by Clay Farrow
In the time it took him to clean her wound, Amanda regained enough of her composure to calmly tell her story, starting at Altun Ha and ending with her uncle's surprise appearance. Hilton quizzed the young girl about their kidnapping and escape, about who Rick, Miss Dennison, and Dr. Byers were, and about attacks by lions and elephants. She patiently answered Hilton's questions until he was satisfied he had the whole story. He grilled her about the number of men at the ranch and their weapons, which surprisingly tallied with the colonel's numbers. They went over the layout of the hacienda again and again, before he was convinced he had enough information to plan Monica's rescue.
"The one thing left to do," he said, "is to get close enough to the ranch house to find out exactly where your Aunt Monica is being held."
"Don't forget Miss Dennison."
"As far as I'm concerned, your Miss Dennison can rot in hell."
Amanda frowned and said, "I don't think Aunt Monica will go along with that."
"Your Aunt Monica will just have to deal with it."
"We'll see, but I-I-I-I don't think so."
Hilton observed Amanda with a pensive expression. He wrestled with the idea of taking her back to Belize before attempting to rescue Monica, but the drive would have him back after sunrise. The decision was made for him; the night was his ally. He reached over Amanda's shoulder to the backseat and popped open the suitcase. He dropped four M16 magazines on the backseat next to the loaded rifles, then closed the case.
"I don't like it, but I'm going to leave you here with the suitcase." He reached across her lap and picked up the Beretta.
She was already shaking her head.
"Amanda, it's too dangerous."
"No. Oh, no, you're not getting rid of me that easily. Now that I've found you, I'm staying with you. I can help."
Ignoring her, Hilton opened the rear door and pulled the suitcase out of the vehicle. He deposited the metal valise on the gravel at the side of the road. "The suitcase has $800,000 in it. If I'm not back in two hours, use what you need to get home. Take the pistol. If anyone gives you trouble, use it protect yourself. You know what to do."
Amanda was silent, but continued shaking her head.
Hilton pursed his lips. "Look, I have enough to worry about with your Aunt. Those men have guns."
He took her hand and gently tugged on it. Amanda resisted for a moment, then sullenly acquiesced to her uncle's tender persuasion. With her head bowed, she climbed out of the Navigator. Hilton picked up the suitcase and steered the young girl into the grass. Twenty feet off the highway, he set the suitcase on the ground. Cupping her chin, he raised her head until she was looking him straight in the eye.
"I want you to promise to stay here."
Her eyes were blazing as she tried to twist away. Hilton held her chin firmly. She avoided his look.
"Amanda?"
With a sullen look she nodded her head. As soon as he removed his hand, she dropped her head back down.
"Promise?"
Another curt nod. He sensed her defiance but had little choice. If he was going to rescue Monica, he had to get moving – with each passing minute daylight crept closer. Hugging the girl, he kissed her on the cheek.
"Good girl," he whispered.
Hilton jumped behind the wheel and glanced into the rearview mirror. She was standing exactly where he had left her, her head still down. A short distance down the highway, he drove round a bend and braked. He shut off the engine and folded his arms across his chest.
In less than three minutes Amanda came into view. Her back was to him as she struggled with the suitcase using both hands. Hilton stifled a curse as he leaned across the front seat and threw open the passenger door. He silently hiked back to her. She jumped when he reached around her and snatched the suitcase.
"Get in," he said, throwing the case into the cargo bay behind the rear seat. Her father used to drive him just as crazy, never listening to reason, ignoring the logic of his arguments.
"You're not very good at keeping promises, are you?"
"I had my fingers crossed," she replied, and climbed into the front seat with a smug smile. As Hilton got behind the wheel, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Don't you dare gloat," he growled, turning the key in the ignition. "Why didn't you leave the suitcase?"
"Are you nuts?" she exclaimed. "Would you or dad leave $800,000 lying at the side of the road for anyone to find?"
42:
Ranch de la Noche – Thursday
Alberto Guerra crouched by one of the hacienda's front windows. Next to him was Jeremiah Gantry. Both were armed with pistols. Lieutenant Diego and a soldier hunkered down at the window on the opposite side of the entrance with their weapons. The rest of the squad was spread out among the shrubs at the front of the house, ready to ambush Hastings.
"Anything yet?" Ken Byers asked as he ambled across the darkened reception hall and stood between the senator and Jeremiah.
Alberto pulled Ken to the side of the window. "Nothing, other than the faint honking that must have come from the highway."
"He should've been here by now."
"Maybe he got lost, you moron," Jeremiah spat.
"Jerry, I warned you," Alberto barked. He wasn't sure how much longer he could put up with these two bickering. The senator poked his chin in the direction of the courtyard, where a beam of light shone on the cobblestones. "Ken, if you want to be of some use, kill the light in the women's room."
"Why?"
Alberto didn't have a chance to reply. The silence was shattered by the sound of a piercing horn not too far away and coming closer.
"What the hell was that?" Ken asked, whirling about.
"It came from the back."
The five men hurried toward the terrace. Alberto reached the patio doors first and switched on the lights. Glancing to his left, he saw Fremont and Dennison framed in the upstairs bedroom window. They seemed to be completely mesmerized by whatever was happening in Miguel's zoo.
Alberto gazed intently at the bushes beyond the chain link fence. He couldn't see anything but heard branches snapping, the guttural roar of an engine, and the blaring of a car horn. In unison they raced for the fence.
They were almost level with the small palm grove in the center of the terrace when the front grill, wheels, and undercarriage of a monster SUV exploded out of the jungle like a soaring missile aimed at the enclosure's gates. The heavily tinted windshield made the vehicle look like a one-eyed monster rocketing out of the earth.
Alberto and his companions skidded to a stop. The SUV was four feet off the ground when it crashed into the double gates to the right of the lap pool. The impact ripped the gates from their hinges, creating a gaping hole in the fence.
* * * *
Hilton gripped the steering wheel of the Lincoln Navigator with one hand while the other kept the horn blasting. The front end dipped back to earth, touched down, and blasted off once more.
"Hold on tight, Amanda!"
Although Amanda Alderman was strapped into the passenger seat, she braced herself with one hand against the padded dash, while the other clung to the safety handle above the passenger door.
The Navigator bounced back to earth and screeched to a stop. The shrieking tires and the deafening sound of the horn were replaced by a high-pitched trumpeting. The ten-foot, twelve-thousand pound bull elephant the women had encountered earlier in the night, charged out the bushes.
Hilton quickly surveyed the courtyard to get his bearings. When viewed from inside the large Lincoln, the space to maneuver seemed much smaller than the impression he had formed during his earlier reconnaissance on foot.
"They're waving at us," Amanda yelled, pointing up at Monica and Liz standing in the middle of a bedroom window.
"Uncle Hilton," Amanda screamed. "The elephant is almost on top of us!"
He heard the hysteria in her voice and glanced into the rearview mirror. The old bull, an approaching train wreck with its eight-foo
t tusks, thundered onto the terrace. Hilton nailed the accelerator. The Navigator's engine snarled. All four tires squealed. Gaining traction, the vehicle shot straight ahead with smoke streaming off the tires. He cranked the wheel hard to the right to swing around the edge of the lap pool. The enraged animal followed.
Hilton saw a slight man standing next to Guerra raise his pistol and fire.
Amanda twisted in her seat and looked out the rear window. "The elephant's been hit in the shoulder. I can see some blood."
"Is it still coming after us?"
"No, it's going after them," Amanda said, clapping her hands.
With the elephant locked onto its new quarry, Hilton felt a momentary sense of elation. One of Guerra's men had panicked just as Hilton had anticipated. Single-handedly battling ten armed killers was a nonstarter. Amanda's reference to the suffering bull elephant had triggered an idea that had just paid off big time.
"Sick'em, big boy," he whooped.
Guerra and three of his companions fled back to the reception hall, while Ken raced for the closest open door.
Hilton steered close to the wall and parked directly beneath the bedroom window where the women were imprisoned. He released the electronic winch cable, then jumped out the SUV.
"Hilton, Amanda's missing. She's still somewhere in the jungle," Monica called out.
"She's with me," he yelled, lugging the winch cable as he crawled onto the hood of the vehicle. He scrambled onto the roof and reaching up, handed the cable to Monica.
"Hook it to the grill, then get back."
"Is she alright?" Monica asked, slipping the curved hook around the bars and fastening the clasp to the winch's steel cable.
"She's fine," he replied, leaping to the ground. He dove behind the wheel and hammered the gas. The Lincoln bounded forward and the cable was yanked taut. The Navigator strained against the unyielding grill.
"It's not working," Amanda cried. "You need more power."
Hilton nodded in satisfaction as the elephant lumbered up the steps to the foyer in pursuit of Guerra and his allies. Its trunk was raised above his head uttering a single discordant note of fury. Lowering its trunk, the elephant attempted to duck under the top of the door frame, but tripped.
The house shuddered as the huge beast crashed into the doorjamb. Its head and shoulders toppled into the foyer, sending the heavy mahogany double doors smashing into the wall.
His foot to the floor, Hilton pounded the steering wheel. Without warning, the grill broke free from the concrete wall and sailed in a wide arc toward the palm grove.
The SUV flew forward. Hilton stood on the brakes and brought the vehicle to a stop. The cable and grill wrapped around one of the trees in a tangled knot.
Hilton again backed the vehicle under the women's bedroom window. He scrambled out of the Navigator and onto the roof.
Holding his hand out to Monica, he said, "Hurry, we don't have much time."
Monica jumped from the window sill into Hilton's waiting arms. He kissed her quickly on the lips.
"Get in the back," he said, guiding her in the direction of the hood.
"Liz needs help. She's hurt."
"Forget about her."
"No, Hilton. I'm not going anywhere without her."
"We don't have time to argue," he said, throwing her over his shoulder. He jumped from the roof to the hood.
"We can't leave her," Monica wailed, wriggling and lashing out at Hilton with her fists. "She saved our lives."
"She's nothing to me," he said as he hit the cobblestones.
"Amanda, lock the doors."
Hilton couldn't believe his eyes. Amanda scrambled into the driver's seat and punched the universal lock on the door panel.
"Open the door. This no time for playing games."
"Listen to Aunt Monica."
He set Monica on the ground.
Monica wound up and slapped him hard on the cheek. "That's for not listening to me. For the past three years I've allowed you to make all the decisions for both of us. But things have changed. From now on all decisions are going to be made through consultation."
Hilton threw up his hands. "Alright, alright, but what do I have to do to get those damn doors open?"
"Get Liz."
"I hope you know what you're doing," he said and hopped onto the hood once again, then clambered to the roof.
Liz was seated on the window sill with her back to him. She pivoted on her butt and pushed off from the window sill for the short fall into his arms.
Hilton cast a glance over his shoulder. Alberto and his companions were advancing on the elephant. The pachyderm wrapped its trunk around the leg of the nearest chair and effortlessly hurled it at them.
"Scatter," Alberto cried as the heavy piece of furniture bounced across the ceramic floor.
The elephant roused itself and struggled to remove its head and shoulders from the doorway.
"Get the rear door," Hilton ordered as he vaulted to the ground with Liz in his arms.
Monica yanked open the door. She threw the M16s, lying on the backseat, against the far door and slithered across the leather upholstery after them. Hilton dumped Liz on the seat beside Monica, then jumped behind the wheel.
"Buckle up," he panted, "we're in for a rough ride."
Hilton looked over his shoulder at the gate. What's the best way out of here, he wondered. Scanning the courtyard, he saw Ken poke his head out of his hideaway.
Hilton flicked the switch to reel in the cable and hit the gas. The Navigator skidded away from the wall in a wild S pattern, forcing Ken to retreat or risk being run down. Ramming the gearshift into reverse, he set the 4x4's wheels spinning. The Lincoln was jerked to a sudden stop.
"The cable is caught up," Monica yelled. Discarding her seat belt, she hurtled out of the vehicle with an M16. She jacked a round into the rifle's chamber and ran to the front of the SUV. She sprayed the wire tether with a short burst of gunfire and severed the cable, then headed back to the Navigator as Ken emerged from hiding. Behind him, the elephant lumbered to his feet bellowing.
"Watch out, Aunt Monica!" Amanda shouted, leaping out of the Lincoln.
Hilton stared at her. What the hell was she doing? As his gaze followed her, he answered his own question.
Ken had grabbed Monica around the waist, pinning her arms to her side, and was dragging her back to his lair. The M16 lay on the ground. Amanda ran at the scuffling couple. She walloped Ken with a pile-driver punch to the chin. He stumbled back in a daze and let go of Monica, who scrambled to retrieve the rifle. Then the two women ran to the Navigator and jumped in, slamming the doors behind then.
The elephant picked its way down the steps snorting, and clumsily rambled toward Ken and the Lincoln.
"Everyone okay?" Hilton asked, looking at Monica and Amanda.
They nodded.
"Hang on." Out of the corner of his eye, Hilton saw Ken staggering toward them. He dismissed the scientist from his mind and concentrated on negotiating the large vehicle around the lap pool.
The Navigator raced backwards parallel to the pool in the direction of the gate. At the last moment, Hilton whipped the wheel to the right, to back the SUV around the tight turn at the end of the lap pool, and aim it at the open gate. Speed and limited space conspired to override any margin for error he had built into the turn.
"Uncle Hilton!" Amanda shrieked.
The right front wheel dropped over the edge of the pool. The frame crashed onto the cobblestones. The vehicle stopped dead, while the right front tire spun helplessly in the water.
Hilton was thrown into the steering wheel.
Ken was rapidly narrowing the distance to the Navigator.
Shaking off his wooziness, Hilton gunned the vehicle in the hope that the three tires on solid ground would provide enough speed and propulsion to force the snagged wheel out of the pool. Sparks flew as the SUV undercarriage slowly ground along the edge of the pool.
Ken hopped onto the hood of the retreating ve
hicle and clung to the lip of the windshield wiper housing. "You can't leave me, I need the formula."
The great bull lumbered towards the Lincoln.
The front wheel collided with the far wall of the pool. The tires on solid ground burned black smoke. The engine whined as the front tire began to climb the wall.
"We just might do this," Hilton shouted.
In seconds, his jubilation turned to despair as the wheels lost traction and the frame settled back onto the edge of the pool.
Ken began to slide off the hood. Hilton looked on in horror as the elephant wrapped its trunk around Ken's ankle, then lifted him feet first into the air.
The giant beast swung Ken above his head like a cowboy with a lasso.
"Do something," Ken screamed, his arms flailing.
The animal released him and he flew headfirst toward the nearby stucco wall. His head smashed into the wall with the hollow thud of an exploding watermelon. He fell to the cobblestones and remained still.
The elephant charged the Lincoln with his head down, its tusks sliding under the front bumper. The huge beast butted the grill and lifted its head. The right front tire rose above the edge of the pool.
The elephant was pushing the Navigator backwards. Hilton gripped the wheel and slammed the accelerator to the floor. With the tires squealing, the vehicle catapulted off the tips of the elephant's tusks and careened backwards through the open gate.
Once in the meadow, Hilton swung the vehicle in a one eighty. Then he raced the Lincoln east toward the first rays of the morning sun and freedom in Belize.
43:
Caribbean Breezes Resort, Cay Caulker – Saturday
Monica Fremont ducked under a large palm branch. Liz followed as they walked out of the resort's laundry to the prefab building that served as Monica's artifact warehouse, rudimentary museum, and workshop. Each carried a small wire cage containing a guinea pig.
