Belmopan

by B French

  from below. From the bowels of the pulled from in front of the ferried SUV allowing it passage to the Highway. Unimpeded, it headed north along the Western Highway toward San Ignacio, the second Gazelle helicopter followed at a distance. The other two vehicles were impounded, their occupants incarcerated, for now.

  As the black, Tahoe SUV entered San Ignacio, the Gazelle was rerouted. “That is why we have diplomatic status,” Doug stated, as he patted blood from the remaining half of his ear, watching as the helicopter headed south back toward Xunantunich.

  The custodian sat motionless, emotionless, carefree to the ill-fated ceremony. “I will need your help when we get back to Belmopan to ensure anonymity.”

  “Yes sir,” Doug replied, watching the sun filter through the clouds.

  The foothills of the mountains morphed into rolling, emerald mounds that adorned the retreating countryside of Santa Elena. Trepidation crept in as Doug considered the ramifications of this failure and how he would replenish this lack condition as quickly as possible. He would need Amalia.

  TWELVE Henry watched from his second floor office window as a lone, black SUV skirted the perimeter of the Government Compound. He felt a twinge of nervousness as he reflected on the previous days’ ruse, or meeting, he had arranged for Magnus with the American. Mag was a good friend and a refusal for the request was not a consideration, even if it put his reputation in question or even his life at risk.

  As the black vehicle disappeared down the sloped drive that entered the bowels of the parking area of the compound, Henry reached for the phone and tried without success to the number Mag had left for him. Placing the phone back in his upper pocket, he pondered the ramifications of his actions of setting the meeting up with Doug, and pulled the roll-chair from its resting place. Sitting behind his desk, the musty smell of the manila folders reminded him of the extent of time with which they had remained. Stacks twelve high denoted the backlog of unprocessed data of a dozen digs throughout Belize and Guatemala; he ran his fingers through his thinning hair and pushed his spectacles up the long bridge of his nose.

  The Military attachment had retreated from their standoff position at the ferry crossing to Xunantunich, and the local police had started in the recovery and impoundment of the vehicles that had barred the entranceway to the site. Ocho, and his band of men, had discreetly retreated into the surrounding jungle and regrouped at an unknown location, spirited away in the belly of a Gazelle.

  Below the faç ade of the Castillo Temple, police and emergency personnel wandered the area taking statements from the group of individuals that had gathered around the emergency vehicles. A stretcher lay empty beside the lifeless body of Juan as the coroner inspected the wound that has caused his death. Amalia, close by with Edmundo, rested on her knees and watched as they loaded Juan’s body onto the stretcher and covered him with a sheet. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and her body gently raked with each sob. Confused, she was not sure whether she cried from grief, regret or release. A long and sordid relationship had finally come to a close. Her heart remembered a time when she was young, naive and in love; her tears washed away the memories of a wasted life and the lost years she yearned to retrieve. Edmundo remained close.

  As detectives guided the two ceremonial priests from the steps of the Temple, another lifted the cooler that held the organ and a box of evidence, from step to descending step.

  “Did you find the young boy who was up there as well,” Brian asked, holding Shawna steady by his side.

  “Non, Senor. No little boy.”

  Beneath a propped up canvas that protected them from a light rain that fell in the late afternoon, they watched as the chaotic scene that surrounded them slowly deflated to a tolerable level. The temperature had not yet cooled into the evening, and the breeze that would carry the heat of the day out to the coast had not stirred. It was very humid and Shawna was slow in the recovery from her drowsiness; she sipped on a bottle of water and continued to gather her wits.

  “How did you find me,” she asked, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

  “It wasn’t that hard, only months of study and researching all the sites in Central America.” He played with the edge of the loincloth that hung between his legs. “It was a bit of luck actually. Steve and I ran into Edmundo, and his crew, at a hotel in Santa Elena.”

  “Who’s Steve?”

  “He’s my brother-in-law, remember, from the boat ride in Victoria?” He eased his assertion, sensing her struggle to recollect. “You’ll meet him later.”

  Shawna squeezed his arm and dipped her head shyly. She cuddled close, “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Not too far distant, Magnus was close at hand beside Owen, listening as the interrogator questioned him as to his involvement. “We will have to confiscate your camera and its contents for evidence,” the man demanded in a monotone as he scribbled notes down on his pad.

  “You can’t. This is private property and a valued asset,” Owen retorted with distain.

  “It will be all right,” encouraged Magnus. “I’ll see to it that it gets returned to you.”

  “And who in the bloody hell are you,” returned Owen in a thick Cockney drawl. Pulling a white hanky from his shirt pocket, he wiped the sweat from his brow?

  “I’m one of the archaeological directors, and someone who will decide if and when this will be returned to you.”

  Owen nodded sheepishly while Magnus gave the interrogator a nod.

  “Can I borrow you’re phone to make one call,” Magnus asked of the officer?

  Handing the phone to Mag, he returned to asking Owen more questions and how he happened to be at the site.

  Slowly approaching Brian and Shawna, Magnus gave him a big smile. “You Canadians show up in the darndest places, and in the cutest outfits.” He looked down to the breastplate and oversized cloth dangling freely between his legs.

  “And you Dr. Magnus, know how to through the wildest parties.” They gave each other’s hands a firm squeeze and shake. “This is Shawna, Magnus. She is the reason I am here.”

  “Yes, I know. We just spent some quality time together,” Magnus stated with an air of admiration. “You, are one-hell-of-a young lady. ‘Pillars of the Moon”, back to its home.” He swayed his head from side to side. “I am so pleased this has turned out the way it has. When they took you this morning and left me in the van, I was sure I would never see you again.” A fatherly smile broke across his face. “The heavens were at war this day.”

  Shawna blushed and shrank from his assertion, still overwhelmed by the circumstances and her physical condition.

  “Forgive me, my dear. I have you at a disadvantage. I have been able to learn more of the circumstances surrounding your abduction and the conditions prior. Even though we could not talk much at the time of our incarceration, I was aware of the Pillars, and also the true purpose of your kidnapping.”

  “Nothing surprises me anymore, and I think I know a little more of you now, Doctor, than you give me credit for,” she said teasingly with a smile. “I could not have lasted through all of this without your help, and for this, I must thank you.”

  “Perhaps, we can talk more a little later. I am about to phone Henry, an old friend in Belmopan, to reassure him of my condition. We will all be heading to Belmopan shortly to help the police determine what just happened and what to release to the papers. Owen,” Magnus looked in his direction, “will have to come to terms with the reality of the idiom, ‘freedomof-the-press.”

  “I hope they allow us the luxury of a change of clothes,” Brian retorted, flapping the cloth vigorously.

  They all started to laugh, more out of nervous reaction to the extreme emotion of the last hours than the immediate spectacle.

  “From what I gather, we will all be accompanied by a constable for the time-being, until we are debriefed at the Police Headquarters, or the Ministry; I’m not sure which.”

  “Joy!”

  “It won’t be all that bad Brian. Y
ou and Steve should be absolved of all charges, if any, in regard to your conduct here. The Department of Defense will take care of the rest.” Magnus looked a Shawna, and wondered at her native beauty and the resemblance to his daughter and wife. “Where will you be taking her,” he asked of Brian, looking warmly to Shawna.

  “We have rooms at the Aguada, in Santa Elena.”

  “I know it well. I will see you there.”

  Steve rested in the yellow, rental car in the parking lot, with his swollen ankle elevated up on the dash. The flurry of activity had passed him by as the police retrieved the incarcerated goons from the van. Assurances over the radio had left him relatively at ease amid the gunfire and flurry of events up through the jungle beyond his sights. He watched intently as the ambulance and Police cars came and went along the access road to the rear of the Castillo. It was only when Brian, arm in arm with a visibly shaken Shawna, appeared, did he attempt to arouse from his position in the car. Slipping out of the seat with several bottles of water in his hand, he limped to the couple as they entered the periphery of the parking lot.

  “I’m happy to see you Shawna,” Steve asserted, as they all met just beyond the hood of the car.

  “I’m very pleased to see you as well Steve. It has been some time and distance from Port Angeles,” she sighed, leaning close into Brian.

  He smiled and nodded gently as Magnus, Amalia and Edmundo sauntered up to the car from the pathway beyond the parking lots edge. Several police officers slowed and paused at a short distance to light cigarettes.

  As Edmundo approached, Shawna broke her grip from Brian and came to stand in front of Edmundo. With near tears in his eyes, “We have yet again thwarted the gods of a tasty morsel. They will not be pleased.”

  With a smile and tears welling in her eyes, she embraced him hard, “Thanks Mundie.” After several moments, she released him and motioned for Brian to take her side. “This is Brian, the fellow I told you about from Canada.”

  “Yeah, I know. We have been hanging close these last few hours.” Mundie reached forward and gave Brian a light punch in the shoulder. “It has been a pleasure to get to know him.”

  Noticing Amalia standing to the rear and somewhat out of place, Brian called her forward and introduced her to Shawna; Edmundo slipped his arm around Amalia for support. Magnus puffed on a cigarette and motioned to Steve to come over and made comment about his leg, and the bluish color of his ankle. He took a bottle from Steve.

  Within minutes, the chief investigative officer came to the group and announced they could leave. “Do you all have rides?”

  “You can ride with us Mag, since you’re heading back to the Aguada,” Brian offered.

  “I’ll go back to the San Ignacio with Amalia, if we can get a ride.” Edmundo stated, looking to some of the abandoned vehicles left in the parking lot, and throwing Steve the keys to his pickup.

  “Follow me,” the officer suggested and motioned with his hand.

  “These officers will accompany you into town and wait till we head back to Belmopan tomorrow. I must ask you not to leave the area, and you must inform the officer assigned to you if you need to communicate outside the area. We will meet at the Police Station in San Ignacio, in several hours; approximately 7:00 pm.”

  Amalia and Edmundo followed the Chief to a waiting Land Rover and disappeared into the back seat. Nearby, the musicians, and the entourage that had accompanied the celebratory events, were being loaded, under guard, into the back of a military truck. They did not look too festive. Magnus crammed into the back of the compact, yellow Fiesta, while Brian helped Shawna into the passenger’s seat and proceeded to the drivers. As they retreated from the lot, a Howler monkey began his call to dominance and proclaimed his territory once again. A brightly colored, Keelbilled, Toucan dipped and fluttered to perch in the boughs of a Cohune Palm; the sun began to dip beneath the forest’s canopy of the temple’s plateau.

  The Aguada Hotel was well lit and festive when they arrived at the parking lot forty minutes later. Laughter and music boomed from under the thatch of the out-door lounge. The tin-pan ponged and reggae music spilled out into the night air like a fresh breeze off the cayo on a moon-lit night. Exhausted from the ordeal of the previous days, Magnus and Shawna headed through the screen door to the restaurant. Brian and Steve gathered some things and went to talk to the constables assigned to the group, who had pulled up to beside Mundy’s blue pick-up. Shawna, now more like herself, sat in the cool of the corner and waited for one of the waitresses to accommodate the two of them.

  “Coke, with lots of ice,” escaped from Shawna’s mouth with a determination that left no doubt.

  “Ice tea, with a little ice,” Magnus iterated with resolve as if to mock Shawna. She questionably looked at him. “I’ll have a drink a little later,” he replied, knowing that tea would seem an oddity for him.

  She placed her elbows on the table and slowly ran her fingers through her matted hair. She looked down at her soiled and worn clothes that had been supplied by one of the female attendants at the Castillo. “I smell terrible.”

  “No matter how bad you smell, you will never smell as bad as I do.”

  They both were laughing as Brian and Steve entered through the screen door from the lot. “Do we look that funny,” Steve asked?

  ‘Yep,” blurted from Shawna’s mouth without hesitation. Brian came along side and plunked himself down in the chair. “Boy, what a treat we must be. Look at us.”

  They all looked at one-another and burst out laughing. Patrons around the room became aware of the oddity of the four and gave side glances and smiles till Jackson came along side.

  “Well, what a sorry bunch of hoodlums you four look like.” He had a tray with a couple of cervasa perched in the center. Plunking them down he asked, “Can I make a suggestion for you? Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up before my restaurant vacates. In the meantime, I’ll get the kitchen to make up some primo enchiladas, some guacamole dip and salad; a spread that will be fit for kings, and queens.” Jackson looked down at them as if no was not an option.

  “Thanks,” Magnus replied with a smile that spoke reams of understanding.

  They drank heartily for several minutes till Steve and Magnus left respectfully to their rooms. Shawna and Brian were left at the table.

  “I have a suite upstairs with a shower,” Brian stated with a shy, but willing smile.

  “Is there room for two?”

  The San Ignacio Resort was well lit up from the outside as Amalia and Edmundo were let off at the entrance. A constable exited from the opposite side of the vehicle and entered the foyer to place himself in a chair close to the front desk.

  From his and Brian’s earlier presence in the hotel, Edmundo knew the layout and did not need direction in escorting Amalia to her room upstairs. Visibly shaken and worn from the day’s activity, she stood trembling, uncertain as what to do.

  “Would you like me to come in for a bit while you shower and get ready?”

  She took his hand and guided him to the door. Swiping the card before the photo-sensitive eye of the passage set, a green LED light illuminated ushering them to open passage.

  “Make your-self comfortable on the balcony while I sort out the mess that Doug left this morning,” Amalia started to gather up garments that were strewn over beds and chairs alike. “If you’d like a drink, there may be some beer in the fridge.”

  He scanned the wall unit for a cabinet door big enough to hide the unit. Amalia, in the alcove that housed the dresser, began to stuff crumpled clothes in the drawers while simultaneously removing the ones that she wore. Edmundo, not wishing to invade her privacy, twisted the cap off and began to proceed to the balcony.

  “Could you bring me one?”

  Nearly choking on a half swallowed swig of beer, he managed, “Now?”

  Placing his beer on the coffee table, he crept back to the fridge and popped another cap from a bottle; he could feel his heart starting to race. Amalia, with
her back to him, slipped herself out of her under garments and walked from behind the bed to face him. Not knowing how to react and where to put his eyes, he stared directly into the ebony darkness of hers, and wondered at their sparkle. In his peripheral vision, his mind was making mental note of her flawless, firm swimmers body. She took the bottle from his near trembling hand, kissed him on the cheek, and disappeared through a door that must have been the bathroom. Edmundo stood motionless for what must have been a full minute before retracing his steps to the coffee table, his beer, and ultimately the balcony. The last vision he saw of Amalia, was her beautiful back, discolored and bruised from a beating she must have taken in the immediate past. Anger began to build in him for this man called, Doug.

  Belmopan Catacombs

  As Doug patted the blood from the side of his jaw below the missing piece of his ear, anger began to replace the confusion he had felt for the disruption and abortion of the ceremony. His contempt for the whole situation with the custodian was beginning to fray his already raw nerves. Juan and Amalia had done their last to aggravate an already crumbling relationship that should have ended years before.