The Flaming Mountain: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story
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CHAPTER XV
Stalemate
Governor Luis Montoya paced the floor of his office. Seated in thecomfortable chairs were the Spindrift scientists, Captain Montoya, andthe boys.
"We are in a difficult situation," the governor stated. "Guevaracontrols the army, and the army controls the area in which you mustwork. We need the army if we are to evacuate the island. My nephew andhis fellow police are efficient, but their number is too small."
"Is there any possibility of getting outside help?" Hartson Brant asked.
"I am afraid not. Our difficult political situation makes it almostimpossible to obtain any fast action. We would need to approach threegovernments at the same time. They would have to have conferences, toagree on how the help was to be given. Each would be afraid to let theother help, you see, for fear of giving up its claim to sovereignty overus. No, I'm afraid we must find our own solution."
"You are the governor," Hobart Zircon pointed out. "Wouldn't the troopsrespond to your orders?"
The governor shrugged. "You can be sure our efficient lieutenantgovernor has his own men in key positions. But what you suggest hasoccurred to me, and I must make the attempt. First, however, I mustalert the people of the island. The danger must be described to them."
"How?" Julius Weiss asked.
"By radio. We have our own government radio here. I think Esteben and Ishould go on the air at once. He can describe what is going on under ElViejo. I will ask the people to assemble at the docks." He turned to hisnephew. "Ricardo, send two of your most trusted men to Redondo and SanSouci. They must persuade the fishermen to load their families andvillagers, then come to Calor. We will need to crowd all fishing boatsfor many trips if we are to get the people off."
"At once, senor," Montoya replied. He hurried to the door and gaveorders to the police guard. The handful of police were now the solesecurity force of the island. The chief of police was personallysupervising the government's safety, somewhere outside the building.Only two officers were still on regular police duty. The rest wereeither guarding the executive office or awaiting orders.
"Where can the people be taken?" Balgos asked.
"I think we will send them to Curacao and Bonaire. Those islands areclose, and they belong to the Netherlands. The Dutch are hospitable, no?And we avoid entanglement with England, Venezuela, and Colombia."
It sounded reasonable to Rick. He asked, "Aren't there ships in theharbor? I mean, big ships?"
"One freighter, and two interisland cargo ships of the C-1 class. Allthree fly the flag of Panama. We will have the harbor master speak totheir captain and attempt to hire them. I am sure they will co-operate."
"I'm sure that if you asked for help from the United States they'd sendall available U. S. Navy ships in the area," Dr. David Riddle said.
The governor smiled warmly. "That is our ace in the hole, as you wouldcall it, Senor Riddle. The world knows that the Americans are alwaysready to help. But perhaps there will be no need. We will see."
The building shook slightly and Rick waited, holding his breath. But thetemblor subsided. It was the third one within an hour, he thought. Themagma must be moving fast.
"Now, gentlemen, I must get busy. Ricardo, I leave the details of movingour people in your hands. I will go to the roadblocks and see if thesesoldiers can be persuaded that their governor speaks for the people. Butfirst, Esteben, you and I will go to the government radio and speak tothe people. Our talk will be put on tape, and repeated over and over._Vamos._ Let us go. Time is getting short."
At Montoya's request, Rick and Scotty had agreed to remain with thegovernor, in company with two police sergeants. The scientists returnedto the hotel, to continue their attempts to predict the magma movementbased on data already in hand. New data would be obtained as soon as thesituation cleared up.
The governor, Balgos, Rick, Scotty, and the governor's secretary drovein the official car, a huge American import. The two police sergeantsled the way in one of the island's two police cruisers.
The radio station was only a few blocks away. These were the studios.The transmitter was on the coast a mile south of Calor. Rick was pleasedto see that the equipment was modern, the staff apparently efficient.
A musical program was interrupted and the governor and Balgos put on theair at once. Rick's Spanish was too poor to permit him to follow thediscussion, but he gathered that the governor told the people of thescientific mission, and then Balgos described the situation. Thegovernor returned to the mike with a plea for instant evacuation.
Tape recorders rolled while the speech was on. At the governor's orders,the tapes would be replayed every hour on the hour from now on.
It was getting very late. The night was warm and pleasant, and theclouds had vanished leaving a brilliant moon shining down on San Luz. Itwas a lovely island, Rick thought. The greed of two men, Connel andGuevara, had prevented any possibility of action to save it. Now,evacuation of the people was the only possibility.
Ricardo Montoya met the governor's party as they emerged from thestudios. He reported rapidly to his uncle, speaking English in courtesyto the Americans.
"Men are on the way to the fishing villages, senor. The harbor master isspeaking to the ships in the harbor, and already one C-1 is agreeing totake the people. I have spoken with the airlines managers at theairport, and they are trying to obtain many aircraft from the nearbycities. Your own aircraft is being made ready for instant take-off."
It was the first Rick had heard of a government plane. "What kind isit?" he asked.
"A very ancient, but very reliable Douglas, of the DC-3 type. We hold itin reserve, Rick. Your scientists, the governor, and our police will bethe last to leave the island. I have counted the numbers. If you cancarry four, our plane will carry the rest."
Rick nodded. It was nice to know there would be a way out, even thoughhe hadn't considered the necessity until that moment. He was gladRicardo Montoya was thinking ahead.
"Now," the governor stated, "I must visit the army."
"I will go with you," the police captain said instantly.
"No, Ricardo. There is too much for you to do. I will be safe. There isno enemy but Guevara. No soldier would harm me."
Rick admired the little governor's courage, but he wasn't as sure oftheir safety as the old man seemed to be. "I think we'd better bearmed," Scotty said.
Ricardo Montoya had met them in the island's other police cruiser. Hesaid, "Wait," and hurried to the car. Pulling down the rear seat, hedisclosed a gunrack. From it he drew two riot guns, automatic shotgunswith short barrels.
"Can you use these?" he asked.
Scotty nodded an affirmative. "Both Rick and I have fired automaticshotguns on a skeet range. These can't be much different."
"They are not. The safety is behind the trigger guard. There is no shellin the chamber now, but there are nine in the magazine. Go with God,senores."
The governor's car with its police escort rolled through the streets ofCalor, en route to the roadblock at the hotel road. Rick and Scotty heldthe riot guns, both hoping that they would not be needed.
The governor chatted calmly, as though this were simply a routinesightseeing trip. "Few Americans come to San Luz. We had hoped thatperhaps an advertising campaign might bring more of you to our island.We have much to offer, you will agree. Have you tried our swimming yet?I appreciate there has been little opportunity for pleasure."
The boys answered politely, but neither could really get into the swingof the conversation. It took a kind of experience they did not yet have,to talk of casual things while en route to what might be genuine danger.
The governor's secretary called over his shoulder, "There is theroadblock, senor. How shall I approach?"
"Drive up to it, Juan. Be very casual."
Rick fingered the safety on his riot gun. He could see dark figures atthe barricade fence.
The car drew to a stop. The governor said quietly, "Perhaps you hadbetter stand by the car. Do not let your g
uns be seen. If necessary, youwill know what to do."
One boy got out on either side, leaving the car doors open. The doorsshielded them and the riot guns. The governor got out and walked brisklyto the barricade and spoke in Spanish.
It was light enough so Rick could see the men at the barricade clearly.He realized suddenly that they were not dressed as the soldiers had beenearlier; these men seemed to be farmers. But they had rifles, and twohand grenades hanging from their belts.
He couldn't follow the exchange in Spanish. The governor was talking ina quiet voice with one man who was better dressed than the rest. Theman's voice was cultured, but mocking in tone.
Rick heard the secretary draw in his breath sharply, and hesurreptitiously got ready to pump a shell into the riot gun's chamber.But nothing happened. Esteben Balgos muttered, "This is unbelievable!"
Then the governor was coming back. He got into the car and spokequietly. "Back to Calor, Juan."
The boys got in and closed the doors. The secretary swung the big cararound and headed back the way they had come. Governor Montoya took timeto light an aromatic cigar. Only when it was going well did he speak.
"An interesting talk, senores. Those were not soldiers, but thepeons--how do you say it?--tenant farmers of Jaime Guevara. The man withwhom I talked is his foreman. They have replaced the troops at allbarricades, and their loyalty is only to Guevara."
"But the troops?" Balgos asked.
"Either guarding the volcanic pipe or working in it. I am told thatGuevara is now the governor of the island. He has taken over. If I tryto resist, it will mean bloodshed. If I leave the island, all willremain quiet and peaceful."
"That's nonsense!" Rick exploded. "Guevara can't get away with it!"
"No? He is getting away with it, Senor Rick. We have a dozen policemen;he has the army. He also has his own men, at key points. So what can wedo? We haven't enough force to fight. Besides, there is no time. Wecan't arm the people because we have neither weapons nor time."
"But what can we do?" Scotty demanded.
"I do not know. At least we can continue our efforts to get the peopleoff the island. Without the ability to make scientific readings, wecannot know how much time is left, so we must hurry. We will do the bestwe can. After that--well, you had a Spanish song in America that says itwell. You recall the title? '_Que sera sera._'"
Rick remembered. An expression of fatalism. What will be, will be.