by Chris Tucker
Vigil responded with a sly smile on his face. “Why don’t you just give it to me now and maybe I’ll make your death a quick one for cooperating.”
“I remember the look in the old man’s eyes when I took this from him. I also remember the way his head exploded when I shot him at point blank range.”
Vigil suddenly became filled with rage. Lowering his weapon, he threw it to the side and looked his foe directly in the eyes. They stared each other down, waiting to see who would be the first to blink.
Esperanza reached behind his back and exposed the machete that had ended so many lives. The weapon and port log were thrown to the ground as he addressed the American.
“I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” replied Vigil. “Let’s dance, big boy.”
The two men began a slow circling of one another. Esperanza towered over the much shorter opponent, but the shear strength of each man would be the determining factor in this confrontation.
Vigil was the first to throw a punch. The blow appeared to have little effect as his hand connected with the right cheek of Esperanza. The retaliatory blow was also not as effective as intended, but Vigil could feel the power of the brutish man.
Smiling, he shrugged it off and lunged at Esperanza. The two began a grappling session that caused both of them to thrash violently against each other’s bodies. Punches were thrown at a feverish pace and with each connecting blow, they both became more fatigued.
Esperanza was able to roll on top of his foe. Once he was able to regain his balance, he delivered a blow to Vigil’s groin area, causing the American to wince from the pain. Undeterred, Vigil provided his own blow in the way of a head butt. This caused Esperanza to flinch back, providing a clean shot to the chest. Finally able to kick the giant man off of him, Vigil got up to regain his stance, but was met with a blow to his backside in the form of a vicious kick.
He landed face down and it took a few seconds to recover from the agonizing pain. When he rolled over, he saw Esperanza standing over him holding a rock big enough to crush a bear’s skull.
“So long, Mr. Vigil. You put up the good fight, but now it’s time to end this once and for all.”
Vigil reached for anything that would help defend the inevitable blow coming at any second. When his hand hit the ground behind him, he felt a foreign object that didn’t feel like part of the natural forest landscape. The metal blade of the machete Esperanza had discarded prior to the brawl was now lying next to his head. He ran his fingers down the edge of the blade until he reached the handle and grasped it firmly.
Esperanza began the downward descent of what was sure to be the crushing blow that would end the battle. The sharp pain he felt in his lower body would deter that from happening. He dropped the rock, causing it to land next to the head of his opponent. Then, he looked down at where his foot was once attached to his calf.
He let out a wailing scream that resonated throughout the forest. Falling to one knee, he tried to maintain a balance that suddenly became awkward without the use of the missing appendage.
Vigil stood up and looked down at him. He raised the machete and prepared to stick it through the chest of his nemesis, but something Esperanza said made him pause for a moment.
“Go ahead. Do it. But know this. Before I killed the old man, he had a fear in his eyes I thoroughly enjoyed seeing as I ended his life. I will give you no such satisfaction as to show you that same fear. So, go ahead and do your worst.”
Vigil tried not to think about what Mendoza’s final sight might have been before his life was taken. Anger took over and he raised the machete higher this time.
“Burn in hell, you sick bastard.”
He swung the machete as hard as he could until it made contact. The blade met with the neck and went straight through, disconnecting Esperanza’s head from his body. Throwing the machete to the ground, he walked over to where the port log was lying on the forest floor.
Carefully picking it up, he dusted it off and began to make his way back to Hunt and the other soldiers. On the way by the dismembered corpse of Esperanza, he uttered a remark.
“You weren’t much of a dancer, big boy. Not much at all.”
33
Mercer was closing in on Vallejos’ position as he chased the dictator through the jungle. It was getting harder to see through the darkness, and while he could see the fleeing man appearing and disappearing between the trees, there was no angle for a clean shot. He decided to wait until he was closer before firing any rounds.
The cartel leader was able to stay far enough ahead for only a few more minutes as the gap between them was shortened. When the distance had closed to under thirty yards, Mercer saw an opportunity to take a clean shot. He took aim with his HK 416D rifle and fired two rounds, but Vallejos was able to avoid being hit due to a tree absorbing the rounds. His own instincts took over, causing him to return retaliatory fire. Those rounds also missed their intended target, but forced Mercer to take cover for a moment.
Peering from behind a tree, he exposed himself, giving Vallejos an opportunity to end the chase. The bullet shattered the tree bark about four inches above Mercer’s head, triggering an immediate return to cover.
Mercer took a deep breath and readied himself to advance once more. Leaving his position of cover, he was able to see Vallejos retreating once again into the thick woodland. There was a slight ridge ahead that would allow for cover if he could make it, but Mercer wanted to take another shot before his target disappeared over the crest.
Without hesitation, he raised his weapon and took aim between the sights. Squeezing the trigger twice, he witnessed the back of Vallejos’ right upper leg explode as the rounds registered a direct hit. He cautiously proceeded with his advancement from there, but was once again halted as three more rounds of fire were returned.
He tried to get off another burst of rounds, but Vallejos had crawled over the ridge and disappeared from view. Knowing his foe was wounded, he advanced quickly towards the rim of the hill in an effort to regain visual contact. Upon arrival to the top, it wasn’t Vallejos he witnessed, but instead, it was the bodies of countless men and women lying in a mass grave.
The view was abysmal and he stood in shock at the spectacle before him. He snapped himself out of his momentary lapse as he realized he was still in a dogfight of his own. Doing a quick scan of the area, he was unable to spot Vallejos. He realized the dictator could not have made an escape that quickly with an injured leg. He was somewhere close by.
He walked on the outer edge of the gravesite, carefully observing every detail of his surroundings. If Vallejos was here, he wouldn’t hesitate to use the element of surprise to his advantage.
Keeping his eyes and mind focused, he continued walking by the many dead bodies, some of which were badly decayed. Halfway down the long stretch of corpses, he was brought to a stop by a voice from behind.
“Drop your weapon, Mr. Mercer. Do it now.”
He turned to see Vallejos, who was standing atop the bodies in the shallow pit.
“Hiding among the dead, Andres? That’s in bad taste…even for you.”
Vallejos reiterated his request. “I will shoot you. Drop your weapon now.”
Mercer lowered the rifle to his side and dropped it to the ground, and then said, “It would appear we are at a crossroads. This is going to end badly for one of us.”
“I am the one with the gun pointed at you. The ending will be a sad one for you and you alone.”
Mercer tried to stall the inevitable for a moment to give him a chance to think of a way out of his current predicament. “I think it’s ironic that you’re standing in the middle of one of the graves your regime is responsible for, especially seeing that this is where you’ll end up yourself very soon.”
“Your empty threats mean nothing to me. It is you who will be joining these people, and only I will know where your final resting place will be.”
“Well, just r
emember to come and visit once in a while,” Mercer quipped.
Vallejos was not amused by the comment. “You have proven to be a worthy adversary. But now I must leave you, as I am sure you know I have other matters to attend to.”
Mercer stood frozen, waiting for the round to hit him. There was a brief second where he thought he could charge the dictator and catch him off guard, but before he could react, he heard the click of the pistol.
There was no noise, only silence. For a moment, he thought he had been hit, causing the world around him to go still. The look on Vallejos’ face disproved that theory as he was just now realizing his pistol was out of ammunition. Panic set in and he went to reach for his knife.
Mercer saw his window of opportunity and reached for the holster attached to his waist. The entire sequence took less than three seconds. Vallejos was still fumbling for his knife when a single shot rang out, striking him in the forehead.
The last thing Vallejos would ever see before everything went black was the man who had caused him so much havoc over recent days. The ruthless cartel leader fell to the ground face down and his limp body came to rest in the same pit of despair he had sentenced so many others to.
***
Vigil and Hunt were engaged in light conversation as Mercer came walking back up to the spot where they had separated earlier. They both stood up to greet him while keeping a watchful eye on the captive soldiers who remained huddled around one another.
“It’s good to see you in one piece,” said Hunt. “What about Vallejos?”
“He’s done. We don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
Hunt nodded in understanding and patted his Special Operations Director on the shoulder, who in turn looked to Vigil.
“And Esperanza? Where’s he at?”
Vigil looked off into the trees and pointed with a raise of his head.
“He’s back there. I don’t expect he’ll be walking out any time soon.”
Mercer let out a sigh of relief. The tension that had mounted over the past few days seemed to be lifted off his shoulders and he was able to breathe again. He looked over at the corralled soldiers, who all had the fear of death in their eyes.
Hunt asked, “What do you think we should do with them?”
Mercer looked at the beaten men. They looked like kids who never got a chance at a better life. They were wounded, scared, and could most likely be blown over by a stiff wind at this point.
“Let them go,” he said. “They’ve been through enough and we can use them to deliver a message for us.”
He received no argument from his superior. They understood the delicacy of the moment and were in complete agreement with allowing them to leave unharmed. Mercer walked over and knelt down beside the soldiers.
“Do any of you speak English?”
They all raised their hands without saying a word, unsure of what the American had planned for them.
“We’re going to let you leave. There are trucks back at the road you can take to go back to your compound. You won’t be harmed, but I need you to deliver a very detailed message when you return.”
Some of the stress left their bodies as they realized they were in no further danger for the time being. The sandy haired man continued talking.
“Go back and tell your friends that your boss is dead. Vallejos and Esperanza no longer control this area and if we need to, we’ll come back and finish off every last one of you. So, do the right thing and go back to your homes. Do you think you can handle what I just said?”
Still digesting what they were just told about their leaders being dead, they nodded simultaneously. Then, Mercer untied them and allowed their departure, which they made hastily.
“That was very ambassador-like of you,” Vigil commented. “Maybe you could run for office down here.”
Hunt interrupted, “Pat, if I had a choice, I’d leave you down here instead.”
Vigil quipped back, “Nah, no hockey and not enough golfing. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
Watching the soldiers walk off in the dark and under the aid of one another, Mercer turned back to the hole that the soldiers had already started digging.
“Well, there’s twenty thousand pounds of gold somewhere under there,” he said. “Now, all we have to do is figure out how to get it up to the surface.”
34
The morning sun’s rays were streaking through the leaves, creating various bright spots on the forest floor. Mercer woke to find Hunt placing explosive charges around the perimeter of the hole. The tree he slept against provided little comfort throughout the night and his body was now feeling the effects. To no surprise, Vigil was still sound asleep and snoring as usual.
“I don’t know how you can sleep through that racket,” said Hunt. “I’ve heard bad mufflers that are quieter than he is.”
“I’ve had many years to get used to it. I don’t even hear it anymore.”
Hunt looked over at Vigil and joked, “If I had a pillow, I would suffocate him.”
Mercer let out a laugh. He realized this was the first time in over a week that he didn’t feel like he had to look over his shoulder constantly, which was a very welcome feeling. He stood up to stretch his limbs and let the sun hit his face.
Hunt was putting the finishing touches on the explosive devices. “We should be ready to go in just a bit, Sean. Everything is set, but if this doesn’t work, we’ll have to wait a few days to get a team down here.”
“Let’s just hope it works then,” remarked Mercer.
Still stretching his arms, he noticed some movement off in the distance through the trees. He instantly retrieved his rifle.
“Colonel, we have company.”
He ran over and kicked his partner in the leg to wake him, all while keeping his eyes focused on the advancing threat. Vigil opened his eyes to see everyone in a scramble.
“If you’re done with your beauty sleep, I could use you right about now,” said Mercer.
Vigil knew something was about to take place that would require his full attention. He immediately went into operative mode.
He asked his partner, “What ya got?”
“Not sure. Looks like a bunch of Vallejos’ men coming our way. This could get ugly if they’re out for revenge.”
“Sean,” Hunt called from behind. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
There was no time for a response or a course of action. Within seconds, the soldiers were within just a few yards of them and there was no chance for retreat.
One of the soldiers advanced towards Mercer, who was caught off guard by the approach since the young man didn’t appear to be holding a weapon.
“You are Sean Mercer?”
Dumbfounded by the event taking place, Mercer tried to rationalize the situation, but couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Yes, I am. What’s this about?”
“Mr. Mercer, my name is Jesus Paneria. You and I have a mutual friend. His name is Julian Navarro.”
Mercer looked curiously at the man who was addressing him. The soldier continued.
“Vallejos dragged Julian’s body through the compound to show what happens to traitors of the regime. I could do nothing at the time, as I am sure you can understand. I was sick within myself at the sight of it. When I heard about what you did to those bastards, I rounded up as many men as I could to come and help you.”
Mercer stood speechless while taking in the unexpected twist of events. Unable to utter a word, and admiring the unselfishness of the young man before him, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Jesus. Then, the words finally came to him.
“I’m truly sorry for the loss of your friend. Julian was a good young man who left us way too soon. Can all of these men be trusted? I’m sure you understand why I have to ask.”
“These men are not loyal to Vallejos. They did what they had to in order to stay alive. With him gone, we are no longer under the threat of a regime we do not believe in. Whatever you need
, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Hunt came up behind Mercer and greeted the soldier. “Jesus, my name is Alan Hunt. We are grateful you’re here and are forever in your debt.”
Pleasantries were exchanged between the men and, shortly thereafter, they gathered for a briefing about what would take place during the excavation of the gold. In just under an hour, all preparations were made. They were ready to set off the charges that would dismantle the upper layers of rock and hardened lava which had blanketed the ground for well over a century. Everyone stood by in anticipation of the explosion.
Before blowing the C4 charges, Mercer waved Jesus over and handed him the trigger mechanism. A befuddled look came over the young man’s face, as he was unsure of exactly what to do with it.
“Just flip that lever and press the button,” Mercer told him in a calming voice. “Trust me. There is no feeling like the one you get from blowing stuff up. You should get to have some of the fun too.”
Jesus did as he was instructed and detonated the explosives, sending echoes through the forest. Appreciative that one of their own was able to set off the charge, the soldiers began clapping and cheering at the sight of rock and dirt being flung through the air. Jesus, who was still holding the detonator, was wide-eyed with excitement at what he had just witnessed.
When the dust settled and the applause had subsided, Mercer, Hunt and Vigil walked to the edge of the newly formed crater and looked into the earth. The smiles on their faces could be seen by the soldiers who had remained back for the moment. It was Jesus who finally stepped forward to see what the happy faces were all grinning about.
“Did it work, Mr. Mercer?”
Mercer put his arm around Jesus and gave him a friendly squeeze.
“Oh, it worked, my friend. It worked indeed.”
***
The crumbled rock and dirt took very little time to remove with the help of Jesus and the other soldiers. In just under an hour, they reached an object that was neither rock nor volcanic ash. At first glance, the soldier who had hit it with his shovel was unsure of exactly what it was. He called Mercer over to examine it.
