The Gems of Tsingy De Bemaraha

by Roger Weston

  Kelly walked up to them cautiously. “What did you find?” she asked.

  Paul told her about the bodies. The color drained out of her face. Jawara said nothing to Paul, but looked around warily.

  “Get your suits off,” Paul told Otto and the pilot. Then a movement in the bushes fifty yards downriver caught his attention.

  CHAPTER 45

  Paul lifted his shotgun. “Kelly, check to make sure the suit isn’t damaged, then put it on. I'll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Kelly asked.

  “Something moved down there. If there's any shooting, be ready to take cover behind that knoll.”

  He walked toward the bushes, wary of what he might find. He prayed that it wasn't Abu Bakr's men or they were all in serious trouble. When he rounded the bush, he saw a skinny guy lying on the ground. He wore tattered clothes and blood leaked out of what appeared to be a gunshot wound to his thigh. Although the man lay on his back, Paul guessed he couldn't have been much more than five feet tall.

  Seeing Paul in the bee suit close up, the man tried to get up and scramble away, but the wound on his thigh was too much and he collapsed.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” Paul said. “Who did this to you?”

  The man dragged himself up onto his hands and knees and started frantically crawling away despite his nonexistent chance of escape.

  “I want to help you,” Paul said. “To stop the men who did this.”

  The little man kept crawling. Then Paul got an idea. “I'm a friend of Ryan Lebarge's.”

  The man stopped crawling and sprawled out on the ground, propping himself up by leaning on his elbow

  “You know him?” Paul asked.

  “I know of him. He came through a few years back. But he is no more.”

  “He’s dead?” Paul felt a wave of disappointment sweep over him. Kelly’s determination and confidence had started to make him to believe that maybe his old friend was still alive. Maybe he had survived.

  “I was told so.”

  “By who?”

  “My brother.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “I will take care of your wound. In return I need you to take me to your brother.”

  “I cannot do that,” Gabriel said. “The men from the helicopter killed him.”

  “A helicopter? When?”

  “The men with guns landed and chased us. They followed the others downstream.”

  “How long ago?”

  “A few hours.”

  Paul shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”

  Gabriel lay all the way down on the ground. He held onto his thigh, and his body shook.

  Paul noticed that the others were now walking towards him. “Kelly, come here.” he said. He looked at Gabriel. “Tell her what you just told me.”

  Gabriel nodded slightly.

  Kelly walked over to them. She brushed a tangle of red hair out of her eyes and looked down at Gabriel and said, “What happened?”

  “Shot by Abu Bakr’s men. He has to tell you something. It’s not good.”

  She tightened the grip on her gun.

  “What is it?”

  Paul nodded at Gabriel.

  He let go of his leg, groaned slightly and said, “Ryan is dead.”

  Kelly didn't move.

  “I'm sorry,” Paul said.

  “How do you know?” Kelly asked the man.

  “My brother saw him killed, by the same kind of men as shot me.”

  A moist film covered Kelly's eye. She stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. She went about twenty paces then dropped to her knees and started crying. Her back shook with waves of grief.

  “You are Ryan’s friends?” Gabriel said.

  “She’s his fiancé.”

  Gabriel shifted his gaze toward her.

  Paul turned back toward Kelly. He started in her direction to comfort her, but then hesitated.

  “Call her back,” Gabriel said.

  “Why?”

  “I must talk to her,” Gabriel winced as he got up into a sitting position. “He's not dead.”

  Paul didn't know what to say. He looked over at Kelly who was still shaking with grief. Until this moment he hadn't expected to ever hear what he just heard. Sure, he'd brought Kelly here under the guise of finding Ryan, but he was jolted to hear that Ryan was actually alive.

  With all he'd gone through trying to find a man who he thought was dead, it surprised him that he didn’t feel as jubilant as he thought he would be to hear he was alive.

  “How can you be so sure?” Paul asked.

  Gabriel shifted to change his position wincing in pain as he did. “I saw him a few days ago. He is my friend. He is the one who taught me to speak English.”

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I said he is my friend. I've just been shot. I was protecting him.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I must tell her.” Gabriel cringed. “She’s suffering.”

  Paul looked over at Kelly who was still sobbing uncontrollably. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll put a hole in your other leg. You understand me?” He touched his rifle on Gabriel’s leg.

  “I tell the truth.”

  “Kelly,” Paul called.

  She didn't look up.

  “Kelly!”

  Slowly she rose and walked over. She wasn't crying any longer, but her eyes were glazed and moist.

  “He has something to tell you about Ryan.”

  Kelly nodded and then sat down next to Gabriel.

  “Your fiancé is still alive,” he said.

  Kelly’s smoky brown eyes glistened with joy. “Is it true? He really is?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “Oh! He’s alive. I just knew he was.” She gazed at Paul then shifted her eyes back to Gabriel. “Please take me to him.”

  Gabriel pointed toward his bleeding wound. “I cannot walk.”

  Kelly rose, and for a moment her critical eyes met Paul's. “Are you just going to stand around and let him bleed to death? He needs help.”

  Paul went over to where Jawara, Otto, and the pilot stood. He grabbed his backpack and rummaged around for his first aid kit.

  The pilot walked up to him. “I can help him. I've handled trauma wounds before. I was a medical student.”

  “What are you out here flying a copter for a terrorist for then?”

  “I was tormented by ideals and made some bad choices.”

  “You mean signing on with Abu Bakr?”

  “I was angry over all the bloodshed and death I saw America committing in the world. I thought all Americans were murderers. But the longer I've been with Abu Bakr, the more I realize that he is the murderer.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “We are taught to hate America and Israel. I’ve been told that the Jews are no better than pigs. If you lack this sort of fanaticism, you quickly disappear.”

  “Disappear?”

  “Outside of Abu Bakr’s training camp he has a prison. The back door leads to a mass graveyard. If you don’t believe as he does, he will kill you, but you are different. You have compassions for your friends. I will not go back to him, even if it costs my life.”

  Paul nodded in understanding and put his hand on the pilot’s shoulder. “You are a brave man.”

  When they approached Gabriel, the pilot kneeled down next to him. He examined the wound.

  “Will he be able to walk with us?” Paul said.

  The pilot rifled through the first-aid kit. “No, I’m afraid not. He should be okay with some rest, but he cannot walk.”

  “Jawara, Otto, find some sticks and make a stretcher.”

  The two of them began to scout for branches as the pilot went to work on Gabriel’s wound.

  Then Paul walked over to Kelly who was sitting by the river.

  “He’ll be okay. We’ll carry him with us to find Ryan. It shouldn�
��t be long.”

  Kelly gave him a smile as wide and white as a piece of quartz. “I can’t believe we found him,” she gushed. “I’m so excited.”

  “Me, too, Kelly,” he said smiling half-heartedly.

  Then he turned and walked downstream and lay down on a patch of grass.

  As he laid his head down on the grassy bank, he thought about what it meant now that Ryan was alive. He realized Kelly and Ryan would reunite and then she would be gone, and he would be alone again. That was if Abu Bakr's men didn’t find Ryan first.

  Paul thought about what had happened last year between him and Ryan. Trapped by the lure of gems, fear and greed had overrun his soul and caused him to do the unthinkable, but apparently Ryan had survived it, and now he didn’t know if his friend would forgive him or kill him. He didn’t even know if he’d live long enough to find out, but he did know that he couldn’t live with himself any longer. He needed peace. Running from his past wasn’t an option any longer. He would face his demons.

  “I've done what I can for him,” the pilot said, startling Paul out of his dark reflections.

  Paul got up. “Is he ready to travel?”

  “No, I don't recommend it.”

  Kelly was at Gabriel’s side nursing him, and he looked bad. He’d lost a lot of blood and was obviously weak. “Is there another way into the tsingy besides climbing this cliff?” Paul asked him.

  “Yes,” he said, “but the men who shot me have gone that way.”

  Jawara walked over. “The stretcher is ready.”

  Paul looking down at Gabriel said, “Will you show us the way? It may be a little rough, but I can raise you up the cliff with ropes.”

  “I will do it for Ryan,” he said.

  Paul sighed. “Thanks.” He turned to the others, “Okay, let's get moving.”

  “We’re two bee suits short,” Jawara said.

  Paul thought about that for a moment. If this really was the entrance to Ryan’s mine then there would certainly be more bees, “You and the pilot to stay here. I’ll return with the bee suits after I lead the others to a safe place.”

  Jawara nodded his head and slanted a look at the pilot. He sat down on a rock near the stream with his M-16 on his lap.

  Leading the way, Paul and Otto climbed up a series of ridges and rock ascents that would have been easier if angry bees weren't swarming their protective covering. The humming was loud, and their suits were covered. From two hundred feet up, they dropped a rope and then raised Gabriel in his makeshift stretcher. Half way up, a corner of the stretcher caught on a ridge and tipped. Gabriel slid downward in spite of the safety ropes that Paul had rigged. Then the corner slipped free, and the stretcher rocked back and forth.

  When they pulled Gabriel up into the cave, he looked spooked.

  “You alright?” Paul asked.

  “That was close.” Gabriel responded through clenched teeth.

  To get his mind off his pain and fear, Paul asked Gabriel what he and his friends had been doing in such a remote location.

  “We live here,” he said. “We hunt lemurs and we like to be left alone. We’ve seen how people suffer in the villages. Here we have everything we need.” Paul noticed Gabriel relax a little bit so he continued the small talk.

  After several minutes, Kelly climbed up over the ledge.

  Twenty minutes later, he led Kelly and the others into a cave opening that hummed with the largest swarm of bees they had seen. The sweet smell of honey penetrated Paul's mesh face-mask. The floor and the walls of the cave were smooth in the beginning, but the farther they hiked, the more unworldly the cave became. It was an underground world of stalactites and stalagmites that resembled candle wax and formed endless spires of strange beauty. The constant buzzing in the darkness added a weird element to the cave. As Paul walked, he stirred the darkness with the beam of his flashlight. Endless bees flew through the illumination. Fortunately, a strong gust blew down through the tunnel, and the bees slowly faded away.

  When possible, they took turns carrying Gabriel in the stretcher now.

  The cave climbed steadily. At times the walls closed in on them, but generally they had elbow room. Twice they had to get on their hands and knees and Paul had to carry Gabriel on his back to get through them.

  “Be careful not to rip the knees of your suits,” Paul said. They'd gone a long way before all the bees left them; Paul guessed close to a mile. After that, the sound of their steps held a resonant quality that seemed to bounce around them.

  Then they came to a large area where light filtered through natural skylights on the roof of the cave. Paul looked up. Trees from outside covered the openings and filtered the light even more casting shadows on the fallen tree branches that littered the cave floor. In one area, the hard limestone ground had been swept clean around a fire pit.

  “This marks the beginning of the ancient trail,” Gabriel said. “We still have long way to go, though.”

  “We'll rest here then,” Paul said as he and Otto lowered Gabriel to the floor.

  “How much longer until we get there?” Kelly said. “I want to keep moving.”

  “I have to go get Jawara and the pilot and Gabriel needs to rest before we go any farther.” Paul said. He rose and turned to Otto. “Get out of that bee suit.

  Gabriel rolled over onto his side. “Get a fire started first.”

  “No,” Otto said stepping forward. “That would alert Abu Bakr to our whereabouts.”

  “Do as he says,” Paul said. “The smoke will keep the bees away.”

  “He's right,” Kelly said gripping her gun. “Ryan told me that smoke calms them.”

  Otto shook his head as he got started on a fire. Forty minutes later, Paul returned with Jawara and the pilot. Paul kneeled down by Gabriel. “How are you doing?”

  “I'm weak,” Gabriel responded. “But I feel better. Thank you.”

  After stripping to his regular clothes, Paul led the way as Otto and Jawara carried the stretcher and Gabriel gave directions from his place on the stretcher. They wound their way through an endless maze of crevices and tunnels that snaked through the ancient cave system. Paul didn’t know what would happen next. He only knew that they were getting closer to Ryan…and a showdown with Abu Bakr and his men.

  CHAPTER 46

  Abu Bakr held the free end of the rope that was tied around the native's neck, and he followed the wounded man down a trail through the tsingy. The native held a shirt that had been tied tightly under his arm and over his shoulder. As they approached an area with low tsingy cliffs, the native pointed to a wedge-like slab of overhanging limestone. “There,” he said, “the entrance is under there.”

  Abu Bakr stepped up beside him. “Are you sure?”

  “The cave is under there.” He pointed.

  “What about bees?”

  “This is how I come to the river.”

  “Then you can go first. How about that?”

  The native nodded. “I will go.”

  “No,” Abu Bakr said. “You're the only guide we've got.” He looked back at the American called Devin. “You. Get up there and check out that cave.”

  Devin shook his head vigorously. His piercing gray eyes bored in on Abu Bakr. “Hey man, send one of your troops up there. They’re the tough guys. I won’t do you any good. Besides, you need me alive if you want to find that $20 million.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Abu Bakr hesitated. “I’ll have to take that risk.”

  “I won’t go,” Devin said.

  Abu Bakr smirked. “You’d prefer to be shot?” He motioned to a young gunman to carry out the execution.

  “Alright, alright, just settle down, will you? You want me to go up there? You got it. Where's my bee suit?” Devin started to take off his brown suede jacket.

  “We left them behind with the men who fell off the cliff.”

  “Then send one of your goons back to get them.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Get going.”

  “You w
ant me to go in without a protective suit? What kind of lunatic are you?”

  Abu Bakr walked over to him and pushed the end of his AK-47 into his cheek. “I can shoot you now or you can try your luck with the cave.”

  Devin dropped to his knees. “Oh, god, please, don't do this to me. I don't deserve this.”

  “I've never met anyone more deserving,” Abu Bakr said.

  Devin grabbed onto Abu Bakr's pant leg. “Please, please don't do this.”

  Abu Bakr punched him in the back of his neck. “Get your hands off of me!”

  Devin's face hit the ground. When he lifted it, grass stuck to his chin.

  Devin's torso writhed with terror. “I don't want to die.”

  “You coward,” he said in an almost tender tone, “you pathetic drug addict.” He reached into his pocket and produced a packet of coke.

  Shaking violently, Devin stood up on his knees. “Yeah, I'll go.”

  Abu Bakr flicked it at him.

  “Thank you,” Devin said, bending down and sweeping up the packet.

  “Now go!” Abu Bakr said. “Or you die.”

  “Alright, alright.”

  ***

  Devin began climbing up the hill, which sloped about a hundred yards to a low area of tsingy cliff. Soon he was lost in the foliage. It occurred to him that he might do well to make a break for it now that he was hidden by the trees. He remembered all the cases he had won in court when he was lit with coke. He had been unstoppable, a legal prodigy. Bigger and richer criminals sought him out until he found himself representing drug-lords. That's when the real money started flowing and the temptations became unbearable. Finally he stole $12 million that his firm was holding in trust and went underground.

  When he did that, he stirred up a different kind of mad bees, but luckily they didn't know how to find him. He wasn't a successful lawyer for nothing. He was smarter than any cartel germs he'd ever come across. And they never caught up with him. Eight years he'd eluded them—and he'd been high on coke the whole time. But unfortunately he'd gambled too much and lost all the money. He was a good gambler, he thought. He just had a streak of bad luck that stretched from Las Vegas to the Indian reservations of the plains to Monte Carlo. Still, he lived fast and high for seven sweet years. Sweet-- hotels, sweet women, and cold whiskey. Oh, the joys of the flesh.