recognized many of them. Senor Alvarez, the restaurateur, seemed to have been chosen as a spokesman. “Senor and Senora 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 Senor 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 Montanas, 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?”
Amy said, “Weapons? I’m sorry, but involvement in unauthorized firearms transactions would get the embassy expelled from the country. And it would require going all the way up the chain of command to get permission at the highest levels. Some of my superiors don’t see Sarah Allersby as our business. They think the locals should take care of her.”
“Let’s just hope the townspeople are still alive when that happens.”
Chapter 29
Sarah Allersby was waiting in the old countinghouse, a relic from the days of the Guerreros. She sat at the biggest of the old desks, directly under a ceiling fan operated by a belt attached to a long shaft along the ceiling and turned from outside the building, originally by hand but now by electric motor. She sat back, closed her eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths to relax. Russell had telephoned her a half hour ago, so she guessed they were almost here by now. Soon she heard the sound of the truck gearing down on the highway, then making the turn onto the drive. It still amazed her how quiet the Estancia could be. There was noise whenever there was a flurry of work — harvest, planting, or shipping — but for weeks on end there was almost no sound out here. She stood, stepped up to a window that faced the forest, and looked at her reflection in the glass.
She wore a loose white silk blouse, a pair of fitted black slacks with black knee-high riding boots, and a black flat-brimmed hat that hung down her back from its stampede string. She adjusted the black leather belt on her hips so the gun hung lower on the right, as though she were about to engage in a quick-draw gunfight. She stepped outside onto the wooden porch, her leather boot heels making a hard clicking noise on the boards.
The truck grumbled up the gravel drive and stopped in front of her. Men jumped down from the truck bed. They looked impressive to her, all carrying AK-47 knockoffs, most of them armed with fighting knives in sheaths. They stood in a wavering line beside their truck and looked at her expectantly. Russell and Ruiz jumped down from the cab and approached her.
She said, “You sounded on the phone as though it went well.”
“I guess it did,” said Russell. “We herded them outside and gave them the message.”
“Good.”
He spoke more quietly. “An old guy who claimed to be the mayor tried to make a speech about not signing. We shot him and hung his body from a tree. We said if anybody moved him before we came back in five days, we’d shoot some more.”
Sarah clapped her hands. “I never would have thought of that. Brilliant. I’ll bet they were utterly terrified.”
“It’s hard to tell. They were all sort of stony-faced.”
“Well, watching the mayor rot for a few days should soften them up.” She turned to the men that had been with Russell. She said in Spanish, “You can all go along now, gentlemen. Mr. Ruiz will pay you while I talk with Mr. Russell. Mr. Ruiz, the money is in the black briefcase on the desk.”
She and Russell walked toward her car, a black Maybach, which was parked a distance away. “Without you, my efforts and a considerable sum of money would have been wasted. I’m acutely aware of the hardships you’ve endured because of your work. You’ll be paid very well for everything. The trust you’ve earned will pay dividends.”
“I hope the risk pays off for you.”
“It’s essential that we succeed. These Indian peasants are sitting on a major Mayan site, and we’ll need a free hand to exploit it. They have to be removed quickly, before the word gets out and they become ‘a cause.’”
“What I’m worried about is what happens after we’ve brought them here. Will San Martin let you keep what you find? His mercenaries make him stronger than we are.”
“Trust me,” she said, “Diego needs me more than I need him. Being on land that belongs to me keeps him untouchable. And as long as you give me your loyalty, I promise you’ll be safe.” She stopped walking. “My driver is new, and I don’t know if I can trust him yet. If you have anything else to say, say it now.”
