Report

The journey started innocently enough with three cyclists loading up in a VW van to head from Denver to the border region of Texas. The place we were headed was Terlingua, the land of three languages. Our mission was spelled out on the back of an old Taco Bell napkin, find the reason Lajitas has an international airport.

The first part of the mission was the most daunting, drive 14+ hours through the night as to arrive in the cover of darkness. With some unplanned delays from some unidentified individuals near Roswell we were able to slide into the CASI site unnoticed by most. We quickly set up camp in order to take our first observation of this international airport. One of the counter intelligence agents was on to us, he strolled into our site and was sizing up our abilities. Finally after shaking him with lies about whiskey, beer, and goats we headed out onto the dusty trail.

After initial observation and getting chased off by a trained pack of javelinas, we decided it would be worth a visit into town to get some more information. Our first visit was to none other that the mayor, Clay Henry. After some coaxing with a bottle of beer, he informed us that who we needed to speak with were the agents operating out of a restaurant in the ghost town. We cased the joint out waundering aimlessly through the adjacent store trying to ditch the officer that was following us. Then in haste we trucked off to a small mexican joint for some food. Upon re-entry to the CASI site we were met by a roving band of bandits handing out malted beverages. We of course took said beverages for further investigation.



After a resting sleep in gale force winds we awoke to a new day. In order to remain under cover we donned our racing attire and lined up for the start. Because as agents who are not failures we thought in necessary not to have derailuers. Two of us would only take one pass by the airport, while the other would get to view it twice.

All went well in the races with us all finishing and able to take up our investigation in earnest. Myself and Notorious started early into our collection of beer and trying desperatly to pump the locals for information. All while aka Cellarrat was getting a closer look at the airport, he brought with him a mix of raisins and whiskey to fend off the javelinas. After more milling around partaking in various beverages from the sponsors - Fattire and Titos, we were whisked away by the bandits to the top secret E complex. We were asked to bathe before given information, advice, and beer. We then proceeded with extreme caution to the Starlight with the help from the bandits. During the course of consuming food and agave substances we found out from the woman only known in the agency as Exactly, that we may be on something.

From the Starlight we, under the cover of darkness, headed back to the CASI site. A huge fire was erected where a band was wailing out tunes from the mother land, ja rastafari - let jah arise and let I and I. Exactly's bro was the mandolin player and the pieces were beginning to fall into place. At some point in time fire twirling airport employees were signaling in the great white craft. The great white craft came blazing out of the desert through the dance floor parting the revelers and then disappearing into the darkness. This was the final piece in the puzzle.

After a solid few hours of sleep, the van was loaded for the journey home. Once home we were de-briefed, de-dusted, and de-toxed for whatever the next mission might bring. Final report - the international airport is a front for a man who has too much money and small feet.

Out.