~ * * ~
With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew what the pickup in front of the monastery meant: the Mendoza brothers or, at the very least, their thugs.
The good news: I only saw one pickup.
The bad news: I’d seen how they could pack men with guns in the backend like armed sardines and there could be anywhere upwards of twelve to fifteen of them in the monastery.
Even as I debated what to do, I heard a scream from inside which was quickly stifled, and a man exited the monastery, got into the pickup, and moved it through the gates, closing them securely behind him. Apparently, they hadn’t been there for long.
I had to figure out something and quickly, but I was alone and didn’t know when or if Montez and Hondo would arrive…very possibly a week.
The nuns didn’t have that much time.
I had to think…rushing in guns blazing wouldn’t do any good…think…think…think…a plan…that was what I needed…and to formulate a plan I had to see inside. The courtyard……of course…that was as good a place to start as any, plus it offered me an entry point into the monastery.
As I crept stealthily towards the tree, which I’d used as a lookout post as well as ‘home’ what suddenly seemed eons ago, I was pulled up short by the flare of a match.
There was a sentry.
Realizing I only had a short window of opportunity, the guard temporarily blinded by the flickering flame, I quickly and silently moved around behind him and a grab and a twist later removed the cigarette from the immobile lips stubbing it out under foot as I lowered him quietly to the ground,.
As I drug him away from the wall to hide his body, I felt sick to my stomach. I’d just killed my first man.
I took two steps away from him and doubled over with the dry heaves that I couldn’t seem to control, thankful I hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours as that would have left evidence of my existence. I was fairly certain the guard I’d killed wouldn’t be the only one.
In one part of my mind, I realized that sooner or later I would have to deal with the fact that I’d killed a fellow human being and all the ramifications of that. I chose later. At the moment the nuns, obviously being held hostage, were the overriding priority, and I couldn’t allow myself to dwell on what I’d done.
Pulling myself together, I continued to reconnoiter the perimeter and ascertained that there was only one other sentry. The two of them were apparently circling the enclosure no doubt waiting for something or someone. I had to assume that it was me they were expecting and that meant I’d been had and Montez and Hondo would not be coming.
The way I saw it there were two possibilities: number one—I had been careless and hadn’t realized I’d been under surveillance the whole time I was searching for Vasquez, I didn’t believe that, or number two—Montez and/or Hondo had either turned traitor or been betrayed themselves.
Whatever the case, I couldn’t wait around for help that in all probability would never materialize.
After dispatching the second sentry in the same manner as the first and hastily hiding him, I heard a spurt of automatic gunfire coming from the courtyard and I froze.
Another burst brought me to my senses and had me running flat out towards my tree perch, scrambling up quickly with heart pounding so loudly I was sure the men in the courtyard below would hear it.
The flashlights the men were holding were the only form of illumination in the courtyard and I fumbled in my pack for my night vision glasses.
I made four men, two covering the storage building where Vasquez was hiding, their flashlights as well as their guns trained on the doorway, and one illuminating the fourth man who was holding a woman hostage in front of him, knife at her throat.
With shock, I realized it was Valerie.
I should have known she wouldn’t give up that easily.
“I want that book, Vasquez,” Valerie’s captor yelled in Spanish. “I have your pretty Senora, she has touchingly returned to you, but sadly you seem to value the book more than you do her.”
There was silence.
“When I finish with her I will give her to my men,” he warned. “I wonder how pretty she will be after ten men have had their fun. We might have to kill her in order to put her out of her misery.”
Two down and eight maybe nine to go depending on whether he was counting himself as one of the ten, which I doubted. Leaders seldom identified themselves with their followers so I had to assume I had nine more to contend with. That meant five more in the building with the nuns.
“I’ll be back once I have enjoyed the delights of her body,” he began backing towards the entrance to the main building taking Valerie with him.
“Let her go, Sanchez,” a voice commanded from inside the storage building. “This has nothing to do with her.”
Valerie must have arrived shortly before or after I had, because by the tone of Vasquez’s voice, he was as surprised to see her as I was. Somehow, she had secured a vehicle because other than a quick meal many hours ago and few water breaks, I hadn’t stopped to rest the whole trip back to the monastery, and I knew she couldn’t have made that kind of time on foot.
“The book…my friend…throw it out on the ground and you and your woman may yet live to see another sunrise.”
Training my glasses on the doorway, I could see the tip of Vasquez’s submachine gun peeking out. Realizing that type of weapon was just as likely to kill the innocent bystanders as the enemy and knowing Vasquez wouldn’t want to risk hitting Valerie, I quickly reached into my pack and pulled out my night scope calmly fixing it to my weapon.
As I worked, I saw the ledger fly out of the building and land on the ground a few feet from one of the men who, in turn, swiftly snatched it up and headed towards the main building…the other man on his six.
Sanchez halted them and ordered the man carrying the ledger to open it. After a cursory examination, he curtly nodded and the two men entered the monastery taking the ledger with them.
“You’ve got what you came for now scurry back to your boss like a good little dog for your reward,” Vasquez mocked.
I wasn’t sure antagonizing Sanchez was the way to go, but then I realized that Vasquez would never have given up the ledger so easily without an ace in the hole and was obviously counting on the fact that if Valerie was there, I would be, too.
Armed with that knowledge, and knowing Sanchez apparently better than he wanted to, he must have figured that taunting him would make him careless and perhaps give me an opening.
If I could take Sanchez down first, Valerie would be freed and could possibly make it to the storage building while I took out the second man, well before any of the other men could make it into the courtyard.
They would to all intents and purposes be leaderless and that would definitely work to our advantage.
The only problem was the knife at Valerie’s throat. Would Sanchez spasm and injure…possibly even kill…Valerie as my bullet entered his skull? I futilely racked my brain for another option, but I knew there wasn’t one.
Flattening myself on the branch, I steadied my weapon, lining up my sights on Sanchez’s forehead which was proving to be an easy target—Sanchez obviously thought he was totally in control of the situation and wasn’t shielding himself with his hostage as he should have…as I would have if I’d been in his position—watching for the right moment.
“I’ve waited a long time to bring you down, Vasquez, but now I make you wait and imagine all of the things I do to your woman,” Sanchez laughed, cruelly digging his knife into Valerie’s throat as she gasped. “After that, I kill you…slowly.”
I squeezed off the shot and Sanchez fell backwards away from Valerie, his knife dropping from his lifeless fingers, clattering on the stones at their feet. Ignoring everything else but the second man, I swiftly acquired him in my sights and he took my next slug straight through the heart.
Inside the monastery, I could hear shouts of confusion and I
picked off the first two men coming through the doorway, guns drawn, while it slowly dawned on the rest of them that the courtyard had suddenly become a shooting gallery with them as the sitting ducks.
There were no more attempts to make it out through the doorway, and a few moments later I heard an engine turn over.
Cursing my stupidity, I slung the M16 over my shoulder, and made it to the ground in record time, speeding towards the front gates of the monastery. As I rounded the corner, rifle to my shoulder, I watched as the pickup made the corner and the taillights disappeared behind into the trees.
“There goes the ledger,” I grumbled then realized the gates were wide open and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that all of the men were gone.
Keeping my weapon raised and ready, I began to move through the monastery, searching for any sign that some of the men had stayed behind. I didn’t think it probable, with their leader dead they were all probably scared witless, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.
As I reached the main hall, I heard muffled cries and peering into the room from the shadows, I discovered the nuns tied up and gagged.
Unwilling to be seen, I left them there and moved quickly towards where I imagined the exit leading to the courtyard would be, carefully checking out every door so I wouldn’t miss it.
I needn’t have worried…it was the only door blocked open by dead bodies.
Stepping over them and averting my eyes from the bloody scene I’d orchestrated, I made straight for the storage building.
The door was closed and realizing the couple inside would not know who was attempting to enter I called softly,
“Vasquez...? Don’t shoot, I’m coming in,” as I cautiously pushed the door open.
“Took you long enough,” the figure on the floor joked weakly.
“What happened?” I asked harshly as I knelt beside Valerie who was working feverishly to stop the bleeding from the gaping hole in his gut.
“Put your hand here and hold it down firmly,” she ordered as she placed my hand on the blood soaked cloth covering his abdomen. “I’ll be right back.”
As I watched, she hastily pulled up the trapdoor and disappeared into the hole.
“The ledger…it is gone,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, looks like it.”
“I have failed,” Vasquez breathed heavily. “Tell…Garrett…I am sorry.”
“You didn’t fail,” I contradicted in a low tone. “It’s all up here,” I tapped the side of my head.
“In your head?” he asked bewildered. “How…?”
“I have a photographic memory,” I admitted, unwilling to let him die thinking he had been a failure. “No one else knows, so maybe I can get it to Garrett safely.”
“Smart…mi amigo…tell the dying man,” he chuckled faintly his feeble laugh turning into a cough as blood trickled out of his mouth.
“That seems to be my MO.”
Valerie returned with a box of medical supplies and the brilliantly coloured blanket from the bed down below and as she squatted down beside him, attempting to cover him, he took her hand and held it.
“You must do something…for me.”
“Of course,” she replied immediately.
“Take this…” he handed her a crumpled piece of paper he’d been hiding in his hand.
“What is it?”
“My sister…half-sister…I told you…” he wheezed.
“I remember,” Valerie replied softly, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Garrett doesn’t know…his operatives…no families…never told him…tell her I…love…her,” he gasped.
“You can tell her yourself,” Valerie insisted with false bravado.
“It is…too late…for me…Querida…you must…” his voice faded as he took one last weak breath and was still.
There was silence and then Valerie reached over and closed his eyes as quiet sobs escaped her.
As I took a secure grip on her elbow pulling her up off the floor, she attempted to resist, grasping the blanket as if it was a lifeline.
“We have to leave…now,” I murmured firmly, realizing she needed time to grieve, but unable to give it to her. “Mendoza’s men will most likely be returning in force shortly, and we need to be gone.”
“But the sisters…”
“…will be fine as long as we leave them tied up and we aren’t here when they get back,” I finished for her as I drug her across the courtyard towards the main building.
“But…”
“I doubt even Mendoza’s men would dare to harm a nun. Do you have any paperwork?” I asked as I carefully lifted her over the dead men still blocking the doorway.
“Paperwork…?” she repeated dazedly, seemingly unable to take her eyes off the bodies.
“Something to prove you’re an American?”
“In my room…”
“Go get it…quickly…and anything else you need to take with you as long as it fits in a small bag,” I took the blanket from her, dropping it on the floor, and pushed her towards the stairs. “Meet me at the front gate.”
Moving swiftly back out into the courtyard, I knelt down beside each of the men, relieving them of the money in their pockets—they wouldn’t miss it—and stuffing it all into a small compartment of my pack.
Most of them were carrying very little, a few coins, Mendoza probably picked up cheap labour wherever he could find it, but Sanchez had quite a bankroll of peso oro on him, no surprise there, the surprise was that there were 1000 peso oro notes along with the 200 peso oro ones. I had overheard the locals discussing the rumour that they were in the offing but had never seen one, wasn’t even sure they had been officially released.
Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, I peeled off the larger notes and stuffed them back into Sanchez’s pockets, keeping only the smaller ones. No need to draw undue attention to ourselves; there were plenty of small bills to get us where we were going.
Entering the storage building, I had a momentary twinge of regret at not being able to take Vasquez’s body back to the states for burial, but I stifled it. Vasquez was past caring and when Mendoza’s men returned, which was an almost certainty, the only way to ensure the safety of the nuns was to leave the evidence of his death. They had the ledger and the spy was dead; I was fairly certain they would be content with that and leave the monastery as well as the women strictly alone.
Franklin, however, would be a different matter. He knew I existed and it was very possible he knew about Valerie if it was, as I suspected, her phone call that had somehow tipped him off.
They would be coming after me.
Rummaging through the medical kit Valerie had produced from down below, I filled every empty space in my pack with the medical supplies and after stopping to retrieve the blanket I had discarded, was at the front gates and across the road inside a minute, not wishing to be surprised by a group of armed men returning earlier than expected.
“Jack…?” I heard a tentative voice call from inside the gates moments later.
“Over here.”
“Did you find the car?”
“Car…what car…?”
“I borrowed a car from Mr. Goff and hid it thinking it would help us move Leandro to…” she trailed off.
“Did you get your papers?” I asked changing the subject abruptly.
“Papers…yes I have my passport, driver’s license, and birth certificate,” she recited absently.
“Then let’s get going,” I gently nudged her. “The car…?”
“Oh, over here…” she began as she led me down the road in the opposite direction from the route Mendoza’s men had taken.
She had pulled the car off the path in between two trees, barely squeezing it in, and then covered it with some foliage.
“Smart,” I murmured. “Keys…?”
“Under the driver’s side floor mat…I thought it best not to carry them around with me…” her voice drifted off.
/> “Get in,” I ordered as I tossed my pack in the back seat and squeezed into the driver’s side, searching for a way to adjust the seat to accommodate my height.
“What are you looking for?” she asked idly as she shut her door.
“Trying to push the seat back,” I replied irritably.
“That’s as far back as it goes,” she offered apologetically, a ghost of a smile playing around her lips.
“Figures,” I muttered as I turned over the engine.
“I could drive,” she suggested with a half-hearted attempt at humour.
I was relieved to see she was recovering her equilibrium.
“You’ll get your chance,” I grimaced “because we’re not stopping to sleep.”
“Where are we going?”
“Bogotá.”