The Blood Hike, page 2
‘Hello,’ I answered, my voice rough with sleep.
A long pause, then a voice from a life I’d long since left behind, full of a jarring, casual confidence. ‘Cable,’ the voice said, as if we’d spoken yesterday. ‘It’s Ricky Travis. Remember me?’
‘Ricky, wow, it’s been so long, mate. I haven’t heard from you since God knows when. It’s a bit early in the day!’
‘It has been a long time, mate. Do you remember we used to ride the quad bikes and the horses all the time? Do you remember those treasure hunts and adventures we would go on looking for Bigfoot and UFOs, searching for lost treasures and making crop circles?’
‘Yeah, mate, I do remember a lot of those things we did as kids. They were good times.’ I reply, trying to find some common ground.
There’s a long pause.
‘This is such a random call, Ricky. To be honest, the last I heard, you were dead. The word around our hometown was that you’d become a patched member of an Underbelly motorcycle club and then just disappeared. I thought I’d never hear from you again.’
‘Everything changed once you left, Cable. Everything was just different. You are lucky you missed a lot of that. I’m sure most people would prefer to forget about those days. Some of them remain in Kane. They never left. What losers Fuck ‘em all.’
‘What happened with you anyways, Cable, once you signed your life away and, became a military man? You’re really the only one who made it out of that shithole. I used to keep in touch with your dad a bit, ask how you were going, but I eventually lost contact with him.’
‘Mate, I appreciate you asking, but I’m more concerned about why you’re calling me at this time. Is everything okay?’ I ask.
Ricky’s voice lowers, sounding like a kid who’d found a treasure map. ‘Mate, I’m at the start of something big,’ he says, his voice a low, excited rumble. ‘An opportunity has come up, and I can’t think of anyone else who would appreciate it. We need to talk.’
My mind races, all the old, bad feelings about Ricky returning.
‘Cable, I’ve got it all figured out and you’re the only one I can really trust.’
‘Okay mate, let’s catch-up. Where and when?’
‘The Riverpoint Hotel, Tuesday at noon. I’ll buy you a beer, and I’ll introduce you to my fiancée. She’s a stunner, mate. Wait until you see her.’ He let out a low chuckle, a hint of something smug in his tone.
I looked at the phone, then at the moonlit emptiness of my apartment. What a strange phone call and did I really want to be a part of what ever this ‘opportunity’ might be.
Knowing Ricky, it will be some type of money-making scheme, or maybe he’s in one of those pyramid marketing organisations and he just wants to sell me some life-changing magical weight loss pills or cheap holidays. Fuck off. I swear he better not turn up trying to sell me that crap.
Although we were close as kids I felt that our time together as friends was completed, nothing more, nothing less. I always thought of him as a loose cannon. He was often the one getting me in trouble with my dad or the police. It was like he was obsessed with trying to be better than me. But he just couldn’t, we were very different people. Now I think about it, maybe it wasn’t admiration. Maybe it was jealousy …
CHAPTER 4
Soldier Boy
I arrive at the Riverpoint Hotel around the suggested time. The place is a modern-day watering hole for business types, as I walk in, I’m already on guard. Ricky waves me over from a corner of the whiskey bar, a loud, obnoxious grin plastered across his face. Sitting next to him, with her hand resting on his thigh, is a woman I’ve never seen before. She looks European, with long, fiery red hair and mesmerising dark-blue eyes.
‘Well, if it isn’t the man himself. Ladies and gentlemen of the bar, I give you the almighty Cable Martinnnnn!’ Ricky claps loudly, drawing the eyes of the entire bar.
‘Geez, calm down, Ricky,’ I reply, my voice a low warning. ‘Everyone’s looking.’
We hug. It’s a natural, unforced embrace, a fleeting connection to a past life. The Ricky I remember is a long-lost mate. But the man in front of me looks older, weathered.
‘Look at you, Cable,’ Ricky says, his voice thick with fake bravado. ‘You haven’t changed a bit. I bet you get all the pussy these days.’
Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about Ricky. He certainly doesn’t look like the young guy who would race me around the farm on foot or try to out-hike me on one of our Bigfoot adventures. His clammy skin, blurred eyes and bloated nose are signs of a hard life lived hard.
‘You’re looking well, mate,’ I lie.
‘Now, Cable, I brought along someone very special. This is my light in a dark world, my soon-to-be bride, Candy.’
He leans in and whispers, ‘Bro, I met this chick at a strip club a few weeks ago. She was the hottest girl in the place. Easiest pussy I’ve ever had. She drops those panties of hers anytime I want.’
Candy doesn’t even look up from her menu. ‘Ricky, I’m right here. I can fucking hear you, you moron.’
I extend my hand, but she knocks it away gently. ‘Oh, what’s that? Any old friend of Ricky is a friend of mine. Come here, handsome, and give me a big hug.’
‘So, Candy, is that your real name?’
She smiles, her eyes holding mine. ‘They call me Candy because I taste sweet. Like fairy floss. Would you like to taste me, Soldier Boy?’
‘It’s nice to meet you, Candy,’ I reply, my voice flat. ‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m just here for the chicken parmigiana.’
Once our meals are ordered, and drinks are on the table, Ricky opens the conversation with the usual small talk – what’s been happening, how’s life, wife, kids, what are you doing work-wise?
I can sense it’s all just filler conversation. He certainly didn’t ring me early in the morning and ask to see me after all these years just to hear how my life is going.
‘Ricky,’ I say as he starts to ask another random question. ‘What’s on your mind? What are we doing here?’
He takes a deep breath and leans in, his face serious for the first time. ‘Fine, Cable. I’ll get straight to the point. I’m in some serious trouble with some bad motherfuckers.’
I maintain eye contact. ‘Go on.’
He looks me in the eye, and the arrogance is gone. ‘I’m supposed to be dead, mate. Hiding away in police witness protection. But I’m not in hiding anymore. I left. I just couldn’t do it.’
‘I’ve been removed from society, given a new identity, a new place to live and exist. The Ricky you remember doesn’t exist anymore. He’s dead, there’s even a grave with my name on it but nothing in the hole. There, that’s the short version in a nutshell.’
‘Well, Jesus, Ricky, if that’s the short version I might need to brace myself for the long one. Let me just process all of that as I chew on my chicken, mate,’ I say sarcastically, stunned by what Ricky has just unloaded on me.
He lets out a laugh. ‘It’s exhilarating! I couldn’t keep living in that world. What’s the point if your life is hiding from life?’
‘Cable, did you hear what I just said, or are you too busy staring at Candy’s cleavage?’
‘Sorry, Candy, I wasn’t staring at your tits. Ricky just likes to put me on the spot. He has low self-esteem. It’s how he tries to raise himself up by bringing others down.’
‘It’s ok, I don’t mind,’ Candy replies, with a genuine smile. ‘I paid good money for these. Might as well get my money’s worth.’
Ricky slams his hand on the table. The glasses rattle, and the playful atmosphere vanishes. His eyes are dead serious now.
‘A car accident,’ he says, his voice a low, cold rumble. ‘That’s how they had me go out. A fucking car accident. I even kept the newspaper clipping with my obituary.’
‘The Australian Federal Police put me up in one of their safe houses, told me to disappear. The house was in this horrible outback country town in the middle of fucking nowhere. There were some sheep, a few cows and this annoying rooster that woke me up every fucking morning at the crack of dawn. I had nothing but a TV and my dick to keep me entertained. And the TV had very little reception, so obviously my dick got one hell of a workout.’
‘What does this all mean, Ricky?’ I ask, my voice low. ‘Why the fuck would you break cover?’ What? You’re suddenly reborn, you’re free now? Has something changed? I’m certain that when they hide you, it’s for life, new identity, new appearance. The forever agreement, a long-term agreement. You know, disappear, fuck off, don’t ever come back. Ricky Travis who?’
‘Well, yeah, it is all that and then some. You’re right, Cable, it’s a lifelong deal. I’m still supposedly in hiding right now back on that stupid farm, locked away with the TV and the rooster. That fucking rooster! I ended up stabbing it to death and eating it for dinner just before I up and left that place.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Ricky, stop making a joke of this. You have some serious explaining to do and most of all, telling me why the fuck you think it’s a good idea to have me involved now in whatever it is you’re up to. I knew I should have never crossed paths with you again; you’ve always been a fuck-up. Why would anything have changed now?’
‘Yeah, it’s my serious shit. I just couldn’t stand another day in that place, okay? New identity, new home, fake backstory ... It was driving me fucking crazy. I can’t pretend like you. I’m not a disciplined soldier. I’m life’s arsehole. I live amongst the shit and piss of society.’
‘Look, Ricky.’ I quickly try to retract some of my comments. ‘I’m sorry, you’re not a fuck-up. It’s just unexpected to have you drop this on me after all these years.’
I can sense that my judgement of Ricky has bothered him. He has always looked up to me. He always told me I was going to be the one to make it out of Kane and do something different with my life. I truly believe he wanted to be the tough guy, the hero but deep down he knew that just wasn’t him.
‘Hey, you two, put your heads together, smile for the camera, these are memories.’ Candy beckons as she snaps some pictures of me and Ricky with her phone. As the drinks flow more freely, I begin to see more of Candy’s personality: she has a caring side, standing up for Ricky whenever I have a quick verbal jab at him. She seems to genuinely care for him.
They met under difficult circumstances and are heading towards a long-term relationship or marriage. And yet throughout the afternoon and into the evening, she would approach me, sitting on my lap, rubbing her breasts close to my chest and face. We are well and truly tipsy at this stage and have been consuming the drinks much faster. I wondered what a beautiful young woman needed from Ricky. No offence to my old friend, he just had nothing going for him. He was overweight, in financial and police trouble, and completely lost in life. Why would she want to marry such a red flag? True love?
Doubtful. The soldier in me was on high alert.
During the evening, I find the appropriate time and ask Ricky some deeper questions about Candy. I lean in towards him once she has taken off for the lady’s room. ‘Hey, Ricky, do you really think it’s a wise idea for her to be taking photos of a dead man who’s supposed to be in police witness protection? And why is she all over me? It feels weird for your missus to be rubbing up on me. She seems down to fuck, mate.’
‘Don’t stress so much. I’m having fun. I get to fuck her whenever I want and she’s good company. I’ve been alone for years. It feels like I just got out of prison. Surely you can understand my need for companionship, even if based on lust and bullshit.’
‘I get that, mate, but wouldn’t it be easier to just go into a massage parlour, pay for a happy ending or even hire someone for a few hours if you wanted? This whole marriage stuff and telling her every detail of your story, it just doesn’t sit right with me.’
Showing no real concern for my apprehensions and our current conversation, Ricky breaks into more of his story and his time under police witness protection as Candy returns.
‘Dilbert,’ he states loudly, ‘they re-named me fucking Dilbert. Those detective pricks made up my new identity and a new back story. What woman wants to suck the dick of a dude called Dilbert? I bet they were all laughing their heads off down at the police station that day. But I’ll get the last laugh.’
‘That’s what your new name was, Dilbert?’
‘Yes, Cable, why do you always question the same thing I just fucking said to you?’
I respond with laughter at this ridiculous name, and both Ricky and Candy join in. The sound of it, loud and unfiltered, is foreign to me. It’s a sound that doesn’t exist in my empty apartment or on the isolated trails.
And here I was finally having some fun outside of my man cave, not on a hiking trail but socialising with people. So tonight, I’m just going to have fun and not take anything too seriously. I really need to relax and let the night unfold and not try to control it. What could possibly go wrong?
As day turns into evening and we become more intoxicated, Ricky opens up about his time away and his recent past.
‘So, I want to ask you something, Cable,’ he slurs with an over-serious look on his face. ‘Do you know the reason why I went into witness protection?’
‘No fucking idea, Ricky,’ I reply. ‘I wasn’t going to ask because I’m sure you would tell me eventually.’
I stumble over my words as I try to maintain the conversation and stay connected and engaged. First things first. ‘More drinks please, waitress, more drinks, more drinks for the table on me,’
Ricky leans over the table, now in story-teller mode. ‘Ok, so, a few years back when I travelled over to Bali, I met a guy who would change the path of my life. At the time I was running some drugs out of Sydney for a small dealer. It was small packages and small monetary returns, but it was very risky business. They have the death penalty over there for that and it was after all the Schapelle Corby stuff. One of the buyers was a guy named Jack. We got to become fairly good friends and each time I would return to Bali we would hang out.’
‘He would put me up in his home for weekends, let me bang the local Bali ladies who hung around his pad, snort his drugs and basically party anytime I was there. It was a good deal. I made some money delivering the drugs; he was a buyer who was moving into distribution, and we were friends. Win–win, right? Anyways, on one of these visits we got to talking and he told me he was going back to Australia and was looking at joining the SAS. I was like, the fucking what? But get this, it wasn’t to travel the world and go to exotic fucked-up war-torn destinations and fight for your country. He was joining to learn how to kill people with the utmost efficiency and become a drug kingpin.’
Ricky pauses, staring at me as though he wanted me to really let that sink in and simmer in my brain. Fuck, at this stage, I could hardly stand up straight, let alone comprehend much of what he was saying.
He continued. ‘This dude was a straight-up psychopath. Jack’s plan was to learn military and police tactics and procedures, and have access to weapons and explosives, riot gear, night vision technology and anything else he could get his hands on. All working towards his ultimate grand plan of being the Australian Pablo Escobar, building his military skills, seek and destroy, cloak and dagger, all that crazy shit.’
‘This guy was a dead-set crazy motherfucker. He wanted to steal, rob and kill. Didn’t matter what. Banks, armoured cars, high-stake heists. Cops’, kids, mums, dads, old people, he didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it all. I didn’t believe him at first. I just made sure I didn’t say anything to agitate him or piss him off. Stay on his good side; you never know when a psychopath will just flip out. Plus you never know when you need a psycho, to help you with a problem.’
‘We kept in touch over time, stayed in contact for a while. Anyway, he was true to his word and successfully joined the Australian SAS. During the time he was serving, he put together a crack fucking team of like-minded psychopaths. Then one day out of nowhere he messaged me and asked if I wanted to be in his group of merry men, nutcases and killers. So, I agreed. I had nothing going at the time and was desperate for some big money.’
‘We started small with the odd hold-up here and there and as we got better and better, the jobs got bigger and bigger, all under the training and leadership of Jack. Mind you, the crazy fucker was still turning up to work each day at the regiment based in Perth. I mean, talk about an absolute fucking lunatic. We were rolling roughly one job a month. The money was good, so I said fuck this to the drug running business and went full time with Jack and his crew. I was pulling in about fifty thousand dollars a month on average. It was exciting work, and the money was good – in the beginning. In those early days there were no innocents getting killed or anyone getting hurt other than the odd security guard getting knocked out here and there. It was all in good fun, like Robin Hood. We were just robbing the rich to give to our merry little gang of thieves and outcasts.’
‘It was crazy times, mate, most of it is still a blur. I was high a lot of the time – drinking, drugs, money, women, parties – it was a life you only see in the movies. We had police and politicians on the payroll; we had strippers and prostitutes as our eyes and ears; we had small low-level drug dealers running point and information gathering operations … We were the top of the criminal food chain at one point in our area. Jack trained us all. It was insane, the levels of perfection he would go to. Some weekends were spent at the range. Tuesday and Thursday nights were Brazilian Ju Jitsu and MMA training. Other days were spent doing scenario-based problem solving. I felt like a true professional criminal of the highest degree, not some low-level fucking crackhead breaking into your house. This was proper organised crime. We were unstoppable and we felt it, getting around like gods. Seriously, though, when you knew all the police and SWAT response tactics and were, in a lot of ways, better trained than them at their own response procedures, how could you not feel invincible? We all felt that level of invincibility. Everything was planned to perfection, it was fucking insane. The details, the precision, everything. I couldn’t get that level of excellence in a 9 to 5 job or had I achieved anything like that in any other part of my life.’
