or turn around. He continued to wait, he looked at his watch it was 11:30 he needed to get to the shore in around an hour or 2. He needed to be able to get back to his boat before daybreak. He decided to keep swimming even though the light was getting closer and closer.

He reached the shore, and gave a quick glance surveying the area where he landed. His GPS told him the briefcase was about a quarter mile to the left of him. He saw the amusement rides lit up along the ocean coast. He started walking towards the boardwalk. Almost there, he heard someone shout.

“Hey, hey you! What are you doing here?”

Jose reached for his pistol and continued to walk toward the boardwalk. The man, who didn’t receive an answer shouted again.

“Hey, Stop! What are you doing? I said stop.”

Jose took off toward the boardwalk on a dead sprint. The man shouting at him chased after him. Jose kept going glancing over his shoulder every now and again to see where the man was. He was slowly gaining on him. Jose fired a shot at him and kept running through the darkness towards the boardwalk. He finally reached the boardwalk and hid behind a pillar, scoping the beach for his briefcase. He moved from pillar to pillar, hoping to find the briefcase. The man chasing him entered under the boardwalk with a flashlight in hand looking for the man he yelled at. Jose saw him and thought to himself, I have to shoot him, then find the briefcase quickly. I need to do it. Jose drew up his gun and aimed it at the man. His flashlight was coming nearer to Jose.

The light was almost on Jose. It hit Jose’s gun barrel, and before the man could say anything Jose fired a shot right at his head. A perfect shot. The man dropped instantly.

“Now for the briefcase”, said Jose.

He searched closer to the beach and finally found the briefcase. He transferred what he needed to transfer and left the beach swimming towards his boat. He continued to swim low like he did to avoid the spotlight before. He swam through the water, deeper than before, hoping to avoid the border patrol.

Around 3:30 the next morning he arrived at his boat. He got in the boat and drove off back towards mexican waters. at 8:00 he arrived at the marina, loaded his boat into his trailer and drove off. He arrived at his house soon after. There was a letter in the screen door reading.

“To the residence of Mr. Jose Enrique,

We are questioning why you were found illegally crossing the border on the night of August 4, 2014. We know you were smuggling illegal drugs into the United States of America. We are investigating this at the moment, and will be at your house shortly to take you into custody. Crossing the border is illegal and you have defied us, the American Border Patrol. We chose not to shoot you or take you into custody, but you have taken the lives of one of our own, so we have no other choice but to take you into custody and execute you in Guantanamo.

In the best regards, and have a great last day of your life, The United States National Security General and U.S. Border Patrol Captain, Steve Nielson.”

Once Jose finished reading, he sat in his house and waited for the American government to seize him in his Laz-e-Boy.

#shortstory