The Fifth Kingdom

by Caridad Piñeiro

  As Lopez and Diego faced them, wondering why Bill had stopped, she glanced at him. She met his gaze and instinctively knew what he wanted—to create delay to allow the cavalry to arrive.

  “Are you ready to meet your mother, mi amor?” He cradled her cheek and the pad of his thumb was slick along her moist skin.

  “I’m not sure, Bill. It’s been so long. I don’t know what I’ll say to Miranda,” she said and it wasn’t so far removed from the truth.

  “You cannot mean to turn back now after we’ve come such a distance,” Lopez said, wiping his brow with a glaringly white handkerchief that he made a point to wave more than once.

  A sign? Deanna wondered, but Bill spoke up before she could answer.

  “Do not rush her now, Dr. Lopez. It’s been fourteen years since she’s seen her mother. Surely a few more minutes won’t hurt.”

  She faced Bill exclusively, needing to read his face for confirmation of what to do. But when she did so, it was evident they had little choice and even with that, determination filled his gaze.

  “I’ll be okay,” she replied and pushed onto her toes, kissed him hard.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her close for just a second and the kiss, although brief, was filled with a fierce promise.

  They would survive this.

  Lacing her fingers with his, she turned and faced the other two men.

  “I’m ready.”

  Miranda watched the quartet hurry down the hillside. Three men and a woman. Deanna.

  Even with the distance and years separating them Miranda recognized her daughter. There was something in the walk and in the bounce of chestnut hair visible beneath the brim of the hat. It brought back memories of that hair bound with a bright pink ribbon, bobbing up and down as a five-year-old Deanna walked beside her.

  Deanna had come, she thought again, but not as Miranda had either imagined or wished.

  She had already sacrificed her daughter once in her pursuit of Montezuma’s tomb. She would do whatever it took to keep her from suffering anymore.

  Easing up on her toes, she raised her hand, wanting to warn Deanna, but Javier yanked her back forcefully. Every bone in her body rattled with the impact and awoke the countless aches and pains from the torture that had been inflicted on her in the course of the last two or so weeks. She didn’t know exactly how long it had been, since she had shut herself down at times to try and ignore the pain.

  “Any word, any action and I’ll instruct my men to kill her, Miranda,” warned Javier.

  “She doesn’t know anything,” Miranda pleaded.

  A harsh laugh escaped Javier and he chided her with a shake of his head. “Then why is she here? At your base camp?”

  He swiveled his head around at the barren hillside, his gaze suddenly doubtful. “Although I don’t see a camp. Do you?”

  Miranda didn’t know if whoever had given PM this location had intentionally brought them to the wrong place. She hoped so. Maybe that would keep them alive a little longer until help could arrive. But as the quartet neared and she caught a glimpse of the man behind Deanna, it occurred to her he just might be the cavalry. His keen-eyed gaze and the preparedness in every line of his body communicated that he was not your average Joe.

  What shocked her more was the possessive way he laid a hand on Deanna’s shoulder and her daughter reached up, passed her hand across his lovingly.

  They were involved. That only complicated things.

  “Move away from the car slowly and stand by me with a smile,” Javier commanded.

  Miranda didn’t hesitate, well aware of the reward for disobedience, but even more concerned about what they might do to Deanna and her lover if she did not comply.

  Forcing a smile to her face, she stepped away from the vehicle and to where Javier stood, waiting for her daughter.

  Deanna and her lover were now no more than about twenty feet away and heading straight for where Miranda lingered. The sun was streaming down from behind them, hiding Deanna’s face in shadow beneath the brim of her hat.

  She had to see her, Miranda thought and moved forward, ignoring Javier’s sharply worded, “Where are you going?”

  Deanna likewise walked forward faster than her companions, breaking from them until she was only an arm’s length away from her mother. She swept the hat off her head then, revealing her face.

  It was like staring at a younger version of herself, although Deanna’s hair was dark like her father’s and her eyes were a gorgeous blend of Gonzalo’s hazel and her own green.

  So beautiful, she thought, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from speaking, afraid that even a breath would shatter the moment. Or that the wrong word might break a heart.

  Her heart, she thought as Deanna finally spoke.

  “Hello, Miranda.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The sun was harsh on Miranda’s face, Deanna thought. It made her mother look washed-out, almost half-dead compared to the vital woman Deanna remembered from her youth. Only her eyes seemed alive, the green of them shimmering with pain.

  “Hello, Deanna,” Miranda replied, her voice husky with emotion. The glint of tears in her eyes silvered by the rays of the sun until they spilled over and ran unabated down dusty cheeks, leaving trails in their wake.

  “Such a touching performance,” said the man who had been standing by her mother as he approached, clapping his hands as if watching the end of a Saturday matinee.

  Bill placed his hand on her shoulder again, offering support. “And you are?” he asked after the man stood in front of them.

  “Javier Ramirez,” the man replied, not that Bill had really needed to know. Much as she had known with Diego, Deanna recognized the man’s face from the photos she and Bill had studied.

  Javier flicked a finger in their direction and his men were immediately in motion, flanking them on either side while another man took up a position behind them.

  Bill tensed, but calmly asked, “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Ramirez?”

  “Let’s not play games. We all know why you are here.”

  “I’m here to see my mother,” Deanna replied, her tone as neutral as she could make it.

  Ramirez jerked his head and one of the men beside them moved closer. He snagged their packs and tossed them to Javier’s feet. Javier bent and rummaged through the bags. Tossed away the lunch and removed their cell phones. He handed the packs to one of his men who placed them in a nearby Jeep and then Javier dropped the phones to the ground. He brought his foot down smashing them beneath the heel of his cowboy boot.

  Motioning to the guard, the man slipped the barrel of his rifle between her and Bill, separating them with a nudge to Bill’s midsection.

  “On your knees, Dr. Vasquez,” Javier instructed, his dark eyes deadly flat like a shark’s.

  “What do you want?” Deanna asked, but the man beside her poked her in the side with the rifle’s barrel.

  Bill came to her aid, but the man whipped out with the butt end, caught him across his side. Along his injured ribs, doubling him over from the pain.

  “On your knees, Dr. Vasquez. I won’t ask again,” Javier warned and Deanna dropped to the ground, wanting to keep Bill from any further injury. Praying that help would soon arrive.

  Bill sucked in a rough breath, fighting for control. Things were escalating too quickly and his support was long overdue. He forced back the pain to stand upright, not even bothering to calculate the odds of breaking free. Besides Javier, Diego and Lopez, there were five other armed PM members nearby. He could handle with ease the three men immediately around him, but the others were too far away.

  His gut clenched when the man who had struck him placed the point of his barrel a few inches from Deanna’s head.

  “There’s no need for this,” he said, one hand held out in pleading.

  “You’re right,” Javier replied, but pulled a pistol from the holster on his belt. He brought the weapon up and placed the muzzle against Miranda’
s temple as he continued. “All that your lady friends need to do is give us directions to the tomb.”

  Deanna risked a glance at him before saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  With a flick of his thumb, Javier undid the safety on the pistol. The click echoed loudly in the breezeless afternoon heat. He leaned close to Miranda and said, “Like mother, like daughter, Miranda. Such stubbornness is not a good thing for you.”

  “No, don’t,” Deanna cried out, half rising and reaching out toward her mother.

  The PM man holding the rifle on her yanked it upward, preparing to beat her with the butt. Bill stepped in, grabbing hold of the rifle defensively to avoid lethal retaliation.

  It worked. With a backward swing the man lashed out at him instead. Bill blocked the blow with his arm, but then the guard behind him struck him with the butt end across the back of the head, driving him down on all fours.

  Stars danced in his vision and his hearing faded for a moment. When it returned he heard a noisy rattle and the skitter of loose rock from the ridge up above them. As he looked upward, he saw the 4x4 crest the top of the hill.

  Help had finally arrived.

  Javier tossed Miranda down beside them and barked commands to his men. Three men surrounded them and herded them with jabs of the rifle barrels toward the furthest 4x4 while their friends opened fire on the vehicle that had come over the hilltop.

  As they moved away, Bill stumbled, his knees still weak from the blow to his head. The misstep gave him the perfect opportunity, however, as one of their captors released his hold on his weapon to grab Bill’s arm.

  Bill delivered a knockout punch to the man’s face and while the man crumpled, he grabbed his rifle and shot the second man coming to his aid. The third man whirled to see what was up and Bill dropped him with another shot before collapsing against the front fender of the 4x4.

  Deanna knelt beside him, running her hand along the back of his head. It came away wet with blood.

  “I’m okay. Stay down and get their weapons,” he instructed. He had to find out what was happening a few feet away. Sucking in a deep inhalation to drive away the dizziness in his head, he cradled the rifle to his shoulder and peered over the edge of the vehicle.

  Javier and his men had his colleague and the Mexican soldiers pinned down with bursts of automatic weapons fire. The soldiers returned the gunfire with intermittent blasts of their own, clearly hesitant although his colleague was urging them on. The outcropping behind which PM had parked provided them cover, while Bill’s people were too exposed.

  To help provide some protection for his team, Bill fired on the PM members from the rear, but his vision was blurry, making some of his shots go wide and drawing dangerous fire in their direction. Sliding back down the side of the 4x4, he checked the clip on his rifle. It was almost empty, but Deanna immediately handed him a gun that she had taken from one of the men he had killed.

  He snagged the rifle, popped up over the edge to see what was happening. Several of the men with his colleague lay on the ground around their vehicle, either dead or wounded. His colleague was trapped behind an open door, returning fire, but extremely vulnerable.

  A second later the thump-thump-thump of a helicopter sounded. Grew stronger as it came over the ridge of the hillside, silencing the gunfire for a few seconds as it distracted those on the ground.

  A gunner emerged from the side of the helicopter and opened fire on the PM people on the hillside, but the fringe group members didn’t give ground, seemingly unafraid. Clearly they meant to make it a fight to the death.

  Bill dropped back down and faced the two women. “We have to get out of here.”

  “How?” Deanna asked before Bill peeked over the edge of the fender. Took a few shots before returning to where Miranda and Deanna huddled behind the protection of the vehicle.

  “The keys are in the ignition. Can you drive a stick?” he asked.

  “I can,” she confirmed and suddenly a roar filled the air. Sent a shock wave across the landscape.

  Bill popped up again and the heat of the fire engulfing the 4x4 which had once held his fellow CIA agent and the Mexican soldiers blasted against his face. Bits and pieces of men and machine were scattered all around the flaming vehicle. Those men that were still alive were retreating, firing on the PM members, but they were now clearly on the defensive.

  PM wasn’t done with their attack. From behind the security of the rock and their vehicle, they continued shooting and readied for another big attack.

  As two of them raised an RPG launcher and loaded it, Bill fired on them, trying to distract them from the men trying to make an escape and the helicopter, which had withdrawn after the blast but was now circling back around to protect their men on the ground.

  Bill eased down and jerked his head in the direction of the car. The motion sent a wave of nausea through his body, but he fought it back and instructed, “Get in the driver’s seat. I’ll cover you. Miranda, get in the back and lay low. On three.”

  He counted down and in sync the three jumped into the 4x4.

  Deanna started the car and Miranda called out, “Turn it around and head up around the ridge.”

  Bill covered them with gunfire, bracing himself against the framework of the open canopy as Deanna hit the gas and yanked hard on the wheel. The motion nearly upended him, but he twisted and grabbed the crossbar. Continued firing as they moved up the path toward the ridge of the hillside, Deanna trying to keep the vehicle behind the protective shelter of low-lying pines and other rock formations.

  After one turn placed them in a good position, he managed to hit one of the men manning the RPG, delaying the launch.

  The pilot of the helicopter must have seen the danger also since he lifted the bird higher and began to move away from those down below.

  They crested the lip of the hillside and the view was almost breathtaking. Volcanic eruptions years earlier had created a landscape filled with undulations and a series of gulches and arroyos cut through the earth before them.

  Miranda pointed to one slender ribbon that snaked along the edge of one of the larger swaths of land. “Go left along that trail.”

  Deanna did as instructed, maneuvering the vehicle down a slight dip before heading along the path.

  “Where will that take us?” Bill questioned, his rifle trained on the ridge to protect them. Waiting for the PM members to follow, but Deanna pushed the vehicle at a breakneck pace along the path, opening up a large gap between them.

  The sound of sporadic gunfire peppered the air, indicating that the battle was still being waged on the other side of the crest. A loud explosion chased after them and a plume of smoke rose up, followed moments later by the sickly whine of a struggling engine.

  As Miranda and Bill watched, the helicopter crested the top of the hill, flames spewing from within the body. Whirling wildly as the pilot struggled to control the damaged aircraft, until with a final death spiral, the copter nose-dived to earth. The explosion that followed the crash sent reverberations throughout the hillside. Smoke from the burning wreckage created a dense layer of dark clouds that spread up and then across the ridge thanks to the air currents.

  The smoke obscured their view of the hillside’s crest, likewise providing them cover as they raced along the path. Even those few minutes might help them escape, Bill thought, as the car bounced wildly along the ruts in the trail. Somehow Deanna managed to keep control of the vehicle, keeping it to the path as Miranda directed from the backseat.

  With danger somewhat abated, Bill finally gave in to the weakness growing through his body, plopping into the seat beside Deanna. Leaning forward as dry heaves from the nausea overcame him.

  Deanna snuck a look at him and noticed the blood freely running down the back of his head and neck. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

  He sat back up, his face a pasty color and sweat running down the side of his temple. With her attention half on the road before her, she reached out
and cupped his cheek. His skin was clammy beneath her palm.

  Bill grasped her hand and said, “We need to protect Miranda’s discovery. We can’t let them get their hands on whatever is in that tomb.”

  Swiveling around in the seat, he faced Miranda. “Can you take us there?”

  “Yes. It’s not that far from here,” she indicated.

  “Then let’s go save the world,” he kidded, obviously in an effort to curb her concern.

  “Let’s go save the world,” she echoed, hoping that along the way they’d save themselves as well.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The 4x4 died less than ten minutes later. A couple of bullets had pierced the radiator and during their wild dash the fluid had drained out. Deanna had pushed it as long as possible, way past the steam that had made driving difficult until the engine finally seized with a sputter and the death rattle of pistons refusing to move.

  “How much further do we have to go?” Bill asked as he glanced back along the path. PM had finally found their trail after the smoke from the crash had cleared, but the delay had given them a decent head start. But with the vehicle dead, PM would eat into that lead quickly in their 4x4s.

  “We can go across this arroyo on foot. It’s not more than a half an hour in to the tomb,” Miranda advised, shielding her eyes from the sun to likewise track the progress of her kidnappers.

  “Can’t you see he’s in no condition to go anywhere on foot?” Deanna lashed out, stalking to where Miranda stood and meeting her eye to eye.

  It was like seeing younger and older versions of the same woman, they were so much alike. Build and faces. The way they moved as they both tilted their chins upward in a rebellious stance while they eyeballed each other.

  “I’m fine,” Bill said and approached them, but when he did, dizziness washed over him. He wavered unsteadily.