The Ruins

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The Ruins Page 9

by Brad Taylor


  The sun was directly overhead now, a good angle for a shot she hoped would never come. While it was only an hour’s drive up to Tikal, they’d been gone from the hotel for three because Pike wanted to check the zero of her weapon. Hidden in the task was Pike making sure she possessed the mental state for precision shooting.

  Making sure she could kill.

  He’d asked Eduardo to take them someplace with at least two hundred meters of clear view and away from any population. Eduardo had led them to an abandoned farm slowly being reclaimed by the jungle that still had enough open space to suffice for a zero range.

  Pike had created a makeshift target out of a curtain and a magic marker, then had nailed it to a tree. He’d paced off fifty meters and had handed her the rifle. Shamefully, she’d thought about throwing her rounds, convincing Pike that either the weapon or her skill was faulty. But she couldn’t.

  She’d settled in the prone behind the weapon and dry fired, getting a feel for the trigger and ergonomics, Pike standing next to her not saying a word. Letting her get comfortable. Unlike the SR-25, the TRG was a bolt-action rifle, and she took her time getting used to it. When she was ready, she fired three rounds into the target. Within nine, she was zeroed.

  Pike moved the target to one hundred meters, and she settled behind the scope. The reticle was different than the MOA one on Pike’s SR, but the glass was spotlessly clear, the target jumping out downrange. Pike called on his radio and said, “Three rounds.”

  Five minutes later, she was zeroed at a hundred meters. Pike walked the target back to two hundred. She knew this was the test. If she couldn’t put three rounds under a fifty-cent piece, he wouldn’t trust her at a greater distance. It was her chance to escape the mission.

  She took a breath, stared unfocused at the grass beneath the stock to rest her eyes, then obtained a cheek weld. She broke the trigger, felt the weapon buck, and worked the bolt. She repeated the action, breathe, exhale, squeeze, work the bolt. She did it one more time, then sucked in a deep breath.

  She left the bolt open, dropped the magazine, and said, “Clear.” And waited. Pike pulled the target down and came to her. She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or upset. He laid it in front of her and said, “Do the same thing today, if I need it.”

  Two of the holes were touching. One was a half inch high and right.

  She’d felt both relieved and a little sick. When the temple came into view, the relief vanished, leaving the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  The road wound to the front of the temple, and she could see tourists wandering about, some hiking up the stairs to the platform at the top.

  How am I going to get on top with this rifle in front of them?

  She felt the relief again, but then Eduardo took a turn to the left, following a narrow track around the temple, really just two ruts fading into the jungle. She followed, feeling her rental sedan bounce in the rough terrain. She was about to radio Pike that she was on the verge of getting her vehicle irreparably stuck when Eduardo stopped. She could see the top of the temple jutting out of the trees, but not the base.

  She parked and got out. Eduardo and Pike met her at the back of the Jeep, Pike opening the lift gate.

  Eduardo said, “Only guides take the tourists back here, and there’s really not much to see, so you should be free to climb.” He turned and pointed, “The base is about fifty meters that way, straight through the jungle. You sure you can climb it?”

  Robotically, she said, “Yes.”

  Pike pulled out the rifle and she slung it across her back, barrel down. He said, “I’ll walk you in.”

  They left the track, entering the jungle, and Pike said, “You’ll have about an hour and fifteen minutes to get set. I’m going to call once you’re moving up the temple, and I’m only giving them enough time to drive here. He’ll get this location without any time to plan something stupid. Is that good with you?”

  She pushed a vine out of the way, crossed a fallen tree, and said, “Yes. That should be plenty of time. It’s only about sixty meters tall, and the bottom part is slanted out.”

  They reached the base and Pike looked up the slope of the ancient structure. He said, “Looks like there are vines on it to help as well.”

  She said, “It’s not the climb I’m worried about.”

  He said, “I know. Trust your instincts. I’ll be on the radio, but I’m not sure these little toys push out enough power to reach from here.”

  Alarmed, she said, “We can’t talk?”

  He said, “I hope so, but these radios are crap. Made for families at amusement parks.”

  She pulled out her cell phone, seeing she had no signal in the jungle. She said, “I can’t do this without communicating with you.”

  “You’ll have communication, it’ll just be nonverbal. You have the scope. Crank it to max power and just look. If I raise my arm, shit’s on. That means I need fire on target, right now. There should only be two men from their side—the father and Leopold’s head of security. If the arm goes up, it means you take out the head of security.”

  “How will I know what he looks like?”

  “Eduardo said he’s a gringo, and he spoke French to Leopold on the phone, so it should be easy to sort out. Don’t get yourself worked up over it, though. It’s probably not going to happen.”

  She nodded, then pulled her hair into a ponytail. She turned to him and said, “I guess this is it.”

  “What’s up with the serious face? This is your dream job. You get to scale an ancient Mayan temple. In fact, you look like that Tomb Raider chick. Lara Croft.”

  That comment finally brought a grin to her face. She turned to the temple and said, “Better pray I can shoot like her if I have to.”

  She started climbing and heard him say, “Come on. Nobody can shoot like Lara Croft. Just shoot like you. That’ll be good enough.”

  She appreciated the confidence but didn’t feel it. Soon enough, the potential shot was lost to her as she focused on getting to the top without falling. The first part had been easy, a thirty-degree slope that allowed her to basically scamper. Eventually, she reached the platform at the top, hearing tourists on the other side who had taken the stairs. From here, it was a sixty-foot vertical climb up the ragged stone.

  It took her longer to scale those sixty feet than the rest of the temple combined, but eventually, she slithered onto the top. She unslung her weapon and rolled over, breathing heavily and staring at the sky.

  She looked at her watch. The climb had taken forty-two minutes. She surveyed the top and found it uneven, with blocks of stone jutting out, the ravages of time having worn away the original stucco and mud from eons ago. She crawled forward and looked below her, seeing the entrance to the temple sixty feet below, tourists milling about on the platform. She’d initially thought that she’d leave the weapon on the roof and simply scale down to the entrance, then use the stairs to get to the bottom, but now realized she’d be leaving the way she came to avoid anyone who heard the shots if she were forced to fire.

  It was not something she wanted to do.

  She pulled out her smartphone, turned on the compass feature, and found the azimuth Pike had given her. At least it’s useful for something.

  There was only one temple poking above the trees on that line.

  Gotta be the one.

  She flipped open the bipod on the rail at the front of the weapon, rested it on the stone, and settled behind the buttstock. It took some adjustment to put the temple in her crosshairs, and when it finally settled, she was relieved to see Pike at the top, Leopold behind him. She called him.

  “Pike, Pike, do you read me?”

  Nothing.

  She repeated, “Pike, do you read?”

  Silence.

  She closed her eyes, the lack of radio contact ratcheting up her anxiety. She tried their earl
y-warning OP. “Eduardo, Eduardo, can you read me?”

  He came back, scratchy and broken. “Yes . . . temple . . . hear . . . Pike . . .”

  She felt at least tangentially connected to someone, calming her down. She said, “I can’t get Pike. Let him know.”

  She heard, “Can’t . . . will . . . okay.”

  She lined up behind the rifle again, ranging out various positions and memorizing her holdovers, just like she had with Pike on the range. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see the time had floated by. The arrival of the transfer team should happen at any moment.

  She caught movement below her and looked down, seeing a park ranger ushering tourists away from the temple, another one climbing the stairs. She reflexively scooted back, out of view, then returned, leaning over and seeing the second park ranger rounding up anyone on the platform.

  What are they doing?

  On the one hand, it made her escape easier, but on the other, she was afraid it would affect Pike’s transfer. If rangers asked him to leave, they’d have mission failure.

  Eduardo’s voice exploded in her ear. “They’re here . . . vehicles . . . police . . . second . . .”

  Police?

  She took her position behind the scope, praying over and over that Pike never raised his arm. She saw him walk to the edge and look down. Her scope couldn’t penetrate the tree canopy, but she assumed he was looking at the head of security. She began taking easy breaths, lowering her pulse rate.

  Five men appeared on the stairs, climbing higher than the tree line. She scoped them and saw four policemen in uniform and a Caucasian male in cargo pants. There was no sign of the father. She felt her breath quicken.

  There was supposed to be only one.

  Then the real problem settled home. I can’t kill a policeman.

  She tried to understand what she was seeing. Had the police somehow tracked Leopold? Was he wearing a beacon? Did they geolocate his phone?

  She scoped the Caucasian and knew instinctively he was the head of security. The sicario, as Eduardo called him. He had a hardness she’d only seen in men like Pike.

  So it’s definitely related to Leopold.

  They reached the top, and the police pulled out pistols, aiming them at Pike. She saw them search him, then surround him.

  They’re going to arrest him.

  She felt the pressure rise, a vise squeezing her conscious thought, demanding a decision she couldn’t make. She couldn’t shoot a policeman. Whatever was going to happen, she couldn’t kill someone for doing their job, even if they were going to arrest Pike. She prayed in the depths of her soul that Pike wouldn’t escalate the situation. That he would just go quietly.

  But she knew he wouldn’t. He would fight.

  The Caucasian man pulled a pistol of his own, pointing it at Pike’s head. And she saw Pike raise his arm.

  Chapter 20

  I had good communication with Eduardo, but nothing with Jennifer. It didn’t unduly concern me, because I controlled about ninety percent of what was about to happen. Like a chef working a stove, I only needed her as the fire extinguisher. And I was a pretty good chef.

  We didn’t crawl up to the Temple Five platform until fifteen minutes before arrival. While this temple didn’t have a lot of tourists running around, there were enough at the Acropolis site with Temple One and Temple Two to make me worry that they’d come to ours next, and I didn’t want any questions as to why we were just standing around.

  We reached the top and I got a radio check with Eduardo. He told me that he’d had broken contact with Jennifer and she couldn’t talk to me. I tried her from my end and got the same results. I knew she was looking at me, so I turned in her direction just to let her get confirmation that things were okay.

  Leopold said, “You really think you have this figured out, don’t you? You and your do-gooder environmentalists. Change is coming to this region, and that change will only benefit the people who live in squalor. I create jobs. I create wealth where there wasn’t any before. This action won’t stop that.”

  I turned to him and said, “I’m not a do-gooder. I like wealth just like you. I could give a shit about this region or what you’re doing. Keep that in mind, because I don’t really care about the father. I’m doing a job, and when that job becomes untenable, I’ll have no compunction about putting a bullet in your head.”

  Taken aback, he said, “Who is paying you?”

  I remained quiet, the sole purpose of that speech designed to keep him off-balance. I certainly couldn’t tell him the driving force behind this whole thing was my admiration for and crush on my new business partner. Jennifer had a moral compass that was black and white, and I had to show her I wasn’t a mess of moral gray.

  That, and I honestly liked the underdog. I’d been one for quite a while growing up and remembered what it felt like. Something this sack of shit would never understand.

  He smiled and said, “I knew it! How much will it cost to swap sides? I can promise I pay more than whatever group is paying you. I know it isn’t the son.”

  I said, “I don’t swap sides. Just stay calm and this will be over soon. Don’t push it.”

  He said, “I’m not going to push anything, but you underestimate Darius. He doesn’t like being embarrassed. If he hadn’t been guarding the father, you’d be dead, and he’s going to take that personally.”

  Sick of his shit, I leaned into him, letting the violence leak out. I said, “You’d better hope he plays by my rules.”

  Leopold retreated, and I returned to looking out at the temple grounds. I saw three park rangers fan out and start herding tourists to the exit.

  What the hell?

  I squatted down, not wanting them to order us to leave. We were too far into the endgame for some random park closure to screw up everything. They continued rounding up the scattered visitors, some complaining, but all obeying the orders, and shortly, the grounds were empty. I had no idea why it happened, but it put a wrench in my plans. I wanted the rangers and the tourists to prevent Darius from doing something stupid.

  I thought about aborting, and then Eduardo came on the net. “They’re here. Two vehicles. The first is full of police. The second has Darius driving alone. I don’t see my father.”

  Police? He brought the police? And Darius’s endgame hammered home.

  It was elegant in its simplicity. Something Jennifer had wanted to do in the first place to free Eduardo’s father. Now Darius was using the tactic to free Leopold without exposing why I’d taken him.

  I said, “Get up. We’re leaving.”

  His face showing concern, Leopold said, “Why? What’s happened?”

  I went to the top row of stairs and saw it was too late. Both cars pulled in next to my Jeep.

  Time to play “he said, she said.”

  I figured that Darius would try to have them arrest me solely because Leopold was in my custody. I’d have to fight that with what those assholes had done with Eduardo’s father. I got on the net: “Eduardo, come to the temple. Things are falling apart, and I’m going to need you as a witness.”

  “What? What’s happening?”

  “Just get your ass here.”

  I saw the car doors open, and four policemen began mounting the stairs, Darius behind them wearing sunglasses and a smirk.

  I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. But who would? Nobody in my position. I figured they’d stay as far away from the authorities as possible.

  So much for honor among thieves.

  I knew they’d search me, and I couldn’t let them have my weapon. I dropped the Glock I’d brought inside the temple, behind a stone, then shoved Leopold inside the small room to the right, saying, “If you show your face, I’m going to kill you. Know that now. No matter what happens, no matter if it means I die myself, I’ll kill you.”

  His face sho
wed the fear I wanted, and he nodded.

  I said, “If you want to live, let this play out.”

  I went back outside, waiting on them to arrive. They climbed high enough to recognize facial features, and I saw that the police were on the slovenly side, with two-day beards and rough uniforms. They looked worse than the police I’d seen in Santa Elena, but I had no idea whom Darius had contacted. Only that it would be someone he’d dealt with before.

  They reached the top and two policemen drew their weapons, pointing them at me. A third approached and searched my body, finding nothing. While he patted me down, I said, “Darius, I presume?”

  The Caucasian with the cargo pants and sunglasses chuckled and said, “Yes. I admire your calm. Where is Leopold?”

  “Where is the farmer?”

  “Someplace safe.”

  “Same here. We had a deal.”

  “I don’t make deals. I solve problems. You’ll tell me where he is, I promise. Even if you don’t, I’ll still find that little shit Eduardo. He’ll talk when I rape his mother in front of him.”

  My radio came on, Eduardo breathlessly saying, “I’m at their cars. They aren’t police. They’re sicario. They work for Darius. They’re killers. It’s a death squad.”

  That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

  I should have just started shooting while I still held the high ground.

  I now knew they’d killed the father and they were going to kill me no matter what I did. I’d underestimated the ruthlessness of Darius based on the foppish actions of Leopold. Darius had bought off the rangers, cleared the park of witnesses, and was now going to win.

  As calmly as I could, I said, “We can still make a deal. Show me the father, and I’ll call in Leopold.”

  He said, “The father no longer matters. I want to know where Leopold is, right now.”

 

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