Trees Hold Up the Sky 28 William James Johnson

Three days after the raid on Arumba's camp, the beaten rebel leader, his shoulders distorted by the torturous thongs which constrained his arms, stood before the victorious Fernandez Obispo. Resplendent in his immaculate white uniform, the General relished this moment, demeaning his black captive.

"What a waste. You idealistic fool. Instead of ending up a beaten dog, you could have joined me, in the rebuilding of our country. In time, you might even have become El Supremo. But what did I get with your capture? A fugitive gringo, a murderer at that, who will help me more by your execution than your impossible revolution.

"You're bluffing General. Surely you're not stupid enough to believe that destroying me will end the social change we demand. Justice will prevail. Execute me, and I promise, my followers will search you out, and make you pay with your life. You have misjudged the seriousness of our zambo movement."

Obispo despised the boldness of his threats, but secretly admired the strength of his character. Arumba would have been the ideal person to recapture the spirit of the Chibcha people who for generations had been subjugated by the intrusion of outsiders on their simple lives.

"Keep this black bastard out of the camera range while I make my announcement. Soon my friend you will see what I have in store for you."

Within minutes the General was being seen throughout Colombia, on prime time television. The magnificent polished wood paneling at the Secretariat of the Interior provided a dignified background for the handsome latino. Majestic in his sparkling white tunic, framed by gold shoulder epaulettes, the distinguished leader straightened his notes before addressing his audience.

"My dear fellow Colombians. I have waited a long time for this important moment. I am proud of our hard working people. From the original Chibchas to our blended races, you have proven Colombians are survivors.

"For many years, we have been in an all out war against the evil drug trade. Not only my fellow Colombians, but the entire world has condemned us for our indecision to deal effectively with this serious problem. Tremendous wealth has come from the enormous demand for drugs grown and processed in our land. This opportunity to accumulate unbelievable amounts of U.S. currency, has motivated the worst kind of business dealings aimed at taking control of our economy. Murder, torture, treason, are all the by-products of this nefarious activity.

"At dawn three days ago, I ordered an attack in the eastern San Fernando area, on one of the most secluded drug compounds in our country. Miles from civilization and government observation, this activity, under cover of the jungle, has been growing out of control. Not only did our raid bring to an end the insidious drug processing, but my trained teams captured the notorious leader, who calls himself "Arumba". This fugitive black American murderer shot and killed in cold blood, a famous civil rights worker in the U.S., before escaping to Colombia, where disguised as a rebel leader, he has been spreading his evil influence.

"As horrible as drug dealing has become, this underground terrorist movement led by Arumba, sworn to bring down the legitimate government of Colombia could destroy our nation. This renegade American has been forming rebel groups of zambos whom he has been training in the jungle, supported by U.S. funds from the Miami underworld. Arming his men with the latest in offensive weapons, which thankfully were seized when he was taken, I am proud to announce today, that the capture of this vile leader will end his treason, and restore peace to our country."

The General reached for a large leather bound text and opened it. "Under these Colombian Criminal Statutes, anyone found guilty of the crime of treason, must by law, be executed in a public area, to provide the general populace, an example of the swiftness of justice when the safety of the nation is threatened. As your Secretary of the Interior, I have the distinct right and responsibility to administer final justice in this horrendous crime.

"At midday tomorrow, Arnold Turner, alias Arumba, will be executed by firing squad at the Antiquities Museum,in Bolivar Square. As part of my solemn duty I accept the responsibility for this awesome decision. I wish to invite you to come with your families to witness this historic public execution, and I promise my fellow Colombians, that I, Fernandez Obispo, will do whatever I must to ensure our country survives in these troubled times."

When the announcement was finished, the television went blank, followed by a musical interlude. Obispo approached Arumba who having witnessed these outrageous lies, shook his head in disbelief. This silent gesture aggravated the strutting officer. Using his riding crop which he carried whenever he wore his military uniform, Obispo took a fierce swipe at the beaten black leader's face.

"So you think this is fun and games do you? When I get done with you, you'll be begging me to kill you."

"Have you forgotten what happened with the death of Che?" asked Arumba. "Whatever you do to me, you will be digging a deeper hole for yourself. Kill me, and ten others will take my place. You could have had it all if you were honest with the people, but you are like all those uniformed puppets who came before you. You lose touch with reality and the people, and you begin to believe you can walk on water."

This time the frustrated Obispo took a full swing with his gloved fist, landing squarely on the side of Arumba's face. His bleeding head caromed off his shoulder and a fresh stream of red surged out of his torn mouth, and traced an irregular path over his whipped-scarred, muscular chest.

"That's the trouble with you blacks. You've never learned your proper place. The only thing you understand is the use of power to keep you in line."

Arumba raised his damaged head, standing erect. His beaten body glistened in the brilliance of the television lights which had been set up in the office for the broadcast.

"Your Spanish ancestors captured my defenseless people in their raids on small villages, and herded them into ships to enslave them for the rest of their lives. Is this what you mean about our proper place? You are the lowest of creatures Fernandez. You and your kind have tried for generations to obliterate us, but now our time has come. My zambos will drive you into hell before this is over."

Infuriated again by Arumba's insubordination, Obispo smashed his fist into his bleeding face, cursing the red stain which marred the pristine white of his glove.
"Get this piece of shit out of my sight," ordered the General. "Tell Captain Cervantes I want to see him.... Now."

Within a few minutes, Pedro Cervantes in his ceremonial pilot's uniform entered the secretary's office.

"Bravo General. That was some show you put on."

"I'm not through yet. We've got to give the people something they will always remember. Now is the time to make our move."

"You're going to shoot the guy, what more can you do?"

"What would you think, if I had a cross set up on the steps of the museum and we chain the black bastard to it, before I give the orders to shoot him?"

"Whoa. Just a bit heavy don't you think."

"This has to be an event the world must remember. I want everyone to see I mean business."

"You asked me what I think, and I've got to admit General, crucifixion of a blackman on TV will get the world's attention, but don't you think it would be overdoing it. A neat military execution party which moves smartly to the area and takes up their place, and acts upon your order to shoot is more professional, and you don't leave yourself open to the criticism of the world media. Remember what they did to the Romanian dictator and his wife. They took them outside the building and shot them. No fanfare. No fuss. Just an end to their abuse. It was neat and efficient, but anyone who saw it on TV, will always remember it. I say you should do it as a military tribunal would. Its more dignified that way."

"Dignified. You might be right Pedro. I will think about it. I should be more dignified."

"You want the world to remember you, not Arumba. You put him on a cross, and you might as well have him canonized. Shoot the son-of-a-bitch and get on with taking control of Colombia. The people will praise you as the leader who helped to end the drug racket and brought law and order to our land."

"And you will be my new Secretary of Defense."

"Whatever you say General. I want you to win this struggle. And you know how much I like winners."

Obispo hugged his young officer and kissed him on each cheek. "You are like a son to me Pedro. I am so proud of you. If anything happens to me, I know you will continue the struggle. I want you to go to my tailor today, and have him change the captain's rank on your uniform to that of General. I will announce your promotion to the world tomorrow, after we rid ourselves of that crazy American."

"Was that it General? Is there anything else?"

"Yes there is something else. Professor de Quesada. I'm not sure I agree with your evaluation of Gonzalo."

"He could be trouble sir. Gonzalo is a true patriot. He's never been able to accept what you did to Garvas. I don't think he can be trusted."

"You know the old saying, ‘Better is the enemy I know, than the enemy I don't know.'"

"I believe better is the enemy I can destroy, than the enemy who can destroy me," added Pedro.

"I have to remember how the people trust Gonzalo. And so far, he has been loyal to me. Even if it would be for only a short time, I think we need him for the transition. When we are through with this public execution, I want you to go to Atabapo and bring Gonzalo back. I will offer him my job as Secretary of the Interior. If he has any passion for his country, he will surely do what he can to help us succeed in the take over. He's not the kind of person who would choose war over peace. Do you see what I'm proposing Pedro?"

"I see it General, but I also see a real risk here. Gonzalo may try to prevent your coup, and once he is in power, he could be impossible to put down."

"We will continue with this discussion after we have finalized the Arumba problem.
You go now and get your new rank put on your uniform. I want you to be the symbol of dynamic change in our land."

Pedro left Obispo's office and paused in front of a large mirror in the ante-room. Tugging at the lower edges of his tunic, he flattened the wrinkles. Pushing back the fringes of hair which stuck out of his hat, he decided he should get a trim before the big day. He glanced around to ensure no one was watching then he spoke softly, "Ladies and Gentlemen it is my honour to present the new Secretary of Defense, General Pedro Cervantes."

The next morning at Atabapo, the only affirmation that Arumba was in custody, was the daily fax from Gonzalo's office in the Antiquities Museum. With the urging of Gonzalo, Hank decided they should pack up their research data and prepare the Severski for a flight to the U.S. Army Airbase in Florida, where the drug smuggling helicopters had been serviced. Included in the fax was notification that Captain Cervantes would be coming to bring the professor back to Bogota in a few days..
In the time remaining, Jess wanted to make another flight to Ahuntipec to see the alien creatures in the daylight, but Hank felt it would be too risky if something should happen to their aircraft, essential in their escape plan. Compromising, he and his colleagues, including Gonzalo, put on their protective gear to make one last, underground excursion into the cave to take a brief look at some of the side tunnels they had passed daily when they were recording the mural. Hank felt the geologic conditions of limestone erosion which produced countless tunnels could possibly be linked to the giant caverns, as was discovered in the Mammoth cave in Kentucky. There was a chance they might even lead to the sacred mountain.

"As much as I would like to stay indefinitely, and map all these tunnels, I've got to keep our focus on decoding the mural," said Hank.

"And getting back to your country before the shooting begins," assured Gonzalo. "You must escape while you can, and that means now, no later than tomorrow."

"Who knows?" asked Laura. "When the political situation is improved, we could all return to complete our work. I know for one, I would be willing to come back."

They approached another fork in the cave which sent the tunnel in two different directions. No one had come this far before. Their lights shone off a multihued design in the distant darkness.

"My gawd. I don't believe it," said Jess. "Another mural. It's got to be. Who wants to come with me and get a good look at it?"

"Can I come? " asked Estrelle.

"There might be radiation like the other mural," said Hank. "Even in these suits I wouldn't take the chance if I were you. We sure as hell don't need to risk our only pilot being poisoned now that we've decided to go back home. Please don't do this Jess."

"You're right Hank.. This is one I owe you Estrelle, when and if we ever come back."

After a tedious day of hiking in the blackness of the cave, the weary scientists returned to the opening, and climbed out into a brilliant starry night, met by an excited Stuart Macgregor.

"Thank God you're back. All hell has broken loose in Bogota."

"What do you mean?" asked Hank.

"Obispo is dead."

"What?" exclaimed Gonzalo in shock.

"He was going to make an example of Arumba and execute him publicly as a traitor to the Colombian Peoples' Movement, when there was an assault by a group of revolutionaries under the leadership of Carlos Mendoza."

"Mendoza! He was killed during the attack on Atabapo," said a surprised Gonzalo.

"He wasn't killed," said Hank. "Apparently he and Arumba go back a long way. In fact I got the impression they were good friends before they decided to change sides. When he was in the raid, he gave him one more chance to live. Arumba could have shot him like the other two guys,but chose not to. Please continue Stu."

"After torturing him, Obispo's guys brought Arumba to the Secretariat in chains, where Obispo continued the violence. When he was finished beating him, the General made a TV appearance telling the public he was going to end the treason of underground groups who were trying to take over control of the government. He even told the nation, the rebel leader Arumba was actually a black American fugitive Arnold Turner wanted for murder in the U.S. That's when he said, he would have his firing squad execute the traitor in Bolivar square.

"Thousands gathered throughout the afternoon to see the destruction of a miserable gringo whose only purpose in life was to undermine the well-being of the poor people of the world. He must have been planning this for some time. His men were trying to chain Arumba to a cross on the steps of his building. Can you believe that...a cross. In fact, the time it took to stage the event may actually have saved Arumba's life. It gave the snipers time to get into position. His firing squad in their official white and gold uniforms marched in line to face the doomed black man.

"Before Obispo could give the order to shoot, a sniper's bullet struck him between the eyes, and the General fell over backward, blood drizzling down the side of his face into the white collar of his uniform. Within seconds, the firing squad toppled like dominoes, one after the other. The panic is still going on as we speak. Several hundred have been killed or wounded. I can't believe it. All within the last few hours."

"And Arumba?" asked Jess.

"The news say he has disappeared, along with Carlos Mendoza. And something else. There was another fax which said the new Secretary of Defense, General Cervantes will be coming here to-morrow morning to bring Gonzalo and all of us back to Bogota."

"Cervantes? Is this the same Captain Pedro Cervantes who was Obispo's pilot? asked Gonzalo.

"In fact Cervantes announced he is going to fill Obispo's job as Secretary of the Interior, until you can be sworn in professor," said Stu
.
They were all stunned by the news. Gonzalo was the first to grasp the political ramifications of the events.

"That's it Hank. Let's get the Severski loaded now so that we can escape at first light."

Jess and Tomaso worked under the battery lights throughout the night, checking the weight of equipment being loaded, ensuring they would not exceed the safety tolerances. By early morning they calculated they could carry all the passengers and the scientific gear, plus a full fuel load, with a safety margin of about 3000 pounds.

"We want you to come with us Gonzalo. There is no knowing what awaits you in Bogota if Cervantes takes you back," said Hank.

"But my family!"

"You aren't going to be able to help them if you end up like Estrelle's father. You've got to come with us, and let our government decide what it can do for Colombia. I don't think it will tolerate another Cuba in this hemisphere."

"Say Hank," asked Jess, "I've been wondering what you would say, if Tomaso and I loaded a couple of heat seeker missiles under our craft. We've got enough weight tolerance, and it could give us an extra edge in case our new General insists on stopping our escape."

"You're the one with the combat experience. Whatever you decide. I have to rely on your judgement."

"I say better safe than sorry. Come on Tomaso, let's get some of those zambos to help us install our birds."

Laura and Estrelle were busy securing the precious scientific gear. The morning sun was breaking through the eastern jungle and the mugginess of the swamp outside the camp began to infiltrate the air.

"It's done Hank", said Laura. "Anything else you would like us to do?"

"Thanks. Jess is almost ready."

Laura looked under the Severski.

"Okay. I'll bite. Is someone going to tell me that those are not missiles."

"Call it insurance. You know the old saying ' Don't leave home without them' ", said Jess.

"You're serious?"

"If we can get away before Cervantes shows up, we'll turn them over to the USAF. But if that bastard makes any attempt to force us down, I won't have to think twice about taking the initiative."

"So what is our flight plan?" asked Hank.

"Our first leg will take us to Caracas. It's about five hundred miles due north. We can refuel there using our government credit card. Then it's north west to our American base, Guantanamo, in Cuba. If we still have our rockets, we can leave them with the marines before we head for Harrison Air Base in south Florida."

"Have you filed a flight plan with the Department of Transport, in case we have problems?"

"Stu sent our plan over a security line before packing our gear. The coded message can be read only on a need to know basis. Don't worry Hank, I think we've got every thing covered. Let's head for home."

They both shook hands with the zambos who had worked so hard for them, assuring them Arumba would soon be back to lead them in their struggle against the cartels, and in their fight for independence. The rumbling of the Severski rotors blowing grass and dust, and the slow lift off of the grey hulk, turning gradually northward, gave them all a satisfying feeling that before the day was over, they would be back home.