by David Sloma
CHAPTER 33
The leader of the attackers wandered through the hallways of the mansion. He'd already looked over the living quarters but had found no clues as to the disappearance of the others. He looked around the house for any information of interest.
He found a locked office that wouldn't open. He suspected that Lang and the others had taken a secret escape route. He was sure it existed, otherwise he didn't know how they had pulled their disappearing act. He was pretty sure they didn't have a teleportation machine, but he wouldn't put it past them, the magicians that they were.
Frustrated, he made his way back to the garage to get some explosives. By the time he got there, the fire alarms were going off.
“Someone must have triggered it!” he yelled as he ran back into the garage. “See if you can shut it off!”
He bent down to Chang, “How do you shut that thing off?”
Chang looked at him with swimming eyes and threw up.
“I think we'd better get out of here,” the leader said. “Let's go!”
“Why? We haven't gotten anything good out of them, yet. Did you find anything up there?” one of his men asked.
“No, but I've a feeling that fire alarm is alerting the local fire station now.” He bent down and grabbed Chang's hair. “Isn't that right? The firemen are coming for the alarm, aren't they?”
“Yes,” Chang sputtered out.
“You see! Load them up! We're leaving. Double-time!” The leader took one of Chang's arms. “Help me.”
The man nearby took Chang's other arm and together they carried him to one of the SUVs. The others got Chang's men on their feet and loaded them up, too.
“Hurry! Hurry!” the leader yelled. He got the door of the garage open and stood looking outside, gun in his hand. He stuck his head out of the garage but could hear no sirens, yet.
They started down the long driveway out of the property, but before they could reach the road they were met by a fire truck, a police car, and an ambulance coming up the driveway.
The two police officers got out of their car, most interested with the three black SUVs with all-tinted windows trying to leave. They didn't have time to ask any questions, as a couple of the intruders stuck machine guns out the windows and opened fire.
One of the cops was hit and went down, while the other cop managed to get off a couple of shots before he was also cut down. The firemen and paramedics wisely stayed in their vehicles, as the three black SUVs moved past, climbing onto the grass on the side of the driveway.
The SUVs tore off down the road as fast as they were able, as they knew the fire truck and ambulance would be calling in what just happened.
“This is just great! Now, we're going to have every cop within a hundred miles closing in on this place, looking for us!” the leader said, in the first SUV.
“What else do you think we should have done?” the man who was driving said.
“Nothing. They would have called us in anyway. It would have been about the same result. Though, with two dead cops, it's going to be much worse for us. We'd better split up.” He turned around and spoke to another one of his men, “Put out the word to split up. Plan 3.”
“Yes, sir,” the man nodded. He spoke into a walkie-talkie, telling the others to use the plan they had made up in advance for just this situation—where they had to split up and make for three separate locations.
As soon as the small road opened up to a larger road, the lead SUV went off in one direction, while the two others turned the opposite way. The second SUV would go in another direction still, when another road fork in the road came by.
***
In the bus, Lang stood by the computer operator, amazed that their tactic had worked. They watched as the SUVs left the mansion, but unfortunately, with Chang and his men. “I don't know if this is better or worse. Now the cops are going to search the mansion. It'll be part of their crime scene. Sheesh!” Lang went to the back and sat down heavily.
“You tried. It was all you could do,” the prof said.
“Yes, but it seems to not have helped matters. Quite the opposite.”
“You didn't know what was going to happen. You had to try something. I think I would have done the same myself.”
“Yes, me, too,” Charles said.
“Thank you,” Lang said. “This is a very tough situation. No telling what's the best course of action, sometimes. Just need to take action without having all the facts. But, that's what it's like in a battle.”
They drove for a couple of more hours, as dawn broke. The driver had changed with Lang for a while, and then the computer operator, before going back behind the wheel after a nap. By the time they arrived at the foot of the mountain, they were grumpy and tired. And they still had the better part of an hour to go.
The mountain was the highest in the region and made their ears pop as they ascended. There were various roads going off the mountain into different national parks and many towns at different elevations. It was a good place to get lost in, and that's what Lang hoped to do, at least for the night.
He had abandoned the plan to go to a location owned by another Guild member in the mountains, as the police would surely track them there before long.
“We're not going to our original destination, are we?” the computer operator asked.
“No.” Lang shook his head. “The deaths of those cops changes everything. We don't dare stop at our safe house, now. I'm even a little leery of getting this close, but going over the mountain will give us a very big lead and put us into another state. That should slow up the pursuit against us some.”
The driver kept the bus moving through the mountains. Lang sat near the professor, drinking some juice out of a box.
“What are you thinking?” the prof asked softly, as Wendy was asleep in the next seat. Charles stirred and opened his eyes.
“We'll have to keep moving for a while, until we can get out of the country,” Lang said.
“How? Won't they be watching the airports and borders close to here?” the prof asked.
“They might. But our Guild is wide, and we have people placed at such locations. We'll be able to get out.”
“And go where?”
Lang lowered his voice to a whisper and bent closer to them, “We have property in Columbia, outside Bogotá. We'll head for there. We have a house in the jungle, not far from a decent-sized town. We have most everything you'll need to continue your work there. I was thinking of moving you two down there before all this happened, so I've been getting it set up.”
“Sounds good,” the prof said.
“You think of everything, don't you?” Charles said.
“A lot of things. I wish I had foreseen this latest turn of events,” Lang said. “Would have made our lives a lot easier and might not have cost a couple of people their lives.”
“Maybe more if we don't help Chang and the rest,” one of the guards said.
“Yes, that's constantly on my mind,” Lang said, and stared out the window.
CHAPTER 34
The bus stopped behind a closed ski lodge for a break, to add more fuel to the tank from the spare gas cans they carried. It was deserted, being the off-season, so no one bothered them. They had a big enough lead that the police weren't even close to searching on the mountain, yet.
Then, the driver started down the other side of the mountain. There was an airport a couple of hours away, and he made for it. The others slept if they could.
Lang made a phone call to someone he knew with a plane chartering business at the airport. “Got anything that can take us someplace?” Lang asked.
“Depends where,” a man said on the other line.
“I'll tell you when I see you. I don't know how safe this phone line is anymore,” Lang said, still wanting to be cautious.
“Roger that. She'll be fueled and waiting.”
“Thank you.” Lang was relieved that he could always count on a member of the Guild in times of need. It was one o
f the things that made their group so strong.
A couple of hours later, the bus pulled into the airplane hanger and parked near the Lear jet.
Charles whistled. “Nice ride!”
“It is. But this is no pleasure trip,” Lang said. The bus parked, and he got off to shake hands with an older man in a blue business suit. The man led Lang aboard and spoke with him for a few minutes. When they came out, everyone had gotten off the bus.
“The keys are in it,” the driver said to the man in the suit.
“Ah, good, good! My pilot's aboard. Waiting for you. But, you'd better leave the guns. There's only so much I can do, you know?” the man in the suit said.
Lang nodded. “You heard him; put the guns on the bus.”
“But, sir!” one of the guards said.
“It's alright. We have plenty more at the house where we're going. I don't want to take a chance.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard went around collecting everyone's guns and put them on the bus.
“Thank you, again,” Lang shook the hand of the man who owned the plane.
“Don't mention it.” The man smiled a tight smile. He didn't know what sort of trouble Lang was in, and he didn't want to know. It was safer for everyone that way.
He got on the bus and drove it away. He'd sell it off to a chop-shop, and they'd have in it parts before the day was over.
Lang and the others settled down in the comfortable seats in the jet and put their seat belts on. A stewardess came around to offer them drinks. Considering the circumstances, most of them had more than one.
None of them had any passports with them, but that didn't matter, as the owner of the jet was able to pull some strings with the airports so that his passengers would be able to get off the plane and out of the airport, no questions asked. The Guild had contacts most anywhere in the world, just for emergencies like this.
A few hours later, Charles and the others were bumping down a quiet dirt road in the countryside of Columbia in an airport limo, rolling up to the estate the Guild had there. Lang paid the driver, and the limo drove off into the night, red tail lights fading—the only lights on the road.
Proximity lights flicked on as Lang walked up to the house and opened the door with the key. Charles, the prof, and Wendy were struck with how warm and humid it was there, a big difference from the climate they had just left.
“We should have packed beach clothes,” the professor joked.
“Or, just go naked,” Charlessaid.
Lang stopped inside the front door and checked the security system. It was fine, no signs of intrusion. They went inside.
He locked up the door then went to the gun safe, passing out guns to everyone there.
“I don't want one,” said Wendy.
“I think you should have one, honey. Even one of the small ones. It can fit in your purse, look,” the professor demonstrated a tiny .22 pistol for her.
“I don't like guns.”
“I'm not a big fan of them, either. But sometimes they can save your life. Just take it, even if you don't use it. For me, alright?”
“Alright,” Wendy said, and shoved the small gun with its holster into her purse.
Then, Lang broke out the whiskey. They sat around a table drinking until they were calm and tired enough to go to sleep. The house was large, with a bedroom for everyone.
The next morning, they took the jeep that was stored in the garage to the small town nearby for supplies. One of the guards went with them and one stayed at the house at all times. Charles, Lang, and one of the guards went shopping, while the prof stayed with his wife and the other guard at the house.
“This is amazing!” Charles said, as the open-air jeep burned down the small road through the jungle. He'd never smelled such smells or breathed such air before. He was still not over being down there in the tropical climate and relished the weather. His long sleeve shirt and pants were rolled up.
Lang looked over from the driver's seat at Charlesin the passenger's seat. “We'll have to get you some suitable clothes.” Lang had changed into some shorts and a t-shirt he had at the house, but there was nothing to fit Charles or most of the others.
“That would be good.” Charles grinned.
“You've never been in a rain forest before?”
“No, never,” said.
“It's something else,” Lang said loudly, over the engine noise. “Too bad they think they should cut them down for a quick profit. So many people have no morals these days or responsibility to the future.”
“Now I can see that firsthand.”
They passed by several lots that were cleared for crops, or were in the process of being cleared, thick smoke rising up into the sky from the burning foliage. Charles kept looking into the most dense leaves and deepest colours of green he'd ever seen. He knew most of the pharmaceuticals came from plants in rain forests such as this.
He'd also heard the stories of shamen leading people through vision quests using all manner of natural psychedelics in these places. He had thought often about his own mystical experiences on LSD and wanted to have more of them. Perhaps this is the place, he thought, if we get a moment's peace.
He held on tight as Lang drove to the small town. It was evident that Lang knew where he was going, as he consulted no map, had no GPS, nor did he get directions from the guard, who sat in the back of the jeep, a handgun hidden under his jacket (his machine gun was hidden away in a compartment).
They met few vehicles on the road, mostly old VW buses that were now converted to taxis, with plastic signs on top, and the odd tourist in a small rented car. Not many of the natives seemed to have cars, probably due to the very low incomes that most had by western standards.
The market was open air and bustling. There were so many kinds of fruits Charles had not seen before that he was gobsmacked. Lang pulled to a stop near a stall stacked with fruits, and the guard stayed in the jeep, leaving Lang and Charles to walk around.
“What are those?” Charles pointed at a fruit he didn't know, a big, round, white one with spikes, as large as a decent-sized watermelon.
“That's a durian.” Lang smiled. “You've never had it?”
Charles shook his head. “No, never.”
“You're in for a treat, if you can stand the smell!”
He led Charles around the market and they filled up several shopping bags with all manner of food, and some more appropriate clothes for the others. Several of the vendors seemed to know Lang and greeted him with friendly smiles.
In the jeep on the way back, Charles was curious how they knew Lang. “You've been here before? I thought you knew the way to drive. And some of those people said hello to you, back there,” Charles said.
“Yes. I've spent some time down here, when we were first getting this place together, then on several vacations since. That's both a good and a bad thing, as I know my way around, yes, but not great for security, but there you go,” Lang said. “But the isolation down here helps.”
Back at the house the six of them sat around the table. The screen doors were open, letting in the warm breeze and the sounds of the tropical evening. Now each person was dressed in clothes more fitting for a tropical climate, basically shorts and t-shirts all around, except for Wendy who got a couple of skirts and dresses.
The professor got the conversation started that was on all their minds. He looked at Lang, “So, how long do you figure we can remain here before they track us down, whoever it is that's after us?”
Lang took a thoughtful sip of the coffee in his cup. “That's a tough question, but I think there is going to be more than one force looking for us, now. For one, we've got the assailants who we fled from at the mansion. The police are going to be involved, as some of their officers were shot, likely killed on our property. Also, we skipped the country without passports. Could be any time now. So, I'd say we are in a heap of it!” He laughed.
“I don't think it's funny,” Wendy said.
“I'm not takin
g it that way. I know we're in deep trouble.” Lang looked at her. “But if I let myself give in to despair, then I'm not going to be able to find a way out of this.”
“Do you think there is a way out?” Charles asked. The guards looked on, seeing what their boss would come up with next.
“I do. We did nothing morally wrong, in my opinion. We only were defending ourselves and running for our lives. We killed no one. I think when it all comes out we will be cleared...well, the passport thing might be an issue. But, what would you have done?” Lang looked around the table.
“I think you did fine. You got us to safety. I don't know if anyone else here could have done that,” the prof said.
“Thank you,” Lang said softly.
“But we really are in a big heap of trouble,” the prof said.
“Oh, yes. There's no denying that,” Lang said. He got up and rummaged around in the shopping bags. He held up the durian fruit and smiled.
“What's that?” Wendy asked.
“Durian!” Lang laughed and started to break it open with his fingers, as it was ripe and soft. “I recommend not breathing the first time, just scoop a piece out and down the hatch! You'll thank me later.”
He cracked open the large fruit and at once a smell assailed their noses like sulphur or very rotten eggs. It was so strong that they could taste it, and some of their eyes started to water.
“Gawd, you eat that thing?” Charles coughed, moving away from the table.
“It's really good.” Lang pulled out a piece of the creamy, yellow inside and plopped it into his mouth. “Mmm,” was all he could say for several moments after he ate it. “So good!” He went in for another.
By this time the guards were up and getting a piece each. They didn't seem to have an issue with it. “It's an acquired taste,” one of the guards said.
“Must be!” the prof said, covering his face with a napkin. He gave a napkin to Wendy, who covered her face, too. Charles had his shirt over his mouth and nose.
