Enter the Headhunters Epilogue

Epilogue

          The man known as Ghost Bear stepped off his plane carrying a duffle bag and the case given to him by Cobra high command.  A small 80’s style jeep was parked over to the side of the airport brandishing the flag that had been described to him by Major Bludd.  Two men in traditional Arab head-garb sat behind the wheel. He had started to grow in his facial hair prior to his deployment and after dying it, he took on a more Arabic-look.  The makeshift airstrip he landed at did not require him to register his entry into the country and this made him feel even less safe.  The man behind the wheel stepped out of the jeep and raised his hands signaling for him to walk on over.  Ghost Bear acknowledged the man and made his way towards them. 

“Are you the Ghost Bear?”

The man spoke in broken English but could be easily understood.  The Cobra emissary nodded and also answered in broken English.

“Yes, it is I. You speak Farsi? Arabic?”  The man smiled a big gnarly, toothy grin at him.

“Yes, welcome my brother! As-Salaam-Alaikum!”

“As-Salaam-Alaikum.”

The other two men exited the vehicle and offered to assist the younger man with his luggage into the jeep.  He did the correct thing and thanked them, but loaded his personal items into the vehicle himself.  The four men then began their journey away from the airstrip and onto a barely recognizable dirt road.

   *     *     *     *

          The D.E.F. team arrived on the scene in Newark in under an hour using the team’s helicopter. They immediately began investigating the area for ballistics evidence and drug paraphernalia. 

“Major, these spent casings are not like anything we’ve seen before.  Whoever orchestrated this hit has access to some pretty high-tech artillery.” 

As the team continued their investigation two more bodies were retrieved from out of the bay. 

“Looks like these two guys tried to abandon ship and were shot dead in the water.” 

By the time the team was done with their preliminary search, they were left with more questions than answers.  It was clearly a turf war, but the identity of the second player was still unknown. 

“So what are you thinking Major? Negotiations gone bad?  Or a random hit?”

“This was clearly a planned assassination since each faction came prepared.  The level of accuracy here leads me to believe that we are dealing with a very organized and disciplined drug cartel.  This was deliberate, and it doesn’t appear that there was a single casualty on the other side.  The wrist tattoos clearly identify all the dead as members of the Vargus Syndicate.”

Bombstrike continued clicking on her tablet as her teammates discussed the possible players.

“Guys, you’re going to want to see this.  I was able to tap into the security feed of a ship anchored off to the right side of the pier.  It appears all other nearby cameras were dismantled prior to the firefight, but I was able to get this.” 

The forward observer turned her tablet to show a freeze frame of two men holding handguns trained on the Vargus family.  One of the men was wearing a ridiculously-colored forest-green suit with a white fedora and a face mask. 

“Can you zoom in on that and clear it up?”

“Give me a minute.”

Her fingers padded away on the tablet improving the resolution and size of the image.

“I know who we’re dealing with now.  Ladies and gentlemen this isn’t good.  The man pictured goes by the street name of the Headman, one Declan H. Mann.  Once a sleazy, two-bit drug pusher now, one of the most notorious organized drug lords in all of North America.  We thought he was dead due to the fact that he’s been off the radar for several years. He runs a group of radicals known as the Headhunters.  This hit indicates that he’s finally ready to take his small-time criminal band and enter into the big leagues.  Things just got interesting.”