The ERTHROXYLON Solution

Eradication is the solution

[With Apologies, this manuscript was produced in Word 97 and, in 2025 as each printed page is scanned, then added to this document, the format from 1997 is resisting my efforts to screen-out the old formatting. I will continue my effort to clean things up. I do not have the manuscript in electronic form as two PCs have been replaced with a Mac mini and a new Word for Mac.]

In a Philosophy Course - Science and Technology - taken in 1971 I arrived at a cycle I described as “The Cope Philosophy of Mankind”. In it, I described an 8-step process by which Science & Technology attempted to solve problems; however, they really only created new problems. Effectively, they only “coped” with problems and the cycle emerged as a downward spiral. I usedRachel Carson’s example from “Silent Spring:

1. We have a problem with insects devouring our crops

2. How can we eliminate the problem?

3. Let’s spray the crops with DDT

4. Observe the short-range results - killing the insects, success

5. Observe the long-range results - run-off of DDT is entering streams and fish

6. Eagles are eating contaminated fish, DDT makes their shells thin, no hatch

7. Bald Eagle populations drastically depleted, nearing extinction

8. We have a new problem due to Science & Technology’s efforts to kill insects

As I examined other “advances” of Science & Technology, I found that S&T rarely “solved” problems, I concluded that we are content with efforts that merely “cope” with world-wide problems. A second example is world-wide starvation and a world-wide effort to achieve Zero-Population Growth (ZPG) running side-by-side in 1970.

S&T were entering the challenge of two competing efforts at the same time In their attempt to “solve” world-wide starvation in 1970, Dr. Norman Borlaug was awarded the Nobel Prize for developing a highly productive strain of wheat that produced 5-7 times more yield than traditional seed. His efforts resulted in population growth at the apex of ZPG’s most alarming fears. Again, problems were not solved by S&T; they were “coped” with while spurring new problems. Society continued to turn to S&T to attempt to extract Society from problems that arose from S&T’s earlier attempts to solve problems. The “Cope Philosophy” was born.

Fast-forward to 1989

The new World Problem is defined by our President as a “War on Drugs”, primarily the drug that is only produced in South America from the Chemical reaction of the Coca leaf and its primary, Central Nervous System (CNS) Stimulant, ERTHROXYLON.

Many Detectives in the U.S. tracked the “war” but we only rarely saw a victory. Additionally, we saw no language that called for eradication of the crop/plant. Instead of seeing the effort as a “war”, some Detectives saw it as a mere effort to “Cope” with a problem…while never eliminating the problem…never “winning” the “war.”

In the following, serialized, “The ERTHROXYLON Solution” this fictional story has two Detectives actually “Solving” the problem by an ingenious, biological effort that was successful. Eradication was the means. Treaties and the livelihood of peasants were ignored - especially given examples of the death, in 1986, of Basketball player Len Bias two days after his being signed by the Boston Celtics.

https://www.espn.com/espn/eticket/story?page=bias&redirected=true

One writer explained how the volume of Cocaine Bias self-administered caused his heart to explode.

At around the half-way point, I will request a small fee to the 2nd half of the story.

At the conclusion, I will issue, if the interest is high enough, a 2nd serialized story

which has two fictional detectives eradicating the Poppy plant around the world.

Yes, I know how Chemists are producing synthetics, however, the chemists have not eradicated these two crops by displacement of the desire for the originals. I hope you enjoy this first story I wrote in 1993.

Chapter 1. The Revolving door.

The silence of his surveillance was broken when he eased down the window and

tossed out the empty pistachio shells. The shells joined others and piled up, like the

accumulated sand in an hourglass, indicating how long Joe Crain and Charlie Sythe

had been staking out the Seven Eleven Store.

Backed into an alley, engine off, dark and separated from the Seven-Eleven by four

lanes of traffic, they took turns with the binoculars issued by the Department. They

were not looking for robbers.

As the hours dragged on, the two detectives occupied their time by reviewing and

rehashing previous cases. By the late 1980's, most robbers had enough sense to select

easier and more profitable marks like grocery stores or ATM machines. Crain couldn't

remember a Seven-Eleven robbery since 1985 when Crystal Bennet, on a snowy

Christmas Eve, did two - a mile apart. Crystal, planning and wanting to make her

getaway without having to back-up, had backed her car to the front of the Seven-

Eleven and parked it in front of the entry doors. Intoxicated, she entered the store

carrying a BB Rifle and announced the robbery. Wearing no mask, with no gloves on

her hands, Crystal demanded a twelve-pack of beer, a carton of cigarettes and all the

money in the cash register. Complying, the clerk handed her the cigarettes, the beer

and $ 13.23. As she entered her car and turned-on the lights, the clerk recorded the

illuminated license plate number. Within an hour, Crystal had struck again, the

second robbery was at her neighborhood Seven-Eleven, three blocks from her home.

No, Sythe and Crain were not waiting for a robbery at the Seven-Eleven, they were

trolling for the garbage that collects at Seven-Elevens. As amateur sociologists,

theyhad conducted years of study. In this small town, each theory tested and

confirmed what they already knew. They knew the "fishing holes", the spots they

could watch to catch a crook. Mostly, it was small time petty crimes. On Friday and

Saturday evenings they watched teenagers approach adults, exchange conversation,

then cash. The teens retreated to the shadows or their cars as the adults purchased

booze. When the second transfer was made, backup was requested, two stops were

made and Crain and Sythe decided to follow the "Good & Plenty" girls after they

entered a purple low rider driven by an “ElSal” they'd never seen before. As the car

headed in to the section of the county which was its barrio, the Detectives lost sight

of the vehicle when they were blocked by a bus. Driving through the streets that

separated the brick slums, they spotted the car. They checked the car as they walked

the area and it was empty. "How are we gonna find where they went," Sythe said,"

there must be fifteen hundred apartments here."

Rounding the corner of a building they spotted a line of men. Twenty or so lounged

along a stairwell that led down to a laundry room and other men were joining the line

from all directions. Each wore his ElSal costume: black pants, black jacket, baseball

cap, mustache, work boots covered with Virginia clay. Each clutched cash in his hand.

The two Detectives were out of place but their presence interrupted no activity. As a

craps game grew more vocal in the stairwell, the Detectives knelt and peered through

the window to the laundry-room. There, on the floor, they witnessed American

enterprise. The "Good & Plenty" girls were turning tricks on the laundry-room floor

before a gallery of anxious customers. As one man left, another took his place. Ten

dollars each. It was payday in the barrio.

"Who gave them the name, "Good & Plenty", anyway," asked Crain.

"Don't you remember, that day we got Tyrone passed-out on the floor of the

Cafeteria mensroom with the syringe still stuck in his arm ?", ", Sythe responded, "he

said he scored his Heroin from the "Good & Plenty" girls. Later on, that night, he

pointed them out to us. Remember? You commented how stupid we'd been for all

those months. We would see the girls at the pay phones but we didn't have a clue.

That one, Tanya, asked you for a quarter once and you gave it to her, said she needed

to make a call. Tyrone said they got the name because they were available at all hours,

they were cheap and most ofthe men said that they got plenty !*

"Gimme sommore pistachios," Crain said. "Do you think disease will ever make

them stop? They look so thin now. Wonder if they've got AIDS?"

"Who knows', answered Sythe,' did you see Tyrone's hands the last time we locked

him up? He told me that his veins had collapsed on his arms and he was finding veins

between his fingers."

"They've got to get it into their brains, cross that blood-brain barrier, bathe those

receptors with the drug of choice, abscesses, infection, disease, arrest, children,

family…nothing bothers them. It's so greedy, they only care about themselves. It's like

their brain doesn't care about its host body, it doesn't care if the body gets arrested,

infected or fed, it just wants to be washed by the drug," Crain stopped talking and

handed the binoculars to Sythe, “I’m going to piss."

As Crain walked to the rear of the car, Sythe continued to watch the Seven Eleven

and asked him through the open window, "did I tell you about the lab reports on

Donald Lord's heart infection? You know, the guy I got for Grand Larceny but we had

to take him to the hospital and guard him for two days? He had a floral infection

inside the chambers of his heart, got it from shootin' up with a dirty needle. Not a

bacterial infection, not a disease of the heart, a floral infection. A colony was growing

inside his heart without sunlight. I studied that stuff at college, too bad these

knuckleheads don't know or care. It's supposed to end up being fatal for old Donald.

Hey, come here, I think Tyrone just met some guy gettin' out of a Pathfinder and he's

goin' to score !"

Crain got back behind the wheel and squinted to see across to the shadows.

"There's the money... there's a baggy... looks like rock, Tyrone put it into his left front

pocket, the guy's driving off, let's go."

"Yo! Tyrone ! When did you get out of jail? What's happenin' 7", asked Sythe

as he exited the unmarked cruiser and approached Tyrone.

"Shit, 'got out yesterday... how come you guys always stoppin' me ? I ain't done

nothin', man*, Tyrone volunteered.

"Tyrone, Sythe said as he displayed his binoculars, I been watchin' you."

"Oh, man, shit, I knew you guys been hiden' over there across from the Seven-

Eleven, remember that time I walked up and talked to you guys about the "Good &

Plenty" girls that you was watchin"? What'd you see tonight ?"

"Tyrone, Crain said, I just had marked units stop your buddy in the Pathfinder, he

was still holdin' other little baggies of rock, he's ready to sing. Do you want to sing

first ? We want to know who his supplier is, we want big fish, we can throw you back.

Empty your pockets onto the hood of the car, you're under arrest.”

The fishin' hole produced two felony arrests.

Chapter 2. Genesis of an Idea.

The thick steel door slammed shut behind them and Crain and Sythe walked across

the County Jail's parking lot, back to their cruiser.

"While you were booking Tyrone and talking to the Magistrate, I called dispatch,'

Sythe said,' do you know that our arrest of Tyrone was number 50? We've, the

Department, arrested him 50 times !"

"How many were for drugs?," asked Crain.

"I knew you'd ask, 28,' responded Sythe' and I bet most of the other 22 had

somethin' to do with Tyrone tryin' to get property he could sell for money to get drugs."

"Sometimes I think they should take that door, we just went through, off its hinges

and install one of those big department store revolving doors, the way we put them in

and the courts put them out… we'll always have work, always have the same cast of

characters to arrest,' mused Crain. 'Nobody wants to solve problems, they just get

pushed ahead."

As Sythe drove onto the Interstate that led to the Police Department, he turned to

Crain and said, "T'm ready." "Ready for what ?," asked Crain.

"Ready for lesson number 500 from Crain on society's inability to solve problems.

You know our partnership these twelve years have sharpened my debate skills and my

wife tells me I've become quite the problem solver at home.**

"Bullshit, you're making fun of the theory I proposed in College Philosophy that I

refer to all the time. Can I help it if each time we see examples of society's failed

efforts at dealing with problems, it just reinforces my theory? Look, you're the guy

with the college degree in Botany, I still don't understand how you got into police

work," Crain said.

" What has my getting a Degree in Botany got to do with your point about

society's failures at solving its problems ?", asked Sythe.

"Simple", answered Crain,' if you want to rid your garden of a shrub, do you prune

it back or pull it out by the roots ?"

"I still don't see your point, Joe," Sythe asked.

"If your bicycle keeps getting flat tires. how many times are you goin' to apply a

patch before you realize you better buy a new innertube? The point is, every day, you

and I solve problems and prevent their recurrence, we don't want to deal with

problems over and over again. Why should society be content to deal with problems

over and over again? Why should our Police Department have to arrest the same guy

50 times? Why should the ladies in the clerk's office have to put Tyrone's name on the

docket for fifty different court dates? Why should we have to drive him to jail 50

times? Why ?", Crain demanded.

"Hey, Joe, that's the way our society is, ain't no other way," Sythe responded.

"Yes there is. Thinking leaders can reject approaches to problem solving that only

delay or postpone problems. If they would set goals that attempted to solve problems,

for once, and for always, our jobs would be easier and society would be better. That's

Crain, 201. Last time I rambled on, that night we got the guy with the flowers in his

heart, that was Crain 102."

"Flora, not flowers, Joe," Sythe corrected Crain.

"What's the difference? ", Crain queried. Crain, whose beetle brows resembled

those of Neanderthal Man as drawn by artists, had little understanding of Sythe's

college major field of study. He had gone to college on a Baseball Scholarship and his

interest in Baseball exceeded his interest in his studies. Crain had devoted his

greatest academic study to Physiology after suffering a sports injury. During his

Junior year, while going to the wall on a long fly ball in the Conference finals, Crain

crashed into the wall and blew-out his left knee joint. A year of rehab had failed to

bring him back to speed and his opportunities for playing professional baseball were

left in the outfield of his college ballpark. Despite the lone, three-inch-long, visible

scar on Crain's knee, the athlete's heart which beat inside his six foot frame would

always ache for things desired but unfulfilled. Along with Physical Education courses,

Crain took as many Philosophy courses as his schedule permitted.

"While you were wearing a toga and talking about shadows on some cave wall

and pissin' off your classmates in college philosophy classes, didn't you ever take a

Biology Course? Chemistry ?, Sythe asked.

"What's the difference ?” Crain shot back.

Sythe answered, "What do you think a fungus is ? Did you ever get jock itch

from not taking your jock home and washing it ? Athlete's Foot ? Have you looked

closely on the mold culture you're developing on that left over pizza you forgot to

remove from the trunk last week ? I haven't got the time to give you Sythe 101 because

Biology and Botany are too complex, get a book Joe."

"What do I need to learn? You got jock itch, you spray somethin' on it, it goes

away. Problem solved. Got algae in your swimming pool, get algaecide and kill it, wipe

it out. You guys in Botany have the right idea. You solve problems. Criminal Justice,

Sociology, they don't solve anything. O.K., O.K executions, yea, they solve the problem

of one homicidal offender, he isn't going to kill anybody else. But Tyrone, we'll be

seein' him again, you know it and I know it, hey, stop there, I need to go through the

swingin' doors of the Seven-Eleven, the kids need milk.”

Crain entered the store, purchased milk and returned to the police cruiser.

"Don't think I forgot your comment about my pissin' off my Philosophy

classmates," Crain said.

"You're the one who told me, Joe," Sythe answered.

"None of them, not even the Professor, saw the logic. Solutions to problems end

things, they don't let them continue. Can you imagine, the entire class in my Science

and Technology course believed that D.D.T. eliminated insects and "solved" the

world's insect-crop dessimation problem? They couldn't see my point that Science

and Technology and D.D.T. created problems. So who pissed who off, Sythe ?"

Sythe answered, "I don't know, but here's your house, I’ll see you in the

morning."

"Goodnight tree lover," Crain uttered to Sythe as he exited the car.

*Hey, Crain, get that mold infested pizza out of the trunk before we culture some

new Italian strain of mold," Sythe shouted as he released the trunk catch.

Crain removed the pizza, deposited it into a trash can and entered his home

through the side door of the garage.

Chapter 3. Propaganda and Failed Policy.

As Sythe honked the horn outside Crain's home, Crain gulped his coffee, looked at

his watch and cursed the morning news as a commercial for a local substance abuse

clinic interrupted the segment Crain was waiting to see...

At Genesis House, you can start over again. Our Counselors have created

a program to treat every addiction. Come to Genesis House and leave

your troubles behind. When you leave Genesis House, you will have the

rest of your life ahead of you. Genesis House, accepting all Major Medical

Plans and H.M.O. Coverage. Call 555-ANEW !

Sythe honked the hom again, Crain switched the T.V. off, set down his coffee, dashed

through the front door of his home and joined Sythe in the cruiser.

"Turn on the news, the D.E.A. Administrator made some big announcement last

night. I missed hearing it on the morning news because some damn drug clinic ad was

on when you started honking the horn," Crain was urgent.

"Man, how much coffee did you have this morning? Calm down, I've got good

news for you today, my wife and 1 are SO L V I N G a problem," Sythe said as he tuned

the radio to a news station.

"You're goin' to solve a problem today, OK, I'll bite, what is it ?" Crain asked.

Sythe answered, "You remember that puppy we tried to give your daughter last

year? Well, that was our bitch's third litter in three years. Yate's dog, over on Greeley."

In the news yesterday... D.E.A. Administrator Robert Bonnell announced

major successes in three D.E.A. programs initiated last year..."I am pleased

to announce that our border interdiction effort, ‘Operation Interception’ has

exceeded our expectations and continues to crimp Cocaine smuggling

efforts by air and sea. We have, in coordination with the U.S. Coast Guard

and Customs, interdicted a total of 2,800 pounds of pure Cocaine under

this program. Our second program of alternative crop subsidies has

witnessed the planting of 5,000 new acres of former coce plants with

Colombian Coffee plants and, finally, working with Treasury, we have

seized 10 million dollars in a Cartel based money laundering scheme

involving Dade County bankers who failed to file the required

C.T.R.s.. that's Currency Transaction Reports... for each deposit exceeding

$10,000”... In other news..

"Bullshit", Crain said,' Bullshit, that guy Bonnell, what a scam. Do you think the

American public believes that stuff? Nobody's crimping anything, our borders are like

a sieve. You know that D.E.A. Agent we were talking to last week, Goldman? He just

got back from Ecuador. Said they're pulling up coffee bushes by the thousands to

make room for more coca plants, got greenhouses where they grow coca seedlings,

little kids out planting. Said those people didn't even drink coffee when they grew it,

boiled water with some coca leafs in the pot, kept 'em going all day long at high

altitudes. How come Bonnell didn't talk about the other crop being planted ? . What

were you saying about Yate's dog ?"

"He's a hound dog, not really, I think he's a Spaniel of some sort, but when there's

a female in the neighborhood and she's in heat, Yate's dog can climb a six foot fence

for sex. The dog is a sex hound. I caught him in the act the last time, but it was too

late, nine weeks later... ten puppies !*, Sythe shook his head

"So how are you and your wife solving the problem today?," Crain asked.

"She's goin' to the vet, sterilization. No more puppies, no more puppy chow. No

more puppy shots and tryin' to dump puppies on half the guys in the police

department. I'm solving that problem, it's history !", Sythe boasted

"That certainly is final, a lot better than what Bonnell's talking about... stop-gap

measures, interdiction... sterilization. Too bad we couldn't sterilize all the women in

South America. Can you imagine, 20, 30 years from now, they would have to have

migrant laborers go to South America to plant coca bushes, pick coca leaves", Crain

said.

"Yea, maybe it would make the Mexicans head south instead of North, it might

end two of our problems, but you gotta look at reality Joe, you ain't gonna sterilize all

the women in South America," Sythe suggested.

"Anyway, I'm glad to see you and your wife are solving problems instead of just

building a higher fence to keep out Yate's dog, that's what the government would do, it

doesn't really solve problems. Bonnell should go into politics," Crain said as he

articulated his favorite complaint.

"By the way, Joe, what was that crack you made last night, callin' me a "tree

lover? What's wrong with trees ?", Sythe joked.

"I guess nothing is wrong with trees. Look, when I was a kid growing up in New

Jersey, beginning to hunt migratory waterfowl, my parents gave me Audobon's “Birds

of America” and I read about the Passenger Pigeon, which has been extinct. The

market hunters wiped them out. Audobon wrote that the skies used to be darkened by

millions of birds in one massive flight. There isn't one left on the face of the carth. I

think they have a stuffed one at the Smithsonian, came from the Zoo in Cincinnati. I

used to get sad when I would think about how man could kill an entire species. Old

women and men still lament the passing of the Passenger Pigeon. But you, you talked

to me one day about some tree that died, you talked about it like it was a puppy or the

Passenger Pigeon, in fact, I remember thinking that you were as sad about your tree

story as I was when I read about the extinction of the Passenger Pigeon," Crain

lamented.

"I don't see any difference, Joe. what's the difference ?" Sythe asked

"The pigeon is an animal, it has a heart that pumps blood. I know that trees have

sap & you guys can compare sap to blood, but a tree doesn't have a heart. It isn't an

animal, no lungs, that's the way I see it,' Crain said,' didn't you tell me some long story

one night - when we were doing that long stakeout where you did the search warrant

and shut down that drug dealer, that White guy ?"

"Dutch Elms."

There was a long period of silence after Sythe uttered those two words. As Crain

sat waiting for Sythe's response, they pulled into the Courthouse parking lot and

entered the Courthouse.

Chapter 4. For Cops Who Care, Some Things Are Just Not For Them To Control.

"The Case of the Commonwealth versus Ted White, al rise."

As the Clerk announced Judge Winthrop's name, the Judge took charge, "read the

charges."

"Ted White is charged with the six felonies to wit: that on or about the 5th day of

April, nineteen hundred and eighty-nine, Ted White did, within the County of Fairfax,

within the Commonwealth of Virginia commit the following : 1. Possess Marijuana

With the Intent to Distribute, 2. Possess Cocaine, 3. Possess Psilocybin Mushrooms

with the Intent to Distribute, 4. Possess Hash Hish with the Intent to Distribute, 5.

Possess L.S.D. with the Intent to Distribute and 6. Distribute Marijuana."

"Mr. White, how do you plead?"

White's Attorney rose and spoke, "Your honor, we have an agreement with the

Commonwealth."

Judge Winthrop looked towards Commonwealth Attorney Roemar who

responded, " Your honor, the Commonwealth recommends that, in exchange for a

plea of guilty to three felonies, the Commonwealth will drop the other three charges."

"Mr. White, please rise, is it your understanding that you are pleading guilty to

three felonies which each carry a maximum sentence of 20 years because you are

indeed guilty ?"

White answered, "yes, your honor."

*Very well, I sentence you to ten years on each charge with eight years suspended

on each. I sentence you to serve two years on each charge and that you serve those

years concurrently, Next Case."

"That's it, Ray, from 30 years down to two years, you agreed to that deal", asked

Crain.

“Yes, I did. The guy had no criminal history, no record, he's a first time offender,”

said Roemar.

"How many years wil he actually serve, Ray ?" asked Sythe.

Roemar's answer made Crain and Sythe feel worthless, "If White goes in and

behaves himself, under Virginia law, he may only have to serve two or three months."

"Let's see, 30 years down to six, six down to two, two years down to two months,

not bad. Three hundred sixty months potential and only two to serve, we're in the

wrong business Joe," said Sythe.

"Ray, why should we be investing so much time and energy in building a case,

securing and executing a search warrant so you can give away three of the charges and

agree to such a whimpy sentence ?," Crain asked.

"You guys got into law enforcement for your own reasons, maybe you should be

asking yourselves these questions. You're supposed to lock them up and give me a

case, the Commonwealth takes it from there. You did a good job, he'll come back, I

gotta go prepare for a murder trial, see ya."

Crain and Sythe walked through the courthouse, across the parking lot and entered

the car as they had done hundreds of times before.

"I'll drive, you can tell me the story about Dutch Elms," Crain volunteered.

"No, Joe. I'll drive, I want to take you somewhere," Sythe stated.

"O.K., while your driving, we can remind ourselves why we got into law

enforcement,' Crain said. "You know it's funny...the Captain says that every applicant

he ever interviewed answered one question the same way. They all said they wanted to

go into law enforcement so they could help people. I went in so I could lock-up bad

guys. That was important, at first, and I really felt good. But then we started seeing

the same guys back on the streets and 1 realized we were not solving any of society's

problems. Ray's right, you know, we did our job. Hey, why are you turning here?",

asked Crain.

*This street is Elm Avenue, not Dutch Elms, but it gives you an idea of why I'm

what you call a 'tree lover"," Sythe said.

Crain looked up and could no longer see the sky. The overhanging branches of the

May-leafed Elms arched the strect casting one large shadow on the pavement. The

bases of each tree, on each side of the street, were planted and grew in proportions

and scale that reminded Crain of the columns ringing the Lincoln Memorial. Elm

Avenue was a beautiful street.

"Joe, American towns and cites have hundreds of Elm Streets or Elm Avenues,

they are part of our westward movement and early city planning. The only thing, Joe, is

that there is no longer a solitary Dutch Elm standing, rooted or growing in North

America. All that is left are pictures.' He continued, ' To me, the extinction of Dutch

Elms is as important as the extinction of the Passenger Pigeon is to you. I guess the

'heart' you mentioned being inside the birds, I see the heart of the American people

in all of the neatly placed Elms they planted on small town streets like this,' Sythe's

eyes seemed distant and stared beyond the farthest tree on Elm Avenue,' and that's

the story you said I told you years ago.”

Chapter 5 “Under the Spreading Elm Tree”

Sythe was shorter than Crain, but he was heavier, weighing about 195 pounds. He

moved his compact body out from behind the steering wheel and walked to a grassy

area between two Elms.

Crain sat down, under those trees, and peeled-off a piece of bark which seemed to

flake-off of every Elm. As he broke small pieces off the brittle bark, he said, "How do

you guys know an Elm from a Poplar, Dutch Elm from American ? Where do you

begin to learn the species ?"

"Basically, trees break into two groups; deciduous or those bearing leaves which

turn brown and fall off each year and produce seeds like the acorn or the whirlybird

from the Maple that we played with as children. The other group is coniferous or

evergreens like pine trees, cedars, firs and hemlocks. Their seeds usually come in the

form of cones, like pine cones," Sythe answered.

"But how do you know what kind of tree a tree is, specifically? How do you

distinguish one type of Elm from all the other Elms ?," asked Crain.

"For the most part, leaves, seeds and bark. You know the F.B.I. lab has a sample

of almost every leaf, seed and wood found in America. Our training and formal

education required a lot of book study as well as field study. In the lab at school, we

had indices of thousands of leaves. Slides of each wood's cellulose cells, they're

different, you know. Remember the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case? The government, in

that case, used a "Wood Expert" to trace wood found in the kidnap ladder to a mill in

South Carolina. Southern Yellow Pine.," Sythe was animated, pacing.

"So what happened to the Dutch Elm? Did Weyerbacuser cut them all down or

did a hungry bunch of termites with a taste for Dutch Elms get turned loose ?," Crain

asked.

" Neither...it was the Dutch Elm Disease.' Sythe bent down studying a speck of

bark, ' It was also called the Dutch Elm Blight. Blight is really a frightening term

because it means rapid deterioration or total ruin, which is precisely what happened

to the Dutch Elms. When we think of diseases, we tend to think of cures. There were

no cures for sick Dutch Elms. At a point in time when the blight or disease was

discovered, it was too late to do anything about it. All the American Botanists were

able to do was to darken in maps which plotted the spread of the disease, showing the

stark reality of the Dutch Elm's demise. No one could rescue the Dutch Elm and now

it's gone. Just like your Passenger Pigeon."

Crain stood up and walked over to a low branch, pulled off a single leaf, examined

it, "Where did this blight come from? Why did it come when it did ? Why weren't

there any resistant strains of the tree ?™

"I guess the blight could best be compared to a fog or mist that we awake to find

one morning. We couldn't predict when it would come, once it came, there was

nothing we could do about it and it departed when it was ready to go. Dutch Elm

lovers were helpless and felt helpless. Even now, when I study the extinct tree, I am

reminded that it is lost forever."

"What have we done, Sythe? How did we get from the classroom to the cruiser?

From text books to code books? Courtroom to Elm Avenue ?" Crain waxed

philosophical.

"When I first learned of the Dutch Elm blight, I wished I could go back in time and

find a cure or prevent the disease, that was a pipe dream. I've lost so much of my

idealism since becoming a cop. When 1 think of the Dutch Elm, I think of myself. A

part of me has been lost. I would like to get it back, but I don't know how."

"I know what you mean, Sythe. I feel the same way when I look at Audobon's

painting of the last Passenger Pigeon. By the way, how come you keep saying 'in

America or U.S.' Doesn't the F.B.l. lab have leafs and seeds and wood from every

species in Central and South America ?"

"That's a good question Joe, and the answer is no. A lot of Botanists believe that

thousands of South American and Brazilian plant species are uncateloged.

Pharmacologists are visiting South America in search of naturally occurring plants

and trees in search of cures for cancer and heart disease. For medicine, South America

is the frontier."

"We've got to get back to headquarters. We've got that meeting with Lt.

McQueen' Crain said, as he looked at his watch ' at least these Elms haven't been

wiped-out. "

Chapter 6. Serving at the Pleasure of the Chief of Police.

"Good morning, Rusty, we're here to see Lt. McQueen," announced Crain as he

addressed the Lieutenant's Secretary.

"Have some Coffee, I'll se if he's busy."

"Do you know what this is all about, Rusty ?"

"You better talk to him."

Sythe looked out the secretary's window and noticed a squirrel, stationary, erect.

Some disturbance outside provoked the squirrel to ascend the tree trunk and rest

upon a safe limb, chattering. As Lt. McQueen entered the office and greeted the men,

Sythe noticed the squirrel's descent from the limb.

"C'mon in, sit down men, I've got some good news for you today. You're

receiving an award from the Chief," the Lieutenant said. Crain looked at Sythe. Both

men searched their memories for a hint at what they'd done to deserve an award and

became perplexed. Interpreting the looks on their faces, McQueen said, "Gentlemen,

remember when you were transferred from the uniform division twelve years ago and

came under my command here in the investigations unit? That was a lateral transfer

made at the direction of the Chief It was not a promotion, you know that. Today, the

Chief is presenting each of you with an award for your twelve years of dedicated

service in the investigation unit. Let’s walk down to his office."

As they walked the length of the hallway, Sythe and Crain knew that they had just

received a box of Cracker Jacks. They knew, from dozens of instances like this, that

after the meeting with the Chief; they would discover the surprise.

"Hi Jenny, could you tell the Chief that my Detectives are here to receive their

awards ? Also... did you ask Jenkins to come down for the photographs of the

presentations ?" McQueen asked.

As they waited for the Chief, Sythe recalled a day from the past with the clarity of

present vision. Sythe remembered Arbor Day, 1977. He would never forget that day

because it was the day the Chief transferred him from Patrol to Investigations. He and

Crain had combined in solving dozens of major felony cases and finally won the

opportunity to transfer to investigations. Feeling the smooth surface of his Detective

badge within his coat's left pocket, Sythe remembered the tree. On the day he made

Detective, a small sapling had been planted outside the police department by local

school children. That tree, was the one ascended by the squirrel he'd seen earlier. The

tree and he had developed together. Sythe grew as a Detective to the point where he

was a strong force in the law enforcement community, the criminals steered clear of

him, defense attorneys respected him, informants and Judges trusted him and

prosecutors wished he wouldn't bring them so much work. Just as Sythe had grown,

the sapling was now tall and strong, with thirteen annual rings to witness Sythe's

anniversary of becoming a Detective.

"Men, good morning. C'mon in. Is the camera ready ? Stand over here. I want

photos of presentations with each individually, then together, then with the

Lieutenant," the Chief said.

Crain thought about Cracker Jacks and surprises.

After the photos, the Chief invited the Detectives and Lieutenant to sit down,

"Men, ' he said, ' you have served the department and the community well in your

twelve-year assignment as Detectives. I reviewed your files last week and was quite

impressed to read the letters and commendations you've received. I noted that neither

one of you competed for the last three Sergeants Examination. Nevertheless, our

careers must move on and I'm transferring you back to patrol..not immediately."

Sythe and Crain stared hard at Lt. McQueen because they knew that he had

knowledge of the switch but preserved the surprise. They looked back at the Chief,

Crain wanted to run out of the office and quit. He recalled movies where bold

detectives slammed their badges down and stormed out of the Chief's office over some

point of personal honor but he couldn't feel that impulse. Making the rank or position

of Detective or Investigator was a career distinction appreciated by most police

officers. Sure, many Patrol Officers prided themselves in wearing blue uniforms,

patrolling the streets, resolving any variety of disputes. Some patrol officers even

entered national competitions for determining the best patrol officers. That was all

well and good. But patrol officers rarely had the opportunity to pit their wits against

an intelligent criminal. Detectives were sometimes required to spend hundreds of

hours solving cases, then spend additional hours tracking down the perpetrators.

Detectives had to develop interview and interrogation skills, informants as well as law

enforcement contacts in other counties and states. Crain remembered the boasting of

one contented patrol officer who said," when my shift is over, I take off my uniform

and go home. When I hang up my uniform and gun, I also hang up the job. During my

shift, I work the streets, make my arrests, issue the tickets; then I go home and leave it

all behind. You detectives take your jobs home with you, that's why I don't want to be

a detective." The impulse Crain felt was disgust and powerlessness. He had seen

other officers over the years attempt to grieve being transferred and he knew the

outcome. The Chief had the power to transfer an officer, they serve at his pleasure.

*I’ve told Lt. McQueen that you've got two weeks to wrap up your open cases

and familiarize your replacements with the cases they'll inherit. Lt. McQueen also

knows that you are to be given latitude from your patrol duties for Court appearances.

Congratulations again gentlemen, have a good day."

As Crain walked, dazed, wondering where he'd put his uniforms twelve years

earlier, Sythe wondered if he would still fit into his. The next wave of realization that

hit each Detective was the thought of what others would think. Family, crooks,

attorneys, Judges, cops; each would have trouble believing the truth - the transfer was

a routine transfer.

"Sorry I had to keep a secret from you guys, ' McQueen said, ' but you know the

Chief. Once he makes up his mind, it's final. Maybe you'll like patrol. I've got some

paper I've got to push, see ya later."

Sythe felt so alone and abandoned that he walked outside the building and stood

by his anniversary tree. His movement sent the squirrel scurrying up an older tree. As

he thought about his selection twelve years earlier on Arbor Day, Sythe recalled the

squirrel. As he watched it earlier, he'd seen it go up the tree and reach a certain

height. Because of some disturbance, he'd seen the squirrel go down to the bottom of

the tree. The sense of being at the bottom, of having fallen from some height of

personal attainment, anguished Sythe. For a cop to feel that he was involved in

something over which he had no control was like learning the emotions that victims

experience. Helpless, searching, alone, Sythe stared back at the staring squirrel, now

perched high on the limb of another tree.

Moments passed. A sense of serenity reached Sythe as a blue jay shrieked at a

stealthy cat, off, in the distance. "I felt this way years ago when I decided not to go to

graduate school and to take this lousy cop job. This squirrel came down this tree and

wanted to go back up. But I blocked him and he moved on. The squirrel climbed

another tree. Whew, I've been hangin' around Crain too long. I'm even starting to

think philosophically. I better find Joe," Sythe thought to himself:

Chapter 7. At the F.O.P.

The Fraternal Order of Police was a dark building. Dark outside and dark inside.

Perhaps the alcohol brightened the inside, at least many of the exiting officers

believed that it was bright inside. The reality was that many officers went to the F.O.P.

to get drunk. To forget about their day, their jobs and their lives. The reality was that

when men went to the F.O.P., they sought darkness. Darkness and alcohol, alcohol and

sleep, sleep and freedom from reality. Possessed by his own dark mood, Crain went to

the F.O.P. for the alcohol.

"How long have you been here, Joe 7, " asked Sythe.

"Two beers', Crain answered, ' Louie, give us each a beer here. Well have you

been getting your cases in order, taking your old uniforms to the tailor & dry cleaner,

being a good little obedient robot of the department? The Chief s a jerk. This isn't

about the quality of our work, it's about giving some younger guys the chance to be

detectives, I'm not going to be able to handle this too well."

The beers came. Sythe sipped his, stared at a bubble that formed at the bottom of

his glass, then forced its way to the surface, "Maybe we should look at ourselves and

not be critical of the department or the Chief. Even Lt. McQueen, the other jerk, we

shouldn't even be critical of him. Perhaps the problem is us."

"What do you mean, us ?."Crain bellowed as he set his empty glass on the bar.

"What did we do ?"

"Joe, today, after they dropped the surprise on us, I stood outside. near that tree

by the stairwell. I found myself thinking like you. You know how you keep pushing an

idea or an argument to an end ? Well, I had to look at myself then. I got a little help

from a squirrel, but I did look at myself. We make choices in life. Once we do, if

things don't go the way we want, we shouldn't blame others, we should look at

ourselves instead. Look into the mirror, not at others. My wife, Sarah, calls it

'transferring blame'."

"But what did we do to deserve today's transfer back to patrol ?," Crain nodded

towards the bartender for a refill.

"Joe, by accepting an assignment that lasted as long as 'the Chief's pleasure' lasted

is what we did wrong. We knew when we accepted the job and the Detective badges

that there were no guarantees. What we did wrong was to believe that by doing a

good job, we could protect and prolong our status. It's like the Minister said in

Church this Sunday, 'the Lord can take us any day, our life is only as long as the Lord

permits', Well, for us and our lives as Detectives on this Police Department, the Chief

is the Lord and our lives ended today...or in two weeks. We had no guarantee.*

" I gotta piss," Crain said.

Chapter 8. Look into the Mirror.

Crain made it to the bathroom at the F.O.P. and saw Sgt. Romer as he exited a

stall. "Hey Crain, ' Romer said, ' I hear you'll be joining my squad in two weeks. Think

you'll remember how to complete a traffic summons? We work radar on Tuesdays &

Thursdays and foot patrols the rest of the time at the shopping centers. I'm thinking of

pairing you up with that rookie Snyder. Check with me next week for the paperwork

you'll need to get back in the groove. It's been a long time."

As Crain drained the urine from his bladder, he considered Romer's latest news.

Crain and Sythe hadn't even considered being separated as partners. The transfer

would be hard enough, but losing his partner.... Crain routinely zipped up and started

to wash his hands at the sink. As he washed he looked into his face and his eyes

which were reflected in the mirror. The noise of drunken comrades receded from his

consciousness, the water running in the sink, bar noises from the noisy crowd

outside; all receded. All he could do was look at himself.

" What have I done ? What responsibility do I have for what is happening to me

right now? How can I take back the control of my life and career ?"

As Crain pondered those questions, a cockroach entered his field of view and

raced along the wall and ran behind the mirror. Crain thought about extermination.

His mind, like his life, wandered without focus or direction. A cockroach had diverted

his thoughts from self to pest control. But racing at a greater speed, Crane's

subconscious was struggling to assimilate disparate threads of anger, conviction,

determination and frustration. As the noise of the running water re-gained presence

in his conscious thought, Crain knew what he had to do. He turned the water off and

looked at his watch. He had been in the bathroom for thirty minutes. He looked

deeply into the mirror. The problem was indeed himself and, with Sythe's help, Crain

knew how to solve the problem.

Sythe was throwing darts with a gal from the ID. section. "Where did you go,

Joe ? We've played three games of darts & I've lost ten bucks to Wanda."

"I took your advice and now I have a plan," Crain stated.

"What advice was that, 1 didn't say anything about a plan... you've had too many

beers," Sythe said.

"Sythe, I looked into the mirror," Crain said, ' I know what we have to do."

Chapter 9. Conversation with a Cockroach.

Crain drove Sythe across the Potomac river. Parking the car, the partners walked

to a bench and sat in the shadow of the Vietnam soldiers statue at the Wall.

"Joe, ' Sythe said, ' I'll hear you out, but this is a whacky idea. Anybody who gets

inspired by a cockroach... well, you've just got to ask yourself how many beers the guy

had, you know ?"

"The cockroach was just a triggering device that spoke to my deeper self. Ever

hear about Id, ego and super ego; the three levels of consciousness, Sythe? The

Cockroach is like the Vietnam War. No matter how hard we fight, or how hard we

fought, the Cockroach and the Vietnamese were not defeated. They prevailed, we lost

or we lose. President Bush talks about a "War on Drugs' and everybody in society gets

pumped-up. I mean, people really believe that we can win that war, especially when

the President goes on National T.V. and commits resources and manpower. Last

month, the F.B.I director announced that he was assigning 200 Agents to D.C.'s street

homicide problem, last week Agent Prudhoe told me that al of the same 200 Special

Agents assigned to homicide are now being assigned to follow Iraqi Nationals who

live around D.C., nobody at the F.B.I. bothers to hold a news conference to tell the

public about the transfer. The public thinks that there are now 400 F.B.I. agents...

after this latest War on Drugs press conference, the F.B.I. Director announced that

he's dedicating 200 Agents to the Washington D.C. Drug Task Force. Now the public

thinks there are 600 Special Agents. It's like, they can clone them as needed. You and I

know that W.F.O. only has so many Agents, probably 250, and many of them work

bank robbery, car jacking, white collar. It's rhetoric."

"Joe, what does this have to do with our Cracker Jacks surprise today and transfer

back to uniform ?"

"We're not going back to uniform! We are going to solve a problem for once and

for all. They talk about a war on drugs... we're goin' to win one war on drugs and I

mean win."

"O.K., I'm listening, go on Joc."

Crain looked around before speaking. "Everybody in law enforcement wants to

solve problems, but nobody ever really solves problems. We arrest Tyrone, he goes

back to shootin' up. We lock-up the Good & Plenty Girls, they get out and turn tricks,

sell rock. We build a case against White and charge him with six felonies carrying a 60

year maximum penalty, he pulls two months and he's out. We don't solve problems,

the prosecutors don't solve problems and the courts don't solve problems. We kind of

push problems into the future. We really let problems continue. On the other hand,

you solved a problem today. You took your dog to the vet and had her sterilized.

Problem solved, no more puppies. President Bush says that he wants to solve the drug

problem. They talk about zero tolerance. That's what you and I have done for twelve

years. If a crook had any amount of an illegal narcotic, we busted him, even for

residue. If the lab could get a positive, we charged the guy, zero tolerance. But the

President's latest effort, the efforts of the D.E.A., F.B.I., Customs and all those other

alphabets have failed to solve the problem. Remember that D.E.A. Agent we met at

the airport in St. Louis when we extradited Bailey, he told us about some Governor in

the Southem States who was involved in some kind of South American gun or drug

smuggling? Well I'm beginning to believe that no one wants to solve the Cocaine

problem. Some of the liberals say the solution is in educating our kids at an early age,

treating addicts, etcetera. How does any of that stop a single leaf of coca from being

harvested in South America 7"

"Joe, you're charged-up. I don't want to piss you off or make fun of you, but you

are all over the place. It's like a stream of consciousness. You need to tie all of this

together so I can see your point. What has a cockroach got to do with this plan ?,"

Sythe asked.

"You are part of the key to my arriving at this plan. The cockroach is a constant

reminder of man's failure to eliminate or eradicate a pest. Worded another way, the

cockroach is a problem that mankind cannot solve. But man did eradicate, exterminate

the Passenger Pigeon, there is not one left. Man has eliminated the Bubonic Plague

and has eliminated Smallpox, so man can solve problems when he applies himself. But

the best thing I heard, that gives me hope for a solution to this Cocaine problem, is

what you told me about the Dutch Elm Blight or Disease. In other words, and you're

the Botanist, the Dutch Elm in North America was a plant or tree that had a natural

enemy. It doesn't really matter if it was a moth or insect, mite or chigger, or if it was a

fungus or spore, the thing that killed all of the Dutch Elms did so and there wasn't a

damn thing man could do about it. Like you said the other day, the Botanists could

only darken in the maps where the tree was extinct. Finally, the map was all dark."

"And how do you propose that you and I are going to fight the war on drugs and

win when the Federal Government and every state law enforcement agency has failed ?"

"Because you and I are problem solvers. I don't believe that our government

really wants to solve the problem. If they did, the battle would be fought on South

American soil, not on the streets of the United States."

"Joe, you need a reality check. How are we going to fight the war on drugs in our

blue uniforms, patrolling the streets of this piss-ass city seven miles from the Nations

Capital ?"

"We're not. We're not going to wear blue uniforms, patrol streets, spin the

revolving door for Tyrone or subject ourselves to the "pleasure" of the Chief. I have the

plan and you and I have the skills and determination to pull this off if we can keep a

secret. Is your passport current ?"

"Yes, it's current. What do you propose, we fly to South America and walk along

hillsides with weed whackers ?. Do you know how many hectares of coca there are in

South America and how resilient the plant is, Joe ?"

"No. That's where you come in. Look, imagine a Dutch Elm disease for the coca

plant. All of a sudden, those worthless South American peasants go out of their huts

one day and there aren't any green coca leafs to pick. Every single coca bush or tree is

denuded. Laying on the ground below each bush is the final harvest. Like the Jew's

Passover. During the night, some force will spread over South America and, like the

Dutch Elm Tree, the coca plant and all of its derivatives are history. Something to read

about in one of your college Botany books; the case of the mysterious coca blight.

Pretty neat reading, I'd say. Now I don't know a thing about bushes & shrubs, leaves

and bark, sap & roots, pollination, grafting, cross-pollination, but you do. You were

going to go to Graduate school to study the Dutch Elm disease and other species that

are near extinction. You let a police career interfere with your life's goals, so did I.

Now I see an opportunity for us to really solve a problem for the world and nobody

has to know about it. That's why we need to have secrecy."

"O.K. Joe, I agree that Cocaine is a problem that we want to solve but it will cost

money and enormous resources. How do we pull it off ?"

"First of all, it will only work if you can find or create a natural pest for the coca

plant. We don't need to oversee some long running project. No slash & burn, we don't

have to administer a crop alternative subsidy program in South America. Basically, we

need to study the coca plant and determine what its natural enemies are. If there are

none, we need to create some. Once we have the enemy of the coca plant we need to

spring it on the Continent and leave the Country. It's like becoming a biological or a

botanical secret agent. You're in and out and nobody knows what happened."

"Have you got any idea about the International law we would violate by entering

another country to let loose a pest or disease that eradicated one of their plants? It

could provoke an International incident or war !, Joe "

"Sythe, cocaine comes from those South American Countries. It doesn't grow in

the United States. Our President says that it is a war, against the drug...not against the

country where the drug is cultivated and harvested. How self-righteous, a country

produces a poison that finds its way across our border and poisons our people and we

don't call it an International incident. But if we cross their borders and try to

eliminate the poison, they cry foul? Put me on the plane, I'm ready to go. This entire

idea of mine calls for stealth and secrecy, Sythe. It won't work if the circle gets larger,

if more people learn of the plan. The only way it will work is when its too late for any

government to do anything about it. South America needs to have its own Dutch Elm

Disease and the plant in need of extermination is coca. On the way home, I'll tell you

what my ideas are for our plan of action."

Chapter 10, A Plan of Action.

"You know how the people in our country fear the so-called killer bees that are

supposed to enter the United States someday from South America? The Department of

Agriculture has hundreds of laws which prohibit the entrance to the United States of

vegetables and plants and animals. Years ago, a friend of mine had to quarantine his

dog before it could join him in Hawaii from the U.S. mainland. The reason we fear the

potential for these incidents is not because of some fear of a diabolical plot by people

hostile to our interests. We fear the importation of pests and plagues because we

know of the potential for uncontrolled spread and death. That is not the case for

wiping out the coca plant in South America. A pest or disease which is fatal and

specific to the coca plant, preferably a natural enemy of the coca plant, harms no law

abiding citizen in the world. Therefore, our plan has to seek and develop a one shot fix

which is irreversible. Once we find and unleash the pest or disease in South America,

the outcome will be pre-determined and final. For us to accomplish this; we need

secrecy and you need to hit the books. If you buy into my plan and we find enormous

luck, we should have coca's demise initiated within two months," Crain said as he

articulated his plan of action.

"For the next two weeks, Charlie, while wrapping-up our case work, I'll cover for

you as best as possible while you research everything there is to know about coca.

This way, you can do research over at the University of Maryland’s Agriculture library,

at the Universities in D.C. and try to find a chink in the armor of the coca plant. My

effort will include getting us positioned for two weeks leave by lobbying the Lt. and

the Chief in respect for our twelve years of service. I think they’ll agree. Next, I’ll have

to make a cover for getting out of town - fishing somewhere in Canada or something -

and I will need to get you a cover for doing research in a South American University

City that is located in the heart of coca country. If you find a lead in your research, I

will get us to South America. There, we'll have two weeks to plant the seed of the

demise of world coca. That's my plan, what do you say, Charlie ?™, Crain asked.

"I say you're crazy but we knew that. I will commit to secrecy and to giving two

weeks of research. I'll have to wait and see what the factors are for coca before

promising to do any more, Joe," Sythe responded.

"What do you mean, factors ?", Crain asked.

"Aldo Leopold," Sythe answered.

"I hate it when you give those short answers that make me ask more specific

questions. Who is Aldo Leopold ?", Crain demanded.

"Aldo Leopold is recognized as one of America's carliest environmentalists. In his

classic work on game management, he set forth the theory of welfare and control

factors which determine the viability of the survival of a species. For example, for a

herd of deer, the presence of a large apple orchard and a large com field, a stream and

wooded areas are what are known as welfare factors. Mix in hunters and natural

predators like wolves and throw in some diseases that afflict deer and you have what

are known as control factors. According to Leopold, and since proven and accepted in

botanical and biological science circles, if game managers increase control factors, a

species can be wiped out. The theory holds for plants as well and I first need to

research what control factors exist for coca. So, yes, I'm charged and I'm ready to start

tomorrow."

Chapter 11. Sythe Cuts a Path Through the Library.

It had been ten years since Sythe visited a library. On that last visit, he went to the

card file. Today, he went to the reference section and encountered a computer; a

computer unlike the National Criminal Information Center computer he'd learned to

use at the Police department.

Sythe found the reference librarian who could see the confusion displayed upon his

face. "Could you help me find some books, please?", Sythe asked.

The librarian responded to a reference terminal and said, "What topics are you

interested in finding ?'

What a question, how innocent, thought Sythe. Sythe realized how long he had

worked as a cop, investigating narcotics activity, arresting druggies. He knew that he

was a Detective, but the lady didn't know that. What would this lady think when he

asked for books on Cocaine and coca? The librarian didn't know he was a cop. Would

she report the request to Metropolitan Police? "South America, coca, Cocaine and

drugs of abuse, please ?, Sythe responded

After receiving a primer on reference computers, Sythe retrieved dozens of books

in English and Spanish. Retreating to the table which was most distant from the

watchful librarian, Sythe began his quest for facts.

As the librarian flicked the lights announcing that the library was closing, Sythe

hastily gathered the most relevant books and checked them out with his old college

I.D. which was valid through the consortium of colleges and universities. As he

walked down the stairs that led to his car, Sythe could see the librarian, inside an

office, closing the blinds. "Am I going to get paranoid now that we're plotting to do

good, he thought, no, she probably thinks I'm a druggie."

Chapter 12. Rendezvous at the Elm.

"Now I think I know why I became a cop and didn't go to grad school for the

degree in Botany,' Sythe whispered to Crain as he popped open a beer can below the

Elm tree on Elm Avenue, 'what did you do today? I worked my ass off."

Crain reported the activities of his day and related that the Lieutenant promised to

have their leave approved for two weeks. "How do you work your ass off at a Library,

Charlie ? By the way, it's a good idea that we meet here. Our secrecy on this project is

extremely important."

"I know, I had to deal with a suspicious librarian... thinks I'm a druggie or

something. Did you know they use computers at libraries now, Joe ?"

"What did you find out, today?"

"It's early. I did learn of the crop's range of cultivation. Venezuela, Chile,

Ecuador, Peru, Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, Columbia... coca grows all over the

place. Contrary to what a lot of Americans believe, however, Columbia is not the

major source state. Columbia is where the mob or organized criminal coordination

center is located, but Columbia is far from being the major producing country of

South America. But, in addition to all of the areas where coca is grown, you also have

to think in terms of altitude. Coca is very resilient and it grows at high altitude which

means cold climates. One of the books I checked out described how Spanish

explorers first learned of coca's power as a central nervous system stimulant when

they encountered Andes Indians who chewed coca leaves and improved their

endurance. It also stained their teeth almost black, the books had some photos of

some twenticth century Indian coca chewers. They were smiling, Joe. Gimme another

beer."

"What else, I have an idea about helping you find exactly where coca is grown, but

I'll tell you later, what else did you learn today?"

"There is a national love for coca. The books don't speak directly to the point,

you know, like the State flower in Virginia is the dogwood or magnolia and the

Legislature passed some act and made it official. In all the South American countries

that grow coca, the newspapers and books all refer to the leaf like it's a national

treasure. I mean...they have pictures of these high mountain peasants and their

families, smiling, coca leafs between their teeth, with three foot long bags slung over

their shoulders that are full of coca leaves. The caption under the picture says that

they make a dollar a bag for picking coca leaves. Other books describe how the

mountain labs mash the leaves with kerosene or gasoline and it makes a paste and

then a precipitate which is very pure and white. As you read this stuff, you get a sense

that the coca leaf is a national treasure or jewel. Hell, Crain, if we pull this off, we'll

end the war on drugs but probably start some other kind of war. A lot of people will

be mad."

"What about those control factors you talked about ? Does coca have any natural

enemies ? Pests ?"

"I've got to do more research. I've got to check with a professor I had that now

works at the National Zoo in the new Tropical Rain forest Exhibit and I need to get

over to the Smithsonian. There is one other thing I need to check. in the 1880's, a tin

mine in Bolivia was shut down by protesting Indians and the article mentioned a

shortage of their ration of coca leaves. It was very important to them. The article said

that is was like our Navy's rum ration for sailors, the tin miners were angry. What's

the idea you had for locating all of the continent's coca crops, Joe ?"

"N.P.I.C., Charlie, N.P.I.C. I'll check it out tomorrow with an old buddy of mine

and we'll talk about it tomorrow night, same time, same place."

Sythe looked at Crain and shook his head. Crain had always been a problem

solver. On one occasion, Sythe recalled, Crain responded to a county parking garage

after hearing a partial radio transmission asking for the assembly of a S.W.A.T. team

and the cordoning off of a large perimeter around the block. Crain stopped a rookie

police officer and learned that there was a man with a rifle laying prone on the top

parking level, the rifleman had been spotted by some office workers in a nearby

building. Crain jumped into his cruiser, drove to the top and brought the car to rest on

the rifleman's arm. Jumping out of the car and grabbing the rifle, Crain radioed for

backup to take the guy to jail. The way Crain saw it, case closed. The department

gave him days off for renegade behavior and counseled Crain but he received his

notoriety when the gunman sued Crain and won a $17,000 Judgment for assault after

the Court excused the department from the law suit because Crain's actions were

'outside the scope of his authority'. Crain's straightforward approach was an

inspiration to Sythe and the rookies of the department. Crain could never

comprehend how the Chief couldn't see his position that he had saved the

department $17,000 in manpower and overtime expenses. Sythe said," goodnight Joe, I

bet N.P.LC. is some silly acronym for picking your nose..."

"You'll find out tomorrow."

Chapter 13. Through the Looking Glass.

Crain motioned Sythe to enter the customized van and shut the door. After drawing

all of the van's curtains, Crain removed large sheets of multi-colored papers from

a folio. As he spread them out, across the van's dinette, Sythe could see the same

psychedelic maps of South America. Reds, blues, greens, oranges, the maps looked like

works of modern, or neo-modern, art.

"These look like some of the photographs we used in my photogrammetry class I

took back in college. Except, the colors don't indicate deciduous versus coniferous or

corn versus soy fields and the scale is different. These photographs couldn't have been

made from an airplane. But I can certainly make out Brazil, Tierra del Fuego, the

Straights of Magellan, Cuba...", Sythe spoke in awe of what he was seeing. "Where did

you get these, Joe ?"

"N.P.I.C. and it has nothing to do with pickin' your nose, Charlie."

"What's N.P.I.C. ?"

"The National Photo Interpretation Center, currently located at the Navy yard and

soon to move to Chantilly. Except they should remove the word "photo" because they

don't do much photo work anymore. Everything you've looked at is imagery, not

photographs. In the years since you attended college they've enhanced their ability to

use satellites. In addition,..."

"Who is 'they', Joe ?"

"They, is the C.L.A. The term is imagery. The vehicle is the satellite and what

you're looking at there is crop specific, electromagnetic imagery which has been

sensed, digitized, transmitted to earth, re-digitized into a hard copy image and

slipped to me today from a buddy who has been doing this stuff since Vietnam."

"But what has the C.L.A. got to do with crops in South America, even if they are

coffee and coca? I could understand that the D.E.A. would get this kind of imagery, but

why the C.I.A. ?"

"The C.I.A is the gatekeeper. The D.E.A., F.B.L. and all military agencies only

get the imagery that the C.I.A. wants them to get. They control the satellites which

means they control the imagery. Do you know about the electromagnetic spectrum,

Charlie ?"

"Yea, like we were discussing earlier, I knew that corn crops gave off different

wavelengths than tobacco or soy and that different films could record which crop by

the color it produced on the developed film, but I didn't know it was this

sophisticated."

"Charlie, when we worked narcotics and we used to get those monthly bulletins

from the D.E.A. and they would report on the price and availability of heroin, cocaine

and marijuana as well as production by country, how did you think they were getting

their statistics? Did you think they set up a checkpoint outside of Bangkok, Thailand

and asked the traffickers to pull over to the scales? The C.I.A. and D.E.A. can measure

production volume from satellite imagery. "

"I just didn't know their capability. Are we in trouble or is your buddy at risk for

giving you this imagery ?

"No. He still thinks that I'm a Detective and I asked for last year's growing

season imagery. Told him I had to give a presentation at the Academy. Even though it's

not fresh imagery, compare the range of growth of coca - it's the deep blue color - to

this sheet of imagery taken five years carlier. Look at the reduction of coffee crops -

they're the dark green color - within the same time frame that have been replaced by

coca. Juan Valdez has been busy but I don't think he and his donkey were pickin' &

plantin' coffee, that smile on his face is too broad. So Charlie, the question is - now

that we know the range of growth of this crop that needs eradication, what can we do

about it ? What did you learn today ?"

"I learned and, with the help of these images, confirmed that we only have two

means of successfully eradicating such an enormous crop and species of plant. There

are a number of things we cannot do."

“Like what ?"

"Like sponsor a program where the peasants are encouraged to sell the uprooted

plant; sort of like an alternative crop program in reverse, like instead of paying a

peasant $1.00 per bag for the leaves (a time consuming endeavor), we offer $10.00 for

the uprooted tree. You and I would recognize the program as a bounty, the peasants

would see our offer as better than the Cartel's. They would, however, soon see that

they were "killing the Golden Goose'. " Or chemical spraying, cloud seeding, these

efforts would fail. They are highly detectable, precipitate international incidents and

could be halted before they fully accomplished their purpose. Besides, we don't have

the resources to attempt the effort. I will feel more comfortable explaining our two

options after I speak with Dr. Chaing Kho at the Zoo. He's my former professor who

works in the Tropical Rain forest Exhibit."

"Joe, I like hearing that you are creating misdirections when you go outside our

circle. When I talk to Dr. Kho tomorrow, I will be asking him about his thoughts on

exterminating plants in Nepal. I have deliberately sought a high altitude indigenous

plant that he is both familiar with and which is half a world away from South

America. By the way, that imagery you got your hands on is excellent. Satellites are

like looking glasses, too bad we can't just take an eraser to the image and ...pfoof

!...coca is gone. See you tomorrow," Sythe crushed his beer can and tossed it into the

van's trash can. He walked quietly from the van, entered his car and drove off:

Chapter 14. The Gemini Plan.

"Joe, let me in the van and pop us both a beer, I had a great day today. Dr. Kho knows

what to do and he's got us pointed in the right direction, I don't know where to

start. I spent the whole day with him. He's the best."

"Slow down, Charlie, drink your beer. You have my undivided attention."

*The Nepalese and the Tibetans have experienced similar botanical problems in the

1970*s. Some American mountain climbers and hippies introduced some high

mountain or alpine vegetation to the slopes of the Himalayas. It seems they

unknowingly transported seeds rolled inside their tents and hiking gear to the soil in

Nepal and Tibet and the plants thrived there. The growth was prolific and the North

American plants competed with the native growth and the Monks and Buddhist

activists demanded the eradication of the new growth. They sought the assistance of

Botanists around the globe. Dr. Kho from Taiwan, Dr. Elgin from London and a raft of

Botanists from the U.S. came up with the plan they called the Gemini plan and they

reversed the growth and spread of the unwelcome visitor plant and finally eradicated

the plant. It took four years. But the beauty of the plan, and I know that you'll like

this, is that once the plan was set in action, no one on earth could do a thing to stop

it," Sythe was animated.

"That sounds like a theory of God and God's creation of Earth I heard in a

philosophy class years ago. The professor suggested that one theory of creation was

that God had wound-up the Earth, like an alarm clock, set it spinning on its axis, and

turned his back to it to spin on its own. It sounds like a plan that worked for Asia,

how will it work for a different plant on the other side of the equator ?" ", Crain asked.

"Well, you need to hear the genius of the two plans. First of all they are inexpensive

and final, case closed. Once set in motion, they cannot be reversed. One half

of the Gemini Plan that they implemented was to locate a butterfly or moth that

metamorphosizes. Imperative to this strategy is that the caterpillar dine on the leaf of

the plant upon which the caterpillar eggs are deposited or affixed. So they had to

experiment and determine the leaf's enemy in the United States and/or elsewhere.

Once they did, and those little suckers ate up those leaves at a prolific rate, they had

no difficulty bringing the larva into Nepal and Tibet. Due to the urgency of their

situation, no long range studies were conducted and no cross species studies were

conducted."

"What's a 'cross-species' study ?, Charlie, " asked Crain.

*Well, butterflies don't observe political boundaries. In the busy reproductive life

span of the adult butterfly, they could be flying to countries other than Tibet and

Nepal, their subsequent hatch of caterpillars may not be so specific towards what they

eat. In other words, the positive response by well meaning scientists in Nepal and

Tibet could have been disastrous for neighboring countries. They did not take the

time to conduct studies; they implemented their hasty response and, fortunately, it

worked.*

"What about the second half of the Gemini Plan ?", Crain inquired

"That is a little more complex. I'll try to explain it to you. Did you ever see the

movie where Clark Gable is trying to find the cause of a parasitic disease in China?

The movie was very dramatic. By the end of the movie, he finally figured out the

disease. The cause of the disease was a parasite that lived and reproduced in the

intestinal tract of a small snail that was a source of food for the people that lived in

the valley of this Chinese river. The major problem in identifying and attacking the

disease was to first identify the source of the disease. Once that was accomplished,

the scientists could attack the host -the snail- of the parasite. That parasite was a

'hitch hiker'. It didn't harm the snail. It just used the intestinal tract of the snail as a

breeding and incubation grounds and from the snail it entered the victim host of the

Chinese. So this biological awareness of 'hitch-hiking' parasites that are beneficial to

the objective of the biologist or botanist has been recognized and used effectively

over the years. Let me try to give you another example of scientists, botanists and

biologists teaming-up to defeat a pest. Back in 1980, California had the Medfly

Problem Alarmists warned that all of California's crops could be wiped out if the

Medfly's presence in California was not eradicated. There's a lot of mathematics to

science. The scientists knew how to calculate the exponential growth of a

population of Medflys from a single pair of mature adults. It doesn't take long to

exceed a million. Did you ever hear the childhood game where a child asks a parent to

give a penny then double the amount each day for a month ? The number exceeds one

million dollars in less than a month. The biologists, aware of the biology of the

Medfly, opted for a plan to saturate the environment with irradiated and sterilized

Medflies whose breeding activities would be wasted. The consequence of their action

was a reduction in Medflies that was as rapid and complete as the pace of their growth.

Dr. Kho and his associates found a microscopic parasite that dwelled in the saliva of

the caterpillar that ate the leaves of the plant. Once the caterpillar began to chew a

leaf, the parasite was released and infected the vascular system of the plant's trunk

and branches. Their success was a double whammy. Within two years, the American

plant had been eradicated from Nepal and Tibet. It will take dozens of years before we

learn whether their solutions created other problems. But, for now, it worked and it

worked well So, “Joe of la Mancha”, that was the Gemini Plan. It solved a problem, for

once and for all.*

"Charlie, does that mean that we have to go out with butterfly nets and take live

butterflies to South America so they can lay their eggs ?" *, Crain chided.

"I'll tell you tomorrow what we'll need to do. It should be clear now that we're

on the right path. The way insects multiply, we will only need a few. Mother nature

will take care of the rest. When we enter South America - if we do - it will be like the

Trojans who infiltrated the protective walls of Troy and our efforts will have to be as

stealthy as those of the Byzantine Monks who stole the secret of the silk worm from

the Chinese. In both cases, when the people of the world who enjoy and deal in coca

and its derivatives learn about the demise of coca, it will be too late to do anything

about it."

Chapter 15. The Men Must Go to the Mountain.

"Well Charlie, if one of us needs to go to South America to get a bunch of coca

leaves and bring them back here so we can have a food tasting party for a bunch of

different caterpillars, I'll be happy to go. You can stay here assembling the various

species or groups of caterpillars while I go on a food run. I can use the frequent flyer

mileage. "

"Joe, we can't bring any vegetable matter into our country, the Department of

Agriculture inspects for vegetation at International Airports and you and I need to

discuss travel arrangements.*

"Let's discuss travel plans then, what's the problem 7", Crain asked.

"Well, we've done a good job keeping our circle small Professor Kho believes my

interest is in another hemisphere. Your C.I.A friend thinks you're speaking to Classes

at the Academy. If we start flying to South America - directly to coca producing

Countries - our travel records will become investigative leads down the road. We

either have to travel in stages or travel under the identities of other people. You know

how the squad room has a box with old driver's licenses that officers forgot to return

to people they ticketed ? Maybe we could create identities from some of them. Joe,

it's clear that we will have to smuggle 50 or 100 different pupa of butterflies and

moths into a coca producing country. We're not going to get coca leaves into the U.S.

Therefore, we have to go to the mountains of South America, we cannot bring the

leaves here. I still have more work to do, can you work on a travel strategy that

provides a cover and leaves no trail that leads to us? I'll see you in the morning. I'm

not looking forward to getting back into uniform," Sythe concluded.

Chapter 16. All The Colors of the Rainbow.

Sythe met with Professor Kho at the insect section of the National Zoo. Their first

inquiry related to a generic discussion of pollination by Continent. Cautious not to

reveal his Continent of interest, Sythe endured the explanation of the metamorphosis

of Australian butterflies and bees. He was pleased to learn that the Zoo and

Smithsonian maintained climate controlled captive breeding populations of the

dominant species of butterflies and pollinators from around the world. Kho had

access to all exhibits and species.

On another day, Sythe and Dr. Kho examined trays of preserved, adult, butterflies

and moths. Large glass-covered displays with more than one hundred mountings were

hung from the walls. Large drawers of preserved butterflies and moths opened to

reveal pinned specimens, wings fully spread, flight interrupted by death and

preservation. Sythe was awed by the beauty of the magnificent colors and pigments

which struck his eyes. As he scanned the array, Sythe's eyes fixed upon the Monarch.

Sythe recalled its breeding cycle and migratory range. Annually, in October, millions

of mature Monarchs head south along the Atlantic Coast. Flying 500 to 1500 miles

over open water, sailors have reported massive "flocks" of butterflies at sea and lone

butterflies have alit on many boat rails and fishing rods of solitary fishermen. Each

flight, Sythe knew, was motivated by one biological imperative; species preservation -

propagation. In a timeless cycle, the Monarchs would reach landfall to lay their eggs

on plants whose leaves would feed the caterpillar.

It occurred to Sythe that the seasons of South America were the reverse of the

seasons of North America. He remembered a line from his high school Spanish class,

"pero en enero, estamos en plano verano." (but in January, we are in the Summer

season). That suggested, he believed, that similar cycles of seasonal species migrations

would also occur below the equator. And, because South America was below the

equator, the migrations would head north since - for creatures living below the

equator - that would be where the warmth would be found during the winter months.

Testing this theory on Dr. Kho, he found that it was sound. Dr. Kho said, "You

know many North American biologists get caught in the trap of believing that life

cycles around the globe follow the same seasons as the United States. Seasons and

life cycles are dictated by many things. Proximity to the equator, altitude and

Northern or Southern Hemisphere all combine to influence when species migrate,

breed, lay, hatch and even die. Here, at the Zoo and Smithsonian, we are acutely aware

of the needs and differences of the butterflies, even to the amount of "daylight" the

species would receive for its part of the world, and for the season which the species is

supposed to be experiencing. We create artificial climates and seasons, tailor-made

for the butterflies of the world. Hence, we have their pupa at al times that is

appropriate for them, not for us."

Racing, in his mind, to consider a Northern Hemisphere country with similar

altitudes and distance from the equator that mimics the coca region of South America,

Sythe asked Dr. Kho about the Species of the mountain regions of Japan. "Dr. Kho, can

we look at some species indigenous to the high altitudes of Japan. I'm curious to learn

where their migratory routes would lead if they fly south. It would seem that they

would only fly to open water or, if they were lucky, Hawaii. Where do they go to lay

their eggs ? “, Sythe asked.

*We have determined two distinct migratory routes which Japanese butterflies fly.

One follows a westward then southern path which touches the islands in the

Philippines and New Guinea. The other crosses the North Pacific and follows the

Eastem shore of the Pacific, as far south as Mexico. A similar phenomenon is

mirrored from below the equator by butterflies native to Tasmania and New Zealand

and not enough is known about these insects. They have unusual eating habits, live at

high altitudes, breed prolifically and head north, towards the equator, when they

migrate to breed. Professor Mason, a New Zealander, who teaches at Johns Hopkins

has an active captive breeding population in that room over there. We joke about the

caterpillars the Tasmanian butterflies produce. You know how the scientists in the

Anthropology section go about cleaning animal bones of flesh and sinew, they put the

carcass or decaying bones in a box, full of maggots. Within about twelve hours, the

bones are clean. These Tasmanian butterfly caterpillars have cleaned every branch of

every leaf since his experiment began. They devour Maple leaves, Oak, Willow and

Poplar leaves. Their appetites are voracious and their growth phenomenal. Dr.

Mason's graduate assistants have presented some unusual leafs, Native to New

England and Canada and they consume them quickly. Aspen, Birch, Beech, and Ash;

they eat them all like garbage disposals. Currently, the experiments are focusing on

the digestive enzymes found in these caterpillars. So far, they know that they are

highly acetic. As they are fed leafs which are highly alkaline, the acid in their digestive

tract neutralizes the alkalinity of the leafs and their waste is very moist and salty.

They have taken the experiment to extremes by feeding the caterpillars tobacco leafs,

coffee leafs and green, shiny Rhododendron leafs. Previously, no species of

caterpillar or butterfly would ever lay eggs or consume the waxy, green leafs of high

alkaline trees or shrubs. These butterflies break all the rules and Dr. Mason is the

leading expert on the insect populations of Tasmania and New Zealand. He proudly

boasts that he only knows or has familiarity with 2% of the species. Too little effort

has gone into the indexing of species in those two island countries," Kho explained.

"What are they called; what name have they been given ?, " asked Sythe.

"Dr. Mason named them tazmanonious migratorious. The men who work in the

lab have dubbed them the real Tasmanian Devils.", Dr. Kho explained. "I'd hate to

think what would happen if they got loose in the United States, talk about denuding a

forest."

Sythe was silent. His stare was fixed upon one three inch Tasmanian Devil

caterpillar which moved along a branch. As its rear legs held fast to the branch, the

forward legs guided the jaws to available leafs. The leafs were consumed with speed

and precision. So quick was the consumption, that the segments of the caterpillar

swelled with each leaf consumed. Left behind on the naked branch were the moist

salts of caterpillar excrement. Could this creature be, thought Sythe, the "Dutch Elm

Disease" equivalent for the world's соса стор ?

"Dr. Kho, where are the egg cases which the mature adults lay ? I don't see any.",

Sythe asked.

"That's the other amazing thing about Mason's Devil, it conceals the eggs inside

the plant, not upon the surface. It eliminates or reduces predation and ensures success

in continuing the species. Look at this." Kho removed a limb of a rubber tree and

turned it over. "Do you see the small bulge below the outer layer of this branch, right

where the leafs, coffee leafs and green, shiny Rhododendron leafs. Previously, no species of

caterpillar or butterfly would ever lay eggs or consume the waxy, green leafs of high

alkaline trees or shrubs. These butterflies break all the rules and Dr. Mason is the leading

expert on the insect populations of Tasmania and New Zealand. He proudly boasts that he

only knows or has familiarity with 2% of the species. Too little effort has gone into the

indexing of species in those two island countries," Kho explained.

"What are they called; what name have they been given ?, " asked Sythe.

"Dr. Mason named them tazmanonious migratorious. The men who work in the

lab have dubbed them the real Tasmanian Devils.", Dr. Kho explained. "T'd hate to

think what would happen if they got loose in the United States, talk about denuding a

forest."

Sythe was silent. His stare was fixed upon one three inch Tasmanian Devil

caterpillar which moved along a branch. As its rear legs held fast to the branch, the

forward legs guided the jaws to available leafs. The leafs were consumed with speed

and precision. So quick was the consumption, that the segments of the caterpillar

swelled with each leaf consumed. Left behind on the naked branch were the moist

salts of caterpillar excrement.

Could this creature be, thought Sythe, the "Dutch Elm Disease" equivalent for the

world's соса стор ?

"Dr. Kho, where are the egg cases which the mature adults lay ? I don't see any.",

Sythe asked.

"That's the other amazing thing about Mason's Devil, it conceals the eggs inside

the plant, not upon the surface. It eliminates or reduces predation and ensures success

in continuing the species. Look at this." Kho removed a limb of a rubber tree and

turned it over. "Do you see the small bulge below the outer layer of this branch, right

where the limb meets the branch? That bulge contains an egg sac. The sac contains

10,000 eggs which will erupt as pupa and fall to the soil below the plant. There, they

will enlarge and develop. When the caterpillar emerges, it becomes an eating

machine. Length and body weight sees 1,000 % increases. Vast areas of uninhabited

tracts in Northern Australia have been stripped, denuded. Dr. Mason finally traced

the life cycle of this amazing species and made the migratory link between a butterfly

from Tasmania and a problem in Northern Australia. Despite the excellent satellite

imagery which clearly demonstrates the spread of this caterpillar throughout

Australia, the government and scientists were slow to make the discovery because the

region has little population. There was some kind of flap at the embassy and I believe

that their Charge' did lodge a protest. Seems, our satellite people “sat” on the

information for more than ten years without sharing the information with

the Australians. By the time the Australians discovered the pest, botanists estimate,

twenty-five billion tons of Australian vegetation had been consumed. They're still

counting the tree and plant species which are nearing extinction down there."

*Dr. Kho, does this insect - at any stage of its life cycle - have a natural predator ?,

"Sythe inquired.

"The Australian scientists have discovered a lizard which eats the adult as well as

the caterpillar and one species of Australian bat consumes vast quantities of the

adults, in flight, during migration. Those two creatures, offer the only hope for

Australia. At the lab here, we were hoping to find a toxic leaf for the caterpillars but

we've had no such luck."

"What is the duration of their cycle ?, Dr. Kho," Sythe inquired.

"The pupa is dormant for three months, caterpillar hatches and consumes food for

three months, chrysalis emerges three months after the caterpillar spins and adult

butterfly emerges, matures, migrates and lays and the cycle repeats in the final three

months. We have each stage at all times for the purpose of our experimentation."

"Dr. Kho, this tour has been so interesting that I didn't note how late it's gotten. 1

have to get to a meeting with my partner. Can we continue the tour tomorrow ?",

Sythe asked.

"Sure, Charlie. Are you thinking about graduate study ? Johns Hopkins has a

great program which is run in conjunction with the zoo and Smithsonian. *

"I may have to postpone graduate study for a little longer. Working as a police

officer has made me become committed to enforcement of the laws. Maybe someday, I

could work for the Department of Agriculture and become a "plant cop." I don't know,

I'm on a project now which has to be completed. I'll see you tomorrow. "

Chapter 17. The Cover of Clouseau.

"Remember the Pink Panther Movies when Peter Sellers would order disguises

from some mail order house ? He once wore the costume of the Hunchback of Notre

Dame. Well, I've taken care of both of our problems. We will be entering the hills and

mountains of South America as fresh water sport fishermen. We will hire guides and

be able to inquire about insect hatches because that's what trout fishermen do. The

guides will be able to lead us into the woods and hills in search of the perfect trout

stream. No one will suspect us, Charlie, no one," Crain said

*I don't think so, Joe. From what I've heard from every D.E.A agent I've ever

talked to, the people of South America think all Americans are D.E.A. It doesn't

matter what kind of costume they wear. In 1989, a reporter from the Tampa Tribune,

Todd C. Smith, tried to do a story on Cocaine by traveling to Uchiza, Peru. He was

captured and accused of being an American spy, tortured and executed. If you're

Anglo, they presume you're D.E.A. The druggies even killed our D.E.A. agent in

Mexico - and he was Latino.”

"I know that. But we're going to go down there as trout purists. We'll load up

with L.L.Bean gear, we'll eat, talk and sleep trout. We won't go to bars, we will never

talk about drugs and, in our free time, we will buy feathers and tie our own flys. We'll

be nimrods. We won't even look at women," Crain said as he explained his plan.

"All right, Joe. Trout fishing and trout fishing costumes will be our cover. But

what about our identity? Are we going to be Crain and Sythe, the fishermen from

Virginia, U.S.A. ? ", Sythe asked.

“No, I've got that figured out too. I lifted two Virginia Drivers Licenses from

those two guys McGuigan arrested for P.C.P. Distribution. They got sentenced but

have filed an appeal and don't have criminal histories yet. They were denied bail so, I

figure they don't need their driver’s licenses. They pulled twenty year sentences.

Because of your height and weight, you have to be Kenan Wilcox. My dinbag identity

is Albert Guzman. I already went to Maryland and got a copy of your, Wilcox's, birth

certificate and I'm going to get a copy of mine, Guzman's, in Virginia tomorrow. Once

we have the birth certificates and drivers licenses, I figure we'll go fishing in Canada.

From there, we'll fly to the Caribbean, then to Mexico. From there, we'll have to drive

south on the PanAmerican Highway. Our trek will be like those guys in that movie

Endless Summer that surfed their way around the globe. So I've worked out those two

problems. But I have a question for you," Crain paused.

"O. K. Shoot ?", Sythe answered.

"If we're successful, and you find some kind of pest or eggs to take to South

America, how much room are you going to need ? Suitcases ? Trunks? How much

space will we nced ? How much weight ? Are these concerns going to present a

problem, Charlie?“

"I don't think so. I had an excellent time today and learned a year's worth of

knowledge in a day. The egg cases and pupa are so small for most species of insects,

that we may be able to conceal them in fishing rods or reels, maybe even something

smaller. I learned some valuable things today and there are voracious insects that we

can experiment with, but we're not going to know for sure until we get in country,

pick some coca leaves and see if they are appetizing to any of our dinner guests. How

much will it cost for this Canada to Caribbean to Mexico to South America trip ?, Joe.”

“I called a travel agency in D.C. that specializes in hunting and fishing tours. The

airfares will be about $3,000 each, lodging will be about another $1,000 each and gear

will be about $1,000 each, guides will be about $500 each and food and tips will be

another $500 each. Can your credit union account handle it Charlie ?"

“Yes it can, but it will create a record?", Sythe asked.

"I know, Charlie, but we'll be telling the Department and our families that we're

going to Canada to fish and clear our heads before going back on patrol. We'll have to

return through Canada too. What did you learn today that is such great news ? ", Crain

inquired.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Go ahead and proceed with the plan for our false

identities. I'll see you tomorrow night, Joe. By the way... can you bring me some tackle

boxes similar to the ones we'll take to go fishing? Also, some large lures, like jitterbugs

and hula poppers, plugs and bobbers."

As Crain drove home, he thought about Sythe's request. "Must be taking this

fishing pretext pretty seriously, probably doesn't want to be assassinated like that

young reporter from Tampa," Crain thought.

Chapter 18. Fishing Lures; Early Trojan Horses.

As Crain gathered his favorite, and oldest, lures, he remembered how each one had

been used to deceive a particular fish. The paint-chipped hula-popper had so

frustrated a three pound largemouth bass one summer evening, at dusk, that it rose to

the surface and slapped the lure hard with a tail swipe that sent the lure flying eight

feet before it appeared to rest, stunned, on the water's surface. Crain knew that he

could not move the floating plug. He waited. In a flash of light, reflected in the spray

of water, the bass surfaced to inhale the plug. Fifteen minutes later, Crain released the

bass after measurement and weight checks were conducted and logged. Like the

Trojan horse, Crain had tricked the bass into taking a dangerous object through the

gates of its mouth and, in that moment of slackened guard, lose a battle to a worthy

foe.

Crain sorted through the red and white plastic floats or bobbers and included a few

wooden bobbers in the sampling he prepared for Sythe. The torpedo-shaped Jitterbug,

painted to resemble a live frog, was included by Crain along with a larger mouse and

duckling lure. In Northern States and Canada, Crain knew that large Muskellunge and

Pike would hit and devour live mice and ducklings who risked swimming across open

waters. To address those aspects of fishing, lure manufacturers made mouse and

duckling lures which many fishermen carried in their tackle boxes. Finally, Crain

included jars of pickled pork rind and salmon eggs for Sythe's inspection.

As Sythe entered the van, parked below the leafs of the familiar Elm tree on Elm

Avenue, Crain said," You're showing a serious interest in this fishing gear, Charlie.

Here's the tackle box we'll be taking on the trip."

*I like these plugs and bobbers. This mouse and the duckling amaze me. Would a

South American fisherman take those lures as bait for trout ?", Sythe asked.

"No, they're not trout lures. But we would use salmon eggs and pork rind and the

plugs are in everyone's tackle box,, "Crain answered.

Sythe produced a small hobby kit and removed a high speed rechargeable Dremel

tool. He inserted a large cutting disk and quickly severed the lure into two halves.

"What are you doing to my lures ?, ' Crain shouted. 'I bought that lure fifteen

years ago and I've caught dozens of bass on it. You destroyed it, Charlie !"

Sythe said nothing, he removed the disk and replaced it with a rasp. Quickly, he

hollowed each half. In a deft move, Sythe applied super glue to the halves and glued

the lure back, together.

"Why did you do that ?, ' asked Crain, ' to lighten the lure ?"

"No, Joe. I did it to create a compartment that will conceal the pest that marks the

end of the world's coca crop. Hopefully, these modified lures will clear customs and we

can sneak them into South America without getting ourselves thrown in jail," Sythe

responded.

"O.K., I sec... we'll be able to take about twenty insects to South America. Unless

we ship crates of Jitterbugs, Charlie," Crains ignorance was apparent.

"Joe, the eggs and pupa of some of these insects are so small that tens of thousand

can be concealed in these hollowed-out lures. And that is what I hinted at last night. I

learned yesterday that one fierce insect, known as the Tasmanian Devil but really a

caterpillar, is available, prolific and like a garbage disposal when it comes to eating

leaves, any leaf. We will definitely be taking some egg pods of that butterfly and I

learned today about a Dragon Fly larva that could help us. Al we can do is visit South

America, test some generations of several insects with coca leaves and observe the

results. If all experiments are negative, we return as foolish fishermen who wasted a

lot of time and money."

"Charlie, if all goes well, we will still return as foolish fishermen who wasted a lot

of time and money. How do you plan to get these pupa and eggs and egg cases out of

the Zoo and the Smithsonian without jeopardizing your relationship with Dr. Kho,

revealing our mission or getting yourself busted ? "

"Tve got a plan for that. I will develop the plan this week. You can proceed to

book our trip. I'll visit the Lieutenant and ask for leave and give him the Canada story,

I'll also call the credit union and get the funds. See you tomorrow."

Chapter 19. A Byzantine Intrigue.

By the end of the second week of research, Sythe had concluded that five species

of butterfly, three moth species and two dragonfly species would be transported to

Quito, Ecuador, South America. One butterfly larva and pupa would be the

"Tasmanian Devil"; Sythe believed that to be the best bet. The primary moth species

would be the Gypsy Moth whose nests and subsequent caterpillars would plague

North American communities preying primarily on Mulberry and Wild Cherry Trees

with their characteristic white "Tents" spun each year by the caterpillars of the moth.

Crain suggested the Dragonfly whose larva was the fishing bait known as the

"Hellgrammite". This creature, found submerged under rocks in the Upper

Shenandoah River and Upper Potomac River, was approximately three inches long

and armed - at the larval stage - with fierce pinchers capable of making grown men

yelp. Crain had suggested the Dragonfly larva for another cover story. Believing that

the potential existed for South American authorities to discover the insects during

routine border searches, Crain suggested that the two fishermen be prepared to

articulate innocence at bringing insects into a foreign country and plead that they

intended to use the insects for fish bait. Sythe liked the scenario and both agreed to

hold fast to that "fish" tale if their contraband was found.

Coordinating their timing, Crain waited until Sythe was again visiting Dr. Kho

amidst the insects sought by Sythe. A moment after Sythe's vibrating pager hummed

its alert, a laboratory assistant advised Dr. Kho that he was wanted on the telephone

by a physician in Texas who was dealing with a bee sting case of suspected killer bees.

The Chapter 19. A Byzantine Intrigue.

By the end of the second week of research, Sythe had concluded that five species

of butterfly, three moth species and two dragonfly species would be transported to Quito,

Ecuador, South America. One butterfly larva and pupa would be the "Tasmanian Devil";

Sythe believed that to be the best bet. The primary moth species would be the Gypsy

Moth whose nests and subsequent caterpillars would plague North American communities

preying primarily on Mulberry and Wild Cherry Trees with their characteristic white

"Cents" spun each year by the caterpillars of the moth. Crain suggested the Dragonfly

whose larva was the fishing bait known as the "Hellgrammite". This creature, found

submerged under rocks in the Upper Shennandoah River and Upper Potomac River,

was approximately three inches long and armed - at the larval stage - with fierce

pinchers capable of making grown men yelp. Crain had suggested the Dragonfly larva

for another cover story. Believing that the potential existed for South American

authorities to discover the insects during routine border searches, Crain suggested

that the two fishermen be prepared to articulate innocence at bringing insects into a

foreign country and plead that they intended to use the insects for fish bait. Sythe

liked the scenario and both agreed to hold fast to that "fish" tale if their contraband

were found. Coordinating their timing, Crain waited until Sythe was again visiting

Dr. Kho amidst the insects sought by Sythe. A moment after Sythe's vibrating pager

hummed its alert, a laboratory assistant advised Dr. Kho that he was wanted on the

telephone by a physician in Texas who was dealing with a bee sting case of suspected

killer bees. The distraction provided Sythe with sufficient time to secrete larva and

pupa of all the species needed for his experiment and Dr. Kho suspected nothing

when he returned.

Concealed upon his person, Sythe left the Smithsonian Insect Laboratory with the

hope of all the law abiding peoples of the world. Like the Byzantine Monk who stole

the key to China's “silk secret”, Sythe was stealing a secret that he hoped would be

the key to the world's Cocaine related problems. Betrayal of Dr. Kho's trust was a

small price to pay for such a noble goal. Dr. Kho knew that Sythe was going fishing.

As they said good-byes, Sythe knew that his conversations with his former professor

had never touched the topic of South America.

Sythe and Crain boarded the flight for Canada successfully clearing U.S. and

Canadian Customs. As the Canadian Customs agent wished the men good luck in

their fishing expedition, Sythe made a mental note to present Dr. Kho a gift in the

form of a large, fresh, Salmon when Sythe returned. If the plot proved successful, it

would be a very long time before Sythe would reveal his complicity to anyone.

Chapter 20. Moving Right Along.

Crain and Sythe made their fishing trip to Canada official. They purchased non-

resident licenses, hired a guide for one day and caught some trout in the Gulf of St.

Lawrence. Capturing their catches for later proof on film, they donated the fish to the

guide and tipped him generously. Sythe made sure to wrap his trout in the daily

newspaper, The Toronto Register, with the date clearly displayed. That done, they

boarded a plane to Jamaica and chartered a Marlin troller out of Montego Bay. For this

visit, no photographs were taken and the Captain was paid in cash. The day was really

spent wasting time until the next day's flight to Mexico City. After clearing Customs at

Mexico City, the men relaxed at an airport bar after retrieving their baggage and

fishing gear.

"Joe, I'm going to check on our tackle boxes," Sythe said as he carried two boxes

to the men's room. Crain watched Sythe as he walked towards the mensroom. His gaze

was caught by the gaze of another man, a Mexican Federal Policeman who walked

over to his partner and whispered something. Crain drew closer to the edge of his

chair and clutched the arm rails. All kinds of thoughts crossed his mind. Sythe bopped

out of the mens room like a man relieved. He swung the tackleboxes in a carefree

manner and Crain saw in the expression of the Mexican Federales that they were no

longer suspicious. They, like Crain, believed that they had just seen a man emerge

from the bathroom after taking a piss.

"Well, the little babies are all sleeping, Joe. I hope they can sleep until Ecuador,"

Sythe remarked.

"Do you see those two cops over there, ' Crain said as he glanced in the direction

of the Nationals, ' one guy eyeballed you into and out of the mensroom."

"I knew he was watching. No problem. I was more concerned with the Mexican

Customs guy who kept spinning the blade on the nose of the yellow jitterbug. I was

hoping it was the first one he ever held so he wouldn't have a point of reference from

which he could deduce that it was lighter than normal. It was really funny when he

snagged his shirt on that treble hook. He felt guilty and pushed us through quickly,"

Sythe commented.

“I'm glad they didn't open the salmon egg jar and snoop around. You packed

those pink eggs so tightly around the inner film canister that the eggs would have

popped out and our canister full of "Tasmanian Devils" would have come to their

attention," Crain said, relieved.

*Yea, We've been lucky. If we can just make it through the next six hours until

our plane leaves for Quito. Want a beer, Joe ?"

"Sure, Dos Equis, hey, don't look now, oh no. There's those two D.E.A. analysts

from D.C., Harter and Hartkin. They saw us. Here they come."

"What are you guys doing in Mexico City, 7" Hartkin said as he sat down at the

table. "Doesn't your jurisdiction end at the Virginia border, huh, huh ?" "Did you

pursue a speeder across Texas and into Mexico ?"

"What are you guys doing outside of D.C.? You've made everyone think you're

so important that the D.E.A couldn't last without you. Did somebody find a marijuana

seed in Mexico and you guys had to come down and write an analysis, ?" Crain asked

sarcastically.

"Joe, just answer these guys. They're mad because McGuigan arrested those two

guys before the D.E.A. did. It wasn't a big bust, just a gallon of phencyclidine," Sythe

said.

"O.K. we're on a fishin' vacation. The department transferred us back to patrol

and we're takin' time off to fish before hittin' the road as patrol officers. What are you

guys doin' here, really,?" Crain asked.

"We can't tell you, classified," Harter said. "What kind of fish do you catch at an

airport in Mexico City ?"

Sythe didn't like the way the conversation was heading. They were already

identified in Mexico by two D.E.A. analysts. His eyes stared at Crain's eyes and Sythe

answered, "We've already been fishing here, we're heading back. When is your flight,

maybe we'll fly together. Are you going to Dulles ?"

Harter answered, "No we've got to go to a conference in Denver. Where's all

your fish? How many did you catch? Where did you go fishing, anyway ?"

"We caught plenty of bass in this large lake over on the Yucatan. We also caught

some tuna and mackerel in the Gulf of California, good guides down here," Crain said

as he caught on to Sythe's lie and sipped his beer. When does your plane leave ?

Maybe we could take you out to a little pond just a couple of miles from here, our treat !"

Hartkin reminded Harter that their plane would be leaving in two hours.

Crain and Sythe bought two rounds and the four traded fish stories. As the two

Senior D.E.A. anslysts boarded their flight, Crain felt relief for having avoided

informing the Analysts of their true destination. Sythe shared the emotion of relief,

but could not feel completely easy as their circle of two had doubled to four. Sythe

hoped that the encounter would never haunt the fishermen. But that would be in the

future and he could do nothing about it now.

"After this beer, Joe, we're going to have to board the plane. We'll have to plan

our options and anticipate future repercussions from this encounter. But for now,

we're moving right along.”

Chapter 21. In Flight to Ecuador.

"If we're successful, Joe, that encounter we had in the lounge may come back to

haunt us. Those two guys haven't liked us because of those three major cases we made

three years ago."

"We wouldn't have busted those drug distributors when we did if they had told us

that they had been developing their case for two years. We got lucky and they got mad,

Charlie."

"What will our story be if we ever have an encounter with them, Joe ?"

*Deny, deny, deny. We're not traveling under our real names. So we deny that it

was us that they saw in Mexico City. We play them off as being crazy, or as making

mistaken identities. If we're successful, it won't be for several years. By then, they will

have forgotten the encounter, " Crain said as he repeated the response made famous

in the Watergate Case.

"When you booked this fishing expedition, did you get the name of our guide? "

Sythe asked. *Yea, his name is Julio Salgato and he's meeting us at customs with a four

wheel drive vehicle. He's providing our lodging as well. The travel agent gave me his

brochure, look at the fish some of the gringos have caught, " Joe said as he handed

the brochure to Sythe.

As Sythe scanned the brochure he said, "Joe, our timing is fortunate. When we

land, and get situated, I will need to provide a multitude of leaves and establish a fairly

constant temperature and environment for the insects. They'll be hatching soon.

Hey..."

Crain didn't answer. He slept and dreampt. In his dream, he was attempting to run

up the side of a muddy hill. Thousands of peasants and the two D.E.A. analysts were in

close pursuit. Crain held a scythe, like that held by the grim reaper, and he could get no

footing on the steep, muddy, slope. His feet slipped in the mud and could find no

rocks or vegetation. His pursuers were gaining on him. He knew as he ran that he

could not repel thousands with a single scythe. So he ran and slipped and his heart

beat more quickly. He was perspiring heavily. Crain heard the clank of shovels and

turned to see the multitudes surround him. He could see anger in their eyes but could

not understand why he was being pursued. A dozen peasants raised their shovels and

started the downswing to strike him. Muerto / Muerto el hombre ! El diablo es muerto !

Crain awoke and found Sythe shaking his sweat-drenched arm. "You were

speaking Spanish, Joe. You must have been dreaming. I didn't know you knew Spanish

?", Sythe commented.

"I don't. What was I saying, Charlie ? "

"Something like muerto and diablo, I think they mean death and devil. Anyway,

we've landed. Welcome to Ecuador."

Chapter 22. Mect the Guide.

Julio Salgato had been a fishing and hunting guide since his teens and he knew the

freshwater lakes and streams, the broad rivers and seacoast of his native Ecuador.

Operating out of Quito, Salgato commanded $500US per week for each man in his

group and he lodged them on his coffee farm, fifteen miles north east of Quito.

"Hola! Mister Guzman ? Habla Espanol ?," Salgato asked

"I'm Guzman, this is Wilcox. How did you know who we were. Are you Julio?,"

asked Sythe.

"Sir, when I see two Americans at customs wearing fishing vests and carrying

fishing rod tubes, I call out the name of my guests. How was your flight ?" Salgado

answered.

"The flight was fine, but who is that guy over there in the uniform ? He hasn't

taken his eyes off of us since we entered Customs and had our baggage searched. He

seemed disappointed when they found fishing rods inside these tubes," Crain said as

he nodded in the direction of the uniformed official.

*He is Captain Lupo of the Federal Police. He is probably thinking that you are

with the D.E.A. and that you are pretending to be fishermen. Here he comes." Salgato

moved to intercept the Captain.

Crain could hear the rapid dialog of Spanish being spoken. In a deft motion, he

saw Salgato reach into his pocket and hand something to the Captain. Smiling, the

Captain walked over to the two Americans, introduced himself and welcomed them to

Ecuador.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Ecuador. Mister Salgato tells me that you are fishermen

from the United States. What do you hope to catch in my country ?," Lupo asked.

"We will fish for whatever Julio says to fish for. We hope to catch some bass and

trout, but must respect your fishing seasons. We also hope to fish the ocean on a

charter boat. Do you fish, Captain ?, Sythe asked.

"No. I hunt. I prefer my quarry on the land and in the sky, not in the water.

Perhaps I'll see you during your stay in my country. You can teach me something about

fishing and I can teach you something about hunting," Lupo said as his eyes scanned

the American's gear.

"What do you hunt, Captain," Crain asked.

"Only the most intelligent and difficult quarry. I do not seek small rabbits and

birds, they are too easy. I like to stalk my quarry and track his movements. Sometimes

the hunt lasts for many days and he covers miles of our mountainous terrain, but I

always catch my quarry. Gentlemen, if you run into any trouble during your stay, do

not hesitate to contact me, here is my card, good day," Captain Lupo walked briskly

to an unmarked door and Sythe watched as it closed behind him.

"Let's get your gear into my Pathfinder, you'll be fishing within two hours,"

Salgado grabbed some gear and carried it to the Pathfinder.

Chapter 23. Where Stimulants Abound.

As Salgato pointed his new Pathfinder four wheel drive vehicle towards the

northeast, Crain could see the snow capped mountains. That, thought Crain, means

native trout. The snow caps melt and their runoff forms cold water streams. The

streams descend to rivers and the rivers flow to the sea. No one knew from whence

trout first came to a mountain stream on any continent. Common thought suggested

that birds were the unwitting transporters of fertilized trout eggs. That theory held

that birds would have fish eggs adhere to their feet as they dined or washed in rivers

which were below waterfalls. Later, they would fly to points above the waterfalls and

the eggs would drop off as they flew or wash off as the birds touched the water. The

thought that high mountain trout, on all continents, could have been stocked by so-

called natives was not accepted by most trout purists. Trout need cold water that is

clear and unpolluted. pH has to be slightly base, not acetic, and they delight in

successions of insect and larval hatches which occur in symbiosis with the trout and

the streams. All of these factors, Crain thought, gave him the respect he had for all

trout. As an added bonus, they were a wary quarry, fought extremely well when

hooked and were a delicacy out of the frying pan.

"What did you hand that Captain back at the airport, Julio,?", Crain asked.

"Mr. Wilcox, our country is a poor country. We do not pay our officials very

much. They can help us but only if we help them. Everyone is trying very hard to make

a living. When Americans come to Ecuador, everyone here believes that they are

either drug dealers or drug agents of your D.E.A. It is Captain Lupo's job to find out

who the visitors are. He needs to learn why they say they are here and he needs to

learn why they are really here. He asked me why you were really here. He said that he

believed that your baggage would contain much American currency because he

thought you were here to make a purchase. He said that he was very surprised to find

that your tubes contained fishing rods - and nothing else. I had to pay him a portion

of what I am earning as your guide. It was a tax. It is the cost of doing business."

"To make a purchase of what," Sythe asked.

"Cocaine,' Salgado answered, 'cocaine."

"We don't do cocaine,' Crain volunteered,' just beer, cervezas, I hope you have

plenty of cervezas."

Julio turned off the paved highway and entered a tree-lined entrance way to a large

estate. Behind the estate, and ascending up a mountainside, the Americans could see

terraced crops of small, green, bushes. As Julio pulled into a barnyard-like area,

chickens scattered and children came running from a hacienda.

"What are al of those bushes?, ' asked Sythe, they're so green and lush."

"Coffee, Mr. Guzman. Coffee, our national crop. Welcome to my hacienda, mi

casa es su casa. Let's get your gear unpacked and I'll show you your quarters."

Salgado led the men to a stairway that climbed to a large apartment which he had

built above the barn. Four bunks, a kitchenette and a full bathroom were available for

the two guests. Julio opened a door to the rear of the apartment and displayed his

tackle room. Sythe and Crain inspected a fisherman's dream. A long bench ran along

one wall and three work stations were available for fly tying. Two reel repair stations

and a rod station were also prepared for the guests. Above the bench, Crain could see

hundreds of jars of feathers. Classified by color, someone had collected and preserved

rooster, hen, duck and goose feathers. Along another shelf, the men saw rows of

threads and jars of dope, the glue fly-tyers use to coat the thread which holds the

feathers to the hook's shank.

Here, Crain thought, was a trout fisherman's heaven. Salgado's equipment room

was stocked so well that it rivaled the best that L.L. Bean's fly fishing school could

offer. As he and Sythe looked around with awe etched upon their faces, they could see

the pride displayed on the face of Julio. With the obvious appreciation of the guests,

Salgado felt more secure in his belief that these men were truly fishermen. He opened-

up to Crain and Sythe. "Want to wet a line? I've got a nice spot nearby," Julio asked.

"Sure, "Crain grabbed an ultra light rod and affixed a spinning reel to its seat.

"Let's go."

Chapter 24. Fishing.

Salgado drove to higher elevations. A path cut through terraces of coffee bushes

and Sythe could see children picking coffee beans; filling burlap bags. At the

thirteenth terrace, Sythe noticed three changes. The leaf color and configuration of

the bushes was different and no coffee beans grew on the branches. Adults walked

along paths between naked bushes, cleaned of their leaves, carrying long bags full and

overflowing with shiny, green leaves. These bags displayed none of the heft or sag

seen earlier in bags carried by the bent bodies of the youthful coffee bean pickers. No

children walked at these levels. A lone sentry stood at an outpost, armed with a

Chinese-made AK-47, his teeth were blackened by an unknown substance. Sythe

noticed the sentry's eyes and behavior which was that of extreme awareness and

attention.

I know coffee prices have gone up, but are the prices so high that the fields have to

be guarded, Sythe thought.

Salgado turned left and drove along a flat trail that neither ascended nor

descended. They drove for two miles and passed thousands of acres of leafless bushes.

Salgado stopped the Pathfinder in a clearing near a footpath. "You will need your chest

waders, the water is cold. I assume you know how wary trout can be. These trout feel

the vibration of your approach from 100 meters. Al casting must be upstream. Your

walking will produce silt and cloud the water downstream. They will not be able to see

your flys. I will watch from the bank and communicate by hand signals. There are

some large 2 pounders in some of the pools. Please be careful."

As Sythe entered the stream, he was struck by the clarity of the water and the

rocky bottom. In the U.S., trout fishermen debated the difference between stone

bottom trout streams and limestone trout streams. He pulled line off his flyreel and

looked above for branches and other obstructions to his casting. Sythe started with a

dry # 10 Coachman, and began working a calm area below a rivulet.

Crain set his fishing rod down and entered the stream below Scythe's point of

entry. He walked to a stone bar in the center of the stream which was barely

submerged, covered with rocks. Crain began a process of turning over stones and

rocks.

Salgado watched both men. He knew that Sythe was doing a good job of working

that section of stream and that Sythe could handle a fly rod. Crain was different. Crain

was performing an act of skill. In the parlance of trout fishing, Crain was checking the

hatch. Good trout fishermen knew what trout knew. Trout knew when insects lay eggs,

when larva emerge below water and when insects take flight. Each stage of their

metamorphosis would dictate when and where the trout would feed. Bottom or top,

winged or larval, the trout knew. By checking under rocks, Crain sought larva. Once he

determined what was in this stream, he could go to his tacklebox and search for an

artificial replica.

All three men knew and understood one universal axiom of trout fishing : you

cannot fool a trout.

Sythe caught three small ten inch yearlings, removed the barb-less hooks and

quickly released his catches. He worked his way upstream Crain located the larva of a

Mayfly similar to the North American Mayfly. He signaled to Sythe and they met along

the bank. Silently, Crain opened Sythe's fly box and selected the closest artificial wet

fly. Wet flys do not float like dry flys do. They are designed to sink and drift below the

surface of the water. Sythe tied the Mayfly larva wet fly onto his leader. Reentering the

stream, Sythe climbed a small rill and played out his line onto the smooth surface of a

large pool. He let the fly sink and drift towards himself. Suddenly, the line went taught

and the tip of his rod bent. A trout had hit the fly and was running upstream, hooked,

fighting. Crain's study of the hatch had paid off Sythe landed a three pound brown

trout and the men agreed to share the fish for supper. Sitting on the bank of the

stream, Sythe began to pluck samplings of the vegetation. Leaves of bushes, blades of

grasses, leaves of flowers and leaves of trees; all were picked under Salgado's watchful

eyes.

"What are you doing Mr. Guzman, are you looking for a garnish for the trout

dinner? I have never seen a trout fisherman picking leaves," Julio stated.

Crain answered for Sythe. "He is a perfectionist. He has brought eggs and larva

of North American insects with him. Once they hatch, they will need to be fed. He's

gathering a variety of your indigenous vegetation so that the North American insects

can sample and taste your South American leafs. He's a botanist and he tries to learn

about the local vegetation. Do you have some tanks and jars we can use ?"

"Certainly, of course. You are my first guests who have checked the hatch and

brought your own insects. I respect your commitment to your sport. I want to learn

from you and I will teach you what I know and show you the best spots that I have

discovered. Come, we must clean the fish and prepare our dinner, " Salgado said.

As Crain showered and Salgado cleaned the fish, Sythe removed all of the eggs

and larva and segregated them into jars and containers. Walking down the stairs, Sythe

walked to the edge of a coffee bush row and plucked two dozen leaves and a handful of

beans. As he returned to the barn, he opened a rear door at the ground level of the

barn and entered a large, dark, humid room. In the dim light that entered the few

windows flanking the walls, Sythe made out the form of thousands of stacked, long,

fluffy bags. Checking one nearby, Sythe grabbed a handful of green leaves that were

dissimilar to the leaves he knew to be from the coffee bushes. He quickly took a

handful of the unknown species leafs and rushed to the apartment. Arranging the

sleeping larva and pupa, Sythe provided each with a sampling of all of the vegetation

from the stream bank, the coffee bush and the bags in the bar. He turned the light off

and showered after Crain. Together, they went to their first dinner in the hacienda.

After dining on trout and South American wine, Crain was given his choice of

beers or cervezas as he referred to them. Drinking beer, the three men walked to the

patio and watched the sunset. "Where will you take us tomorrow, Julio," Sythe asked.

"Trout in glacial lakes, like your glacial lakes in Alaska. They don't go after flys

like today and you will probably have to fish with spinning gear and bright spinners.

The elevations are higher and you'll have to dress warmer. Waders and hip boots will

be unnecessary, so wear hiking boots. We will get up carly, eat and drive for one or

two hours. Goodnight, gentlemen."

Chapter 25. Encounter.

The three men crossed the rocky shoreline of the broad, clear, lake. In the distance,

across the lake, the men could see craggy mountains, capped in snow, in the

foreground of a clear, blue sky. Crain, following Salgado's suggestion, began casting

and retrieving a gold Colorado spinner. The sun began to cross the sky. Sythe looked

under rocks. He, too, was checking the hatch and searching for species of newt and

salamander, worms and insect larva. The spinner blade, on the lure retrieved by

Crain, spun madly as he brought it, quickly, back from a distant cast. Each time the

blade came 'round, it reflected sunlight to points above and below the water line.

Crain's eyes tracked the path of the lure by watching the glint of sunlight reflected by

the blade. Below the surface, another set of eyes confused the reflected light and

chased and bit down upon the metal lure as if it were the soft body of shiny baitfish.

Crain exclaimed, "got one !" Salgado ran a short distance and watched the trout

propel itself into the air, shaking, seeking to break free from the hook and line that

connected it to Crain's hands. Crain would not let go and the hook held fast. Salgado

netted the trout and Crain weighed the hanging fish; four and one half pounds.

Sythe walked back across the rocks to the brush which separated the lake's shore

from the tree line. He inspected the leaves and branches for egg sacs and signs of

different insects. Sythe heard Crain's noise and looked to see his catch. *We certainly

got hooked up with a guide who knows his stuff," Sythe thought. Sythe's eyes caught

a glint of reflected sunlight. Across the lake, from the concealment of the same barrier

of scrub bushes, Sythe could see the reflection of binoculars.

Sythe walked deeper into the brush and began quietly to circle the lake. He

maneuvered himself closer to the position of the binoculars. Sythe could see Salgado

and Crain from across the lake. Rings rippled in the water as Crain's lure hit the

surface, Sythe could see the rings expand. Along a path which carved through the

brush, Sythe saw indicators of a visitor. Bent branches, cracked by movement, pieces

of lint moving in the wind, rocks rolled over, wet side up, exposed; al spoke to Sythe

like hieroglyphs speak to Incan scholars. The direction of the visitor was towards the

lake, no return was indicated by the sign. Sythe's tracking skills endured the load of

greater stress; he knew that he was close to the person with the binoculars. As he

stepped on rocks, avoiding twigs and brush, moving quietly, Sythe approached the

back, unguarded side of a man. As Sythe's foot snapped a small twig, the man spun

and dropped the glasses from his hands. "Captain Lupo," Sythe spoke,' bird-watching

or working ?"

Lupo's face had the look of embarrassment but quickly assumed the look of

authority, "I go where I want and I do what I want. Ecuador has many enemies and

many criminals. Even you and your friend are not safe when you visit my country.

Many American visitors are mistaken for being D.E.A. Agents. D.E.A. Agents are a

threat to all of the criminals and to all of the peasants and farmers of my country.

They, and many Americans who were absolutely innocent of being law enforcement

agents, have been killed in South America. I want your visit here to be a safe one;

catch many fish. I have been watching in order to protect you. Why weren't you

fishing? Why were you walking in the bushes, examining branches and leaves ?"

"Come here,' Sythe motioned to Lupo as he neared a small bush which had dozens

of hard, brown, appendages affixed to its branches,' do you see these brown egg pods ?

The pods hold the eggs of the Preying Mantis. When the young hatch, they grow and

eat other insects."

"What has that got to do with fishing," Lupo asked.

"Captain Lupo, do you fish or know anything about trout? Trout are very smart.

They know about seasons. They know when a certain nymph has hatched; when it is

abundant and when its hatch is over. If a trout fisherman is not aware of the same

seasons and the hatches of insects, he will be using the wrong fly or bait at the wrong

time. The trout will know that something is wrong and the fisherman will catch

nothing. Good trout fishermen must know about the insect world and that means

looking under rocks, under leaves and on the branches of trees and bushes. Do you

mind walking over to the others ?

I have something I want to show you, " Sythe stated.

As they neared Crain and Salgado, Sythe yelled, "Look who I bumped into."

Crain turned to see Captain Lupo with Sythe.

"Where have you been ? I caught three keepers, look at 'em," Crain hefted the

trout out of the water and above his head.

"We were talking trout," Sythe said as he knelt to overtum some submerged rocks

at the water's edge. "Captain Lupo, look at this." Lupo walked over to see the

wriggling larva of an Ecuadorian dragonfly, set loose by the lifting of the rock. Sythe

picked it up and flung it far out into the lake. In an instant, a large trout broke the

surface and rose to consume the timely, natural, morsel. "Weeks or months ago, a

dragonfly went below the surface of the water and laid its eggs. That action began a

cycle which happens every year. The trout know what time of year it is. They know

what is hatching. Good fishermen do too," Sythe was giving his best performance. It

was easy since he'd received the lecture as a biology student. Crain and Sythe had

prepared themselves for questions about insects and plants. They anticipated

questions and, like the curious authorities that were in their country, they expected to

meet curious authorities in Ecuador.

"Will you join us for lunch?" Salgado asked as he assembled twigs for a campfire,

"we have plenty of fish."

The four men ate and discussed the difficulty of catching a highly intelligent quarry

- like trout. Each man admitted his respect for the hunted. Each man admitted that he

enjoyed the hunt.

Lupo walked the men to Salgado's truck and stood by as they loaded their gear.

"Can I speak with you, Salgado 7", Lupo asked. Crain and Sythe chatted as the Captain

and the guide went off to talk. The North Americans could not hear the conversation.

During the long drive back, Sythe asked Salgado what kind of plants were growing

at such elevations, in such vast quantities. "Coca, Sir, Coca," was Salgado's quiet

answer. "Why do you ask ?"

"For so many plants, they have to be pollinated. It must take billions of insects to

spread the pollen. I'm just curious about all insect cycles to see what fish eat and when

the insects are present in the trout's life cycle. It's just curiosity," Sythe answered.

"Captain Lupo told me about your curiosity," Salgado said before sinking into a

silent drive which descended to his farm.

Chapter 26. Checking the Hatch.

As the men climbed the stairs to their apartment, Salgado promised to take them

fishing in the ocean on the following day. He walked off to prepare dinner. Sythe and

Crain walked to the tackle room to check the hatch of their imported insects.

When they turned on the lights, Crain immediately saw the movement of some

caterpillars inside the jars. Sythe inspected the jars and saw the edges of gnawed

leaves. But the suspected coca leaves were intact as were the coffee leaves. Half the

hatch was out and eating, none feasted on the deep green leaves of coffee and

suspected coca.

"If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. We had a great fishing trip," Crain

offered as he observed Sythe's eyes.

"There's a crack in this cocoon, the Tasmanian Devil should emerge soon,' Sythe

spoke as if he didn't hear Crain,' Nature is running the show, we can only watch and

wait. Let's get ready for dinner. You shower first. I'm going to jog through the coffee

fields, up to the coca fields, and grab some fresh coca leafs for our hatchlings. I'll be

quick."

Chapter 27. Success and Intrigue.

Salgado got the men to the wharf at 5:30 A.M. By 3:00 P.M. they were heading

back. Three thirty pound Tuna and one White Marlin filled the ice bin. At the wharf,

Crain tipped the Captain of La Bonita Guapa as Sythe gave the Marlin and two Tuna to

some natives.

As the men expressed gratitude to the crew of La Bonita Guapa, Crain's attention

was drawn to a walled roadway which overlooked the harbor. The architecture

reminded him of visits to Sausalito and films he'd seen of Monte Carlo. There, about

two hundred yards away, Crain could see two men standing at the low wall which

served as the barrier for the elevated roadway. Crain sensed that the men were

watching him he diverted his glance. Aiming his head at the boat, Crain cut his eyes

back towards the men. The two wore sunglasses and one held binoculars. Crain was

summoned to join Salgado and Sythe for the ride back to the ranch. As he moved to

join his companions, the men on the overlook moved too. They disappeared from view.

The two hour drive back to Salgado's ranch was uneventful. The men discussed

fishing some lower pools along the stream fished during their first day in Ecuador. As

Salgado approached his private road, the Pathfinder neared an oncoming vehicle. The

two vehicles passed and, within a mile, Salgado turned off the road onto his own

property. The airborne dust betrayed the presence of a previous vehicle's transit.

Crain looked back at Sythe. Crain thought back to the passing vehicle. "Could its

driver have been Captain Lupo," he thought. Crain dismissed the thought,

envisioning instead, cold beer.

At the bam, the usual routine was followed. Salgado had a longer task; cleaning

and preparing the Tuna. Crain showered while Sythe checked on the hatch. He

wanted to see if the Devils were out and if any caterpillar was tasting the coca

leaves he had collected the night before.

As he entered the tackle room and turned the lights on, Sythe saw disturbances on

many shelves. Someone had inspected the jars but none were missing. A search had

been conducted.

Crain's shower was interrupted by Sythe's news. Crain related thinking he'd seen

Captain Lupo in the passing vehicle. As they talked, Salgado knocked on their door.

Sythe admitted Salgado. "So you want to fish the stream tomorrow, have you tied any

flies in the tackle room?," Salgado asked as he entered the room.

"No. We plan to use some of the caterpillars we brought and they are hatched and

growing. Here, look at these caterpillars of the Gypsy Moth," Sythe said as he handed a

large jar to Salgado. Salgado imspected the jar. He knew that the colors and the

movements of the caterpillar would attract any fish. He was impressed.

As Salgado inspected the Gypsy Moths, Sythe's eyes noted two of the Tasmanian

Devil jars. They were empty of any leafs. There, wriggling and moving about, were

plump and colorful caterpillars who were looking for food. As Sythe's mind raced, he

wondered if the intruder had stolen or removed the leafs that were in the Devil's jars.

*When do we eat ?, " Sythe asked Salgado.

"Soon, I am grilling the Tuna steaks right now," Salgado answered as he left the

apartment. "T'm anxious to see if your North American Caterpillars attract our South

American trout. We will know tomorrow.”

Sythe was puzzled. The Tasmanian Devil Caterpillars had hatched. They had

either caten - devoured - all of their food, or the leaves had been removed, probably by

Captain Lupo. Fortunately, thought Sythe, Lupo doesn't possess any knowledge of

insects or the damage they are capable of doing. Sythe ran through the fields and

retrieved a bag of coca leafs. He would learn if the Devils liked coca.

Crain walked out of the bathroom, clad in a towel, drinking a beer. As he looked

across the room, he saw Sythe seated at a table, staring at an activity on a plate. As

Crain walked closer, he saw, perched upon Sythe's index finger, a two inch long

Tasmanian Devil caterpillar. The caterpillar anchored itself to Sythe's finger with its

rear legs. It stood erect. In the clutches of its front legs, the caterpillar supported a

half-eaten coca leaf. There, before their eyes, was the solution they sought to the

world's cocaine problem. As the men stared silently and pondered their success, the

caterpillar finished the leaf, discharged a milky plug of digested feces on Sythe's

finger and accepted another leaf that was placed before it.

"I bet you can't eat just one, 'Crain said as he alluded to a famous potato chip

commercial. Charlie, you've done it. The world will never be the same."

Chapter 28. Planting the Seeds of Coca's Eradication.

After dinner, Sythe conducted an inventory of his Tasmanian Devils and one

hundred seventy-three were busy devouring coca leafs. So rapid was the consumption

of coca leaves, that Sythe retreated to the barn storage area and returned with a bag of

leafs.

"Joe, I have got to spring all of our insects onto Ecuador's coca crops tonight.

We'll keep some Gypsy Moth Caterpillars for bait and we'll keep this guy, I've named

him Sancho Panza, but I need to go as far into the fields as possible and then I will

release our friends."

Sythe climbed down the stairs and walked quickly through the coffee crop. He

gained altitude and climbed several terraces. After walking for over an hour, he

stopped and began to release caterpillars and egg sacs not yet opened. Sythe spaced

them and maximized their feeding range while enhancing their survivability. He

hoped that birds or other predators would not eliminate their numbers. As he walked

back to the apartment, Sythe thought of mathematical exponentials. Biology relies

upon so much math. As Sythe calculated the maximum exponential for eighty

surviving Tasmanian Devils, he was surprised by Salgado at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mr. Sythe, can I help you? It is very late and we are getting up early. The early

bird catches the worm…tomorrow the early caterpillar will catch the fish! Good night

Mr. Sythe.*

"Good night, Julio."

Chapter 29. Departure.

Crain and Sythe spent their remaining days fishing in the stream and at the

highland lake. They caught some trout on the Gypsy Moth Caterpillars. Salgado was

impressed. He asked the Americans how he could go about cultivating caterpillars to

use as bait for his client's fishing options. Sythe asked if Salgado had any Cherry or

Mulberry trees as it was those leaves that are preferred by the green, Gypsy Moth

Caterpillar. Salgado found a field guide for North and South American trees and Sythe

found the best tree for the caterpillar. He went with Sythe to the "seed" tree and

deposited the remainder of the caterpillars on various limbs of the tree.

Crain and Sythe tipped Salgado after paying the guide's fee. They drove to the

airport.

As Sythe and Crain waited in the departure lounge after clearing Customs, they

were approached by Captain Lupo. "Gentlemen, I'm glad I caught you before you left

my country. I have something I want to tell you," Lupo said.

Crain felt the hair on his neck begin to rise and could feel perspiration on the

surface of his hands.

"Sure, Captain Lupo, what did you want to tell us 7?", Sythe asked.

"I was mistaken about you Americanos. When you first arrived, you looked like

cops or agents of the D.E.A. I thought your fishing rods were covers for narcotic

activities and I watched you closely. I could not determine if you were here to purchase

cocaine or if you were here for the D.E.A. But I learned much from you and I have

taken up fishing for trout. The lunch we shared was delicious. But I am most deeply

indebted to you for your lessons on insects. I never knew what was going on all

around me. I never took the time to inspect leaves, branches, egg sacs. So I have

brought each of you a gift. It is a small gift but it is special. I have already cleared it

through Customs. Captain Lupo reached into his pocket and produced two wrapped

boxes. "Here, do not open them here. It is appropriate that you open them in flight.

Gentlemen, thank you again, adios."

Chapter 30. Return.

"Do you think Captain Lupo could be so diabolical that he put narcotics in these

boxes and hopes that we are arrested in Mexico City, Joe 7", Sythe asked.

"Look, I was very convinced that you really made a friend when you taught him all

about insects and butterflies. I believe that there are gifts in these boxes. Let's read the

note, then open the boxes," Crain said as he opened the note.

Gentlemen,

My work as a Federal Agent for my country makes me distrustful

of all visitors. They usually want to exploit my country's resources or her

people. I apologize for being suspicious of you and I genuinely believe that

you were only here to fish and bring revenue to Salgado. I now have a

new found interest in insects and have purchased several field guides.

Your gifts both fly and prevent things from flying, they are our National

treasure.

If you ever return to my country, it would be an honor for me to

escort you and to have you as my guests.

Lupo

As each man tore off the wrapping and opened their boxes, they could see a Lucite

cube of clear plastic. Like ancient honey bees preserved in amber, Lupo had given

them broad winged butterflies suspended in plastic. The base had a printed

description of the butterfly and told of its migratory route to Northern Mexico and

Southern Texas and Florida. At the top of the printing was the word PAPERWEIGHT.

Sythe examined the iridescent wings of the three inch wide butterfly and spoke,

"the paperweight keeps things from flying away and the butterfly flies. That Lupo has

a soft heart after all. Do you think he'll ever know or understand what we did ?"

"Hell, Charlie, we don't even know if the Devils will work. If they do, he may find

out or figure it out because you've got him interested in insects and butterflies now.

‘Where are you goin' ta put your paperweight ?, " Crain asked.

"On my desk at work, knucklehead. Where did you think ?", Sythe retorted.

"You're the knucklehead. We don't have desks anymore. We go back on patrol

duties tomorrow. Like they said at the academy: when you're a patrol officer, your

briefcase is your desk, your car is your office. Remember ?, Charlie."

"Don't remind me. Remember, after switching flights twice, we reenter the U.S

through Canada. Our friends and family do not know we went South., "Sythe said.

"Charlie, how will we explain these paperweights ?"

"Tell everyone we met some nice sport fishermen from Ecuador when we were

fishing in Alberta.. That would be the truth, sort of Yea, that will work. That's our

story, the new fishing friends from South America gave us the paperweights as gifts."

Chapter 31. Stretchers.

On the flight from Canada to Dulles International Airport, Crain and Sythe readied

themselves for the many questions that co-workers and family members would put to

them.

"Did you ever read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Joe ?, * Charlie asked.

"Yea. Why ?", Joe responded

"Whenever Mark Twain had Huck telling a lie, he called the lie a stretcher. So

Huck Finn didn't tell lies, he told stretchers; as in stretching the truth. Another

meaning Huck had for stretchers was when people would describe the length of the

fish they caught; as they would hold out their hands to describe the length of the fish,

the distance between their hands would widen - as if the imaginary fish were

stretching."

"Charlie, what has Huck Finn got to do with what we tell our family and friends

?", Crain demanded.

"We went fishing. Fishermen tell "fish" stories. They bend the truth, They

embellish. They tell stretchers. Get it. We are going to have to stretch the truth. Remind

me to deliver this fresh salmon to Dr. Kho as soon as we get home. I'm glad 1

remembered to buy it at the airport," Sythe said.

Chapter 32. Readjustment.

"Men, Lt. McQueen wants to see you before you leave today," Sergeant Newcome said

as the shift ended. "Good to have you back in the Patrol Division."

"Everybody is crackin' on us Joe. Half the Department thinks it's funny seeing us

in uniform and half of the Department that was jealous of our work as detectives are

enjoying our “downfall.” I guess we'll have to just take our anger out on the criminals,

we got guns, we got badges, we'll just arrest bad guys."

"Let's go see Rusty," Crain said as he adjusted his gunbelt, 'T'm still gettin' used to

this uniform. Hi ! Rusty! The Lieutenant wants to see us."

"Did you guys see any Eskimos or Polar Bears on your fishing trip ? Thanks for

the postcard. Did you catch any fish as big as the one on the postcard you sent ?,"

Rusty joked.

"No. We didn't see any Eskimos or Polar Bears and yes we caught some big fish,"

Sythe said as he produced the photograph taken along the St. Lawrence River.

Lt. McQueen entered the room from his office and greeted the two patrol officers,

"well, the men in blue, back from Canada. How is life in patrol treating you ?" Crain

and Sythe entered the Lieutenant's office and sat down. "Seriously, guys, are you

adjusting to patrol ? I know you've been out of it for awhile."

"It's hard getting respect. Everyone wants to get their laughs. Some of the

crooks even think we got transferred because we did something wrong.", Sythe said.

“Yea. The crooks cannot comprehend organizational behavior and don't

understand that two good detectives who did nothing wrong would be moved to

patrol. You should have seen Tyrone today. We stopped him in the alley behind the

seven-eleven. He was walking and we drove by in our squad car. Charlie said 'Tyrone,

what you doin'?' and Tyrone recognized the voice. But when he looked at the squad

car it didn't compute in his brain. You could see the look on his face. He was puzzled

and confused. He thought we were joking. He walked over to the car and bent down,

when he saw me in uniform and driving he did a double-take. We got out of the car

and talked to him. You know, his hands are more swollen than ever. We could not

convince him that the simple reason we were in uniform was because we were

routinely transferred., " Crain explained.

"Tyrone kept thinking conspiracy. He figures we're in uniform so we can catch

crooked cops who are in uniform. He said that other druggies have already put forth

that theory. No one believes that we are back in patrol for simple reasons. Everyone

thinks that the reasons are complex and at the bottom reason is that we are still

investigators.," Sythe added.

"You guys have trouble being believed by everyone. Some of the guys had trouble

believing that you went fishing for two weeks in Canada," the Lieutenant said.

Crain slid the Canada photo across the desk and Lieutenant McQueen admired the

large fish. "Did you hit the black fly season?, he asked.

"No, the black flys hatch in August, "Sythe said

"Well look men, I just wanted to see you since you've returned and see how well

you're adjusting to being back in patrol. From time to time, I may be calling on you to

give pointers to the new detectives, otherwise, good luck on your new assignments.",

Lt. McQueen stood and escorted the men to the squad room.

The squad room was a casual place where officers retreated to write reports or

assemble as shifts changed. It featured a large table, with chairs, a T.V. and V.C.R. and

all of the Department's forms for report writing. A television news program appeared

on the screen but the volume was muted. The patrol officers could see the heads of

the F.B.I and the D.E.A. at a press conference. Crain adjusted the volume....

In a press conference today, held at the Justice Department, the

Directors of the F.B.l. and D.E.A. announced significant gains made jointly

by their agencies on the war on drugs. F.B.I. Special Agent in Charge

Hope Norms reported the year's largest seizure of Cocaine for the

Washington suburbs and displayed a six pound package seized as a result

of a nine month-long investigation. F.B.1. Director Frazier reported that

the operation was conducted jointly with the D.E.A. D.E.A. Director

Bonnell stated that the seizure was significant and represented another

victory in the war....In other news....

"I don't know which turkey is full of more stuffing, 'Sythe said,' Norms or

Bonnell. Do you remember that package of dope that the post office returned to Hong

Kong, Joe ? When Hong Kong Customs opened the package, it contained 28 pounds of

heroin. It was shipped to Virginia and returned to Hong Kong, isn't a 28 pound

shipment that made it here, the largest shipment for the region on the year ? These

guys and politicians are full of it."

"You know what I think about their efforts to solve problems, Charlie, I'm going

home to take the boys fishing. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Chapter 33. Patience.

"I don't know why we meet here every week, Charlie. It's been fourteen months

since we went south and nothing has changed. Our guys probably got eaten by those

bats we would see flying every night. We were probably unsuccessful," Crain said.

"First of all, don't give up hope. Second, the bats were fruit bats and they are

nocturnal. Butterflies and Dragonflies don't fly at night. Third, I did get some

encouragement from a New York Times article I read today on page 29. The column

was only six inches long, but it was buried," Sythe responded.

"What did it say? Hungry insects eat South American Coca Crop ?", ", asked Crain.

"No, much better than that. This article quoted the D.E.A. Special Agent in

Charge of the Quito, Ecuador field office. He announced to an A.P. reporter that their

efforts had significantly reduced the region's coca harvest and he predicted increasing

declines in coca production. "

"Why is that encouraging? It didn't say anything about insects, " Crain asked.

"Joe, we both know that the D.E.A. and F.B.I. are going to take credit for man

made events, God made events and a whole bundle of circumstances they have

nothing to do with. If they can grab some headlines, their Director can ask Congress

for larger budgets. I think maybe our friends are hungry in the Andes. Well have to

see more indicators, but I'm encouraged," Sythe responded.

"What are you doin' readin' the New York Times, anyway ?"

"Joe, we're not going to get a message carried by a passenger butterfly, bringing

us the good news from South America. We have to become adept at reading the signs

along the way. We talked about it over a year ago. There will be unrest in South

America. U.S. prices will shoot up. Crime will increase. Supply will decline. Prices will

increase. Hoarding will occur. Politicians will attempt to take credit. So will law

enforcement administrators. Hell, the government may attempt to control the real

cause of the crop's demise, because it will indicate how law enforcement and

politicians failed where an insect succeeded. No one but us will ever know the truth.

So I read obscure pages of more worldly newspapers, looking for small signs. You and

I know the roadmap. I think, at this point, we ought to shift from meeting at the Elm

tree every month to every week. I'll continue to monitor print media and teletypes at

the Department. You start monitoring television reports and your computer E-mail.

I'll see you tomorrow. Fourteen months. We knew it could take two years. For our

project, Joe, these are the important times."

Chapter 34. A Tale of Two Cities.

Quito, Ecuador

"Charlie, I finally have some news to report and I think it's consistent with the

pattern you predicted. It took two months of staying up after working the four-to-two

shift, but last night, it paid off," Crain exclaimed

"Good, you go first, then I've got something for you," Sythe said.

"Last night, or really, this morning on that all night news program, they had this

reporter, Ace Striker, file a report from Quito. The reporter was standing in the central

square of some small town outside of Quito and they were in the marketplace. The

camera panned the vegetable and fruit stands and you could see those bags of coca

leaves but then the camera stopped on the reporter. Behind her, you could see some

frenzied activity going on and there were a bunch of peasants exchanging jars full of

something for U.S. currency. The man who was buying the jars was dressed in a white

suit and wore sunglasses and a Panama hat. As the reporter went on to file her story,

the camera panned to a jar full of caterpillars. The reporter stated that the local coca-

picking peasants were losing productivity. They had to work twice as hard to fill a bag

with coca leaves because the caterpillars were eating the leaves at a very fast rate. The

drug lords recognized the problem but didn't want to increase the amount of money

they would pay for a bag-full of leaves. The whole thrust of the report was to

announce the birth of a new economy in Ecuador. The drug lords were offering a 2

cent bounty on each caterpillar. The report then went to a mountainside and showed

peasants working to fill bags with coca leafs while plucking live caterpillars from

branches and placing them in jars. As the camera panned the mountainside, you could

see that much of the crop was decimated by the caterpillars. It looks like our guys

have established a foothold. The reporter promised a follow-up and said that she

would be interviewing an insect expert from the University in Ecuador. What's your

news, Charlie? " Crain was animated.

Washington, D.C.

"I was in the investigation division today and saw a D.E.A. monthly bulletin on

street level prices. You know, that major city, monthly monitoring program where they

go out and make street buys, analyze the purity and develop trends. Well, cocaine and

rock cocaine street prices are up 20% in every major city reporting and purity levels are

dropping between 10% and 15%. I think that the report you saw and the impact on

street prices and quality are indicators that something is negatively affecting the

South American coca crop. We have got to keep our circle of knowledge to two. Pretty

soon, we should be seeing burglaries and robberies increase as prices increase and

supply decreases. We will start getting some action on the job and can get away from

writing traffic tickets," Sythe reported.

"When I watched that gal's report, I'll tell you.the look in the faces of the peasants

was a frightened look. They were scared. One guy held one of the caterpillars up to

the camera and said 'El Diablo, El Diablo', do you know what that means, Charlie ?"

Sythe said, "It means: the Devil, the Devil."

"Charlie, I can remember talking to you sixteen months ago about the backlash we

could anticipate if we are the least bit successful. We better be prepared," Crain stated

"No one knows. The passage of time protects us. We get to sit back and watch it

all unfold," said Sythe, knowingly.

Chapter 35. More News.

"Charlie, that gal on the late evening news, I told you about two nights ago, she

interviewed a professor at the University of Quito early this moming on television. It

was a great interview. She asked the guy if he knew where the caterpillar came from

and the professor said that they didn't know. The show went from the University to a

mountainside. That reporter, Ace Striker, was kneeling down along with the professor

and he was handling the soil. The professor said that he and his colleagues had never

seen a phenomenon like the caterpillar they call El Diablo. He said that they devour

the leaves on a coca bush. As they eat, they grow and drop their feces onto the soil

below the shrub. He said that the salt content is so high, and the volume of caterpillar

feces so great, that the soil becomes contaminated and incapable of supporting any

crop. The professor said that they had put out requests for assistance from 200 U.S.

professors who specialize in insects and he reported that only five have responded

favorably. Ace Striker closed out the report by announcing that 195 U.S. professors

have rejected a request by the government of Ecuador to assist them in saving their

coca crop. She said that they refused to participate in any activity which fostered

criminal activity or human suffering. She also announced that the International Red

Cross was initiating humanitarian efforts to support thousands of peasants who can

no longer support themselves by picking coca leaves," Crain reported.

"So our guys are doing a double whammy. They kill plants and poison soil.

Great. No one will have a clue that we were involved. I hope they spread to other

countries. Just keep watching that reporter. I'll monitor teletypes and print media. I'll

see you at work tomorrow. The Lieutenant wants to see us at 10:00 A.M.," Sythe added.

Chapter 36. Old Friends.

"Gentlemen, come on in, I have some old friends of yours here. Sit down, " LI.

McQueen said as he led Sythe and Crain into his office. There, the two officers turned

to face the D.E.A. analysts encountered a year and one half earlier : Hartkin and

Harter. "Men, Analysts Hartkin and Harter tell me they encountered the two of you in

Mexico City a year and a half ago. I told them that's impossible. They don't believe me

and they want to interview you here," McQueen said.

Harter started the questioning," What were you guys doing in Mexico City, at the

airport, a year and a half ago ?"

"We've...I've never been to Mexico City in my life, " Crain answered.

"Neither have I," said Sythe.

"You had drinks with us I" Hartkin responded, "In the lounge at the airport."

"I believe you may have been drinking at the airport in Mexico City, but it wasn't

with us. How much did you have to drink 7," queried Crain.

"Gentlemen," interrupted Lt. McQueen,' they've answered your question. You're

free to leave, officers.

Crain and Sythe walked out of the office, shaking their heads. Lt. McQueen

directed questions at the two D.E.A. analysts. "Why is it important to know or confirm

that two patrol officers from Virginia were in Mexico City, Mexico a year and a half

ago ? Do you suspect them of smuggling narcotics? Have they broken the law ?, "

McQueen asked.

Chapter 36. Old Friends.

"Gentlemen, come on in, I have some old friends of yours here. Sit down, " LI.

McQueen said as he led Sythe and Crain into his office. There, the two officers turned

to face the D.E.A. analysts encountered a year and one half earlier : Hartkin and

Harter.

"Men, Analysts Hartkin and Harter tell me they encountered the two of you in

Mexico City a year and a half ago. I told them that's impossible. They don't believe me

and they want to interview you here," McQueen said.

Harter started the questioning," What were you guys doing in Mexico City, at the

airport, a year and a half ago ?"

"We've...I've never been to Mexico City in my life, " Crain answered.

"Neither have I," said Sythe.

"You had drinks with us I" Hartkin responded, "In the lounge at the airport."

"I believe you may have been drinking at the airport in Mexico City, but it wasn't

with us. How much did you have to drink ?," queried Crain.

"Gentlemen," interrupted Lt. McQueen,' they've answered your question. You're

free to leave, officers.

Crain and Sythe walked out of the office, shaking their heads. Lt. McQueen

directed questions at the two D.E.A. analysts. "Why is it important to know or confirm

that two patrol officers from Virginia were in Mexico City, Mexico a year and a half

ago ?

“Do you suspect them of smuggling narcotics? Have they broken the law ?, " McQueen

asked.

"Lieutenant, can we go outside and talk ?", Hartkin asked. Lieutenant McQueen

led them to a grassy area below the trees which sheltered the squirrel colony. "Is this

O.K. ?," McQueen asked.

Hartner began," We have the ability to go back in the computer maintained by

Customs and see if Crain or Sythe traveled outside the country when we saw them at

the airport in Mexico City."

"Well, did the computer tell you that they went to Mexico City ?, * McQueen

asked.

"That's one of our problems, ' Hartkin said,' Customs has no record of your men's

leaving the country ever."

"I know that they went to Canada on a fishing trip, they filed leave slips and

brought back photographs of them holding fish along the St. Lawrence Seaway. I'll

show you." Lt. McQueen went inside and returned with a photograph of Crain and

Sythe holding a fish wrapped in a Canadian Newspaper. "If this isn't proof, I don't

know what is," McQueen stated.

Hartkin took a deep breath and stared at Lt. McQueen, then spoke," Lieutenant,

what we are about to tell you is highly confidential and, if you reveal it to anyone, ever,

we will deny that we told you this. We both saw your officers at the airport lounge in

Mexico City and had drinks with them. Within a year after that encounter, the coca

crop in Ecuador began to shrink because of the introduction, to Ecuador, of a

mysterious butterfly and its caterpillar. As analysts, we have to assimilate vast

quantities of information and relate seemingly disparate bits of information into

themes which explain events and patterns of behavior. We are now confronted with

the task of solving a mysterious puzzle. We have been given very few pieces of the

puzzle. We believe that your officers, who told us that they were down there to fish

for trout, are pieces in the puzzle. We believe that your officers had something to do

with the elimination and destruction of coca in Ecuador. We are hoping to determine

from them the secret to this problem. Or, at least, what part of the puzzle they

constitute.*

McQueen responded, "You guys are loony. First of all, if they were responsible

for this butterfly, the government would be giving them a Presidential award, not

sending some confused, intoxicated analysts out here to snoop around. Second, you

are asking me to believe that my two patrol officers have succeeded where every

Federal Law Enforcement effort has failed. Third, when I know that they went to

Canada, and have proof that they went to Canada, you're challenging my intelligence

by telling me that they went to Mexico City. But you admit that your own computers

have no proof that my men went to Mexico City."

"Lieutenant, there are very important matters at stake here which have global

significance...", Hartkin uttered

Lt. McQueen interrupted, " The only global significance is that you're telling me

that coca is being wiped-out by a butterfly or a caterpillar and there's nothing you did

to contribute to the solution but, instead, you come out to a local police department

and want to grill my men about where they went fishing eighteen months ago. Seems

to me you should be finding out how to get more of those caterpillars and set them

loose all over South America, already we have seen a drastic increase in robberies and

burglaries and a significant drop in cocaine arrests. What would you ask them if they

said they went to Mexico ?"

"First, how they traveled there and under what names. Second, why they used

aliases. Third, if they initiated the caterpillar attack, how can the governments of the

world interrupt the activities of the caterpillar," Hartkin said.

McQueen, incredulous, asked, " Why would anyone want to interrupt the activities

of the coca eating caterpillar? We, all law abiding people of the earth, want to

eliminate coca, don't we ?"

"Lieutenant, our skills as analysts are in the analysis of economic impact. World

cocaine trafficking contributes to 45% of the underground economy of the world.

That's more than the percentage of the underground economy represented by Heroin

at 30%. If coca is eradicated suddenly, many national economies would collapse.

Several U.S. State's economies would collapse, banks would fold and a crisis larger

than the R.T.C. crisis would ensue. Uprising and revolt may occur, in South America,

as coca-economy-based peasants demonstrate and riot."

"You didn't mention how the number of U.S. Cocaine addicts would drop,

hospital Emergency Room admissions and treatment would drop, crime committed by

cocaine dependent criminals would decline, the D.E.A. could cut its numbers in half

and direct its activities towards Heroin and Marijuana," McQueen responded.

"Lieutenant, we're economic analysts, not social workers. The eradication of coca

must be phased and controlled by people who know what they are doing...""

McQueen interrupted for the last time, "Get your economic analyzing butts off of

this police department and out of my sight. This department and the good men and

women of the United States Law Enforcement community have fought too long to end

narcotics problems to have you guys insult all of the dead law enforcement officer's

memories by suggesting that our Federal Law Enforcement Agencies want to regulate

the eradication of an illegal drug because of global economic conditions. I say, more

power to the caterpillars. I hope when they eat up the entire coca crop, they start on

poppies. Now get out of here."

Chapter 37. Transferred Again.

Lt. McQueen went into the station and asked the dispatcher to call Sythe and

Crain. As it was near the end of their shift, the officers drove to the parking area and

began to organize their brief cases and unload their cruisers. Lt. McQueen approached

both men and spoke," It's been almost two years since the Chief transferred you two to

patrol As you know, Robberies, Burglaries and crimes against persons has been up 150

-200% and our Detective staff has been unable to keep up with the increase. The Chief

has transferred you back to the investigation division. You will be under my

command. You will still be general assignment but your major assignments will

change. About the only drop in crime is cocaine possession and distribution. We even

have increased heroin possession and distribution cases. Any questions ?"

Crain asked, “ Yea, Lieutenant, will we be able to take two weeks off so we can

go fishing in Canada to get our heads straight, before going back to investigations ?"

"Hell no !,' McQueen said,' those jerk D.E.A. analysts would be coming back two

years later saying you two went to some drug capital somewhere in the world and

wiped out a crop. Do me a favor...I don't need any more visits from guys like them.

And don't expect vacation time for a long time. Our level of crime will probably

require overtime for the foreseeable future."

Sythe slid his briefcase across the seat of his cruiser, forgetting to snap shut its

closures. When he hefted the briefcase out of the car, its contents spilled to the

ground. Crain and McQueen bent down and picked up papers, tickets, pencils and

clipboards. McQueen's eyes fixed upon a Lucite cube which rested beneath the front

left tire of Sythe's cruiser. Picking it up, and eyeing the suspended butterfly inside the

cube, McQueen read the label affixed to the bottom "From Ecuador. This cube is from

Ecuador? Where and when did you get this, Charlie ?", Queen demanded.

"When we fished in Canada, we stayed at a lodge that catered to an international

crowd. We met a man during that vacation who appreciated some fishing tips we gave

him and he gave us both a paperweight. If we had offices and desks, like we had before

the Chief transferred us, you would have seen these cubes holding down papers in our

office, long ago. But our office is the cruiser and our desks become our briefcases. You

really just saw my paperweight fall off of my "desk" Lieutenant," Sythe answered.

"Quite a coincidence,' McQueen remarked as he handed the cube to Sythe,'

butterflies and Ecuador, D. E. A. analysts and fishing trips, paperweights and

butterflies. You start tomorrow on the 5:00 PM to 01:00 AM shift. Report to me at 4:30

PM."

Chapter 38. Impact.

Crain eased down the window so he could toss a handful of pistachio shells to the

pavement. *I stayed up late to watch that gal, Ace Striker, on the all night news last

night and they said that she now has her own prime-time show. This week her show

will be on Wednesday night and it will be a two hour long special on the demise of

coca in South America. The advertisement for the show promised to cover socio-

economic impact to the peasants who picked the leafs, socio-economic impact to

cocaine abusers on U.S. streets, the impact on drug cartels and U.S. dealers and the

"spin" that U.S. law enforcement is putting on the whole issue," Crain said to Sythe

as they watched the seven- eleven store.

"That probably explains why the President has announced a press conference for

Tuesday night with the Directors of the D.E.A. and the F.B.I. I talked to Tyrone

yesterday and he says that he can't get cocaine or rock. Well, not real cocaine or real

rock. He said that months ago, the street level dealers started cutting cocaine 50% with

manitol. The users didn't appreciate the diluted quality so they started cutting cocaine

with amphetamines. They figured the users wouldn't know the difference, but they

did. Then prices for the real thing started shooting up and rip-offs increased. Nobody

trusted anybody. Everyone was rippin' each other. Rock was a different story. They

can't dilute rock. The baking soda cooks off all of the diluents. So for rock, the prices

kept getting higher and the availability decreased. Tyrone says he hasn't had real

cocaine or rock for eight months. He's been switched over to Heroin for six months.

He says it's plentiful, cheap and high quality. The word on the street, Tyrone says, is

that nobody can get cocaine. He said that only the lawyers and bankers have any and

that what little that is left is hoarded and kept in safe deposit boxes. You know those

little rooms where the rich go inside banks to store valuables? Tyrone said that the

wealthy all go to their banks to get high. When the availability dropped, rich people

started hiding their stash in safe deposit boxes. When they want to get high, they go

to their banks. Nobody keeps coke at home or work anymore. The way he described it

to me, it sounded like the Great Depression.," Sythe told Crain.

"No wonder the Lieutenant said the cocaine related arrests are down. It's sort of

like Ronald Reagan's "trickle-down" theory. Months or years after our caterpillar

buddies start munching on coca leafs, the impact is finally being felt by the United

States society. It's what we wanted, Charlie. Congratulations," Crain said

"It will still be interesting to see what kind of spin the Government puts on this

one. Who tries to take credit for the "success" and who points fingers. Ace Striker's

report the next day should be interesting. She's been covering the caterpillar for

eighteen months and that report in Quito. Changing the subject, Sythe said," Tyrone

told me he's overdosed three times on heroin since he switched. Twice with the

needle still stuck in his arm. Once in the mensroom at the American Legion hall.

Maybe we just shifted the problem; didn't eliminate it. Didn't solve it. What do you

think , Joe ?"

"A long time ago we identified the problem as we saw it. It was the coca shrub in

South America. Until the shrub is eradicated to the extent that smallpox is eradicated,

then we haven't solved the problem. If we do, or once we do, then we can identify and

attack other problems in the war on drugs. One thing has always been clear : the U.S.

Criminal Justice System is not the solution and neither is a bunch of D.A.R.E.

programs, treatment facilities, syringe give-aways, border interdiction or alternative

crop subsidies. You and I have to recognize all of the positive impact that has been

accomplished in the war on the real root of the cocaine problem. Fewer and fewer

coca shrubs are growing in South America, fewer leafs are being harvested, less

cocaine is being processed and less cocaine is being shipped. Those facts are

incremental successes. Total success for cocaine will come with the total eradication

of the coca crop. I need to ask my buddy at N.P.I.C. what the satellites are saying. That

imagery doesn't lie. I'll look into it tomorrow. Let's mect Thursday night on Elm

Avenue, same place, same time," Crain said.

Chapter 39. Caterpillars spin cocoons; Presidents spin yarns.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States !"

"Good evening. Tonight's press conference is limited to the topic the successful

efforts of the United State's to control the flow of cocaine and its derivatives to the

United States. I have asked the Directors of the D.E.A. and F.B.I. to summarize their

successful efforts and the three of us will take questions after giving our statements

Tonight, I am pleased to announce that multiple agencies of the United States

government have succeeded in reducing cocaine smuggling through our borders by

half. This 50% reduction has been accomplished, over a two year period, through the

coordinated efforts of U.S. Coast Guard, F.B.L, D.E.A., local and State Police

Agencies and through the cooperation of South American law enforcement

authorities. The reduction has been so dramatic, as the Director of the F.B.I. will tell

you, that prices have doubled and that event has increased the reporting of other

forms of crime in our country. As the Director of the D.E.A. will illustrate, the

successful efforts to stem the flow of cocaine through our borders will enable the

D.E.A. to redirect personnel towards combating Heroin and Marijuana. So now, I give

you the Director of the D.E.A., Mr. Bonnell:

Bonnell's Statement.

"Good evening. After a grueling two year interdiction and alternative crop

program administered, mostly outside our country, by the fine men and women of the

D.E.A., I am pleased to announce that global production of coca and it's derivatives is

down 50% and the graph continues to spiral downward. These successful efforts,

coordinated with the F.B.L and Coast Guard as well as Local and State Police Agencies

were unexpected. We have reassessed our master plan and now find that we can

redirect our activities towards the Golden Triangle, Becca Valley, Mexican, Turkish

and Pakistani production of the Poppy Plant. I will now turn the podium over to

Director Frazier of the F.B.I."

Frazier's Statement.

"Thank you, Director Bonnell. Good evening. As you know, our anti-narcotic

activity is, for the most part, domestic and limited to developing intelligence and

suppressing cocaine smuggling within the borders of the United States. Over the past

two years, as the fine D.E.A. and Coast Guard personnel would develop information

on the high seas and in South America, that information would be shared with the

F.B.I. We cross-referenced that intelligence with information provided by informants

and local and State law enforcement personnel and structured a plan of attack against

what the President has called the War on Drugs. To a large extent, as far as coca and

it's derivatives are concerned, we have succeeded. This, however, should not

necessarily be cause for great rejoicing. The Uniform Crime Reporting indicates that

Heroin and Marijuana smuggling and use, or abuse, are up. Armed robberies and drug

'rip-offs' are up. Burglaries are up. The R.T.C. reports that Southern Tier Bank failures

are up as the artificial, underground, economy is crumbling due to the failure of

cocaine to continue to support the false economy. In a way, the U.S. economy will take

several years to readjust to the leveling off of our economy now that cocaine revenues

have also dropped approximately 50%. Basically, all of us only have time to accept the

President's 'atta boy' then move on to combating other narcotics and crime problem

which have not let-up. Thank you.

Q. "Mr. President. Why can't the U.S. taxpayer expect to see a reduction in the

budget for the successful agencies ?

A. "As the Directors mentioned, their activities merely shift now from one front to

another front. Their personnel cannot relax as crime has increased on other fronts."

Q. "Director Bonnell. What percentage of the coca crop has been planted with an

alternative crop during the past two years and what is that alternative crop ?"

A. "We have convinced the good people of the coca producing countries of South

America to plant corn and coffee. With the good climate and rainfall of the past two

years, they have been fairly successful."

Q. "Director Frazier. How much further reduction in cocaine smuggling do you

anticipate ?"

A. "We believe that, within the next two years, we may be able to have an overall

reduction - of cocaine - of 90 - 95%."

Q. "Mr. President. Are we to understand that our law enforcement authorities have

been so successful that we may eliminate cocaine dependency, cocaine related

property crimes, crack babies and all of the social ills related to cocaine and the coca

plant ?"

A. "Yes, you are being told that and I believe that it is testimony to the quality level of

performance of U.S. law enforcement personnel."

Q. "Mr. President. Does the timing of this news conference have anything to do with

tomorrow night's two hour television special by Ace Striker? Her advertisements

promise to give us the real truth as to what is behind the reduction in cocaine

smuggling."

A "The timing for this announcement is related to the 50% mark. We don't have

many opportunities to announce our victories. As many of you know, this battle has

been going on for many years. The timing has nothing to do with any television

shows. Coca has been controlled and reduced by virtue of the diligent efforts of hard

working men and women of the United States law enforcement community. That will

end this news conference. Thank you for your patience and questions."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States."

Chapter 40. 100 Minutes, with Ace Striker.

Tonight, in a Special Edition of 100 Minutes with Ace Striker, we will cover the

demise of the coca plant. Join us for our Special Report, The Dying Days to Cocaine !“

"Hello. I'm Ace Striker. Tonight we will visit South America, the streets of our

major cities and the banking communities of Florida, Texas and New York. We will

take a long, hard look at ourselves - the media - that far too often fails to look

probingly into band-aid solutions to deep-seated problems. Finally, we will examine

the real source of the global cocaine problem and I will introduce you to the solution.

Now, let's go to Palm Springs, California.

"Hi, this is Jim Crawford at the Betty Ford Clinic with the Director, Ms. Wilma

Adams. Ms. Adams, could you tell us about the reduction in cocaine-dependent

admissions here and explain the phenomenon ?"

"Sure, good evening. This truly is a phenomenon because we once believed that

we could proclaim success if we ever zeroed-out a single narcotic related admission. In

other words, if we had a month with no alcohol dependency related admissions, which

has never happened, we would consider that a victory. All of our presumptions have

been turned upside down. About eighteen months ago, we began to see a dramatic

increase in admissions for cocaine dependence. Dramatic for a number of reasons.

First, the admissions were from the wealthiest of our clientele. Second, they admitted,

in our group sessions, that a global shrinkage of available cocaine had begun. Their

response to that phenomenon was to hoard cocaine and they purchased large

quantities. They also began to abuse the large quantities of hoarded cocaine. As their

dependency rose, the price increased as availability decreased. This produced a crash

which can only be attributed to forces lying outside the United States. The crash I

speak of is the near elimination of available cocaine. As a consequence, our

admissions for cocaine dependency hit an al- time low of three, six months ago, and

we began to witness increased admissions for heroin and amphetamine dependency.

The word we're getting is that some shrub disease or insect is killing the coca plant

throughout South America. "

"Ms. Adams, have any of your patients attributed the elimination of cocaine to law

enforcement efforts? You know that the President and F.B.I. and D.E.A. are currently

taking much of the credit ?" *, Striker asked

"No, Ms. Striker. The fact is, cocaine is not being smuggled into the United States

because it is not being processed in South America. It is not being processed in South

America because it is not being harvested and it is not being harvested because it can

no longer grow there. That's why our millionaire clients cannot even buy cocaine at

any price. All they report is lousy synthetics and amphetamine laced manitol

substitutes. Cocaine and Crack are over. We have other problems now but the end of

cocaine should not be credited to the Government or Law Enforcement."

"Thank you Ms. Adams and Reporter Jim Crawford. After a word from our

sponsors, we will have a report from Dave Noble in Miami. (Commercial Break) Many

of our viewers have witnessed the closure of dozens of banks in Florida which were

set up to launder drug money for cocaine cartels. We recently sent Reporter Dave

Noble to California, Texas, New York and now Florida to file a report on the impact of

cocaine's demise on U.S. banking institutions."

"This is Dave Noble in Miami. Ace, Federal Bank Regulators report that the

current cocaine related crisis is as great, or greater than, the Thrift Crisis dealing with

the S. & L. failures which spurred the creation of the R.T.C. At the core of the current

crisis is the billions of dollars in revenues generated in criminal activities related to

the smuggling and distribution of cocaine. Large profits had to be "laundered" so that

law enforcement authorities would have difficulty in locating the source of the

revenue. Ranging from smal Pizza Parlors to Gigantic Automobile and Power Boat

Dealerships, incoming drug monies were filtered through banking institutions as

legitimate earnings from retail sales. With the demise of coca and subsequent trail of

cocaine related profits, car and boat sales, "Pizza" sales and other "front" business

establishment's deposits have also declined. The result, Federal Regulators tell us, is

that Banks are failing. Reserves are way down and many banks have gone below

Federal mandatory minimums with shrinking deposits and will be closed down or

taken-over by the Federal Reserve. These same regulators are currently unable and

unwilling to estimate the depth of the problem. Off the record, one official said that

the American public cannot learn of the true scope of the problem for fear of mass

runs on all banks. I was asked to remind the viewers that all deposits less than

$100,000 will be guaranteed by the United States Government. A check with Florida's

Employment Commission today indicated that thousands of laid-off bank

employees are seeking benefits and placement of bank employees is difficult as no

banks are hiring. Ace, it appears that this crisis may take several years to shake itself

out. This is Dave Noble in Miami."*

"Thank you Dave. In a moment, Reporter Dan Chung from Harlem, New York.

(Commercial) Dan, across the nation we understand that the wealthy cocaine seekers

can't buy cocaine at any price and the banks are sufferring because cocaine money has

dried-up. What has been the impact in the inner city ?"

"Well, Ace, Harlem saw its own roller coaster ride similar to the one described at

the Betty Ford Clinic. Eighteen months ago cocaine prices were sky-rocketing. That

elevated drug rip-offs, homicides, street robberies and the increase in fake-cocaine

substitutes. Amphetamine mixtures, 5% mixtures mixed with 95% manitol, and a rash

of sugar powder rip-offs. These too produced increased street crime. Gradually, users

and abusers resigned themselves to having no cocaine and that's when substitutes

took over. Hospitals in Harlem began to report no cocaine O.D.s and, eight months

ago, they reported their first month of no crack-babies. These gains have been offset

by increases in Heroin abuse, Heroin pricing and - recently - the birth of Heroin

addicted babies. Law enforcement authorities report that mid and high level former

cocaine dealers have begun to shift their operations to heroin and the routing is now

trans-Canadian and West Coast with a shift away from the Gulf Coast. Federal

Narcotics Authorities predict that, as counter-measures enjoy success in stemming

Canadian and Western smuggling, the crime syndicates will resort to Atlantic and

Gulf routes. Ace, I understand that you're going to reveal the real hero in this war on

cocaine. Any truth to that ? *

“Yes, Dan. Tonight, I will introduce the American public to the real hero. That,

and more, is coming up. after a word from our sponsors. (commercial) Two years ago,

while assigned to the overnight desk, I reported on a mini-crisis in Ecuador. (old film

footage rolls) In the report I filed, peasant coca leaf pickers were protesting in the

market place of Ecuadorean Cities because the coca crop was being eaten by a

caterpillar they dubbed El Diablo. Recognizing the impact the caterpillar could have

on their industry, Cocaine Cartels began to pay a bounty of 2 cents for each caterpillar

and continued to pay $1 U.S. for each bag of coca leafs picked. For a growing season,

that arrangement worked. At the second season's hatch of the caterpillar, South

American coca pickers, as well as cocaine producers, found that they were fighting a

losing battle. In weather satellite imagery obtained by my staff, and enhanced to

indicate coca's growing region, you can see the global reduction of coca from the high

level in 1989 as shown in this image, to the low of 1993, which Botanists at the

University of Maryland's Agricultural Project estimate to be 10% of 1989 volume - and

rapidly declining. As you can see from the mountainside film of my visit to Bogota

and Quito last month, the hill and mountainsides are now denuded of most of the

coca shrubs. Professor Raul Santiago, of the University of Quito reports that the

government has finally determined the origin of the caterpillar and its butterfly and,

in this interview with him, indicates the ongoing mystery of how the insect arrived on

South American soil."

"Dr. Santiago, could you tell us what you know about this caterpillar known as El

Diablo ?"

"Yes, Ms. Striker. The El Diable Caterpillar is an indigenous insect of the island of

Tasmania. There, where it is known as the Tasmanian Devil, it lives a cyclical life

where the chrysalis produces a butterfly in Northern Australia. This insect's

caterpillar consumes many times its weight in whatever vegetation it finds itself upon.

Compounding these dynamics are the chemistry of this insect. Its digestive juices

have a highly acetic content. When the caterpillar consumes alkyline plants - like coca

leafs - the acid and base neutralize and precipitate in the insects feces into a potent

salt and water based fluid. When their droppings, which are voluminous, fall to the

soil, they produce a sterilizing effect.

"Could you show us one of the caterpillars, Dr. Santiago 7"

Santiago produced a plate with a small coca branch bearing about 20 leafs. From a

jar, he removed a caterpillar and placed it on the plate. He handed the plate to Ace

Striker and she announced to her audience, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce to

you, the real hero of the war on cocaine. Like the Dutch Elm Blight that ravished an

entire species in the United States, this caterpillar is about to eradicate coca from all

of South America and the world." As Striker spoke, the caterpillar deftly ate his way

through twenty leafs. As he devoured the last leaf, he stood erect by clutching a

branch in his hind legs.

"Dr. Santiago, do you know how the insect got from Tasmania or Australia to the

South American Continent ? Could the butterflies migrate over sea, could the larva

arrive on vegetation originating in those countries ?"

"Ms. Striker, we don't know how they got here. Initially, we believed that the

U.S. D.E.A. brought them here to eradicate Cocaine. Now, after filing protests with

your government and hundreds of hours of meetings, we believe that your government

has nothing to do with this problem. We are told that it is an even greater problem for

the people of the United States. Banks failing, new Heroin addicts, weak economy,

increased crime. We believe that it is a problem that your government would prefer to

avoid. Our government has considered that the Chinese Organized Crime Triads may

be responsible, they are very good with insects. Over two thousand years ago they

cultivated and managed silk worm caterpillars for spinning silk. They kept that secret

for many hundreds of years. This may be a secret that is also well kept.", Santiago

answered.

"Dr. Santiago, my last question is this: when does your government project to be

the final days of the coca plant? When will it be totally eradicated from the face of the

earth ?"

"At the current rate, which we believe will see an increase, two months. The

peasants are no longer picking coca leafs as they earn four times more money

collecting caterpillars. Still they cannot keep up. The butterflies have laid their eggs in

high trees. A year ago, peasants used to climb the trees to destroy the eggs and

caterpillars. Now, their fear is so great, and the end so near, that they simply chop the

trees down, then burn them. Our country is being denuded and defoliated by an insect

and by our people. Erosion is producing its own disasters, our economy is destroyed,

anarchy prevails. Perhaps it is good. My country lost sight of diversity in crops. When

the people of your country demanded more, more, more, our economy boomed as our

people produced more coca. In so doing, we produced less coffee, less corn, we

imported more grains and goods and really became a one-commodity exporting

nation. Coca and its derivatives. From outside forces, like nature, we are being forced

to face this reality. Two months, Ms. Striker. After that, things can only get better."

"Two issues confront us tonight as we conclude this program. One is historical,

the other, contemporary truth. Over three hundred years ago, European man

discovered coca, erythroxylon, when Spaniard Explorers found South American

Indians chewing its leaf to stave off fatigue. By the end of the Nineteenth Century, the

American Soft Drink Company was using extracts of the leaf to make the aptly named

soft drink Coca-Cola. At about the same time, Psycho-Analyst Sigmond Freud was

experimenting with the effects of liquid cocaine as it was self-administered through a

syringe directly into his veins. The history of the powder and the rock is too well

known by our viewers to warrant revisiting its enormous cost to the American - and

world's - population. This plant is about to die and its death will close the chapter on

its history. South Americans will lament the passing of a leaf which gave their people

income and endurance at high altitudes. U.S. Emergency Room Physicians and

mothers and fathers will rejoice."

"The other issue: contemporary truth, will be equally difficult for vast numbers of

the American political and law enforcement community to accept. For twenty years we

have heard about the "war on drugs". We have faithfully supported financial

allocations of enormous proportions while believing that the war could be won. Not

battles, but the war. We trusted Presidents who told us so and we trusted Police

Chiefs. D.E.A. Directors, F.B.I. Directors, elementary school D.A.R.E. officers, former

First Ladies and Former Drug Addicts; all promised that we could win the war on

drugs. The truth is this : we were never going to win the war on drugs as long as we

allowed the drug's plant to be planted, cultivated, harvested, processed and

distributed from foreign nations. The truth is that a caterpillar won the war for us.

This caterpillar is the hero, Striker said as she hoisted the plate closer towards the

camera. El Diablo, Tasmanian Devil, Final Solution; whatever you prefer to call him, it

is the hero. The United States Government and the Law Enforcement Community of

the United States have had little to do with the eradication of coca."

"In the coming weeks, we will examine the Poppy Plant. This alkaline plant is

quickly filling the vacuum created by our caterpillar friend and the eradication of coca.

Until then, stay tuned for our final episode on the demise of worldwide coca. As soon

as the total eradication is announced by the World Health Organization, we will do

the post mortem. Thanks for watching, this is Ace Striker and you have spent 100

Minutes with Ace Striker !"

Chapter 41. Human Migration.

Buoyed by gasses set free by enzymes contained within decaying carcasses, two

hundred thousand bodies floated as far as the eye could see. In the early morning mist

that rose like steam escaping from boiling water, five thousand Mexicans peered

down from machine gun nests which were cut into the Northern hillside of the

Panama Canal Like ancient Knights and archers guarding a castle's moat, these men -

with bullets - guarded the Panama Canal.

Once guarded by U.S. and Panamanian soldiers for its intrinsic and strategic Naval

importance, the Panama Canal no longer served that purpose. Dedicated Atlantic and

Pacific Fleets, coupled with the enormous draft of modern Naval Vessels, had made

the Canal obsolete. Obsolete as a means of strategic Naval significance.

Today, the Canal served as a Feudal Moat. Later, the Canal would protect the

North American Castles of the United States and Canada. Today, the Moat protected

Mexico. Over the two chaotic years of the eradication of coca, peasants from a

continent were leaving the farm. Like the Dustbowl Days of our Great Depression,

peasants embarked on a great migration. This time, they headed North. Fourteen

months ago, Mexico proclaimed the crisis and built its Wall. Undeterred, the

"Southerners" tunneled under, floated around and stormed the Wall.

South America was almost sterile. It was certainly bankrupt. Its people

constituted a mass of humanity which assumed a new name with one direction. They

were the mob and they were heading North.

As Mexico realized the threat, and its inability to hold back the masses at her

borders, she sought and received approval from Panama and the O.A.S. to man and

defend the Panama Canal. The world's largest Moat.

The Panama Canal was unlike the Rio Grande. It could not be waded and its

waters contained the voracious Pirhanna fish. As wave upon wave of starving peasants

entered the Canal; on logs and debris, oil drums and inner-tubes, the Mexican

Machinegunners would open fire. Screams and shrill voices, all communicated in one

common language - Espanol - would break the silence as bleeding bodies splashed into

the waters of the Panama Canal. To the extent that the emaciated bodies testified to

the barren fields of South America, the engorged bodies of the Pirhanna fish gave

testimony to their bounty. Each day's two hundred thousand bodies would be

devoured in a day and replaced the following day by another wave of humanity from

the South.

An examination of the hundreds of thousands of spent machine gun cartridge cases

testified to their United States manufacture. Fear gripped the Northern people and

their governments. Man's inhumanity to man played itself out upon the waters of the

giant moat. A strange irony prevailed. Walter Reed had found the inoculation for the

mosquito so that the Canal could be completed. The United States government knew,

at the turn of the century, of the Canal's strategic importance. That old function

having been eclipsed, it now served a new function by virtue of its feudal means. Coca

and its extermination had come to this. Primitive, Siege warfare where a continent of

primitive humanity threatened - by its very numbers - a continent dominated by the

industrialized nations. The disparity met on the banks of a man-made Canal.

Like earlier encounters of disparate groups, European Man and American Indians,

the more technologically advanced society possessed every advantage. In the United

States, hemorrhage greater than that provoked by the Vietnam War poured out. The

southern tier of states were most vocal. A Great Wall along the Rio Grande was built.

Mexico applied for statehood. Protesters decried the manufacture of machine gun

bullets. Canadians of conscience protested foreign aid to Mexico, calling it blood

money. Humanitarians, while decrying the defense of the Panama Canal, failed to offer

viable alternatives for the placement of millions. Central American countries were

ruled by mobs and anarchy.

In the United States, theologians examined Revelation and other books of the

Bible to support their claim that South American peasants, governments and criminals

were receiving punishment from God for providing poison - in the form of coca and

cocaine - to the world. Many believed that judgment day was near.

The activities occurring at the Panama Canal gave new meaning to the term :the

Killing Fields. Still the masses advanced. They had nowhere else to go.

Chapter 42. Epilogue

Crain's deeds had rearranged the world. Long before the total eradication of coca,

he had looked ahead and seen what bad this good would bring. He knew of the

designer drugs. How laboratory chemists could mimic the active ingredients of

stimulants and depressants, sedatives and hypnotics, like lysergic acid diethylamide

(LSD-25), in a test tube. By eradicating the plant coca, the brain receptors in all the

former crack/cocaine users remained to crave. Does the brain receptor care from

whence the active ingredient springs forth ? Test tube or leaf, no difference.

Crain sat silently, pensive. It would be the industrialized world, he thought, that

would have to produce the massive amounts of ingredients, in 55 gallon drums, that

clandestine laboratory chemists would need to acquire in order to mix their coca-

mimicking potion. This would necessarily raise flags which gave authorities leads for

locating the labs. And, Crain thought, chemists never make anything as good as

mother nature. Customers will not be satisfied. Users will become abusers. Users will

O.D. Like the soft drink, they will want the “real thing.”

A smile spread across Crain's face. The “real thing.” There would never be the “real

thing” again. From now on, it would have to be, the “next best thing.” No more “real

thing.” The silence was broken by the ringing doorbell. Crain checked the security

cameras and saw a solitary child standing at his door, holding something red. He used

the intercom and asked, "hello, can I help you?" The child, a girl, responded "I am

going through the neighborhood and I'm selling poppies for the American Legion

Auxiliary. They’re $1.00 each and you can twist the wire through your buttonhole Mr.

Crain !*

Poppies, thought Crain. A smile spread across Crain's face. As he envisioned

once fertile mountainsides, green with ripe coca plants though now barren, eroded and

gray; the colors in his mind changed and shifted to a sight of fields of red, red poppies.

Waving on terraced hillsides in Myanmar, Thailand and Cambodia. Fat pods borne

aloft on green stems, oozing with the black opiates set free by the knives of the

tending, harvesting peasant farmers. Crain smiled and called Sythe, "Sythe, does the

poppy have a natural enemy ?"