Gabriele André & Wolfgang André

OPPORTUNITY

The power of resistance

Gabriele André

The woman with a sense

of adventures!

Wolfgang André

The man with the visual ideas

of the characters!

Claudia Kohlbauer

The woman with that special

something!

«OPPORTUNITY»

THE POWER OF RESISTANCE

BAND – I(English Version)

Claudia Kohlbauer

Adventure Novel

Gabriele & Wolfgang André

THE INSEPARABLE

Adventure Trilogy

BAND – I

OPPORTUNITY

– The power of resistane

BAND – II

SOLANACEE

– Murderouse Session

BAND – III

KÉPI BLANC

– Bloodtrail

Dedication -

«ORDEM E PROGRESSO»

Prolog

Order and progress is the slogan of Brazil and as a white banner part of the flag of Brazil. The motto derives from the mindset of positivism. The flag of Brazil shows a yellow rhombus on a green background. Initially, the colors do not stand for the green of the vast virgin forests and the country's numerous mineral resources (yellow). Green is instead the color of the House of Braganza, yellow that of the Habsburgs. The blue area in the rhombus represents the sky above Rio de Janeiro on November 15, 1889, at 8:30 a.m., the place and time of the proclamation of the republic.

Good and evil clash massively and take you on an adventurous journey to the contrasting, beautiful Brazil. As fascinating as the country is, its contrasts are equally diverse. Driven by power, greed, envy, hatred, and intrigue, all reasonable means are applied to obtain what is supposedly desired. The motivation to fulfill and receive what is coveted is just as varied as the acquired joy. In the drive to get what is longed for and satisfy wishes far beyond the generally understandable, the acting characters display their ideas, values, needs, power, and desire.

Health, freedom, friendship, and love are our highest goods. Respect and empathy are the keys. The highest good, however, is time. And everyone should use it wisely because we all have a deadly disease from birth, death. The clock is ticking!

Gabriele & Wolfgang André

«TUBARAÓ»

Chapter 1

The full moon dominates this night as a big giant spotlight pointed directly onto the mighty, jet-black Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Brazil. Due to the luminosity, one perceives small bright, sparkling reflections in this night, which by brief flashes arouse the appearance of countless stars dancing. A fantastic scenery if it were not for the complicated job to be done. Appearances are deceptive; everything seems quiet and calm. Underwater, however, at a depth of about 40 meters, near the rugged cliffs of "Queimada Grande," things look different. This forbidden area is as dangerous underwater as it is on land.

The predominantly nocturnal white sharks "Tubaraó", called in Brazilian, are strongly represented here. They do not exactly make the night dive a walk in the park. The authorities prohibit diving and fishing within a one-kilometer radius. Strictly speaking, one is not allowed to approach the snake island "Ilha das Cobras," as the Brazilian press likes to call the island, in this officially prohibited zone. The snake island lies about 33 kilometers south of the Brazilian coast, known for its unspeakably enormous, highly aggressive venomous pit viper population. In addition, the island is a protected nature reserve, and it is only accessible with difficulty due to the rugged coastal cliffs that drop steeply into the sea.

There are no sandy beaches; landings are already tough and dangerous under normal circumstances. Léon is aware of the prohibition, but he has no choice but to take the risk. He has taken on an assignment. Léon has principles, and when he accepts a mission, it is carried out to his client's satisfaction. He is well known for his trustworthiness in the scene for this. For him, however, this is more than an assignment. He is helping an old friend and client. The two have maintained an intimate friendship for several decades.

Léon is a man for the rough, with a tremendously positive reputation and experience for special operations. At 56 years of age, he is still an absolute agile adrenaline junkie who misses almost nothing. He gained his knowledge in the Foreign Legion, which he left honorably as a Sous Lieutenant in 2000 with several awards. His way into the Legion was a way out at that time. Léon does not enjoy looking back to the time after he was falsely accused of murder and got hunted down. He prefers to let time rest and look back only on the skills he has acquired and what he has learned. It was not his best period of life, but the past made him a strong man of integrity with instinct and abilities to constitute specific solutions. The silhouette of the "Tocantins" wreck is already visible in the headlight cone of the shining diving lamps.

Almost to the day 87 years ago, on August 30, 1933, the merchant ship commissioned under the Lloyd Brasileiro shipping company sank off "Queimada Grande" with an incredibly coveted cargo. Since then, it has been lying at a depth of about 25 meters.

Léon and Ronan approach the wreck carefully and attentively. Everything seems calm; only the air bubbles of the open-circuit respiration from the diving tanks attract sporadically curious startled sea creatures. As an experienced master diver, Léon vigilantly controls the surroundings. Something is bothering him.

His gut feeling tells him that something is wrong. Tensely, he observes the surroundings with the shark harpoon. He keeps a careful lookout for nocturnal sharks. There is barely an hour of oxygen left. His buddy Ronan Strike, the tall, muscular experienced combat diver, a highly decorated reserve officer in the U.S. Marines, is sifting through the labeled steel boxes. Léon shows the nonverbal "Okay" sign of the diver communication and aims the diving spotlight by circular movements at the target object's position. Léon has now also seen and confirmed the boxes. Just a few more meters. Done. Léon slowly turns once around his axis. He rechecks the surroundings, swirling up a little mud with his split diving fins. He indicates to Ronan that everything is fine. We are ready to go! Léon gives Ronan the signal to start the underwater operation with his thumbs up. Léon keeps an eye on the surroundings.

He has a clear view. Carefully, Ronan attaches 500 grams of "Semtex" to a box. The plastic explosive sticks well because it is soft and malleable. Meanwhile, Léon continues to observe the surroundings keenly. Ronan is the right man for this work; he is highly conscientious. Just one mistake can be the last. He carries out the task with concentration. Slowly, the first curious white sharks appear. Léon reacts immediately. He promptly signals this using the diver communication, the vertically extended hand in front of the forehead. At the same time, he lights up the shark's route. Ronan nods. Done. The first explosive charge is in place. He presses the wired MK1 detonator with the electric detonator into the plastic explosive to activate the initial spark. He then installs a second explosive charge in a girder immediately next to the steel box. Ronan checks the wiring of the detonators with the electric detonator again; then, he activates the system. The control system of the detonators tells him that the charging energy of the two batteries will last for just under 72 hours. From now on, the red LEDs flash every second. Ready.

Ronan informs Léon by a sign that the explosive charges are activated. Léon confirms. After a quick view at his Leonardo dive computer, he points to the surface to check the remaining breathable air. Slowly, the two of them rise to the surface. Quick as torpedoes, coming out of nowhere, two more great white sharks race towards them. Meanwhile, the dangerous hunters become more curious and reduce their distance. The experienced divers are used to this, but something is different. Léon knows the behavior of the predators very well and knows that if the sharks do not yet point their lateral fins steeply downwards and bend their hulls, there is less danger. He shows his assessment to Ronan using an understandable hand gesture of the diver's communication. Ronan can interpret the sign correctly, nods, and presses his back close to Léon. The well-rehearsed team has enough panoramic vision to avert any unpleasant surprises in this position. Ronan has grabbed his diving knife, and Léon holds the armed harpoon in front of his hull. The two are well-matched. They carefully maintain eye contact with the three sharks. Slowly controlled, under observance of the decompression, the two continue to ascend, soon it is done.

The dangling rope with the buoy of the motorboat is already visible under the moon's radiant glow near the water's surface - only a few more meters. The sharks are still behaving calmly, although their circles around the two are already noticeably tighter.

Léon lets his partner go ahead. Finally, they accomplished. Ronan grabs the rope and heaves himself into the boat, followed by Léon shortly after.

"We're on time," he says, climbing into the boat.

Ronan helps him take off the diving equipment.

"Yes, everything worked flawlessly.

Do you want a beer too?"

"Gladly, I can use it now," Léon replies as he frees himself from the heavy diving tanks.

Ronan hands him an iced can of Heineken. He points to the water. The sharks have followed them and are silently circling the motorboat. Now and then, one can make out the shark fins in the moonlight.

"There are our friends," he says sarcastically.

"Friends? That's a bit of a mouthful," Léon replies, toasting Ronan. After a big gulp, they put the cans down and take care of the equipment.

After a glance at the clock, Ronan asks,

"Léon, are you ready? Can we go?"

"Yes, all right, we can!" says Léon.

Ronan starts and switches on the windlass to haul in the anchor. The windlass is working at full power. Abruptly, the rattling of the retrieved anchor chain is interrupted. It is stuck. Ronan releases part of the chain back into the water and starts another attempt. Nothing, no movement whatsoever, only the winch motor is struggling enormously. A repeated attempt also fails. The anchor is extremely stuck. The motor of the winch sounds again with a plagued noise. Léon spontaneously reaches for the switch. He immediately turns off the winch motor. Thoughtfully, he looks at Ronan.

"I'm going back down; something's wrong here!"

In one go, he finishes the beer can, puts on only the diving tanks with the mask, and steps into the fins. After reaching for the shark harpoon, he jumps into the water between the circling sharks. As if they were not even there, Léon pulls himself into the depths by the anchor chain. Shortly before the sighted anchor, he quickly recognizes the problem: the chain has become tangled on a steel girder.

He begins to untangle the chain. While untangling, Léon perceives that one of the sharks has followed him and has taken a tense posture. He hastily detaches the anchor chain from the steel girder, trying to keep an eye on the shark. The shark continues to make its rounds. The distance increasingly minimizes.

The surrounding circles become smaller and smaller. The very moment the chain detaches from the girder, the shark attacks with lightning speed at tremendous speed. Léon grabs the loosened anchor chain at the last moment, just in time. He can stretch just under a meter of the massive chain protectively in front of his body to hold it in front of the shark's wide-open mouth. The powerful bite is so brute that it is even audible underwater. Impetuously, the shark bites into the chain so that some of its teeth break out.

Razor-sharp teeth splinter into Léon's face, and he quickly backs away. Knowing that the next attack does not take long, he grabs the harpoon in a flash, takes aim, and shoots the shark directly in the eye. Mortally wounded, the great white rolls around its axis a few times, then slowly sinks to the bottom of the sea. As swift as an arrow, the other two great white sharks aggressively attack their conspecific. Starved, they tear the adult great white shark apart. Unbridled, they shred large parts from it. An unrestrained regular fight for food, a genuine bloodlust, takes place. Even during the surfacing, the number of sharks increases enormously. Léon hastily pulls himself up on the anchor line, always with a brief look back at the number of rapidly forming sharks. Such spontaneous aggression has never happened to him before.

Finally, back on the surface, he pulls himself swiftly aboard with Ronan's help. Exhausted, he unloads the diving equipment.

"The anchor is free! The sharks are busy

with the big meal! Shit, that was close!"

"Did they cause any problems?" asks Ronan, after noting that Léon appeared exhausted, completely breathless.

Léon grabs a bath towel, slightly shaky.

"You could say that, give me another beer!

Our friend already had me on his menu.

Then he took a little iron to himself, and I could

protect myself with the anchor chain. That was close;

I harpooned him!"

He takes the equipment from him and takes care of it. Ronan notices that an arrow is missing from the harpoon. He reloads, places it within reach, and tosses him a beer can.

"Who is our client, anyway?" he asks curiously as the exhausted Léon opens his beer.

After a big gulp, Léon replies,

"Dr. Will Boomer, he is an excellent friend!

You're going to meet him tomorrow; he's a great guy

and an outstanding scientist."

"All right, that's all I wanted to know," Ronan says, hauling in the free anchor.

The Atlantic has an almost ghostly appearance. It is silently calm and quiet on the surface, only light breezes with the smell of salt spread out occasionally. No one suspects what is happening underwater. That night, all that remains audible is the babbling and gurgling of the inboard engine.

The rhythmic red flashing of the initial electric detonators at a depth of about 25 meters is visible from the boat. Knowing that he was damn lucky, he says sarcastically,

"I should start thinking about retirement!"

Ronan looks at him, puzzled. The two of them start laughing loudly. The V8 Mercury engine babbles and bubbles. Then they toast each other with their motto:

"Whoever fights can lose;

whoever doesn't fight has already lost!"

After completing their mission on this breathtakingly beautiful moonlit night, the two make their way back. Léon turns the throttle; they leave "Queimada Grande" at full speed with their fast motor yacht.

«PRIVAT STUDIO»

Chapter 2

In the European time zone, at the exact moment, the rain sets in in the 16th arrondissement of Paris on this early March day. The morning rain pours down in streams. The heavy precipitation has awakened Dr. Stanley Auburn, an archaeologist of integrity, in his penthouse. The man in his mid-forties sleepily glances at his watch. It shows it is 6:15 a.m. He puts on his soft brown bathrobe, opens the terrace door, and looks down on Rue Benjamin Franklin in the noble Passy district. The air is cool.

Stanley loves rain. To refresh himself briefly, he remains standing in it. Excellent, he thinks, a natural refreshment after the long night. The precipitation gradually turns into a drizzle. He rubs down his wet, slightly curly hair in the bathroom and runs a relaxing bath with eucalyptus back in the apartment. He loves this kind of bath. He hangs the damp bathrobe over the heated towel rail. Still slightly tired from yesterday's Limes Congress in Vienna, he sets up a coffee with his old aluminum Moka pot.

The Congress was highly successful. Stanley met and immediately gained another sponsor and client for his upcoming African expedition. This archaeology Congress is primarily concerned with provincial Roman archaeology. Where archaeologists from all over the world, natural scientists, ancient historians, building researchers, and interested clients meet, Stanley loves his work. It fulfills him. He is well-read. Well-liked by his colleagues, he is considered highly dedicated and competent. Archaeology has always been his passion. He researched from early childhood and showed a passionate interest in the cultural development of humankind. His parents realized the dream. He still has a lot planned. Achieving his goals is such a top priority that he amicably broke up with his longtime girlfriend before Congress. He is just as uncomfortable with this as Corina is. Stanley has enormous fears of commitment.

However, despite everything, he misses Corina very much. She is a loyal soul, a great woman. Stanley knows that she loves him madly and that she has a desire for family. The pretty, sophisticated Corina Brandt comes from Germany. She has been successfully doing investigative journalism for years. In the past few years, she even cooperated with the FBI several times on assignment. She is well known and sought-after in her industry. While the chocolaty, nutty aroma of the imported Brazilian coffee Caboclo spreads, Stanley walks into his studio and starts up the two computers. Finally, the coffee is ready. Black without sugar, he pours it. After the first sip, he speaks to himself,

"That's a coffee, lovely.

I really need to stock up for Africa."

Every month, he always orders the same coffee on the Internet. To make sure he does not forget, he quickly rushes to his studio, dressed only in a towel, calls up the Amazon page for his order, and places it. Then he pours himself some more coffee and takes it into the bathroom; finally, the long-awaited relaxation. He gets into the tub, the scent of eucalyptus spreads. He leans back calmly, takes a sip of the coffee, and enjoys. In his mind, he once again reviews the focal points of Congress. With joy, he thinks about the upcoming expedition in Africa. In two weeks, it is time.

He knows that this adventurous journey can last longer than half a year. In this regard, he thinks he has made the only right decision to separate from Corina. He loves her very much. However, he wants to further his career and not stand in the way of her happiness. It is a massive lifespan that one invests in many things, and one should not steal it from another person if one disagrees with oneself about where the journey is going. Wistfully he thinks, maybe after the expedition, everything will be different, and he also desires to become more down to earth. At least the chance exists, he is sure. The decision was indeed not easy for him. Stanley has a strong sense of responsibility and does not want to harm anyone.

Because what if something goes wrong? Expeditions are always dangerous, especially this specific one, in the middle of the jungle. Stanley is less afraid. He is well-trained. After studying in America, he enlisted in the Navy SEALs for two years. He would not want to miss the training. It benefits him time and again. But he is aware that there is always an incalculable residual risk in such adventures. He would not want to make Corina a widow in the prime of her life, at the age of 28. His mind is made up; he is sure.

"Better a terrible end than unending terror," he whispers to himself as he soaps himself up.

Stanley washes off, leans back for a few more minutes, and slowly drinks his coffee. The self-reflection in the relaxing bath does him good. Refreshed and with a new sense of well-being, he steps out of the tub. After his morning shave, he heads to the kitchen and pours himself another cup of coffee. Today, he has no appointments during the day and can continue working on one of his coveted textbooks. An appointment, a long-planned dinner at the "Lapérouse," with his best friend DDr. Werner Wideschy, is scheduled in the evening. Stanley is already looking forward to it. While he is still going through everything in his mind, he hears the signal of an e-mail message. Stanley walks to his studio, sits down at the computer, and checks the e-mails.

A message from Dr. Will Boomer, he writes:

"Hello, you go-getter, I heard the Congress was quite a success, and you shined, as usual, colleagues informed me. Congratulations. I am on the road with my new machine. I got the registration two days ago. When I finish my work in Brazil, I will fly to Los Angeles next weekend. Our office is ready. I have signed the lease for five years for the time being. An extension is possible at any time. I think you will then decide this for yourself. I look forward to our time together when we see each other in LA. after your expedition to Africa. Keep me posted. All the best, your friend and partner, best regards, Will."

Stanley is very pleased about the kind lines. He responds with the euphoric feeling of having made the right decision for his upcoming path.

«SIRIUS AVION»

Chapter 3

The new sports aircraft, Sirius Avion 3000 TL RDJ267, quietly pushes through the clouds. The powerful midday sun stands high on the horizon. In the glaring backlight flies a young magnificent Andean condor. A species of birds that belongs to the New World vultures. The potent scavenger really enjoys gliding majestically through the clear blue sky towards the sun. It dominantly shows off its approximately three-meter wingspan. One has the impression it relishes the acquired freedom by the prohibition of hunting and feels visibly well. That was not always the case.

Intensive hunting by the Spanish Conquista reduced its population to such an extent that this species faced extinction. Brazilians like to symbolize it as the heraldic bird of some South American states. Unrestrained and free, the blackbird of prey makes its rounds. Not even the descent of the Sirius Avion 3000 TL RDJ267 impresses the mighty Andean condor.

After flying his new seaplane through the vertical low-lying white clouds, 60-year-old Dr. Will Boomer glides calmly and steadily along the Brazilian coast in clear visibility. It seems as if the Andean condor accompanies him. An excellent presentation that Dr. Boomer does not want to miss. He immediately takes a few photos with the onboard camera. A fantastic opportunity to test the new technology, he thinks. The 4K resolution produces beautiful images. He is thrilled. The photos are so perfect that they create the impression one is flying next to the bird at one meter. After a few successful shots, the bird of prey turns away. Dr. Boomer grins. As a scientist, he has experienced some adventures and seen many things in his long career, but this event is unique for him. He loves birds. Ornithology was his principal subject for several years. Wistfully, he thinks of beautiful past times.

He was particularly interested in ornithology and the protection of species. He led an exciting life for science, and now almost at the end of his professional career, he must make such a decision. He is not entirely comfortable with this, but he believes he is doing the right thing. At least his experienced colleague Prof. Dr. Hari Acharaya shares his opinion. After a lengthy examination of all possible options, the two agreed to take the right path. He hopes to have made the right decision.

This morning, the flight offers a beautiful view of the impressions of the Brazilian coast, the Copacabana, the Ipanema, up to the coastal city of Caraguatatuba, due to the excellent visibility. Even the Brazilian relief "Serra do Mar," which stretches for about 1500 km along the east-south coast, can be seen. This area is one of the most geologically valuable sections in the naturally protected regions of the Atlantic Forest because of its fauna and flora. The excellent weather conditions allow an unrestricted view of the "Dedo de Deus," the finger of God. Dr. Boomer is impressed and again takes some snapshots using the onboard camera.

The mighty peak of the 1692-meter-high mountain massif, whose outline resembles a hand pointing to the sky with its index finger, is a genuinely picturesque motif. It is rare to get such pictures of geological monuments in front of the lens. He is thrilled and impressed. This modern technology fascinates him. Everything is so clear and works via touchscreen. He did not expect these kinds of shots on this day. Satisfied, he treats himself to a can of cold fresh lemon tea and enjoys the flight.

The idyll is interrupted by the acoustic GPS signal when the aircraft is only 30 miles from its destination. Dr. Boomer enters the coordinates, controls the data on the advanced avionics display, and activates the autopilot. After the check, the aircraft enters a stable descent to a constant altitude of 1000 meters. As agreed, he sends Léon a WhatsApp message to inform him of his imminent landing at Base Aérea de Santos Airport. The two have arranged a meeting. He hopes that everything went correctly and according to plan.

He then reaches for the radio to request permission to land at Airport de Santos.

"Tower Santos, Sirius RJD267,

request permission to land. Over."

"Sirius RJD267, I have you on screen,

cleared to land on Runway 35 Alfa,

approach northwest, wind 300/3 knots,

QNH 1019, parking at position 13," the air traffic controller replies friendly.

Dr. Boomer repeats, acknowledges, and initiates the landing approach with the coordinates provided. The conditions are fabulous, with good visibility, a dry runway, and no wind. Under these conditions, the plane hovers toward the runway. Impressed and without any problems, he lands the plane perfectly precisely at the small airport.

«CAMINHÃO TANQUE»

Chapter 4

Caminhão Tanque, the tanker, already stands ready on the runway, waiting for the arrival of the registered aircraft. Beró, the driver, is a very attentive serviceman. His well-known, friendly demeanor makes him very popular among pilots. Despite his southern mentality, customers trust his services. Béro counts as very conscientious and reliable. His diligence and work ethic reflect themselves in the care he takes of his truck. Such a well-maintained vehicle one sees relatively rarely in these regions. Béro is somewhat of an institution at Base Aérea de Santos Airport, having worked here since its official opening on July 20, 1960.

The airport serves primarily as a stopover for overnight refueling of chartered aircraft. Due to the short runway of the small airports and the accompanying weight restrictions, many destinations have not been approached non-stop with the maximum allowable amount of fuel. Many planes need the airport for a stopover for a necessary refueling stop. Béro has many customers. His fame reaches all the way to the rainforest. It is his life, and the customers are very satisfied. He is a trained, gifted mechanic that people trust.

The reputation of his reliability precedes him. He cannot take many jokes from his helpers when repairing and servicing aircraft. He knows that human failure is a significant cause of airplane crashes, and they start with service. He has not been involved in any accidents since he started the job. Another reason he enjoys prestige and respect among his pilots is that they trust his control and work attitude. On this beautiful weekday, Thursday, March 05, 2020, the airport is bustling with activity. Béro has his hands full. Planes take off and land almost every hour. Additionally, he has received a new employee who has just completed his training, is starting his probationary period, and must manage his first work assignment independently today. Béro does not find him very likable; he cannot get much out of him.

He does not understand the airport management to take in such an annoying know-it-all. But he has had to put up with the inclusion of this bloke by order. Now he watches his back and waits to see what else the creep will do. The addition of personnel is not within his authority, but he has a clear say in hiring permanent staff. In this regard, due to his negative gut feeling, he casts a particular eye on this suspicious oddball.

Dr. Boomer rolls his machine toward parking position 13 as instructed. Léon and Ronan have also arrived and formed a small welcoming committee; they wave to the proud pilot. After the machine is adequately parked, Dr. Boomer turns off the engine and steps out of the cockpit, pleased and in a good mood.

Béro has already positioned his truck to refuel. He gets out and greets.

"Olá Senhor. (Hello, sir) It's good to see you again.

Fill up?"

Dr. Boomer shakes Béro's hand and hands him his tip.

"Olá (hello), my dear, yes, fill it up.

I'm just as happy! How is your grandson, Carlo?"

"He's growing and growing.

Needs new soccer shoes almost every month.

I think he's going to be a great player.

When I retire, he may already be playing in the Seleção.

It's his dream to play in the national team.

Obrigado. With the dica (tip), I'll buy Carlo new shoes," Béro replies gratefully and gets to work.

Dr. Boomer smiles. While patting his shoulder, he wishes Béro furthermore all the best with his grandson. Then he heads over to his friend Léon.

There is great joy because the whole mission has happened via e-mail and WhatsApp, and he has not met Léon in person for a while. After a big hug, Léon introduces his new diving partner, Ronan. Dr. Boomer shakes his hand.

"I understand you're very well-trained for special

assignments. Pleased to meet you. I'm Will."

Ronan responds sympathetically with a firm handshake.

"Okay. Ronan. It's an honor to work on your team.

Everything got done as instructed."

Meanwhile, Léon wedges the wheels of the landing gear. Dr. Boomer quickly presses the red "Serviço" button on the hangar door. He also wants to use the shortstop for an engine oil check. The three wait next to the machine for the serviceman. Meanwhile, Dr. Boomer tells Léon about his new office in Los Angeles while Ronan examines the machine. The southern mentality is well known for the fact that everything takes a little longer. Meanwhile, the sun heats the asphalt that one can feel the heat even through the thin soles of the espadrilles. The three of them take advantage of the provided shadow of the wing and wait, wait, wait and wait… 

«SANTOS AIRPORT»

Chapter 5

Amadé Lefévre, the malicious, 35-year-old, unkempt French mechanic, finally makes his way to the hangar. His dragging gait seems listless in the heat shimmer of the heated asphalt of the runway. He repeatedly wipes his oil-smeared hands on the greasy, dirty overall and runs them through his hair a few times with a sarcastic smile. The gloss comes more from the engine oil than from the pomade. Enthusiastically, he insists on a handshake, cheekily grinning as he extends his filthy hand in greeting. Dr. Boomer negates the absolute rude request of the demanded handshake. He is astonished by this repulsive obtrusiveness. Léon and Ronan look at each other speechlessly.

Piqued, smug, Amadé withdraws his hand.

"Olá Senhor, I am Amadé o novo (the new one)!

Some know me, others can get lost!"

Then he laughs maliciously. Friendly but determined, Dr. Boomer replies,

"Good afternoon, my dear.

I'm not searching for friends. I already have them.

I just want to refuel and do an oil check.

Please work carefully. The machine is brand new!"

Amadé reacts disgruntled.

"Oh Senhor, I see:

I'm just a mechanic, compreendido (understood).

What can I do for the noble gentleman, per favor?"

Shaking their heads, the three of them head into the direction of the restaurant.

Ronan turns around again to look at the serviceman.

"A rare, strange bird!"

Unwilling, hasty, unfocused on the work, Amadé carries out the order irritably and reluctantly.

He incessantly yaps and nags in annoyance. While Béro continues to refuel, Amadé opens the engine compartment. He hurriedly performs the oil level check. Then, annoyed, he fills up a little oil. After that, he closes the oil tank cap so poorly that it gets wedged in a captious slanted position and does not lock properly. In a bad mood, Amadé once again wipes the oil tank cap, which has not been closed regularly, with his dirty, tattered rag. Then he closes the engine compartment. After Béro has finished refueling, he climbs into his truck. He did not miss Amadé's verbal behavior during the execution of the work. Reserved, angry at heart at the behavior displayed, Béro starts his truck. Just as he starts to move the vehicle, which weighs several tons, Amadé casually jumps up onto the tanker's boarding aid and holds on to the open side window of the passenger door. He thinks he has found an ally in Béro and makes fun of the clientele with snide remarks in his naivety.

"Vamos (Let's see), I'm curious how much dica (tip)

this pompous idiota (asshole, idiot) will give."

Beró pulls himself together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Amadé with a contemptuous look.

"Good Brazilian Reals is earned by work and kindness.

But with you, it must be the lack of both that makes you

unbalanced?"

After Béro has spoken this, he spontaneously steps directly into the brakes at the height of the restaurant, without applying the engine brake. Due to the abrupt stop, Amadé visibly struggles not to be thrown off the boarding aid.

Béro refrains from laughing.

"I think you should take a break after those efforts.

Treat yourself to something cool!"

Amadé casually jumps off the boarding aid.

"Vamos (Let's see), maybe these fucking Yankees

are going to buy me a drink."

Then he walks into the restaurant. Beró has gotten his impression of this pushy, slick suck-up. He is glad to be rid of him and continues his ride, shaking his head.

«GAIOLA DE PÁSSARO»

Chapter 6

Gaiola de Pássaro, the birdcage, a fitting name for the bistro. Wooden birdcages are placed everywhere. Some hang down from the ceiling; others are decoratively mounted between the windows, at the entrance to the terrace, or above the tables. The most beautiful exotic species of the Atlantic Rainforest are found in them. Above the bar hangs a cage with a tesourão in it, one of the beautiful rare, large, but most aggressive hummingbird species. Toucans decorate the room with their mighty big beak from the order of woodpecker birds and various parrots. The magnificent cockatoos whistle a tune now and then. Coco, the great macaw, even sometimes imitates the garçonete. The swirl of air from the ceiling fan cools pleasantly. The chirping of birds melodically accompanies the lounge music.

Meanwhile, Dr. Boomer makes himself at home on the cooling terrace with his friends. Curious, he asks Léon,

"Were you able to place everything as intended?"

"Yes, everything was attached and activated

according to plan!" replies Ronan.

"There was just a little incident with a shark

that suddenly attacked me," says Léon, who then immediately takes a hearty gulp of beer.

Dr. Boomer hands Léon an envelope.

"The transfer was made yesterday.

Here's a little expense reimbursement!"

"Thanks, Will! Anytime, again, if you need something.

But please give me some lead time, as I won't be

available to you again for another two months.

We're flying to Africa tonight. A new assignment," Léon explains.

While the three are talking, Amadé enters the restaurant. After glancing at their table, he quickly approaches Garçonete Monella to make another crude remark. She is already really annoyed by his stupidity. Shortly after, he walks over to Dr. Boomer's table, grabs a chair, and shamelessly sits down at it. Amadé wordlessly tosses the crumpled service check casually onto Dr. Boomer's coffee cup with a broad cheeky grin. Baffled, Dr. Boomer looks at Amadé.

"So, what is this?"

The beautiful Garçonete Monella just brings the cold beers. Amadé immediately takes one from the tray, drinks from the bottle, wipes his mouth, and moves tactlessly, provocatively close to Dr. Boomer. He stares at him expectantly.

"Meu amigo (my friend).

Your plane is as good as new!

I work perfeito (perfectly)!

Now I'm going to get my dica (tip)."

Ronan frowns angrily at this provocation. He glances fleetingly at Léon and stands up. Standing in front of Amadé, Ronan bends down to him with a strained expression. Sternly, face to face, he looks him straight in the eye.

"What is your problem?

Is this your kind of customer service?

Apologize now, or I'll give you lessons in manners!

You jerk!"

Amadé quickly realizes there is no fooling around with the well-trained young man. Ronan, the former US Marine. His "Semper Fidelis" tattoo (lat.-always faithful-) is visible to Amadé on his propped up right forearm. He looks at Ronan, grinning briefly, and unabashedly says snidely,

"Meu amigo, (my friend) let's hope your dirty puta (slut)

is always nice and faithful too!"

Léon does not sense anything good. He has known Ronan for a long time. Looking at Dr. Boomer, he hints at what is unpredictable for Amadé and takes a sip of the cold beer. Ronan reacts quickly, grabbing Amadé firmly by the neck with his left hand and smashing his head violently against the table. After the collision, he straightens him up and quietly, grudgingly, makes a statement.

"Sorry, I sometimes can't control myself when I run into

jokers like you. It's due to the regular dysfunction of my

tenuous central nervous system. I am not really me when

I am angry. Moreover, I am single!

Now apologize, you jerk!"

When Monella looks at the table, startled, Ronan immediately lets go of Amadé, straightens him up, and adequately puts him back in the chair. Monella approaches Ronan, who smiles. With a wink, he says,

"Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa,

I reacted too late when the nice man hit his head on

the table in a kind of acute fainting attack.

I tried to prop him up in time, but alas, I was too slow.

Sorry!"

Amadé, meanwhile, holds his bleeding nose, takes the service bill, and hands it to Dr. Boomer with an anxiously friendly scanty.

"Desculpe (excuse me), my fault per favor (please)."

"It's fine," Dr. Boomer replies, acknowledging the crumpled bill.

Léon must pull himself together hard not to laugh suddenly. He prefers to take another sip. The quick-witted Ronan pats Amadé's cheeks again to convince himself that he is already feeling better. He orders another glass of fresh water out of pure courtesy for Amadé. The beautiful Garçonete Monella brings a glass of clear cold water and places it in front of Amadé. She cannot hide her smile either. Dr. Boomer grins as well. Amadé finishes the glass of water in one go, resolutely sets it down audibly at the table, and takes the bill.

He stares at the service bill. With a look of disdain, he stares angrily into the round. He crumples up the bill and throws it to the floor. Ronan stands up. Amadé backs away, hastily leaving the restaurant. Ronan sits down again. He takes his beer and toasts with Léon.

"A real cheeky guy, he's nothing but trouble.

He should disappear."

Dr. Boomer is somehow irritated.

"I don't understand this lad.

The dica (tip) is on the bill, right?"

Monella, meanwhile, brings a fresh cup of hot Brazilian Caboclo coffee.

"Per favor (you're welcome), Doctor, it's on me.

And the amigos are about to get a cold beer."

As she clears the empty glasses, she winks at Ronan.

"It's been a long time. Finally, we got someone

who teach that rude scumbag a lesson.

He's new here, and he thinks he's special."

Ronan smiles. Monella pleases him. She returns with a tray of big "brigadeiros," fresh Brazilian chocolates, a real delicacy. She places it down on the table and says, relieved,

"Obrigado (thank you) for teaching that chap a lesson.

Since he started working here, there's been nothing but

trouble. You have to try these; they're homemade."

Finally, the three got rid of the rarely stupid mechanic. They continue to exchange information while enjoying eating the national sweet specialties. Around 3 p.m., Dr. Boomer glances at his watch.

"My friends, it has been a pleasure, but it is time.

I have a long flight ahead of me. Thank you for everything.

We will keep in touch. Leon, I will call you.

By the way, Stanley sends you his regards."

Léon thanks him, he hugs him goodbye and wishes all the best for the further course of his project. Ronan says goodbye with a firm handshake. The two then leave the restaurant. Dr. Boomer pays. Monella thanks him for the generous tip.

"Obrigado (thank you). It was nice to have you with us.

See you next time. All the best!"

Dr. Boomer leaves the restaurant. Relaxed, he heads for his machine. After the external check, he starts the engine. He gets out of the cockpit again to check the wiring of the external camera. While the propeller is running, Amadé hurries across the runway to the parked plane.

He hurriedly calls out to Dr. Boomer,

"Olá Senhor, I would like to fly with you.

I have to go to Rio!"

Surprised, Dr. Boomer looks up, nicely responding,

"Sorry, I'm not going to fly to Rio!"

Amadé thinks about it. He does not give in.

"Compreendido (Understood), I don't care either,

just take me with you. Do you have something planned?

What do you do for a living? I can use some Brazilian reais

well, meu amigo (my friend)!"

Angry about the intrusiveness and already very annoyed, Dr. Boomer replies energetically,

"I am not your friend! I'm busy.

I'm flying over Queimada Grande to study the population

of the poisonous pit viper. I don't have time, and I'm not

taking you with me. Compreendido (Understood)?

Now get lost, and don't bother me any further!"

Amadé takes a step back, makes a derogatory movement with his hands, spits on the floor, and leaves.

Angrily, he calls out,

"Compreendido, compreendido (understood).

You idiota, you bunda (ass)!"

Dr. Boomer ignores the reaction and abuse and continues to perform the final check. Then he climbs back into the cockpit. Ready for takeoff, the aircraft taxis to the runway, stops and waits for takeoff clearance.

Amadé looks after the machine angrily and continues muttering to himself. Upset, he walks to the service hangar. Beró is on break, sitting on a toolbox smoking his pipe. He notices that something is wrong with Amadé again. Amadé hectically clears out his locker. Béro watches him. He takes the service booklets and throws them to the floor in a rage.

As he passes Beró, he just comments snidely,

"Olá (hello), meu amigo (my friend), tell the boss

he needs a new mechanic!"

He quickly washes his hands with handwashing paste in the sink. Afterward, he takes his jacket from the locker and leaves. He leaves his mechanics overall on. Beró looks after him, shaking his head, and takes another big puff on his pipe. After a few puffs, once Amadé has disappeared, he goes into the office, grabs the list of new mechanics from the desk, and crosses Amadé Levéfre out horizontally with a red felt-tip pen.

One could think that this even brings him joy, at least according to his facial expressions. Relieved, he writes a note next to it in red block letters:

PROBATIONARY PERIOD FAILED!

«SPORTCOUPÉ VW SP2»

Chapter 7

The VW SP2 sports car, built-in 1976, is Amadé Levéfre's pride and joy and his only material possession. The car's design looks sleek, fitting his character and type, "more appearance than substance." Because with the whole 64 HP of the more than troubled 1700 cc four-cylinder boxer engine with enormous lack of power, one cannot drive to victory, even if one wants to. Connoisseurs like to jokingly refer to the SP designation in the model's name as "Sem Potência," Brazilian for "without power."