Las Falcones

By J Tripp

sir john becomes naval attache to venezuela and his crew help swing the nation out of the control of the drug cartels. on las falcones a free port has been declared and leywood has built a base for the dragons and the falcons of venezuela to park all their aircraft and run interdiction on the drug runners of the caribbean. with help from the french and americans he builds a network of interdiction which grinds the columbian cartel to a stop in venezuela. next jack stops an armed takeover and turns the troops captured into falcons in his military academy.
next challenge comes when it is discovered by his cousin in australia that the corporations were gradually taking over and the crown no longer would be recognized by australia. jack discovers a huge conspiracy with the australian prime minister and the huks. a huge war explodes in the coral sea and the dragons triumph.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Tripp
• Release date: Dec 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301178056

J Tripp

Born in England 1944 and educated in Canada it took me 60 years to begin writing but I finally did it. I'm a veteran of the Royal Canadian Navy as well as the Royal Australian Navy and a keen sailing enthusiast. I took up the pen when an accident at work disbled me but nothing can crush the human spirit.

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Las Falcones

By John Tripp

Copyright 2012 John Tripp

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No Life Like It

Book Five: Las Falcones

Jack Leywood has been successfully married and socially elevated to a place he never dreamt of. It seems the petrol millionaire can do no wrong and his star really rises with his new tasking, creating a new navy for the Venezuelan high command. Lady Patricia is elevated to British Ambassador to Venezuela and Commodore Sir John Leywood is attached to the Venezuelan navy as Naval Charge D’affaires.

To add to Jack’s experience he must take in his relatives from Australia on the run from a rogue Prime Minister trying to turn the country into an oligarchy. Jack learns that his cousin and his uncles, aunts, and grandfather are all spies on the run and puts them to work on his project for Venezuela and the free port of Las Falcones.

The process of building a town and starting a new school keeps the Dragons busy in the islands and a constant flow of troops and families move into and out of the base while all the time a plan for the necessary change of government in Australia is plotting. Jack’s amazing family of agents and their contacts in country begin the tasks of building a government in exile on Las Falcones.

To back up the new government a new military has to be fashioned from the existing one and Jack finds his greatest ally in the Regulating Branch, the navy’s police.

Sit back and enjoy the tale as the Dragons go nation building.

Chapter One: Bert the Wise

Bert McAllister was a hard-bitten veteran and he didn’t take kindly to people telling him what to do but he was smart enough to know how to keep it off his face. Inwardly he would whisper ‘Inshalla’ basically saying, God’s will be done.

It isn’t that Bert was a pious individual he just liked the Arabians’ way of allowing God to be the arbiter of their fate. He had kiddies at home and they required feeding regularly so he didn’t go further than the quotation but played everything he did by the book. The red-headed ex-soldier listened to his mate ‘Chalky’ White’, the one whose life he’d saved in Gallipoli, tell him where to sell his iron and secretly decided not to. Bert was one of the country’s most successful salvage operators in a period of global recession; he owed that success to what he called an ‘open mind’. That evening after Chalky had gone home Bert received a visitor in his home in Balmain, a suburb of Melbourne, who was to change his life forever it was 1937.

Bert mate is that really you? Bert was staring at a vision; the last time he’d seen Calvin McMurtry he’d been heading down the beach on a stretcher at Gallipoli with a pound of shrapnel in him, he hadn’t been expected to survive. Here he was twenty years later on the doorstep…

Christ Murky I thought ye were gone mate I really did, get in heah. The two diggers hugged each other and shed good honest tears of love then sat down in the little sitting room at the rear of the house. The McAllister children had heard all the war stories of ‘Murky’s sacrifice to Australia when he threw himself on top of Bert as a Turkish artillery barrage swept the ridge they had crawled to.

The long reunion lasted until dawn when the two men, exhausted, fell asleep. Anne had tiptoed in and covered the two with a blanket then gone into the kitchen to brew the tea for her older brothers and younger sisters. A very loud snore got them laughing and John, the eldest, wondered what the girls found so funny.

What’re ye three galas chucklin’ about Annie? Another snore threatened to lift the roof and he smiled, Anne told him,

They sat up all night and finished the beer then the brandy John. I imagine they’ll sleep for a bit yet why don’t ye take the car and we’ll walk if we need te get anything.

Although John was the oldest, Anne at the ripe old age of fourteen was the recognized leader of the five children and surrogate mother when their mother died. She ladled out oatmeal for her four siblings and placed a large teapot on the table, Shielagh and Gloria brought the cups and saucers.

Chip what did he mean when he offered dad a job in the Firm? An item of the previous evening’s conversation had been on her mind and his youngest sister Gloria wondered what it all meant.

Charles ‘Chip’ McAllister and his brother John were in Melbourne University. Chip, at 24 was going for a Masters in history and John, two years his elder was finishing law school after winning an impressive scholastic record and a Bachelor of Arts degree. Charles gave them the benefit of his knowledge,

They call it the ‘Firm’ but it’s really the government’s Military Intelligence department, a bit like MI5 Gloria. They want dad to go to Japan and work on a trade agreement for the Prime Minister. 12 year-old Shielagh snorted,

He’s only going to ask dad to do what he told Mister White he wouldn’t do. As I recall father was determined not to sell anything to them after they did that in Nanking. Ye don’t suppose he’s changed his mind do ye?

The next day Bert left with his war buddy for Canberra taking the morning train and it was the beginning of his family’s involvement with the secret service…

TiJean’s files were very elaborate; he had dug into my family back four generations to discover what he could that might clear up the grey areas about my father. I still smiled when I recalled one of his notes on my grandfather calling him ‘Bert the wise’ when he solved a tricky embassy problem in Batavia by preventing a firefight in the grounds. It was one of those political moves that caused both sides to come up a winner and the press had loved it.

The ‘Terrier was on the roads approaching Halifax where we were dropping Admiral Cunningham before an exercise with both the RCN and USN down the east coast and finishing at Bermuda. I heard the PA announcing the change of watch and calling the anchor party to the chains, I dropped the file as I left for the bridge.

My pennant number was flying on the port admiral’s signal yard, T-E-R-2-4-J-2. Roger rang down for revs and began rotating through a snug turn which laid us alongside jetty 2 where the ‘Bonnie often lay. Down on the hard an honor guard stood alongside the band from Shearwater and waited to welcome their admiral home and tip the naval hat to the taxi service.

I placed a call to the Sherriff’s office and asked for chief Stone,

Hello Swain, can I trust you to look after the band and guard while we oil the brassy swells? he laughed and answered that my will was his command then rang off…

At the entry I stood to welcome the brass of Atlantic Command. I admit to a modicum of pride there, not for me but my crew who kept our carrier in very pusser condition. Admiral Cunningham introduced me to the major players on the coast…

Of course you know ‘Droppers’ who’s now head of Air and lives at ‘Shearwater…

Some of them were past companions including Commander Rod Squires and a few NCOs of fond recall still gracing the dry halls of the trade school.

Doc and ‘Bristles were smuggled up to our flat along with Rod and Leslie with Ginger the four year-old teenager for a quiet reunion and several hours of yarns and beer.

Patti surprised them all when she announced our seasonal gift to the navy,

We understand how hard it is for serving families and when school’s out there’s not a lot of options for the kids so I’ve had an idea. Why not have a continual rotating vacation flat on Las Falcones for the whole family to get away to the Caribbean hideaway. Right at present we have spaces for twelve couples and children as well as fifty empty places in the Military Academy. She glanced at me; we had a couple empty mess decks… oh what the heck. I nodded,

Yes we have two empty mess decks which we can adapt to suit for those folks who want a cruise with no watches. Of course being service you’d understand flight operations would ban any picnics planned for the pasture but we can offer a PT regimen that will change your life, no joke. If that ain’t enough we also run a free university and all you need to qualify is to be too broke to pay the fees!

This wasn’t what we would be telling the others, this information was for the wives’ club and the messdeck buzz. The Dragons were in a position to make life easy for our brothers in arms and I wanted to offer my oldest friends a plum.

I need some qualified instructors. This is a teaching only position, no action anticipated eh. The job comes with a flat or cabana, uniform allowance for the entire family and all sorts of discounts. The opening salary is proposed at thirty thousand pounds, of course the accommodations are free and the place is a free port, no taxes. The Island Council offers free schooling to college level and a really extensive sports program and there is a world-class catering school for those who want to learn the tourism business or become a chef. Outside amenities include a free two-way flight to Caracas where a whole lot of other opportunities await the clever. The country is screaming for a marine technical college so we built one but one isn’t enough and not everyone wants to fly out or catch a ferry to work or school.

More coffee anyone? Patti was cheerful and happy to be involved with my friends in this work for the State we were building, the free port of Las Falcones.

The well poached staff of Atlantic Command was putty in our hands; Marion delivered the first blow when she slew them with her wit. While they were reeling Johnno followed with a whole slew of toasts to all and sundry as long as we held a glass and it was wet. Cheers mate!

Reggie and his mates delivered a wonderful lunch following that with fruit and nut dishes, Babette’s cakes, cheese and port in admiralty decanters. (Large glass teardrop shaped bottles with a wide bottom to prevent spillage at sea.)

While the other rates and NCOs ate the same menu in the cafeterias on the decks below the hangars Doc and Chief Bristleton were yarning with their opposite numbers and forming the opinion that maybe young Jack had something there. Dorothea had slipped ashore to a phone box and made her report to some of the ladies who weren’t there or not on the guest list.

By the last bell at colors the next day everyone who was anything like a bored winter-bound family of corporal and part time waitress with three kids were packing cases for the rumored free holiday in the sunny Caribbean.

The phone was for me Archie said and brought me the shore extension,

Hello Commodore Leywood speaking… You do work fast don’t you Dorothea. How many families have you found? She began a list, realized that was redundant and said, in a saleswoman’s voice…

Eleven families Jack… most of ‘em are three people but there’s a couple bigger families, I want to come and bring Carla and Jean so Doc can teach. His hitch ends this week! Roger and I worked with the Nabob and the Swain to bed down seventy people from an elderly veteran who had never been overseas to a set of twins Conrad’s age.

I went down to speak with our holiday makers,

Welcome aboard the Terrier. We’ll try our hardest to make this fun and hope it doesn’t get too boring. We expect to arrive in Las Falcones on the twenty-first of February and between now and then we’ll be flying aircraft and steaming with several other ships. The starboard wing of the flying bridge is open to sightseers but watch for closed passages which will be private and out-of-bounds. It isn’t that we don’t trust you we just wish to run the ship as efficiently as we can so we’ve put a lot of thought into this. A path has been marked for you to get some exercise and there are virtually no restrictions below the hangar decks. Our crew enjoys a workout with Lady Patricia and Nicole LeClerc each day at sea when no aircraft are flying. You are invited to join in at that time and for the families with toddlers the after hangar has a play area with kids’ toys and games and for the older kids we have computers and of course our library and the other facilities will as usual be going round the clock. In the Dragon spirit we offer seamanship lessons and slots for ‘volunteer’ watchkeepers and upper deck ‘camera artists’ who know how to stay off the flight line…

I was welcoming friends from Halifax who would be enjoying our meager fare on a cruise to Venezuela. HMS Terrier was a fleet escort class carrier 780 feet long with a crew of 1,200 men and women on attachment to the Dragons. Unlike most carriers ours was refurbished and more comfortable than the usual ships of the Atlantic fleet. We had guest accommodations and amenities for children for example and oak paneling in the cabins and real wool carpets.

The Dragons were an international group of Specops troops, engineers, educators, training specialists and anti-drug ring operations coordinators. We operated under the umbrella of the Royal Navy and trained troops for friendly nations in the arts of tactical survival. Our other mandate was as military arm of Interpol using resources not available to police forces.

Currently our flotilla of mixed vessels included the carrier as floating command center, two submarines, a fleet oiler and replenishment vessel and four fast armed yachts. Not ordinary yachts the Puff II class of patrol and assault craft were capable of sustained speeds over sixty miles per hour in moderate seas and carried concealed armament that made these craft very prickly.

From our bases on Flotta in the north and Leywood House in the south of England we launched concerted attacks against the cartels and gangs that threatened the very lives of the poor and downtrodden of the world. We now had a new base on an atoll in the Caribbean offshore from Venezuela and this mission was to staff the military school and bring the less fortunate for a holiday. The holiday camp was in its infancy and we were planning to use the airlines in future when more people could be spared to run the program.

Doc and Dorothea were on the bridge with Patti and I when Dot volunteered for the job to run the holiday camp…

Ever since Georgie left for university I’ve been rattling around the house without a purpose. Why don’t I look after the kids at camp and put a group together to keep them in clean socks and regular meals eh? Georgina Savage was the youngest of the clan gone to Royal Roads engineering and her parents were very proud of her.

Does she still bowl? As I recall she was pretty good even at six Dot. The old fleet mother of my squadron smiled, Dorothea was a mother first to her own clan…

She still has her ball and shoes an’ that eh. She wrote to tell me all about a league she joined last month.

Our family reunion lasted all the way to Bermuda where we got the pierside in a very busy Ireland’s Island right at the end next to the now closed ‘Officers only’ showers and heads building and on shore power. As a new fleet under the Dragon pennant we now rated high.

While the captains of the ships in harbor lined up to make their manners Penelope and McRae were lining up tour coaches and golfing expeditions.

Patti and Marion with Babette began the banquet set for the next evening when we would host the governor and mayors of Bermuda. Our mission to the USN had put together some competitions with local schools for a mini-rugby tourney and I saw jerseys on the pier with Bonnie dick’s rattler over the pocket. We would take that in.

My surprise for the two NCOs I had headhunted from the RCN was the appearance at the first kick-off of ‘Grumps’ Little. The game was delayed for a bit while a lot of emotions were displayed. The Diamondbacks gave the Terriers a lesson in ground tactics for most of the game and I was sorely tempted to don a jersey.

The problem was the unfair advantage of Bonnie Dick’s cheering section led by Violet rousing the team to incredible feats. In the last quarter they led by six and our bunch looked beaten until Patti made her way down to the dugout and cried,

Come-on you Terriers you can do this! Away all boarding parties now and get me a try! Roger and I are depending on you! That little pep-talk galvanized our side and the Rattlers were doomed, it seemed that the Terriers couldn’t be held and they ran three tries before the final whistle and thunderous applause from the stands.

On the front street in Hamilton a group of men occupied the bar stools at one end of the bar. It was cool and dim in the bar and Al Mackentire seemed to emerge from the wall,

Good evening Lady Patricia, Jack, I bet you’re both pleased with your win at rugby today that was truly impressive the way they rallied at the end. Al’s group made us welcome and we talked politics mostly because our mission was political and the things we wanted from the Caribbean community jibed with their desires for the Texas Gulf.

I had a word with some pals in Washington after I found them planes. Apparently there’s a destroyer in Corpus Christi with your name on it. I’m workin’ on a crew with Pinky and some other guys. Be interesting to see what your guy Brown does with it. I had another man in mind, a protégé of Kurt’s, Frigattenkapitan Willi Von Kreusen.

Willi graduated from St. Cyr and went straight aboard a destroyer in the Fifth Destroyer Squadron based in Kiel. He had displayed his impressive powers during several stand-offs with the East German navy over fishing disputes and defector support.

Al brought me back to the present as he introduced his friends to us and we moved into the booths for a chin-wag. He reminded me that he had been watching Dave’s rapid rise through the ranks from his enormous value as a weapons designer…

Hell he needs some command time now to round out the man… He saw my skepticism and detected my dismay at possibly losing my executive officer…

Put Von Kreusen on the carrier because he needs capital ship experience and Brown will shine, I’ll bet my buttons. Of course Al was correct and was backed up by Lord Bolton later when I called him to make my report…

Your family sends a greeting to you young Leywood and Lady Bolton wants Penelope to call home. I had a conference with Von Metterlung and his young destroyer captain yesterday; the fella wants some carrier time. If you want my opinion I’d put young Lieutenant Commander Brown in charge of that destroyer. I agreed with my commander and we rang off.

Commander Brown… Commodore’s Office. D’you hear there, Commander Brown Commodore’s Office.

The PA announced my desire to communicate with my gunnery/executive officer who might be anywhere on the ship. I looked up from my paperwork to see my friend, cap in hand on my doorstep…

Dave! Come on in buddy, park yer bones. Wet? I held up the decanter suggestively and he nodded,

Sure Skipper, what’s up? He gazed across my desk as innocent as the first day in joining block when he bummed a cigarette. I slid a sheet of paper across to him and waited while he read it and re-read it… His orders from Fleet in Portsmouth commanded him to assume command of HMS Hook a destroyer in the US navy yards at Corpus Christi Texas.

So Commander Brown you get to change your sleeve and put up your step! Dave I am so proud of you man! I was just remembering Cornwallis when we showed up at joining block with Jerry Smith and Al Warren. Things have moved on from there eh?

He grinned and quaffed his scotch,

Are we gonna get stoned aboard or do you wanna go someplace? Patti was reading in the cabin and snorted with laughter…

You don’t know yourself do you Dave? Let’s go to the wardroom and let your shipmates in on the news. Oh by the way I received a letter from Loretta and she sends her regards to you Dave. Apparently you left a nice memory in that little town she wants to hear from you Davey. He blushed and nodded,

Ok then the wardroom where those guys will trash me, oh well it’s for the good of the service isn’t it? We chuckled at his simplistic take and went down to the wardroom arriving at tot time. As executive officer Dave more or less ran the show in the wardroom so there were no problems with his dragging the commodore in for a tot and announcement. He called the mess to order and I smiled at my officers.

Gentlemen thank you for inviting Lady Patricia and I. I have a little announcement to make as of tomorrow commander Dave Brown is captain and commander of HMS Hook. I’m sure you will want to wet Dave’s promotion with me so I will assume the bar bill steward and here’s to Dave. I downed my rum and banged the glass down. Roger had his evil smile in place and I realized we were in for a run of Homeric proportions…

Three days later the greyhound hauled Dave and a couple of his favorite NCOs off the flight deck and winged away westward heading for Texas calling at Pensacola on the way to take on more passengers. Seven hours later the plane returned bringing captain Kreusen and some German NCOs for carrier training and aircrew duties on the helicopter wing.

"Herr Alte, I am at your service." Willi grinned; he was full of camaraderie like Kurt and I knew we’d get on well. Already Roger was full of praise for the speed with which the captain assumed his duties and went about learning the ship in a set of unmarked coveralls…

The gunnery division is quite good I see und Brian? Ya Brian has shown me all of the air division and I only have to get a flight in a plane to have seen it all. I am looking forward to the exercise where I will see if I can do this or not hein?

Kurt grinned at his pal and chuckled,

When action comes now I can relax und take one more coffee before taking off knowing Willi has it all under control.

The exercise wound down ten days later as the flotilla of ships lay in the sea east of the lagoon while the mooring and anchorages could be worked out. Terrier sat close to the academy landing where our four fast yachts were moored and we put our landing barges down to ferry the holiday makers ashore.

On the hills above the bay a couple of construction hammerhead cranes could be seen swinging panels back and forth as the construction division assembled another block of space-age flats.

In a quiet vale the housing complex designated for the project was completed now and painted in pastel shades set amid the trees each unit a duplex housing two families and set in gentle curves around a swimming pool and tennis court with nearby playground for little ones.

The complete lack of automobiles accounted for much of the peace of the place and the pace of life was reduced to a walk. Things went on at a genteel speed and the islands were backdrop to sighs of pleasure when our guests realized how very restful it all was.

Across the ridge it was possible to look down in the moorage basin where the bulk of the ships were tied up. The huge mass of the Bonhomme Richard took most of the roads for her anchorage and alongside ‘Gambler and her brood of supply vessel and oiler, another four fast yachts, a flotilla of Venezuelan patrol craft and a destroyer getting her sonar outfit repaired on the ways. Terrier was headed for the end of the pier behind the escort destroyer going on shore power her boilers shutting down for repairs. In the cove below our house two submarines had their own quiet moorage and shore facilities next to the tennis courts.

A military transport plane arrived bringing Admiral Velasquez and his staff including Admiral Flores and some headquarters staff I remembered from our visit to the capitol the previous summer. We headed for the conference center where officers and advisors were gathering for our first meeting. There was a lot of information to get down.

First, although the party had won most of the province of Amazonas, the people of Puerto Ayacucho had yet to be convinced that Martin’s government was any better than the current known one. Support was strongest around the Lake Maracaibo district including the provinces of the country’s alpine districts like Táchira and Barinas. The good folks of Apure and Bolivar Provinces took to him at once putting pressure on Amazonas to get with the program.

So Juan it is the cities we need to convince and your arrival couldn’t have been better timed. Perhaps the citizens will react to some political nudges from the British. I know that when they discovered you were coming as Naval Attaché most of the officers decided for me. The business community has nothing but respect for you and of course Lady Patricia has only to enter a city to win it.

At the end of the first meeting we had hammered out a schedule for our state visit to the country following our occupation of the Embassy in Caracas. It was foreseen that we would command the seaward part of the country and now would set about gaining air superiority by getting pally with the Air Force. The Dragonization of the Venezuelan military would free Martin up for his country.

The new administration was going into the barrios armed with doctors and nurses to set up free clinics. An education system would be crafted to include every person who wanted an education to get one for free. Industry would pair with the trade schools to put the educated to work building a better tomorrow.

Martin’s cabinet had been very busy drafting a new constitution which would include everyone. Even finance was going to change when the public would receive a wage equal to the current cost of living and erasing poverty with one swipe of a rubber stamp. Taxes would be paid by purchase when people went shopping or spent their cheques but bread remained tax-free and incentives such as education supplements would encourage progress. When a personal income reached parity with the government cheque it was taxed unless the earner returned the government income at which point an entrepreneur became tax-free in order to build his business.

Even those incentives seemed to not convince the masses in the cities. Government programs received a lot of opposition in many of the poorest barrios which got me thinking of some Renaud-like character running the show. Did Caracas have a version of some Dickensian underworld for instance why was it those who stood to gain most complained loudest? They would cry ‘welfare state’ at the opposition and glower importantly but hot temperatures often breed hot tempers.

The cartels were hard at it fomenting unrest in an attempt to prevent the masses from rising above the filth they wanted them to continue in. For them change would mean loss of control and a lot less money and it was that which bothered them most.

My heart went out to the campesinos caught between the grinders and seemingly powerless. We had our work cut out for us on Martin’s 70% of the vote, the dissenters all seemed to be wealthy and or involved in banking and real estate. It was the real estate market which triggered my sensors first. This was where Juan Cordobes had been spawned and I bet the industry was full of clones.

Martin, how do we find out who owns the real estate in the country? he scratched his ear a minute,

Probably find out in the land registry office Juan. Do you think that is important amigo?

We’ll find out who’s financing the drugs when we find out who has the biggest pile. I bet there’s a lot of foreign investment in your country you don’t even have any trace of Martin and those will be your real enemy eh. They stand to lose a lot by the empowerment of the nation and you’ve got to give the taxes a quarter of a year before they give any indication of spending. So now you make inquiries about the very rich and see what props them up, how much is passed down and how much didn’t get deposited after the taxes were paid, things like that will give you some idea how effective we are.

Severing the connection to Turkey and Russia had unveiled a fairly large account in the National Bank and Martin’s book keepers told us it was a hundred and twenty million US dollars. We could figure on a fee of ten percent for the transaction and fees to keep everyone happy along the way. It was reasonable to assume that little investment created a few millionaires from the backhanders expected.

The money didn’t actually belong to anyone now and we could see how a mad scramble to seize that would ensue. So Martin and I arranged for some elaborate financial traps then insured the deposit with Credit Suisse and waited for the poo to atomize.

The prizewinner was the ‘Turkish’ millionaire who came looking for a money trail he said. He was one of a syndicate of investors he said that had placed their money and in some cases all their money with Count Leskovitch because he had always been good for it. Now, he said, they wished to reclaim their investment capital after discovering he was in prison.

Catharine, conducting the interview in a busy down-town Caracas office, asked the man for his credentials speaking Turkish. He responded that he spoke perfect Spanish and her speaking Turkish wasn’t necessary so she got curious and asked him why in English.

The man became flustered and it was soon realized that he was in fact not Turkish but a Venezuelan national, how then, could he account for all that money? After a little hedging he offered her a huge bribe to help him extract the money from Switzerland. Catharine demurely suggested they meet later after the office was shut (Nudge wink) and the man left returning to meet her and finding, instead TiJean at eight o’clock…

Eh you bring flower’ mister. I don’ t’ink you gonna get far wit’ dat one no. Now you sit dere an’ write down how you make your living since ten year eh. Once discovered he opened up like a broken dam and in the process revealed some of his accomplices because he was very eager to disassociate himself with Cordobes or Esposito.

The Swiss lottery became a joke among the Dragons and helped to lighten the load as we prepared to open our Embassy in Caracas. Snowy and Mac had viewed the house and shook their heads over the state of the place.

In places the plaster had fallen away altogether from the damp, there was no carpeting or electrical fixtures and the left hand door of the double entrance, was missing.

Mac got started by replacing the missing door and installing a gas furnace to dry it all out then left it closed with the heat on for a week. The crew returned and removed the remaining plaster with shovels and humped in sheetrock we had imported from the ‘States.

TiJean flew through with his trowel fairing out the corners and openings then followed with plaster appliqué then again the furnace to dry everything before painting. Soon they had returned the building to its former Palladian glory in gilt work and silk rococo splendor.

Patti brought her school chum Melissa out and the two of them began designing the finishing touches and furniture being donated by the French thanks to Alice Lavendre who flew out took one look and gasped,

Patricia, the way things are going it will be months before the first ball! I will find you some decent furniture and get it shipped quickly my dear.

The building began to take shape rapidly as the mahogany tables were placed in front of the gilt-framed mirrors on the marble floors of the foyer. Vases in niches and occasional bronzes were offset by fine wool carpets and satinwood chairs. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ballroom ceiling which was richly coped by gilt plaster scrollwork relieved by acanthus leaves at the corners.

Each of the four walls of the ballroom had three niches large enough to fit a table and several guests leaving the hardwood parquet dance floor free of encumbrances. A small low stage was available by pulling it out of the baseboard like a large drawer or a huge murphy bed.

In the drawing room a spinet sat in one corner flanked by early naval architectural models in glass cases. The décor was kept quiet by the subtle use of color, drapes and lighting so one felt light and happy surrounded by artistically designed distractions.

Satin cushioned furniture and fine silver service on stiff linen adorned the lavish dining room with a table big enough to sit forty diners under a silver-gilt ceiling set with tiny lamps and corbelled to amplify the effect of space. The rest of the room was lit by sconce lamps with suspended crystal shades giving everything a slight rainbow touch as it sat on the mahogany and gilt sideboards with stone tops of malachite and turquoise inlay with ebony edges.

The second floor contained our offices opposite each other in the front of the building with support staff behind us and washroom and bathing facilities in the center. The top floor was our suite with servant’s quarters and radio room at the back and four large bedrooms around the central bathroom accessible from the landing like an old hotel.

The eighteenth century design continued throughout and was comfortable.

Dave and Catharine had no problems and Anne thought she was a princess when she was shown the smallest bedroom; a mere twenty feet by eighteen with a massive four-poster bed hung with silk. The whole thing was charming and I fell in love with it.

TiJean and family occupied the second floor residence and we all moved in then took stock of the outer appearance. I decided to send for Donald McNair to see to the grounds. The garage was finished and the paint almost dry on our motor block of six bays and six mini-flats above each housing the staff and our cars and motorcycles. Basically we occupied a compound of roughly ten acres with the house in the center behind a nice circular drive lined with trees.

The house itself sat on a double basement, three stories with attics and a Palladian façade with eight columns and a portico big enough for two limousines to park abreast.

The brick drive ran around the rear to a courtyard with potted sticks needing trees where the garage block ran along the edge of the property presenting a sheer brick wall along that side of the property crowned with broken glass. A steep rock headland made the inside wall almost vertical to a hundred feet.

Behind that were the ruins of a garden which Donald would re-design to suit the house and finally a line of Lombardy poplars crossed the rear of the lot at an angle to the river.

Because of the almost antebellum appearance of the street side of the place I suggested a name board at the gate reading something like ‘peachy magnolia chitlins honey’ and TiJean replied that we’d have a mile of cars lined up to order food and Patti began to laugh with Madge.

Conrad joined us,

They laugh too much my cheeks hurt Uncle Jack. I smiled at him,

They’re happy TiCo d’you like your new house? He laughed and grabbed my hand,

"You’re serious aren’t you Uncle Jack? It’s a bit like a museum since grandmere brought all those antiques back from France. I like my new room though and I’ve begun my model ship on the craft table." Our house was getting together and Craig was in the kitchen proving it with several of his new students. We were having a few people over for dinner, an almost regular occurrence once established.

Mac’s lumbering presence made itself known followed by Dinty and Marion attached to Smiley-Anne by her left hand. Mac peered about him and said quietly,

Needs security, TiCo’s library kin go in there…I bet there are hardly any bathrooms eh? He and TiJean went off to confer while Patti showed Marion her new bedroom with both stewards by the hand…

Open eyes! Now then Dinty room to be as funny as you like our room is just through this little door here and you’ll have noticed that your bedroom door is closest to the stairs. Mac and Conrad towing Smiley-Anne cruised in and he indicated the right place for an ensuite bathroom…

Hey… Y’know what yer ladyship? This closet is an elevator! I noticed the same thing in Smiley’s room and we talked about that. We reckon it was fer the servants to bring stuff from the next floor, like buckets of water when Madame wished to bathe. He searched in the corners looking carefully over the floor until Smiley spotted what he was looking for.

Over here uncle Mac. She was indicating a section of the parquet where some of the tiles were swollen from being wet repeatedly until the water content of the wood was saturated. When the wood dried out the edges curled slightly and their warped condition could be seen by the skirting boards.

They would bring in a tub eh an’ then fill er with water by hauling it up from the kitchen on the elevator; it was called a dumbwaiter eh. The servant would put up a screen and toss in a towel, bath time. Smiley and Conrad giggled at Mac’s description.

I was curious now and went back to the master bedroom where Patti and I slept. Upon close examination the same fact was made apparent when I closed the closet door behind me. When the door casing was pushed back it revealed a pair of ropes. At the back of the closet a panel hinged out to reveal a shaft and when I pulled a rope it retrieved the car large enough to accommodate two people with trays etc. The back wall was another panel which led to Marion and Archie’s room.

Patti was intrigued by the old Victorian designs for the ‘downstairs’ people to wait on the rich and powerful. Mac and TiJean began to carefully examine what had got by them even though all the plaster had been removed and replaced somehow they had missed what turned out to be four dumbwaiters.

From our bedroom it was possible to go down to the office or the basement whose second level was connected to the garage block by a tunnel. Very Bruce Wayne I thought but then I had to consider the times and what little I had read of Venezuelan politics during that era. Later, comparing notes with Martin, he filled in some of the details for us…

"Those were troubled times amigos. No one really knew his friend with so many revolutionary ideologies. Even though that house was the French Embassy at the time they still had necessity to mistrust the government with its British leanings. Originally the land here belonged to the mission until 1621, Captain Pedro de Lugo Gutiérrez and priest Gabriel Mendoza founded the town of Dulce Nombre de Jesús de Petare. Precisely Petare is a word that derives from the Carib language meaning face to the river amigo." He smiled, realizing how much I didn’t know about his country.

Ok so we lived on the edge of town a mile or so from the river where some of Caracas’ oldest foreign missions were built and Martin went on to explain how his town all the way over on the other side of Lake Maracaibo was linked to this one by a series of alpine trails…

…And so it was possible to ride the secret path from the naval dockyards to here to deliver messages when the trust began to dwindle for them… My mind went all the way home to Hawkwing probably standing in his stall right now wondering how I’m doing…

Say Martin, what are the laws about bringing in a horse? He grinned vastly and clapped my shoulder,

Amigo I have been a little devious. Your mother and I have been in touch for some weeks now and only yesterday your horse arrived at my estancia. Now you have a good reason to travel to my home for a little rest since all your hard work here. I nearly wept on the spot. I had been so busy with the house and our communications network with Las Falcones that I hadn’t noticed the sometimes furtive looks between Patti and Madge or Catharine.

Martin’s car arrived and Patti and I occupied the rear with Martin for the drive to Pueblo Viejo where his ranch was. The highway system was pretty efficient but it was a six hundred mile journey requiring a few rest stops and two meals so we were turning off route 6 in the early hours before dawn and still chattering history when we pulled up in front of the house.

I emerged from the car and walked three steps toward the house when I heard Hawkwing whinny from the stables and Patti wheeled me about and guided my steps horseward. In the stables he stood quivering when I looked over his box door.

Hello boy did you miss me? Stamp stamp, really a lot I guessed and opened the door entering his stall. He was really happy to see me whickering away while I hugged his neck and fed him a sugar cube.

Tell ya what sport we’ll go out after I take a little rest eh? He nodded and stamped once, my friend was glad to be together again. Patti was stroking the horse in the neighboring stall admiring her and fawning on her long chestnut-colored nose soft and sensitive.

I guess you like her eh? First time I was down here he had about five horses but I’ve not met this one. She was looking at the tack and judging whether there was a saddle she might use when an elderly gentleman joined us with Martin.

Juan, amigo I want you to meet Diego Flores. He is my gaucho and looks after all the horses.

"A gusto Señor gracias por preocuparse por mi caballo" (thank you for caring for my stallion.) I see a few saddles…" Diego was very helpful and got out the tack for Patti and assured us the two horses would be ready to ride after breakfast.

We ate a huge omelet and drank strong gaucho coffee before going back to the stables where Hawkwing and his new pal Habañero (Pepper) waited in the yard. Our mounts were eager for the off. Hawkwing seemed a little jealous and wanted to race in order to establish pecking order and the mare only wanted to run. We pointed them at the country almost devoid of people and gave them their heads.

Patti shouted, "Endeles caballo" and shot off just ahead of Hawkwing who snorted as if to say, Oh no you don’t! and tore after them. I urged my mount in Arabic saying,

"Fly my brother may your feet be as wings of the djinn. Hawkwing’s feet seemed to get a new rhythm and we flew past Patti at the top of the paddock and reeled around for the ride back. The horse danced around like he was doing an, I told you so" jig until Habañero trotted up snorting her compliance and we were allowed the pleasure of a comfortable trot with no histrionics. Patti chuckled and said,

I think your horse can read your mind Jack. His right front hoof went stamp and he nodded to her like he was answering her and maybe saying,

"I’m glad you caught that." We dissolved in laughter while the two horses took us sedately back toward the stables and on past the gate to the other fields. Martin and Diego joined us then and Diego led by jumping the gate for the field and we followed at a leisurely pace touring the country round and at length Diego led us to a track leading up into the foothills.

"This road, Señor, goes back almost five hundred years to the Llaneros who were descendants of the first Spanish settlers who brought African slaves with them and the mix produced this new people at the late sixteenth century. We, the Llaneros are the ones who carved out the estancias and rancheros in this rugged country and established routes for intelligence to cross the country. Before the bridge at Maracaibo they had to go completely around Lake Maracaibo and up into the Andes before travelling down the south side of the Venezuelan Coastal range which ends at Caracas."

He went on to explain how modern roads had all but obliterated the old trail but he had ridden it all the