Unlawful Chase

by C J Schnier

  "What gunshot?" I asked, confused.

  She took her aim off of me, pointed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger twice. Two deafening cracks echoed through the house.

  "That one," she said and disappeared through the back door.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I made it to the door in time to see my only lead to the idol disappear. I sprinted out of the house, pumping my arms, but immediately came to an abrupt stop. From around the corner of the old woman's house came one of the lumbering, green military trucks. It skidded to a stop outside of the front door of the villa. Ducking behind the low garden wall, I scrambled on my hands and knees back to the house. From the front of the house I could hear a man's voice barking orders in staccato Spanish, and seconds later I could hear the thud of boots hitting the ground as the truck disgorged its troops.

  I flung the door shut and slid the lock. Back in the main room, I could already see shadowy forms moving past the windows on all sides. They had surrounded the house again. For the third time in an hour, I was sure I was caught.

  The cellar! My eyes darted to the table, and then to the rug placed over the trapdoor. The soldiers had knocked the table askew in their search. Books and broken glass covered both it and the rug. The sounds of the approaching men grew louder. Any moment they would come pouring through the busted front door.

  I threw the rug back and yanked open the trapdoor. I couldn't just close it and make a run for it. The troops would instantly home in on the exposed door and follow me. I had to cover my tracks somehow. Quickly, I grabbed the nearest table leg and slid the behemoth table back towards the middle. It slid easily and quietly on the carpet. Then I grabbed the corner of the rug and threw it over myself as I stood in the hole in the floor. With any luck, the old rug would lay flat once the trapdoor was closed. I descended the rickety wooden stairs, letting the hatch fall into place above me.

  Silently, I slunk back from the stairs, feeling my way in the dark. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted to the blackness. The floorboards above were spaced far enough apart to allow traces of light to filter through where they weren't obstructed by rugs and furniture.

  Shadows flitted across the lines of light as the soldiers moved above me. They talked little. Occasionally I would hear a curt order given by a man with a gruff voice. Less frequently I would hear the whispered reports of his men. This continued for several minutes until I heard furniture being moved around. They weren't giving up so easily on their search this time. There was nothing left for me here, and remaining increased my chances of being caught. It was time to go.

  I pulled a small but powerful flashlight from my pocket and covered the end with my hand before turning it on. It was bright enough it cast a reddish glow around the cellar as the light filtered through my hand. It wasn't hard to find the escape tunnel Dr. Blatt had spoken of. A stone archway spanned a black gap in one wall, large enough for two men to walk upright side by side. Beyond the opening, a flagstone path led into the blackness away from the center of the house.

  I slipped into the tunnel and removed my hand from the flashlight. Its tightly focused beam cast a small circle of blindingly white light wherever I pointed it, but provided little in the way of ambient illumination. I swept the beam around the tunnel, noticing the rough-cut stone. Small piles of masonry dotted the pathway where roots had broken through the stonework.

  The tunnel looked to be ancient, possibly from the colonial era. There were small alcoves built into the walls every ten feet, probably holders for lanterns or torches, I guessed. I counted the sets of alcoves, attempting to keep track of how long the tunnel ran, but gave up after reaching a hundred. Still, the tunnel ran off into the darkness, bending slightly to the right.

  After what felt like a half a mile later, the black gloom in front of me brightened to a midnight blue. I rounded one of the tunnel's gentle curves and had to shield my eyes from the sunlight spilling in from the entrance. When my eyes adjusted, a wall of green and brown jungle surrounded the opening, encroaching almost into the tunnel itself. It was just as Miles Blatt had said.

  The stone walls had become degraded here, and strange markings covered every surface. Words and rudimentary drawings stood out against the rock in a hodgepodge of paints left over from many years of adolescent graffiti. Empty glass bottles and aluminum cans littered the floor near the entrance. I half expected to see a drunken teenager stumble around the corner at any second. The thought of it made me smile. Every small town in America has a similar place where teens went to party and escape their parents. It doesn't matter where in the world you are, some things always remain the same.

  Once I reached the entrance, I poked my head out and looked around. When nobody shouted or raised an alarm, I carefully exited the tunnel and found myself halfway up a steep hill. Rudimentary steps cut into the rock led down towards a small stream that gently bubbled over smooth pebbles. Leading up the hill was a small footpath, little more than a game trail leading back towards the village.

  I followed the trail up and through the jungle, going slowly to avoid making noise or moving the plants which would give me away to the soldiers. I didn't have to walk long before I could make out the outlines of buildings through the jungle growth. A few steps later the underbrush gave way to the edge of the village, and I found myself looking at the side of Blatt's villa.

  The military truck sat idling in front of the house. A single guard leaned against its fender, puffing on a cigarette with obvious boredom. That meant the troops were still inside, and that wasn't good. With them there, I couldn't move about the village. Every passing minute was a larger head start for the mysterious Jaye Mercury.

  Soon, a man stepped out of the house. He was dressed differently than the guard. His uniform was lighter, and he carried no weapon except a sidearm secured in a black leather hip holster. He took a moment to scan the tree line, looking right at me as he did his sweep, but continuing on, unable to see me through the thick growth.

  As he completed his scan, he pulled a pair of mirrored sunglasses from a chest pocket, and slipped them on with practiced ease. He then pulled a cigar from his other chest pocket. He motioned to the guard, who immediately came over and offered a lighter to his superior. The officer puffed rapidly on his cigar, green orbs of smoke rising like morse code, until he finally pulled away, the cigar fully lit. He said something to his subordinate and waved his arms dismissively, calling his troops back out of the house.

  The troops filed outside and into the back of the truck. Then the officer got into the passenger seat. I watched as the truck bounced its way down the main road out of the village. I forced myself to remain hidden for a couple of minutes. I needed to find Mercury, but I didn't want any more surprises either.

  The bugs were ravenous, biting me with a ferocity I'd only ever seen in coastal Louisiana, or on tiny undeveloped islands in the Florida Keys. The constant bites finally spurred me to action. I got up to leave the bushes and head for the villa, but someone else was already coming to check it out. It was a child with an arm full of groceries. Pancho! Suddenly, I had another idea.

  The boy stopped short of the house, transfixed, his big brown eyes locked on the busted door. I moved to the very edge of the jungle and whispered as loudly as I dared.

  Psst! "Pancho!"

  The boy didn't move. I tried again, and again he stood still. Finally, I let out a short whistle, and that did the trick. He broke out of his stupor and began looking for the source of the noise. I moved out of the bushes so he could see me and waved him over. He dropped the groceries in the dirt and ran to me in a full sprint.

  "Señor! You're OK," the boy said, as he came to a stop near me. His eyes glistened as tears streaked down his face.

  I knelt down to speak with him, and he leapt forward, wrapping his arms around me. His whole body shook as he sobbed. "Yes, I'm OK," I said, trying to comfort him.

  "But Doctor Blatt. Why did the army come and take him away?" the boy asked.

 
"I don't know," I lied. "I'm sure they'll let him go soon. Have the troops left the village?"

  Pancho sniffed back tears and wiped his nose. "Yes. They are all gone now. But the house. I don't understand why they would do that. Why would they damage such an old house? Why?" He cried again. Despite the shock and stress of the day, his English remained excellent, almost as if it was his native tongue.

  "They were looking for something, Pancho. But they weren't the only ones. There was a woman, too. Have you seen any new women in the village? Someone you don't recognize?"

  "Yes! Yes!" He replied excitedly. "She is staying in the hotel. I saw her when she came in this morning. It is not every day we have visitors. My papa says she flew here. No one, except the military, ever flies here. One time, four tourists landed at the airstrip. But that was before I was born."

  "Do you know where in the hotel she is staying?" I asked, hoping.

  "No. But Señor Alvarez might. He is the hotel owner." All effects of his worry and the abduction of Miles Blatt had disappeared from his body language and face. Now he stood before me bubbling with energy, wanting nothing more than to be helpful, looking for any way to help save Dr. Blatt. Children truly have an amazing capacity for dealing with the trials life throws at them, and I despised myself for it, but I put his exuberance to work.

  "Pancho, can you find out from Señor Alvarez which room she's in? I need to have a talk with her," I said, and then added, "She may be able to help us free Dr. Blatt."

  "Yes, I can do this," he replied, giddy at the chance to help.

  "Thank you, Pancho. And if you see her leaving, come get me, immediately," I instructed.

  "Yes sir, I will."

  "Alright, go on now. I'll wait for you over there," I said, pointing to a small hill barely visible in the untamed jungle near the hotel. There I would have the perfect vantage point to stakeout the establishment.

  Pancho nodded an acknowledgment and headed off for the entrance to the big white hotel at a run. I scanned the windows and balconies but saw no one. I then picked my way through the brush to the small hill and began my surveillance.

  The hotel was massive by the standards of the village. Abnormally so. There were enough windows, and I assumed rooms, to house the entire population. Pancho had mentioned visitors were rare. I found it odd such a large hotel stayed in business with no patrons.

  While it may have been open, it was obvious business had not been good. Moss and vines covered large swaths of the white wood siding, and what had once been a regal lawn and garden was overgrown and infested with weeds. The place had history, and may have been a favored retreat for the businessmen and tycoons who ruled Havana before the revolution. Now it was little more than a ruin waiting for the jungle to reclaim it.

  All of the upstairs windows had been flung wide open, inviting what little breeze found its way through the jungle. There were several balconies, some of which looked dangerously lopsided, others as if they had recently been rebuilt. All of them had closed doors except one. It was there I found what I was looking for.

  Movement from the room caught my eye and there she was. Jaye Mercury. She had changed from the army green shirt she had worn a short while ago to a black long sleeve shirt. She wore the same gray pants she had before, except now a utility belt hung from her hips with several pouches. But I was too far away to see what they contained. Her pants were tucked into her boots and she had tied her hair back in a tight bun. She had to be going after the idol. My only chance at getting the artifact would be to follow her.

  But where was Pancho? He'd been gone far too long. I alternated my gaze from Jaye on the balcony to the front door of the hotel and finally saw him. He was walking casually, munching on a banana like he didn't have a care in the world. "Hurry up, kid." I whispered to myself, willing him to move faster.

  He was heading back to where we had departed, several hundred feet from where I now was. "Where are you going, kid?" I wondered. I watched him until he eventually disappeared into the jungle. Unable to track him farther, I turned my attention back to the woman in the hotel.

  She stretched, bent down, and then threw a large backpack over her shoulder. Damn! She's leaving. She shut the slatted wood doors to the balcony behind her and was gone from my view. I kept my eyes glued to the front entrance. She had to come out, eventually. I was so focused on looking for my mark that I didn't hear Pancho sneak up behind me until he was almost in arm's reach.

  I jumped when he spoke, "Señor, she is there. Fourth upstairs window from the left," he said with a conspiratorial tone.

  "Jesus, kid! You startled me." I said, taking a moment to compose myself before continuing. "Thanks for doing that, Pancho."

  "Now what?" The boy asked, eager to help.

  "Now I wait for her to leave. Does the hotel have a back door?" I asked, suddenly realizing there may be more than one entrance.

  "Yes, of course," he replied.

  "Damnit," I muttered. The building was too large, I couldn't cover both entrances.

  My luck however held out. Jaye emerged from the front door, armed with her backpack and a machete. She took a look up at the sun and then headed straight for us.

  "Be very quiet, don't let her know we're here," I told Pancho as she moved closer, entering the jungle a hundred feet from where we hid. I laid on the dirt, flattening myself as much as possible, and felt Pancho do the same, mimicking my movements despite the puzzled look on his youthful face.

  I could hear the rhythmic twack twack of her machete as she cut her way through the brush and vines. When the sounds faded, I allowed myself up and looked over to my young companion.

  "Go home, Pancho. You've been a big help, but I have to do this part alone," I told him in hushed tones.

  "Where are you going?" He asked, as worry crept onto his face.

  "She knows where the thing Doctor Blatt was looking for is. I'm going to get it before she does. It'll help me free Doctor Blatt if I can get it first."

  I didn't know if that was true or not, but Bardales would have no reason to hold the man once the idol was gone. Surely he'd let an academic go, imprisoning him would bring down a lot of heat from the international community.

  "What if she gets it first?" he asked.

  "Then I'll go rescue Doctor Blatt myself!" I promised. The man had kept me from the army's clutches. If I could repay the favor, I would.

  A range of emotions played across the boy's face. Hope, sadness, despair, and finally resignation. Pancho's mouth turned downward into a heartbreaking pout, but he made no move to follow me. The sounds of the machete were little more than a faint whisper now, and I knew I had to get going. It felt wrong leaving him, but if I didn't go now, I might lose the woman in this dense jungle. I started to leave, but Pancho grabbed my hand.

  "Señor, there is a legend in our village about what you are looking for. They say it is cursed, many people have looked for La Alma del Taino, and many have never come back. They say its resting place is dangerous. Please. Be careful."

  "I will," I promised him, touched by his concern. "Take care, Pancho."

  "Vaya con dios, señor Hawkins."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Branches sliced and stabbed at me through my thin shirt, drawing blood as I stumbled through the tropical rainforest for the third straight hour. My wounds weren't enough to worry about, but my jealousy of Mercury's machete had grown with each fresh cut. The only tools I had were my hands, a multitool, and an increasingly foul mood.

  When I first started following her, the going had been slow. Jaye had to hack through the jungle for some distance before she came across a narrow but navigable path. I had all the grace of a rhinoceros, and following her in the thick growth had been difficult. Twigs snapped under each footfall, and I continuously rubbed up against branches, causing trees and bushes to shake. I had to stay well behind her to avoid giving myself away. Once she made it to the path, tracking her became much easier. But with the more open terrain, it forced me to follow her at an
even greater distance.

  I wound along the trail, following the shorn palm fronds and vines that lined the trail for over an hour. The cut vegetation was all I had to reassure myself that I was on her tail. Occasionally, the trail would open up a bit. I made better progress when that happened, but sometimes I moved too fast. More than once I got close enough to hear the regular swish and thwack of her machete. Each time I'd have to force myself to stop for a while and let her increase her lead again. This game of cat and mouse continued all the way through the first hour as we wound our way up the mountains and hills.

  The path we were following ended in a small clearing. Shattered boulders and large rocks slashed across the trail, forming a natural barricade. Uprooted trees lay half exposed under some of the larger boulders, and a clear path of destruction continued down the mountainside. It was here, in the jumbled mess of a rockslide, where Jaye decided to take a break, and it was here I nearly gave myself away.

  I had been moving at my faster pace, listening for the sounds of her clearing the brush but hearing nothing. As I came up the path, I suddenly saw her reclining on a large flat rock alongside the path. She was reaching into her bag with her back to me. Reacting on pure instinct, I ducked into the dense jungle alongside the path. Her silence had lured me into a false sense of security, and I'd have to be more careful going forward. I circled around her, pausing every few feet to watch her for any signal she had seen or heard me. If she had, she didn't make any outward sign of it. Relieved, I continued circling her, slipping through the trees and branches until I made it to the collection of boulders and stones laying across the path. I slithered my way up to one of the higher rocks to watch her.

  Jaye took a swig from a water bottle before pulling some equipment from her backpack. She neatly laid her gear out on the rock near her. It wasn't much. A small orange GPS device laid on a well-worn topographical map. Next to the map was a plain manila folder bursting with papers it could hardly contain. Sitting on the rock above all of this was a cheap handheld compass.