by Aiden James
“It is a woman, right?” Ishi sought to confirm. “A woman who is not afraid of losing her head, no?”
“That’s correct, my friend…. She apparently knows the area and the jungles as well as anyone,” I said, waiting until we made it to the covered walkway. The facilities at Mariscal Sucre International Airport were fairly new, and the place seemed vastly superior to the majority of South American airports I had visited during the past twenty years. I had heard that many of them were being modernized, so maybe other airports were getting updated, too. “Jacobs said she’s better than most of the male guides, and he also advised she is the only one with a pedigree that can help us with the Jivaro… remember?”
“Her ancestors were Jivaro?”
“Yeah… probably on her mother’s side, since her last name is Navarro,” I said, suddenly noticing a late model Jeep that matched Agent Jacobs’ description of what Ms. Navarro would be driving. I motioned for Ishi to follow me across the street to where the Jeep sat under a large canopy, next to a handful of taxis and shuttles awaiting fresh passengers. “That could be her.”
I’ll admit I was expecting a gal hardened by time spent in the Andean wilderness—which is how Jacobs described her on the way to Dulles. She was taller than expected, given her heritage, standing just a few inches shorter than me as she stepped out of the Jeep to greet us. She was also gorgeous.
“Nick Caine and Ishi Cuyamel?”
She smiled warmly, and her voice carried an alluring grace… lovely, yet at the same time there was something hard about it… hard as nails, actually. This was a no-nonsense lady who seemed aware that I had taken a brief moment to size her up. No, I hadn’t mentally undressed her—that wouldn’t be my M.O. for as long as my heart belonged to Marie—whether truly deceased, or as our convenient Scottish cabby named Brodie MacFarlane claimed, still alive in some other realm.
“I am Mayta Navarro, the guide my friend Brandon Jacobs has hired to help you find the Pierce family.”
She sized me up with a quick glance, allowing her deep brown eyes to linger longer on Ishi in his bashfulness. He was taken by her presence as well, but his complete lack of pretentiousness seemed to sit better with her. In other words, Ishi wasn’t a threat… and I had some work to do in order to show her I wasn’t a threat either.
“Go ahead and get in,” she said.
In retrospect, I should’ve suggested that Ishi take the front passenger seat. But he had chosen the back seat before I finished loading our bags into the Jeep’s rear compartment. Besides, I had a subject to help break the initial awkwardness… or so I hoped.
“How long have you known Agent Jacobs?” I asked.
“Did he tell you that he has arranged for you both to stay tonight in the Mansion del Angel?” she replied, ignoring my question.
“Yes, he did,” I said. “I hear the cuisine served at the restaurant on site is outstanding.”
“It is… I have dined there once myself,” she said, grinning smugly. Her long dark hair fell forward as she swerved onto the roadway.
Not sure why I was being played like this, but based on previous run-ins with strong independent gals, I could tell she was setting parameters. It seemed wisest to let her run the show initially, and I would have to wait for my opportunities to learn more about her. I wasn’t about to ask her again how she and our boss became friends. Maybe it was just a cultural thing, like in Mexico where just about everyone I had ever met for the first time would either refer to me in conversation as ‘my friend’ or the standard ‘amigo’.
“Brandon Jacobs’ father once taught at the Central University of Ecuador,” she said. “I was a student in his history classes for three years, and I met Brandon one summer when he came to visit from the United States.”
Wow. As if she had discerned my private musing she delivered another unexpected response, leaving more sidebars as potential explosives than an Iraqi minefield might contain.
“He seems like a real good guy,” I said. “Ishi and I haven’t known him long, but so far we enjoy working for him and Agent Spence.”
“Brandon’s boss…. So, this is your first assignment?”
I detected tension in her voice, so this information came to her as a surprise.
“Yes… yes it is, actually,” I told her, wondering how much longer it would be before I seriously regretted not going to Fiji. “But, Ishi and I have many years of experience in this type of expedition.”
“You mean living for a few weeks in the Amazon jungles,” she confirmed, with enough skepticism to pull Ishi’s attention from the iPad he had been fiddling with behind us. “Besides dealing with the rain, you have gone that long without any contact with modern conveniences… such as the iPad, no?”
“Tell her, Ishi… what’s the longest we have stayed away from any town—even those that carry what would be considered modern conveniences in the nineteen-forties,” I said, with a healthy dose of my own smugness. “With a good spell spent in the rain, too.”
“Five weeks,” he said, after deliberating for nearly a full minute. “But it was not good… we almost got killed several times. Once by a jaguar, then there was quicksand, and after that we were captured by the Rodriguez brothers who said they were going to cut off our—”
“That’s all right, Ishi—I’m sure Mayta gets the point,” I said, wishing to God that he had chosen a different adventure to highlight.
Meanwhile, our haughty hostess chuckled. “I can take you to your hotel right now… or we can get a head start on the supplies we will need,” she said. “Brandon has already wired me the money for expenses, so there is no need to wait. That way, we can be on our way to Cuenca at dawn tomorrow. As surely you know, the longer we take to get going on this, the worse the chances are of finding the Pierces.”
“At least finding them alive,” I deadpanned, quietly. “Sure, let’s go ahead and take care of the supplies and whatever non-perishable food items you believe we’ll need. Ishi and I haven’t eaten since around four o’clock this morning, so we might need to stop somewhere for a bite before too long.”
“Great, I know just the place to pick up what we need, and there are a few restaurants nearby.”
Running the show was definitely Mayta Navarro’s comfort zone, and the initial coolness seemed to thaw a bit while we purchased tents, backpacks, and a host of digging supplies in what at first looked like a rag-tag sporting goods store. But we managed to eliminate much of our collective lists in the store—including a pair of Bowie knives. Since I hadn’t expected to find the genuine article, despite Quito being a major Ecuadorian city, I decided to purchase both knives, giving one to Ishi for safekeeping.
Mayta found my knife fetish humorous, and teased me about the pair of machetes we also purchased being vastly more handy than the ‘wood whittling’ blades I bought.
Afterward, the same lighthearted feeling followed us as the sunshine returned and she led the way to a small open-air café that specialized in the local cuisine Ishi and I were craving. It was here that Mayta decided to share personal information about her Jivaro heritage as it pertained to what we would soon face.
“Many of the jungles in Ecuador have been explored by modern peoples… but many more have not,” she said. “My Jivaro heritage comes from my mother’s ancestors, who stepped away from our tribe before the nineteenth century had ended. The modern name for the Jivaro, by the way, is Shuar. But I prefer to save that term for the civilized descendants and not the tribes who remain in hiding, deep in the jungles of Ecuador and Colombia…. Knowledge of legends and customs have stayed with my family, despite being separated from our tribe by time and distance. And, I will say this: Failure to fully appreciate the Jivaro’s desire to stay separate from the modern world can get a person killed quite easily.”
“Even after all these years, they remain that violently hostile to outsiders?” I asked, hoping the words came out of my mouth respectfully, as the guarapo served with our meal proved to be more potent than I had a
nticipated. Somehow, despite the sugar cane liquor’s sweetness, it was better than Scotch for dousing the pain from a broken heart. Or, perhaps it was the lack of disdain for my cigarettes that inspired the blissful and carefree feeling as we talked while watching the local citizenry pass by our table located near the street. “So, you think the Pierce party is already dead?”
She didn’t answer right away, her eyes drawn to an older couple slowly navigating the other side of the roadway. Ishi’s and my gaze followed hers.
“They could be dead,” she said finally. “It would be better for us if they are alive.”
Aside from the obvious reasons, I prodded her to define what she meant by that.
“Because if they are alive, we have a chance to penetrate deep enough in the jungles to find them, and perhaps catch the Jivaro warriors—who I feel certain have captured them—by surprise,” she explained. “But if they have already been killed by the Jivaro, then the warriors will be waiting….”
“And if that happens, I suppose it won’t be a pretty end for us, will it?” I said, when she wouldn’t finish.
“I don’t want my head cut off,” said Ishi, worriedly.
“If you get hit in the neck first with a poisonous dart, you probably won’t feel a damned thing, Ishi,” I teased, spurred on by my enhanced euphoria. “I doubt anyone will be sawing on body parts until after we’re dead.”
“So, you think we will die?”
Damn. I should’ve tried to tackle that last part before it slipped beyond my flapping gums.
“If the two of you trust me and don’t get in the way of me doing my job the right way, you should have nothing to worry about,” said Mayta, evenly. “You are going to have to leave your cigarettes out of the jungle, Nick. The Jivaro will smell you from a mile away.”
Well, that sucked. I almost put up a challenge, but the stern look in her eyes succeeded in eliciting a nod that I would comply with her request.
“I have a good friend who is also a Jivaro descendant,” she continued. “He will meet us in Cuenca tomorrow; today he is exploring the immediate jungle outside of Logrono. He knows the area very well and this will save us several days. We need to find Dr. Pierce and his group quickly.”
So she wasn’t planning on searching the jungles for weeks after all, huh? And, yes, that question went unasked, though she could likely tell from my expression that I was dying to say something smartass.
“I don’t anticipate actually needing three weeks to find them,” she advised, making me more paranoid about how readable my poker face had become in the wake of my split with Marie. “No one disappears into the land of the Jivaro without a trace in the modern era, especially since Brandon told me that Dr. Pierce was carrying satellite phones at one time. The last transmission’s map coordinates are where my friend is searching today….”
The way she said this last point made me think that she was expecting news of body recoveries from this Cuencan friend of hers. I again held my tongue about the possibility of surviving in the jungle without phone access. Missing out on food and medical supplies would be much more dire, I would think. But at this point, the best thing to do was either wait for news on what Mayta’s buddy discovered or make the trip south and find out for ourselves what in the hell was going on.
We wrapped up our lunch, and since we had procured enough supplies to last at least a couple of weeks, there was no need to do any additional shopping. Perishable staples would be purchased in Cuenca, or Logrono, depending on when we headed out on the highway Tuesday morning.
Mayta dropped us off in front of the Mansion del Angel with an advisement to meet her out in front of the hotel at 6:00 a.m. sharp, sounding a lot like Agent Jacobs at that moment. Then she disappeared into the mid-afternoon traffic.
The rest of the day was spent relaxing in our room, or watching kids take over the swimming pool directly below our second floor balcony. Once again, Ishi was first to retire that night, and I sat outside until I finished enjoying the last of an open pack of cigarettes.
I tried not to think about too much, hoping to get a better night’s sleep than what I had managed lately. But my thoughts turned to Marie and her crazy swan dive inside the mystical Scottish cave by Loch Morar. The only thing that pushed our tearful goodbye out of my head was the image of Mayta Navarro with her hard stare and ‘no bullshit’ attitude.
The two women were not that much alike… or were they?
The only thing I could say for certain is although I couldn’t say for sure how Mayta would react to Marie, I had a strong hunch Marie would like Mayta… probably like her an awful lot.
Chapter Five
On a hunch, Ishi and I got up a little earlier than originally planned. We grabbed some grub from the on-site restaurant that was just opening for business, and stepped outside at 5:45 a.m. to find Mayta waiting for us. Waiting and wearing what I hoped was a playfully perturbed expression, as if we were half an hour late instead of being fifteen minutes early.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” I said, after Ishi climbed into the front seat at my behest and she offered a tepid reply to his greeting. I caught her eyeing me through the rearview mirror and tipped my fedora to her. I couldn’t tell if she was smiling, despite an impish twinkle in her eyes, but I sure as hell was. Having a better—and safer—vantage point from the Jeep’s backseat already made it a good day. “How long does it take to reach Cuenca?”
I handed Ishi a small backpack that held his iPad and laptop, and heartily patted his shoulder in a show of support for his bravery in taking the front seat. All kidding aside, I was prepared for Mayta’s disdainful regard for Ishi’s fondness of electronic devices that would soon prove useless once we were officially ‘off the grid’ in every sense of that term’s meaning.
“A computer might come in handy,” I said, in response to her noticeable sigh after he had pulled out the laptop and a small cell phone he purchased the day before to act as a modem. “At least until we are out of contact with your country’s wireless providers.”
“The signal will be too weak once we are outside of Quito and again when we are one hundred kilometers away from Cuenca heading south,” she advised. “And as to your question, Nick, it technically takes almost six hours to reach Cuenca from here. I can get us there in just over four hours.”
Now she was smiling, proudly… until Ishi burst that bubble of arrogance.
“No disrespect intended, Miss Mayta, but according to the maps I have studied since last night, we will head southwest to reach Cuenca, and then we must travel southeast from there to reach Logrono,” he said, his tone subdued, as if he feared ruffling her feathers. “It appears that going to Cuenca will add extra hours to get to Logrono, as compared to driving directly to Logrono from here. Two hours, specifically.... Is this not correct?”
Nicely played, little buddy… or, so I thought. It took her less than thirty seconds to douse the illusion of one-upmanship in the front seat.
“I appreciate that you have gone to such trouble, Ishi,” she said, sweetly, while casting a stern glance in my direction as if this was my idea, and therefore my fault. “You are certainly correct—it would be easier, and quicker to go directly to Logrono. However, Marcos is most comfortable meeting me in Cuenca…. Not everyone in my country disregards old superstitions like I do. He won’t meet me anywhere near Logrono, and we need to know what he has discovered.”
“And, yet he is willing to go beyond the town of Logrono and into the jungles of the Jivaro?” It made absolutely no sense to me that this friend of hers could do one thing but not the other.
“I know it makes little sense,” she said.
“It makes zero sense,” I countered, my contempt for supporting that sort of debilitating perspective shining through, big time.
“You know so little about us, Nick Caine,” she said, coolly. “And you have never shown consideration for local customs and traditions—including belief in the ones dealing with the supernatural—in your other tr
avels, no? If so, you are even less skilled than I believed you were yesterday.”
Ouch!
For a moment, I wanted to tell her about Sekhmet in Egypt and Morag in Scotland—strange beings that went way beyond simple superstition, since Ishi and I dealt with these ‘other worldly’ beings face-to-face. Hell, even the Ambrosius Amulet was something that would surely amaze her. None of that was based on mere fanciful fears of the Ecuador jungles that might contain a smidgen of truth but likely did not…. That’s what I wanted to tell her. Yet, this wasn’t a pissing contest, and I regretted reacting to her explanation as I did, although it did make zero sense.
“Okay… you are correct about that, Mayta. I’m sorry for rushing to conclusions about your friend,” I said, trying to sound like I fully meant it.
She studied me in the mirror with repeated glances as she drove, while I fought to restrain the part of me that remained indignant. It must’ve made me look unsure, as if I felt awkward and contrite. But it proved effective in getting her to move on.
“I accept your apology,” she said. “It will be worth it to meet Marcus where he is most comfortable, which is at his Cuenca home. Yes, we will lose a few hours…. But at least we are on the road now instead of waiting until afternoon. Do you not agree?”
Her smile came across as completely genuine, and Ishi seemed relieved when I did offer my unreserved agreement. I hoped it became the cornerstone for a healthier interaction with her, since for better or for worse we would be dealing with each other’s quirks and temperaments more intimately as our journey progressed.
The drive to Cuenca was one of the most scenic I had witnessed in South America, with breathtaking views available from either side of the Jeep. Mayta was correct in that it took far less than six hours to reach the city, although it was closer to 10:30 a.m. when we reached the northeastern outskirts. Cuenca is roughly one-fifth the size of Quito, and it surprised me when Mayta claimed that the city had become one of the biggest tourist attractions in Ecuador.
