This was the test. Would they completely commit to her service, cutting all ties behind them?
San Luis was no more brightly lit than the airport in Tulcán. It was even smaller. A single hangar that might hold three personal planes and a terminal building for no more than thirty people. The two-story control tower perched among a pretty garden, and the reader board announced one flight per day. Which was one more scheduled flight per day than Tulcán currently boasted though it was twice the size.
“You can leave your weapons here if you like,” Daniela said casually as if it was no more than a suggestion.
“Why would we do that?” Chad braced himself for a fight.
That’s when he noticed that he’d lost track of Silva. Not good. Very not good.
Tanya was watching the far side of the hangar.
For what?
Chad tried to brace for the worst, but wasn’t sure what it would be. A cartel’s worth of shooters hiding around the back of the hangar awaiting Silva’s leadership? A hidden explosive in the plane that Silva didn’t want to be killed by when he triggered it to wipe out the three of them? Or—
A five-year old Toyota SUV with a battered front quarter panel pulled around the corner and rolled up close beside them with Silva at the wheel.
“Or you can tuck your rifles in the back of the truck. They’ll be safe there. No one would touch my truck or my plane.”
“Where are we going?” He knew it was bad form to ask that of a new leader, especially one who just might run a massive, illegal drug smuggling operation. But he didn’t want to leave his rifle anywhere.
“To Las Lajas neighborhood down the road,” Daniela tossed her M4 in the plane’s cargo compartment, then closed the little door before crossing to the SUV and sliding into the passenger seat. “Time for breakfast soon. You can wait here if you want, but I don’t run a take-away service.”
Chad squinted up at the sky. The stars that had guided them through the night were slowly fading. Though there was no other sign yet, dawn would soon be approaching over the tops of the Andes.
“Breakfast sounds good,” Tanya slipped her rifle behind the rear seat of the SUV and climbed in. Wondering if he’d just failed some test, Chad lay his rifle to nestle beside hers, then climbed in as well.
They wound through the small city of Ipiales but didn’t slow. Only a few kilometers from the airport, but the drive was long enough for the sky to lighten. By the time they entered the town, lights were coming on in several of the houses. Ipiales sprawled over the hills, rarely reaching a third story. A few office buildings on the hill towered to an impressive six, but the twin steeples of a not very impressive church dominated the town easily though it lay in the lower swale of the valley that defined Ipiales.
There were a couple of food stalls already up and open for business and the smells had Chad’s mouth watering.
He knew about these. They were for the early workers who would service the rest of the people when they got up. From Indonesia to Somalia to the back alleys of Detroit, it was always the same. The cheapest, and often the best, food was very simple. These early vendors’ clients didn’t have money for fancy spices or widely varied meals. A corn arepo smeared with thick white cheese. Another wrapped around a fistful of white rice with peppers and chorizo sausage. Eaten quietly. The only talk was of what prospects the next day held, passing in soft whispers between chewing and sips of dark Colombian coffee.
But Silva didn’t stop. He didn’t turn in at any of the likely looking restaurantes either. Instead, he drove through town until they ran out of town. Beyond Ipiales, they entered a small hamlet that still lay wholly asleep. They seemed about to pass this by as well, but instead turned onto a small lane that wound past a few houses and suddenly rolled into a land of darkness. Another few houses went by on the right.
To the left, the landscape was wholly transformed. The crossing from San Luis Airport to Ipiales had been through the same type of rugged farmland that they had walked over for much of the night. It had smelled of dark soil, fresh growth, a heavy rain only a few days gone by.
Here, the hamlet perched on a knife-edge cliff. A river gorge plunged through a deep cleft in the mountains, its bottom lost in darkness despite the pink and gold light already dusting the land. The road crawled along the cliff edge as if clinging for life—the chasm lay so deep in shadow that seemed to go down forever. The cliff edge wove in and out, which must mimic dark twists and turns of the river far below.
He was watching the road’s edge, so close by the SUV’s wheels, with no guard rail, when Tanya gasped. He spun to face her, his sidearm half-drawn, but she was looking out the windshield.
He looked.
Blinked hard.
Looked again.
Blinked again.
But it was still there.
“I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”
“Me either,” Tanya whispered softly.
“Santuario de Las Lajas,” Daniela stated as if that explained everything. “The Las Lajas Sanctuary or literally, the Sanctuary of the Slabs. There has been a church here for almost three hundred years. Ever since the miracle of the deaf-mute child who spoke aloud in amazement when she saw a miraculous image of Mary and Jesus etched into the rock. The cathedral that replaced the old church is approaching its first century.”
Sticking out from the cliff wall, like William Tell’s arrow after it split the apple and slammed into the tree, was a Gothic cathedral. It didn’t make any sense, but there it was. Its central spire towered fifteen stories above the bridge that supported it. Gray stone rose in pointed arches and flying buttresses, bracketing stained glass windows between. The windows glowed from candlelight that yet managed to overpower the coming dawn.
“It is an amazing place to watch the sunrise,” Daniela said as Silva parked the car and they all climbed out.
They descended through a narrow paved lane of closed tourist shops and down a broad stone staircase. All along the right-hand cliff face were plaques. Chad pulled out a small flash to see them more clearly. Hundreds, maybe thousands, in all shapes and sizes had been cemented in place.
“They are placed by pilgrims giving thanks to the Virgin Mary. Some for deliverance from disease. Some for a joyous marriage. Some for a peaceful death.”
“Do you have one here?” Tanya asked with a perception that Chad hadn’t had.
They completed the descent of the broad stairway and Chad had repocketed his flashlight before Daniela spoke again.
“I did. I don’t.”
She’d been thankful for something, so thankful she had commissioned a plaque to the Holy Virgin. And lived long enough to learn the nasty truth and take it back down. If Chad had a plaque made, what would he put on it? What would survive long enough that he wouldn’t want to take it down again? He was thankful for a lot of things, but it didn’t take a genius to know that nothing lasted long enough to cement a plaque to a wall. What had la Capitana once been so naive to tack up there? He considered asking, but decided it was the woman’s own business. Probably some hot lover who’d shafted her—and not in a good way.
“The sunrise is best from the bridge. The cathedral stays in shadow at first light and only emerges during the day.”
The bridge spanning the deep gorge and the river below was nearly as broad as the church. It was paved with great square stones. Carved balustrades ran down either side of the area almost as big as a soccer field. Atop them, angels with trumpets, harps, and other musical instruments were perched at intervals—some watching the heavens, others watching over the people below.
The rapids were audible, echoing up the canyon walls with a dull roar. Chad moved to one side and, looking way down, he could see the white foam churning over the rocks. There was a clear span of dark water directly below, but it was a rough river.
“Forty meters?” He asked Tanya, mostly to check in with her.
“Closer to fifty.”
Fifteen stories from river to canyon-span
ning bridge. And the cathedral towered above them for another fifteen. It was one of the most peculiar and powerful sights he’d ever seen.
All his years of hanging out in the backs of Detroit churches for warmth had left him with little belief in anything. He’d seen the worst of men stroll in, ask forgiveness, and stride out as if a priest’s blessing meant something. Even the priests didn’t buy in on that.
But there was something majestic here. Someone had thought this one place important enough to erect a Gothic cathedral in the wilderness of the Colombian Andes.
The rising sun touched a high peak to the west first, catching it like a torch. Then the tops of the canyon walls. The first beam of sunlight splashed down upon them like God’s hand striking down from the sky. The uppermost edge of the sun shone through the high notch of a twist in the canyon.
“Did Ra the Sun God hang out around here? Cause if so, he could make a believer out of me.”
“No,” Daniela said quietly. “But it might be the work of Inti, he was the Incan sun god who worked around here.”
“Whoever thought this landscape up was an amazing dude.”
“She was. Pachamama was the Incan Mother Earth,” Daniela acknowledged. “Now…jump.”
Tanya knew she was missing something.
“Jump?” Chad sounded as bewildered as she felt.
Then there was the ominous sound of the safety coming off on two separate weapons at the same time, and neither of them was hers.
She turned very slowly.
Daniela no longer stood beside them. Daniela was nowhere to be seen. She had morphed back into being la Capitana. She had also eased away until she stood halfway across the twenty-pace span of the bridge with her pistol leveled at Tanya’s chest. At ten paces with her weapon already drawn, she was too far away to charge.
Silva stood well out of reach, an additional ten meters along the bridge toward the cathedral.
The three of them had shed their rifles to “go to town.”
Silva had not.
He had an Uzi knockoff aimed at Chad’s chest. But Tanya didn’t doubt how fast he could sweep the Uzi across Chad and onto her.
“ ‘Jump’ you say?” Chad’s Mr. Casual tone was back, but Tanya knew it wouldn’t do him any good.
“Ten seconds,” la Capitana’s voice was cold.
“You know…” Chad glanced at Tanya and tipped his head toward the balustrade.
And Tanya knew exactly what he was thinking. “No, Chad. Just… No!”
“But we…” Yes, they’d done it before, just two days ago out of a helicopter and over a waterfall.
“Just because we did, doesn’t mean I want to do it again.”
“Chicken. Buc-buc-buc-bu-caw!” Chad started dancing in little circles with his thumbs tucked in his armpits, flapping his elbows like a psychotic chicken.
“Five,” la Capitana called out.
“You stay out of this!” Tanya pointed a finger at the woman aiming the gun at Tanya’s heart. First she had to get Chad straightened around.
Except Chad was anything but stupid. But she didn’t know what his play was.
However, he did. And would be pushing her internal buttons to get the reaction he wanted. Damn him! He should not know so much about her.
But not daring to do anything other than play out her role, she forged ahead.
“I’m not jumping to my death on some childish dare by you!” She stabbed her finger at Chad this time. “Her? Maybe. You? No way in hell!”
“Buc-buc-bu-caw!” Chad crowed as he circled again.
“It won’t work, you know,” la Capitana said almost conversationally. “I’ll shoot him first, if you like—it might be a kindness. But I won’t be distracted so easily.”
“Aw, and I had such high hopes,” Chad stopped like a deflated little boy.
Then he dove to the pavement and shot Silva.
At the same instant, Tanya dodged away from Chad, drawing la Capitana’s attention toward her as Chad continued his roll to take the woman out at her knees.
Except she wasn’t there.
She’d hopped over the rolling Chad and landed lightly on her feet despite his attempt to grapple her as he passed beneath her.
Tanya had her weapon out now, but la Capitana…didn’t. Instead, she folded her arms lightly across her chest and looked at Tanya.
Tanya swung her weapon to point at the sky but didn’t holster it.
“You haven’t shot me,” la Capitana said in a perfectly calm voice.
“Why not?” Chad looked up at Tanya.
“She doesn’t want me to. That’s not the point.” Tanya knew that much at least. And Chad, of course, knew that, but was feeding her the next line.
Silva groaned. “I hate this part.” He sat up slowly, rubbing at his left breast—directly over his heart. “Someday someone is going to fire armor-piercing bullets. Or shoot me in the face. Double vest and it still hurts like a bitch in heat.”
Which explained why they’d been told to leave their rifles behind. Her MSG90 might not have made it through the armor, but it definitely would have broken some ribs even if it hadn’t. Chad’s powerful Lapua would barely hesitate before plowing through both Silva’s armor and Silva.
“Very few succeed in hitting you at all,” Daniela noted. Her persona had come back from the austerely beautiful cartel leader to the lovely-though-still-dangerous woman.
Tanya and Chad glanced at each other just as the sun finally cleared the canyon wall and shone full upon them.
“Why the risk?” Tanya asked because it was clear that Chad wanted her to continue as the “brains” of their team.
“Risk?” Daniela nodded toward the Gothic cathedral. High up the spires, the sun finally caught light—the sharp, hard light that might be reflected off a rifle’s scope. Daniela had a sniper up there watching them. No more than fifty meters away—flight time roughly five hundredths of a second—Tanya would have been dead before she could fully lower her weapon to fire. She’d just come within an instant of death—wasn’t the first time. She wasn’t dead, so it wasn’t that big a deal. She holstered her weapon.
Chad still lay on his side on the ground, like he was some lounging lady from a girlie magazine—elbow to the ground, head propped on his fist. Tanya stepped over him, sat on his hip, and stared at Daniela.
“How many are so fearful that they jump?”
Daniela shrugged, “Half.”
“Of which almost none survive, but la Capitana no longer cares about them.”
Daniela nodded an acknowledgement of Tanya knowing her identity.
“But you have no use for team members who aren’t brave. How many beg?”
“Most of the other half.”
“Do you toss their bodies down or do you chase them away? Never mind. Don’t answer.” Tanya knew the choice she would make if their roles were reversed—some secrets were best protected, including la Capitana’s recruiting techniques. Tanya didn’t much like the brutal choice or that she knew she’d do the same herself if their roles were reversed.
“And the ones who fight?”
“They are the ones I need,” Daniela continued, standing at perfect ease. “I need the brave, the daring…and the smart.” She made a hand gesture, and Tanya could see the distant sniper leave his position in the spire and head down.
Tanya could feel Chad’s grunt of acknowledgement through his hip and her butt.
Had he guessed all that in the split second after they’d been told to jump and before he’d started his chicken dance? It would explain why he’d shot Silva in the heart rather than a spinal-cord cutter in through the nose. At this distance, he could have hit either easily, even while diving to the pavement.
“And how do you tell if we’re traitors trying to infiltrate your operation?”
“By how you walk.”
“By how we walk?”
“Yes,” and again Daniela waited.
“Because…we don’t walk like soldiers.”
Tanya hoped that Daniela didn’t recall the conversation along the stream of how the levels past a first-degree black belt was about unlearning all of the patterns. It was the first “miss” Tanya spotted in la Capitana’s amazing skill set—she didn’t fully understand Special Operations. Operator training was like none other in the world, whether it was American Delta, British SAS, or Israeli Kidon. All the patterns of military weren’t trained out—they were discarded, wholesale, and replaced with flow and presence.
She and Chad had passed the test because they were too good. How narrow a group was that? Tanya considered the range and span of the test and decided she and Chad were lucky to be alive.
As they approached the cathedral, a priest opened the front doors. Before they stepped in, a man with an M16A4 and a Leupold Mark 4 scope stepped out. He offered them a pleasant nod before continuing on his way—just a friendly neighborhood sniper. He carried the rifle with the ease of deep familiarity. Chad knew his guess had been right: come up with a solution fast—or die even faster. But he’d thought it was a final desperate play.
He’d shot Silva in the chest because his diving roll had already twisted him too far to get an angle on the man’s head.
Tanya was the one who’d taken it to the next level by not shooting Daniela.
The cathedral’s shadow was like a cool curtain across the already warm sun, inviting them to climb the broad stone steps.
Inside, the cathedral was a wonder.
Great white pillars rose to a midlevel golden collar. Soaring high above that, the great arches of the long nave crisscrossed like a golden web over the white stonework. Though the direct sun had yet to brush the outside, the windows shone with blue, gold, and clear glass, making the church seem too bright to be possible. The only remaining interior light was a small lamp behind the altar.
Midnight Trust Page 14
