Clive Cussler - The Mayan Secrets

Ruiz read on into the bullhorn. “You will all sign a paper, accepting the offer of relocation, housing, and a job. Doing so will end any claim you might have to land in or around the town of Santa Maria de los Montañas.”

Russell jumped down from the truck, holding a paper. He went to old Carlos Padilla, pulled a pen from his pocket, and held it out to the old man. “Here. You can be the first to sign.”

“He’s trying to get the mayor to sign,” Remi whispered.

The answer was loud. “I would rather die than sign that.”

One of the men from the truck waved his arm, and four men rushed the mayor. They slipped a loop of rope over him and tightened it under his arms, threw the end of the rope over a large limb of a tree beside the road, hoisted him up, and tied it so he hung there.

“No!” Remi whispered. “No!”

Sam said, “What are they doing?”

The man who had waved his arm took out a pistol and fired a round through the mayor’s head. All of the witnesses, including Remi, groaned in horror.

Sam said, “What was that shot?”

“They killed the mayor.”

Ruiz spoke into the bullhorn. “Let no one move his body from this spot. We will come back in five days. If he’s not here then, we’ll hang five others up there in his place. If this paper is not signed by every one of you, we will put ten who have not signed up there and ask again.”

“Did you understand that?” Remi whispered to Sam.

“I’m afraid I did.”

Russell stepped to the nearest building, which was the church. He nailed the papers to the front door. Then he and the other men climbed back into the truck. They turned around in the space in front of the church and drove back to the crest of the hill and began to coast down the long road in the direction of the Estancia.

The wails of women began immediately and soon reached the window of Sam and Remi’s cell. Remi said, “They’re gone.” She jumped to the floor.

A half hour later, they heard footsteps in the outer office. The plank door opened and several people filed in — Señora Velasquez; Father Gomez; Dr. Huerta; Pepe, the mechanic; Señor Alvarez, the restaurant owner; and the two farmers who had volunteered to dig their graves. Father Gomez said, “Do you know what happened?”

“Yes,” said Remi.

Señora Velasquez unlocked their cell, and they all walked through the office, where Sam’s and Remi’s backpacks sat. Dr. Huerta went to his office two doors down the street and returned with a wheeled stretcher. He wheeled it across the street to a spot below the hanging body of the mayor. He and Sam held the rope taut while one of the farmers produced a knife and cut the rope so they could lower the mayor onto the stretcher. They lifted the stretcher to straighten the legs, covered the mayor with the blanket, and pushed him to Dr. Huerta’s infirmary. Many of the townspeople followed them in and others stood outside.

Inside the office, Remi said, “Is there a regional government to handle this?”

“Not one with troops,” said Father Gomez.

“The police?”

“You saw them,” said Dr. Huerta. “They were the ones trying to arrest you for smuggling drugs after you fought the killers who attacked you on your last visit.”

“Then it has to be the national police in Guatemala City,” Sam said.

Dr. Huerta said, “I just spoke with them on my satellite phone. They said they would send an inspector to take our statements next month, two months at the latest.”

“One inspector?” Sam said.

“Yes.”

“Oh, by the way,” said Father Gomez, “I brought you these.” He took the two pistols and two spare magazines out of his coat pockets and handed them to Sam and Remi.

“Thank you,” said Remi.

“Your car is ready too,” said Pepe. “No charge. I’m sorry for what we did to you. Maybe when you’re back in the big world, you’ll tell people we weren’t so bad.”

The door opened, and the crowd parted to let a small group of townspeople enter the clinic. Sam and Remi recognized many of them. Señor Alvarez, the restaurateur, seemed to have been chosen as a spokesman. “Señor and Señora Fargo,” he said. “What just happened was exactly what you said would happen. Those men came from the Estancia Guerrero. Instead of asking to look at the old stronghold peacefully, they made us watch them murder the mayor. They’re going to take our town and the stronghold and even our homes and families. We won’t ever be able to complain, because they’ll keep us deep in the Estancia. If we try to get help, they can kill all of us, and there will be nobody left to say what happened. We were wondering — I know it’s more than anyone has a right to ask — if you would stay and help us fight.”

Remi said, “After what just happened? Of course we’ll stay.”

“I have to warn you that we’re not soldiers,” said Sam. “But we’ll do everything we can to help.”

Dr. Huerta said, “You fought the men who were guarding the marijuana fields and won — just the two of you.”

“They attacked us, we defended ourselves for a while, and then we got away. That’s not winning.”

“You killed a dozen of them and you’re just fine,” Huerta said. “I call that a victory — a big one.”

Sam said, “I don’t think we’d have much chance against these people in a fight. They’re heavily armed with modern weapons, they’re trained and organized, and they’ve clearly fought before. Our best chance is to keep trying to get the authorities to protect the town.”

“I agree,” said Dr. Huerta. “I hope we can, and we will keep trying. But we should also be ready to fight.”

“Yes,” said Señor Alvarez. “We’re all willing to fight, but all we have is five days before they come back. We need to start preparing.”

“I’ll get started by making a few phone calls,” said Sam. He put an arm around Remi’s waist, and they stepped toward the door.

“But you’re going to stay?” said Dr. Huerta.

Remi said, “You bet we are. When he’s all gruff like that, it means he’s digging in.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.

“Just don’t get in any more trouble for now.”

“No, we’ve got enough to last us.”

Sam hung up and called the number of the U.S. Embassy in Guatemala City. He identified himself and asked for Amy Costa.

In a surprisingly short time, he heard Amy’s voice. “Sam!” she said. “Good to hear from you. Is everything all right?”

“I’m afraid not,” Sam said. “We’re in the town of Santa Maria de los Montañas, maybe twenty miles west of the Estancia Guerrero.” He told her about the truckload of armed men arriving, the demands, and the murder.

“Oh, Sam,” she said. “I can hardly believe this. You said they gave the town a deadline. What is it?”

“They said they’d be back in five days to get the signed agreements and presumably to move the townspeople to barracks on the Estancia. But it doesn’t seem to matter much to these guys how the town gets vacated. They drilled the mayor in front of two hundred witnesses.”

“Five days,” Amy Costa said. “It’s the worst possible timing. Commander Rueda is the only one we can count on to react the way we want and he’s suspended for the next thirty days.”

“I’m sure that isn’t a coincidence.”

“Sarah Allersby makes her own coincidences,” said Amy.

“Can you get us any help?”

“I’ll try. But the high-ranking officers all know what happened when Rueda agreed to go after Sarah Allersby. It will take time to get somebody else to stick his neck out.”

Sam said, “Do you know of any way we can get some weapons to defend the town?”