Unholy Crusade

by Dennis Wheatley

  As he spoke, the Monsignor pulled open a drawer of the desk and put his hand into it. But when he withdrew his hand, instead of a paper, it held an automatic.

  Pointing it at Adam’s heart, he smiled and said smoothly, ‘I have been informed that you are carrying a pistol in an armpit holster. Be good enough to raise your hands above your head while my men relieve you of it.’

  Slowly Adam raised his big hands. He was too stunned, too shattered, even to speak. A single thought seared through his mind with the pain of a hot iron. Only Chela knew that he was carrying a gun; she had betrayed him.

  17

  While Time Runs Out

  The two hoodlums closed in on Adam, unstrapped the pistol holster and took his weapon from him. They then patted him all over for any hard objects. The only things he had on him were the money Hunterscombe had given him and the radio-cigarette case. As he would not have been allowed to retain money in prison, lest anyone should hear the coins clanking in his trouser pocket, he had put them with the notes in his shoe, under the sole of his left foot. One of the Indians opened the case, then, seeing that it contained nothing but cigarettes, snapped it shut and gave it back.

  In other circumstances Adam would have thanked God for that. As things were, he was still too overcome by Chela’s treachery to care much what happened now. Listlessly, he waited for Alberuque to ask him how he had got hold of the weapon. Since he did not, Adam concluded that Chela must have passed on the explanation he had given her—that he had taken it from a dead detective during his escape from prison.

  The search having been concluded, Alberuque ordered the two hoodlums to leave the room, laid his pistol down on the desk and took a sheet of paper from the drawer. His fish-like, black eyes focused on Adam’s, he said:

  ‘Your speech to the faithful tonight, Gordon, will be very brief; so you will easily be able to memorise it. Here it is.’ From the paper he read:

  ‘My people: true sons of Mexico and rightful owners of its wealth. I, Quetzalcoatl, am come again to release you from your bondage, and restore the worship of the ancient gods who once made you great. From on high I shall watch over you, leaving all power here in the hands of my faithful High Priest, Itzechuatl, whom I charge you to obey.’

  Adam gave a bitter laugh, ‘So you mean to come out in your true colours, and all this talk of regaining power for the Catholic Church was camouflage.’

  Alberuque spread out his long hands. ‘One must be practical, my dear Gordon. During the centuries that this country was known as New Spain the influence of the Church was paramount here and she had a fine record as the protector of the people. But since Mexico gained Independence, not only did the Church lose her power, but she suffered from a hidden schism. The lower clergy, who are mainly of Indian or mixed blood, have continued to serve their communities to the best of their ability; the higher clergy bent their necks and became the servile puppets of their atheist masters. A revolt under the banner of the Church could lead only to Mexico’s becoming subject to Rome and the Bishops. They are incapable of standing up to the pressure that the oppressors of the people would exert upon them. Within a few years at most, we would be back where we are now. Therefore, the only hope of restoring Mexico permanently to the Mexicans is to do as many other countries have done in recent times. Ceylon, for example; where, having thrown out the foreign blood-suckers, they made Sinhalese the official language and Buddhism the State religion. Here Nahuatl will become the official language and the restored worship of the Ancient Gods the State religion.’

  ‘And you,’ added Adam, ‘become Dictator.’

  ‘Who could be better fitted for that onerous position?’ Alberuque’s uneven teeth showed in a smile. ‘As you well know I have ruled here before. Incidentally, I was surprised that you did not recognise me at our first meeting. But you did after I had had you rescued from prison, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, for the black-hearted spawn of Satan that you are.’

  ‘Hard words break no bones, my friend.’

  ‘No, but bullets do,’ Adam rapped back. ‘And fire-power will prove the decisive factor in this Civil War you mean to start. Your untrained, ill-armed mobs won’t stand an earthly chance against the government forces. With tanks, artillery, strafing aircraft, flame-throwers and nerve gas, they’ll break up your formations in no time. Those wretched Indians you are misleading will disperse like mist before the sun and make off for their homes with their tails between their legs.’

  ‘You underestimate our Indians, Señor Gordon. There are no more courageous people in the world. During the past hundred and fifty years they have proved it a score of times. When they believe in a cause they become fanatics and prefer death to surrender. Led by Morelos, Santa Anna, Benito Juárez, Pancho Villa, Zapata and in the Cristero rebellion, they died fighting for their beliefs by the tens of thousands.’

  ‘Then this time it will be by the hundred thousand.’

  ‘Even such losses are relatively unimportant. In the French Revolution a million people died and France then had a population of only twenty million. In Mexico today the population is nearly double that. Besides, our plans are well laid: the Militia will fight on our side and a great part of the Army will come over to us. At Uxmal, during the ceremony of “Recognition”, I showed you to our leaders from all over Mexico. Tonight, at the ceremony of “Elevation”, only those from Mexico City Federal District will be present. At the conclusion of the ceremony they will return to their posts. Then by radio and telephone the codeword will be sent out to all the others who now wait impatiently for it. With simultaneous risings in every city, town and village in the country, the government cannot possibly hope to hold more than a score or so of places where there are large garrisons. Isolated, and with their supplies cut off, they will be compelled to surrender. It will all be over within three weeks.’

  The confidence and resolution that Alberuque displayed convinced Adam that the movement was far more formidable than he had previously supposed. But he had one last shot in his locker, and used it.

  ‘All right then. Let’s say you do get control of the country. According to your programme, it is to be Mexico for the Mexicans, with all foreigners thrown out. Do you realise what a “foreigner” is in a coloured man’s country? He is any white man. And you are white. Before you are a year older, the odds are they’ll run a coup d’état of their own and hang you from a lamp-post.’

  For a second, Alberuque’s eyes dropped. Holding out the sheet of paper, he snapped. ‘We waste time. Come now, learn your brief speech so that you may make it with clarity and dignity.’

  ‘What if I refuse? You can’t make me.’

  ‘In that you are mistaken. You will do as you are told or live to rue the consequences.’

  ‘Then I will wait until you tell me what those consequences will be,’ retorted Adam stubbornly.

  Alberuque shrugged and put the paper in his pocket. ‘As you will. We shall have ample time for you to learn it at the place to which we are going. And now I have a pleasant surprise for you. By tradition only males are allowed to be present at our great ceremonies, but tonight I am making one exception. The Señorita Chela has rendered such outstanding services to our cause that I am rewarding her by taking her with us.’

  As he spoke, he pressed a bell on his desk. A minute later Chela entered the room.

  Had Adam passed her in the street he would not have known her. Her own hair was concealed under a beret and from its rim there hung a fringe of greasy, brown, false hair, quite short across her forehead, about four inches long behind and with two matted tufts of about the same length at the sides, which hid her pretty ears. She had on dark glasses and was wearing a rubber raincoat without a belt, so her figure was also hidden. The costume was completed by a pair of scruffy old calf-high boots and she had smeared her lips with something that gave them a faintly purplish look. As she was tall for a woman, even without her high heels, she was well up to the average height of a native; so, with her bronzed
complexion and the false brown hair, she would have been taken anywhere for a Mestizo youth.

  Adam gave her a withering look and said, ‘I hear you are being paid off with a ticket for the party instead of thirty pieces of silver.’

  Her pale mouth twitched as though he had slapped her. In a low voice she replied, ‘I’m sorry. But … but I did it for your own sake. Knowing you had that gun I couldn’t possibly risk your using it.’

  ‘Thanks for your concern for my immortal soul, but I’m quite capable of taking care of it myself.’ His glance swept her from head to toe. ‘Congratulations on the outfit. The Educational Committee you attended this afternoon evidently takes a special interest in amateur theatricals.’

  ‘Don’t be so bitter, Adam,’ she said sharply. ‘How could I tell you that I meant to spend the afternoon perfecting my disguise without giving it away that the ceremony was to be tonight? You have only yourself to blame for being so suspicious and antagonistic towards Monsignor Alberuque.’

  ‘So you thought I might do a bolt, and risk being caught by the police, although that would have meant a life sentence?’

  ‘You can be so stubborn at times, I thought it possible.’

  ‘And that we could not possibly afford to risk,’ Alberuque put in. ‘My threats, of course, were only a bluff to keep you here. If you had taken to your heels it would have done us no good to have laid an information about you. But we should have temporarily lost you; and my dear Gordon, you are irreplaceable. No one else could take the role of Quetzalcoatl convincingly.’

  ‘Yes, I see that now,’ Adam muttered angrily. ‘But even without any false evidence from your people about the murder of the warder, the police would have believed that I connived in the prison break and put me inside for a good long stretch.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Chela took him up quickly. ‘And everything else apart, I just couldn’t let you risk that. Please believe me, Adam, I only acted in what I believed to be your own best interests. I swear I did.’

  Angry as he was at having been tricked and deprived of his pistol, Adam was fair-minded enough to appreciate her point of view. Admittedly she had saved Alberuque, but in the present case that did not conflict with the anxiety she must have felt that he should neither commit the sacrilege of shooting the—to her—sacred priest, nor take the bit between his teeth and land himself with a long prison sentence. A little grudgingly he said:

  ‘Oh well, it’s evident that you think I should be grateful to you for saving me from myself. Perhaps I should be. Anyhow, what’s done is done, and we’ll get nowhere by arguing further about it.’

  ‘That’s better,’ Alberuque purred, ‘much better between young people who love one another there always occur misunderstandings. But they should not be allowed to fester.’ Standing up, he picked up his pistol and added, ‘Come! We still have many preparations to make; so we should be on our way.’

  As he spoke, he stepped past the others to open the door. For a second it crossed Adam’s mind to seize him while his back was turned and get his pistol from him. Next moment it was too late. Although unconscious of Adam’s intention, Chela had stepped between them. Out in the hall the two hoodlums were still on guard. With Alberuque leading and the hoodlums bringing up the rear, they left the house.

  The helicopter had been brought out of the hangar and now stood on the rough grass of the open space in the middle of the garden. It was a four-seater. The pilot was already at the controls and, as Adam was told to get into the seat next to him, he noticed that he was not one of the mechanics he had seen in the barn, but a lean man with a scarred face. The two mechanics were only standing by in case they were needed. Chela sat immediately behind Adam and Alberuque behind the pilot. The engine was started up, there came a whirr of blades and, gently, the machine rose from the ground.

  Adam’s brain was racing. Very soon now must come the showdown. For him to participate actively in the ceremony was obviously essential to its complete success, and he had no intention of doing so. But when he refused to learn his speech—what then? He thought it as good as certain that, furious at being thwarted, Alberuque would no longer hesitate to kill him. In fact, he would probably seize on that to justify the deed in the eyes of his followers. Alone and unarmed, Adam knew that he would stand no chance at all. His only hope of being rescued lay in bringing Hunterscombe and the police upon the scene. But to do that he would need at least five minutes entirely on his own, so that he could use his radio.

  As the helicopter lifted, they could see the myriad lights of Mexico City to the north. For a time Adam thought of what must be going on down there. In the crisp evening air following the hot day, millions of people would be looking forward to the pleasures that the night always brought. The chefs at the Hilton, the Rivoli, the El Presidente and a score of other deluxe restaurants would be preparing rich dishes for the wealthy; the Sandborn coffee-shops would be packed with typists, shop girls and their boy-friends laughing over good if less expensive fare; in hundreds of bistros the barmen would be pouring tequila, gin and beer for groups debating every topic under the sun; queues would be filing into the cinemas and countless families starting out for their evening stroll under the palms in the Alameda and other parks.

  Unless he could prevent it in some way, overnight this scene of gaiety and quiet pleasure would be replaced by brooding terror. The streets, except for dead bodies here and there and armed men hunting down their enemies, would be empty. No-one’s life would be safe. There would be pillage, rape and arson. Ghastly scenes of massacre and innocent people caught in suspicious circumstances being summarily shot. That had happened many times before in Mexico City and would happen again. Even if Alberuque proved right in his assertion that the revolution would be over swiftly—which Adam did not believe—it still meant that many people would lose their lives and a multitude of others suffer grief, loss and misery before order could be restored.

  Yet what could he do to save the situation? Only dig in his toes and refuse to make the speech upon which Alberuque was counting so much to inflame his followers with uncontrolled fanaticism; and pray that a chance would come for him to get in touch with Hunterscombe in time for him to save the city from a holocaust.

  The helicopter veered east of the city, passing over only the outer suburbs and the marshes of Madero, which were the last remnants of the great lake that had once surrounded it. The moon had just risen and lit the unearthly landscape: the flattish valley sloping away to the east and on either side of it the great ranges of volcanic peaks, their slopes as barren as the mountains of the moon themselves.

  When they had travelled some twenty-five miles the helicopter began to descend and Adam then had no difficulty in guessing their destination. Ahead of them, throwing strong shadows in the moonlight, lay the mighty Pyramids of the Sun and the Moon at Teotihuacán. As Adam leaned forward to see them better, he let his right hand hang down between his seat and that of the pilot. Another hand, which he knew must be Chela’s, clasped it from behind and pressed it.

  He was still furious with her for having robbed him of his chance, in the last event, to shoot Alberuque, but he had not the heart to push her hand away. They had known such wonderful times together, and that she loved him he could not doubt. It was only her obsession with the thought of securing a better life for the millions of wretchedly poor Indians that lay between them and caused her to give unquestioning devotion to Alberuque. Returning the pressure of her fingers, he held them as the helicopter slowly sank on to the reception area of the ruins, enclosed by the museum, the restaurant and the rows of shops selling souvenirs.

  As the machine grounded, a group of men ran forward; some of them secured it while others, evidently Alberuque’s principal lieutenants, greeted him obsequiously. Several of them were wearing the uniform of officers of the Militia and all of them had white armbands upon which were black crosses surmounted by the snake symbol of Quetzalcoatl.

  Alberuque at once started firing questions at them, and their
replies showed Adam that the revolution had been far better organised than he had supposed would be the case. Soon after the guides and day staff had gone home for the night, the whole complex of buildings had been taken over without incident. Such personnel as remained were under lock and key. The telephone exchange was now manned by professional operators and any calls would be dealt with so as not to arouse suspicion. The windows of the buildings had all been screened so that no unusual amount of light for that time of night would show, and patrols were out on the main road ready to direct the arriving delegates to the car parks.

  Having satisfied himself that all his orders had been carried out, Alberuque led the way over to the restaurant. As they entered it, he said over his shoulder, ‘We have a long night before us, so we shall sup here before we change into garments suited to the occasion.’

  ‘Fine,’ Adam remarked, having decided to give the impression that he was now more or less reconciled to playing his part. ‘But first I must ask you to excuse me. I suppose it’s nerves, but I’ve got a pain in my tummy.’

  One of the Militia officers was detailed to take him to the lavatory. Immediately he had bolted the door behind him, he took out his radio-cigarette case. To his fury and distress, for several minutes atmospherics interfered with reception. Impatiently the officer knocked on the door and called to him to hurry up. Sweating now with apprehension that he was going to have to abandon this last chance of getting through to Hunterscombe, he ignored the summons and kept on sending. Then, to his immense relief, the Wing Commander acknowledged his call. Swiftly he sent:

  ‘Have been flown out to Teotihuacán. Party being held here probably midnight. Unless measures taken immediately revolt likely to be nation-wide and very difficult to suppress. Am in fear of my life. Hurry.’

  Hunterscombe sent back: ‘Good show. Stall for as long as you can. Will be with you soonest possible.’

  On being taken to the restaurant, Adam found that a buffet supper was being eaten, composed mainly of tinned foods which had evidently been a part of its stock. His mind had been so occupied with his anxieties when Alberuque had said they were to sup that he had not felt like eating anything; but his large frame required considerable sustenance and, for the past few days, the meals given him at the monastery had been so meagre that the mere sight of food gave him a sudden appetite. Helping himself lavishly to ham and half of one of the miserable little Mexican chickens, he set to.