Trees Hold Up the Sky 21 William James Johnson

General Obispo was resplendent in his white uniform, trimmed in gold braid. Leaning back in his pliant leather chair, he buzzed his secretary. He was wearing his dress uniform to attend the graduation ceremonies at his son's private school in Bogota, where only the kin of the elite were enrolled, to give the formal address on behalf of the government.

"Rosarita, I would like you to draft a letter to Mr. Harold Runciman, Secretary of State of the United States of America."

"Si Mister Secretary. Do you wish to begin now?"

"Ah yes. I will give you my thoughts on the matter, and I will expect you to put it into good English like you always do. You are my right hand Rosa." She smiled at his praise. She had been his secretary for twelve years, since he had become Chief-of-Staff of the Colombian Drug Enforcement Agency.

"I would like you to say something like this...Mr. Secretary, I am pleased to announce that the San Fernando Cave project is proceeding at a real good rate...no wait. This is where you come in."

"May I suggest you say 'Progress at the San Fernando project is very encouraging," suggested Rosarita.

"Not strong enough. You see Rosa, I want the gringos to come through with a lot more money. We've got to make them think great things are happening down here."

"Are you still getting messages from Miss Garvas?"

"Of course. That was probably one of the smartest things I ever did. She is a true patriot."

"What do you think she will do if she finds out her father has died?"

Obispo slapped his desk with a resounding smack. "Never...and I say it again, never is she to hear about this."

"I just thought..."

"You're not paid to think. I do the thinking, and you correct my English. You know what I expect of you. Go back to your office and have something ready for my signature before the end of the day."

"I will sir. I'm sorry I brought up the subject."

"I am too. And while you are at it, call transport and notify my aide we'll be leaving for my son's school in thirty minutes."

When she left his office, he went into his washroom behind the teak paneling. Closing the door behind him, he turned smartly to view himself in a full length mirror attached to the rear of the door. Sucking in his stomach, he tugged at the bottom of his tunic, and smoothed out the wrinkles. He reached into the small cabinet above the sink and took out a hand mirror. Turning sideways, he confirmed his appearance was all he wanted it to be. He tried it with his hat on and off. He was convinced that in time, his splendid image would be known throughout the world. He would use the weapons sent by Uncle Sam to fight drugs, to take over his government.

At the cave site Jess and Estrelle were drafting her routine message to Obispo.

"What if I tell him that Laura feels that there is a visual glossary which will help in breaking the code," she asked.

"I don't think so," said Jess. "That might make him want to interfere too soon. We've got several weeks of collecting data ahead of us. Why not tell him that much of the mural has deteriorated with time, and we may never know the whole story of what it means?"

"Don't you think he might want to send someone to check and see if we are telling the truth."

"Maybe so...wait I got it. Tell him that there is so much here, that we may have to be working on this for years. As long as American money keeps coming in for the project, I'm sure Obispo will be happy."

"Sure. And I could say we have found new passage ways which are covered with murals."

"And that's the truth. I wouldn't be afraid of him sending someone to check on that fact."

"Then that's that. Thanks for your help Jess".

"Oh there is one other thing you could include."

"What's that?"

"Why not ask him for a progress report on your father?"

Tears glistened in her beautiful eyes at the mention of her father.

"I'm sorry Estrelle. I didn't mean..."

"It's not your fault Jess. I just have this gnawing feeling that my father is dead. I wish I knew for sure. After all the suffering Obispo put him through. Knowing for sure it was all over, would be a relief."

Jess held her closely in his arms as she sobbed silently.

"I wish there was something I could do," said Jess.

"Just being here is all that matters."

He gently passed his hand over her cheeks and wiped away the streaks of tears which moved slowly down her beautiful face. He studied her childlike expression, feeling her vulnerability. He thought maybe Arumba could use his connections to find out about her father. But he felt that it would not be wise to suggest anything to her now and get her hopes up without reason.

A few weeks passed without problems. The special tapes supplied by the Washington communication's experts were providing excellent data for future analysis. Even Arumba felt his task was becoming redundant. The locals had stopped requesting permission to enter the cave.

That evening, they were all sitting around a comforting campfire discussing the day's work when they heard the echoing crack of a rifle being shot in the direction of the cave. Arumba seized his Uzzi and charged in the direction of the sound, ordering his men to back him up. He warned the others to take cover, as he disappeared into the blackness of the night.

The others hurried to take cover in a bunker Arumba and his men had made for such a contingency. Since his run in with his former compatriot, they all carried sidearms. Laura was experienced in the use of a pistol, and automatic weapons. Estrelle was reluctant at first, but with Jess' guidance had become proficient, and had a natural ability in hitting her target.

"Should we back up Arumba?" asked Hank.

"He built this shelter for our protection. I'm sure he would want us to hold it, and protect our data. After all, if someone has gotten past his security, it must be to take our findings. What other reason could there be?" said Jess.

"The cartel has gangs of thugs who are used to intimidate innocent people to establish their control over them," said Estrelle. "Besides, only a fool would rush out into the darkness, where guns are going off. I agree with Jess. Arumba would want us to hold our ground."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," said Laura, offering Estrelle a high five sign of approval.

A sudden burst of gun fire and the explosion of a grenade lit up the area in front of the cave. They could see the outline of dark figures scurrying for cover. Another burst of Arumba's Uzzi, and it was all over. Soon the tall leader, his weapon in the back of a Colombian mercenary, returned to the camp. His prisoner was Carlos Mendoza.

"One guy?" asked Jess. "Only one guy caused all this ruckus."

"There are two others out there who wont be bothering us anymore. My men are taking care of it."

"Any of your guys hurt?" asked Hank.

"Not seriously. The one on duty got winged on his left arm. Thank god he was wearing his flak jacket. The bullet deflected from his jacket and skinned the muscle of his arm."

"You got lucky this time," said Carlos. "You don't think our boss is going to just hang us out to dry do you?"

"This is Carlos Mendoza, formerly of the Cuban drug connection in Miami. Now a big wheel hit man in the Colombian cartel."

"What did you expect to find in the cave," asked Hank.

"Nothing ."

"You lost two men for nothing?"

"Our boss expected me to get even with you after what happened the last time we were here. I didn't want anyone to get killed. We only wanted to scare you so that we could get control of your operation. That's what all these demonstrations of violence are about. Our boss wants to be the boss of all the bosses. You know. Like the Mafia back home."

"Who is your boss?" asked Estrelle.

"I can't tell you. If he ever heard I had revealed his secret, I'd be a dead man. That's the way he is."

"And if you don't tell us, you are going to be a dead man anyway," threatened Arumba.

"You know me better than that Arny. And I know you. Remember, we were once partners. You wouldn't kill me."

Arumba didn't like the way this encounter was turning into a stalemate. He paused for a moment then continued.

"Have you sent your message to Obispo yet?"

"Not yet. I usually send it early in the morning, so that it will be on his desk when he gets to his office," said Estrelle.

"Good. Include in it, what happened here, and mention that two of the intruders were killed, but the third man, Carlos Mendoza, was taken captive, and we await Obispo's decision on what we should do with him. Include also that he admits to working for the cartel and has given us the name of his boss."

"You can't do that. I didn't tell you who my boss is."

"True. You didn't. But Obispo doesn't know that now does he?"

"But they'll kill me. Let me go Arny. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again. I promise. Please don't send that letter."

"Does this mean you are going to tell us the name of your chief?"

"Will you let me go if I tell you?"

"That depends."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"On whether I believe you or not. So who is it?"

"Obispo, the big cheese himself."

"Obispo!" said Hank. "I thought you said Carlos worked for the cartel."

"I do work for the cartel, but the reason you yanks can't get a handle on it, is because it is controlled from the top. Obispo is the guy who is going to get the whole ball of wax," said Carlos. "He plans to be for Colombia, what Castro was for Cuba. And the Americans are too stunned to see where the real threat is."

"You could be saying this because we have no way of proving it," said Estrelle.

"You should talk. He's already killed your father. The man has no conscience when it comes to moving his plan ahead," said Carlos.

"He's dead? My father is dead?"

"You should be glad. I've never seen a guy take such cruel punishment and still come back time and again. Obispo is a perverted monster. He took pleasure in observing the tortures he ordered. Your father drowned in a vat of excrement kept in the cellar of the old fort in Medellin. He was held under by another prisoner who did it to save his own neck. Obispo is not human. He's the worst kind of monster, and if he ever learns that I revealed this secret, a vat of shit would be too good for me."

"So what do you expect from us?" asked Arumba.

"For godsake don't tell anyone about what happened here."

"I'll do better than that. We can tell Obispo what happened, and say the only body we were able to identify, was one Carlos Mendoza. All deceased have been cremated to discourage the digging up of corpses by jungle carnivores. That should be a good cover for you while you are trying to make a new life for yourself."

"You would do that for me?"

"Not for you. For ourselves. This way he will know we have a secure base and he might back off and let us get our work done."

"This could work," said Hank.

"I'd like to suggest that Estrelle sends two messages," said Jess. "One of the routine ones first thing in the morning, followed up by Arumba's fax later in the day. Make it seem that Estrelle is still his inside operator. Having a direct link to Obispo is important for our long range safety. After all, the Atabapo Project is Obispo's goose that lays golden American eggs."

"Go on Carlos before the sun comes up. This is the second time I've been a good guy to you. But I can promise you three times and you're out."

Carlos extended his hand to Arumba. The tall black man slapped it down with considerable force. Momentarily stunned at his response, Carlos turned his back on them, and dashed into the jungle blackness, heading for his future.

View the biography of William James Johnson at www.noozoon.com.