by Lyn Horner
Gabriel wanted to paddle her backside but he couldn’t get to her. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he whistled and signaled for his men to stop firing. They must conserve ammunition, as he sensed Josie was doing, and wait for night when their enemies were bound to attack. Then they would see if the surprise he had in store for them worked. He only prayed his feisty tigresa did not end up dead in the meantime.
The day dragged on with sporadic gunfire from the smugglers. Clearly they, too, waited for darkness to make their move. However, Gabriel intended to beat them to the punch. As soon as dusk fell, he set his plan in motion.
“You know the plan,” he said to Javier. “Go to the foreman’s house and order the men sheltering there to head for the mine. I will tell the others.”
“At once, Jefe. You will bring Paola and Señorita Josie?”
“Sí, don’t worry about them. Just go. We don’t have much time.”
The burly man nodded, rose and made a dash for the small house. Gabriel ran to the bunkhouse where several men returned gunfire from the protection of the annex. Instructing them to quietly move into the mine, he hurried around front, calling Josie’s name before he stepped up on the porch so she’d know it was him and not shoot.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
“I have a plan. Go to the mine. I will bring Paola.”
She murmured assent and started to do as he said, but he caught her as she passed him. He kissed her quick and let her go. “Run fast, querida, and do not get shot.”
“Do the same, Gabriel,” she said, sounding breathy. Then she dashed away.
He soon followed with Paola. They were halfway to the mine when rapid gunfire tore through the night. The smugglers were attacking. He heard a man scream and hoped it wasn’t one of his. Had Javier and the others reached safety? Lifting Paola into his arms, he ran for the mine’s entrance, grabbing the flashlight but not turning it on as he charged into the pitch blackness.
“Thank God!” Josie cried, racing to his side as he set Paola down. “Are you both alright? You weren’t hit?”
“No, no, we are fine.” He curved an arm around her and squeezed her tight.
“Javier? Berto? Are you there?” Paola called out.
“They were at the foreman’s house, Señora,” one of the men answered, “but they did not come with us.”
“Dios mío!” Paola gasped.
Swearing, Gabriel released Josie and turned to go look for the two men, but at that moment they limped out of the night, one leaning on the other. “It is I, Berto and my Popi. He is hurt,” the teen said, drawing an exclamation from Paola, who went running to help support her husband.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked.
“I am a fool!” Javier cried, obviously in agony. “I had to stop … in the bushes. Stupid!”
“The shooting began as we started this way,” Berto explained. “Popi was hit in the leg. I-I think it is bad.”
“I am sorry, Jefe,” Javier gasped.
“There is nothing to be sorry for, my friend. Paola, Berto, take him to the back beyond the pool. All of you move back there. Be careful to hug the wall so you do not fall in the water.” In English, he said, “Josie, you stay with me. I’ll lead you past the pool.”” He gave the others time to reach the appointed place then caught Josie’s hand. Clamping it to the back of his belt, he said, “Hold on and prepare to run.” Then he hollered in Spanish, “Hey, filthy pigs, come and get me!”
“Okay, run!” he ordered Josie, and he took off with her right behind him. “We are near the pool. Stay close to the rock wall.”
She did as he said and they skirted the water without any misstep. Catching up with the others, he whispered for them all to be ready to shoot but not make a sound. Seconds later, voices could be heard from the mine entrance.
“What is this, a cave?” one asked.
“No, it’s a mine, idiot,” a cold, hard voice said.
“I don’t think we should go in there,” the first speaker asserted. Several others agreed with him.
“What’s the matter, Pablo? You scared of the dark?” the cold voice taunted.
“No, Boss, but this could be a trap. We can’t see what we might be walking into,” Pablo doggedly persisted.
“Phaw! They went in, so can we. Come on, that’s an order,” the boss barked. Grumbling ensued but the smugglers evidently obeyed their leader from the sound of multiple footsteps scraping the rock floor.
“Just a little farther, hombres,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. Suddenly water splashed noisily and screams rang out. “Now! Fire!” he shouted, snapping on the flashlight.
His men opened up on the hapless, thrashing outlaws. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, another Americanism Gabriel liked, especially now. The slaughter ended in a matter of seconds. The pool turned red with blood.
*
Taking in the grim scene, Josie vividly remembered some of the horrors she had witnessed in Afghanistan. Although sickened by the sight, she couldn’t say she minded seeing Manuel floating face up, dead in the pool. She was very thankful Gabriel and his followers were not among the dead. Except for one.
Clutching Gabriel’s arm, she said, “Felipe is gone.”
“I know, querida, and I am more sorry than I can say.” He ran a hand under her hair and pressed her to his chest. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “Some of the men, including Javier, are wounded. Will you help Paola tend them?”
“Of course. We should move to the bunkhouse. It will be easier there.”
Most of the wounds proved minor and easy to take care of, but Javier’s was bad. Just moving him caused him agony. By the time they got him to a bed in the bunkhouse, he had almost passed out, and when Gabriel cut away his left pant leg, exposing his wound, it was easy to see why. The bullet had ripped through his thigh, shattering the bones and opening a gaping hole.
Paola gripped her husband’s hand and bent over him, weeping. Berto stood with his hand on her shoulder, lips trembling. Standing near the foot of the bed, Gabriel sent Josie a questioning look.
“I can give him morphine for the pain but I don’t think the leg can be set without pins or something to hold the bones together,” she said. “He needs surgery in a hospital.”
He shook his head and sighed heavily. “Javier is wanted for murder. He shot a dirty cop who was in league with the guerrilleros after his son was killed. If we somehow got him to a hospital he would be arrested.” Frowning, Gabriel added, “I know of a doctor who I am sure would help, but carrying Javier down the mountain is unthinkable. I fear it might kill him.”
Josie nodded sadly. “If I only had my helo, we could fly him out.”
Gabriel crossed his arms and stared at her. “What if I were to guide you down the mountain and help you get to your helicopter? Can I trust you to fly me back here and pick up Javier – and not try to bring me to those you serve?”
Stung by his suspicion that she might betray his trust, she said sharply, “I swear I will only try to save Javier. Paola is my friend. I don’t want to see her left a widow and Berto without a father.”
When Gabriel did not immediately reply, Berto pleaded, “Let her do this thing, Señor Gabriel, por favor.”
Gabriel gazed at the young man and at his friend lying wounded on the bed. Then he nodded to Josie. “Alright, we go.”
CHAPTER NINE
Gabriel insisted Josie ride the same old mule, saying the animal might not be to her liking but was safest. He did provide an extra blanket to pad her saddle, saving her from the misery she’d previously endured. Once they set out on the downward, often perilous trail, she was grateful for her surefooted mount.
By starting early and riding until after sundown, they traveled down nearly to the cloud forest the first day. Although not as frigid as on the páramo, the night was still cold. Reluctantly, Josie agreed to share Gabriel’s blankets rather than shiver through the dark hours. However, resenting his continued distrust of her, she set the rules a
s she prepared to lie down next to him.
“Let me make one thing clear. I mean to sleep, nothing else, so keep your hands to yourself. And since I don’t trust you any more than you trust me, you might want to remember I still have the gun you gave me.”
“I will not forget, little tigresa,” he said with a scowl in his voice. He rolled to his side, facing away from her.
She almost snapped at him for calling her little but bit back the words. He’d used that word on purpose to get her goat, she sensed. Copying his example, she shifted onto her side with her back to his and hugged the blanket close.
She woke to the touch of his hand running lightly north and south along her spine, making her nerve endings tingle. Humming with pleasure, she drowsily opened her eyes to find her nose buried in his throat. The warm, familiar scent of him nearly drove her to lift her lips to his, but reality struck like an icy bath. What was she doing? She was mad at him!
Jerking away from him, she threw off her half of the blanket and sat up. “What do you think you’re doing? I told you to keep your hands to yourself,” she stormed, watching him prop himself up on his elbows and grin in the early dawn light.
“Querida, I woke with you hugging me. What was I to do but hold you?” He chuckled, plainly enjoying himself.
“Oh, you!’ Jumping to her feet, she dashed for the bushes.
“Don’t forget to watch for snakes,” he called, making her grit her teeth, but she did keep a close eye out for movement and the shiver of leaves in the underbrush.
They were getting ready to mount up minutes later when Gabriel paused to speak to her. “Thank you for sharing your warmth with me during the night, Josie.” He started to touch her arm but lowered his hand. Giving a crooked smile, he said, “I apologize for questioning your desire to help Javier. You have shown your compassion more than once before. I should not have doubted you.”
Reading sincerity in his eyes, a weight lifted from her heart. “I accept your apology, Gabriel,” she replied, voice wobbling slightly. She hoped he would kiss her, but he only caught her hands, gave them a squeeze and helped her into the padded saddle.
“I want to reach the village where Berto got the mules by tonight,” he said, laying a hand on her knee. “This will be a long day for you, I fear.”
“Don’t worry, I’m tougher than I look.” She winked, earning a laugh from him.
“Sí, you are my little tigresa,” he teased, climbing onto his horse.
“Don’t call me little,” she retorted good-naturedly.
They maintained a steady pace all day, passing through the cloud forest and into the jungle heat of the lush green foothills. Night had long since fallen by the time they arrived in the village where Berto’s uncle lived. Her boasting aside, Josie was very glad when they finally halted outside the man’s small house.
Berto’s Uncle Jaime welcomed them into his home and his wife Antonia, who was Javier’s sister, set a simple meal before them. When they told of her brother’s serious injury and how they planned to fly him to a doctor, the woman implored her husband to help them. He agreed to drive them the remaining distance to Josie’s helicopter and care for Gabriel’s horse until he was able to return. Since traveling the roads at night would make them vulnerable to criminals out to steal and kill, they decided not to leave until dawn.
Although Josie hated the delay for Javier’s sake, she welcomed a few hours rest. She and Gabriel shared a pallet and woke up tangled in each other’s arms again. This time, she had no qualms about kissing him. She wished for more but they had no privacy or time.
A short while later they bumped along in a decades-old pickup truck with Jaime at the wheel. Following Josie’s directions, he brought them to the tiny abandoned airport a few miles north of Cali where her helicopter sat in a rusty excuse for a hangar. Josie’s friend Dev had learned about the place from a contact with connections to the Colombian Army. A hefty payment to the ancient character who owned the vacant property had guaranteed his silence about the Norteamericanos and their aircraft.
The old man was nowhere around when they drove in. Just as well, Josie thought, since she didn’t want to answer any curious questions and knew Gabriel didn’t either. While he sent Jaime on his way with a promise to let him and Antonia know how Javier fared, she carefully checked over the Firebird.
“Everything appears to be in order,” she told Gabriel. “I don’t think anybody has touched it. We should have plenty of fuel to get to Javier and bring him to the doctor if the man isn’t too far away. You said he lives in the country, didn’t you?”
“Sí, but he is not very far from the city.”
“Good. I have a pair of compact ground-handling wheels in the baggage compartment. Want to help me attach them and push the Firebird outside?”
“Certainly. Firebird is a fitting name for your pretty machine.”
“Thanks. She’s my pride and joy.” Josie affectionately patted the helo’s bright red body. Then she dug out the ground-handling wheels and they swiftly attached them. Once the helo stood out in the open and the wheels were packed away, she brushed off her hands and opened the passenger’s cabin door.
“Okay. Climb aboard and let’s get this show on the road.” Hearing him laugh, she ran around to the opposite side and climbed into the pilot’s seat.
“You Americans and your slang,” he said with a shake of his head as he settled in the seat to her right.
“Yeah? I bet you Colombians have some interesting slang of your own.
“That is so. Some I would not care to repeat in your presence.”
She snorted. “I bet they’re no worse than what I heard in the Army.” Going through the start up sequence, flipping switches and adjusting controls, she asked, “You ever flown in a helo before?”
“No, I have never had the chance.”
“You’re in for a treat then. Buckle up and don’t touch the controls.” She gave him a moment to secure his seatbelt before smoothly lifting off.
Gabriel tensed for the first few moments, but observing Josie’s fluid mastery of the helicopter, he reminded himself she was an experienced pilot. Relaxing, he watched the trees and buildings below grow smaller, wondering if the inhabitants looked up and saw them fly by.
“I suggest we follow a roundabout route to the canyon,” he said. “There are too many below who might report our passing to the wrong people.”
“Right. Like more smugglers.” Veering farther north along the Cauca Valley, she caused him to tense again, wondering if she would break her promise and try flying him away, but she soon angled toward the mountains on a circuitous path, proving her word was good. Over the past several days, he’d questioned his distrust of her more and more. He was beginning to think she had told him the truth right from the start.
The approach to the hidden canyon proved tricky, but she accomplished it calmly and precisely, greatly impressing Gabriel. As they landed in the canyon bowl amid a cloud of dust, his men gathered to watch. When Josie shut down the helicopter, they drew close, admiring the shiny red machine and its pilot. She laughed and grinned at their enthusiastic greetings – until Paola came running from the bunkhouse with tears streaming down her face.
“You are here! Gracias a Dios!” she cried, throwing her arms around Josie.
“How is Javier?” Josie asked in an alarmed tone, hugging the smaller woman.
Paola stepped back. “He is bad. Has fever and is no right.” She made a face and touched her head.
“He will be alright,” Gabriel assured her in Spanish, standing beside Josie. “We will take him to the doctor immediately. Berto, you and Juan help me bring your padre out here and load him into the helicopter.”
The two men obeyed with alacrity and Javier was soon installed on blankets in the Firebird. Thanks to a morphine shot administered by his son, the last dose in Josie’s first aid kit, he barely groaned as he was moved, a relief for them all.
“I go along,” Berto said, jaw set in a stubborn line.
A pleading nod from Josie convinced Gabriel to agree. “Very well, get in.” He waited while the youth gave his mother a reassuring hug and climbed aboard. Then he spoke to the other men. “I watched the ground for any sign of our enemies as we approached but saw none. Still, be always on guard and stay safe, amigos. I will return or send word as soon as possible.”
They voiced agreement and wish him God speed. By now, Josie was in the pilot’s seat and had started the helicopter. He reclaimed his seat next to her and she guided the bird straight up until they cleared the canyon. Then, swinging toward the valley below, she flew southwest at Gabriel’s direction.
“Tell me about this doctor we’re taking Javier to,” she said. “Are you sure you can trust him not to turn us in?”
“I am sure. Mendoza is an older man with much experience as a doctor. He was well respected until he treated a criminal – an enemy of the government – and failed to report it. Another doctor betrayed him. He was sent to prison for several years and barred from practicing in any hospital in Colombia. Now he does what he can to help the cause of justice. And in case you wonder, I learned about him from my mother, who knew him for many years. I took her to him for treatment more than once.”
Josie sent him a sidelong glance. “I see,” she said slowly, sounding like she wanted to question him further. But she didn’t, for which he was grateful. She brought them to Dr. Mendoza’s small rancho within minutes, setting down in a pasture occupied by a few horses behind the rambling one-story house.
Telling her and Berto to stay there while he made sure all was safe, he trotted around to the front of the house. He was about to lift the old fashioned brass knocker when the door opened. Dr. Mendoza stood there, a jovial smile on his lined face. His hair had turned completely white and he’d added a few pounds to his slight frame since the last time they met.
“Gabriel, it is good to see you, my boy” he said, extending his hand.
“Thank you, sir. I am glad to see you as well,” Gabriel replied, finding the man’s handshake firm despite his sixty-plus years. “Please excuse me for showing up like this, but I have brought you a patient. He is seriously injured.”