Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival (26 page)

In the next few minutes, Bishop secured himself to the pole-ladder using his belt and made a makeshift rope from his pack straps. He managed to swing the
pseudo-rope over the edge of the rail and pull himself up. He did a chin up, threw a leg over the rail, and pulled himself over onto the steel mesh walkway surrounding the billboard. He was covered in sweat and just lay there for a bit. After a pause, he pulled his pack and rifle up and sat with his back to the billboard, partially covering the huge letter “E” in “Endless Salad Bar.”

The sign had been designed for men to climb up the pole and change the adv
ertising. The steel mesh floor that surrounded the big billboard was only 30 inches wide. Bishop was sure that the maintenance men had some sort of safety line that attached to the rail in order to work with less risk. He had no such line, so he walked slowly around to the other side and looked down at the buildings below.

As he surveyed the exit he thought
, This place was probably not one of the more popular stops, even during good times.
There were two gas stations on opposite corners, a fast food joint, a small hotel, and of course, the steak restaurant. A few other buildings were scattered up and down the road, but Bishop had no idea what they had been. The parking lot of every business in sight was packed with vehicles, except the hotel. On all sides of the hotel, it looked like the cars had been pushed by a bulldozer into a neighboring field.

He was about 80 feet in the air and less than three football fields from the closest building. The vantage point was perfect.

Bishop moved around to the other side of the billboard, pulling a box cutter knife from his pack. He carefully sliced the bottom 40 inches of the vinyl sign for about 10 feet in length. He slowly peeled it off, getting all of the “Endless Salad Bar” lettering. The irony of thousands of starving people looking up at an advertisement for a steak eatery was not lost on him.

He rolled up “Endless Salad Bar” before going to the other side. He pulled out a bag of very sticky brown goo, pinesap gathered from a tree at Nick’s. He u
sed his finger to dab his glue along the top of his Endless banner and stuck it in place over the top of the same lettering. He let the bottom of his attachment hang loose. After cutting a small hole at the bottom of each end of his banner, he threaded in a short piece of line with a fishing hook at each end. A quick test proved he could secure the bottom of the banner to the mesh floor to keep it from flapping in the wind. He took his pack and rifle and pushed them against the base of the sign under his “tent.” Lifting the bottom up, he rolled underneath it with his back to the board. He had made a small lean-to, and from almost any angle, the sign would look normal, even with Bishop hiding underneath it. If someone were to study it, they would assume the bottom had started to peel off or was just fraying out. He positioned his notebook, pencil, and scope right where he could reach them and cut a small slit in the vinyl to spy through. He then took his beef jerky and water and tucked them behind his back. He adjusted his pack to be a pillow and thought taking a short nap now would be wise.

He didn’t think he had been asleep long when a distant popping noise woke him up. The noise repeated several more times, and it took his sleepy mind a few seconds to realize it was gunfire. He could make out three slightly different tones of the sound, which he assumed were different types of weapons. The noise continued on and off for almost 1
5 minutes, and then stopped.
Somebody is having a bad night
, he thought as he drifted back to sleep.

When he woke up, he had to urinate very badly and laughed at himself for not having a plan for that. He could pee through the wire mesh floor under him, but didn’t know how far the urine would fly given the height and breeze that was blowing. The sun was just starting to rise, so it was light enough for anyone looking up to see. He figured he didn’t have any choice, and undid his zipper. He slowly worked himself a little more sideways so that he could put the tip through an opening in the mesh floor. He relaxed and let it go, sighing with relief. He looked down to see his stream flowing with the wind at least 30 feet.
What an arch!
This gives a whole new meaning to the term “pissing contest.”

There would be no hot coffee this morning, but he had a drink of water and chewed on beef jerky. He had taken the big scope off its rifle, and it was sitting next to his head.
He looked at his watch, 6:40 a.m. He observed his surroundings in the daylight to get his bearings and make sure he had not missed anything significant during the night. He quickly noted that there were three over watch sentries. All three of the Hefei’s men were on different rooftops, and within sight of each other.
Smart
.

For the rest of the morning, Bishop watched people wander around
, noting nothing of interest.
This probably looks identical to what thousands of refugee camps have looked like throughout history.
He began sketching all of the buildings and their features. He also did his best to sketch the guards, noting the weapons and other equipment they carried. As he documented the scene below him, the gloom and suffering of the place seemed to fill his mind. He was watching two children roll a tire around in the dirt when both of them stopped their play and looked up. He moved the scope in the direction of their gaze, and what he saw was completely out of place.

Two young ladies were walking out of the hotel together and smoking cigarettes. They were clean, with well-coiffed hair and impeccable dress. They were both tall, attractive girls who looked like they just stepped out of the local shopping mall. They chatted
while casually making their way to the fence surrounding the hotel swimming pool. Walking a step or two behind them were two men who were clearly bodyguards. Bishop could easily determine their function by how their heads were constantly looking around instead of eyeing the pretty girls beside them. The gals addressed another group of young men, pointing and issuing orders. Bishop was fascinated as he watched the men set up folding tables and chairs complete with red-checkered tablecloths.
We are going to have a picnic
he thought. Before long, a large barbeque grill was rolled out, and smoke was meandering skyward.
No, it’s a good old fashion Sunday BBQ. I wonder if the coleslaw is any good.

The aroma of the smoking meat drew quite a crowd from the neighboring campers, and they headed for the BBQ in droves. When Bishop looked back at the tables, he could see several men had formed a perimeter around the area to keep the gathering refugees away. Within an hour, the crowd surrounding the BBQ was several people deep. He didn’t notice any pushing or shoving; it was as if everyone were standing and watching a parade. It wasn’t long before the attention of the crowd turned toward the hotel again, and Bishop was rewarded with h
is first view of the Hefei.

The
Hefei was a large Hispanic who Bishop estimated was 6’5” tall. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless leather jacket. He was heavily muscled with a clean-shaven face and head. He walked out of a room and waved to the girls as Bishop recorded his room number in his notebook. The Hefei made his way down the stairs, and with a security contingent in tow, proceeded to the grill.
That’s how he maintains control
, thought Bishop.
The man can smoke up a batch of ribs that just can’t be beat.
Bishop noted the bodyguards, their numbers and their patterns.

After t
he Hefei made sure all was well at the grill, he walked over for what appeared to be a somewhat private conversation with his bodyguards. About that time, Bishop heard several engines start on the other side of the interstate. From his angle, he couldn’t see exactly where they came from, but all of a sudden, eight motorcycles were heading for the underpass. They stopped right before going under the bridge that carried I-10 over the road. He couldn’t see what was happening under the bridge, but after a few minutes, the bikers put their machines in gear and started heading toward the BBQ. Bishop watched as they came out from underneath I-10 on his side and proceeded to the hotel parking lot. The put their kickstands down and all but one of the bikers stood beside their machines, pulling their rifles around, but keeping them pointed down. The lead biker walked up to the Hefei, and they sized each other up, exchanged a handshake, then gave each other a less than enthusiastic shoulder to shoulder hug. They talked for a bit, and Bishop would have given anything to hear the conversation. He could tell from the body language of the guards on both sides that this was no picnic.

A
door at The Steak House opened, and men started unloading boxes of food and what looked like freshly butchered racks of beef. The meat was thrown on the grill, and the side dishes were distributed to the tables. The Hefei continued to talk to the leader of the pack, and Bishop noticed several hand gestures by both men. This tête-à-tête continued for some time until the Hefei turned and waved in the direction of his hotel headquarters. A door to a room opened, and two men were shoved outside. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and Bishop could see they wore similar jackets to the bikers. The guards escorted them down the hotel stairs where they were brought before the two leaders.

The biker king turned and waved at the bridge. Someone yelled, and Bishop heard another engine start. A pickup truck began to follow the same route taken
earlier by the bikers. In the back of the pickup truck were three men on their knees with hands tied behind their backs.
I am watching a prisoner exchange
.

The
exchange was completed without incident, with the ex-prisoners hustled away from the party.
It’s never good to have undesirables at such a nice social gathering
. The conversations continued until the meat was sufficiently charred, and then the Hefei and his guests ate voraciously while hundreds of starving people watched in silence. Bishop couldn’t understand why everyone just stood there and watched.
I would at least walk away rather than be tortured like that.
The guards took turns eating and keeping the crowd back. As soon as everyone had their fill, it became clear why the crowd was standing around. The men who had set up the tables began gathering the paper plates full of scraps in their arms, and then throwing them into the crowd of refugees.

People scrambled, pushed, and shoved for the remnants of the meal. Bishop saw one older lady fall. Everyone just ignored her. The
Hefei sat up in his chair and enjoyed the show. With the girls at his side, he would point and laugh at the fighting masses. It took 10 minutes before the feeding frenzy was over and the crowd began to disperse.

Someone put on music, and the two girls
moved to the table closest to the Hefei. They started dancing with each other and tried to get the Hefei to join them, but he waved them off. The girls then went around and danced for the bikers, who were hooting and hollering and reaching out to grab them. Someone brought out bottles of booze, and the biker king offered up a box of cigars.

Both groups
drank, smoked, and watched the girls dance for almost an hour. Suddenly, the Hefei commanded the music be turned off and the mood became somber. The girls left and all but the most important people went and did other things
. It’s time for a serious discussion by the big wigs
. Bishop watched the dialogue back and forth go on for almost 30 minutes. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the body language and motions made it pretty clear. He was watching a peace conference, and you only had peace conferences if there were war.

An agreement seemed to be reached because suddenly
handshakes were exchanged and hugs were more genuine. The underlings were waved back to the table area. More food and drink was brought out and the music started again. Bishop saw one of the hotel doors open, and the two girls came out, this time in bikinis. He could hear the hoots and whistles from the big, happy family all the way to his perch.

The girls didn’t waste any time
. After throwing back a few, they proceeded to work their way around the various clusters of bikers and bangers, dancing up a storm. It wasn’t long before their tops were off, increasing the party’s tempo.
Honestly, Terri, I didn’t know they were going to have strippers at the party.
The Hefei stood next to the biker king and waved the girls over. Both of them bounced over and got on their knees in front of the smiling lead biker.
Probably want to double check that he didn’t drip any BBQ sauce on his jeans
. They proceeded to unzip the man’s pants, and Bishop could see that they were each doing their best to impress him. After a few minutes, the biker looked up at the Hefei, pointed at the blonde and nodded. The Hefei made a sweeping gesture with his hand that said, “Be my guest,” and after a quick zipper adjustment, the happy biker and the blonde proceeded to a room.
Sometimes it’s good to be King. 
 

The brunette sidled next to t
he Hefei, but he pushed her away and waved in the rival gang members who had been watching the show with great interest. The boys were hesitant at first, but then all seven of them strutted over, and the Hefei shoved the dark-haired girl at them. Bishop could see she was not happy about this, but at this point really didn’t have any choice. The riders started groping her and passing her around, trying to kiss her, and touching anywhere they wanted. She started to fight, trying to walk off twice, but it was too late. Two of them picked her up, carrying her up the stairs, kicking all the way. All seven went into a room with the girl and closed the door.
It pays to be a winner.