Lost Voyage (19 page)

33

Mercer was closing in on Vallejos’ position as he chased the dictator through the jungle. It was getting harder to see through the darkness, and while he could see the fleeing man appearing and disappearing between the trees, there was no angle for a clean shot. He decided to wait until he was closer before firing any rounds.

The cartel leader was able to stay far enough ahead for only a few more minutes as the gap between them was shortened. When the distance had closed to under thirty yards, Mercer saw an opportunity to take a clean shot. He took aim with his HK 416D rifle and fired two rounds, but Vallejos was able to avoid being hit due to a tree absorbing the rounds. His own instincts took over, causing him to return retaliatory fire. Those rounds also missed their intended target, but forced Mercer to take cover for a moment.

Peering from behind a tree, he exposed himself, giving Vallejos an opportunity to end the chase. The bullet shattered the tree bark about four inches above Mercer’s head, triggering an immediate return to cover.

Mercer took a deep breath and readied himself to advance once more. Leaving his position of cover, he was able to see Vallejos retreating once again into the thick woodland. There was a slight ridge ahead that would allow for cover if he could make it, but Mercer wanted to take another shot before his target disappeared over the crest.

Without hesitation, he raised his weapon and took aim between the sights. Squeezing the trigger twice, he witnessed the back of Vallejos’ right upper leg explode as the rounds registered a direct hit. He cautiously proceeded with his advancement from there, but was once again halted as three more rounds of fire were returned.

He tried to get off another burst of rounds, but Vallejos had crawled over the ridge and disappeared from view. Knowing his foe was wounded, he advanced quickly towards the rim of the hill in an effort to regain visual contact. Upon arrival to the top, it wasn’t Vallejos he witnessed, but instead, it was the bodies of countless men and women lying in a mass grave.

The view was abysmal and he stood in shock at the spectacle before him. He snapped himself out of his momentary lapse as he realized he was still in a dogfight of his own. Doing a quick scan of the area, he was unable to spot Vallejos. He realized the dictator could not have made an escape that quickly with an injured leg. He was somewhere close by.

He walked on the outer edge of the gravesite, carefully observing every detail of his surroundings. If Vallejos was here, he wouldn’t hesitate to use the element of surprise to his advantage.

Keeping his eyes and mind focused, he continued walking by the many dead bodies, some of which were badly decayed. Halfway down the long stretch of corpses, he was brought to a stop by a voice from behind.

“Drop your weapon, Mr. Mercer. Do it now.”

He turned to see Vallejos, who was standing atop the bodies in the shallow pit.

“Hiding among the dead, Andres? That’s in bad taste…even for you.”

Vallejos reiterated his request. “I will shoot you. Drop your weapon now.”

Mercer lowered the rifle to his side and dropped it to the ground, and then said, “It would appear we are at a crossroads. This is going to end badly for one of us.”

“I am the one with the gun pointed at you. The ending will be a sad one for you and you alone.”

Mercer tried to stall the inevitable for a moment to give him a chance to think of a way out of his current predicament. “I think it’s ironic that you’re standing in the middle of one of the graves your regime is responsible for, especially seeing that this is where you’ll end up yourself very soon.”

“Your empty threats mean nothing to me. It is you who will be joining these people, and only I will know where your final resting place will be.”

“Well, just remember to come and visit once in a while,” Mercer quipped.

Vallejos was not amused by the comment. “You have proven to be a worthy adversary. But now I must leave you, as I am sure you know I have other matters to attend to.”

Mercer stood frozen, waiting for the round to hit him. There was a brief second where he thought he could charge the dictator and catch him off guard, but before he could react, he heard the click of the pistol.

There was no noise, only silence. For a moment, he thought he had been hit, causing the world around him to go still. The look on Vallejos’ face disproved that theory as he was just now realizing his pistol was out of ammunition. Panic set in and he went to reach for his knife.

Mercer saw his window of opportunity and reached for the holster attached to his waist. The entire sequence took less than three seconds. Vallejos was still fumbling for his knife when a single shot rang out, striking him in the forehead.

The last thing Vallejos would ever see before everything went black was the man who had caused him so much havoc over recent days. The ruthless cartel leader fell to the ground face down and his limp body came to rest in the same pit of despair he had sentenced so many others to.

***

Vigil and Hunt were engaged in light conversation as Mercer came walking back up to the spot where they had separated earlier. They both stood up to greet him while keeping a watchful eye on the captive soldiers who remained huddled around one another.

“It’s good to see you in one piece,” said Hunt. “What about Vallejos?”

“He’s done. We don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

Hunt nodded in understanding and patted his Special Operations Director on the shoulder, who in turn looked to Vigil.

“And Esperanza? Where’s he at?”

Vigil looked off into the trees and pointed with a raise of his head.

“He’s back there. I don’t expect he’ll be walking out any time soon.”

Mercer let out a sigh of relief. The tension that had mounted over the past few days seemed to be lifted off his shoulders and he was able to breathe again. He looked over at the corralled soldiers, who all had the fear of death in their eyes.

Hunt asked, “What do you think we should do with them?”

Mercer looked at the beaten men. They looked like kids who never got a chance at a better life. They were wounded, scared, and could most likely be blown over by a stiff wind at this point.

“Let them go,” he said. “They’ve been through enough and we can use them to deliver a message for us.”

He received no argument from his superior. They understood the delicacy of the moment and were in complete agreement with allowing them to leave unharmed. Mercer walked over and knelt down beside the soldiers.

“Do any of you speak English?”

They all raised their hands without saying a word, unsure of what the American had planned for them.

“We’re going to let you leave. There are trucks back at the road you can take to go back to your compound. You won’t be harmed, but I need you to deliver a very detailed message when you return.”

Some of the stress left their bodies as they realized they were in no further danger for the time being. The sandy haired man continued talking.

“Go back and tell your friends that your boss is dead. Vallejos and Esperanza no longer control this area and if we need to, we’ll come back and finish off every last one of you. So, do the right thing and go back to your homes. Do you think you can handle what I just said?”

Still digesting what they were just told about their leaders being dead, they nodded simultaneously. Then, Mercer untied them and allowed their departure, which they made hastily.

“That was very ambassador-like of you,” Vigil commented. “Maybe you could run for office down here.”

Hunt interrupted, “Pat, if I had a choice, I’d leave
you
down here instead.”

Vigil quipped back, “Nah, no hockey and not enough golfing. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Watching the soldiers walk off in the dark and under the aid of one another, Mercer turned back to the hole that the soldiers had already started digging.

“Well, there’s twenty thousand pounds of gold somewhere under there,” he said. “Now, all we have to do is figure out how to get it up to the surface.”

34

The morning sun’s rays were streaking through the leaves, creating various bright spots on the forest floor. Mercer woke to find Hunt placing explosive charges around the perimeter of the hole. The tree he slept against provided little comfort throughout the night and his body was now feeling the effects. To no surprise, Vigil was still sound asleep and snoring as usual.

“I don’t know how you can sleep through that racket,” said Hunt. “I’ve heard bad mufflers that are quieter than he is.”

“I’ve had many years to get used to it. I don’t even hear it anymore.”

Hunt looked over at Vigil and joked, “If I had a pillow, I would suffocate him.”

Mercer let out a laugh. He realized this was the first time in over a week that he didn’t feel like he had to look over his shoulder constantly, which was a very welcome feeling. He stood up to stretch his limbs and let the sun hit his face.

Hunt was putting the finishing touches on the explosive devices. “We should be ready to go in just a bit, Sean. Everything is set, but if this doesn’t work, we’ll have to wait a few days to get a team down here.”

“Let’s just hope it works then,” remarked Mercer.

Still stretching his arms, he noticed some movement off in the distance through the trees. He instantly retrieved his rifle.

“Colonel, we have company.”

He ran over and kicked his partner in the leg to wake him, all while keeping his eyes focused on the advancing threat. Vigil opened his eyes to see everyone in a scramble.

“If you’re done with your beauty sleep, I could use you right about now,” said Mercer.

Vigil knew something was about to take place that would require his full attention. He immediately went into operative mode.

He asked his partner, “What ya got?”

“Not sure. Looks like a bunch of Vallejos’ men coming our way. This could get ugly if they’re out for revenge.”

“Sean,” Hunt called from behind. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

There was no time for a response or a course of action. Within seconds, the soldiers were within just a few yards of them and there was no chance for retreat.

One of the soldiers advanced towards Mercer, who was caught off guard by the approach since the young man didn’t appear to be holding a weapon.

“You are Sean Mercer?”

Dumbfounded by the event taking place, Mercer tried to rationalize the situation, but couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Yes, I am. What’s this about?”

“Mr. Mercer, my name is Jesus Paneria. You and I have a mutual friend. His name is Julian Navarro.”

Mercer looked curiously at the man who was addressing him. The soldier continued.

“Vallejos dragged Julian’s body through the compound to show what happens to traitors of the regime. I could do nothing at the time, as I am sure you can understand. I was sick within myself at the sight of it. When I heard about what you did to those bastards, I rounded up as many men as I could to come and help you.”

Mercer stood speechless while taking in the unexpected twist of events. Unable to utter a word, and admiring the unselfishness of the young man before him, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Jesus. Then, the words finally came to him.

“I’m truly sorry for the loss of your friend. Julian was a good young man who left us way too soon. Can all of these men be trusted? I’m sure you understand why I have to ask.”

“These men are not loyal to Vallejos. They did what they had to in order to stay alive. With him gone, we are no longer under the threat of a regime we do not believe in. Whatever you need, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Hunt came up behind Mercer and greeted the soldier. “Jesus, my name is Alan Hunt. We are grateful you’re here and are forever in your debt.”

Pleasantries were exchanged between the men and, shortly thereafter, they gathered for a briefing about what would take place during the excavation of the gold. In just under an hour, all preparations were made. They were ready to set off the charges that would dismantle the upper layers of rock and hardened lava which had blanketed the ground for well over a century. Everyone stood by in anticipation of the explosion.

Before blowing the C4 charges, Mercer waved Jesus over and handed him the trigger mechanism. A befuddled look came over the young man’s face, as he was unsure of exactly what to do with it.

“Just flip that lever and press the button,” Mercer told him in a calming voice. “Trust me. There is no feeling like the one you get from blowing stuff up. You should get to have some of the fun too.”

Jesus did as he was instructed and detonated the explosives, sending echoes through the forest. Appreciative that one of their own was able to set off the charge, the soldiers began clapping and cheering at the sight of rock and dirt being flung through the air. Jesus, who was still holding the detonator, was wide-eyed with excitement at what he had just witnessed.

When the dust settled and the applause had subsided, Mercer, Hunt and Vigil walked to the edge of the newly formed crater and looked into the earth. The smiles on their faces could be seen by the soldiers who had remained back for the moment. It was Jesus who finally stepped forward to see what the happy faces were all grinning about.

“Did it work, Mr. Mercer?”

Mercer put his arm around Jesus and gave him a friendly squeeze.

“Oh, it worked, my friend. It worked indeed.”

***

The crumbled rock and dirt took very little time to remove with the help of Jesus and the other soldiers. In just under an hour, they reached an object that was neither rock nor volcanic ash. At first glance, the soldier who had hit it with his shovel was unsure of exactly what it was. He called Mercer over to examine it.

As the layer of dirt on top of the object was brushed away, it revealed a wooden plank. Mercer’s eyes widened with excitement at the thought of this being the cache they had painstakingly sought after. As more of the dirt was wiped away, it created an outline of a thick wooden crate about ten feet in diameter. He asked the soldier for his shovel, who complied by handing it over, and then he wedged the tip in between the sides of the planks.

With every ounce of force he could muster, he twisted and pried at the boards. He was amazed at the strength of the wooden planks and that they were still intact after the blast they must have endured. After a few twists and turns of the shovel, he heard a loud squeak which signified the cracking of the wood. One of the planks split apart and left an opening big enough to fit a hand into.

He wriggled his hand in through the side and pulled out a piece of its contents. He turned to the men above him who were anxiously awaiting a visual on the article that had been removed. They didn’t have to wait long as the American held up an object which hadn’t seen the light of day in one hundred and fifty five years – a bar made purely of gold.

Vigil and Hunt were equally amazed at the view as everyone else. They embraced each other in a hearty hug. Hunt was unable to hide his emotion.

“You did it! You guys really did it!”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Vigil. “It’s like finding the Holy Grail!”

Mercer took a moment to remember all the people who had lost their lives during the ordeal leading up to this point. He thought of the men and women who were buried by the volcanic eruption, the people in the mass graves, and the people they had come to know, and lose, over recent days. He was relieved it was finally over.

The celebratory hugs continued for a while longer, and then it was on to the business of digging the remainder of the hole around the crates. The rest of the day was spent clearing the area of debris and removing the gold while the soldiers formed a line from the inside of the crater to the top.

The process continued well into the night and throughout the next forty eight hours as the men rotated shifts to do the excavating. Once all the gold was extracted, they transported it to the airport to be sent back stateside. Hunt had called in a favor and requisitioned a C130J Super Hercules aircraft to use as conveyance for the gold. Then, they made arrangements for the trip home themselves.

***

Two days later, while the rest of the NESA team headed to the airport to make preparations for departure, Mercer detoured for one last visit to some newfound friends. The ride gave him time to reflect on the recent discovery of the gold.

The loss of life caused by Vallejos over the years had taken its toll on the surrounding communities. The resolve of the locals during these trying times was now stronger than ever since the vicious dictator was gone and no longer posed a threat to them. Mercer was extremely grateful for the help he had received throughout his time of struggle in recent days and felt one final trip to a local village was necessary.

He arrived at a familiar hut he had first come to know a short while back as the home of Anthony Mendoza. At his request, Jesus Paneria was already waiting outside, sitting on a step and soaking up the warmth of the sun’s rays.

The two new acquaintances shared a warm embrace and a few brief words before Mercer returned to the Jeep to recover a duffel bag in the back seat. Upon arriving back to the stairs of Mendoza’s hut, he placed the bag down and asked Jesus to have a seat.

“We couldn’t have removed all that gold without the assistance of you and your friends,” he stated. “I just want you to know I am extremely grateful for all of your help.”

“It was the least we could do, Mr. Mercer. There has been a great cloud lifted from over our land and we only have you and your employer to thank for that.”

Mercer was appreciative of Jesus’ comment. “I know it’s going to take time to recover from many years of the cartel’s actions, but what’s in this bag should help to get you and your people well on the way to feeling some sense of normalcy.”

With a perplexed look on his face, Jesus looked down at the duffel bag, unsure of what the statement meant exactly. Mercer gave him a nod, assuring him it was okay to look in the mysterious sack.

When he unzipped it, an overwhelming emotion came upon him, as he was suddenly face to face with sixteen of the gold bars that had been retrieved from the jungle a few days earlier.

“Mr. Mercer, you are a very generous man. I do not have the words to express how I feel right now.”

“There is just over one and a half million dollars of United States currency in that bag. I will make sure it gets converted into the proper legal tender, but I want you to take it and distribute it among your people. Use it for crops, housing or whatever needs to be done. Just make sure these people are taken care of. Can you promise me that?”

There was still a look of bewilderment in the eyes of the young man as he took in the moment. He was truly touched by the words and generosity of the American.

“You have my sincerest word, Mr. Mercer. The people of this community are forever in your debt. What will you do now?”

“Me? I’m going to hop on a plane, go back home and reunite with one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. After that, I’ll probably sleep for a week to recover from all of this.”

Jesus smiled. “I am sure there is no way I could ever repay the favor of what you have done for us. But, I am always at your call should you need a good man in Nicaragua.”

“You are indeed a good man, Jesus. You take care of yourself and these people, and that will be favor enough for me.”

Both men stood up and shared a final embrace. Before departing for the airport, Mercer turned to take one final look at the home of Mendoza. It was a brief friendship he would remember for a lifetime and he was glad to have gotten to know the old man.

After one more final wave to Jesus, he was off and driving down the dirt road, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

***

As they prepared to take off back to the Pacific Northwest, Hunt was going over some final details with the pilot. Mercer and Vigil were sitting near the back of the jet enjoying a beer when Vigil pulled a tattered shirt from his duffel bag and slid it across the table to his friend.

Mercer had a curious look on his face. “And what is this?”

“Just a little something I picked up from the souvenir shop.”

Mercer unraveled the shirt to reveal what was hidden inside. Somberness came over him as he looked down at the port log which started the whole journey they had recently embarked on. He was touched by the gesture of his friend.

“Pat, I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”

“If there was anyone the old man would want to have the book, it would be you.”

The two friends sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the memory of Anthony Mendoza. They were so caught up in their recollection that they never even noticed the jet speeding down the runway and lifting off into the clear blue sky.