driver introduced himself and they motored towards town. "We're stopping at Banner Good Samaritan Medical Center on the way to the office. Sheriff Lenard is visiting a former deputy who was beat up last night."
Jimmy looked a Rizzo. "Lot of that going around."
At the Medical Center, the driver said to go to room 324 and ask for the Sheriff. They arrived at the room and peeked in. "Is Sheriff Lenard here?" Rizzo said to several officers standing around the bed.
"I'm Lenard," the sheriff said taking a step towards them.
Sheriff Sam Lenard looked like a lawman right out of a John Wayne western. Heavy set, pushing 210 pounds, his sandy colored hair complimented his dark, steely eyes. The wrinkles around his face told the tale of years of law enforcement stress in the dessert.
"Detective Rizzo from LVPD to pick up a prisoner."
"Come in," Lenard said.
Rizzo and Jimmy shook hands all around. They alternately took hard glances at the patient. His face reminded them of the palavering Wendy took.
A few minutes later, Lenard said his goodbyes and took Jimmy and Rizzo with him. The sheriff discussed what happened to his friend Sanchez while they walked through the Medical Center.
"He was my deputy for ten years before he took a desk job with the Bureau of Land Management. He thought it would be less dangerous. The people that beat him up wanted him to deed some land purchased by some corporation without producing an environmental impact report for a solar farm."
Rizzo wondered, "Someone must have serious money tied up in the land."
"And know some nasty people," Jimmy added recalling his mob background.
They stopped at the hospital's entrance waiting for his driver. "Boys," Sheriff Lenard started, "The prisoner won't be processed until later this afternoon. I apologize but sometimes crap happens. I can put you up in a hotel for six or seven hours or I can take you on a helicopter ride. I need to see for myself what's so special about the land Sanchez's took a beating for."
Rizzo turned and looked at Jimmy. "Have you ever flown in a chopper?"
"Can't say that I have. Flying in them looks cool in the movies."
"Well boys, this is the plan. We'll fly down to a border patrol station. There we'll meet two agents, one border patrol guy and another one from the BLM. After we survey the land we'll come directly back. We should be here in time to catch the 4:45 flight back to Vegas with one ice-cooker in tow."
"Sounds good," Rizzo said as Jimmy phone indicated a incoming text message from Sugar.
Jimmy opened the message. It read, 'Possible, VIP's want to leave early. May go to Chelsea's Pony Farm. See U 2nite?' Jimmy showed the message to Rizzo.
"Chelsea's Pony Farm," Rizzo laugh.
The sheriff turned around and looked into the back seat. "You guys go there?"
"Sometimes, to bust crack heads in their parking lot," Rizzo said. "We know a couple of showgirls that do a little escorting for the Galaxy VIP's. They might get dumped tonight by their VIP dates in favor of Chelsea's."
"Those VIP's probably did Sugar and Tonya a favor," Jimmy added.
Lenard stared at them and said, "Sugar?"
Chapter 16 The US Border
Jimmy answered Sugar's text, 'we're in Phoenix & should be back in time'. "That's my first text from a helicopter," Jimmy said grinning.
The helicopter flight to the outskirts of the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge went smoothly. The three exited the copter and introduced themselves to BLM's man, Chase Cartwright and Border patrol agent, Todd Wagner.
Chase looked like a pencil pusher with long skinny limbs, slicked back, dark hair and black, horn-rimmed glasses. Todd sported a healthy tan on his five foot, eight inch muscular frame. Both Chase and Todd dressed in active-wear, field clothes. Todd pointed the group in the direction of his green and white, Border Patrol, SUV.
"Thanks guys for meeting us," Sheriff Lenard said.
"Glad to be of service," Todd answered. "All the agents I know admire the work you're doing fighting illegal's and their drug trafficking. Anything we can do to help. We're here for you!"
Chase joined in, "Sanchez is a friend of mine. He's visited the Refuge several times. We both wonder what the buyers are going to do with this God forsaken, border land."
"It sure is hot and bright. Maybe they want to dry grapes into raisins!" Jimmy said trying to lighten up the conversation.
They drove southward for about forty minutes into the Refuge and stopped on a knoll overlooking the Rio Grande river. They got out and walked around, stretching their legs. With their backs to the a river bed, they admired the wide open vistas to the north.
Todd motioned the other four over to look at the ground. He pointed out what looks like cow tracks. "Smugglers," he says, pointing to the tracks leading into the U.S. "They put cow-shoes on so they won't leave footprints."
"Cow-shoes," Jimmy smiled. "I really am a city-slicker. I have no idea what cow-shoes are."
"Don't feel bad. I didn't either until my assignment here," Todd said.
Rizzo asked, "Are cow-shoes like horse shoes except for cows?"
"Don't look at me. I'm just along for the ride," Chase said.
Sheriff Lenard knew where Todd was taking this, so he played along. "Are they shoes made from cowhide?"
Todd was enjoying this. "Cow-shoes were used by Moonshiners during prohibition to disguise their footprints. A footprint trail would lead Elliot Ness and his Untouchables directly to their illegal operation. They used cow-shoes to trick the feds so they wouldn't find their country stills."
"You mean smugglers read history books dating back to the '20s?" Rizzo asked.
Jimmy heard a something whizzing by his head. Todd and Lenard saw the puff of dirt come off the ground ten feet behind and to the right side of Jimmy. Their cop instincts kicked in. "Gun fire. Duck behind the SUV."
Rizzo pulled his Glock 30S pistol as they dove. Two more puffs of dirt and the five were pinned against the SUV.
"That won't do you much good," Todd said. "Those guys have scoped, Heckler and Koch G36's compliments of our government."
"Are we talking Fast and Furious?" Jimmy asked.
Todd scornfully nodded his head, yes. "These drug cartel idiots use us for target practice. Lucky most of them jam their rifles after a few shots. We find rifles on the trails, jammed and broken all the time."
"You think we can wait them out?" Lenard asked.
"Do we have any weapons besides our hand guns?" Rizzo asked.
"Funny you should ask," Todd answered as three more rounds hit the side of the SUV. "They gave us new Barrett 50 cal Airsoft rifles with scopes and
