Legend: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  The ancient stone supporting Supay started to crumble from the wash of water. It was Carl who heard the first loud crack and rumble as part of the left leg of the great statue gave way and fell into the swirling water.

  “Oh great, come on, come on,” he said as they shoved harder.

  “Damn!” Jack shouted as he stopped shoving suddenly and started pulling.

  “What are you doing, Major?” Farbeaux cried as he tried to restrain Jack.

  The major didn’t answer, and finally pulled the case free. As it hit the water, another loud crack was sounded inside the chamber as the entire left leg of Supay crumbled into the race of water. Teacher was floating on a prayer as her forward spaces took on more and more water. Sarah screamed. The giant statue had started to fall backward toward the canal.

  “Oh, this isn’t happening,” Carl called out as he saw what was going to be the result.

  The statue hit the water with the force of an exploding fifteen-inch naval gun. Teacher, along with the four people, was pushed farther into the interior of El Dorado. Then Supay did what Carl had hoped it wouldn’t. It plugged the opening to the falls like a cork in a bottle. Once the great stone statue had settled, wedged into the canal, the water started rising at a tremendous rate.

  Jack had lost Sarah when Teacher had been picked up by the crashing wave, and Carl was no longer with him and Farbeaux. He could only hope they hadn’t been crushed by the boat’s heavy hull. Instead of worrying about it, he grabbed the case he had hung on to for dear life and snapped open the latches. He opened the container and he saw they had three minutes left. He removed the weapon from the case and not too gently tossed it into the damaged space in Teacher’s engineering compartment.

  “Damn, why didn’t I think of taking it out of the case!” said the Frenchman.

  Jack didn’t hear the question as he quickly swam into the opening and disappeared. Farbeaux quickly followed.

  Outside the hull, Sarah finally surfaced after being pummeled by the wave left in Supay’s wake. She bumped into Carl as he, too, surfaced not two feet from her. They both swam for the stern of Teacher, which had begun to stick up in the air. She was going down by the bow at a fast rate of speed. Carl got to the opening first, and reached up and grabbed on. He tried in vain to pull himself up but the part of the composite hull he was hanging on to gave way and he went back down into the water, narrowly missing Sarah.

  “Forget it, her ass is riding too high,” he shouted over the roar of the water. The chamber was filling quickly. “Jack, we’re losing her!” Carl just hoped the major heard him.

  Inside Teacher, Jack was not only fighting with the bomb to get it inside the now-dangling Turtle, he was fighting with Teacher herself as gravity started to take effect. The boat now started to go down by the nose.

  “Hold the canopy up, Colonel,” Jack shouted.

  Farbeaux grabbed the Plexiglas canopy and held it in place as Jack fitted the stainless-steel weapon into the front seat. The major then pulled himself toward the back, reached into the cockpit, and gave a quick prayer that the electrical system hadn’t shorted out. He flipped the switch and was rewarded with the control lights coming on like a Christmas tree. He didn’t hesitate as he reached for the keyboard on the small computer set deep inside the panel. He quickly switched on the autopilot, activated the computer, and tapped in a depth of ten feet, which was what he estimated the cave opening to now be under water by. When he was prompted, he set a speed of forty-five knots, the maximum speed of the small craft. He ignored the computer prompts for oxygen output and other nonessentials. A warning flashed that told him at the speed setting he had selected the maximum amount of dive time was only three minutes. He ignored that, as well, and programmed his course, praying that he had the setting right or the damned thing would come back on them. He closed the canopy and it snapped shut.

  “Carl!”

  “Yeah,” the lieutenant commander answered from outside.

  “This thing’s going to fall free; make sure her nose is pointed in the right direction when she hits the water.”

  Jack didn’t wait for an answer as he reached over and hit Turtle’s cradle release. As he did so, the doors beneath it swung open with an explosive sound. When Turtle was released, the men cringed as its angle smashed the small craft into the opening on her way out of Teacher. Jack and Farbeaux sighed with relief as the sub cleared the doors.

  “We’d better go, Colonel.”

  “I agree,” was all the Frenchman said in answer as he quickly swam for the hole in Teacher’s hull.

  Turtle hit the water, almost decapitating Sarah as its high-speed jets started up before it hit the water. Carl braved death by reaching out and pushing Turtle’s nose toward the canal and the spot where the inner cave had been before it had gone under. The water jets pushed against the water and Turtle shot outward toward what looked like a solid rock wall. Then it slowly went beneath the surface.

  “Okay, let’s swim for it,” Carl shouted at Sarah just as Jack and Farbeaux surfaced beside them.

  As one, they broke for the Supay statue that had totally clogged the opening. They dove deeply. Farbeaux was the first to see the small gap where Supay’s pointed ear lay against the stone opening. There was a gap of about two and a half feet. He just hoped they had the time to squeeze through.

  Meanwhile, Turtle hurtled through the cave’s opening. The setting for her depth had been miscalculated; the canopy struck the top of the mouth of the cave and cracked. As water started to seep in, the aroma of electrical ozone and smoke began to fill the unoccupied compartment of Turtle. The sub entered the canal system and started to climb.

  Farbeaux surfaced first and looked around for the others. Sarah popped up, and then Carl.

  Jack felt himself grabbed from below and pushed upward. He was grateful for the help as he started to rise. When he broke free to the surface of the lagoon he looked over and had to smile as Will Mendenhall came up next to him, sputtering and spitting out water.

  “Good to see you, Lieutenant,” Jack said.

  “Saw you were a little slow coming up there, Major.”

  The new second lieutenant had just reached the level of the lagoon after climbing down from the cliff face, when he saw the others come to the surface but not Jack. He dove in after him.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  Just as Jack said the words, a deep rumbling sounded from all directions. High up where the falls originated, a massive waterspout shot straight up into the air and then the side of the cliff face exploded outward. All the survivors still in the water ducked under, in the hope that the tremendous quantity of debris would somehow miss them. Jack stayed afloat as missiles shot in all directions, but he just had to see, to make sure. He felt Farbeaux next to him.

  As they watched, the giant Incan pyramid of El Dorado began to collapse from the inside. The falls, mountainside, and cliff face started to fall inward as the thermonuclear weapon melted stone from within. The weakened stone walls dissolved under the massive attack of gamma rays and fell in.

  The witnesses to the death of the legendary El Dorado would never forget how the mine died with an ear-shattering bellow, as the entire northern end of the lagoon collapsed in on itself. The bomb took down a pyramid that had been constructed by ancient man to withstand a tremendous force equal to up to ten tons of TNT.

  Farbeaux looked at Jack and not a word was uttered. The Frenchman raised his hand in a halfhearted salute, then turned and swam away. The major watched him go, more confused than ever about the Event Group’s most-feared adversary.

  “We let him go, Jack.”

  Collins turned toward Carl, Mendenhall, and Sarah, who were treading water close by.

  “This time, he earned it. We’ll see him again.”

  Carl was about to say something when a new sound entered his ears. They turned as one to see a most welcome sight.

  It was large and looked like the boat they had seen the day the marines had dro
pped them off at the tributary, which seemed like years ago now. The men who now lined the rails were beginning to pull the survivors of Teacher and the Zachary expedition from the lagoon. At the bow, a large, heavy-set man in a filthy white shirt, and with a thick five- or six-day growth of beard, stood with a leg propped up on the gunwale. Even from their poor vantage point they could see he was looking straight at them. Jack, Mendenhall, Everett, and Sarah started to swim toward the oncoming boat.

  As the boat’s engine chugged to a stop only feet from the four swimmers, the man at the bow smiled and removed his cigar.

  “You are in distress, gentlemen, oh, and lady?” he asked, a smile evident on his dark features.

  Jack spit out a mouthful of water. “Nah, just …” He stopped. He didn’t feel like joking; he was beat and worried about his people. He remembered this man’s picture from the list of qualified river captains he had originally gazed over, back at the Group complex. He knew what to call him because most of the captains on the list had the same last name. “Captain Santos, isn’t it?”

  “Sí, Capitán Ernesto Santos at your service,” he said as he replaced the cigar in his mouth and half bowed toward the four floating Americans.

  “Pull us up, Captain, and let’s talk business,” Jack said as he swam the last few feet to the boat and helped the others secure the dangling cargo net.

  Farbeaux gingerly pulled himself out of the water and looked back at the spot where the students and event personnel were being rescued.

  The Frenchman saw large bubbles as something swam toward shore and then quickly turned away. He watched as the bubbles diminished. Whatever it was turned around and swam back toward the center of the lagoon, then Farbeaux wanted to look no more. He weighed his options as he watched Santos and his men start picking up the Americans. He decided he and Danielle would take their chances in the forest after the rapids.

  As he started to turn away, he saw something floating at the lagoon’s edge. He blinked when he recognized what it was. His vision blurred as his heart sank at the sight. He stepped to the water’s edge and pulled out the satchel he had strapped onto Danielle. He turned the weightless bag over. His eyes widened when he saw the claw marks that had shredded the thick material. He touched the edges and saw that the marks had wicked up fresh blood. He slowly let the empty satchel fall from his hands as he went to his knees in the fine sand of the lagoon’s bank.

  He stayed that way, kneeling and looking at the water, for many moments, beating himself. His wife had been killed. Why had he helped the Americans? He closed his eyes and then looked at the now-collapsed El Dorado. Then his eyes went to the Rio Madonna as it picked out the last of the survivors. His eyes narrowed as they focused on the last man pulled out. Jack Collins.

  At that moment, the mind of Henri Farbeaux snapped as he took in Collins. He no longer blamed himself for his momentary burst of generosity that had cost his dear wife’s life. The person responsible was right there in front of him. Major Jack Collins.

  Farbeaux slowly stood and turned toward the jungle. He started walking. Walking and thinking of how he was going to get even with the people who had fooled him into thinking he was human.

  Colonel Henri Farbeaux walked into the jungle where he would be as one with the other animals, because that was what he had become in his instantaneous insanity. An animal.

  Jack was the last to be manhandled off the cargo net as Captain Santos ordered the Rio Madonna to the opposite shore. Sarah, Carl, and Mendenhall were safe among the others. The students all looked his way in silent thanks; that was as much as their sorrow and fatigue would allow them. They knew it had been the four people before them who had saved everyone from being stranded in the mine just as Helen Zachary and a lot of their friends had been.

  The major now located Virginia—and a scowling master chief, sitting by the wheelhouse in silence. Then he reached out to Sarah and half smiled as he took her hand.

  “I didn’t exactly get them all out, did I …” he began.

  Sarah turned on him and looked him right in the eye. “Don’t even start with that crap, Jack. You did all you could; the result is right before your eyes. Ten kids will see home again because of you.”

  Just beyond her, Carl nodded his head, agreeing with Sarah.

  Jack, Sarah, Virginia, and Carl stood at the bow and looked at the falls, which had been reduced to only sixty feet from their tumble to the lagoon. Three hundred feet of mountaintop had collapsed in on El Dorado, enough tonnage to keep the plutonium and gold away from the hands of man for many decades.

  The lagoon itself was silent again as life sounds returned to the rain forest around them.

  “I guess Farbeaux would have made off with enough uranium to guarantee we would all be scared to death for the next fifty years,” Virginia said, as the captain of Rio Madonna gave orders for getting under way.

  “No, his plan would have ended right here,” Jack said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, as Santos turned and smiled at the gathered Americans, his cigar freshly lit.

  “Our friend here,” said Jack, nodding toward Captain Santos, “would have killed anyone involved with the mine as soon as they returned to his boat. Hell, he may still be planning to kill everyone.”

  Sarah didn’t follow this. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because it’s his job,” Jack answered, staring at Santos. “Captain, would you mind joining us, please?”

  Santos stepped over and removed his cigar from his mouth. “Sí, señor? ”

  “Captain, you can knock off the peasant act now and show these ladies your jewelry,” Jack said, smiling.

  “Act? No, señor, I am a peasant of the river,” he said as he reached into his shirt and drew out his necklace. He kissed the object on it, as he always did. Then he smiled and held it out so the two women could see his proudest possession.

  “A papal medal of the Order of St. Patrick,” Virginia said, astonished.

  “Sí, it has been mine for twenty-three years. Starting with my ancestors many years ago; our passion for the pope has continued through my bloodline. It has been our responsibility to ensure that the world shall never benefit from Padilla’s discoveries. To make sure no one ever goes beyond the borders of the river and her surrounding sisters,” he said as he dropped the medal back into his sweat-stained shirt, then he struck a match to his dead cigar. “My pleasure in life has been safeguarding Eden from men and women such as …”

  “Us,” Sarah said, comprehending at last.

  Santos smiled as his cigar glowed to life. “Sí, señora, people such as you.”

  “Captain Santos and his family were listed by Europa as having been awarded the first medals back in 1865, your great-great-grandfather, I believe,” Jack said as he remembered the papal medalist list he had studied after Niles had hit on Keogh’s name in Virginia.

  “Sí, this is true. You are surely a man with great knowledge, and I must assume you would not be easily disposed of, señor?”

  “No need; we are going to make sure El Dorado remains just a myth, a place where legends go to die,” Jack said, looking the captain straight in the eye.

  Santos didn’t say anything, but just nodded and puffed on his cigar. Then he briefly looked toward the collapsed mine that was hidden behind the waterfalls. The waters allowed only wisps of smoke to escape from the devastation inside.

  “It must get tiresome out here all alone,” Virginia said.

  Santos laughed heartily as the Rio Madonna’s engines came to life and the old boat made for the far shoreline. “Alone? No, I have my loyal crew and all of this,” he said. He looked up into the bridge and gave an up-and-down motion with his fist. The boat’s whistle sounded loudly in the silence of the valley.

  Santos laughed as he looked up along the lip of the extinct volcano. Then Jack and the others heard chanting, almost a gentle song as sung by hundreds of people. They looked at the spot Santos was indicating and saw that the edge of the caldera was
lined with Sincaro who stood watching the boat as it chugged its way out of the center of the lagoon.

  Professor Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III broke away from the other survivors and held a hand to his bandaged head when he saw the ancient people of this lost valley. He began to cry for Professor Keating, who had died before he could see the prehistoric success story now unfolding before them. The Sincaro had taken everything the outside world could throw at them, be they Inca, Spanish, or modern man, and it was they who God allowed the sole ownership of Eden.

  “It is a hard life, but my friends up there and not El Dorado is why we have always done this service for our pope. Not gold, not strange minerals.” He turned and looked at the major. “This place is truly Eden, but it does have a few snakes that will protect it at all costs.”

  A large group of Sincaro watched from the sandy beach as the Rio Madonna dropped anchor on the eastern shore of the lagoon. Santos hummed the very tune of the Sincaro as he stepped to the gunwale. He gestured for Jack, Carl, Sarah, and Mendenhall to join him.

  “I have it in my power to kill all of you. It is within my right to do so,” he slowly explained without one iota of accent to his English. He turned away from the shore and the jungle beyond, to address the Americans, his face a death mask of seriousness. Then he smiled a sad sort of smile, replaced his cigar in the corner of his mouth, and tilted his filthy saucer cap back on his black hair. “But I think you have acted honorably in this place, as others have not. Those that have not are now a part of the legend of the valley, sí ?”

  “Yes,” Jack answered as he heard noise coming from the bush.

  “Good. Now, I think you may have lost something of yours in the jungle, señor. You may have them back. My friends the Sincaro are quite finished with them.”

  As Jack and the others followed his eyes to the shore of the lagoon, the bushes parted and an even larger party of Sincaro came forward, marching in a straight line. Jack smiled when he saw who they had in tow, tied with hands behind his back and strung along like a dog on a leash, but very much unharmed.