Vistaria Has Fallen

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Calli gasped. They were airborne.

  The ground dropped away. Calli watched the lawn recede beneath her feet, for the glass curved right over the nose and stopped four inches from her toes.

  With another small adjustment of the controls, Nick turned the helicopter to face north. It hung motionless in midair, then he pushed the controls forward.

  She caught her breath, alarm seizing her, as the nose of the craft dipped and the tail came up. They slid through the air, the muffled “thwock-thwock” of the blades dimming further under the rush of wind.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Nick assured her, his voice issuing in her ear. It was an intimate whisper.

  She looked at the view in front of her feet. Las colinas was tiny. Already she could see the outskirts ahead and green tree canopy beyond that. “How fast are we going?”

  “One hundred and fifty knots.”

  She wrinkled her forehead, trying to remember what knots meant. “Can you put that in terms I can relate to? How long will it take us to get there? Where is there, anyway? Are we going to pick up Duardo? How did he get to phone you? I thought he was with his unit somewhere, fighting the rebels.”

  Nick held up his hand. “Enough. I promised you an explanation. I have not forgotten. Now I have time to spare—a small amount. We’re heading for a place southeast of the Pascuallita base, where the front line is estimated to be. We should reach there in just over ninety minutes. Yes, we will pick up Duardo. With luck, Minnie, too.”

  “How? How did he get through to your cell?”

  “He phoned. How else?” Nick seemed puzzled.

  “I thought the army was scattered and on the run. He carries a cell phone with him?”

  “They’re scattered, but not entirely on the run. They will try to regroup into units, to find each other and build guerilla bands to impede the progress of the rebels until they can contact the proper chain of command and receive fresh orders.”

  “That was what Duardo was doing? Where was he?”

  “On the coast. There are seaside villages that are so far untouched. He found a working phone and called headquarters. Because you specifically named Duardo in your efforts to enter the building, that information and your presence there was passed on to him for feedback. Then he was transferred to my cell.”

  “What did you tell him? Is he all right?”

  “He’s cut off from his unit but he’s fine. He’s almost directly south of the base, which puts him in an ideal position to quarter the area around the coast road. He will find Minnie’s car and track her from there. Southwest of the base, where we’re heading, there’s a campground. It’s not used much because the jaguars like the area, too. Duardo knows it well. It has an open, flat space I can get this beast into and still maneuver.”

  “That’s where we’re meeting him? It’ll take him hours!”

  “Duardo knows his limits. He estimated he was only twenty minutes away from the campground. That gives him ninety minutes to look for Minnie before he has to make for the camp.”

  “She could be anywhere!”

  Nick shook his head. “It might seem that way to you. There are few places to where Minnie could safely move. She’ll be driven back to the city if she tries to go north or west into the mountains. The easiest route south, the route she will be forced to take, is the road she used to get there. She’ll go by foot. If Duardo finds her car, he will find her shortly after that. He’s an excellent tracker.”

  Calli sat back in her seat, feeling a huge swell of relief. “Are all your officers so useful?”

  “Duardo is a good sample,” Nick said judiciously. “He will do well.”

  She rubbed her forehead and let her eyes close. They were gritty with lack of sleep.

  “It may not be as straightforward as that, though,” Nick added.

  “Why?” she demanded, opening her eyes.

  “There are rebels throughout the hills and Duardo is wearing a uniform. If he is seen, he will have to fight his way out of it.”

  “If Minnie is with him...”

  “Then she will be fair game too.”

  She closed her eyes again, ill with fear, and felt Nick’s hand on her knee. “Now you know why I tried so hard to avoid this outcome, Calli. Politicians do not count the innocent amongst their victims.”

  “We have to, don’t we?”

  He didn’t answer her and Calli felt a heavy, dark weight settle in her heart and mind.

  * * * * *

  Nick held a steady course north, following the spinal mountain chain for another hour. Then he adjusted their course for a northeasterly direction. The mountains fell away to their left. For the first time, evidence of war showed. Black smoke spiraled up to the north of them and spread a gray haze across the sky. As they got closer, small orange lights flickered.

  “Gun fire,” Nick said, pointing to them.

  “Oh God...” she breathed.

  He pointed again, this time toward the coast ahead of them. “The coast road.”

  She could just make out a thin, smooth line, merely an indentation in the tree line, running parallel with the coastline. “I can’t see people on it.”

  “We’re too far away. Keep watching.”

  Abruptly, he yanked on the controls and the helicopter tipped sideways, as if a giant hand had pulled an invisible rug out from under them.

  Calli gasped and gripped the sides of her chair, looking over her shoulder at the ground that climbed toward her. “What’s happening?” she yelled.

  “Tracers!”

  “What?”

  Nick pulled back on the stick, slowing the helicopter, although they were still sliding down the invisible chute toward the ground. The engine made a peculiar whining noise. He tugged at the controls, throwing all his weight into it. The helicopter jigged sideways and climbed the air. Calli took a deep breath as her stomach flipped and dug her fingers into the upholstery.

  Slowly their ascent smoothed out. Mountains lay ahead. They had made a complete turn. The one-eighty spin let her see what had alarmed Nick the first time. From the forest at the foot of the mountain came flashing. A line of white dashes reached through the sky toward them.

  “That’s gunfire. They’re shooting at us!”

  Nick wrenched on the controls. The craft once more slid down the invisible sharp slope, only this time, the forest rolled past Nick’s shoulder. Calli swallowed hard, not sure whether it was fear or the aerobatics that made her stomach cartwheel. She hung on grimly.

  “I’ll go lower and use the trees as cover,” Nick said. His voice was calm and remote. He might have been discussing using milk instead of cream in his coffee. He eased the helicopter level and pushed the nose down to increase their forward speed. “We’re almost there.”

  He guided the craft along the treetops. It seemed as though she could lean down and snag leaves in her hand, they looked so close. It gave her stationary objects against which to measure their speed. They were going very fast.

  Ahead, she spotted the coast road again. They were close enough to make out the long row of vehicles and a thick stream of people alongside it.

  Refugees.

  The helicopter turned. The road slipped beneath her and out of view. They were heading northwest. Nick eased the controls over and they banked in a curve to the left. He looked out past Calli’s shoulder.

  “That’s the campground.”

  She looked. There was a bald spot amongst the trees—pale green intersected by a thin strip she assumed was a road. “Do you have to circle to let Duardo know you’re here?”

  “No need. He’ll hear the helicopter from miles away. If he’s here, he’ll make sure we spot him.”

  “You’re circling, anyway?”

  “I won’t land until I have to. I’d be a sitting duck down there and I’ve got far too valuable a cargo to take such a risk.”

  She realized he was referring to her. Her cheeks bloomed with unusual heat. She could think of no suitable response and her sil
ence had already extended too long to make a snappy answer possible. Instead, she looked to her left, at the ground, scanning the visible area of the campsite.

  “There,” Nick said, pointing to the northern edge of the site.

  Calli peered. She could see nothing.

  Nick brought the helicopter around, bringing it lower.

  A small dot moved out from the rim of the trees. Calli’s perspective was skewed. She had been looking for something much larger. The small dot must be Duardo, which made the campsite larger than she had thought. They were higher than she had guessed, too.

  The helicopter dropped vertically, turning on its axis. She lost sight of Duardo’s figure and leaned forward to watch past Nick’s chest for Duardo to come back into sight as they swiveled full circle. Then she saw him.

  They were at treetop height.

  Duardo waved at the trees behind him. He wore jungle fatigue pants and a black sleeveless stretch tee-shirt that looked nothing like army issue. In his right hand he held an automatic pistol, down by his side, while he waved with his left.

  From between two trees, Minnie appeared, dressed in jeans and a torn tee-shirt, running for her life. Calli caught her breath as relief, shock and fear speared her chest.

  Duardo let Minnie pass him, then ran behind her, a slow lope that covered the ground as quickly as Minnie’s all-out sprint.

  “There’s trouble,” Nick said.

  He put the helicopter on the ground, yet she could tell by the way he juggled the pedals with his feet that he was keeping it poised for immediate take off.

  “Open your door and get in the back. Quickly.”

  She obeyed, fumbling with the awkward catch on the door. She shucked off her safety harness and headset and squeezed through the two seats into the cramped back seat. By the time she turned around, Minnie was almost to the helicopter. Her small face was white, her eyes wide and her mouth open. She held out her hand, almost leaning towards them as she ran.

  Behind her, Duardo looked over his shoulder every few steps.

  Trouble chasing them.

  Minnie was at the door now, scrambling to climb the awkward step into the cabin. She gasped for breath. She stumbled, her shin hit the edge of the door sill and she gave a breathless little whimper. Calli held out her hand, intending to boost her up and through to the back seat, to make way for Duardo.

  Duardo reached the door and held it open, out of Minnie’s way. He looked back, watching.

  From the trees, three armed men rushed out into the open. As they lifted their rifles up, Nick shouted, “Down!”

  Minnie threw herself across the front seat and Nick’s hand landed on Calli’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way. There was no arguing with the force he used. She folded without resistance, dropping into the tiny space between the bench seat and the back of the chair she had been sitting in. She could just see over the windowsill.

  Duardo merely turned, his gun raised. He fired three shots.

  The men at the other end of the empty field did not hesitate. They knew his pistol couldn’t reach them, for all but one of them kept running.

  Minnie tried to clamber into the back seat.

  “Minnie, stay down,” Nick said sharply.

  Duardo glanced at her, then back over his shoulder.

  The third man had halted and raised his rifle to his shoulder. Even Calli, who knew nothing about weapons, sensed the man was a marksman from the way he held the rifle, sighting along it with care.

  Duardo took a step closer to the helicopter, then swung around to face the open doorway, his back to the rifleman. Calli heard the rifle fire. It sounded like a small thunderclap, complete with echo.

  Duardo jerked forward, his shoulder hitting the doorframe. He made a small grunting sound and fell over the seat, on top of Minnie.

  Nick let go of the controls, picked Minnie up and threw her onto the back seat. Then he grabbed Duardo, a hand under each arm, and hauled him into the seat. He lunged over the top of him, snagged the open door and shut it.

  Duardo moved slowly, sitting himself up in the seat.

  “Stay down!” Nick roared—to whom, Calli wasn’t sure. She stayed hunched and pulled Minnie down with her.

  The helicopter lifted. As soon as it gained height, Nick pushed the stick forward, dropping the nose and shooting them up and forward at a great speed. The engine screamed.

  She heard a quiet crack! A small, neat hole appeared in the screen just in front of Nick. Bullet hole, her dazed mind identified. Nick didn’t flinch. From her sideways angle, Calli didn’t see him blink, either. The steep ascent continued.

  “Calli!” Nick said, not looking around.

  “What?”

  “Pull off your tee-shirt. Get it behind him, put pressure on it. Hurry!”

  She struggled back onto the bench seat. She didn’t understand why he had given her such a strange order, yet hurried to obey.

  “No! Duardo!” Minnie screamed and tried to push past Callie into the front.

  Calli froze for a second as the truth slammed into her. “Ohmigod,” she whispered. She ripped off her jacket with trembling, thick-fingered hands. Then she stripped off her tee-shirt and wadded it into a ball.

  Minnie was in her way. Calli pulled her petite cousin back with a force that rammed her into the back wall. “I have to get to him,” she said, as an apology.

  Calli pushed through the seats, leaning on the console in the middle, her legs still dangling in the back and reached for Duardo.

  He lay slumped in the seat, his chin on his chest, his eyes closed. Her heart tightened and a watery, weak rush of adrenaline surged through her. “Duardo!” she called and tugged at his arm.

  No response.

  She grabbed a fistful of his tee-shirt and hauled on it. She had to get him leaned forward, so she could reach his back.

  His hand snagged her wrist, pulling her fingers from his shirt. He lifted his chin and looked at her and shook his head. A little drop of blood escaped the corner of his mouth.

  The surge of adrenaline swirled into a sickly panic.

  “No!” she shouted at him. “No!”

  “Minnie,” he said, then swallowed, his throat working.

  Nick’s hand dropped onto Calli’s shoulder. “Let Minnie through.”

  Calli gritted her teeth, shook her head. “No. I get the pad on, we get him somewhere.”

  “Calli,” Duardo said.

  She looked at him, ready to battle it out with him, too. They would get him somewhere. Things would be okay. This was real life. Not the eleven o’clock news. He would be just fine, goddammit.

  Duardo smiled. “La dama fuerte. Thank you for not letting go.”

  She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Pressure building in her chest and stomach jammed up everything.

  Nick’s hand on her arm. Pulling her up. Pushing her to the back seat.

  She fell onto the cushion, still clutching her balled up tee-shirt, her limbs as useless as a stringless marionette’s. Her hand hurt with the force of her clenching yet she didn’t let go of the tee-shirt.

  Minnie squirmed through the opening in the seats. Calli watched through the seats as her cousin lay across Duardo’s lap, smoothed his brow and kissed him. She patted his shoulder while her throat worked, as if she couldn’t speak the words building there. Her eyes were wide, their focus on him fierce.

  Duardo ruffled her hair. “I regret...” He took a slow, struggling breath. “English...agh,” he whispered. Then, “Nick?”

  Nick stared straight ahead, his face a mask. “Sí, Duardo?”

  “Dile que estaba equivocada…Si no hubiera insistido en cumplir con mi deber, habría tenido la alegría de ser su marido. Incluso un solo día. Yo habría estado orgulloso.”

  Minnie’s face crumpled and she wept, showing she had understood part of it. Enough of it.

  Nick took a breath and swallowed. “Minnie, he said, ‘Tell her I was wrong. If I had not insisted on doing my duty, then I would have had the joy
of being her husband.—’”

  Minnie gave a choked cry as Duardo’s head rolled to one side.

  “‘Even a single day. I would have been proud,’” Nick finished, his voice a flat rasp.

  Minnie buried her head against Duardo’s chest, holding him.

  Calli watched, too numb with shock to comfort her.

  Beside the silent pair, Nick reached up and thumped the door frame with the side of his fist. Once. Twice. And a third time that traveled through the metal and made the craft shiver.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They landed on the same square of concrete they had lifted off from that morning. Only then did the horrible silence in the cockpit break.

  Nick lifted Minnie away from Duardo’s body, as soldiers raced across the concrete and opened the door on that side. Two of them had a stretcher. They eased Duardo out of the seat and lay him on the canvas.

  Nick held Minnie against him. She was limp in his arms and did not protest as the soldiers carried the stretcher away. Nor did she resist when he opened his door and lifted her onto the concrete beside him.

  He looked at Calli then, his expression bleak. “Come.”

  Calli maneuvered her cramped body to the concrete, surprised she could move at all, or that she could stand. She tugged at her crumpled tee-shirt, only now having the elbowroom to straighten it up. She didn’t bother tucking it back into her jeans.

  Somewhere in the last few hours, the elastic holding her braid had snapped or been pulled off and her hair had unraveled. The ends brushed her elbows. She pushed it back tiredly.

  Nick took her arm and Minnie’s too, then led them over to the row of cars. He called out to the soldier standing guard.

  “El sedán de BMW, señor!” a soldier answered.

  “Keys?” Nick asked. “Las llaves?” he added.

  “Sí señor!” The soldier turned and ran.

  Nick directed them to the dark blue BMW the soldier had recommended for its power and good handling, the two qualities Nick had specified. “Get in,” he told them. “I’ll get you back to the apartment and then off the island. It’s no longer safe for you here.”

  Calli slid onto the front passenger seat. Nick helped Minnie into the back then settled behind the wheel. The soldier dropped the keys into his hand. He shut the door, started the car and backed out.