Panga Wars: The Hawk Series Book 4

By Rex Barton

Team Mongoose was in the water. Misty and Red, each were in command of 21-foot Coast Guard Chase craft's, with twin 300 hp outboards, center console drive and a Cal. 50 on the bow. Their job was to intercept the Panga Boats prior to landing. Stop them or sink them, which ever worked. The object, confiscate the drugs and money or send it all to t

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hawk Tales Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Feb 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957220574

Rex Barton

Rex Barton was born June 24, 1944, in Santa Barbara, California, USA. Raised by his loving grandparents on a walnut farm in Ventura, California, he learned to be an avid horseman and care for all animals big and small, from an elephant to a hummingbird.In the summer of 1962, he joined the United States Army and completed his basic and military occupational specialty (MOS) training at Fort Ord Army post on Monterey Bay in California. Subsequently, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany, a cold war zone, and assigned to the 287th Military Police Company as a Military Policeman (MP) for almost five years. The duties were to guard military and civilian train passengers through dangerous zones, conduct routine patrols in the sectors, boat patrol Wannsee Lake and surrounding waterways, and assist with working on cases in the Criminal Investigation Division (CID). His stories are captivating and intense.In March 1967, Rex became a Deputy Sheriff/Deputy Coroner with the Santa Barbara County Sheriff's Department where he served over seven years until he retired in 1974 due to a service-related disability. He worked in numerous divisions, including patrol, detention, courts/civil, juvenile, and investigations. After relocating to the Channel Island area near Ventura, Rex became a licensed, independent Mortgage Broker/Realtor for many years.In 2013, Rex moved with his wife to the Pacific Northwest where he enjoys writing novels in various genres.

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ISBN 978-1-957220-56-7 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-957220-57-4 (digital)

Copyright Rex Barton

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, Or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Hawk Tales Publishing, LLC

www.HawkTalesPublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Prologue

Author Bio

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Prologue

How often does it happen? Murder on the High Seas? Or was it a simple case of mistaken identity? Espionage, drug crimes, money laundering, prostitution, torture, and kidnapping. All of this is happening around the world today and every day. Can you imagine that? It takes place where YOU live? Doesn’t matter your financial or political status. Plays little, on how many children you have if any. No one cares what position or reputation you receive in life. Or your education or job. In your own back yard, this is taking place on an everyday base. Santa Barbara, San Francisco, San Diego, N.Y., Florida, Alaska, across the USA, it all falls out daily. Where YOU live, is not exempt.

Just a few yards offshore, at least once a week are fast, sleek, dangerous boats, called Panga Boats that drop people, drugs, money and murder on your beautiful beaches like my town of Santa Barbara.

Sound creepy or impossible? Make no mistake about it, you are asleep when it occurs. That’s when we were called in. Our City, State, and Country needed our help. Team Mongoose, The Black Ops group, was now part of the solution. We heard, your cries when you called us. And then, no regrets when gangs disappear off of the streets. No mercy, no turning back at this stage until the snakes are shredded and laid bare along the ground or hung up to rot on fence posts. We build no monuments or lay no gravestones. When we catch you Cartel, you will just disappear, as if you were never here.

The Cartels have different names and hold many of your jobs and manipulate many of your financial markets. You see, most Americans have no clue what is happening in their backyards or on their beautiful white sand beaches until you see the blood or feel the bite and then feel the pain. By then it is already too late.

In Santa Barbara, the Home of the Brave and the Beautiful, there are such snakes on the ground and sharks swimming in the sea, both waiting for their opportunity to bite. Both are called ‘The Cartels’. They are extremely lethal. Make no mistake about it, one bite and you could die. Even children were shown no mercy. Money is the goal and power of All you own. Your lives mean nothing to them, they only want all you own.

The Hawk and Team Mongoose were called in to sweep up the muddle that the local gangs and Cartel punks had left in arrears in the aftermath of the Panga wars. Local officials could not handle the crime spree which seemed to run rampant like Bubonic Plague Rats. Their infectious holds and bites were seen everywhere. It was going to get very bloody and many more would die before it was over. Drugs would go down with the ships, like the gold war chests, the pirate’s used centuries ago. The Hawk and his team of professional para-military experts, began cleanup early in the morning of September 1st, 1980’s. The war on drugs has not stopped. Slowed considerably, but as long as corruption at higher levels continues to permeate our societies, and the need for help to cure pain from diseases in young and old alike, the drug wars will continue until another way is born. Greed, Power, Money, Your Land is what they want. Complete control over everything including YOU! From the top, down. The manufactures, pharmaceutical companies, even the local stores are all involved in various ways.

Hawk is not the only hope, but he is the hope of today. Team Mongoose is the only thing standing between You and the Cartels and the gates of HELL.

There is one greater than the Hawk and you don’t need his phone number to find him. All you need do, is get on your knees and pray. God will answer!

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16 (NIV)

Note from the author - Have Faith!

Author Bio

Rex Barton was born June 24, 1944, in Santa Barbara, California, USA. Raised by his loving grandparents on a walnut farm in Ventura, California, he learned to be an avid horseman and care for all animals big and small, from an elephant to a hummingbird.

In the summer of 1962, he joined the United States Army and completed his basic and military occupational specialty (MOS) training at Fort Ord Army post on Monterey Bay in California. Subsequently, he was stationed in Berlin, Germany, a cold war zone, and assigned to the 287th Military Police Company as a Military Policeman (MP) for almost five years. The duties were to guard military and civilian train passengers through dangerous zones, conduct routine patrols in the sectors, boat patrol Wannsee Lake and surrounding waterways, and assist with working on cases in the Criminal Investigation Division (CID). His stories are captivating and intense.

In March 1967, Rex became a Deputy Sheriff/Deputy Coroner with the Santa Barbara County Sheriff’s Department where he served over seven years until he retired in 1974 due to a service-related disability. He worked in numerous divisions, including patrol, detention, courts/civil, juvenile, and investigations. After relocating to the Channel Island area near Ventura, Rex became a licensed, independent Mortgage Broker/Realtor for many years.

In 2013, Rex moved with his wife to the Pacific Northwest where he enjoys writing novels in various genres.

CHAPTER 1

It took nearly three months, working twenty-four hours a day, to finish the Kona Volcano Lab project: installing all of the cameras and sound equipment around the perimeter of the lab, building the housing units, enlarging the community BBQ/patio area, and upgrading the office interiors. We needed our own security offices separate from the newly constructed administration offices. The lab was now ready to hire qualified agents in every category to fill the open slots.

We even managed to secretly double the capacity of the shooting range under the barn floor and install automation to turn the targets or move them closer or farther away. That way everyone had a chance every day to maintain their shooting skills without having to wait very long. Team Mongoose expected every employee to maintain Expert qualification on weekly shoots. Bulls-eye shooting was required with targets at twenty-five and fifty yards. Improvements came by way of time eliminations and accurate reloading techniques. Once in a while we would throw in moving targets of perps and civilians to make practices duplicate real-life situations as closely as possible.

Everyone was issued a cell phone and a satellite phone. Daily uniforms were black military jump boots, black fatigue pants, black tee-shirts, and black overshirts. No signage was permitted except in certain situations regarding military advertising. No face recognition was possible; only the number of combat-ready agents could be known.

We hired a person only after thorough investigation with the FBI, CIA, NCIC, and military records as well as civilian and education checks. This was probably the longest and most tedious part of the increase, because so few people were qualified. We finally found what we were looking for: eight new agents, eight new security guards, three new secretaries, and two new cooks. We even managed to find a fully qualified, bonded and insured cleaning service to help with daily laundry and house cleaning.

Our kitchen had to be expanded to keep up with all the extra mouths Momma Rose and her assistants had to feed.

It seemed overly crowded for awhile until we got used to the extra people milling around. Meanwhile, Roy purchased an additional four hundred acres adjacent to our current property with eyes on further enlarging our available training area; it was mostly dense jungle, which was perfect for our training needs.

By week five the old team eased up a bit and began mingling more with the newer members. We all got to know the security team, and everyone kept a vigilant eye on everyone else. No one was allowed into or out of the lab property without proper identification, finger print scan, and physical recognition. It was a tight ship and one that could not sink. Too many lives were at stake for any errors.

We ran drills to challenge the security system, gaining more knowledge and skill each time. This check-and-double-check was serious stuff, and even with my experience in this business I found the long hours spent learning the requirements very challenging.

If someone had a request for something not on the campus grounds, it would be delivered by the next day in most cases. Unless it was pizza; those came on a daily basis. Even though all deliveries were turned over to the guards inside the compound gate, that was probably our weakest entry point.

Leaves and passes were authorized only after a background check was completed. If you were new, you were stuck at the lab campus for eight weeks minimum. Only after completing our rigorous training programs could that even be possible.

Our training was easier than Navy Seal training, but not by much. Most of the new team members were already either Seal-trained or Ranger-trained. All had gone through police and FBI academies and were cross-trained in more than one discipline. We even managed to find a replacement for Josh: an ex-military explosives expert and sharpshooter named Lee Weathers. He was a good man in his late twenties, six-feet-four-inches tall and weighing two-hundred-twenty pounds, and Sissy fell in love with him the first time she saw him. Keeping them separated was going to be a problem

I felt lucky to have Lee, a survivalist and rock climber who really loved the outdoors. He managed to train a couple of the new team members to climb and repel better on our beach cliffs. Time and various operations would help lock in complete trust; we tried to instill that in our training models, but trust always took longer.

One day we got a call from Erin at Corporate telling us that Bill and Roy were on their way to the islands and needed to be picked up at the airport. I sent John, Misty, and one of our new security men. As always, the detail included two additional security guards in a second vehicle totally equipped for any situation. I’m sure that, even though the civilians knew most of us who worked at the lab and often saw our vehicles and logos, they must have found it a little curious having armed guards trailing us now. Or maybe they were just so used to us always being in town that no one really noticed.

I stayed on base to make preparations for Bill and Roy’s visit. I hadn’t been told how long they were going to stay, so I called Erin and had a nice chat with her about upcoming events. She brought me up to speed on the reason for the personal visit and swore me to secrecy on the threat of my life. I agreed and was honored that she even cared that much.

I had never really figured Erin out. I guess when you don’t have a lot of interaction with someone you can’t possibly know what makes them tick, and I’d had very little interaction with Erin. I couldn’t even tell you what color her hair really was, because she was always changing it.

Oh, well. Some things are meant to be brewed over time, and I wasn’t in a hurry. I told her once that she looked better in the Dark Ruby Red hair color. Wicked it was; very wicked and intriguing. After that, I’d open each phone conversation by asking what color her hair was today, and her laugh got every conversation off to a friendly start.

In fact, I didn’t even know if Erin was her real name. Funny thing: every time I saw her, she was dressed nicely with nothing exposed that would draw attention to her. She must have come from a good spy background. You just never knew what was going on inside her brain, but I learned early on that she was always ten steps ahead of everyone else.

If Bill and Roy were wrong about her, I just let her be their problem.

I had Randy and Lani bring Annie to the lab and was able to give them all a little nickel tour of all the new changes. Annie was pretty much up to speed on everything, but she was thrilled to see all the new improvements since we’d returned to our home.

Things had slowed down on the cartel gang problems. Five-O had made a few raids on Oahu and in Kona, rounding up eighteen more perps. On one raid they’d had a shoot-out with three gang members who didn’t make the roster of the living; those three missed the go-to-jail squad.

Bill and Roy arrived at the lab at 1400 hours and were very impressed by the new security system. Like I always said, money always works. Throw a little here and a little there and before long you have an island in the center of an island. We still had some vulnerability issues, but not like before.

After the grand tour, I sat Bill and Roy down at the meeting room conference table to discuss all the issues and the reason for the surprise visit. Bill said he wanted to learn firsthand how the new security system worked and meet the new team members, and he said he’d always loved Momma Rose’s cooking. Roy agreed.

The first point of business was Jake. Two weeks after his admission to the hospital, it had been felt that he’d receive better care at UCLA Medical Center. Arrangements had been made, and he’d been transported in Bill’s personal jet along with his wife Melody and their baby boy.

Jake was now getting better by the day. It was not certain that he’d ever recover completely enough to return to duty, but that was still good news. He had a long time of tough rehab ahead, but Jake was tough and willing to do whatever it took to get back what the cartel had tried to steal.

I had promised Jake that I’d do whatever was possible to get him back to the lab. The least I could do would be to make him the ava training guard. He could lead all of it even in a reduced physical capacity. If he had to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, that would be a reminder to us all to keep fighting and never give up. We’d see that all the training went for something that all of us and America could be proud of. Bill encouraged me to stay in contact with Jake and Melody as that was very welcome news to them.

Our next topic was information and a tour of the proposed new addition. We toured the four-hundred-plus acres and figured it would be a very good addition. Bill and Roy were prepared to sign all the remaining documents while they were there and to call the security company to enclose the area with additional electrical fencing and to set up cameras and wire for sound. It would all be tied to our new system within a month.

As our last bit of business before dinner, Bill said they had received a call from the Santa Barbara Sheriff’s Department regarding our team coming back to Santa Barbara to break the jaws of the cartel.

His words, Bill said.

Apparently the torrent of gang activity, drugs flowing on the streets of town, and the Panga boat drops were now almost a daily activity. The Sheriff had requested that I personally lead a team in thwarting the cartel’s choke hold.

I had heard the chatter before. The problem was whether or not I was ready to meet and confront the SOB who had sold me out for all the wrong political reasons. I was almost tempted to say no and wait another year for a new Sheriff to replace him. But I also knew the trouble the drugs were causing on the streets. Kids were dying from bad dope supplied by either the Panga Regatta or the makeshift home drug labs that were springing up everywhere. Business was good for those willing to sacrifice it all for promises of lots of money and free drugs. Too many people were dying in their own neighborhoods. It was an all-out epidemic.

Hawk, Roy asked me, how stiff are you going to be on the Sheriff? How much do you really want to protect your home turf? No matter where you live in this world, Santa Barbara will always be your home.

After a pause he added, You’re here because we believe in you and the good you bring to all. Don’t place boundaries on the mission due to personality clashes. We know the Sheriff was wrong in doing what he did, but at some point we all weaken under public pressure. You know that. The Sheriff was a weak bastard caught up in the cross-hairs of public and political deception.

I nodded in silence.

You’ve got to let it go, Hawk. That’s all old news and not worth thinking about.

Yes, sir, I replied. I know that. But my main concern is what Humpty Dumpty will do to stop us at every turn. How free are we going to be in gaining control of this drug war? And what is he willing to give or pay for the job?

You let me take care of all your questions, Roy said. The county is not willing to pay top dollar, but we have other interested parties that are willing and can pay to make Santa Barbara a safer place to live and continue the tourism trade.

Roy was in full lecturer mode now.

As you well know, Santa Barbara is often compared to the Mediterranean with its beauty and charm. Its east-west geography of mountains, sand, and ocean and its location halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco make it an ideal tourist spot. But it’s tarnished, and the city fathers want the tarnish removed. The cartels are bad for business. The Sheriff promised me he would not attempt to stop progress, but we’ll still be accountable to the law. Everything must be legal.

I was angry. I knew what would work and what wouldn’t.

If we commit to this, I said, I want Sheriff Humpty Dumpty’s promise that he stays out of our business. If I need his help, then I’ll call and expect him to deliver. You know this must be a joint effort with every law enforcement team available. Right?

Yes, Hawk. That promise will be in stone.

Bill said to me, Figure out what you’ll need and let us know as soon as possible.

I can tell you right now. This is not new on my radar. We now have three teams and new weapons, but this must be joint with not only Five-O and the Santa Barbara Sheriff’s Office but also the Ventura and San Luis departments along with the FBI, the Coast Guard, and the Harbor Patrol. Hell, I might even need the National Guard to help with street sweeps in the beginning.

I glared at both of them as I shifted into lecturer mode myself.

The drug trade is now being done through middle- and upper-class homes. It’s not just in the boroughs. It’s an epidemic. Politics hasn’t changed in Santa Barbara. If anything, it’s gotten worse. The political parties claim to be fed up, but they’re unwilling to do what needs to be done. They’re keeping law enforcement handcuffed to their system, and it’s not working.

We get it, Hawk, Bill said. But things are about to change. Eyes are being opened, and change is coming.

All right, I said. Say we go on this rodeo ride. Are you aware that the cartels are using submarines to monitor the Panga parties or their escapes and that they have the weaponry to cripple other boats or even blow them out of the water? We could be aboard one of those Coast Guard vessels when it gets torpedoed, and we’d all go down and shake hands with King Neptune. That’s why I need guarantees that they’ll leave the fighting to those of us who know how to do it and have the intel that the Sheriff only dreams about.

Bill said, I hear you. I’ll get you all the green lights you want. My strokes are a little different from yours, and they have a little more power in persuading the top to do what it needs to do. This will be going national and international, because the cartel employs key individuals in prime seats and scares many more who don’t want to be on the same float with them when the parade starts. My folks don’t want their pictures taken. You’ll be in control.

Okay. Let’s get to work, then. I’ll give you times, dates, tickets to the event, and a needs list. And, I added with a smile, film rights.

I sat back and relaxed slightly, saying, Thank you for believing in us and adding to our capabilities. You have the best in the world fighting for freedom. Let’s try hard to get Jake back, even if it’s in a training or technical capacity. That is, if Melody’s willing.

She’s onboard, Roy said. She knows Jake and what will make him whole again. This is all he dreams about and is working so hard for.

"Then