“I’m afraid we didn’t see them. They were apparently well armed with explosives and automatic weapons.”
“While this is a peaceful area, the drug gangs in our country are out of control. A territorial dispute, I fear. I am sorry the U.S. aid team was involved and that you were placed in danger.”
“I just got an unplanned swim in the lake,” Pitt said. “What happened to the dam?”
The civil engineer shook his head. “I’m told the upper half of the main spillway gave way. Funny thing is, that section just underwent a thorough inspection three weeks ago and checked out perfectly.”
“Sabotage?” Pitt asked.
“It’s possible. There were a lot of displaced people when the dam and reservoir were built. And you never know what twisted motivation one of the drug gangs might have.”
“We heard a few loud rumblings before it gave way,” Giordino said. “Sounded a lot like explosives.”
“There will be a full investigation.” He looked at Pitt. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“We just wanted to test the sonar by dragging it over some of the settlements that were flooded when the dam was built. We got a nice look at a submerged village just east of here.” He motioned toward the reservoir.
As he did, a thundering explosion erupted outside, rattling the office windows. Pitt turned to see the grounded workboat explode in a fireball, raining bits of debris in all directions.
“My boat!” The engineer leaped from the desk and bolted out the door.
“My sonar,” Giordino said. He beat Pitt out the door, following Darien to the shoreline, where they watched the remaining hull disintegrate under a veil of black smoke.
“How could this happen?” the engineer asked.
Pitt kicked at a smoldering piece of fiberglass near his feet. “That was too massive an explosion to be an accident.”
“Fuel tanks were about run dry,” Giordino said.
Darien stared at the debris. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Likely the same people who blew up the dam and attacked the aid team.” Pitt wheeled around to see who was nearby.
The gathering of villagers stared at the boat like it was a fireworks display. They all looked shocked.
Pitt, noticing his rental car was blocked by the spectators, turned to Darien. “The girl we brought ashore might be in danger. Can you take us to the clinic?”
The engineer fished through his pocket and handed Pitt the keys. “I’m going to call the police, then see what I can salvage from the boat. You can take my truck. The clinic is a yellow building at the far end of town.”
Pitt and Giordino found the engineer’s pickup truck parked behind the building. Pitt took the wheel and drove the single-lane dirt road toward town. The road wound around a forested hill, then into Suchitoto. It was a small, quaint colonial village with cobblestone streets and a tall whitewashed church at its center, La Iglesia Santa Lucía.
As they entered the town, they passed a well-dressed man wearing a hat and sunglasses walking along the road. Pitt drove past him, took a careful look, then stomped on the brakes. As the truck shuddered to a stop, the man produced a handgun and pumped two quick shots into the cab, then fled down an alley.
Fired at an angle, the bullets had ripped through Pitt’s door, passed beneath his arm on the windowsill, and struck the dashboard. Pitt jammed the truck into reverse and floored it, backing up just enough to turn and pull into the alley.
“How did you know?” Giordino asked as the truck raced after the fleeing figure.
“His shoes. They were covered in fresh mud. He didn’t exactly look like he was dressed to go clamming.”
They gained on the man until he turned the corner into a narrow side street. Pitt threw the truck into a slide to follow, but then stood on the brakes and jerked the wheel to one side.
Filling the cobblestone lane, a half-dozen small boys were engaged in a game of soccer. The speeding truck ground into the stucco side of a corner building, stopping just short of the nearest boy. A few yards ahead, the gunman had already threaded his way past the boys. He glanced toward the damaged truck and ducked into a long brick building.
Giordino flung open his door and jumped to the ground. “Glad to see the team didn’t lose a man. I’ll see if I can cover the back door.” Then he was gone, sprinting around the rear of the building.
With the driver’s door wedged against the wall, Pitt slid across the bench seat and climbed out. The foolishness of chasing an armed man through town flashed through his mind. Maybe the assailant didn’t know he was unarmed. Pitt glanced into the back of the truck, scooped up a hammer lying in the bed, and turned up the street.
The boys playing soccer stared at the tall stranger as he approached the building and paused beneath a hanging sign marked FÁBRICA DE VIDRIO. Pitt stepped to the entrance, eased aside the door handle, and then burst inside.