Quest for redemption, p.26
Quest for Redemption, page 26
But, he reminded himself one last time, he couldn’t count on that. All he could count on was what they themselves could accomplish, and it was time to get after it.
“Okay, everybody ready?”
“Tom and Stacy have security out front,” Brad said. He’d more or less assumed the role of Jim’s lieutenant, which was fine by him.
“We’ll get ‘em in a second.” Jim looked at the anxious faces around him. At least, everybody’d gotten a good meal last night, some sleep and then breakfast this morning. The showers had been put to good use. Fortunately, the porters who were responsible for their duffels had stayed on schedule, even making it to Colpa ahead of them so that each hiker had a change of clothes. After talking it over with Gina, Jim proposed they send the porters along the regular route, and if everybody made it to Aguas Calientes ahead of them, well, they wouldn’t mind hanging around an extra day to let the duffels catch up before they all headed to Cusco. Right now, an extra pair of underwear or socks was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
“Anything new on the radio, Brad?”
“Nothing since just before dawn,” the Texan said. “The army’s in the field.”
“Hooray for the good guys,” Tom said, without a lot of enthusiasm. Nobody was ready to sit tight and put their trust in Peru’s finest.
“All right. Ernie, how far back on the trail do we backtrack before we get to the shortcut?”
“Not far, Señor Jim. Maybe two, three hundred meters.”
“Then we stay extra sharp on the way, just in case our friends from Shining Path are up and at ‘em early this morning, too. Ernie and I will lead the way to the shortcut. Brad, you and Willa have the six for the first leg.”
“Roger that.” Jim suppressed a grin. A lot of the hikers were dropping military jargon into their conversations, probably picked up from the movies and Tom Clancy novels.
“Ernie, how far to the next pass?”
“Perhaps five kilometers on the trail we’re taking, but it is difficult. Another five or six after that to the river. It will be easier going down.”
Jim saw some heads nodding. A good sign; they were toughened up now and knew they could make it. “Six or seven miles, guys,” he said. “We can do this.”
“Give the word, Jim,” Don said. Next to him, Lois gave him a thumbs up.
“All right. We stick together, help each other out. Stay alert. Don’t get too frisky with your weapon.”
“Uh, Jim?” It was Stephanie, Bill’s wife.
“Yes?”
“I wonder…could we say a prayer before we start out?”
It certainly couldn’t hurt, Jim thought. “Of course.”
“Let’s all join hands,” she said.
The group spread out into a small circle. Jim saw that the Peruvian boys were standing aside, watching. Earlier, they’d given Jim their word that they wouldn’t try to escape. In a leap of faith, he decided to let them come along without restraints. Now, he waved them into the circle. Tom and Stacy were the nearest to them, and Stacy released her husband’s hand and motioned for the boys to join them. There was a tense moment as Julio stood next to Tom, but then the American reached over and took the Peruvian’s hand.
Everyone had seen the gesture, and it sent a wave of energy through them. Smiling, Jim nodded at Stephanie to begin.
“Our Father, who art in Heaven…”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The men took a little longer to strike the camp than Garcia would’ve preferred, but at the same time, they couldn’t afford to hurry, maybe making noise that would draw attention from the soldiers at Wayra, who surely had sentries posted. His own man—Chavez, this time, anxious to do something to make up for being unable to carry a weapon—reported that the soldiers were a little behind the MCPP men in their morning ablutions. One man, he said, had gone outside to smoke a cigarette, and through binoculars Chavez could tell he was an officer. In the dim light of dawn, he couldn’t quite make out the shoulder boards on the man’s uniform, but he thought there were three stripes on them, which would make him a capitán. The officer’s unit insignia could’ve been from 5th Mountain Brigade, which made sense; Garcia knew the unit was based in Cusco.
El Tigre breathed a sigh of relief at that news. The planning for the mission had taken into account the nearby military units and their capabilities, and while the mountain brigades of Ejercito del Peru were not to be taken lightly, they weren’t crack outfits, either. There was a Special Forces brigade in this part of the country, based in Arequipa, but fortunately the generals in Lima had not chosen that unit for this particular mission. Well, that would be to Garcia’s advantage. The 6th SF was a formidable force, trained to fight in this very part of the country, just in case the Bolivians decided to get revenge for Peru’s 1828 invasion. That still rubbed the Bolivians the wrong way after nearly two centuries.
Aguilar had just reported that the men were ready to go when Garcia’s sat phone buzzed. Irritated at the interruption, he told the sergeant to get the men ready to move the instant he returned from the call. Walking several meters away and finding some privacy behind a large boulder, Garcia punched the appropriate button. “This is Garcia.”
“Good morning, my friend,” Wu said. “I am glad to find you well.”
“We are about to move out,” he said. “What can I do for you?” Garcia didn’t care if he sounded short with the chino.
“I wanted to tell you about your diversionary operation in the north.”
“Very well. It is underway?”
“It is over already,” the Chinese agent said, and with a degree of smugness that came through the slight static. “I am afraid your associates were not able to attract the government’s attention for more than twenty-four hours.”
Garcia’s grip on the phone tightened. He had been hoping for at least another day and night of distraction on the part of Lima, but now…
“I will spare you the details,” Wu said. “Unfortunately, the government’s response was more swift and efficient than we anticipated.”
“It should be enough,” Garcia lied, knowing full well that it wasn’t. “We are about to close on the target.”
“You have had losses, I hear.”
Word had certainly gotten back to Lima quickly from the troops not a kilometer away from him. Once again, Garcia was impressed, and a little unnerved, about the efficiency of the Chinese. They must have had the Defense Ministry in Lima very thoroughly penetrated. “Four of my soldados were killed in the first contact with the target,” he said. “But you know that already, you said.”
“Yes. Most unfortunate. The American woman I warned you about earlier…you will recall our conversation, I trust?”
“I do. There was much confusion in the tent, apparently. She got lucky.”
“Ah, so. ‘In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.’ Sun Tzu.”
Garcia grunted. What could an ancient Chinese philosopher-general possibly tell him about fighting in the Andes in the twenty-first century? These people were sometimes too inscrutable for their own good. “Is there anything else?”
“Unfortunately, there is. One of your two missing teams was reportedly captured, in the town of Puerto Rico. They were only a few dozen kilometers from the safety of your valley. Truly regrettable. Of the other missing team, I have heard nothing. We might assume it made it home, but perhaps not.”
This time Garcia couldn’t suppress a sigh. With either of the teams in custody, it was only a matter of time before the men on the team were broken and told the government everything they knew. That might very well be enough to prompt Lima to move on the VRAEM in force. And that meant…
“Are you still there, my friend?”
“Yes, I am here.” He paused, then said, “The Bolivia extraction plan…is it still viable?”
“Just barely,” Wu said. “I can possibly arrange transport for you, maybe as early as tonight, depending on where you can be.”
Garcia was about to tell the Chinese agent where he was and where he was heading, but stopped at the last second. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that the Chinese were playing both ends against the middle. If Wu and his superiors had determined that the MCPP was doomed, they would be moving over to the other side soon. Pragmatism would trump political philosophy every time, Garcia knew that very well. “We are on the move as soon as I end this call,” he said. “I will call you after our mission has been completed, and then I will tell you where your man can find me.”
“Your mission? My friend, I—”
Aguilar was coming this way, undoubtedly impatient to get moving. Garcia said, “We are moving out now, Tongzhi. I will contact you in no less than six hours.” He pressed the button that ended the call.
“The men are ready,” Aguilar said as he got within ten meters. “We should move now, Teniente. Gutierrez reports the soldiers are stirring in the lodge.”
“Very well.”
“Is everything all right? Was that news from home?”
“Our mission continues,” Garcia said.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“Hey, Ernie!”
“Si, Señor Tom?”
“How do you say, ‘This trail’s a bitch’ in Spanish?”
The guide laughed. “Este camino es una perra. Especially this half-kilometer. Be mindful of the drop on our left, everyone!”
It was good that their sense of humor was intact, Gina thought, because Tom was right, this shortcut of Ernie’s was truly a cagna. They’d found it easily enough, just a hundred fifty meters back up the trail from the lodge, and for the first half-mile or so, things had gone well. Ernie told her that if this had been a normal Salkantay Trail trek—and wouldn’t that have been nice—it would’ve been some twenty kilometers to Lucma Lodge, some of it on a road. There would’ve been a side trip available for hikers: zip-lining through a nearby canyon, rather than the hike. Gina wondered if Jim knew that. Hopefully he hadn’t been told; he would’ve loved the zip-lining.
They would lose about a thousand feet of altitude on this first leg, Ernie said, before gaining it back as they climbed up and over Llactapata Pass. Then, the final leg down to the river, the last ten kilometers. It would be steep, down about two thousand feet from the pass to the bridge.
The trail was too narrow to support tandem hikers, so they were going single file. Jim had started up front with Ernie, but was going back and forth regularly along the line, making sure everybody was okay. Right now, only a half-hour onto the shortcut, Tom and Stacy were behind Ernie, followed by the Coloradans, Bill and Stephanie, just ahead of the first mule, carrying Michael, whose insistence that he was able to walk went unheeded. Wendy was leading his mule. Next in line was Lois on her mount, led by the older Peruvian kid, Julio. Don trailed the animal, unable to walk beside his wife, as he had yesterday. Gina had just dropped back to check on her. Stacy had insisted on hiking, even with her patched-up arm, so the third mule was being used to pack water and food. Esteban, the younger brother, had the mule’s rope. Behind that one was the horse they’d brought along since the start of the trek two days ago, led by Manuel. They’d put the horse’s saddle on the mule for Lois, wanting to give the horse a break after yesterday.
Gina considered slowing her pace to let the rest of the group catch up, so she could check on them, make sure they stayed hydrated. Would Ernie be calling for a water break anytime soon? She looked back down the trail and thought she spotted Jim’s tall form, coming up from his check-in with Brad and Willa on “the six,” the tail end of the formation. Gina grinned at the thought of the phrase. Jim had always admired his brother Mark for his long Army service, with not a little jealousy thrown in, and now here he was, leading his own little platoon on a very important mission. Lives were at stake, yes, but so far, there’d been no sign of any pursuit. Maybe they were going to make it—
“Lois!” Don yelled.
Gina turned as she heard it happen. The mule carrying Lois had slipped on a rock. The animal’s rump swung to the left, toward the edge of the narrow trail with a steep drop beyond. The mule, sensing the danger, struggled to compensate, digging in its front hooves, pushing with its rear legs, but the left rear hoof slid on a patch of dirt and caught on a stray tree root. Gina heard a sickening crack and the mule screamed in agony. Lois shrieked as the animal pitched itself and its rider over the side.
The mule bounced and tumbled down, its horrifying brays something Gina would never forget. But she would also never forget the sight of Julio, dropping the rope and leaping for Lois, reaching out with his right hand as he scrambled with his left for something, anything to hold onto. He caught Lois by her right wrist, pulled her off the back of the animal and away from its fall. Julio’s left hand came down on the trail, grasping frantically for something to hold onto, finally finding a stray root. The boy yelled in pain as the full weight of Lois pulled on his right arm, but he held on, bouncing her off the side of the dropoff.
“Julio!” Esteban yelled. He pushed past Gina and dove for his brother’s outstretched hand, reaching out with both of his to grab Julio’s wrist. Behind him, Gina took hold of Esteban’s ankles and pulled, digging her boot heels into the ground, feeling them slide. She screamed. “Jim! HELP!”
It wasn’t going to work, she wasn’t strong enough, three bodies to hold onto, the ground was too soft, the mule was still braying in its agony, Don was shouting for Lois, Julio yelled in Spanish, his brother answered him, and they were going over, they would all die, but then strong hands reached from alongside her and grabbed Esteban’s legs, a man on each, and Bill was down on his stomach to help Julio, and Don was reaching for Lois with Tom right there beside him. Time seemed to slow down for Gina, and she felt them all right on the precipice between safety and tragedy. Then, the bodies started moving back onto the trail, an inch, then three, then five, ten, a foot, and they were safe.
The brothers lay on their stomachs in the dirt, panting, unable to do anything more. Don and Tom had pulled Lois up. She was barely conscious. Gina let go of Esteban’s legs, staggered and would’ve fallen if not for Jim, right behind her. He and Brad had each held one of the boy’s legs, saving two, maybe three lives. “Lois!” Gina said, her chest heaving. “I have to get to Lois!” Breaking free of Jim, she stumbled forward to where the woman lay on her back, Don beside her.
“She’s dazed, but alive,” Gina said. There was a dark bruise and a cut on the side of her head, with blood seeping through her hair. “Must’ve hit a rock when Julio grabbed her.”
She helped Lois sit up. “I need my medical kit,” she said, pulling her backpack off. As she used a Handi-Wipe on the cut, she saw Jim and Brad helping the brothers to their feet. Julio bent over, tried to put his hands on his knees, but he couldn’t move his arms very well. When he stood back up, his face was wracked with pain. Next to him, Esteban was looking down at the mule. He pointed and said, “Ay dios mío, ella esta ma herida.” Ernie was next to him, putting an arm around the boy’s shoulder, whispering something to him.
“Is everybody okay?” It was Jim.
Lois was coming around. She recognized Don, then Gina. “My God,” Lois said. She blinked, then looked back toward the edge of the trail. The mule cried out in pain. “Oh, God, please help her!” She tried to struggle to her feet, but Gina gently pushed her back down.
Ernie looked at Jim, his face drawn with sadness. “The mule, she has a broken leg, maybe more than that,” he said.
Brad was leaning over the edge, looking down. Gina could hear the mule, but couldn’t see her, and she had no desire to look. It would be a sight that couldn’t be unseen, she knew. “He’s right,” Brad said, standing up and shaking his head. He took off his hat, wiped a hand across his brow. “Damn. We’ve gotta put her down, Jim.”
Jim squatted next to the edge, looked down, then away. He shook his head. “Shit,” he said. “Son of a bitch!” He unshouldered his rifle.
Esteban stepped forward. Tears were streaming down his face, but he stood bravely in front of the much taller man. “I do it,” he said. He turned to Ernie and said something in Spanish.
“He asks to help send the mule to the afterlife. It is important to his tribe, he says, to honor the service of the animals.”
Brad looked at the boy, then at Jim. “Oh, man…”
Stacy had taken a look, then broke away from the sight. She was crying. “For God’s sake, do something for her!”
Jim took one look toward the edge of the trail. Down below, the mule’s plaintive brays were getting weaker. Jim unslung his rifle and handed it to Esteban. Next to him, Brad brought his own rifle around and kept it ready, just in case. Gina knew what he was preparing for, but somehow she trusted the boy. He and his brother had risked their lives to save Lois.
Esteban took the rifle, handling it with some familiarity. He took a few steps away along the edge of the trail, looked down, blinked, turned away, then lifted his face to the sky, eyes closed. He whispered something nobody else could hear. Gina knew he was praying.
The boy took a deep breath, aimed, and fired. The sound of the shot echoed around them. The last bray of the mule was cut off. As the echo of the shot raced away, silence took hold of the group, broken only by the sobbing of some of the women, and a few of the men as well.
***
A little more than two miles away, Garcia heard the sound of a gunshot. The lodge was up ahead about a hundred meters, but the shot hadn’t come from there. He barked a question. “Where did that come from?”
