A woman gasped. "Did you say Pierce Neumann is the leader of this squad? In that case, I think we are on a mission to save the world."
"How you exaggerate, Daphne. It's Pierce all right, but we are not on some mission to save the world from aliens."
Silence fell inside the cargo area as the aircraft soared through the skies.
Hakeem broke the ice. "You know it isn't so easy being different, especially with my background. It's almost like you have the word lethal written in neon across your forehead. Everywhere I go, I see people get uncomfortable when I walk in. I have been walked out of restaurants not because I cannot afford the meals but because, for inexplicable reasons, it was not a good idea for me to be in a crowded place."
Hakeem shut his eyes as the sad memories resurfaced.
"Restaurants were not the only place I saw something like that. It gets worse at the airports. It's always like people judge you for showing up and think you're endangering their lives. The look in their eyes always says, 'how dare you to come here posing a threat to us?' The double searches and extra security checks."
"One time," he continued, "on a flight to New York, I was asked to disembark because another passenger was having a panic attack because I was on board. I missed that flight and was so disconcerted that I went home instead.
"There are good people and bad people across every race and geographical area—just as we are all different yet alike in so many ways. Today, we are on a team pushing for one cause irrespective of our different backgrounds. Irrespective of our past, present, or future. Thank you."
"Wow, wow!" Daphne applauded, and the others cheered Hakeem.
"Okay, everyone, I'm Daphne, and I'm a bombshell."
"How does that help us get over obstacles?" another man asked.
"You detonate bombs. They explode and ruin everything," Daphne joked.
Everyone burst into laughter.
"Hola," a deep voice called out.
"Me llamo Nicholas."
Everyone turned towards the voice. It sounded bigger than the vessel it came out from. Seated on the fourth row was a dwarf. A smile broke across his handsome face as he waved hello at the others. His confidence and friendliness were infectious, and the others couldn't help themselves from smiling back, although some wondered why he was on the team with them.
Next was the French archeologist and historian Jacques, who sat beside Nicholas. He hurried over his introduction like some tedious chore and spent the next ten minutes wondering why more than half of the team has never heard about him before. When he had quit moaning, he turned to Nicholas, and the two were soon engaged in an earnest discussion about Spanish history.
Miles was backed up by a fourteen-man team that included eight seasoned miners who had spent a more significant part of their career digging out jewels from depths unimaginable. They had traveled thousands of kilometers across continents and hundreds of miles into the belly of the earth to recover.
One of them was Jasper, a renowned weightlifter who turned his hobby of pulling trucks strapped to his shoulder into a career before he put his strength to good use hauling jewels from underneath the earth. He stood at an intimidating six-foot-ten and wore a scowl that could make lesser men quake.
Daphne might be beautiful, but Rhoda was stunning. She was partly distracted by a woman who sat beside her. She looked pale and tired, which made Rhoda wonder why she was on board. Rhoda's trained eyes noticed the woman's dilated pupils and listlessness.
Zoe had noticed Rhoda's unflinching gaze at her, and it made her feel a little uncomfortable and self-conscious as she used the paper bag again. She had always avoided long-distance trips as much as possible due to the discomfort. She had almost backed out when the opportunity to join Miles's team came up. At the last minute, she had determined her discomfort wouldn't get in her way, and she gladly signed up.
"I've got motion sickness," Zoë said to Rhoda. "It snuffs the fun out of the whole experience." She smiled nervously.
Rhoda nodded and rested her head on her seat for a much-needed nap.
While the others napped or chatted, Miles went over to the cockpit to talk to the captain. The truth was that he wanted to see the technology that kept the globe master in the air. He had been curious from first sight but had decided to wait until the right time.
When Miles walked into the cockpit, he was amazed by the digital avionic system that flew the plane. It was so smooth, anyone could fly the aircraft with a flick of their wrist. Harry sure knew how to pick his toys.
The view from the flight deck windshield was so calm and beautiful. Miles could see the lights from a distant city as dusk quickly set in. In less than two hours, they would be flying over remote skies, and it was up to fate to decide what welcome they would get.
Miles noticed the aircraft plunged into a descent, and he wondered why. "Why are we flying so low?" Miles asked.
"To avoid the radar," the captain responded. "We're in hostile territory, and any craft flying at a certain altitude is immediately seen as a threat and treated as one before asking questions."
Miles figured out he had better get his team ready. They would have to take a long leap if it came to that.
"Okay, guys," Miles called out when he returned to his cabin. "You can start the deep breathing now. We are jumping out of this plane HAHO style in half an hour."
"I was hoping it wouldn't get to that," Daphne replied. She gave a small laugh to hide her nervousness.
Everyone got into their gear as they prepared for the airdrop. Miles filled them in with the details before he made last-minute checks. Soon the captain announced they were ready to airdrop.
"Guys, we have to move," Miles said as he made for the rear exit. The latch opened automatically, and the chill wind came rushing into the cabin.
"Here we go, guys!" Miles yelled. "Move, move!" He motioned everyone out of their seats.
Hakeem was the first to jump, soon followed by Jasper. Jacques was nervous, although he did his best to hide it.
"This is going to be a long drop!" He shouted in halting English. Miles couldn't hear him over the rushing wind, so he drew closer.
"You aren't even ready to jump!" Miles shouted back.
Jacques shrugged helplessly, but Miles pointed to the wrongly stripped gears.
"A long drop, indeed," Miles said as he showed Jacques how to strap his chute correctly.
"Okay, Jacques, it's time to take that leap." Miles gave Jacques a gentle push, and they could hear him screaming as he fell through the skies.
Rhoda was the last to jump before Miles; this had always been the part she dreaded, but she had come a long way to back out now. Midway through her drop, she noticed someone below her was yet to open his chute, and it was Ian, the young geologist. She became alarmed as there was no sign of movement. The temperature was almost freezing up there, and the low pressure could do damage to anyone. She yelled at the others who had landed, but the rush of the wind carried away her voice.
Then Nicholas looked up, and he was saying something to Jacques as he pointed into the dark sky. The group quickly swung into action. "What on Earth is going on? Oh my goodness, his chute is still unopened, and he isn't even trying. Please wait a minute…and he looks like he's not moving at all!"
"Hey, everyone, get your chutes over here quickly. I think we've got someone with a faulty chute." Jasper alerted the others.
"Oh, no!" Daphne cried.
"Shhh, will you keep it low?" Wayne retorted.
Jasper dragged the parachutes and stacked them on top of each other to create a landing cushion for their incapacitated comrade.
"Maybe we should move it a few inches to the right, quickly. The wind seems to be pushing him that way," Hakeem noticed.
Jasper hoisted the chutes again. Hakeem was right. Had they waited a few more seconds to move the cushion, Fred would have fallen to his death just a meter to the right. Although they succeeded in breaking the fall, the young geologist was already convulsing.
"Oh no, he's dying, "Daphne whispered in shock.
Hakeem hurried over to Ian. He tried to turn him over on his stomach.
"No, don't do that." Jasper stopped him. "There might be some broken bones from the fall, and you could make it worse by moving him."
Rhoda landed forty-five seconds after the geologist. She was tangled in her chute, and it took her some time to get out of its tangled mess.
"Is everything okay?" she asked as she moved closer to the man who was convulsing uncontrollably on the ground. "Please move aside, don't crowd him in. He's having a seizure."
Rhoda unbuttoned the man's jacket and unbuckled his belt, then she took off her coat and made a cushion that she put under the man's head. Then she cleared away some rocks around him.
Everyone watched in silence as the seizures reduced, and he lay there unconscious.
"He'll be fine. He has epilepsy," Rhoda said as she rose to her feet. She heard someone throwing up into a nearby bush. It was the pale-looking woman who sat beside her during the flight. She went to her to see what was wrong.
"It isn't the air sickness now, is it?" Rhoda observed.
"I'm fine," the woman replied in a shaky voice.
"I'm Dr. Rhoda, and your symptoms are screaming all over you."
The woman's eyes widened with surprise. "I'm Z-Zoe," she stuttered.
"Maybe you should find some crackers, Zoe."
"I'm not pregnant!" Zoe blurted in a desperate voice.
"You don't have to tell me what I already know. What I don't know is why you came on a dangerous mission, anyways."
"It's all about the money. I could do with a few extra thousands." Zoe shrugged.
"Dr. Rhoda?" Miles called quietly as he made his way to the women.
"You are a doctor?" Zoe asked Rhoda in surprise.
"Yes," Rhoda replied, and walked away to meet Miles.
"How bad is it?" Miles pointed to Ian, who was still unconscious.
"He has epilepsy, and you shouldn't have brought him along."
"Wait, what?" Miles asked. "But... Never mind."
Miles beckoned to the others to come closer. Having a team member who had such a severe medical condition impeded their plans. At the moment, getting to a hospital or sending him back through the Globemaster was only wishful thinking. And they couldn't carry him on their shoulders through the hostile jungle.
"Listen up, everyone. We will camp here for a few hours. Hakeem, myself, and two other team members will scout the area while the rest of you set up camp. Jasper will be on the lookout, and he'll choose someone to watch with him."
"You didn't tell him, did you?" Zoe whispered to Rhoda.
"It won't be long now. You'd better tell him yourself," she replied.
Miles moved out with the men he had picked to scout the area. The terrain was a little bit tricky to navigate, but they pressed on stealthily. They had walked a few kilometers before they came upon a small clearing in the woods. They found a small farm truck with the engine still running, standing close to the woods.
"Be careful, boys," Miles whispered to the others as they waited for anyone to come out of the vehicle.
Not too far from where the truck stood was a farmhouse. They couldn't see everything that was going on from their position, but the front door was strangely open with the lights on. That was the only part of the house that seemed to have the lights on, there was no light behind any of the windows, and all was calm.
"We can't wait here all night. I'll go check it out," Miles said as he stole through the thick shrubs.
The men noticed the truck faced an exit to lead up to a different road on getting closer. There were skid marks on the ground, which showed that the car was in a hurry to leave. A few bags were at the back, and a dead dog lay close to one of the wheels. It must have been run over by the truck in its haste to exit.
A whimper came from inside the truck, and the startled men exchanged nervous glances. Carefully, they approached the driver's side of the car, where they found a white male in his forties profusely bleeding from a deep gash in his left shoulder.
Without asking any questions, Miles deftly cleaned and tied up his wound. The man had lost quite a kitty of blood and was unable to speak for a while. When he finally did, he could barely manage a whisper.
"It's not safe out there," he said weakly. "The tribe, at war, fight while...." His voice trailed off.
9
Chapter Nine
St. Christopher's Dome
The large hall glowed in the dark as the rays of the full moon shining through the high windows bounced off the golden surfaces of the goblets that decorated the altar. The windows were too high for anyone to see the hall from the outside unless they wanted to go up a steeplejack. The hall had no doors either; a rope was carefully concealed behind one of the pillars that held the roof. Going up and down this rope was the only way to enter or exit the hall. For decades, many secret meetings to plot the rise of the favored or the downfall of the despised were held in this hall by the top echelon members of the knighthood.
The altar was decked in gold and covered in jade, ruby, and emerald stones glittered in the moon rays. Some Roman inscriptions were made around it in gold, and in the middle of the altar was a large golden ball dotted with tiny rare gems.
The five knights dressed in robes of woven gold stood around the golden altar in deep meditation and sipped from the golden goblets at regular intervals. Occasionally, they would open their eyes simultaneously and stare off into space.
"Late. As usual," the sixth member apologized as he joined the others. "The Pope himself was in town." He picked up a goblet and sipped from it.
"It's a field day for the sycophants, I presume," the second knight retorted.
"We finally have news from the mole after a long silence. Tonight, we learn that they have become curious and uncomfortably close," the third knight said with a sneer.
___________
"Is anyone else with you?" Miles asked the farmer. But he was too weak to respond. More blood seeped through the wound on his arm and dampened the bandage.
"I think we have to take him back to the others. Maybe the doctor should take a look at that wound," Gary suggested.
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Kevin asked. "How do we know he's telling us the truth? What if he's the bait, or even worse, the attacker? Right, boss?"
Miles said nothing; he simply looked around for something to make a firmer bandage. He found overalls in the back seat and tore them into shreds, using the pieces to wrap up the injured shoulder.
"Kevin, you and Hakeem go around to the back. I noticed some supplies back there. I guess the farmer was trying to escape, but he didn't get out quickly enough. Grab all you can stuff in your backpacks, and between us, we will carry him back to the camp," Miles instructed.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kevin questioned. "This isn't part of what we came out here for? We've done enough to help him already. Someone will find him soon and take him to a hospital."
"Yeah, you're right. Someone'll find him dead soon," Gary retorted.
"C'mon Gary, give me a hand. The others can join us as soon as they've picked up some supplies," Miles said as he lifted the injured man out of the truck.
The men lifted the farmer between themselves and retreated into the woods. The journey back was more complex and longer than the first because they had to move slowly to prevent the farmer from bleeding.
In between gasps of pain and breathlessness, the farmer told Miles and the others how a dispute over the price of produce had escalated into an attack between the foreign farmers and the locals. The farmers had used the lands for several years to raise livestock and crops, which they sold to the food merchants from the cities.
With the increased demand, some of the prominent locals who appreciated the use of technology in farming saw a promising market came together and made a pact with the foreign farmers. They let out their lands and the lands from more impoveri
shed locals, and everyone was content with the crop sharing and proceeds until someone started asking for more.
One of the prominent locals claimed monopoly, and with his influence, he almost pushed the farmers to the point of bankruptcy. When the farmers complained about him, he turned the locals against the farmers, resulting in a bloodbath.
By the time they arrived at the camp, the farmer was already feeling very faint. Everyone gathered around Miles and the others who trudged in with the wounded man.
"Oh my god!" Daphne exclaimed when she saw Miles covered in blood. He had been carrying the farmer on his back shortly before they arrived at the camp, and he was drenched in the blood that seeped out from his wound.
"What happened?" Ian asked. "Did you kill someone?"
"You're up, pal," Gary said breathlessly under a smile.
"Yes, I…" Ian started.
"Quickly, follow me!" Rhoda called out to Gary. "Oh no, he's so pale."
"What happened?" Nicholas asked Miles.
"There'd been a fight out there. We have to be on guard and stick to the plan," Miles replied.
"Robert, you and Jody go at once and join Jasper, and I think the crew out there could do with some more eyes. The rest of us remember the plan and stick to it."
"Do you think they might follow your trail to the camp?" Jacques asked.
"I doubt anyone would be wandering this far by this time of the night, but we can't be too careful."
Everyone kept guard for the next few hours as the night got colder and darker. Rhoda stepped outside for some air after working several hours to save the farmer's life. It was not as bad as it had looked, but he lost quite a lot of blood, and it would take a few days for him to get back on his feet. Jacques, Daphne, Nicholas, and the others were huddled in their sleeping bags around the fire.
Miles sat on a log in the shadows and stared at the moon. It was merely a crescent and gave out very little light. His watch said 1 a.m.; it was way too early for anyone from the villages to attack. Perhaps he should call off the sentry, and they could get a few hours' sleep. They had to move well before dawn to avoid crossing paths with the angry locals.
The Lost Treasure of the Aztec Kings Page 8
