Arthur Hailey - Evening News

"We have to do it,” Partridge said, explaining their problem to Jessica and Nicky.”It may be exhausting, but there's no time to rest, and if we have to, we'll help each other. Fernandez will lead. I'll be in the rear.”

Minutes later the boat keel scraped on a sandy beach and they walked ashore through shallow water. An opening in what was otherwise a solid jungle wall was immediately ahead.

If they had had more time, Partridge would have attempted to hide the boat or push it toward midstream and let it drift. As it was, they left it on the beach.

Then, about to enter the jungle, Fernandez halted, motioning everyone to silence. Cocking his head to one side, he stood listening in the still morning air. He was more familiar with the jungle than the others, his hearing more finely attuned to its sounds. He asked Partridge softly, "Do you hear?”

Listening, Partridge thought he could hear a distant murmuring sound from the direction they had come, but wasn't sure. He asked, "What is it?”

"Another boat,” Fernandez answered.”Still a good distance away, but coming fast.”

Without further delay they moved into the jungle.

* * *

The trail was not nearly as difficult to follow as that from the highway landing point to Nueva Esperanza which Partridge and the others in the rescue team had traversed three days earlier. It was obvious that the trail they were on was used more frequently, because it was only slightly overgrown and not at any point impassable, as the other had been.

Just the same, it was treacherous underfoot. Uneven ground, protruding roots and soft patches where a foot could sink into mud or water were continual hazards.

”Watch very carefully where you step,” Fernandez warned from in front where he was setting a fast, forced pace.

Partridge echoed, trying to be flippant and keep spirits high, "We don't want to have to carry anyone. I'm sweating enough.”

And so they all were. As during the other jungle trek, the heat was sweltering and steamy and would get hotter as the day advanced. The insects, too, were active.

The uppermost question in Partridge's mind was: How long could Jessica and Nicky last under this grueling pressure? After a while he decided Jessica would make it; she had determination and also, apparently, the stamina. Nicky, though, showed signs of flagging.

At the beginning Nicky hung back, clearly wanting to be close to Partridge, as he had earlier. But Partridge insisted that the boy and Jessica be up forward, immediately behind Fernandez.”We'll be together later, Nicky,” he said.”Right now I want you with your mother.” With obvious reluctance, Nicky had complied.

Assuming the boat they had heard was carrying their pursuers, Partridge knew an assault would come from behind. If and when that happened, he would do his best to fight off the attack while the others continued on. He had already checked the Kalashnikov rifle he was carrying over his shoulder and had the two spare magazines in a pocket where he could get to them easily.

Again Partridge checked his watch: 7:35 A.m. They had been on the trail almost forty minutes. Remembering the eight o'clock rendezvous with AeroLibertad, he hoped they had covered three quarters of the way.

Moments later they were forced to stop.

Considered afterward, it seemed ironic that Fernandez, who warned the others about stepping carefully, should himself misstep and fall heavily, his foot trapped in a muddy mess of roots. As Partridge hurried toward him, Minh was already holding Fernandez while O'Hara struggled to free the foot; at the same time Fernandez was grimacing with pain.

”I appear to have done some damage,” he told Partridge.”I am sorry. I have let you down.”

When the foot was free, Fernandez found it impossible to walk without excruciating pain. Clearly his ankle was broken or very badly sprained.

”That's not true; you've never let us down,” Partridge said.”You've been our guide and good companion and we'll carry you. We need to make some kind of litter.”

Fernandez shook his head.”Even if possible, there is not time. I have not spoken of it, Harry, but I have heard sounds behind us. They are following, and not far away. You must go on, and leave me.”

Jessica had joined them. She told Partridge, "We can't leave him here.”

"One of us can take you on his back,” O'Hara said.”I'll try it."

"In this heat?” Fernandez was impatient.”You would not last a hundred yards and it would slow all of you.”

About to add his own protest, Partridge knew it would be an exercise in futility. Fernandez was right; there could be no other choice than leaving him. But he added, "If there's help at the airstrip and it can be done, we'll come back for you.”

"Do not waste more time, Harry. I need to say some things quickly.” Fernandez was sitting beside the trail, his back against a tree; the brush was too thick to move him farther in. Partridge knelt beside him. Jessica joined them.

”I have a wife and four children,” Fernandez said.”I would like to think someone will take care of them.”

"You work for CBA,” Partridge said, "and CBA will do it. I give you my solemn word, an official promise. The children's education—everything.”

Fernandez nodded, then motioned to an M-16 rifle he had been carrying and which lay beside him.”You had better take this. You may need it as well as what you have. But I do not intend to be taken alive. I would like a pistol.” Partridge gave him the nine-millimeter Browning, first slipping off the silencer.

”Oh, Fernandez!” Jessica's voice was choked, her eyes filled with tears.”Nicky and I owe you so much.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

”Then go!” Fernandez urged her.”Do not squander more time and lose what we have won!”

As Jessica rose, Partridge leaned forward, held Fernandez tightly and kissed him on both cheeks. Behind him Minh and O'Hara waited to give a farewell hug.

Rising, Partridge moved forward. He did not look back.

* * *

The moment Miguel saw a boat beached at the entrance to the jungle trail, then recognized it as from Nueva Esperanza, he was glad he had made the decision to join the Sion airstrip sortie.

He was even more pleased when Ramon, leaping quickly from their own boat as it nudged into shore, ran to the other boat and announced, "Un motor esta caliente, el otro frio — fundido. ”

The hot engine meant their quarry had not been in the jungle very long. The cold, burned-out engine told them the other boat's speed had been reduced, its occupants delayed in getting here.

As well as Miguel, the Sendero group comprised seven wellarmed men. Speaking in Spanish, he told them, "The bourgeois scum cannot be far ahead. We'll catch and punish them. Let us move like the wrath of Guzman!”

There was a ragged cheer as they filed quickly into the jungle.

* * *

"We're a few minutes early,” Rita Abrams told the Cheyenne 11 pilot, Oswaldo Zileri, as they approached the Sion airstrip—first point of call on their aerial itinerary. A moment ago she had checked her Watch: 7:55.

”We'll circle and watch,” he said.”In any case, this is the least likely place for your friends to be.”

As they had yesterday, all four in the plane—Rita, Crawford Sloane, Zileri and the copilot, Felipe—peered down at the quilt of green beneath them. They were looking for any sign of movement, particularly around the short, tree-lined airstrip, which was hard to see until they were directly overhead. Again, like yesterday, there was no visible activity of any kind.

* * *

Along the jungle trail, Nicky was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain the punishing pace. Jessica and Minh were helping him, each grabbing an arm and partially pulling him, partially lifting him over difficult patches as they continued forward. Eventually Nicky might have to be carried, but for the moment the others husbanded their remaining strength.