The Bonita Protocol

by P J Skinner

  ‘How do I get hold of her to ask if I can come?’

  ‘There’s a radio in the office. If you ask Marina, I’m sure she’ll let you talk to Sam.’

  ‘I’ll go in first thing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Oh, by the way, I’m going out with Amanda tonight.’

  ‘Do you have to?’

  ‘We need to keep her sweet while Sam gets proof of the scam,’ said Gloria.

  ‘Has she dropped any hints to you about our trip to the laboratory?’

  No, I’m pretty sure she has no idea, so we are safe for now.’

  The next morning, Alfredo woke early and, in his impatience to speak to Sam, drove to the office early. Stalin greeted him with a wave, pointing at the face of his watch and shaking his head. He leaned against the car eating a croissant still warm from the local bakery’s ovens and waited outside for Marina to appear.

  Marina turned up at five to eight. She had her hand in her bag rooting around for the office keys as she approached the entrance.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Alfredo, making her jump.

  ‘Oh, didn’t see you there. You’re Gloria’s husband, Alfredo, aren’t you?’ she said. I’ve heard a lot about you.

  ‘I’m sure you have, and most of it is true.’

  She blushed and avoided his eyes.

  ‘How can I help? I’m afraid Amanda and Rhett won’t be in for hours,’ she said.

  ‘I need to speak to Sam. I thought you might let me use the radio.’

  ‘Sam? But hasn’t she gone home?’

  ‘I don’t understand you. She’s not with us or I wouldn’t be trying to contact her.’

  ‘No, I meant home to England. Mr Rhett told me…’

  Alfredo’s eye bulged and he stiffened, grabbing her arm.

  ‘Can you let me talk to camp please?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think--’

  Marina pulled away and tried to enter the building. Stalin stood up with his hand on his gun.

  ‘Please, Marina, you must listen. Sam never came home. We weren’t expecting her for another two weeks. All her things are still in our house.’

  ‘I think Rhett said something about family emergency.’

  ‘Sam would never have left without telling us. There’s something wrong here. Please help me.’

  Marina looked all around as if for an excuse to get away.

  ‘Amanda will kill me,’ she said.

  ‘What if Sam is in danger? Do you want to be responsible if something happens to her?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Please.’

  Marina led the way into her office. There was a recent fax lying on the floor where it had fallen out of the machine. She picked it up and read it.

  ‘Amanda’s going to be thrilled,’ she said. ‘The investor has faxed her to say he’s sending an agreement by courier.’

  ‘How long will that take to arrive?’

  ‘A couple of days or so. It depends.’

  He had to get Sam back to Calderon before they signed that contract or it would all be in vain. How would he tell her that without Marina guessing? He would have to think of something quickly.

  Marina pulled up a chair at the desk which held the radio and switched it on. Alfredo stood behind her, his feeling of foreboding increasing with every passing minute.

  Marina picked up the handset.

  ‘Hello, Cerro Calvo, are you receiving me? Over.’

  She tried again.

  ‘Cerro Calvo, good morning. Over.’

  The air rattled with static but no one answered.

  ‘Let’s wait a bit,’ said Marina. ‘Sometimes they get delayed. Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  Alfredo stood up again and wandered around the office. The maps of the adits and cross-sections had all been packed into a plastic box which sat on one of the desks. The legend read drawn by Galo Martin.

  ‘Is Galo Martin still at Cerro Calvo?’

  ‘Yes, I believe so. I think he’s on his break in Arboleda with his wife. Did you meet him?’

  ‘Briefly. When I dropped Gloria here one day. I--’

  The radio crackled into life.

  ‘Hello, Calderon, are you--’

  Buzz, crackle, buzz.

  ‘That sounds like Selma. Good morning, Cerro Calvo. It’s Marina. Can we speak to Sam please? Over.’

  A long silence ensued.

  ‘Cerro Calvo. Can we speak to Sam please? Over’

  Buzz, crackle, fizz.

  ‘in mine. Over.’ Selma’s voice shouting.

  ‘Did not copy. Over.’

  ‘…..trapped…’

  ‘Repeat please. Over.’

  Marina wiped her hair from her face, frowning with concentration.

  ‘Sam trapped…Help me. Over.’

  This was followed by a yelp and then silence.

  ‘Please repeat. Over.’

  Another long silence.

  ‘Cerro Calvo. Please, repeat. We lost you. Over.’

  ‘Calderon, Sam gone home. Repeat, Sam gone home.’

  Javier’s voice.

  ‘Repeat please. Over.’

  ‘Sam gone home. Over and out.’

  ‘Copy. Sam gone home. Over and out.’

  Marina slowly replaced the handset on the desk. She turned to face Alfredo, her face the colour of ash and beads of sweat on her lip.

  ‘Oh my God. Something terrible is going on,’ she said, throwing her hands to her face.

  Alfredo, who had been shocked into silence, forced himself to speak.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’ll go there tomorrow and find out. I need someone who knows the tunnels. Where can I find Galo Martin?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but he lives in Arboleda and it’s not a large town. Being an educated man, most people will know where to find him.’

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Amanda or Rhett that I’m going.’

  ‘Do I look mad? They’re obsessed by the money they will earn for selling the company next week. If I told them you were going to look for Sam because of me, I might disappear too.’

  ‘She’s not dead yet. Thanks Marina, I won’t forget this.’

  Alfredo ran down the stairs and jumped into his car, his breaths caught in the vice gripping his chest. Distressed, he didn’t notice Amanda getting out of her vehicle and gesticulating at him. He stamped his foot on the accelerator and swerved erratically out of his parking space and down the hill. Amanda’s face darkened and she ran inside, stabbing the button for the lift over and over.

  By the time she got to the office, she had worked herself into a lather. Marina, shocked by her unusually early arrival, opened the door for her with trepidation.

  ‘What the fuck was that man doing in the office?’ she said to Marina, spittle flying in her fury.

  ‘Which man?’ stammered Marina.

  ‘Alfredo Vargas. Why was he here? What did you tell him?’

  Marina composed her features and tried to act with nonchalance.

  ‘Oh, him. He stank of drink and his speech was slurred. I think he was looking for Gloria. I told him to go home and sleep it off.’

  Amanda’s shoulders relaxed. She laughed.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? You should have seen him driving. I doubt he’ll make it home. He’s an irredeemable lush, despite all the talk of reform. He’s worse than Rhett,’ she said, heading for her office. She stopped halfway, spinning around in her leopard print heels. ‘Have you checked the fax machine yet?’

  ‘No, I only arrived a couple of minutes ago and I had to get rid of Mr Vargas.’

  ‘And why do you think I rushed in so early this morning? Go and check now.’

  Amanda rapped her nails on the partition. Marina went into her cubicle and took the curled-up fax from her desk.

  ‘There’s one here,’ she shouted. ‘Shall I photocopy it for you?’

  Normally, Amanda hated the way faxes tended to re-curl and faded so quickly. Marina wanted a chance
to reread it.

  ‘No, give it to me. And get me some coffee. Now!’

  Marina offered it to Amanda who whipped it out of her hand and swept down the corridor into her office, leaving her quaking with fear.

  By the time Rhett entered her office later that morning, Amanda had snorted the best part of a gram of coke in celebration. She had draped herself over the plastic settee in a ridiculous pose, one leg dangling with the shoe hanging off. Her mouth was stuck in a rictus smile and although she mouthed words, nothing came out. Rhett sighed and swung her legs to the floor.

  ‘Jesus, are you high already? It’s ten o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Why are you so mean?’ said Amanda, pouting, or trying to. ‘We’re rich and all you can do is shout at me.’

  She picked up the fax from the table in front of her, tapping it carefully so that the white powder fell on the glass, and waved it in the air.

  ‘Don’t you want to read it?’ she said.

  Rhett snatched the paper from her hand. His patience with her behaviour had long run out. Why had he let her manipulate him like this? To think he’d sealed that poor woman into her tomb for this. He skimmed the contents of the fax and then read them again, his shoulders relaxing.

  ‘You see?’ said Amanda. ‘Everything is going to work out fine. They have sent us the contract by courier. We have to sign it and send it back and they will transfer the ten million to our bank account.’

  ‘Your bank account,’ said Rhett. ‘How do I know you’ll pay me my cut?’

  ‘Sweetie, how can you ask me that? After all we’ve been through. You’ll get what you deserve. I promise.’

  ‘I want you to write me a cheque for five million dollars.’

  ‘Now? You can’t be serious. I’m as high as a kite. I can’t write.’

  ‘I’m going to sit with you until you sober up, and then you can sign it.’

  ‘There? Why don’t you sit here? It’ll be much more fun. Come on Rhett. Be nice.’

  Rhett threw his eyes to heaven but he moved onto the sofa with her. She threw her legs onto his lap.

  ‘There now. That’s better isn’t it? Be a doll and give me a foot rub.’

  ***

  The roof water turned out to be a lot dirtier than advertised by Javier. Sam spent the next several hours using an alcove as a toilet. The misery of her situation, combined with the horrible stomach cramps she suffered, knocked the stuffing out of her. Staying positive took too much energy so she cried and swore for several hours until the worst of the attack of diarrhoea had finished.

  She swallowed an anti-spasmodic pill with more of the foul water and sat hugging her knees to her chest. The only consolation came in her total lack of appetite, but she sucked some mints to try and calm her stomach. Eventually she curled up and fell asleep. She dreamt that she was trapped underground, a nightmare that had lost its sting.

  ***

  Gloria’s bottom lip quivered in protest. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Alfredo pulled her close and held her as she wept.

  ‘But how could they do this to Sam? She could die in there.’ she said.

  ‘Money. I guess. We were going to stop them swindling investors out of ten million dollars.’

  ‘We should go to Arboleda tomorrow.’

  Alfredo held Gloria by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry but I can’t let you come. I need you to look after David and keep an eye on Rhett and Amanda.’

  Gloria shook his hands off and put her hands on her hips.

  ‘What? You can’t leave me here. I won’t stay.’

  ‘You must. One of us has to watch them and Amanda trusts you. Please.’

  ‘You can’t go alone. I won’t let you.’

  ‘I won’t be alone. I’ll find Galo Martin and he can guide me through the tunnels. We’ll get our girl back. I owe her, remember.’

  Gloria sniffed and took a cigarette out of her packet, a sure sign that she had capitulated. Alfredo smiled.

  ‘But how can I help? I owe her too.’

  ‘There’s something you can do right now. Can you ring your father please? I’ll need a ticket on tomorrow morning’s flight.’

  Chapter XXII

  Sam looked at her watch. It was nine thirty-two, but whether night or day, she couldn’t tell. She had lost track of time, unsure how long she had been trapped. Her supplies had almost run out. She had half a bar of chocolate and an overripe banana left. Chocolate was a laxative, which wasn’t a good idea in her state, so she ate the banana instead.

  She wound the torch with vigour and started down the adit, searching with care in every nook and cranny for a way out. She examined the raise again but the drop was about four metres and she worried that a broken ankle might kill her quicker than starvation.

  There must be a way out. The Incas had created a rabbit warren of tunnels in the hill side and the modern artisanal miners had used them as a template for their own workings which often followed the same veins. If only she could find a way into the Inca tunnels, she might be saved.

  Just when there seemed to be no hope of an exit, she spotted a small opening near the roof of the tunnel at the far end. She tried to shine her torch into it but could not see further than a few metres along it. The aperture measured less than a metre in diameter. If she entered it, she would be unable to turn back and might get stuck. But if she stayed here, she would die anyway. There was no choice but to try it.

  The first hurdle almost defeated her; how to reach the hole in the first place. It was about two metres above floor level. She tried to jump up and grab the lip to pull herself up but succeeding only in cutting her palm on the sharp chips of rock and falling onto her back in the freezing water on the floor of the tunnel.

  There were no hand or footholds and no large rocks to pile up against the wall. Flummoxed, she almost gave up, but then she remembered. The lower half of the ladder was still attached to the raise. If she could dislodge it and pull it out, there was a chance she could use it to get up to the hole in the roof. She looped her torch around her wrist and headed for the raise.

  She shone the torch down the hole. The ladder hung precariously from a bracket about half a metre down the raise. If she loosened the bracket, it might fall to the bottom from where she could not retrieve it. If only I had a rope. She looked up and down the tunnel for a piece of rope or material to tear into strips, rewinding the torch with tired hands as she kept it at full beam, but she couldn’t find anything usable.

  In desperation she reviewed the contents of her rucksack and found the thirty-metre cloth covered tape in the bottom. She laughed out loud. The solution had been in her bag all the time. She took out the tape and started to spool out lengths of tape which she then doubled and quadrupled for good measure. Knotting at both ends, she returned to the raise.

  She lay on her stomach in the dirt and reached out with both arms to loop the tape around the top rung of the ladder, pulling it through and tying it in a knot. It took several tries because her fingers were so cold. She wrapped the ends of the tape around her waist and secured it with a double knot. Then she inserted her hammer under the bracket and tried to lever it off the wall of the raise.

  It was difficult to get any traction but finally the bracket started to loosen. Bit by bit the nails emerged from the rock and finally the ladder dropped off the wall, jerking the tape around Sam’s waist but staying anchored there. She pulled the tape up end over end and grabbed the top of the ladder. Then she staggered to her feet, pulling it out of the raise until it lay on the floor of the tunnel.

  Exhausted by the effort and weak from lack of food, she sat for a minute recovering her strength and winding in the tape. Then she slipped the hammer into her belt and carried the ladder and the tape to the far end of the tunnel where she put them back into her rucksack. The torch needed winding again before she hung it from her wrist.

  Once the torch was at full power, she placed the ladder against the wall under the ope
ning and jammed it into the ground. She mounted it with her rucksack in her hand which she pushed into the opening ahead of her. The light from the torch illuminated a small winding tunnel but there was no sign of an ending.

  She had to choose. Die here or maybe die stuck in the tunnel. She had to try. Her claustrophobia made her stomach rise up into her rib cage but produced only a dry retch. It’s now or never. She pulled herself up into the tunnel, wiggling though the narrow entrance with relative ease. Inching forward, she pushed her rucksack in front of her. There was no way back.

  ***

  Alfredo arrived at Arboleda mid-morning, shaken by the drive along the road of death. His driver had taken at face value his passenger’s offer of double payment for a fast ride and they had only avoided death by narrow margins on the deadly corners. Alfredo paid him and watched in disbelief as the taxi shot off to retake the same journey at what looked like the same perilous speed.

  As predicted by Marina, the first person he asked directed him straight to Galo Martin’s house, even accompanying him there so make sure he didn’t get lost.

  ‘The engineer is revered around here,’ she said. ‘Not many people from Arboleda get a degree.’

  Alfredo knocked on the door with trepidation. Would the man think he was mad? Galo Martin opened it himself.

  ‘Hello, can I help you? Wait a minute, haven’t I seen you before. Outside the Bonita Mining office?’

  ‘It’s possible. I’m a friend of Sam Harris.’

  ‘Come in and have a coffee.’

  ‘We don’t have time for that. Sam is--’

  ‘There’s always time for coffee. Come in and put your feet up for five minutes. You’re as white as a sheet. Have you seen a ghost?’

  Alfredo slumped into an armchair as the adrenalin from the drive dissipated, leaving him feeling like a damp rag. Señora Martin served a plate of almond biscuits straight from the oven with a jug of sweet coffee. She perched on the arm of her husband’s chair, nibbling a biscuit with tiny yellow teeth.

  ‘Tell me,’ said Galo. ‘What’s happened to Sam?’

  ‘This is going to sound crazy but I think she’s trapped in the mine. For some reason no-one is doing anything about it so I came here to find her.’