by Al Cooper
They followed the tunnel for about a hundred of yards, until they observed that led to a bifurcation.
- And now?... - Hanson asked his partner expecting that he could help to choose the right path -
- I have no idea. Probably there're dungeons in both directions. - Said Klein stunned -
- Let's try it by here. - Hanson pointed out, choosing on a purely whimsical the passage to his left. –
After a few meters, they heard voices from the background of the tunnel, sounds which became more strident as they advanced, until becoming deafening. They didn't understand their meaning. They were accompanied by a foul odor, nauseating. As their torch allowed them to recognize their origin, they were stunned. There, carved into the rock at the end of dark tunnel opened a dungeon full of indigenous, piled, some chained to the wall, others each other, arranged in a minimum living space between them. It was difficult to know the exact number of people who shouted wildly supported by the bars of the cell, but they would be thirty at least.
- Miserable! ...I am ashamed to belong to the human species! - Hanson muttered through clenched teeth while Klein watched in amazement the Dantesque spectacle -
- I could never imagine that Clerigan had come to this degradation degree - said Klein -
- It seems that there's no white here, perhaps following the other bifurcation ...
- But agent ... we can't leave them. We should do something for them, is not it?
- No, not now. Hell would break too much commotion in the wrong time. We will return to the other passage, then we'll come back - Hanson explained raising his voice above the deafening screams as he turned to go back by the passageway -
Hanson and Klein came back to the bifurcation and took the other path. When they had walked a few feet, their steps awaked a woman from her initial silence, she was shouting despair.
- Wisely to get away from here, you bastards, first your syringes, and now your pigswill. You are nothing but scum!
That voice was familiar to Hanson. It only could belong to a person. He ran looking for the end of the tunnel to ensure that his assumption was correct.
- Susan? Susan, are you? - He shouted - He was very close, when he heard in much lower tone the same voice.
- My God! That voice ... that voice ... - kept saying the woman, distraught –
Hanson lighted a small cell with his torch allowing him to see the face of the woman, who had to turn her head as she was dazzled by the light. Hanson came over and offered his hand, she squeezed with all her might.
- Susan! What a joy! Are you okay? Susan was visibly excited and just nodded her head.
- What about Marvin? - Susan looked around and could only make out the figure of Klein - Where is Marvin?...
- Be quiet, you'll see him very soon. First let's get you out of this dungeon of hell.
Hanson took a look at the lock. It seemed too complicated to get to figure out how to force it.
- We can't waste time, we must take risks. - Pulled out his gun - Put aside, Susan - aimed and shot it in the lock, which blew up. There was a thunderous noise, multiplied by the echoes from the walls –
Hanson opened the cell door, Susan staggered out and hugged him. As he could see her closer he noticed her dirty face, emaciated, checking that she was very weak.
- Susan! What have done you these bastards?
- Do not worry, the important thing is to get out of here, I had lost my hopes. I thought that nobody will find me never!
- Do you know if there're more white prisoners?
- I just know that when they brought me the food, they still followed by the tunnel - she waved her hand in the forward direction of the passageway - I always have got the impression that there must be someone else.
- Well, that we'll know it very soon. Come on! Lean on me.
They didn't want to waste more time. Klein went ahead lighting with the torch. They had to walk a hundred feet to reach the end of the tunnel, an apparently empty cell, beside which lay a much narrower corridor, by which nobody could pass. It seemed to be a ventilation duct connected to the outside.
Hanson took the torch and passed it through the door, watching as a human figure was outlined against the back wall of the cell. He reached down and then found lying on the floor, backwards, perfectly still, the body of a man. He put his hand on his shoulder.
- Hello ... Are you OK? Who are you ?... - Hanson asked while shaking it gently –
The figure turned his head slowly, revealing part of his face. He was very scruffy, bearded several weeks and face haggard.
- Do you come to help me die? If so, I'll be grateful forever - the prisoner said with a deep voice and such confidence that they trembled as they heard his words -
Hanson didn't think. He pulled out his gun and jumped the lock of a shot. Then entered the cell and helped the prisoner to stand up.
- Whoever you are, thank you, gentlemen!
It was Susan the first to notice that she had heard so distinctive voice in more than one occasion. Then she stared, as if trying to find some common trait among his disfigured face and the image that came to her mind. Her eyes were the final proof she needed. When she made sure that her premonition was correct, she was blocked, unable to speak.
- What happens, Susan? - Hanson asked surprised, to see her livid face -
- No way ... is ... is ... that voice ... is ... not sure but ... - Susan stammered, pointing to the prisoner by hand -
The agent was set carefully at that man. He had a badge hanging from his neck, on which were recorded his blood type and name. In those precarious conditions the name was difficult to read. As he succeeded at last, he was startled to the point of lean back as if he had seen a ghost. Then, incredulous, exchanged a look with Susan and, as if moved by a spring, grabbed his shirt pocket looking for his badge, but could not find it.
- FBI! Well ... you'll have to trust my word, Mr. President. Agent Hanson, Stuart Hanson -he shook his hand - Because ... are you, right? I have been seeing so strange things since we got here that ...
- If you had arrived a few days later, I even would not be sure about it - the man said faintly - But, until recently at least, I was the president of the United States of America, although now my only companions are rats. Harold Freeman gives you thanks again, agent Hanson - he embraced him with the little strength he had left -
- Rest assured, I will not tell your superiors the issue of the your badge.
Everyone smiled for the occurrence of Harold, and were surprised to do it in such dire circumstances. They thought surely that man was more than a television picture or a product election, his charisma and personality pierced the boundaries of magazine covers and front pages of news.
- But ... what are you doing here? Have you been kidnapped? Why? - Hanson asked -
- That I would like to know. One day I went to lunch with some fellow party members, went into the bathroom, someone grabbed me from behind and they must have sedated me. When I woke up I was forced at gunpoint to get up. We made a long trek through the jungle, then we came here and put me in this dirty, wet, sad and smelly cell. Where are we? Perhaps somewhere in Central America?
- In the Amazon, President - Hanson explained to him -
- God! - He paused, looked thoughtful - I imagine the FBI has sent you to rescue me.
- Well ... not exactly - Hanson shrugged - Here it is cooking something very serious, President. Come on, we gotta get outta here and soon. The gunmen of Clerigan are about to arrive.
Harold put his arm around the neck of Hanson and began to walk with difficulty, since the state of the President was far worse than Susan, while she leaned on Klein. They began the way out.
As they were coming to the bifurcation, they heard footsteps, someone was coming in opposite way, not cost them to guess who they were. They rushed all that was p
ossible in order to arrive at the bifurcation, then Hanson told them by signs that turned to the right, as their only chance of going unnoticed was addressing to the cell of the indigenous. Hanson expected that the dinner that the gunmen was carrying wasn't aimed to the Indians, after noticing they were being treated worse than dogs. The presumption of agent was successful, they heard as the sentries passed next to them but taking the other direction at the bifurcation.
Hanson studied in seconds their possibilities. The guards would soon find the cells empty and would run in their search. Because of the bad state of Susan and President, it was unlikely they could reach the exit before their pursuers. On the other hand, if they remained hidden in the tunnel, as soon as the sentries arrived outside would give the alarm signal to the rest of their peers. Last but not least, when they noticed that there were nobody outside then they would come back to the passages. He only found a promising option. He walked towards the cell of the indigenous. Klein said him by signs that he didn't understand what he was doing, they should take the opportunity to leave, but Hanson simply signaled him to follow his way. As he reached the cell, he shone the torch around until he found a bracket with the keys on it. He took them and tried to open the door, without success, so he thought that its usefulness should be limited to the locks on the chains of prisoners. He signaled to his companions trying that they drew away and went to a corner, away from the door. He pulled again the gun and shot the lock. The indigenous cried out terrified. Horror drawn on their faces reflected the panic that precedes a foretold death. It was difficult for him to get liberate the first indigenous of his chains, but as the prisoners realized what was his real intent, you could see in their eyes a gleam of hope, their screams became silent and their attitude were to remain impassive, looking each other as if they were not able to believe what was happening. But when, after all them were free, one of them decided to run down the passage, the reaction of others was swift, took to rush like a cork from a bottle under pressure, seeking desperately the out. Hanson encouraged the President to lean on him and motioned Klein to follow him. They should take advantage of the surprise element in order to escape before the gunmen could reorganize.
When the men of Clerigan found the cells empty, they became furious and headed quickly to the exit, but as they heard the shots changed their course to the other passage. Their surprise was huge when they saw as an army of ailing Indians full of anger and ready to take revenge coming against them. They fired repeatedly and heard some bodies fall, but the stampede came on them without mercy, so they chose to run all as fast as they could trying to get out before their persecutors.
- How many men has Clerigan? - Hanson asked Klein while forcing the march through the tunnel -
- There are six in total.
- Let's see if I get the accounts ... one is at the village. Then we have the two of the tunnel and the guard of the access gate. So there are two that I haven't got controlled - Hanson thought aloud –
- One, Pete, Clerigan right arm, almost certainly will be at home waiting for Sena notifies him when his dinner is ready, he's a man of Spartan habits and very rigid who is the first in everything, starting when he gets up in the morning.
- I appreciate your detailed explanation but the only thing that interests me is where is Pete right now, not his exciting private life. Well, we still lack one ...
- Yes, Howard, the mechanic and electronics expert man. The most logical would be that at this time he was in the lab because he has clear instructions of Clerigan to check all equipment before dinner. Now ... - Klein was thoughtful, gesturing with his head in doubt –
- What happen? Are you missing something? We are in a rush, tell me, what is the problem? - Hanson intervened as he observed his doubts -
- Well ... it's ... not the first time that takes advantage of any circumstance to venture into the jungle with a native. He maintains a relationship with her.
- Pregnant, right?
- Yeah, like most. But it is not ... say ... too scrupulous.
- I'll have to congratulate Clerigan for choosing his men so well.
- Not underestimate them, I can assure you they are very dangerous people.
- No doubt. Anyway I am particularly concerned Pete and Howard.
He took one of the two pistols on his belt and handed it to Klein - Take it, I think you're going to need it.
When Hanson and his companions reached the hatch, there was no one to greet them. The two gunmen, whom the sentry at the entrance had joined, had been arranged in the garden trying to repel the onslaught, firing against the Indians who came out by the door uttering piercing screams. Most were killed, a few managed to reach the jungle.
Hanson reached upstairs and watched the scene. The last indigenous were still coming out the door. Only a few managed to reach the garden, the three gunmen of Clerigan had found the invaluable help of a fourth, Pete, who was shooting them from the first floor, so that his three companions were advancing rapidly towards the door. Hanson was placed in a window and started shooting. The surprise factor allowed him to shoot down one of them, the other two,stunned, were forced to lay flat on the ground and withdrew until find a place behind some nearby trees. Hanson closed the door and told Klein that covered another window, and indicated to Susan and President to take cover.
- Agent Hanson, give me now a gun. - Harold said with resolution -
Hanson stopped for a few seconds the gunfire and turned his head toward him.
- But, President, you're very weak and I don't consider it suitable ...
- We are going to fight for something more than our country, we're going to fight for the dignity of human beings. It’s an order, agent!
Hanson gave him one of the pistols in his belt and some ammunition. He also gave them some instructions.
- President, Klein, cover the windows! Susan, head down, lie down!
The gunmen of Clerigan had surpassed their initial stage of confusion and, creeping stealthily along the ground, slowly advanced toward the house.
Hanson had not forgotten to Pete. He knew he was inside the house and he could appear at any time, but unfortunately he hadn't too much time to think. Klein was much more awkward with the weapons than with test tubes and the President made enough because of his state shooting from time to time. His attention was diverted to a third man who had joined the group of garden and a fourth that came running. Hanson identified him as the man who had been walking with Susan. He was, without doubt, Clerigan. The situation was getting too complicated, he couldn't see appear to Marvin and Souza. He thought they would need time, the distance from the village still would delay them a few minutes, so they had to resist and keep them at bay in the meantime.
Lost in thought, he didn't realize that Peter was coming down the stairs with a rifle in his hand, pointing him. It was Susan who saw him and sounded the alarm.
- Hans! At your back!
Hanson turned quickly and fired point-blank at the gunman, who, mortally wounded, fell down the stairs. All of them set their gaze for a moment on the stairs, trying to make sure there was not one else. Their surprise was huge as they heard some shouts from upstairs. Then they could observe the face of fear of a girl who Hanson quickly identified. She was the same that had entered with Sena in the corridor as he and Klein were trying to reach the basement stairs. They also could see other four terrified children accompanied by Sena. Hanson continued firing at the gunmen in the garden, while the President, who had turned instinctively his head, was watching the scene on the top floor. Suddenly his face grew pale to spot the gaze of one of those children, Tommy, the same who had come to the lab while Clerigan and Kelly were talking.
- Is something wrong, Mr. President? - Susan intervined to see his reaction -
- It is ... impossible! No! ... no way! - They were the only words that came from the lips of Harold that was preoccupied staring at Tommy -
Hanson noticed the scene and also intervened.
- Is it familiar to you?
- That child ... this child ... is ... am ... am ... it's myself when I was ten years old! No way!
- Yes, President, it's possible. Then I'll explain you. Watch out!
Hanson's warning came too late. Harold, in his attempt to ensure the accuracy of what he was seeing, had sat up enough to leave part of his torso bare, so that a bullet grazed his shoulder. Hanson made as if to approach, but to observe the wound Susan reassured him.
- Do not worry, it's nothing serious. I'll look after him.
Susan tore one of the sleeves of Harold and improvised a tourniquet.
Recent events had distracted attention from Hanson, he couldn't keep an eye on all fronts. He fixed the positions of men advancing from the outside and concluded that he only could count three men, was missing a fourth. He had no time to think, heard a scream from upstairs and instantly turned. He could see Tommy, screaming, and next to him to one of the gunmen of Clerigan with a rifle in his hand, pointing toward the President. Hanson's reflexes had always been the envy of his classmates in the FBI. It was a split second that marked the border between life and death. The intruder, the fourth man that Hanson could not locate, was surprised by the reaction of the child. This fact gave the agent the right time to make two shots that killed him.