Empire of the Skull

by Philip Caveney

  Luis laughed bitterly. 'I just don' like to see anyone being deceived,' he said. 'But you are right of course. I should stick to my own plans.' He put his watch back into his pocket. 'And it's time to get things moving.'

  'What things, exactly?' asked the oil man. 'I don't know, Luis . . . I turn up at the landing strip today and there's you, waiting for the same plane. I know you like to follow me around, but this is getting ridiculous! People are starting to talk. What kind of business could you possibly have in Tonala?'

  Luis shook his head. 'I don' have no business there, Señor Nelson. I'm not even planning to go to Tonala.' He picked up his bag and rummaged around inside it.

  'What are you talking about? What do you mean, you're not planning to go there? That's where we're headed, isn't it?'

  When Luis's hand emerged from his bag, it was holding a pistol. He thrust the barrel against the back of Nelson's head. Conchita gave a gasp of terror and shrank back against the window, as if trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the gun.

  'None of us are going to Tonala, Señor Nelson,' said the Mexican. 'Not just yet. There will be a small change of plan.' With his free hand he pulled out a sheet of paper, which he held out to Ethan. 'Take the paper, Mr Wade . . . Real careful now.'

  Ethan did as he was told. He saw that it was a set of hand-written instructions.

  'I want you to give that to the pilot,' said Luis calmly. 'Tell him to change course. I don' want nobody to worry. We will make a little detour, that's all. Señor Nelson will be getting off with me, and then your plane will be refuelled and the rest of you can go on your way. Tell Señor Dorfmann, if he doesn't do what I ask, I will start shooting.'

  Ethan gazed scornfully at him. 'Don't do this,' he said. 'This isn't your style.'

  Luis laughed. 'What are you talking about? You don' even know me.'

  'I know enough to appreciate that this isn't the kind of move that comes easy to a man like you. You've got to try and achieve change the right way.'

  'I have tried,' Luis told him. 'Everything I can think of. I've tried reasoning with this man, I've tried pleading with him, but he never listens.' A look of rage came into his dark eyes. 'Two months ago, I and the other members of the Huasteca Alliance contacted Señor Nelson. We told him about a native village that lay in the path of his forest clearance. He assured us that they would be left unharmed. A week ago I went to visit that village . . .' Now his eyes filled with tears. 'It was gone, the huts destroyed, the people dead. Eventually I found one frightened child hiding in the forest. He told me that white men had come in the night and set fire to the huts, then started killing the villagers as they tried to run—'

  'I hope you're not suggesting I had anything to do with that!' protested Nelson indignantly. 'I never went near any village.'

  'Oh, not you,' admitted Luis. 'People like you don't do their own dirty work. You hire others to do it for you.' He raised his left arm and dashed away the tears with his shirtsleeve. 'So now I finish trying to persuade you nicely. Now I take you hostage and we see if other people listen to what I have to say.'

  'This is nuts,' said Nelson, gazing straight ahead. 'You haven't thought this through, Chavez. They won't give you a plugged nickel.'

  'Oh, but I don' want money. That's the last thing I want! I have friends waiting at a landing strip in the jungle – somewhere they'll never find us. People who think like I do.'

  'Terrorists, you mean.'

  'No. Other members of the Huasteca Alliance. People who have realized we're not getting anywhere trying to do this through official channels. People who are prepared to do anything necessary to protect the rainforest. We'll put the plane down there and we'll get a message to your people in Veracruz: "Cut back on land clearance or we'll send you your boss's head." Then maybe we'll see some action.'

  'Young man,' said Coates calmly, 'I understand you have grievances with Mr Nelson, but believe me, this is not the way to settle them.'

  'Thanks for the advice,' said Luis. 'But you didn't see that village. You didn't see what his people did to helpless women and children.' He glanced around at the others. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but the rest of you will have to wait for a while. It will not take too long, and then you can go on your way. Miss Velez, I hope you will be in Tonala for your appointment.' He nodded at Ethan. 'Take the message, vaquero,' he said. 'Now.'

  Ethan frowned and nodded. He got slowly to his feet and headed towards the cockpit; and at that instant, Frank Campbell threw himself across the aisle at Luis, grabbing his gun arm and wrenching it sideways. There was the sharp crack of the gun firing, the bullet missing Nelson's head by inches and punching right through the aluminium partition between cockpit and cabin. Frank started wrestling with Luis, and Coates scrambled up to lend him a hand. Ethan was about to turn back and help them but he froze as he heard Alec give a yell of terror from the cockpit. The plane suddenly pitched forward and Ethan had to fling out his arms to stop himself falling.

  There was a moment when time seemed to slow down. Ethan stood there, clinging to the arm of a seat and looking at the chaos in front of him. Coates and Frank were still struggling with Luis. Nelson was slumped in his seat, his hands held to his ears after being almost deafened by the pistol shot. Conchita was backed up against the cabin window, screaming in terror. Then Ethan realized that the plane was losing height at a terrifying rate. He swore under his breath and half staggered, half fell towards the cockpit. Alec was sitting in the co-pilot's seat in silent terror. Beside him, Klaus was slumped over the controls, blood pumping from a bullet wound in his back.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Descent

  To Alec everything seemed to have been plunged, quite suddenly, into madness. One moment he'd been sitting there without a care in the world, enjoying the sensation of flying and gazing down at the lush green landscape unfolding far below him. The next, the bullet had punched through the back of Klaus's seat and slammed into his spine, flinging him forward over the controls. Instantly, the plane's nose had dropped, and once again Alec was experiencing that sickening sensation of falling helplessly out of the sky.

  Then Ethan burst through the doorway and started to try and prise Klaus away from the controls, but it was horribly cramped in the cockpit, and the fact that they were descending so steeply made the task almost impossible.

  'What is it with you and aeroplanes?' Ethan yelled at Alec as he tried to get his hands on the joystick. 'Remind me not to let you get in one ever again.'

  'What happened?' gasped Alec. 'That bullet . . .'

  'Luis Chavez happened,' said Ethan, pulling at Klaus's shoulders. 'He was trying to take Nelson hostage. There was a struggle and the gun went off. Heck. We're getting awful low . . .'

  Alec stared ahead in horrified fascination. The dense jungle was rushing up to meet them at a terrifying speed. He undid his seat belt and tried to help Ethan pull Klaus back in his seat; but as he took hold of the pilot's arm, he moaned and lifted his head.

  'What happened?' he gasped.

  'You've been shot,' said Ethan. 'We've got to get the nose of this plane up fast or we're going to crash.'

  Klaus nodded but he didn't seem to take it in. 'Who . . . ? Who shot me?'

  'Never mind that now,' Alec urged him. 'Try to—' He broke off in amazement, staring down. He was looking at a large clearing in the midst of the green vegetation, a great rectangle where grey stone cut straight lines through the undergrowth. He saw houses, streets, a marketplace; and then, even more astounding, rearing up from the midst of the stone, a huge step pyramid. Alec's first thought was that it was an ancient ruin, but the plane was low enough now for him to see crowds of people around the base; at the summit, figures dressed in masks and colourful robes were staring up as the plane thundered over them. Above them towered a huge statue of what looked like a skeleton with a hideous grinning skull.

  Alec was speechless for a moment – and when he finally opened his mouth to shout something, the pyramid had already
dropped away behind them and the plane was over jungle once more. He turned to look at Ethan but the American was intent on getting Klaus out of the way and it was clear he had seen nothing.

  Alec decided that this was no time to dwell on what he might or might not have seen. Right now there were more pressing matters.

  'Klaus!' he yelled into the German's ear. 'You've got to pull the plane up. We're going to crash!'

  Klaus's ice-blue eyes flickered as he seemed to register Alec's words. He nodded and began to pull back on the joystick. The plane's nose came up a little and the descent slowed. But Alec could see that the pilot was barely conscious. There was a thick sheen of sweat on his face and his teeth were gritted against the pain of the bullet. Alec stole a glance and saw that the back of his shirt was soaked with blood.

  'You'll have to take over the controls, Ethan,' he shouted.

  Ethan was studying them doubtfully. 'I'm not sure,' he said. 'This isn't like any plane I've ever flown.'

  'I'm all right,' gasped Klaus. 'I . . . can do this . . . really. We just need to keep heading southeast and—' His eyes suddenly rolled back and he slumped forward again, his hands still clutching the joystick. The plane went into another dive, almost throwing Alec and Ethan into the windscreen. As he pushed himself upright, Alec registered that the canopy of the trees was perilously close. Flocks of birds were flapping up into the air, alarmed by the roar of the engine.

  'We've got to get him out of his seat!' he cried.

  Ethan had managed to get Klaus's seat belt undone and was tugging furiously at his shoulders, but he was still slumped over the joystick, his hands gripping it as though trying to protect it. Alec heard a dull thud as the plane's wheels clipped a chunk of foliage from the treetops.

  'Ethan!' he gasped. 'Try to—'

  'Too late!' Ethan yelled back at him. 'Brace yourself for impact.'

  Alec saw what looked like a green ocean rising up to meet them. He threw out his arms and hooked them around the back of the co-pilot's seat, and then the undercarriage ploughed through the treetops. Alec was just telling himself that it wasn't as bad as he'd expected when the propeller slammed into something more substantial and shattered. A large sliver of wood careened off the windshield and went spinning away. Then there was a great grinding roar as the Junkers, carried along by its own momentum, crashed headlong through leaves and twigs and branches.

  Suddenly there was a massive impact that shook Alec's body to the core and the plane's left wing was ripped away with a sound like an explosion. Then there was a long, buffeting, shaking tumble, which threatened to throw Alec backwards into the cabin, but he clung onto the seat until he thought his arms would be torn from their sockets. Another impact shuddered through the plane and it began to whirl around in a mad, dizzying circle, thundering down through humid darkness, tearing through the trees before striking what felt like solid ground. Then it began to slide along on its belly, glancing off a series of tree trunks as it went. One side of the fuselage was suddenly opened up like a tin can and Alec dimly registered a scream of terror from somewhere behind him, but then, at last, the plane eased to a halt.

  There was a long silence. Alec remembered to let go of the seat and slumped onto the floor. He saw that Ethan was still hanging onto Klaus's seat. The windscreen had shattered and the cockpit was filled with a mad jumble of branches. One stout tree limb had come within inches of Klaus's chest. Alec turned and gazed around the dark, smoke-filled cabin. His nostrils filled with the stench of petrol. He could see that three of the seated passengers were still strapped in, but Coates and Frank Campbell were lying in an untidy heap at the very back of the plane. As he looked, the two men stirred and began to disentangle themselves from each other.

  'Everybody all right?' he asked fearfully, but the only replies he got were a few groans.

  'Everybody out, quick as you can!' announced Ethan, from behind him. 'This thing could blow! Alec, give me a hand with Klaus.'

  Alec nodded. He tried to stand up but realized that his whole body was shaking with adrenalin. He gritted his teeth, got himself upright and stumbled towards Klaus. Together, he and Ethan manoeuvred him up from his seat and dragged him out through the ragged opening in the plane's side. They fell to the ground, which was wet and boggy underfoot, and carried the German a safe distance away. Alec knew from his own experience that crashed planes had a tendency to explode and he didn't want to be standing next to this one if it did.

  As they stumbled off through the undergrowth, Coates came stumbling out through a rip in the side of the fuselage and almost fell to the ground. Alec saw that he had a deep gash across his forehead and blood was coursing down his face. He was quickly followed by the other passengers. Ulysses T. Nelson was still holding a hand to one ear. Frank helped a sobbing Conchita out, one arm curled protectively around her shoulders. Last of all came Luis Chavez, his face pale. He gazed around at the devastation he had caused as though unable to believe his eyes. He looked this way and that, and finally saw Alec and Ethan setting Klaus down on the ground. He hurried towards them.

  'How is he?' he gasped.

  'Still alive, no thanks to you,' snapped Ethan.

  'You hit him in the back.'

  'Oh no . . .' Luis was shaking his head. 'It was an accident. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. I only wanted—'

  'Save your breath,' Ethan told him. He propped Klaus forward into a sitting position, then took a hunting knife from his belt and slit the back of his shirt open, revealing the entry wound, a round hole the size of a sovereign.

  Alec winced. It looked serious. Ethan tore a strip of the shirt away, folded it into a wad and pressed it hard against the wound. He looked up and saw that the others were settling themselves down only a few feet away from the wreckage. Thick smoke was pouring from the open hatch. 'I'd advise you all to move further away!' he shouted. 'That plane could go up any minute!'

  Everybody obeyed him instantly, stumbling and tripping through the dense vegetation. Coates was mopping at his bloody forehead with a clean white handkerchief. In his other hand he carried a pistol – which, Alec assumed, must have belonged to Luis Chavez. He came over and looked at Klaus doubtfully.

  The German stirred, moaned and his eyes flickered open. He looked around, and then his gaze fell on the shattered remains of the Junkers.

  'Oh no,' he said. He started to get up but a spasm of pain lanced through him and he dropped back against Ethan with a grunt.

  Luis moved forward to kneel before him. 'Señor Dorfmann,' he said, 'I am so sorry. You have to believe me, it was a mistake, I never meant for any of this to happen.' He looked pleadingly at Alec. 'You believe me, don' you? I was just trying to kidnap Señor Nelson.'

  Alec stared at him. 'But why?' he asked. 'Why would you do something like that?'

  'So I could help to save this.' He gestured at the dense forest all around them. 'So he wouldn't carry on cutting it all down. I tried doing it through legal channels but they just ignored me.' He reached out and grabbed Klaus's sleeve, 'I only wanted to divert your plane,' he said. 'For a few days. Nobody was going to be harmed, that was never the plan.' He pointed towards Frank Campbell. 'But then that maniac jumped me and the gun went off.'

  Frank looked over his shoulder in disbelief. 'Oh, I'm the maniac, am I? That's great. You was the one waving the gun around, matey. What did you expect me to do, sit there smilin'?' Beside him, Conchita burst into fresh tears and Frank put a consoling arm around her. 'There, there, Conchita, don't you worry now. We'll get you out of here – I'm sure help will be on its way in no time at all.' Ethan glanced at Alec. 'I don't know what gives him that idea,' he murmured. 'Who the hell is going to find us way out here?'

  Klaus groaned again, then glared at Luis Chavez. 'Damn you,' he hissed. 'You have ruined me. That plane was my livelihood. It was all I had.' He coughed, and blood sprayed out of his mouth. He lifted his gaze and saw Coates standing a short distance away, still holding the pistol. 'Give me that gun,' he said.

  Co
ates shook his head. 'Suicide is not the answer,' he said.

  'Who said anything about suicide?' snapped Klaus. He jabbed a finger at Luis. 'I'm going to shoot him.'

  'I understand how you feel,' said Ethan, 'but we can't let you do that.' He studied Klaus for a moment. 'Who knows where we are?'

  Klaus squinted up at him. 'Huh?'

  'Somebody must know what route we were taking.'

  'I mentioned it . . . to my mechanic,' said Klaus.

  'That's it? Your mechanic? There's nobody else? No official body, no airport or other authority?'

  Klaus forced a laugh through gritted teeth. 'It's a one-man show, Mr Wade. I cut a lot of . . . corners. Have to if it's going to work financially. And besides, even if people knew . . . the route we were taking . . . it would be like trying to find the needle in the . . . in the . . .'

  'Haystack?' said Alec, trying to be helpful. He looked at the dank green forest. 'So we're lost? Is that what you're saying?'

  Klaus nodded. 'Done for,' he muttered. He glared at Luis again. 'You might as well have put a bullet in each one of us.'

  'Look,' said Luis, 'I already told you, I—'

  He broke off in alarm as a hand closed on his collar and jerked him to his feet. He turned to be met by a punch in the face from a powerful right hand, and sprawled to the ground. Nelson stood over him, his fists raised.

  'You dirty little sneak, I ought to beat you senseless,' he snarled. 'Look what you've done, Chavez. Look what you've brought us all to.'

  Luis gazed up defiantly at his old enemy and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. 'You should be thanking me, Señor Nelson,' he said. 'You're always in the market for more jungle and now you've got as much as you can handle.'

  Nelson launched a savage kick into the ribs of the Mexican, who curled up into a foetal position with a howl of pain.

  'Not so tough now, are ya?' taunted the oil man. 'You greasy little cockroach, I should have paid somebody to take you out years ago. But no, I tried to do it by the book. And look where it's got me!' He lifted his foot to take another kick, but froze at the sound of a pistol being cocked. He turned in surprise to find that Coates was pointing the gun at him.