The gaunt proprietor behind a homemade wood table greeted him with a nod and a lack of curiosity that Diego considered a plus. At one time his shirt had been orange. After a brief discussion the man accepted his credit card, but limited the amount to a hundred nuevos soles.
“Do you have a phone?” he asked.
“Across the way.”
Children accompanied him to the general store, a plywood structure with a sagging roof and unscreened windows. Mercedes joined him as he entered.
“You look better,” she whispered.
Inside they found canned goods, overripe bananas and hard candy wrapped in cellophane. Some shelves held soaps and creams and second-hand clothes. He asked the woman for ten handfuls of candy. One brave child stepped forward to accept the bag. Then the children ran as a pack into the main street, the only street, squealing and jostling each other for a share of the sweets.
He had bought privacy and he hoped, made them happy.
Linking to the American embassy required fifteen minutes. He identified himself and asked to speak to the ambassador mentioning that he and the ambassador had met.
“Señor Castilla, I regret to inform you that the ambassador is out of the country.”
“I am calling to report the theft of artifacts from a previously undiscovered site.” His next contact assured Diego that immediate action would be taken.
“Where are you now, sir?”
He gave the specifics as dictated by the storekeeper. Suddenly, Mercedes’ eyes widened in horror and she shoved him into a corner.
“The colonel!”
He covered the mouthpiece. “Did he see you?”
“No. He went into the hotel. He’s dumped the uniform and had a haircut.”
Diego updated the embassy. But the colonel’s presence created an immediate threat and he disconnected.
“What’s that bastard doing here?” Mercedes whispered. “Do you think he’s alone?”
“Remy could not have paid him. He needs time to reach the black market. He must be waiting for something or someone.”
“What’s our next move?”
“To take him alive.”
* * *
He and Mercedes mingled with bird watchers and social studies teachers as they arrived. She let it be known that they were waiting for the nighttime caiman hunt mentioned by an earlier tour guide.
But the population thinned too quickly and as the sun set they hovered near the jungle to be less conspicuous. She snacked on a rice and meat dish bought from a stand.
“Why are we hiding? He’s the crook.”
“He is armed.” Diego kissed her forehead. “We will wait for him to leave the hotel.”
“Why wait? I am here.”
Mercedes’ dinner flew into the air. When they turned, the colonel faced them, his gun aimed at her.
“When the children say the ghost man give candy, I am curious. I come see for self.”
“You can’t kill us here,” Mercedes said. “Somebody will turn you in.”
“You are right. We go to boat.” He jabbed the gun against her ribs, but his black eyes glued themselves to Diego. “Vampiro, walk first.”
At the end of the now empty dock they boarded the only remaining craft--a battered cabin cruiser. Low branches swept the bow. Cargo that had not been there when they arrived now stacked the deck. Remy stumbled out of the cabin and plowed into Mercedes. The colonel jerked her to his chest. In the seconds when the gun left her ribs, Diego struck him down with the back of his hand. His fleshy cheek had been hot and soft.
Remy dropped the bottle of rum in a dash for the dock. Mercedes, already on the floor, tripped him then smashed the bottle against his shoulder. He cried out when his collarbone cracked.
Diego seized the colonel first then Procteur holding them by the scruff of their necks. Their legs danced a polka trying to find a solid perch. The caiman touring boat turned the bend and caught them in its spotlight.
“Check for weapons,” Diego told her.
Tourist voices sharp with alarm carried across the water. The boat’s engines fell to idle and cameras rolled as Mercedes patted down their prisoners.
“Where’s the gun?”
She found it near the bottle. “Want me to keep it?”
“No, mi amor. Rest it on the crate away from our enemigos.”
Remy, stinking of rum, tried to wrench Diego’s hand away. “Wha. . .What are you going to do?”
“Give you to the caimanes.”
The colonel writhed feeling for the knife tucked in his belt. Mercedes beat him to the weapon.
“What’s next?” she asked.
“Bind their hands and feet.”
“With pleasure.” She cut rope from a nearby coil. Afterwards, breathless from the exertion, her skin glowed in the lantern light, flushed with victory.
The tour boat anchored. Diego was sure their images flashed across the rainforest possibly farther. Maybe onto YouTube.
In the meantime the shore had filled with silent witnesses. They were big news and news traveled fast. Kids of all ages ran alongside two village guards whose authority came from the automatic rifles they held ready to fire. Until the men opened one of the crates, he and Mercedes stood with their hands in the air. Then they were allowed to show their credit cards and her New York driver’s license.
The community leader arrived annoyed at having to jostle his way through the crowd. He regarded Diego with a cold eye and spoke in English. “Who are you?”
Diego identified himself and Mercedes. “My prisoner is Remy Procteur and the other man is also a thief.”
“I am the alcalde, the mayor.” He wiped sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his fine linen shirt. He ordered one of the patrolmen to open another crate. The man leaped to the task and raised the lid then grimaced.
“One of the mummies,” Diego said. “There are two more.”
“Es vampiro! Es vampiro!” Remy shouted. “He’s a vampire! Kill him!”
“Idiota!” replied the mayor. Bystanders laughed. The guards merely stared. The mayor ordered one of the men to stay with the shipment. The other kept his weapon trained on Remy and the colonel and stood guard after they were locked in a shed with bars on the windows. The alcalde, Diego and Mercedes reassembled in the boarding house. On his order the community had to wait outside.
Children pressed close to the two open windows. Someone hung lanterns. Pale-winged moths gathered in the light. One chair occupied the hotel’s anteroom and the mayor occupied it.
They answered questions until midnight when he ordered them to sleep on the floor. Around five-thirty in the morning a red-faced gringo and a younger man with long black hair pushed past the village breakfast crowd that had regrouped outside the hotel.
“Dr. Gasta at your service. My associate with the serious expression is a graduate student from the university working on his Masters. He’s assisting with our dig. We’re working a site upriver.”
The mayor hurried into the room from the back of the building where he had snoozed on a cot. “What are you doing here?” he asked. He rubbed swollen eyes.
“I came to see if what we heard is true.” He presented documents to the mayor who nodded and ordered a coffee from a man in the crowd.
The professor looked at Diego. “Who’re you?”
He obliged and explained how they came to be in the village. Diego gave the professor the same edited version he had given the mayor. “The artifacts are still on the boat. There are three mummies.”
“Intact?”
“Yes.”
“Too good to be true! Where’s the site?”
“In the jungle.”
He laughed, which turned his skin crimson.
“Professor, your phone, may I use it?”
“Yes, of course.”
Diego contacted the embassy. The authorities instructed them to stay in the village. He handed the phone to the mayor. “A Lieutenant Morelos wants to speak with you.”
; “What’s happening?” the professor asked.
The mayor returned the phone to Dr. Gasta. “There’s a military field sometimes used as an airport several miles downriver. Officials will land there before noon.”
“Excuse me professor,” Mercedes said, “but my sister hasn’t heard from me since we left Ciud’Ak. May I use your phone? It goes international, right?” He nodded. “I’ll pay for the minutes.”
“Not necessary.” Mercedes accepted the cell. “This event is quite exciting,” said the professor. “I’ll get a lot of mileage out of the story.”
She edged closer to the back room and dialed, but seeking privacy proved the act of an optimist. The audience moved as a unit to the screened rear windows and listened even though they could not understand the conversation. When Mercedes rejoined the group in the outer room, Diego surrendered to unspoken group pressure. He gave a quick summary in Spanish. Then he asked Mercedes for details.
“Annie kept things vague. When I mentioned transfusions, she told me not to nag, that she had learned her lesson.”
“Dr. Mendez is taking care of her. You know that he is doing his best.”
Both the mayor and the professor nodded approval and without asking the mayor shared the update with the crowd.
Mercedes continued, “Dave and Luz gave her a baby shower.”
“Is that good?” asked the mayor.
“Yes,” answered the professor. “It’s a party where the expectant mom gets gifts for the child.”
Diego informed the audience who murmured their delight.
Mercedes wiped a tear. “They did all the things I should have been doing.”
“What else did Annie say?”
“That if I wanted to see my nephew take his first breath, I should hurry.” The palpable sadness in her voice quieted the children who had begun to fidget.
The professor packed a pipe with tobacco. “May I see the artifacts?”
They left, children and all, for the dock.
* * *
Lieutenant Morelos and his troops took possession of the treasure. They cuffed Remy and the colonel and herded them into a military boat.
Lieutenant Morelos frowned. “These were not the only men involved.”
“That is correct.” They described the others as well as they could.
“I have orders to escort you and the artifacts to Lima.”
“Thank you.”
The mayor and one of the village guards shook Diego’s hand. The man who had been sentry to Remy and the colonel hung back.
* * *
He and Mercedes relaxed in an embassy room comfortably furnished with several paintings from local artists hanging on the walls. They had in their possession new passports and a fresh wardrobe. Mercedes wore a lime cotton dress and white sandals. A new purse seemed to give her as much comfort as her forever-lost fanny pack. She clutched the handbag as if she had stored secrets inside.
Diego wore black slacks, a blue long-sleeved cotton shirt, and leather loafers. He was grateful. Because of the embassy’s support, he and Mercedes were able to toss out clothes that had collected many uncivilized odors. What the embassy had accomplished while they slept left them wanting to return the favor.
A young woman escorted them to the door and out to the wrought-iron gate. “The jet will be ready when you arrive at the airport. Your discovery has made news around the world. You are quite famous. Several international newspapers will be on board for your perusal. We are pleased to have been of service.”
“Thank you for your help.”
The young lady shook their hands. “You’ll be fine now.”
* * *
In the jet Mercedes fell into Diego’s lap and played with his hair loosening the ponytail. They sat in peaceful silence enjoying the moments as they traveled closer to New York. “I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m clean and no one’s threatened to kill me for twenty-four hours.” She peered out the window at the passing landscape. “In a short time we’ll be home.”
“You have made Long Island where I want to live forever.”
She paraded kisses across his cheeks. “Home. I can’t wait.”
“Will you marry me?”
She screamed.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes!”
He stroked her arm. “Where shall we hold the ceremony?”
“By the ocean.”
“Perfect. We will celebrate our nuptials at my house. Luz will arrange for caterers and flowers.”
“I’m so happy. No matter what she decides, I’ll love it.”
“But wait. I have had centuries of misadventures. More enemies may find me. If you change your mind I will understand.”
“What? Was that an unproposal?”
“No. I love you above all things, above all people.”
“Good. I’m going to rest my head on your shoulder and think happy thoughts. What shall I wear? Annie can be my maid of honor.”
Hugh, their fresh-faced steward, approached from the tiny galley. “We have champagne and a selection of cheeses. Should I bring them now?”
She nodded. “That would be wonderful. By the way, we’re engaged.”
“Congratulations.” He grinned. “I’ll be right back.”
“I had to tell someone. I should call Annie.”
He caught Mercedes looking at him strangely.
“You haven’t fed.” She ran her hand over his cheek. “How do you feel?”
“When Luz meets us at Kennedy, she will bring supplies. My health will improve rapidly.”
Hugh popped out from behind the blue curtain wheeling a cart. Crystal glasses tinkled. The steward uncorked the bottle letting the stopper fly across the narrow span of the jet. He and Mercedes held the flutes ready to catch the bubbling wine. He did so to be polite.
Service completed, Hugh tucked the bottle into ice. “There’s a surprise. The chocolates almost missed the flight.”
“This is a gift?” Hugh nodded. The embassy had gone to too much trouble. Such thoughtfulness was more than Diego had expected.
Hugh nodded. “Yes sir. Delivered just before takeoff. Guess someone knew you were going to pop the question.”
Diego reached for the card on top of the box. Under the recessed light of the plane, his hands appeared mottled gray.
“What’s it say, sweetheart?”
“`You die now.’”
Hugh paled.
“Did you see who made the delivery?”
“Yes. A stocky man, with black hair. I mean no offense. He looked as though it hurt him to smile. And when he did, his mouth looked red.”
Chapter 20
The captain chose an emergency landing on the closest island.
Mercedes tightened her hold on Diego’s hand. “Tell me the plan again. Hugh got it the first time, I didn’t.”
Diego kissed her temple. “I will go for the emergency door. Once opened, you and Hugh exit. Take nothing with you.”
“Sounds simple, but you haven’t fed.”
“There’ll be time to eat when we are safe. I want to check Hugh’s belt.” He tugged the steward’s strap and patted the young man on the shoulder then returned to her.
Hugh tried to stay upbeat. “Captain called a mayday. Somebody will be looking for us and the seat cushions float.”
Mercedes forced fear out of her voice. “But we should make the island, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, but if we should go into the water, there’s a chance the plane will float for a few minutes.”
“Look!” cried Mercedes.
Black smoke tracked the inside windows like fingers of death. So dense, that she immediately struggled to breathe. Masks deployed. She needed air. Desperate to get the mask fitted, her hands fumbled. Diego strapped the oxygen over her face. The plane dropped.
Diego yelled over the whine of the struggling engines. “Brace! Heads down.”
The wings shuddered. Cargo boxes tumbled from the overheads banging, bouncing against
the sides, the seats, everything. She sucked in air too scared to think. The safety buckle dug into her waist. Diego placed his hand protectively over her head. Metal shrieked protesting stress it was never meant to handle.
She squeezed her eyes shut. The plane slammed into the ocean with a terrific roar. Her belt snapped driven by pressure and she went airborne. The guts of the plane blocked any passage, filling the aisles. Wires. Padding. The plane shuddered as it died. Hot air scorched her face. She tried to stand. Fumes burned her throat. She could barely see. What had happened to Diego?
Sunlight flickered through a narrow gash in the plane’s shell. Diego—almost swallowed by fetid dark smoke--ripped it open.
“Come to me now!” he shouted. “Hurry!”
She had to reach him and the light. “I. . .can’t.” She stood in thigh-high water rising fast.
“Mercedes!”
She heard a pop. Fire!
A strong arm dragged her through the dangling wires. Diego tossed her into the ocean away from the plane.
“Swim!”
Her teeth chattered and she sank. She pulled the cord and shot to the surface. The ocean bit into her seared cheeks and swamped her nose and mouth. Coughing, she spit out what she could, swallowed the rest. Diego swam to her side. He shoved the galley counter toward her and pushed it below the surface and held it submerged.
“Quick! Climb on!”
She crawled aboard like a turtle in a cumbersome shell. He let go and a wave snapped him away.
She leaped after. Behind her rose a sucking sound. She focused on saving Diego. But she couldn’t dive because of the vest. She caught a glimpse of orange and shot her arm out catching the fabric of his lifejacket. The galley counter had followed her wake. She reached behind grasping the edge and watched in horror as the shredded plane nosedived. An abyss, she thought, it’s going into the abyss and so are we.
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