Remi waited soundlessly near the stairwell opening, ears straining for any sound, the high ring from the gunfire dampening her hearing. Antonio crawled to her side and whispered, “What should I do?”
“Shoot down the stairs when I do.”
She returned to listening, certain that Reginald and Guerrero were making their way up the passageway. And then Reginald, on the steps below Guerrero, switched on his flashlight to avoid falling. Guerrero hissed at him to turn it off, but it was enough—Remi had been able to make them out. She loosed four shots into the gap. Antonio fired three times beside her, the ricochets bouncing off the stone as the stairwell became a killing field. She heard a groan as a body hit the stones hard. She fired two more shots for good measure and was rewarded with a terse exclamation and then the sound of boots pounding down the stairs.
Reginald’s distinctive voice cursed again and she heard a body fall, bouncing as it slid down the steps. Reginald had turned tail in the darkness, lost his footing, and fallen the rest of the way.
“Are you all right?” Sam called from his position by the entry.
“Never better!” Remi answered.
“I . . . think so,” Antonio said.
Lazlo moaned from near the skeletons. Remi peered in his direction.
“Lazlo,” she whispered.
“I . . . I’m . . . hit.” Lazlo’s voice was a croak.
“How bad?” Sam asked.
“A bloody . . . bullet . . . hit me. How much . . . worse . . . does it get?”
“Where?”
Lazlo coughed, “Shoulder.”
“Hang on. This will be over in seconds.” She turned to Antonio. “Do whatever Sam tells you to, do you understand?”
Antonio nodded. “What are you going to do?”
Another volley of shots pelted the temple doorway. Remi cringed and ducked her head. Sam’s Russian rifle answered the fire, its staccato bark music to her ears. She glanced back at the stair opening and her eyes narrowed looking into the darkness.
“Finish this.”
During a lull in the shooting, Remi ran in a crouch to Sam and told him what she was planning to do.
“I’m going to take him down, Sam. We either wounded or killed the cartel guy, so it’s only Reginald and Maribela. And I’ve got a score to settle with her.”
“Remi. Think this through. Just wait up here. Eventually they’ll have to come up the stairs. Take them then.”
“I don’t like them down there with the emerald.”
“It’s not like they can go anywhere with it.”
She thought for a few moments and nodded. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But for the record, I’m in favor of doing a Sam Fargo—going in with guns blazing.”
“Noted. And I’m not ruling that out. I just don’t like a situation where you’re on the stairs and Reginald is shooting from a position of safety. That’s asking for it.”
“You made your point. What are you planning to do?”
“They’ve got us pinned down. It’s a stalemate. We can’t leave, but they can’t get in. My goal is to hold them off until the guards show up from the nuke plant. It won’t be much longer with all this gunfire.”
“Let’s hope so. We don’t actually know how long they’ll take. And there could be more cartel goons on the way. In fact, the nuclear staff might be under instructions not to leave the grounds in case this is just a diversion for a frontal attack.”
Sam looked at where Antonio was crouched, pistol in hand. “Antonio, does your cell phone work in here? Do you have a signal?”
He fished it out of his pocket. “I do.”
“Call someone. Get the entire Mexican military here. Now. Explain the situation. We need the cavalry to come over the hill.”
Antonio punched in the emergency number and spoke in low tones as Sam and Remi kept watching the brush outside the temple. When he hung up, he didn’t look confident.
“They wanted me to stay on the line. I told them I couldn’t but that they needed to get an armed group presence out here immediately. And an air evac for casualties. The operator said she’d do the best she could.”
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Remi said.
“They’ll send someone—the only question is how long it takes.” Antonio hesitated. “What are you going to do about Reginald and my sister?”
“All we can do is wait. It’s suicide to go down those stairs.”
“But Maribela could be hurt. Or he could be using her for a hostage.”
Remi touched his hand. “Antonio. Think. There was a gunshot that started all this. And only two people were on the stairs—Reginald and Guerrero.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Antonio.”
“She might be wounded . . . like Lazlo.”
Sam nodded. “It’s possible. But there’s nothing we can do right now. We need to hold off these men until help arrives. Then the professionals can take care of Reginald. We’ll see how he fares against heavily armed soldiers in full battle gear.”
Lazlo groaned from the floor.
“How’re you doing, Lazlo?” Sam asked, eyes continually scanning the grounds for signs of life.
“Not . . . great.”
Remi crawled over to him. She saw the bullet wound.
“Lazlo, help’s on the way. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Good . . . show . . .”
More shooting slammed into the stone entryway, sending chips flying. Sam popped off a shot at the orange blossom of the shooter’s muzzle blast as Remi returned. “Let me have that thing. I’m the marksman, remember?”
“I’ve done pretty well so far.”
“They’re still out there and shooting. Come on, I’ll swap you. AK for a nearly new Beretta nine. Such a deal.”
Sam did as she asked and hefted the pistol. “I’m not sure what I’ll be able to accomplish with this peashooter.”
“Don’t worry. Fire off a couple of shots, see if you can draw them out.”
Sam squeezed off two rounds. When the gunman outside opened up, Remi kept her head down until he was done and then fired three shots in quick succession.
No fire answered. She turned to Sam and gave him a small smile. “Never send a man—”
“To do a woman’s job. I know. You think you got him?”
“Pretty sure. But there may be more out there.”
“Want to risk trying a breakout?”
“It would be safer to stay here and wait for the military to show,” Remi said. She looked around. “Where’s Antonio?”
Sam turned to scan the darkened interior of temple. “He was just here.”
Remi cursed. “Idiot. He went down after Reginald. I knew it.” She handed Sam back the rifle. “Give me the Beretta.”
“Remi. Just because Antonio wants to commit hara-kiri doesn’t mean you should.”
“He’s doing what I should have.”
“No, he’s doing something really stupid you shouldn’t be involved in.”
“Hold that thought, Fargo.”
“Remi . . .”
She covered the distance to the stairs in seconds and was out of sight before Sam could do anything to stop her. She felt her way along, gun held in front of her. There hadn’t been any more shooting from below—at least that was a positive. She also didn’t sense Antonio in front of her, which meant he’d turned the corner and was in the passageway to the cave.
Remi passed Guerrero’s corpse, knelt down, and felt around until she found his pistol. She slid it into the waist of her pants at the small of her back and continued down the steps until she reached the landing. The faint glow from the work lamp was a little brighter there and she could barely make out the pictograph as she leaned against the stone wall and prepared to turn the corner.
She ducked around low, in a crouch, presenting as small a target as possible. Nothing. Step by careful step, she crept forward, eyes adjusting to the low light, gun scanning the passage as she made her way forward. She listened and heard only the soft dripp
ing of water somewhere in the cave.
Remi swung into the cavern, leading with her gun, and froze when she saw Reginald at the far side, standing behind Antonio, his gun pointed at Antonio’s head.
“Drop it or I blow his head off,” Reginald said.
“Shoot him. He killed Maribela,” Antonio hissed.
Reginald shook his head. “It wasn’t me. It was Guerrero,” he lied.
Antonio tried to struggle free. “Shoot him.”
“Give me one reason not to, Reginald,” Remi said, taking another step into the chamber.
“I’ll kill him. I swear I will.”
Another step. “And why should I care? I drop my gun, you’ll just shoot me.”
“This has all gone wrong. I just want to get out of this alive. Don’t make me kill him.” Reginald paused, then shouted at Remi, “You have five seconds and then you’ll be wearing his brains!”
Remi lowered her weapon. “Easy, Reginald. I believe you. If you shoot us, Sam will cut you down when you try to come up the stairs. You’ll be deader than Elvis before you make it three feet.” She saw a flicker in his eyes.
“Shut up and drop the gun.”
“Shoot him now,” Antonio pleaded.
“I’m putting the gun down.” Remi slowly knelt, her eyes never leaving Reginald’s. She saw the moment of triumph she’d been waiting for when she set the gun on the stone floor and began straightening up.
Reginald moved his gun from Antonio’s head to point at Remi as he sneered in victory. “You stupid cow—”
He never saw her other hand slip behind her and grip Guerrero’s gun, all his attention focusing on her eyes and the hand that was placing the Beretta on the floor.
Her left-handed shot caught Reginald high in the shoulder, inches from Antonio’s chest. He spun from the force of the shot shattering his scapula as Antonio threw himself on Reginald and started to beat him with angered fury at the death of his sister. Reginald’s pistol dropped on the floor and Remi raced toward it as Antonio and he fell together. She kicked it out of reach as Sam’s voice called out from the entryway.
“Remi. You’re okay!”
“Of course I am, Fargo.”
Sam handed his rifle to Lazlo, who was leaning shakily against the passage wall, and moved to break up the fight. By the time he reached Antonio, he’d stopped battering Reginald, a glazed look in his eyes as he gripped the younger man’s shirt.
Reginald’s head slumped forward as he lost consciousness. Sam eyed Reginald and nodded at Antonio. “Doesn’t look like he’ll be a problem anytime soon. How about you?”
“He killed my sister,” Antonio seethed.
“I’m sorry, Antonio. I really am,” Sam said. “But you need to let the authorities deal with him.”
Antonio gazed down at Reginald’s battered face as if coming out of a trance and released him. He stood slowly, looking at his swelling knuckles as if considering finishing the job on Reginald.
Sam stepped forward. “This isn’t the way,” he said. “I need you focused if we’re going to survive until help arrives. Pull yourself together.”
“I’m just shaken,” Antonio replied, slowly calming down. “What about the cartel gunmen?”
“I heard two heavy vehicles arriving. If I were them, I’d be long gone. My hunch is that they’re not going to want to take on whatever just showed up.” Sam studied Antonio. “Let’s head back upstairs just in case. Security should be here any minute. They’re probably on their way from the parking area down by the road.”
Antonio looked around the chamber and his eyes locked on his sister’s body.
Lazlo moved into the cave and stood in front of Maribela to break Antonio’s concentration.
Sam leaned down and scooped up Antonio’s revolver, pocketed it, and then took him by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go topside to greet the welcoming committee.”
Remi followed Sam and Antonio out and up the stairs. As they climbed the steps, Remi looked back.
“Lazlo? Are you all right?” she called.
His voice rang out from the doorway. “Have no fear, I’m right behind you.”
When they neared the top, Sam switched on his flashlight, the pistol in his right hand sweeping the room. He stopped abruptly at the top step.
“Sam. What is it?” Remi asked in a hushed whisper.
Saw stood motionless before turning his head and whispering through clenched teeth, “It’s Janus. He’s gone.”
Gone?” Remi said.
“He was right here when I went down to get you. He must have come to. Either that or he was faking and waiting for a chance to escape.”
“You have to catch him. He can’t get away with this,” Antonio growled.
“I’m way ahead of you. I’m going after him.”
Remi stepped out of the stairwell. “Sam, are you sure about this? There are a lot of guns lying around out there . . .”
“He’s not going to escape. If I know him, the last thing he wants is a gun battle. That’s not his style.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Remi demanded.
He handed her the guard’s Beretta and removed the revolver from the guard’s pocket. “Here’s more firepower. If anyone but me or the police shows up, start shooting and don’t stop.”
“You never answered my question.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Sam shut off his flashlight and moved to the temple entrance. He paused, trying to sense any menace, and then threw himself out, rolling on the flattened grass as he waited for bullets to pound the ground around him.
Nothing.
He scanned the area, noting now he was outside there was more moonlight than he’d thought, and, seeing nothing, considered which direction the Englishman would have taken.
It was no contest. Janus would never choose to walk into the hands of his adversaries.
Sam eyed the ground as he moved away from the temple and came across a dead gunman, his pistol case on his belt open and empty—confirming that Janus was now armed. Sam followed a small trail that the gunmen had used for their approach, stepping softly, careful not to provide Janus with a warning that he was being followed.
Waves pounded the shore below the cliff that was no more than ten yards away and he could smell salt in the air as he pushed deeper into the brush, stopping occasionally to listen in case Janus was blundering along like a wounded ox. But there was only the crash of the surf.
Sam plunged through vine-covered trees over a thick curtain of brush that eventually opened onto a small circular clearing. The clearing ended at the rocky cliffs, high above the pounding surf. Too late, he saw Janus up ahead in the eerie glow of the moon.
Janus stood facing Sam with a pistol aimed at his head, a mere thirty feet between them.
The mouse had turned on the cat.
In the blink of an eye, Sam raised the revolver to firing position. “It’s over, Janus. Throw down your weapon.”
“I don’t think so,” Janus said, a tight smile across his face. “We have what is appropriately called a Mexican standoff.”
“Call it what you may,” Sam said, “you’re still going to pay for your killing of innocent people.”
“I never killed anybody.” Janus’s voice was clear, his tone frigid.
“Liar.”
Janus shrugged. “Believe what you like. There’s no blood on my hands.”
“Maybe you didn’t personally murder anyone, but you’re the cause behind a long trail of dead bodies.”
“Not my doing, old chap. Really. I wasn’t in control of the situation—regrettably, my Mexican associate took matters into his own hands. Like I said, the natives here do things differently. Senseless. Most regrettable.”
“You could have stopped it,” Sam spat.
Janus shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. My position was compromised due to my brother’s misstep. Could have been the death of me, too. I’m afraid there was a limit to my influence. Not my doing, but there it is.”
br /> The distant beat of a helicopter came from the sea. Neither Sam nor Janus spoke as the sound became louder and a spotlight shot through the gloom, framing them in its glare.
“Mexican authorities,” said Sam. “I hope you enjoy your ride to prison.”
To Sam’s surprise, Janus laughed in a gloating tone. “Yes, I’ll enjoy the ride, but it won’t end in a Mexican prison. It will be to my yacht, which is in international waters.”
Sam was angered by the cocky reply, but when he saw the helicopter was bright blue instead of military khaki, he knew Janus wasn’t bluffing. “I can shoot you before you board.”
Janus stared at Sam in silence and then dropped his pistol. He shrugged and slowly turned to face the helicopter, his back to Sam. The helicopter set down and two armed men leapt from the aircraft, their weapons trained on Sam.
Sam continued to keep his weapon aimed at Janus even though he was outgunned. “One day you’ll pay for your crimes.”
Janus walked toward the aircraft. When he neared it, he stopped, turned to Sam, and called out over the noise of the rotor blades, “As I said, I don’t kill. Not even you, Sam Fargo.”
“At least you didn’t get the Eye of Heaven.”
“True,” Janus shouted above the thumping sound. “But there will come another time when a treasure will bring us together.” He turned and boarded the chopper as Sam stood frozen.
Sam watched as it lifted from the clearing and turned over the cliffs toward the sea. “Yes,” he said softly to himself, “there will come another time.”
Sam lowered the revolver as his eyes followed the darkened aircraft disappear into the night, leaving him alone on the bluff. The breeze tugged at his clothes as he made his way slowly back to the temple.
When he reached the entryway, Remi ran out and threw her arms around him. He hugged her for a long moment and then pulled back.
“He got away.”
Remi’s eyes radiated confusion. “He escaped? How?”