VENEZUELA DIARY PART 4

I gulped. How much do i love her? i thought to myself. Maybe she is happy? No i couldnt. There wasnt anything else for it. My life would be over without X by my side. i supposed at the time i thought i couldnt replace her in all the world. 'Markus, i must go there and find her. Will you at least help me prepare? do i need some men? should i go alone? Where can i buy a gun? knives? rope? Where is their hideout? My mind was conjuring up some big Goblinlike caves and torches and Indiana jones style skulls everywhere...if only i knew then what i know now....

'Y' Markus put his hand on my shoulder. Weapons you can buy anywhere here in Merida. We supply the drug lords here, the rebellion in the west, the mining companies, you name it. This is Venezuala, Y. But please reconsider. i will have a think what i can do to help you prepare, and meet you tomorrow at noon at the ice cream shop in the plaza. If you change your mind, which i recommend, please, lets have a beer, call the police, and at least we did our best for her family. If you want to go ahead. I will have some things prepared that will help you.

I still wasnt sure. The odds were crazy. Even if i got to her, maybe shed been brainwashed already. The only thing for it was to rest, have some food and a beer and sleep on it. i hit the local steakhouse, and sank a few Polars. The bar next door was an easy next step, as the demons were already on my shoulder about what to do. It was a pretty bare affair but there were a few people around, mostly rough looking wife beating kinda guys, and the furniture looked like itd seen a few scraps in its time. The barman looked quite normal, unusually for up here, so i ventured to ask him about the 'Roja'

'Meester, you shouldnt come here and ask about thees things' he looked genuinely scared. One weasely face looked hard at me from a few stools along. I realised, like stamp collecting or penis size, talking in public about it was a bad idea. A beer later weasel man came sloping across to my stool. He looked at me like i was a giant tortilla that he wanted to eat and was wondering how to begin. 'your woman is already dead' he licked his lips and walked out.
shaken, not stirred, but resolved, i decided to follow him.

he walked round the corner, his bell bottoms looking slightly silly, and as he turned to go into a street cafe, he saw me. As he walked towards me with the gun pointed straight at me i could see his evil eyes glinting off the artificial light. Quick as a flash it all went off. He was near enough for me to use my crack martial arts training and give him a quick Glasgow kiss - smack on his nose. He was in shock. A quick couple of extra jabs and an uppercut, and he was bent double, the gun on the ground. I kicked it away, then picked it up. I was off....

At least it had made up my mind. No Latino Pussy was going too worship my girl and kill her, they were crap.

VENEZUELA DIARY PART 3

The rain poured down. Not like Glasgow rain, real tropical rain, raindrops like big wet warm pebbles. I enlisted the barman, who seemed to have a beef with Hose and his crew. After a fair bit of money (well i just became $10k richer so i could afford it) it turns out there are some freaks up country who have a thing for red hair, so they've been kidnapping redheads for years. Hose was just a middleman. The barman reckoned he saw her first but Hose got the money (abut 2 years wages it turned out) so he too had an incentive to track her down.

The bus to Merida was 18 hours. The air conditioner leaked drips onto me every 30 seconds, and the movie had a sound and light that was just bright and noisy enough to keep me awake all night. i figured to think positive, this would give me time to think....

Wildlife paradise and outdoor adventure heaven. Could have fooled me. It was a poor looking little city, although by the time i arrived, i hit the first hotel i found - i could sleep through the schreech of cars driven by blind drunk locals scraped againts the high pavements, and the intermitent gunshots that rang through the nights, as drunk revelers let off steam, and settled old scores.

In the morning i made a beeline to one contact id found on the internet. As it was saturday i met him at his house. Markus was a nice enough guy. The old German had been up here for years. Professor of Divinty at the university of the Andes, he had his old spectacles into quite a few local goings on. he had a glint in his eye and i bet quite a few stories to tell....his wife, a pert little local girl half his age was fine enough and im sure kept his roving eye in line. 'So my young freind, quite a predicament we have here ya' his German accent still strong as ever, he started as we sat down for coffee in his pleasant dining room overlooking the city. 'the Culto Chica Rijoa' or the 'Rijoa' as its locally called - it has a long long story. They say the saint Hernandez had a beautiful daughter via immaculate conception, with one daughter of an indian chief, down in El Derado region. The daughter had red hair and blue eyes. Something never before seen there, and so she was worshipped as a God. Anyway, seems a few creeps gave her the Marylin Munroe treatment - she was killed and preserved, and 'worshipped' in a very different way, while the general populace still worship Red hair to this day. Anyway, seems they kept a taste for this red hair thing, so they regularly take them when they find them - they pay a fair bit too, so what you said about the waiter cetainly rings true.

Its likely they took her up to their place away south in Los Rauros, theres a quite remote region down there where theyll basically spoil her and worship her as a God for some time, butter her up, massage her ego, then when she doesnt suspect it, kill her and i think you dont want to know the rest. But be warned, these guys are the law down there - this is Venezuala my freind, its a poor country and the Rijos are very rich and powerful men. The good thing is you have time. She will be well treated until she is killed, which may be two or three weeks depending how quickly she is brainwashed. As soon as she starts beleiving she is a God, then its wham, they kill her, and the hunt will be on for the next one while these beasts satisfy their necrofile lust until she rots and her arms and legs begin to fall off.

I must have been sweating. What the hell had we got ourselves into? At least there was a chance of finding X unharmed. i didnt want to think of the other consequences but at least i had some 'stick' as well as 'carrot'....

'Will you help me Markus' I blurted it out. Why not. I'll need to go down there. Im right in thinking that i wont have any help from the law, so i suppose ill have to take it into my own hands.

' I cant come with you Y. Forgive me. I have a young son by Margarita here, and to be honest. These guys frighten me. I've heard of even crazier things going on down there. They dont just worship red hair, there is somthing more sinister going on, im sure of it. When they kill you its maybe a good thing, when they keep you alive.....well. Some men are truly evil Y. You are a young man, i understand you are in love with X. But please consider carefully if you will go after her. You will almost certainly meet a fate worse than hers. She will lead a happy two weeks then die suddenly. You will see hear and feel Hell for a long time before you die.....