Chapter 22
Sam and Remi approached the forested edge of the open plaza and stopped for a moment to exchange a brief embrace. Remi said, “Remind me never to get a chemical peel.”
“I doubt that you’ll forget, but I think his was worse than most,” Sam said.
“Yes. It’s amazing what some men will do for a little extra beauty.”
Sam chuckled. They returned to the great plaza and saw it was dominated by two big CH-47 Chinook troop carrier helicopters that had set down on both ends of the cleared space. Soldiers in battle dress had taken positions in various parts of the ruin, and there was a squad surrounding the sun awning, where Sarah Allersby and her group stood uneasily while Commander Rueda spoke with her.
Sarah Allersby raised her eyes and looked stricken when she saw Sam and Remi arrive, looking a bit disheveled, sweaty, and dirty.
“Hello, Sarah,” said Remi.
“How dare you come back here?” Sarah Allersby turned toward Commander Rueda. “I just had some men escort these interlopers away from this vulnerable site.”
Sam said, “What she means is that she gave two of her thugs her blessing to murder us in the jungle.”
“That’s absurd! Me? That’s laughable.” As though to prove it, Sarah managed an unconvincing laugh.
Commander Rueda said, “Everyone save this conversation for headquarters.” He turned to the lieutenant in charge of the squad. “You and your men search everything — tents, helicopters, every bag, box, or case.”
“You have no right to do that,” Sarah Allersby protested.
“You’ll have your chance to argue with our methods in court.”
“I’ll remember you said that,” she said coldly.
Sam said, “Commander, we left the two men who were supposed to kill us tied up in the jungle. We shouldn’t really leave them like that.”
“Of course,” said Commander Rueda. He turned to the lieutenant again. “Assign three men to go with the Fargos and take the suspects into custody.”
Remi took a step, but Sam held her back. “You’ve earned a rest.” He moved his eyes in the direction of the men searching Sarah Allersby’s campsite.
Remi nodded in agreement, and Sam kissed her cheek. “Nice work back there. See you in a little while.”
Sam walked across the plaza with the three soldiers. As he walked, he noticed that Rueda’s soldiers had lined up the armed guards in a shaded area by the pyramid. Their rifles were stacked in a pile a hundred feet away.
Sam led the men along the path. The distance Ruiz and Russell had taken them came as a bit of a surprise to Sam. On the first trip, he had been trying to make the walk as slowly as possible to give the federal police time to get here. On the way back, he and Remi had been running. This time, the mile of jungle path seemed to take forever. But at last he reached the little valley where Ruiz and Russell had taken them.
Russell and Ruiz were gone. Sam was silent for a moment while the three soldiers looked at him. He pointed at the spot. “This is where we left them tied up. I guess I did a bad job of tying.”
The sergeant said, “Are you sure this is the place?”
Sam pointed. “There’s the grave they had me dig.”
One of the soldiers squatted nearby. “I found something,” he said. “One of them rolled from there to here, where the other one was.” He picked up a strip of leather from the ground and examined it closely. “He chewed through the other one’s leather cord.”
“I should have thought of that and tied them to trees,” Sam said. “Maybe we can pick up their trail.”
The soldier who seemed to be a tracker walked around the perimeter of the clearing, staring at the ground, then touching the foliage. He started into the jungle, then came back, tried another place and came back. “I can’t find any footprints. I don’t know which way to go.”
“They’re barefoot,” said Sam. “We took their boots, so there won’t be any boot prints.”
The sergeant shrugged. “They won’t get far barefoot. They’ll have to go back to the camp or die out here.”
Sam stared at the ground for a few seconds, reluctant to give up. The three soldiers began to move off up the path, and Sam turned to follow. He stopped, walked through the bushes around the clearing but found nothing. Finally, he sighed, then trotted off after the soldiers.
When Sam and his companions returned to the plaza, the army helicopters’ doors were open and people were climbing aboard. Soldiers loaded the two civilian copters with the camera equipment, folded tents, and supplies. The camera crew, Sarah Allersby’s assistants, and the dig supervisors got in.
What caught Sam’s eye was Sarah Allersby in handcuffs, being escorted by Commander Rueda to one of the two big military helicopters.
Remi stood, waiting for Sam, at the field. She ran to meet him. “Where are they?”
“One of them rolled over to where the other one was and chewed through his leather shoelace. They got away.”
“I’ll bet it was Ruiz,” Remi said. “He has beautiful teeth.”
“The sergeant says they’ll never get anywhere on foot. On the other hand, I keep remembering that lots of people in this part of the world don’t have shoes. What’s going on?”
“Rueda said that Sarah had photocopies of the four pages of the codex that made up the map in her suitcase, with this site marked. She also had aerial photos of the same four sites we picked out, and a few more. It’s not the codex, but it’s proof that she at least had the original codex long enough to photograph it.”
“She’s under arrest?”
Remi nodded. “She’s on her way to be booked in Guatemala City for possession of stolen property and for damaging this site. I think Rueda wants to arrange something public, to discourage the other people who do this kind of thing.”
“If we want a ride to civilization, we’d better go retrieve our backpacks,” said Sam.
“I did that while you were gone,” she whispered. “I also went back to retrieve our pistols in the woods. I broke them down and put the pieces in the packs. I’ve already put them aboard.”
“Good thinking. Thanks.” Sam looked around him as the soldiers climbed into the helicopters. A half dozen of them remained near the pyramid, setting up a camp of their own, to guard the site. “We’d better get seats in the chopper before they run out of room.”
Remi climbed in, and Sam followed. There were seats of crisscross nylon netting along both walls. They selected a pair, strapped themselves in, and a minute later the engine growled to life and then lifted the big chopper into the air.
Jerry Ruiz looked up at the sky. First one, then another, then the last two helicopters soared overhead. He judged that they were moving southward toward Guatemala City.
“It’s safe to head back to the pyramid now,” Russell said. “Two of those were definitely the big troop carriers.”
“Okay. Let’s go,” said Ruiz. “Keep your eyes open to see where Fargo threw our boots.”
Russell walked for a few feet, then stepped on a sharp stone, hopped on one foot, and landed on a pointed stick in the path. “Ow! Ah!” he said, sat on the path, and stared at the soles of both feet, then got up again and moved ahead gingerly. Russell’s already red and painful face now looked worse. Much of the sandy gravel that Sam Fargo had thrown in it had been stuck to his raw skin and was held there by the Vaseline, and when he’d been hog-tied on the ground, his face had also picked up more dirt, grass, and small sticks.
Ruiz wisely said nothing. There was no need to remind Russell of his face or to warn him that the path was treacherous and studded with sharp stones or that the low brush on both sides had thorns. Russell had already sworn about it six or seven times in the last ten minutes.
Ruiz had trouble walking too. The shovel had left a shallow cut and a large bruise on his leg just above the
