The Ruins

by Brad Taylor

  I said, “Where’s Leopold?”

  She hitched her breath, saying nothing. I said, “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. Where is Leopold?”

  She said, “In the theater. With Sofia.”

  “Where’s the theater?”

  “It’s the next hallway up. It leads right to the theater room. He’s watching a movie.”

  Jennifer came from behind the door, and the woman started. I said, “Left or right?”

  “Right.”

  I said, “Jennifer, hold her here. Stay on the radio. When I come back, we’re going to be moving.”

  I exited the room and went straight to the next intersection, a hallway branching out both sides. I peeked down the left, seeing it stretch for what looked like the length of a football field, with doors on both sides. I prayed nobody popped out of a bedroom on that side. I crossed and looked down the right hallway. It was shorter, ending in a set of double doors. I went down it and checked the left door. Locked. I checked the right and found it open.

  I cracked the door and peeked in. The room was set up like a mini movie theater, with about thirty captain’s chairs split left and right, an aisle down the middle. Inglourious Basterds was playing on a screen in the front, but I didn’t see anyone watching. I peered closer and saw the top of someone’s head in the first row. A male, but I didn’t see any female.

  I slipped inside and softly shut the door. I crept down the aisle, hearing the head say, “Yes, yes. That’s right. Good.”

  I got closer and saw someone at his feet, a head in his lap.

  You have to be kidding me. Looks like I found Sofia.

  I moved quietly behind him—in truth, I probably could have marched up to him blowing a tuba and wearing tap shoes—and put the barrel of my MP5 behind his ear. His eyes snapped open, looking up at me. He patted the girl on the head, and she ceased work, falling back in terror, jerking up her dress to cover her exposed breasts.

  I said, “Pull up your pants.”

  He began to do so and I turned to the girl. “Sofia?”

  She nodded, amazed I knew her name. I said, “You’re going to walk in front of us. If you do anything but walk, bad things will happen. Is that understood?”

  She nodded again. I said, “Leopold, give me your cell phone.” He passed it to me. I said, “Is this your only one?” He nodded.

  I said, “Okay, both of you line up facing the door, Sofia in the front. What happens from here on out is in your hands. I have no intention of harming either one of you. That will only occur if you don’t follow my instructions to the letter. Is that understood?”

  Sofia nodded, but Leopold showed the first signs of resistance, the shock and embarrassment he’d felt earlier fading away. He drew up tall and said, “You have no idea who you’re fucking with. Leave now and I won’t have you skinned alive.”

  I suppose it would have sounded threatening, but he had a weird French accent that made him sound like Pepé Le Pew. I kicked him in the balls, causing an explosion of air and making him double over. I said, “You ever want Sofia here to play with your nuts again, you’d better shut the fuck up.”

  I drew my Elishewitz fighting knife, put it between his legs right up to where he was cupping his genitals, and said, “The next time you open your mouth, I’m cutting them off. Understood?”

  He nodded rapidly.

  I said, “Start walking, Sofia. Go to his office where your friend went to the bathroom.”

  We exited the theater, and Sofia started to go left, toward the front of the house. I snapped my finger and she stopped. I said, “Right. Go right. To the office.”

  She gave me a quizzical look, like I was trying to trick her. Leopold said, “My office is to the left. My head of security has a smaller office to the right.”

  I waved the MP5 and said, “Go to the smaller office. Quickly.”

  She began moving faster, and I poked Leopold with my barrel. Seconds later, we were inside the security guy’s office, Jennifer sitting with the first girl. She stood up as soon as we entered, and I said, “Everyone hold out your hands, palms facing away from each other, backs of your hands touching.”

  We flex-tied them; then I took the roll of duct tape out and wrapped a layer around Leopold’s mouth, being sure to catch the hairs on the back of his neck because I’m a jerk that way.

  I said, “Okay, you girls take off those high heels.”

  They did so, awkwardly shuffling with their hands tied together, looking at me as though I had something nefarious in mind.

  I said, “Stop what you’re thinking. We’re not going to hurt you, but we are leaving here at a run. My partner here will lead the way. You just keep up. We’re going out the back of the house and down the dock. Any questions?”

  I saw Leopold’s eyes relax and knew he thought he had us. I pulled out the key card I took from the guard and passed it to Jennifer. Leopold sagged a little.

  I said, “Let’s go.”

  We sprinted down the hallway and reached the kitchen, and I said, “Hold up. Stop.”

  Everyone did, with Jennifer staring at me with a question. I said, “Go inside the lockup and get that long gun with the scope and another MP5. Make it quick.”

  She started to leave and I caught her arm. “Don’t forget the ammo.”

  She disappeared, then came back out within thirty seconds, the TRG slung over her shoulder, the MP5 in her hands. Three minutes later we were outside the wall and in full view of the camera. I didn’t care now, because I wanted them to know that we had kidnapped Leopold.

  I turned to the girls and said, “You’re free to go. I’d cut off your flex ties, but I think it’ll go better for you if you’re found barefoot and cuffed.”

  They just stood, looking uncertain, like I might shoot them in the back.

  I said, “You can stay here, run to the front, alert the guards, I don’t care, because we’re leaving.”

  I waved to Jennifer and booted Leopold in the ass, and we scurried to our boat. I threw Leopold in it, let Jennifer climb in, and said, “Tape his ankles together.”

  While she worked, I pushed us out into the lake, then jumped aboard. I heard shouting behind me, saw men running down the dock, and fired up the outboard.

  I cranked it as far as it would go and we sped off into the night. We reached the midpoint of the giant lake and I throttled back, letting the boat drift.

  I went to Leopold and squatted down, staring at him like he was a bug for a moment. He mumbled something from behind the tape. I took a corner and ripped it off, causing him to gasp.

  He took a couple of deep breaths and then said, “So it’s a kidnapping, is it? That’s why you let the girls go. You want to alert my men. That’s fine by me. We can do this civilized. I have plenty of insurance. Let me call someone.”

  I put the tape back over his mouth, leaned into his face, and said, “It is a kidnapping, but I don’t want money. I want something much more valuable.”

  I went back to the outboard, letting him stew on my words.

  Chapter 18

  Eduardo was bouncing around the hotel room like a puppy, right when I needed him to focus on what I was doing.

  I said, “Hey, can you sit still for one minute? I need your help here.”

  We’d reached the far shore in our boat, steering toward the secluded little grove Eduardo had found, but when we beached, he didn’t appear. I’d started cursing, and he rose from the bushes, sheepishly coming forward. Before I could speak, he’d said, “Sorry. I didn’t know if you were the bad guys until you started cussing.”

  Jennifer chuckled, and I said, “Okay, we don’t have any time to waste. We need to get things in motion.”

  I hoisted up Leopold and began peeling off the tape. He tried to say something, and I said, “Hey, in America all mothers will tell you that you should rip a Band-Aid off, not pull sl
owly.”

  His eyes got wide and he shook his head. I grabbed the edge of the tape and yanked it off, ripping out the hair on his neck. He screamed and fell forward into the boat, moaning. I tapped him on the head and said, “Time to make our demands. You up for this, Leopold?”

  He nodded, fearful of what I was going to tell him. I said, “You have a farmer in your custody, a man who’s done nothing wrong. You’re planning on making him disappear. One, if that has already happened, you’ll follow him. Two, if it hasn’t happened, I want to hear his voice. Right now.”

  I pulled out his cell phone and said, “Call whoever you need to and get him on the line.”

  He took the phone, dialed a number, then began a rapid dialogue in French. Toward the end, he began shouting; then he handed the phone to me. I said, “Hello?”

  I heard Spanish back. I passed the phone to Eduardo, and he rattled back and forth in Spanish, his face splitting into a smile. He would have kept talking, but I waved my hand, telling him to cut it short.

  He gave me the phone back, and I heard, “Who is this?”

  I said, “Not your concern. Is this Leopold’s head of security—” I looked at Leopold with a question.

  He said, “Darius. His name is Darius.”

  I returned to the phone, saying, “Darius?”

  The voice said, “Yes. What do you want? If it’s money, we’ll have to call the insurance company. They have a protocol for this, with their own negotiators.”

  “You’ll do as the negotiator, because we’re not going to have any bargaining. What I want is the man you took. The one on the phone.”

  “Why? Who are you? You aren’t Guatemalan.”

  “That’s irrelevant. You’d better keep him in one piece, because if I don’t get him alive, I’m chopping Pepé Le Pew here into small pieces and sprinkling him in the jungle.”

  He started to say something else and I cut him off, saying, “I’ll call back with the time and place. Stay by this phone.”

  We’d traveled back to the hotel, where I’d given Leopold strict instructions on how to act. Any indication that he was under duress, and he would definitely be put in duress. Act normal, and his trials would soon be over. He’d obeyed and now was once again trussed up on the floor behind the bed, with some noise-canceling earphones taped to his head.

  I’d been trying to develop a transfer plan since we’d returned, and I needed Eduardo’s assistance to do it, but he was still on cloud nine after speaking to his father.

  I said, “Hey, sit the fuck down. I know you’re happy to hear your father, but a phone call is not recovery. If you want him back, I need your help.”

  He obeyed, saw the map on my computer screen, and said, “Is that Tikal?”

  “Yes. I need some specific information. From what I’m seeing, this big-ass temple is off on its own about five hundred meters away. On the other side, there are several smaller temples, with this Acropolis thing in the middle.”

  Tikal was one of the best-known Mayan excavations in the world, with multiple structures that looked straight out of an Indiana Jones movie; large pyramids with stone steps leading to an opening at the top, all of them rising right out of the jungle floor. The only thing missing was some Mayan priest rolling a body down the steps while holding a beating heart.

  He said, “Yeah, that first temple is called Temple Four. It’s the tallest temple in the Mayan world. It sticks up above the trees.”

  “Okay, great. Can you see the opening to any of the other temples from Temple Four?”

  He leaned in and said, “It can see both Temple One and Temple Two, but not the entrances. Just the tops.”

  “What about Three?”

  “Three is really just a burial site. It’s an obelisk that juts straight up into the air. There is no entrance.”

  Shit.

  I wanted a public place full of foreigners, preventing the opposition from doing something stupid. I could have picked a tourist site in the city—I’m sure they had one—but I also wanted an open-air setting where I could range the meeting site with the sniper weapon we’d stolen. Just in case. Finally, I wanted a choke point where I could see every vehicle that came or went. Tikal gave me that. It had a single-track road leading into it, with no way to avoid the canalization because of the jungle.

  I said, “So Temple Four can’t see the entrance to any of these things? What about some of the stuff labeled the ‘Great Plaza’? Anything there?”

  “No. From Temple Four the only things you can see are the other temples above the trees. The rest is blanketed by the canopy. But I think Temple Five would work.”

  “Temple Five? Where is that?”

  He pointed to the south of the Great Plaza and the Acropolis, and sure enough, my little university map from Google showed another temple.

  I said, “You can see the entrance from Temple Four? Where the steps go up to the platform?”

  “Yeah. I think so. I used to guide to Tikal, and I’m pretty sure you can.”

  I pulled up Google Earth, searched for both temples, then did a measurement. About 420 meters. Well within the envelope of what I wanted.

  I said, “Okay. That’s the site. Jennifer, come here.”

  She came over and sat behind me and I gave her the bad news. “You’re going to get to the top of Temple Four. I mean the very top, not the platform at the entrance with the hole in the wall.”

  Eduardo said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just getting to the platform is a trek. There’s a rickety set of stairs made of wood, but most of it is scaling up the stones using the vines. And that’s just to the platform. There is no way to the top.”

  I said, “No way for mere mortals.” I turned to Jennifer, “Take a look at these photos. Can you do it?”

  She studied a dozen Google images of the temple, from all directions, and said, “Yeah. It won’t be a problem. But why?”

  “You’re going to take that sniper rifle to the top and provide overwatch for me. I’m going to Temple Five. I’ll walk the stairs to the platform and make the transfer from there. With the tourists around, and the park rangers, it will prevent them from doing anything.”

  Her mouth went into an O, but she didn’t say anything. I turned to Eduardo and said, “You’ll provide early warning. I’ll drop you off on the entrance road, and you give me a call when they enter. All I need to know is the number of vehicles and the number of men. Once you trigger, just hold fast until it’s done.”

  Jennifer said, “Wait, wait. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. You didn’t even discuss this with me.”

  I said, “We don’t have time for a brainstorming session. Jennifer, I’ve done missions like this. Trust my judgment.”

  She said nothing else, and I continued. “We’ll take two vehicles in. One will remain with Jennifer. The other I’ll take to Temple Five. I’ll park it out front for the bad guys to see but will only drive it to Jennifer. We’ll swap there and leave the first in place—in case they use that same canalized road to try to ambush us. Sound good?”

  Full of confidence in my speech, Eduardo nodded, saying, “Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s go get my father.”

  I said, “Go back to your room and get your radio. Make sure it has new batteries. Pack up your stuff, because when we’re done, we most certainly aren’t coming back here. Be ready to move in ten minutes.”

  He left, and Jennifer said, “Pike, I can’t do that. You’re giving me too much.”

  I said, “It’s just a temple. Rough stone. You said you could climb it.”

  She glanced away, then returned, looking into my eyes. “I can’t make that shot. I’m not you.”

  I said, “Jennifer, shooting isn’t black magic. That TRG is 7.62, just like the SR-25 we’ve shot day after day. Before, that was your favorite thing to do on the range. Ringing steel at eight hundred meters. This i
s half that. You’ve hit ten-inch disks at over double the distance. The only difference is that the TRG is twice as accurate. You can make that shot in your sleep.”

  She nodded, her mind somewhere else. She returned to me and said, “Steel is one thing. This is something different. I don’t know if I can break the trigger on a man.”

  And I finally understood.

  I took her hands and said, “Hey, I’d love for Knuckles to be here, but he’s not. You pull that trigger, and you won’t be taking a life, you’ll be saving one. Me. I only want you to shoot if you see I’m in trouble. That’s it. It’ll be clear in the scope. If I’m under duress—on my knees with a gun to my head or fighting for my life—you break the trigger. That’s it, but I really don’t think it’ll come to that. You’re just the fire extinguisher in the kitchen. The one that starts to rust because it’s never used.”

  She nodded, but then said, “I don’t want this pressure. I’m not you. I don’t think I can kill.”

  Gently, I said, “Jennifer, I can’t put Eduardo on the gun. I have you. And I trust you. Your reticence is the prime reason for that. Get up there and provide overwatch. You’ll do the right thing. I know you will.”

  She nodded again, and I thought her eyes were going to well up. Instead, she steeled herself. She said, “Okay. Okay. If this is what it takes to save Eduardo’s father, okay.”

  I tried to lighten the mood. “Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted to be my girlfriend. What did you think was going to happen?”

  She gave me a rueful smile and said, “I’m regretting ever making that comment.”

  I chuckled and said, “You’ll be fine. Get your game face on and pack up your stuff. When we leave here, we aren’t coming back.”

  Chapter 19

  Following alone behind Pike’s beat-up Jeep Cherokee rental, Jennifer saw the top of Temple Four rise above the canopy of jungle like a bone splitting the skin. The finality of what she was being asked to execute came home. A tasking that was both a moral choice and a necessary evil. One that would define the rest of her life. She wanted nothing to do with the mission Pike had given her and, during the drive up from Santa Elena, had thought that she still had time to back out. Even after she’d proven to Pike that she wasn’t too distraught to shoot.