The Fifth Kingdom (17 page)

The sun was harsh on Miranda’s face, Deanna thought. It made her mother look washed-out, almost half-dead compared to the vital woman Deanna remembered from her youth. Only her eyes seemed alive, the green of them shimmering with pain.

“Hello, Deanna,” Miranda replied, her voice husky with emotion. The glint of tears in her eyes silvered by the rays of the sun until they spilled over and ran unabated down dusty cheeks, leaving trails in their wake.

“Such a touching performance,” said the man who had been standing by her mother as he approached, clapping his hands as if watching the end of a Saturday matinee.

Bill placed his hand on her shoulder again, offering support. “And you are?” he asked after the man stood in front of them.

“Javier Ramirez,” the man replied, not that Bill had really needed to know. Much as she had known with Diego, Deanna recognized the man’s face from the photos she and Bill had studied.

Javier flicked a finger in their direction and his men were immediately in motion, flanking them on either side while another man took up a position behind them.

Bill tensed, but calmly asked, “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Ramirez?”

“Let’s not play games. We all know why you are here.”

“I’m here to see my mother,” Deanna replied, her tone as neutral as she could make it.

Ramirez jerked his head and one of the men beside them moved closer. He snagged their packs and tossed them to Javier’s feet. Javier bent and rummaged through the bags. Tossed away the lunch and removed their cell phones. He handed the packs to one of his men who placed them in a nearby Jeep and then Javier dropped the phones to the ground. He brought his foot down smashing them beneath the heel of his cowboy boot.

Motioning to the guard, the man slipped the barrel of his rifle between her and Bill, separating them with a nudge to Bill’s midsection.

“On your knees, Dr. Vasquez,” Javier instructed, his dark eyes deadly flat like a shark’s.

“What do you want?” Deanna asked, but the man beside her poked her in the side with the rifle’s barrel.

Bill came to her aid, but the man whipped out with the butt end, caught him across his side. Along his injured ribs, doubling him over from the pain.

“On your knees, Dr. Vasquez. I won’t ask again,” Javier warned and Deanna dropped to the ground, wanting to keep Bill from any further injury. Praying that help would soon arrive.

Bill sucked in a rough breath, fighting for control. Things were escalating too quickly and his support was long overdue. He forced back the pain to stand upright, not even bothering to calculate the odds of breaking free. Besides Javier, Diego and Lopez, there were five other armed PM members nearby. He could handle with ease the three men immediately around him, but the others were too far away.

His gut clenched when the man who had struck him placed the point of his barrel a few inches from Deanna’s head.

“There’s no need for this,” he said, one hand held out in pleading.

“You’re right,” Javier replied, but pulled a pistol from the holster on his belt. He brought the weapon up and placed the muzzle against Miranda’s temple as he continued. “All that your lady friends need to do is give us directions to the tomb.”

Deanna risked a glance at him before saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a flick of his thumb, Javier undid the safety on the pistol. The click echoed loudly in the breezeless afternoon heat. He leaned close to Miranda and said, “Like mother, like daughter, Miranda. Such stubbornness is not a good thing for you.”

“No, don’t,” Deanna cried out, half rising and reaching out toward her mother.

The PM man holding the rifle on her yanked it upward, preparing to beat her with the butt. Bill stepped in, grabbing hold of the rifle defensively to avoid lethal retaliation.

It worked. With a backward swing the man lashed out at him instead. Bill blocked the blow with his arm, but then the guard behind him struck him with the butt end across the back of the head, driving him down on all fours.

Stars danced in his vision and his hearing faded for a moment. When it returned he heard a noisy rattle and the skitter of loose rock from the ridge up above them. As he looked upward, he saw the 4x4 crest the top of the hill.

Help had finally arrived.

Javier tossed Miranda down beside them and barked commands to his men. Three men surrounded them and herded them with jabs of the rifle barrels toward the furthest 4x4 while their friends opened fire on the vehicle that had come over the hilltop.

As they moved away, Bill stumbled, his knees still weak from the blow to his head. The misstep gave him the perfect opportunity, however, as one of their captors released his hold on his weapon to grab Bill’s arm.

Bill delivered a knockout punch to the man’s face and while the man crumpled, he grabbed his rifle and shot the second man coming to his aid. The third man whirled to see what was up and Bill dropped him with another shot before collapsing against the front fender of the 4x4.

Deanna knelt beside him, running her hand along the back of his head. It came away wet with blood.

“I’m okay. Stay down and get their weapons,” he instructed. He had to find out what was happening a few feet away. Sucking in a deep inhalation to drive away the dizziness in his head, he cradled the rifle to his shoulder and peered over the edge of the vehicle.

Javier and his men had his colleague and the Mexican soldiers pinned down with bursts of automatic weapons fire. The soldiers returned the gunfire with intermittent blasts of their own, clearly hesitant although his colleague was urging them on. The outcropping behind which PM had parked provided them cover, while Bill’s people were too exposed.

To help provide some protection for his team, Bill fired on the PM members from the rear, but his vision was blurry, making some of his shots go wide and drawing dangerous fire in their direction. Sliding back down the side of the 4x4, he checked the clip on his rifle. It was almost empty, but Deanna immediately handed him a gun that she had taken from one of the men he had killed.

He snagged the rifle, popped up over the edge to see what was happening. Several of the men with his colleague lay on the ground around their vehicle, either dead or wounded. His colleague was trapped behind an open door, returning fire, but extremely vulnerable.

A second later the thump-thump-thump of a helicopter sounded. Grew stronger as it came over the ridge of the hillside, silencing the gunfire for a few seconds as it distracted those on the ground.

A gunner emerged from the side of the helicopter and opened fire on the PM people on the hillside, but the fringe group members didn’t give ground, seemingly unafraid. Clearly they meant to make it a fight to the death.

Bill dropped back down and faced the two women. “We have to get out of here.”

“How?” Deanna asked before Bill peeked over the edge of the fender. Took a few shots before returning to where Miranda and Deanna huddled behind the protection of the vehicle.

“The keys are in the ignition. Can you drive a stick?” he asked.

“I can,” she confirmed and suddenly a roar filled the air. Sent a shock wave across the landscape.

Bill popped up again and the heat of the fire engulfing the 4x4 which had once held his fellow CIA agent and the Mexican soldiers blasted against his face. Bits and pieces of men and machine were scattered all around the flaming vehicle. Those men that were still alive were retreating, firing on the PM members, but they were now clearly on the defensive.

PM wasn’t done with their attack. From behind the security of the rock and their vehicle, they continued shooting and readied for another big attack.

As two of them raised an RPG launcher and loaded it, Bill fired on them, trying to distract them from the men trying to make an escape and the helicopter, which had withdrawn after the blast but was now circling back around to protect their men on the ground.

Bill eased down and jerked his head in the direction of the car. The motion sent a wave of nausea through his body, but he fought it back and instructed, “Get in the driver’s seat. I’ll cover you. Miranda, get in the back and lay low. On three.”

He counted down and in sync the three jumped into the 4x4.

Deanna started the car and Miranda called out, “Turn it around and head up around the ridge.”

Bill covered them with gunfire, bracing himself against the framework of the open canopy as Deanna hit the gas and yanked hard on the wheel. The motion nearly upended him, but he twisted and grabbed the crossbar. Continued firing as they moved up the path toward the ridge of the hillside, Deanna trying to keep the vehicle behind the protective shelter of low-lying pines and other rock formations.

After one turn placed them in a good position, he managed to hit one of the men manning the RPG, delaying the launch.

The pilot of the helicopter must have seen the danger also since he lifted the bird higher and began to move away from those down below.

They crested the lip of the hillside and the view was almost breathtaking. Volcanic eruptions years earlier had created a landscape filled with undulations and a series of gulches and arroyos cut through the earth before them.

Miranda pointed to one slender ribbon that snaked along the edge of one of the larger swaths of land. “Go left along that trail.”

Deanna did as instructed, maneuvering the vehicle down a slight dip before heading along the path.

“Where will that take us?” Bill questioned, his rifle trained on the ridge to protect them. Waiting for the PM members to follow, but Deanna pushed the vehicle at a breakneck pace along the path, opening up a large gap between them.

The sound of sporadic gunfire peppered the air, indicating that the battle was still being waged on the other side of the crest. A loud explosion chased after them and a plume of smoke rose up, followed moments later by the sickly whine of a struggling engine.

As Miranda and Bill watched, the helicopter crested the top of the hill, flames spewing from within the body. Whirling wildly as the pilot struggled to control the damaged aircraft, until with a final death spiral, the copter nose-dived to earth. The explosion that followed the crash sent reverberations throughout the hillside. Smoke from the burning wreckage created a dense layer of dark clouds that spread up and then across the ridge thanks to the air currents.

The smoke obscured their view of the hillside’s crest, likewise providing them cover as they raced along the path. Even those few minutes might help them escape, Bill thought, as the car bounced wildly along the ruts in the trail. Somehow Deanna managed to keep control of the vehicle, keeping it to the path as Miranda directed from the backseat.

With danger somewhat abated, Bill finally gave in to the weakness growing through his body, plopping into the seat beside Deanna. Leaning forward as dry heaves from the nausea overcame him.

Deanna snuck a look at him and noticed the blood freely running down the back of his head and neck. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

He sat back up, his face a pasty color and sweat running down the side of his temple. With her attention half on the road before her, she reached out and cupped his cheek. His skin was clammy beneath her palm.

Bill grasped her hand and said, “We need to protect Miranda’s discovery. We can’t let them get their hands on whatever is in that tomb.”

Swiveling around in the seat, he faced Miranda. “Can you take us there?”

“Yes. It’s not that far from here,” she indicated.

“Then let’s go save the world,” he kidded, obviously in an effort to curb her concern.

“Let’s go save the world,” she echoed, hoping that along the way they’d save themselves as well.

The 4x4 died less than ten minutes later. A couple of bullets had pierced the radiator and during their wild dash the fluid had drained out. Deanna had pushed it as long as possible, way past the steam that had made driving difficult until the engine finally seized with a sputter and the death rattle of pistons refusing to move.

“How much further do we have to go?” Bill asked as he glanced back along the path. PM had finally found their trail after the smoke from the crash had cleared, but the delay had given them a decent head start. But with the vehicle dead, PM would eat into that lead quickly in their 4x4s.

“We can go across this arroyo on foot. It’s not more than a half an hour in to the tomb,” Miranda advised, shielding her eyes from the sun to likewise track the progress of her kidnappers.

“Can’t you see he’s in no condition to go anywhere on foot?” Deanna lashed out, stalking to where Miranda stood and meeting her eye to eye.

It was like seeing younger and older versions of the same woman, they were so much alike. Build and faces. The way they moved as they both tilted their chins upward in a rebellious stance while they eyeballed each other.

“I’m fine,” Bill said and approached them, but when he did, dizziness washed over him. He wavered unsteadily.

Deanna rushed to his side, slipping beneath his shoulder to offer support. “You can’t make it that far,” she reasserted.

“We have no choice,
mi amor
.” He ran the back of his hand along her face, consoling her with that touch. Earning a raised eyebrow from Miranda with the gesture.

“Just who are you?” Miranda finally asked.

“CIA Agent Bill Santana,” he replied and held out his hand.

Miranda peered down at his hand and then followed the line of it to where he stood with Deanna tucked beneath his arm. “What are you to my daughter?”

“A little late to start playing mother, don’t you think?” Deanna replied caustically.

While Bill wished that he could give the two women the time they needed to vent more of their pent-up emotions, now was not the time.

“We need to go, ladies.”

Shrugging off Deanna’s assistance in the hopes of putting an end to her concern, he went back to the now-dead 4x4. He grabbed his pack and handed Deanna hers. They had been lucky that their captors had tossed the bags into the vehicle earlier. At least they would have some basic supplies and he would have more ammunition for his pistol since he was down to his last clip of ammo for the rifle.

Miranda was already on her way down the slight incline to the arroyo, the ground beneath her feet littered with loose rock that made her fight for balance until the earth leveled off. Then she paused to wait for them, hands on her hips.

“You go first. I’ll follow once you’re on safer ground,” Bill said, worried about losing his footing and taking her down with him.

“We go together or not at all,” Deanna said, standing before him with her arms akimbo, her features set in determined lines.

Because he knew there was no arguing with her, he nodded. “Together.”

Arm in arm they scrambled down the slippery slope, the ground beneath their feet as unstable as trying to walk on marbles, but somehow they made it without incident to where Miranda stood.

Mother and daughter shared a glare, but then Miranda whirled and proceeded down the dry bed of the arroyo, Bill and Deanna following her.

Bill’s head was pounding, but with the heat of the summer sun fading as afternoon approached, the pain receded and he slowly began to feel stronger. He shared a quick glance with Deanna and saw the relief on her face when she realized he was better. But they didn’t separate, walking together along the path. Their pace brisk as they pushed to maintain the distance between them and their pursuers.

Bill hoped that someone had gotten off a message about needing more help before they had been overtaken by the terrorists and that the CIA was now tracking their GPS signals in order to send in more support. But he didn’t know how long that would take.

They were a good mile along the path when the sound of an engine rebounded along the walls of the arroyo. Pausing, Bill looked back and noted the shadow of the 4x4 on the rim of the hillside. To his surprise PM drove it down into the arroyo, the vehicle slipping and sliding along the uncertain earth, but then gaining purchase.

They would not be able to drive it all the way down. The arroyo narrowed drastically about a half a mile in, but they would be able to make up a great deal of distance on them.

Miranda and Deanna must have realized it also. “We have to hurry,” Deanna said and her mother didn’t argue.

They pushed off and in about half a mile they reached a point where the narrow gully forked in two. Along the one fork there was a break in the rock wall and Miranda pointed to the slim gap.

“In there.” She entered the opening and Deanna was about to follow her when a bullet slammed into the earth just above her head.

“Hurry,” Bill warned. He brought the rifle up to his shoulder and returned fire to protect her.

Another shot came, whizzing by his head like an angry mosquito. He backpedaled into the gap, shooting as he did so until a burning sensation erupted in his midsection.

He stumbled backward, but then Deanna’s hand on his shoulder urged him through another break in the wall. Somehow he stayed on his feet despite the pain spreading through his gut. Kept on shooting to provide them protection until he suddenly felt himself falling through the air and landing on softer earth.

The barest hint of light seeped into the darkness as he laid there, the air knocked from his lungs from the impact with the ground. The searing pain in his gut fading. With the scrape of rock against rock, he heard Miranda say, “Push, Deanna. Push.”

Deanna grunted with determination. Immediately the crunch of stone riding along stone foreshadowed the descent of total darkness into the space as they closed themselves in.

Bill tried to rise, but his body refused to cooperate.

His throat was itchy from the dust along the ground and he still couldn’t catch a breath from the fall. But then he felt the warm wetness beneath his back. As a bare glimmer of light came from a lantern that Miranda placed beside him, he tried to focus on Deanna’s face when she knelt beside him, but couldn’t.

As her hands pressed to his midsection, he barely felt them.

He knew then. He was dying.