CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Standing on the platform they stared at one another. They hadn’t spoken a word in hours, simply doing what they do. Thinking. Preparing. Planning.
“I always feel sad when I’m here,” said Saint. “There’s so much that’s beautiful and magical and then there’s all that wasteland that we saw. The poverty that feels suffocating as we pass by.”
“Over-population is definitely a problem for them but Wadston’s way is not the way to deal with it.
It’s not just population. India's poverty is driven by a combination of high population growth exceeding income growth, severe underemployment in the agricultural sector, deep-rooted corruption, and historical impacts of colonialism.
“According to Faith, there have been significant recent reductions in extreme poverty. But there is still massive income inequality, inadequate infrastructure, and poor healthcare and education access among lower castes. With this many people, and culture this old, it seems it will just continue to create a cycle of poverty for millions of people.”
“But they deserve a chance to get out of it themselves,” said Logan. “Whether they’ve intermarried or not. Whether they are from a poverty-stricken family or not. They all deserve the chance to succeed in their own way and their own time.”
“You’re preaching to the choir brother,” said Moose. “Let’s go.” He nodded toward a large flatbed truck filled with produce. Moose and Saint stepped up to the man and spoke to him for a few moments.
“What are they doing?” asked Logan.
“Trying to get us a ride,” said Fitch.
“This is all I have,” said the elderly man. “I sell my produce here to travelers and businessmen going into the big cities. I’m cheaper than those in the city.”
“I understand,” said Moose. “We just need this to get us to that bigger city. I promise to return this or something better in a few days.”
“You promise? But I do not know you,” said the man looking sad that he had to refuse the big man.
“I tell you what,” said Logan. “I’m going to give you two-thousand American dollars in cash.”
The man stepped back, waving his hands at him. He shook his head and looked terrified.
“It’s nothing bad,” said Logan. “We’re trying to stop someone from doing something very bad to your people. You take the money just in case we don’t return. It should buy you something to replace this truck if we don’t come back, right?”
“Mm, yes,” said the man with a strange expression. “But I like this truck.”
“We will bring it back,” said Moose.
“This man you’re trying to stop, does he pretend to be a doctor?” asked the old man.
“How did you know that?” asked Fitch.
“A few hours ago a man came through and said he was a doctor. He said there were small villages that had some sort of strange disease and he’d been vaccinating them. People here don’t usually believe in such medicine. He was angry that no one would listen to him.”
“Which way did he go?” asked Logan.
“South, toward Surat and then Mumbai. He told the taxi to take him as far as he could and gave him a stack of American dollars.”
“You’ve been very helpful. My name is Moose and I will bring back your truck. You have my word.”
“I am Rajesh. If you would be so kind, could you rent me that market stall over there?” he asked quietly, staring down at his feet. “Then I will be able to sell my things until you return.”
“Where do we pay the rent?” asked Saint.
“Come with me,” said Rajesh. They walked toward a man who was talking to the stall patrons and Rajesh nodded at him, introducing him to the American. A few moments later, Saint returned.
“What did that cost us?” asked Logan.
“Five-hundred bucks for the entire month.”
“And how long does he have the stall for?” smirked Moose.
“The entire year,” grinned Saint.
“Good man, brother. Let’s go. We need to get to Surat. Comms? Call the water treatment facilities, the city and district police departments and anyone else you think we might need. Make sure those sources are guarded and guarded well.”
“Already on it.”
“I knew they would be,” grinned Pax.
If the men were depressed by what they saw out of the train windows, they were positively dejected by the scenes they passed in the truck. It reminded them of the old south, pre-Civil War, and a thousand times worse.
Plantations could be seen in the distance from the road with rows and rows of crops baking in the sun, planted around it. Workers with no shoes, no hats, and some without shirts, worked tirelessly for what was most likely pennies a day or simply a shack to lay their heads at night.
“Now, you know they’re making enough money to buy modern equipment for their crops,” said Moose. “This is the kind of shit that pisses me off.”
“Another war, brother,” said Saint. “Let’s take care of this one first.”
“Fine. But I will make sure to have this discussion with the team when we get back. This is despicable.” They nodded, agreeing with Moose but also recognizing that there was nothing they could do to change this. Not today. Not tomorrow. And worse, maybe never.
“Surat police and local military authorities stopped a man at the main water treatment center attempting to place something in the supply.
He told them it was to help with a virus that was happening in their country.
When they attempted to detain him, he shot two officers and narrowly escaped capture.
“The good news is that he didn’t get to dump his serum into the supply. Just to be cautious, they’re testing the water now and will notify us if they find anything. He’s most likely on his way to Mumbai.”
“We need to get there before him,” said Logan. “Can we get air transport to help us get in front of him.”
“They’re on the way.”
AJ gave the coordinates to meet the Osprey and the men were never so grateful to be out of a vehicle in their entire life. That’s saying a lot considering the types of vehicles their asses had to endure in their lifetime.
“There are no fucking springs in those seats,” frowned Logan rubbing his ass cheeks.
“I don’t think it has any shocks either,” grinned Moose.
“Why aren’t you hurting like the rest of us?” asked Saint.
“Bigger man. Bigger ass. I have more cushion than you but don’t get it wrong. I’m still hurting. My balls have all but disappeared.”
When the soft whir of the stealth mode of the Osprey approached, the men turned to the truck and shrugged.
“Are we not returning this to Rajesh?” asked Logan.
“We’re going to buy him a brand-fucking new truck with all the bells and whistles. That truck is probably responsible for aging that poor old man,” said Saint.
“I’m all for that,” smirked Logan. “Maybe if we help one, that will make all the difference in the world. Isn’t that what Mama Irene tells us? Make a difference in one life and you’ll touch a thousand.” Fitch slapped his back as Conor grinned, at him.
“Amen, brother.”