“Yes.” She controlled her hysteria. “I would like to thank you for putting us up last night, but I have to get this group back into town. We’ve lost most of our personal belongings.” She thought of the precious stone tablet. She thought of Mitch. “And right now I need to make arrangements to get everyone back to their families.”
Outlined by the sun, his features outlined were difficult to read, but the flash of white teeth said it all.
“Señorita Langley, please come with me.”
Wes moved in, and Chuck was quick to parallel Alex in a line of solidarity.
Solis’s onyx eyes slid across them and returned to Alex. “Señorita?”
“I’ll be right back.” Alex spoke to Wes. “Get the men ready. We’ll be on our way soon.”
Solis turned around, exposing a tiny scar of perspiration at the small of his back, a flaw she did not expect on the polished veneer. That stain bothered her. It was an unexpected glimpse at his imperfections.
Alex made it several steps outside the quarters, glancing back over her shoulder at the sweat-stained guard that fell into position in front of the door. She called out, “The fire has stopped. I can smell that, so we will be leaving now.”
There was no hesitation in the stride before her. Leather loafers hefted sand with each pace. Solis’s legs were not long. He was not tall. But Alex couldn’t help notice that every man in their path averted their eyes as he approached.
Unimpressed, she jogged a few steps to pull up even with Solis, standing nearly at shoulder level with him.
“Did you hear me? Thank you for putting us up last night, but I need to get my men out of here. Could you please explain that to the guard dog? I surely hope we are not being detained in any way.”
That was exactly what it looked like, but by trying to discredit it Alex hoped to make it untrue.
“This way.” Solis waved his hand up a metal staircase hugging the concrete façade of a two-story building.
At the bottom, Alex hesitated and looked over her shoulder knowing that Wes and Chuck’s faces were plastered against the tiny outcropping. Beside her, Solis waited with his arms crossed. In the sunlight his black hair glistened from the finger-combed hair gel. His skin was a blend of cocoa and honey, dotted with the remnants of childhood blemishes, and the pruned scruff formed symmetrical lines down the corners of his cheeks. He raised an eyebrow in impatience, but smiled as a reflex.
Alex grabbed the metal balustrade and felt the sting of heat. The morning sun warmed the surface enough to brand her. She looked towards the front rampart and searched for fire…for smoke…for any remnants of yesterday’s disaster−but the sky was cornflower blue. The damage on the other side of that wall ate at her. The Petén, just like the Amazon, was an oxygen tank for the planet. If the destruction was extensive it would be yet another challenge Earth faced.
Uneasy, Alex mounted the first step.
Below her, Solis looked up with a tainted expression from yesterday’s cordial host. His edginess grew every second that she loitered.
At the top of the staircase she stood before a metal door and waited.
“I’ll get it.” Solis spoke from a step down.
He joined her on the narrow landing, sliding past her, his hips brushing hers. Alex held her breath to minimize the contact, and recoiled at his smirk as he unlocked the door.
With a shove he pushed the door in and kept his hand extended in invitation. “Señorita.”
Disregarding him, Alex entered a room painted with the stark almond color that seemed ubiquitous in this compound. A three-wheeled chair sat before a wooden desk loaded with binoculars, boxes of shells and a six-pack of Gallo cerveza. Tacked to a corkboard on the wall were yellow sticky notes written in Spanish that she transcribed as rotational guard-duty agendas. The smell of sweat was strong in these tight confines, and over it she was aware of the tang of Solis’s cologne. Her stomach rebelled, but he was already reaching for a door in the corner.
“This way.”
The slick black cap disappeared inside the doorway and Alex was swift to follow, tempted by a waft of cold air. Air-conditioning! Beyond the door, they moved through a short, spartan corridor lined with doorways that reminded her of the university annexes. A Marlin 60 rifle stood propped in the corner. She eyed up the action, but as if reading her mind, Solis warned over his shoulder, “It’s not loaded.”
Perspiration still clung to her, an aphrodisiac for blood-lusting mosquitoes trapped inside this hallway. Her overly sensitive skin felt a lick of artificial air. She was certain of it. Solis reached into the back pocket of his khaki pants. He too was tarnished with sweat, the dark fishhook stain at the base of his back traveling higher. From his pocket he withdrew a small ring of keys and she heard their tiny jingle as he maneuvered the lock.
Bingo. Not even an inch open, Alex was hit in the face with a blast of cold air−a brisk caress of civilization−a luxury she had lived without for nearly eight months. She caught Solis’s side glance.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“It feels misplaced.”
They emerged into another corridor, but this one was protracted with walls painted forest green and trimmed with maple molding. Opulent gold carpeting scored by a leaf pattern runner ran the length of it. At ten-foot intervals on alternating sides stood bronze-finished accent tables, and above one of these tables Alex caught a glimpse of her profile in the reflection of a mirror hanging on the wall. She had cleaned with the soap and water their hospitable guests had provided, but nothing could wipe away remnants from the fire. A once white T-shirt was now mottled with soot, and though she had tried to wash the god-awful scent from her hair, she had resorted to pulling it back into a ponytail to ensure the tang stayed away.
Solis's keys were jingling again as he unlocked a door to their left. A burst of air colder than the first assaulted her and her eyes blinked. As Solis’s sweat-stained back stepped aside, Alex gasped. She stood in an office that could have easily been misplaced from a Park Avenue suite. Against the backdrop of floor to ceiling windows showcasing the activities of the compound, an expansive oak desk sat with the commanding presence of a judge’s bench. Elegant décor consisting of landscape paintings and a wood-paneled bar, complete with a crystal decanter set seemed surreal when just through the tinted glass, soldiers paced along a barbed wire wall.
“Subtle.” Was all Alex could manage.
Solis rounded behind the desk, listing forward so that his thighs pressed against the frame. Behind him an upholstered chair remained neglected as he tapped his fingers on a marble blotter. He glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on hers, and then he smiled. It was a gesture that made her stomach clench.
“I like a pleasant work atmosphere,” he shrugged and picked up a letter opener, another peculiar item when a mailbox or a postal service of any sort was implausible. Still, the long blade shined against his bronze fingers as he tapped the flat end on his palm.
“Look…” Alex ignored the obvious intimidation tactics, “−let’s cut the bull, shall we?”
Cut the bull, Solis mouthed as if testing out the words, and then nodded with a smirk. “Si. Bien. Let’s do that, Señorita.” He held the ivory handle of the letter opener between his fingers and twirled the sharp tip of the blade on the black marble. It spun several times until he engulfed the handle in his grip and pointed the tip at her.
“What brings you to this part of the jungle?” he asked. “I imagine by now that any archeologist with an ounce of brains knows the reputation of the area, and yet, here you are.”
What struck Alex was the change in Solis’ dialect. Yes, the deep Latin timbre remained, but the terminology had evolved into something akin to American slang. As a matter of fact, the suave veneer that should have fit in so well with this lavish office started to shed like a snake’s skin. The perceived charming smile with its brilliant white teeth altered into a sneer, and those teeth reminded her of the handle of the letter opener. Gleam
ing hair, slicked back into perfect control now disclosed defects. A few grey strands escaped the gelled finish and the luminosity behind his silhouette made their erratic spokes more evident. Perspiration leaked to the front of his shirt, scoring his abdomen. Inside the confines of his shirt-sleeve his bicep began to spasm as he jabbed the letter opener in the air.
“The Petén holds many secrets, Mr. Solis. That is why I am here. That you and this compound are one of those secrets is an inconvenience, and I am praying, not a danger to my men. What concerns me more than the seeming containment of my group is your lack of concern about the forest fire. If you are not worried about the impact on wildlife, or the destruction of vegetation, surely you are concerned by the attraction a major fire can cause. CONAP, the National Council of Protected Areas, or any peace corps movement will descend on you.”
Solis turned away from her to face the window, and for a second she considered fleeing through the door, but his indifference made her suspect she would not get far. From this second floor level, the morning sky was a vivid shade of blue, and to her relief, a blackbird flew beyond the perimeter of the compound as if it sensed there was a no-fly zone above this building.
“They will not come here.” Solis spoke to the glass.
The finality of his statement made her believe him.
“What is this place?” she asked. “A military operation?” She crossed her arms. “And what is your stand? All these outfits have a stand. What are you fighting for?”
Solis snorted and turned back towards her, one black eyebrow dipped in annoyance. “This is not a military operation.”
“Great.” She took a step back. “Then, again, I thank you for your hospitality, but now we need to get back to town.”
Without hesitation, Alex reached the door and turned the brass handle. It was locked. “Will you please unlock this?”
She dared not turn around and offer him any sign of panic.
“Let us cut the bull, Señorita Langley.”
The deep tone chilled her, but she still refused to turn around.
“Your men are free to go.”
Alex whirled.
“Good.”
“You are not.”
It grew hard to swallow. She tried to gauge Solis’s expression, but the sun had risen to a point that he was completely eclipsed−a black panther on the prowl.
“And why is that?” She tried to control her voice.
“There is a reason archeologists have disappeared here, Dr. Langley and you are about to discover why.”
The chill returned with a vengeance.
She had never identified herself as a doctor.
Chapter Seven
“Who are you?” Alex hissed.
Solis crossed his arms. A cumulous cloud crept before the sun enabling her to see his face. He smiled, but the lips were drawn tight and wrinkles formed black slits at the corners of his eyes. He was by no means the vision of sophistication and handsome looks that was initially perceived. He was a man dressed in subtle, but expensive clothes, standing in an office decorated with exotic paintings, oriental vases, and lush furniture−all deceptive cloaks to hide the malice beneath.
He rounded the desk, and Alex remained alert to the letter opener in his hand.
“There will be plenty of time to talk about it.”
To her horror, he reached forward with the tip of the blade to brush away a clump of hair that had worked loose from her ponytail. She jerked out of reach.
“Look, I don’t know how you know who I am, but you have to face facts that I can’t go missing. The museum will send out a search party if I don’t check in.”
Solis grinned, but lowered the letter opener. “You overestimate your value, Señorita. Your men will return to civilization and report that you died in the fire.”
What the−
The words felt like a punch to the gut. As preposterous as they were, the soulless gaze of Juan Miguel Solis spoke of their frank inevitability. This man. This plight. It was insane. Completely insane. Yet, his humorless smile enforced the fact that she was doomed.
If she was about to discover the answer to the disappearance of the archeologists first hand, she wasn’t going to go without a battle.
“You will not fight me on this,” Solis read her eyes. “If you resist in any way, I will kill your men. One by one for every act of defiance.”
Ire cancelled out the air conditioning. Heat coiled at the base of Alex’s neck and rose to her face.
“Let’s be clear on something…” her voice was controlled despite the tightness of her throat. “My men will be freed. Now. If you want any cooperation from me, they are leaving. Now.”
Solis measured her for a moment. Though he stood motionless, it felt as if he circled her, gauging the perfect point of attack. She had been in many tight situations. Most recently was the fire, a dramatic event of epic proportions−but in every case her fear had been for others. At this moment Alex felt a bone-numbing fear for herself.
Boom boom boom.
The unexpected knock on the door sent a shock through her. She shoved her hands in her pockets so as not to reveal the mutinous tremble of her body.
Boom boom. “Solis!”
Alex felt the tremors persist, but it was one small victory to see Solis lose his cool.
“Qué?” he barked.
A rapid string of Spanish revealed that it was her own men that were the subject of this interruption. She came alert as Solis charged towards the door, administered his keys and yanked it open.
A man in military surplus gear stood outside. Solis had shouldered her aside in his haste to get to the door, but Alex listened intently to the exchange and injected a few words of protest when she heard her men being referenced.
“Callate!” Solis screamed at her and grabbed the door, obscuring the soldier from view.
With a curse, Solis looked over his shoulder at her. Alex raised her head and awaited the needless translation he was about to deliver.
“You have ten minutes to get your group to calm down or we start doing it for you. I don’t need the disruption. It may appear like we have all the time in the world on our hands, but I am busy and I have tasks to assign to my soldiers. Tasks more important than quieting your students.”
Solis stepped back, the door still in his grasp, stabbing his finger at the soldier. “Take her. If she cannot shut her group up, then start shooting them.”
Oh God.
“They will calm down if I can tell them that they are leaving.” Alex challenged.
A silent duel transpired until Solis grew impatient and jerked his head in affirmation. He addressed the soldier and stepped back out of the way. “Bring her back here as soon as they are gone.”
The man moved in, his hand clamping down on her arm with a grip that stung. Trying to tug free, Alex glared at him, but his eyes were unreadable behind dark sunglasses.
“She must stay unharmed,” Solis warned as the guard yanked on her. “Kill the men to control her.”
“Go to hell,” Alex hissed over her shoulder.
Solis slammed the door in her face.
***
Mitch felt the resistance in Alex. It was like hauling a child into the dentist office. The muscle beneath his hand cramped in protest.
Moments ago he had exhausted every key on the ring he had appropriated from the unconscious guerilla to make it up here. Solis, as he had heard the guards refer to their leader was the next obstacle. Mitch kept the rifle slung across his shoulder, but his free hand wrapped around a switchblade in his pocket should his masquerade be revealed. As Mitch expected, Solis had no recognition for individual faces in his army, he cared only that they executed his bidding.
With Alex in hand, Mitch started to relax after they passed through the ridiculously posh corridor and into the guard shack at the top of the stairs. He couldn’t let up on his grip however. If she broke free, her fate would be sealed.
“Vamos,” he whispered, urging her throu
gh the door and into the brilliant light of day.
He felt the recoil of her body, but then she raised her hand over her eyes to shield them, seeking out the stronghold where her group was contained.
Urging her down the stairs, he noticed that she no longer resisted him. Instead, she was eager to reach their destination and ended up hauling him. They started across the open courtyard, the crunch of dry dirt beneath their boots. Mitch had to think in short-term goals. Each step across the open turf was a small goal. The major objective was to reach the first concrete structure and get behind it, knowing full well that Solis stood at his window watching their progress.
Attaining that goal by rounding the corner, Mitch yanked Alex, but it took a lot of force to break her from her track towards her students.
“What the−”
Mitch drew her into the shadows and took stock of the nearby personnel. Within closest proximity, a guard smoked a cigarette, his shoulder propped against the front gate. Mitch pushed Alex further along the wall, out of his view.
“Goddammit, you are not going to do this!” She struggled against him.
“Look,” he began, “I know I haven’t made much of an impact, but I damn well nearly kissed you the other day. I would think you might recognize me.”
The shock was so severe he had to hold onto her as she sagged against the concrete. Her normally tan complexion paled and her breathing turned into a short succession of hiccups.
“Hey. Easy, Alex.” He propped her against the wall, trying to make sure she didn’t slide down into a pile at his feet and draw attention. To the passing eye it might look like he was molesting her.
“You−”
“Look at me.” Mitch let go and tore off his sunglasses.
Her eyes devoured him with enough zeal to siphon his strength. After that initial feast he could see clarity return.
Jungle of Deceit Page 8
