When it came to hiding the cash in the Leyland Daf and the International; the drivers chose the classic, tried and tested hiding place: inside the spare wheel. The overland expedition trucks carried two spares, mounted on a purpose built racks across the back of the living quarters and they were raised and lowered by their own electric winches. One tyre full on banknotes still left a usable one full of air. The two trucks headed south and searched for an isolated spot away from Highway 1; a beach at the end of a rough dirt road where they could work in peace seemed ideal.
If you have a flat tyre on a busy highway; no one stops to help. Start messing about with a spare wheel in the middle of nowhere and somebody will rock-up and offer to help. With the job finished on the American truck, Kevin had just dropped down one of his spares and deflated the tyre when a German registered MAN TGM13-290 appeared over the horizon and made a bee-line for the Leyland Daf. Gunther jumped down, offered his hand and free advice on tyre inflation.
“All fixed, just need to air it up,” lied Kevin, “ Gabby, fetch a some of beers for our European friends.”
“ You have air-line? No. I have air-line.” gushed Gunther.
Kevin had met this sort before; ultra friendly, ultra helpful and they always assumed you knew nothing. He had learned the hard way; don’t argue, let them have free rein and don’t make it into a competition. Kevin let Gunther pump-up the tyre and helped him re-install it on the back of the Leyland Daf. After an evening of German hospitality; Rufus and Missy, Gabby and Kevin knew the life story and all about the world-tour of Petra and Gunther. It was past midnight before they were in bed, alone together for the first time since the Germans arrived.
“What the hell are we going to do with the money now?” asked Gabby.
“ Christ knows. Just wait until they bugger off and try again, I suppose.”
“But they know we are heading for the ferry at La Paz and so are they. What if they want to tag along?”
“That could be to our advantage; let them lead the way. Safety in numbers and all that. Just got to find another place for the money.”
Gabby and Kevin spent most of the night stuffing the mattress with banknotes after carefully cutting out sections of memory foam. They soon found out they would never again have a comfortable nights rest.
The tourist trap of Cabo San Lucas was the next stop. The two couples visited multiple banks and cambio [money changing] establishments in the port town at the most southern point of Baja California. Every time they changed $1000, cash, into pesos; everytime they came out and told Gunther their credit cards had been refused. Soon they had enough Mexican money for the ferry, fuel and food for the rest of the time in the country. A quick trip on a lancha [launch] out to the photogenic natural arch and the three trucks headed to La Paz and the ferry to Mazatlan.
Rufus was lucky that the Banjercito office at Pichilinque could issue a Temporary Import Permit for the International and their luck held as all three were loaded on that nights crossing although none were able to secure a cabin. It was a smooth crossing of the Sea of Cortez but no one slept well in their reclining chairs. No one would have slept at all if they knew what a close shave they had avoided at the ferry port.
Within hours of leaving their shark tooth campsite; a black Cadillac Escalade of the Tijauna drug cartel pulled in to check the game camera. It was stop 3 of a five stop tour; they changed the SD card and battery, then left. Back at base, inspection of the SD cards gave clear evidence of unusual activity. Arellano-Felix quickly ordered a return visit to the site and a check on the buried barrels revealed one was empty. They knew exactly what they were seeking; an International on Idaho plates and a weird looking cab-over. The Escalade called in at Coco’s Corner and the old man was wise enough to volunteer the information that they had turned South on Highway 5. The cartel assumed the trucks would be heading back to the USA but issued instructions that all their operatives in the Baja were to search for the thieves. Information came back that they had been sighted in Cabo but by the time they came to the conclusion that three vehicles were headed to the mainland, it was too late. Two heavily armed pick-up trucks raced across from Cabo; reaching the ferry port gates just as the Baja Star pulled away from the jetty.
Last on - first off; the unloading order of the stern-door-only roll-on roll-off Baja Star. The three trucks quickly disembarked and headed South on the D15 toll road to Tepic before taking the torturous Highway 200 to a night’s stop at Bucerias, just north of Puerto Vallarta. They were now in the territory of the Sinaloa cartel, deadly enemies of those from Tijuana. Their biggest enemy was the Topes, the ever present speed bumps that brought the speed down to walking pace at the entrance to every village or town or sometimes in the middle of nowhere for no reason at all. Missing a tope meant broken crockery for a motorhome. Letting Gunther and Petra lead the way, eased the worry for the others. Also, having the MAN at the front of the convoy meant that the Germans were first at every military and police checkpoint. The soldiers and police were always friendly and polite, usually inquisitive about departure point and destination with a curiosity about the trucks rather than searching for forbidden stuff.
Gunther and Petra were following the Pan-American Highway and had started in Alaska, similar to Kevin and gabby in the Leyland Daf. Money was not a problem for them and the suggestion of a side trip to Belize was eagerly accepted. Although Gunther could be overbearing; Petra bonded well with the Gabby and Missy, the first female company she had had for months. The Germans were surprised at the others’ generosity; always buying the beers and paying the restaurant bills but it was only payback for the pathfinding and deflecting suspicion. The little convoy stuck to the coastal Highway 200, leaving the turf of the Sinaloa cartel, through Michoacán cartel territory, skirting Acapulco and on into the Province of Oaxaca. Overnight stays were in beachside campgrounds recommended by the iOverlander app on their phones. Cheap places at 200 pesos per vehicle and the best of these was the Don Taco Overlander Camp at San Agustin Bay near Huatulco. Here, a couple from Holland had built an oasis of calm, security and cleanliness that people found difficult to leave. There was just room enough for the three trucks to fit inside the gates.
They stayed a week with the women going to town by taxi for groceries. With the trucks tucked away down a thirteen kilometre dirt road; it was if they had disappeared off the face of the Earth. The Tijauna cartel did not have clue, they thought the Mexico/US border was favorite and staked out as many crossing as possible. The loathing between the cartels made cooperation impossible, plus Tijauna did not want it known how they had been ripped-off. But eventually the six had to leave the idyllic beach where turtles came to nest and hatchlings ran off into the ocean under the moonlight. With warnings of the Ventosa, the high winds that rip across from the Caribbean to the Pacific, the trucks set off for Pelanque. A touristy thing to do but impressive Mayan ruins, the largest in Mexico. Now they were in Chiapas, the most lawless of Mexican states, but here it was not the cartels to watch for but gangs of young men forming barricades across the roads and extracting unofficial tolls. A length of wood with nails hammered through, laid across the road with a rope at either end was encountered. Gunther was adamant he would not pay this highway robbery but after some discussion the toll was found to be 20 pesos per vehicle; only $3 for all of them. This happened a couple of times as they made their way to Chetumal and the border crossing into Belize.
Gunther and Petra spoke good Spanish, the other four were looking forward to speaking English again and Kevin who had served with the British army in Belize would show them around. Border formalities were pretty straight forward with just the fumigation of the vehicles being unusual. Now out of Mexico and in a British Commonwealth country; Kevin felt safe but little did he know that the Tijauna cartel had strong ties with Belize and a message of their arrival was soon on it’s way to Arellano-Felix
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