The restaurant was fairly empty, the early morning rush having come and gone. There were a few stragglers swapping stories over coffee and a couple of waitresses were clearing and cleaning the tables.
Evan went to the counter. A gray haired, heavy-set woman appeared and handed him a menu. From beneath the counter, she retrieved a cup and saucer. After filling it with hot coffee, she returned.
Evan was grateful for the caffeine even though his adrenaline was pumping enough. He blew across the top of the coffee and still nearly burned himself as the piping hot brew drained down his throat. The waitress brought water and stood, pad in hand. He set the cup down. “English?”
She blew out her cheeks and with a small downturn of her mouth, nodded. “Si, un poco.”
Evan pointed at the food then told her how many orders. The woman finished writing and looked up. “Ees, many, eh?”
“Muy pronto, por favor.” Evan sipped his coffee.
Eyebrows raised, pencil shoved in her hair, the waitress rushed to the kitchen. When she came back, she held up both hands, extending her fingers. She flashed her hands twice. “Veinte minutos.”
Evan repeated her gesture. “Twenty minutes?”
A quick nod and she left to help in the kitchen.
He sipped his coffee and did his best to be patient until the order was finally ready. The waitress came around the kitchen corner with a double stacked, wheeled cart, followed by a boy and then a man, both similarly encumbered. Wheels creaked and metal groaned.
At the register, Evan paid the bill and signaled everyone to follow. The carts bounced over the rough pavement, but they made it to the truck where Evan opened the tailgate and helped load. Once they were finished, Evan took out his wallet and handed each of the workers a substantial tip. With grateful smiles, they dragged their carts away.
Out on the busy streets, Evan found his way back to the designated meeting spot. He knew the men would be more than ready for food. His own stomach had started objecting quite a while ago.
Evan couldn’t help worrying as he turned into a back alley. “How the hell are we going to get everybody there?”
He pulled up to the group and stopped. “Ni-Cio, I have food, but I still don’t have any idea how are we going to move the men …”
Ni-Cio disengaged from his friends and pointed behind the truck. “Do not worry … we have found transport! There is an abandoned building two blocks over. We will meet you there. We will eat and then I will explain …” A picture of vacant offices came to mind and Evan nodded. He threw the truck in reverse.
He parked as near to a door as possible when he reached the run-down complex. The men were already there and had managed to get the entrance open.
Evan surveyed the area. It was fairly abandoned; the people he saw were engaged in other activities and hadn’t even cared enough to look up. He unmasked the group of men who had crowded around the truck. He and Ni-Cio climbed into the back and handed out the containers. Once everybody’s arms were full, they hurried back to the offices.
Inside, spreading out over the floor, the Atlanteans quickly devoured their food. When they were down to the last scraps, Ni-Cio addressed Evan. “There is a tour bus that leaves within the hour. It is taking people to Travlor’s church. Travlor’s residence is not far from there.”
Ni-Cio put his takeout box on the floor and threw his crumpled napkin on top of it. “The church is about a four hour drive from here, somewhere in the mountains. I asked the tour operator if there was room for twenty people, but he said that there were only eleven seats left. It was my thought that the vehicle you have found will provide enough room to carry the rest of us.”
Evan wiped his mouth. “Excellent work!”
“There is a slight problem.” Ni-Cio held out his palms.
“Yes?” Evan didn’t understand.
“We reserved the tickets, but we could not pay for them.”
Evan looked at his watch. “Alright, let’s load up the men who will be going on the bus.” He stood up and dusted his pants.
Ni-Cio quickly chose the riders, who followed Evan out the door. Before he left, Evan looked over his shoulder, “I’ll be back soon. Be ready to load up.”
It seemed that the path was opening before them.
Staying in the relative safety of her rooms, Daria did not dare venture out. She couldn’t contain the riotous thoughts spinning through her mind and her heart pounded like a runaway freight train. Walking in circles, she paused every now and then to stare out the window, heart in her throat. When? She paced until she was forced to lie down. The baby weight made her body ache in places she didn’t even know she had.
Her moods were out of control. Swinging from the heights of joy to the depths of fear, her body alternately burned with fever or froze so that her fingers became numb.
With nerves stretched tighter than piano wire, she tried to read, but the book was useless as a distraction. She reread the same sentence over and over and over until, frustrated beyond belief, she had thrown the book across the room.
She was terrified of sending a thought-form. She refused to interfere in the slightest way with Ni-Cio’s efforts. With no idea where he was or how much longer it would be, she tried to imagine what they were doing.
At one point, she moaned and dropped her head to her hands. “And I thought Travlor was crazy. I’m driving myself insane!”
The morning dragged and the clock on the nightstand indicated just how slowly time was passing. “Only nine-thirty.”
She shivered in a burst of anticipation, the feel of Ni-Cio’s arms around her was almost a reality. “Hurry, my love.”
Unable to stare at the same four walls a minute longer, she burst out the door, startling her entourage. Without paying any attention to their presence, she headed outside.
On the terrace, she stopped to survey the surroundings. Guards were everywhere. The men in the towers marched back and forth in a constant vigil and were on high alert. Their roving eyes never rested as they scoped the area for anything that might present a threat. The road, once crowded with the religious, was now clogged with military tanks, trucks, and jeeps. Outside the walls, she heard the sound of men running drills. They were as comfortable with the dark interior of the forbidding jungle as the animals that inhabited it.
She couldn’t see how Ni-Cio would gain entrance. She lowered herself down the steps, refusing the arm offered by one of her guards.
As she strolled through the gardens, she tried to take in the perfumed air, but all she smelled was her groupies. The humidity was relentless and everyone perspired like they had run a marathon. She tried to increase the distance between them, but the men stayed close.
A riot of colors proliferated in the helter-skelter gardens. She let her fingers trail over some of the flowers. Their different textures tickled her palm and yellow pollen stuck to her hand. As she swiped her hand down her shirt, a thought wound through her mind.
“We are moving. We will be arriving at the church Travlor built. Do you know how far you are from there?”
Losing her footing, she nearly stumbled. One of the men bumped her as he was trying to catch her, and she almost fell down. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her upright. Covering her anxiety, Daria signaled that she was all right. “Please, can you give me some space?” The unit moved a few feet away and until she was back in the house, that would be all the space they would allow. Satisfied, she lowered her face to a flower, taking her time and inhaling deeply. “Love, it is not far. The drive is about thirty minutes, but the road is dirt and narrow and bordered on both sides with dense jungle. When you reach the church, there will be a large parking area, most of which will be taken up by military . . .”
“I understand. Do not concern yourself. Aris has come up with a very good plan. We leave soon. I will let you know when we have reached the church. You are my heart. Look t
o yourself and our child …”
“Oh, Ni-Cio, you are my heart too. I can’t be without you. Look to yourself … I will be ready …”
Evan got the eleven Atlanteans situated on the bus while Ni-Cio loaded the rest of the men into the back of the truck. Aris had the dubious honor of riding up front in the middle. While not easy and certainly not comfortable, their chosen modes of transportation would get them where they needed to go and that was all Ni-Cio cared about.
Wearing their bioskins beneath topsider clothes, the men were as comfortable in the humid climate as they were going to get. Ni-Cio closed the tailgate but left the window up so that his men would get some type of circulation. He went around to the passenger side and jumped in.
Evan started the truck and swung the vehicle around. “The bus is waiting for a few more people. It should not be more than five minutes before they depart.”
He drove to a place behind the bus and waited for the rusty exhaust pipe to begin belching black smoke.
When the last of the faithful were ushered on, the driver climbed in after them. In a smelly cloud of fumes, the bus chugged into traffic. Evan stayed right on its tail.
For the men in the back of the truck, the journey was not easy. Two hours into the drive, Evan halted so that they could rotate. They reacquired the bus as the road started its climb into the lower mountain ranges of the Andes.
Another hour trailed by and Evan stopped again. As they were now on the only road leading to Travlor’s church, they no longer worried about staying close. However, it wasn’t hard to catch up to the bus. They had reached an elevation of twenty-five hundred feet and the bus seemed to be gasping for air. The driver wasn’t able to coax anymore speed from the vehicle, which was just as well, as the road was flanked on one side by the mountain, while the other side plummeted in a sea of green into a steeply angled ravine. At times, it looked to Evan like the two wheels of the wide bus hovered over the precipitous drop. He had no problem hugging the mountainside until they had made the summit and the road flattened out.
Another couple of hours passed before the church finally came into view. Evan and Ni-Cio had expected a number of military vehicles but the phalanx surrounding the church was impressive. Evan parked between two Humvees and everyone exited the truck as quickly as possible.
The bus pulled up in front of the church and passengers poured out, cameras and phones snapping non-stop. Gawking like the other tourists, Ni-Cio’s crew caught up to the other Atlanteans and they spread through the crowd, following the tour guide into the vestibule.
The gaudy splendor that greeted them elicited a whistle from Evan. “I never expected this. If I didn’t know him, this monument would make me think he was something saintly.”
The number of people in attendance was astounding, the pews were packed. Their guide said that the church could hold two thousand people but to Ni-Cio, it seemed that number had been far surpassed. “As soon as the group starts its return to the bus, Evan will inform the guide that we have found other means of travel. Once that is done, gather back at the truck and we will initiate our next steps . . .”
His men signaled their agreement, and in order to lessen the impression of the size of their group, wandered off in twos and threes. Ni-Cio and Evan stayed behind and found two available seats. They slid into the pew. As if in prayer, Ni-Cio continued going over their plan. “When we are at the truck, step into the jungle and divest yourselves of your topside clothing. Masked as soldiers, we will find our way to a detail that is being dispatched to the complex . . .” Ni-Cio dragged his palms across his thighs. He was nervous and had started to sweat. He sought Evan’s reassurance, “Any last minute thoughts or changes? I do not intend to risk Daria or our daughter in an ill-timed maneuver . . .”
Evan brought his hands up to his forehead and sank to the padded prayer bench. Trying to look like another devotee, he furrowed his brow in an attempt to appear pious. “Our plan is good. We have to be ready for contingencies, but we’re prepared. Try to remain calm …”
“Calm is as far from me as Atlantis is …”
Ni-Cio left Evan to his thoughts and furtively took count of his men. Scattered throughout the church, they emulated the tourists who flocked to admire the immense edifice that Travlor had erected.
The tour was only supposed to take an hour and as it neared its conclusion, Ni-Cio’s heart picked up its rhythm. His heart thumped his chest so hard that his shirt jumped in time to the beats. Ni-Cio closed his eyes and thought of home. He imagined how it would be when he and Daria got back. Those thoughts didn’t calm him in the least, but they did occupy his mind for a few moments.
He knelt on the bench and placed his hands against his chest in prayer pose. “Love, we are at the church. I do not believe it will be long before we can climb aboard a vehicle that has been ordered to the house. Watch for us … we will be masked as military …”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Stirring, Ni-Cio reseated himself. As if in awe, he stared transfixed, at Travlor’s statue. “No! Please do nothing … when we are on the grounds, lead me to your room, but stay there and stay safe . . .”
“Don’t worry love, I won’t do anything stupid …”
Ni-Cio broke communication and saw that some of the faithful were starting toward the exits. His men were on the move as well.
Standing, Ni-Cio nudged Evan. He rose from the kneeling bench and they stepped out of the pew. They merged with the crowd headed back to the vestibule, then extricated themselves and made for the truck. Their plans were coming together, and Ni-Cio and his men were more than ready.
He and Evan waited as the rest of the men left the tour and gathered at the back of the truck. Evan left to do a sweep of the grounds. People were engrossed in military duties, tours, or prayers. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention. He signaled Ni-Cio.
The Atlanteans casually strolled into the jungle and began to remove their garments. When Evan joined them, Ni-Cio took a moment for questions or comments. No one had anything else to say and they didn’t need any more advice. It was time.
Standing in their bioskins, precious crystals lodged in hidden pockets, they waited to be masked. Evan took one more look at the group and smiled. “We will win the day. Look smart and remember—as soldiers, don’t respond unless you have to. As your commanding officer, I will step in if you need help.”
He considered each of the men before he continued. “You are my friends. I will give my life to protect you. With luck on our side, we will all be back home very soon.”
Ni-Cio stepped forward. “We survived the fires of hell when we defended our home.” He peered at Evan. “We have all endured much. I do not know what this day will bring, but there are no finer men that I would rather have at my side. Look to your partner, look to yourselves. Now, let us find our way to Travlor’s hideout and bring our healer home!”
The men hugged each other and trickled out of the jungle into the mellow afternoon sun. Masked to resemble every military man that rushed around the churchyard, they fell into the squadron as easily as water falls over a dam.
Mixing with the soldiers that were to become part of a detail headed to the complex had been deceptively easy. Evan had compelled the lieutenant in charge of rounding up the volunteers. Fifty men had been selected and commanded to Travlor’s stronghold. Their orders were to guard the perimeter.
Two large, tarped trucks stood idling, ready to leave as soon as the volunteers were loaded. Twenty-five men, including twenty Atlanteans, climbed into the back of the first truck and found their seats.
Resting against the supports, the Atlanteans were determined not to bring attention to themselves, so they stayed quiet. However, Evan kept a vigilant watch for signs that their cover was suspect. He was prepared to use his limited Spanish to intervene if anyone questioned them; however, he sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be necessar
y. He didn’t think it would wash if the man in charge couldn’t understand one of his officers, so he too, sat very still. However, his gaze never rested. He hadn’t told Ni-Cio that if things went south, he was prepared to compel as many of the soldiers as he could in order to give his friends the chance to get to Daria.
The Atlanteans had been anxious about their disguises. The masking was questionable enough that the men were on high alert. Evan had harbored his own doubts, so no matter what happened, he was determined to look as though he had the situation under control. However, he was much more disturbed than he had let on. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if they were found out, his father wouldn’t hesitate to kill all of them.
Evan kept that knowledge to himself. Nevertheless, he was prepared to do everything in his power to keep that from occurring. After his failed attempt at patricide, he wasn’t certain he could bring himself to try again; however, if his friends were taken, then all bets were off.
Evan shuffled his feet and repositioned his back against the hard pole. As he did, his shoulder jostled the man seated next to him. He turned to offer his apology, but the soldier eyed him with such suspicion that he shrugged and turned the other way. It wasn’t long before he felt a tap on his shoulder. Reluctantly he faced the soldier again.
“American?”
Evan nodded.
“I speak English, I like to try it when I can. Do you mind?”
Evan felt the leery stares of the other soldiers so he barged into the conversation. “I’m from Boston.”
They shook hands.
“I do not know where Boston is, but I think you are long from home.”
“I brought some friends with me.” He gestured at his group. “We’re sick of Uncle Sam dictating who we can or can’t worship. We came to help in the only way we could. So, here we are.”
Currents of Will: Book Two of The Atlantis Chronicles Page 21