by Guillou, Sue
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Gillian’s thoughts diverted to the Australian they were expecting.
If there was a sinister operation at work, the departure of her father could leave Adam and the Calendar he was carrying overtly exposed.
She cursed her father at that moment, suddenly understanding that she was the only one who could effectively protect him.
Gillian leapt into action as the adrenaline surged through her veins. She pushed her way through the crowds, tapping her pocket as she went, comforted that the tile, Kinix’s diary and Calendar drawing was securely in her large pocket.
She ran from the mess hall to the kitchen and even to the male bathrooms, looking and listening for his Australian accent, but his location eluded her. It was complicated by the fact that she had no idea what he looked like and ten minutes had passed before she received a lucky break. The pilot of the Australian F-111 was still here and when she approached him, thinking he may have been Adam, he directed her to the centre courtyard. Gillian pushed her way passed a couple of grumpy kitchen hands who swore loudly at her and rushed frantically through a pair of French doors and onto the spotlessly clean cobblestone paving.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gillian laughed as she caught sight of herself in the mirrored doors. God, she was a mess. The last twenty hours had taken its toll and she looked pale, exhausted and with her uncombed red hair, something akin to a fairytale witch.
She managed a wry grin in spite of herself and gazed at the only men in the small paved yard. There were four of them seated on a stone bench to her right. Their uniforms indicated that two were lieutenants and one was a corporal. The plain-clothed man wearing a pair of black slacks, untidy green shirt and brown jacket was so out of place that he virtually screamed the words ‘alien’. He looked extremely uncomfortable and totally out of place.
He was the one she was looking for, but how was she to get him out of here all the while convincing him he was in danger and getting him to trust her.
It was a tough call but she had no choice; failure was not an option.
Gillian calculated the situation. She did not know the men surrounding him and she had no idea where her father’s appointed custodians were. They would not appreciate her just walking up and insisting he leave with her. It would be too suspicious. She knew what to do, but the thought of pretending to be a seductive, half-witted woman made her feel sick; her true nature was the total opposite.
Gillian sighed, smoothed her hair, unbuttoned her top just enough to reveal cleavage and swaggered towards the men with as much confidence as she could muster. She felt like a fool, but the glimmer of interest and wayward expressions assured her of their interest. She hoped her twitching right eye would not give her away.
‘Hello … my name is Jilly.’ Her decision to use Richard’s pet name was made to give them the comfort of familiarity and not to alert them to her true attentions.
They all smiled at her.
‘I would like to guess by your accent that you are the Australian we’re expecting. Welcome, Adam, although this is probably not the greeting you were hoping for,’ said Gillian, gesturing to the racket inside the building.
‘Thank you. It is a little chaotic,’ he said, his voice emitting an unusual twang that was not totally unpleasant.
Gillian sized him up. He was good-looking in a skinny kind of way. He had a generous mop of dark brown hair, intelligent hazel eyes and a boyish grin. She guessed him to be in his early thirties and not the adventurous type, although she had a sinking feeling that was about to change.
‘If you have time, I would like to extend an offer of hospitality and buy you a drink. It’s the least we can do after dragging you so far from your home,’ offered Gillian as she flamboyantly and blatantly interlocked her arm with his and encouraged him to follow her. She did not meet with any resistance from Adam, although the corporal’s expression darkened considerably. He was not happy and clearly the one to watch out for.
‘I would think that would be my responsibility,’ interrupted the corporal, his sharp, eagle-like features and glaring grey eyes flushed with fury. Gillian pretended not to notice and used all of her womanly wiles to her advantage, even bending forward to give them an eyeful of cleavage.
‘Thank you for you kind offer, but I’m sure he’d appreciate the company of a woman,’ she said as she winked at Adam who looked a little flustered but did not argue.
Gillian forced her laughter to be easy and joyous. She wriggled her hips, juggled her breasts and waltzed back into the mess hall with Adam in tow.
She was disgusted by her behaviour, having to continually reassure herself it was all for a good cause.
Gillian directed Adam to the very busy and well-populated bar, ideal for a temporary cover, and noted that Adam was watching her with a mix of interest and curiosity. There was no expression of disgust at her brazen antics or anything that could be considered demeaning. If anything, his gaze was weirdly comforting.
Gillian took the opportunity to introduce herself.
‘Adam, my name is Gillian. I am General Dale Bright’s daughter.’
Puzzlement crossed his face.
‘Look … I know you do not know me but first I must assure you that I am not as dumb as I look.’
Adam chuckled. ‘I know. You may have had those men convinced, but the expression on your face as you forced your hips to move in a way that was completely unnatural was quite amusing.’
Gillian bit her lip. He read her like a book.
‘Okay. I’ll just get to the point.’
Adam waited.
‘You are in danger and I need to get both of us out of here. I know that you have no reason to trust me, but I am telling you the truth. We do not have much time,’ she implored, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutiny as he considered her comments.
A moment past before he replied. ‘I may lack the intuitive skills of a female, but I’m well aware when things are not as they should be. In ten hours I have had my home robbed, flown in a supersonic jet and found myself ambushed by a group of untrustworthy men who tried too bloody hard to be my friends. I’m more than happy to come with you if you are who you say, but I was under the impression I needed to help save the archaeologists,’ said Adam in a rolled speech that was calm and impervious.
Gillian was caught off guard by his intuition and stared at him in respect. ‘Yes, it’s my fiancé and friends who are trapped in Tikal. I will tell you all about it when we get out of here. You will just have to follow my lead and keep smiling,’ said Gillian who was quite taken back by Adam’s agreeable nature.
Adam responded by grinning widely and pretending to talk about a nondescript picture on the wall.
As quickly as she could without raising an alarm, Gillian hurried Adam through the labyrinth of halls using groups of people as cover. She knew they were being pursued, occasionally catching the reflection of the faux corporal behind them, but Gillian had an advantage. As a child she had spent many lonely hours at this base. She knew every nook and cranny backwards and recalled a particular day when she tripped over a trolley in the kitchen. She had hit the wall quite hard, but instead of landing on the floor, the panel had moved and she slid down an old unused rubbish chute into the cellar. After the initial shock passed, Gillian gained confidence and explored, discovering that the cellar had a rear door positioned only feet from the officers’ private car spaces.
As a child it gave her a place to play. Now it proved to be her salvation.
As the ominous footsteps hurried through the adjacent kitchen, gaining on their position, Gillian ushered Adam into the large commercial kitchen and pushed against the old panel. She held her breath, knowing that it had been unused for over twenty years, but to her relief it swung upwards as quietly as the day it had been made.
‘Get in,’ she ordered.
Adam hesitated until he heard the hunters slam their way into the kitchen.
They both leapt in toge
ther and held their breaths.
The slide was steep and fast, delivering them onto the floor of the cellar with an unceremonious jolt complete with an arrangement of spiders and various animal parts that called the slide home.
Gillian gasped but did not delay. She grabbed Adam’s hand and with the absence of light, led him sightlessly through a maze of unused wine barrels, crates and broken wine bottles.
‘It’s a good thing we can’t see where we are go’n’,’ said Adam as a crunching sound reverberated from under his foot.
‘Bones.’
‘Ah ha,’ agreed Gillian as she stepped up the pace, reaching the exit door at the same moment a light flicked on behind them.
They bundled into the blinding daylight that streamed between two large pylons supporting the roof of the car park. To their left was the exit and to the right, a row of privately owned vehicles.
It took a moment for Gillian’s vision to clear before she was able to tow Adam unceremoniously towards her father’s Mercedes Benz and locate the spare key on the inside of the back wheel hub he left in case of emergencies.
This was such an emergency.
Gillian jumped behind the wheel. ‘No offence, but Aussies are far more adept to driving on the wrong side of the road.’
‘The left side of the road is not the wrong side.’
Gillian grimaced. She had hit a nerve.
‘No, but I know these roads better than you.’
Adam conceded with a nod as the Mercedes roared to life and carried them out of the compound in record time.
A black Chevrolet appeared in the rear-view mirror as Gillian veered left and planted her foot, forcing the Mercedes through a set of red traffic lights. The Chevrolet followed, swerving and sliding past oncoming vehicles as horns blared ferociously.
‘Shit, they’re gonna catch us!’ shouted Adam as Gillian approached another set of lights and once again failed to adhere to the traffic rules. The cars facing the green lights screeched to a halt in a desperate bid to avoid an accident but failed as the Chevrolet was like a spanner in the works. It caused three cars to spin sideways and pile into each other in its wake. Two more burst into flames which made a spectacular sight. .
Gillian gasped. She sincerely hoped that no more people had died indirectly at Arun’s hand.
‘Bloody idiots. It seems they want you more desperately than I had anticipated. That disk you’re carrying must be something special,’ cringed Gillian as she rammed her foot on the accelerator. This forced the vehicle sideways between two street posts and up onto the footpath before ramming a newspaper stand and merging safely back into the traffic.
‘Shit hot driving.’
‘I take it that means my driving’s good in Australian!’ shouted Gillian as the black Chevrolet loomed large, forcing another vehicle off the road and into a brightly flowered garden bed.
‘Bloody right, Mate,’ Adam laughed as he corrected his language. ‘We’ll have cops on our tail if we don’t get out of here.’
‘Don’t you think I know. I just can’t shake them,’ snapped Gillian, scowling as she slowed the vehicle down and entered a one-way alley. It was a tight squeeze and she lost considerable paint against a set of metal stairs that projected past the regulated standard. The Chevrolet fared little better allowing her to make a sizeable gain which awarded her a moment to gather her breath amongst the gun shots that ricocheted off the boot lid and tail-lights. Unfortunately the police had also received news of the chase and the sirens were heard long before they pulled in behind the Chevy as it exited the alley moments after Gillian.
Gillian completed an abrupt U-turn, once again forcing oncoming traffic to come to a halt, only this time she was going with the flow and managed to use the peak hour to her benefit. Although she did not increase her distance away from their pursuers, neither were they able to catch her and she did have one thing to her advantage. As a child she had lived in this area.
Gillian thought quickly. It had been many years ago and her memories were old and distant, but she did recall a small bridge that had served as a hiding spot for the local children. It would be ideal, but she just could not remember how to get there.
They passed a small shopping strip with the black Chevrolet less than fifteen car spaces behind and the cops taking up the rear at about the same distance.
Gillian gazed about, frantically trying to locate a landmark or anything that would jolt her memory, but nothing came to the fore until a distinct red letterbox in the shape of a house brought a smile to her face. In all these years it still looked the same. Small windows, grey roof and a large door that had ‘Mail’ written above it in gold. It had not changed.
She wrenched the steering wheel 180 degrees to the right and screeched into the side street before aiming for a vacant block of land on the opposite side of the road.
Gillian’s whole life flashed before her eyes as she realised just how much she had underestimated the assassin’s desperation for the disk Adam was carrying. She was also aware that they would take their lives in an instant and she had no choice but to escape. With images of Fred, Richard and the others flashing before her eyes, Gillian forced the car to a new speed and took a leap of faith.
Adam yelled.
Many years ago this block backed onto a small narrow stream with a flat bank hidden by large reeds and overgrown trees. Anyone looking down onto it from the vacant block would be met with a view of water but no indication of how far away the opposite side was.
Gillian was praying that it had not changed.
Sweat poured from every area of her body and her heart felt like an unleashed Rottweiler. It pounded so ferociously against her ribs that she fully expected to hear cracks of breaking bone at any minute.
Adam looked as if he had already died.
The car flew into the air, fighting the natural force of gravity with all of its might. It held true and steady, bouncing with a jaw-breaking jolt in amongst an overgrown jungle of narrow-leafed bushes.
It remained intact with the engine running.
‘Wow!’ exclaimed Adam, gasping for the breath that was forcibly expelled from his lungs.
Gillian fared little better but forced her brain into action. Time was precious and she had no doubt that the Chevrolet would find another way around. She placed her foot on the accelerator and gently fed the car through the weeds and dirt. It responded immediately, catching the firm ground with the front tyres and pulling the rear along like a train until all tyres obtained traction.
They sped through the overgrown reserve noting that the Chevrolet was surrounded by two police cars in the vacant lot preceding the small stream. They were not coming after them – for the moment at least.
Gillian followed the edge of the park until she hit an old abandoned railway line and manoeuvered the vehicle in behind the partially collapsed bridge. It was low lying and well protected, affording them some time in peace.
Neither of them knew what to say. They were exhausted and drained.
Gillian broke the silence by offering Adam a drink from the small bottle of water her father carried in the car. He accepted gratefully whilst they took a moment to rest. Gillian was the first one to speak.
‘I’m sorry today has been hard on you, but it is possible that the men who broke into your home would have killed you to get to that disk. It was simply good luck and good fortune that our people got to you on time. Unfortunately time is the issue and we’re very short on it.’
‘I understand and know this is important, but you’ll need to forgive me if I’m a little worn. It’s hard to comprehend the proceedings of this day and I still feel like I’m livin’ a dream … or nightmare. I’m not sure which yet.’
Gillian squeezed his hand.
‘At least you’re not on your own. We’re in this together.’
Adam nodded in contemplation as he undid his jacket and removed a hessian bag that had been firmly fastened over his shoulder. He handed it to Gillian. ‘I suppose you n
eed this.’
Gillian glanced at him and accepted the offering with a sudden rush of nervousness. Her hands were shaking. She knew what was in this bag and to a layman, this disk represented nothing more than a pretty object, but to Gillian it was much more. It was a piece history of such importance that most archaeologists would pay to be in her position right now.
She lifted it out with care and gazed in wonderment.
It was round, about sixteen inches thick and quite light in weight. It had a hollow hexagonal centrepiece with an inlaid obsidian strip and six round two inch holes on the fascia sitting directly above each side of the hexagonal. Gillian visualised the ruby at the entrance in Tikal and was extremely disappointed to note that stone was considerably larger than the centre of this Calendar. It could not possibly be the key she had hoped.
A wave of frustration washed over her and she hit the seat in anger. She was back to square one.
‘Not as you expected?’ queried Adam.
Gillian sighed and shook her head but continued to study the artefact regardless. The fascia was completely covered in brightly hued hieroglyphics that were carved individually to different heights, giving the whole surface a multifaceted and lifelike look. Gillian turned it over and was surprised to discover that the reverse side, which was traditionally plain and flat, mirrored the front in decoration and creativity. Combined with the missing interlocking panel, she could only conclude that this piece was purely ornamental.
Gillian did not know what to make of it and was doubly confused by the deviation from the traditional hieroglyphics. She needed help. Normally she would go to Richard for his advice, but in his absence the local library was the next best thing.