The sound of Ben’s voice echoed, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact source. He feared that the sound was merely a trick, a recording, a forgery, or, worse still, his own mind playing tricks on him.
With the fires burning, his view across the chamber was limited; the smoke was becoming denser, the nearby heat causing his eyes to water. As Ben’s voice repeated the same words, he looked further to his right, an area where the fires were lower. A face was looking across at him: white, brown-haired, instantly familiar. He squinted, fearing he was seeing things.
“Ben?”
Ben replied, “Chris. Are you okay? Come over here; I can explain everything.”
A flood of emotions hit Chris without warning, causing his mouth to go dry and his heart rate to accelerate. Ben disappeared briefly behind the flames, appearing again slightly closer.
Again, Cortés shouted across the chamber, “I would have thought by now your friend would have told you the truth of what happened down in that mine. Surely she has already told you about her encounter with your cousin earlier today?”
A gust of air caused the flames to move around him, blowing unsettlingly close to Chris’s face. Blinking rapidly, his eyes watering, he looked to his left and saw Valeria was staring back at him, her face bright like a rabbit caught in headlights. Not for the first time, he felt incapable of speaking, as though a thousand thoughts had struck him all at once, each trying to get their point across.
“You knew he was alive?”
Valeria hesitated. “This man left me and Ben tied up to die at our lighthouse. His father killed my father. All my life I’ve been running from him. I thought they were dead.”
“Chris, come up here.” Ben’s voice echoed across the void. “Now isn’t the time or the place.”
Valeria grabbed hold of Chris’s hands. “Chris, please, believe me, I didn’t want to trouble you with this burden. You weren’t there. You don’t know how it felt down there, seeing all those bodies lying there.”
“Do not be taken in by her lies,” Cortés barked. “The slimy eel is cunning. She would leave you here to die, just like she did your cousin.”
*
Valeria felt as though her whole world were crashing down around her. Something had changed in Chris’s eyes, a subtle difference – she reassured herself it was merely a product of the light.
Across the chamber, Cortés and Ben were still talking; it was obvious that their words were having their desired effect on Chris’s attitude. Chris’s jaw had tightened, his eyes watered; again she put it down to the smoky surroundings.
He asked again, “You knew he was alive?”
“Chris . . .”
“Tell me the truth . . .”
Cortés’s voice cut him off. “Now is not the time for such discussions. It will be dark within one hour; the route back through the mountain is not one best suited for the darkness. Save your anger for nightfall. Right now, we must leave.”
“Juan’s right, Chris,” Ben agreed. “Come up here and we can talk.”
“I assure you no harm will come to either of you,” Cortés continued. “Give me the manuscript and the stones; in return, I shall let your family go.”
Valeria felt a chill run down her spine on hearing the word family, cold despite the close intense heat. She had left Elena resting in the church, holding her rosary and praying.
“Abuela?” she cried out. “What have you done with her?”
A female voice answered her, devastatingly familiar. She saw a shadow moving close to Maria, then a human face. Elena was there.
Valeria swore at Cortés in Spanish.
“I have told you already the price of your freedom,” Juan replied, his expression uncompromising. “I am willing to co-operate, but my terms are set. Hand me the manuscript you took from the bank. Together we can return for the stones.”
“You saw Ben today?” Chris asked.
Valeria looked desperately at Chris, her eyes pleading for understanding. She shouted, “Abuela, are you okay?”
Elena replied in English. “Valeria, do not be taken in, child. The great treasures are all that matter. Do not give in to his manipulations.”
Cortés drew a gun from his belt and drove the barrel firmly into Elena’s neck. “I have warned you once of the penalty of getting in my way. Tell your granddaughter to co-operate. Otherwise, I assure you the price will be severe.”
Elena stared at Juan, her eyes oozing venom, her pulse beating against the barrel of the gun. From the other side of the chamber, Valeria watched despondently, fearing her heart was about to explode. Her hands shook, her lips quivered. She saw movement coming from her right, a face visible in the light. Someone was approaching.
Instinctively, she removed Colts’s revolver from her pocket and fired.
49
Eduardo saw Valeria raise her gun and snap her finger down on to the trigger. He dived to his left, landing awkwardly.
He had already hit the ground by the time she fired.
The floor was rough and uneven, causing cuts to his skin as he rolled. Scrambling, he cocked his gun and ran for the nearest shelter, a tall area of rock close to the fires.
Glancing up, he saw it was a statue of a god.
Edging to his right, he gazed through the flames. Valeria fired. He ducked instinctively; further sparks bounced off the walls behind him.
He held his breath, keeping low until the gunfire stopped.
Any mistakes and he knew he was dead.
*
Cortés dived instinctively, his muscular frame coming down hard against the floor. His deeply instilled defence mechanism had gone into overdrive. The sound was deafening, echoing for several seconds. As the gunfire continued, he realised he had not been the target.
The question was, who had been?
The old woman was bellowing in his ear; he had been standing so close to her, she had joined him on his journey to the floor. He looked and saw her lying in a daze, crimson-coloured blotches staining her hands. He saw further blood spilling from her right temple, staining her dark blouse. Maria rushed towards her and cradled her in her arms. Crying.
Rising to his feet, Cortés saw sparks beyond the fires, the majority coming from the outer walls. He sprinted to the right side of the chamber and looked around, using the long line of torches as cover.
The chamber’s layout reminded him of the model room, the torches and the depth of the pits the only difference. He had learned as a young boy that knowledge could often be the difference between life and death. He exhaled gratefully, knowing God had blessed him.
He would be able to find his way without difficulty.
Valeria was firing at Eduardo; only his nephew could be stupid enough to get himself in such a mess. He wanted to talk to him, get a message across.
Without a phone signal, he knew he would have to rely on the old-fashioned method.
He sensed movement behind him and turned quickly, prepared to fire. Ben appeared alongside him, sweat falling from his forehead.
“Whatever you do, don’t fire at Chris. I told you he was being manipulated.”
Cortés called his bluff. “The friend of the enemy is no friend of mine. He is old enough to choose his own path.”
“Do you really want to risk an open gunfight in here anyway?”
Cortés gazed back at him, his strong eyebrows dripping sweat. “I find it extremely unlikely the slimy eel is in league with a professional arms dealer. Let her waste her bullets and she will be at our mercy.”
Ben couldn’t fault the logic. He assumed she had taken the bullets from Colts, along with the gun.
He had no idea what kind of ammunition the archaeologist had been packing.
Together, they stared across the chamber. Valeria was still firing at the left wall, sparks rebounding off the epic decorations.
“Cover me. I’m going for Chris.”
Cortés aimed his own weapon at Valeria and fired, narrowly missing. “All right. Just don’t say
I didn’t warn you.”
*
Ben took a deep breath and ran along the right side of the chamber, keeping close to the wall. He knew from having examined the layout higher up that he would be faced with two choices: to continue close to the side until the path eventually led him to the closed doorway where he had last seen Chris or come infield where the pathways crossed the heart of the chamber like part of a gigantic maze.
Either way, he risked becoming a target himself.
Choosing the first option, he kept low as he approached the far wall. Bullets ricocheted off the rocks above him, far too high to pose an imminent danger. Debris fell quickly, dirtying his face and jacket. He brushed his hair away from his face and slouched at the base of the nearest torch.
He realised Cortés had a point.
*
Valeria had already fired twice by the time she saw Eduardo’s face. The last time she had seen him, he was still in junior school, a skinny runt with greasy hair.
Little had changed.
She pulled the trigger a third time before pausing for breath. She felt Chris’s presence to her left, his lack of a firearm now a cause for concern.
The gun held six bullets, she had reloaded it only once since obtaining it from Colts. The pouch contained a further twelve, which meant she had fifteen more in total.
She knew she would have to be efficient with what remained.
Using the nearby pillar as cover, she crouched down low and loaded three extra bullets into the cylinder.
She gestured Chris nearer. “We cannot stay here.”
Chris looked back indifferently, his eyes still haunted by recent betrayals. “You heard what he just said. Just give him the map and he won’t hurt anyone.”
She didn’t reply immediately. Though she knew recent revelations had caused Chris to re-evaluate the past, she also knew that her own ghosts dated from a past much longer gone. To her the choice was simple. Give up or die trying.
She knew her grandmother would understand.
Sparks flew up off the walls, the echo of recent gunshots piercing. She held her hands to her ears and crouched into a squatting position.
Chris grabbed her arm and pulled her violently. “Will you look at yourself for a second? He has your family. He’ll kill them if you don’t agree.”
Valeria’s expression hardened. She looked back at him, her eyes focused, her concentration resolute. She rose cautiously to her feet, rejecting Chris’s outstretched arm.
“Not if I kill him first.”
*
Danny was scared out of his wits. Even though the gunfire wasn’t aimed at him, the acoustics of the grand chamber caused sounds to carry, each one unnerving.
He hadn’t moved since making his way up the stairway, following the leadership of others. Unintentionally, he now found himself cut off from everyone else.
Maria and Elena were the only people near him. Maria was weeping, using her designer scarf as an improvised bandage for her grandmother’s head.
Even from a distance it was obvious that she was still bleeding.
He hurried towards them, staying low. “We have to get out of here.”
Maria scorned his advance, her eyes remaining focused on Elena. The old woman was still to shed any tears. She insulted him in Spanish.
“Please. He’ll be back any second. Do you really want to take a chance waiting?”
*
Maria was officially through with everything. Life in Mérida was far from perfect, but even a year with Javi had done nothing to prepare her for what she had experienced during the last twenty-four hours.
The smoke had cleared slightly, allowing her a better view across the strange temple-like chamber. Juan was on the warpath, running, gun pointed, clearly searching for Valeria. The sights and sounds had made her numb.
It was as though she were participating in her worst nightmare.
And there were no guarantees she would wake up to tell the tale.
She recalled her first experience of Danny three years earlier, back at the Gibbous Moon when she had visited her sister. He had been kind to her then, polite, attentive, the type of man who was a great friend of women, a charmer of women, but didn’t have the first clue what to do with one. She flirted with him then, but only for entertainment. She needed a man to dominate her, win her heart.
Her mother had taught her never to trust weak men.
She saw him offer his hand, urging her to leave. For the first time, she detected strength in him, that he was steadfast in his decision. All around her, the gunfire continued, sparks flying. She looked at Elena lying weak in her arms. He was right, she decided.
They might not get another chance.
*
Elena’s head hurt, but she recalled experiencing far worse. She had just been old enough to remember the Second World War; the terrifying sound of bombs exploding around her Dutch grandmother’s quayside house still echoed in her nightmares. The present experience was similar, but not quite so intimidating.
Nothing could ever compare to the traumas of war.
She rejected Danny’s offer of a hand and allowed Maria to help her to her feet. Across the chamber, she saw figures moving, one of them obviously Cortés. Passionate thoughts suddenly filled her mind; visions of the past returned. If the man had his way, she would die, her granddaughters with her.
The great deceiver would claim the treasure of her ancestor.
Ignoring the pleas of her granddaughter, she hurried along the right pathway in the direction of the closed doorway.
*
Ben had no firearm. An hour earlier, he had never considered the need for one. The episode in Cornwall had been out of the blue, unlikely ever to be repeated.
He cursed the situation he now found himself in.
Valeria was firing wildly at the opposite wall, where Eduardo had previously been hiding. He hated the way the artwork was being decimated before his eyes, irreplaceable scenes from history falling to the floor like redundant plaster. For the first time he wished he were armed, if not to save himself but the location.
Won’t someone shoot the bitch?
He saw movement at the centre of the chamber. A second man, dark hair, also named Cortés. Valeria had spotted Eduardo again as he inched his way along one of the pathways; she had been so preoccupied keeping an eye on him that she had entirely neglected to pick up on Juan’s latest position.
Taking advantage of Valeria’s lack of awareness, Ben crept ever closer to the end wall. He held his breath as he reached the point where the pathway turned at a right angle to the left and paused behind a large statue of the Aztec god of rain.
A series of shadows moved against the far wall, materialising into a solid form against the fiery backdrop. Back to the statue, heart in mouth, he looked to his left, ready to pounce.
*
Chris knew he needed to move. Staying with Valeria was simply no longer an option. As far as he could tell, she was Cortés’s only target; he was just a bystander.
He couldn’t believe she had lied to him.
Valeria opened fire again, narrowly missing Eduardo. As the young man returned fire, she sought refuge behind the stone body of the nearest torch, reloaded and moved fast to her right, unleashing further bullets.
Now was the time, he decided.
There would be no long goodbye.
*
There were nine bullets remaining, three of which were already loaded.
Only two would be necessary.
Valeria knew she would not need to use any on the others.
The longer she remained where she was, the worse her chances were of survival. It was simple logic. The area surrounding the doorway was well lit, the brightest area of the chamber.
Taking a moment to reload, she sprang to her feet and darted to her right, seeking out the corner of the chamber where the light was less generous. She cocked the gun and sprinted, shouting for Chris to follow her.
As she looked over her
shoulder, she realised he had vanished.
*
“Abuela!”
Danny grabbed Maria’s hand and held her tightly from behind. He refused to let go despite her furious attempts to wriggle free, her feet kicking out as she tried to break loose.
He reaffirmed his grip and held her by her shoulders, his eyes staring deeply into hers. He thought the floodgates were about to reopen; thankfully she held it together.
“Come on! Let’s get you out. I’ll come back for Abuela.”
*
Ben saw the figure emerge into the light, his features revealed for the first time.
Realistically, he knew there was only one person it could be.
Chris froze; the last thing he had expected was to see Ben hiding behind the corner.
Ben examined him closely. The boy was tired, his face drawn, his hair slightly dishevelled. As far as Ben could tell, he had sustained no serious injury.
“How’s your guts?”
Chris was stuck for words. He gazed down at Ben’s jeans, noticing a large bloodstain where the recent wound had reopened.
“Better than your leg.” He grinned.
Ben folded his arms and smiled back. Five days had passed, but it seemed like a lot longer. Chris was looking well, considering. His arms were dirty, especially around his triceps, his clothes dusty from being below ground.
Fatigue aside, he remained the same old Chris.
Chris made a similar assessment of Ben’s state of health. His cousin was cleaner by comparison, albeit sweatier. Large beads of the stuff were falling from his hair that was looking dishevelled and unkempt.
Still handsome though, he had to admit.
The sound of another gunshot reverberated across the chamber. Ben ducked instinctively before peering cautiously through the flames. He saw two shadows ghosting along the far wall, approaching one another.
The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation Page 61