They shoved the pram farther onto the shore and moments later were back in the hovercraft. They were only moving for a few minutes when the river ended. Austin gave the hovercraft more power to hold it in one place.
"That's the answer to Joe's disappearing river," Trout said "No mystery. It just runs underground." He tried to reach Zavala on the radio but got no answer and assumed they were out of range or the transmission was blocked by the high rocky walls. They decided without hesitation to push ahead. They went in slowly, coming down from their air cushion, Trout illuminating the way with his handheld spotlight.
The vibration and noise created by the thrust propeller unnerved the bats. They came off the roof as if blown by a gust of wind, a squeaking mass of flapping membranous wings and sharp claws. Austin doubled their speed. The hovercraft was on its air cushion again. Both men crouched low in the open cockpit, hardly able to see through the flying swarm of black furry bodies. The craft bounced off the rocky shores several times, but as long as he was able to go forward, Austin kept the pedal to the metal.
Then they were through it and into the clear.
Austin brought the engine down to an idle, and the current moved them ahead.
Are you okay?" he asked.
"My hair will probably go as white as yours, but other than that I'm fine. Let's keep moving."
The sound of the motor was horrendous in the close confines, echoing and reechoing off the rough walls. Austin could only hope that any adversaries they met were stone deaf, because their arrival would have been announced for miles. They moved at a steady dip, throwing up waves on either side, and before long they emerged into. the larger cavern. They made a quick circle of the pool to get their bearings and saw that the river ended again but that there was a canal leading off from it.
The canal ended at a small pier illuminated by a lantern. They tied up next to three prams and left the hovercraft. With their weapons at ready they proceeded along the walkway into the quarry. They stopped to inspect the contents of the boxes, then pressed on. Sunlight was shining faintly in the distance.
37 AUSTIN STOPPED UNDER THE CORBELED archway and listened to the music playing faintly in the distance. A Latin beat. With his back to the wall he edged his way around the corner, CAR-15 held at ready, finger on the trigger. He stuck his head out, scanned the area around the loading platform, and, seeing no one, stepped cautiously into the glare of daylight. He signaled Trout to follow With Austin still at point they moved silently along the narrow dirt road, staying close to the foliage on the side.
Near where a rutted track into the woods left the main road they melted into the bushes and got down on their hands and knees. They crawled parallel to the track, then dropped to their bellies and slithered to the edge of a cleared area. Austin inched forward and peered through the tall grass. Trout's hand gripped his shoulder, but Austin had already seen the mop of hair that was the hue of fine red wine: Gamay. She was tied to the rear bumper of a battered GMC truck Her face was the color of boiled lobster, skin peeled off her sunburned nose, and her crowning glory was a tangle of greasy curls, but otherwise she seemed ail right. Next to her was an Indian man who must be Dr. Chi. Gamay had her eyes closed, but she opened them and looked cautiously around as if she sensed their presence.
Austin quickly took in the rest of the scene. The source of the music was a portable boom box perched on the bed of the truck. Sitting on the ground behind the truck were three men engrossed in a game of cards. Their weapons lay within arm's reach, and all three men wore pistols. Austin's eye traveled to the front of the truck to where a fourth man was working on the engine. He, too, wore a pistol, but more worrisome was the AK 47 leaning up against a tire. Austin signaled Trout to back up Paul nodded, understanding the need to reconnoiter, but the disappointment in his face was obvious.
Minutes later they leaned up against a tree and assessed the situation.
"We've got four armed men who would ordinarily be no problem up against the weapons we're carrying," Austin said. "But Gamay and Dr. Chi are directly in the line of fire. I don't like the idea of the fourth man separated from the others. He's got an AK right at hand. He could still cause damage. Any suggestions?"
"We could call in reinforcements," Trout said, patting the walkietalkie at his belt. "But even if they got here soon, that would mean more shooting, more chance of someone getting hurt"
"My sentiments exactly." Austin scratched the stubble on his chin. "Gamay and Chi seem to be okay, which means someone wants them kept alive, for now at least."
"My guess is that they'll move out. as soon as they fix their mechanical problem."
"That's when the situation will get fluid. The card game will break up, and the guards may move out of the line of fire. Or maybe we will get our chance when they put Gamay and Chi in the truck. Once they're out of the way we can make our move."
There's another possibility," Trout said. "More of these guys could show up."
"I know that we'd be trading a known situation for an unknown, and I don't like it any more than you do, but I don't think there's anything else we can do except wait."
Trout nodded inreluctant agreement. They crawled back to the edge of the clearing. The card game was still in progress, and the mechanic continued to fiddle around with the engine. Austin was glad to see that Gamay and Chi. both had their eyes open. He suppressed the surge of anger he felt at their plight.
Long after Austin had decided he never wanted to hear Latin music again, the mechanic backed out from under the hood, wiped his hand on a greasy rag, and got into the cab. The engine started on the first try, filling the air with an unmuffled rumbling. A cloud of purple smoke poured out of the exhaust pipe and enveloped Gamay and Chi, who turned their heads from side to side in a vain attempt to escape the fumes.
The card game was cut short. The players grabbed their money, scrambled to their feet, and with hands over their mouths and noses moved away from the rear of the truck. And their weapons, Austin noted with pleasure. They started yelling at the mechanic, who had just hopped out of the cab. When he saw that the guards were not showing the proper enthusiasm for his accomplishment, he went over and grabbed the nearest one by his collar, angrily dragged him to the front of the truck, and exhorted him to listen to the motor. The remaining guards broke out in laughter and joined the others.
"Show time," Austin said.
The essentials for a successful ambush are surprise and concealment. They could have mowed the chicleros down with a single sweep of their carb
ines, but Austin was into rescue, not murder. He and Trout stood up and strode casually into the clearing. Trout let off short bursts of fire in the air, while Austin kept the chicleros covered. The object was intimidation. The gunfire had the desired effect. At least partly. The three guards saw the two terminators walking toward them; glanced at their useless weapons, then back at the hard-eyed white-haired man and his towering companion, and scattered into the forest like leaves before a wind.
The mechanic dove into the cab, threw the truck into gear, and mashed the accelerator. The spinning tires gouged trenches in the ground and threw out twin showers of dirt. With a roar of the engine the truck started out of the clearing, dragging Gamay and Chi behind like tin cans on a honey-moon-bound car. Music still blasted from the boom box on the truck's bed.
Austin shouted for Trout to cover the departing chicleros and drew the Bower from his hip with the speed of a Dodge City gunfighter. Holding it in both hands, he coolly sighted on the rear of the cab. The barrel belched fire five times, and the cab window disintegrated in an explosion of glass. The last shots were unnecessary because the first bullet had taken off the back of the driver's head.
The trick went on for another few yards as if it were on auto pilot, but it finally lurched to a stop as the engine staled. Austin ran for the truck. But Trout got there ahead of him, quickly sliced through Gamay's bonds with a hunting knife, and took his wife in his arms.
Cambridge, Massachusetts