Belmopan Read online

  It was later in the afternoon when Henry finally made it back to his office. The police had requested that he and his staff be made available for the search and rescue of an archaeologist who had become missing the previous night. Henry knew of the circumstances relating to her abduction but his staff was not, and was to accompany military personnel, more for protocol and ensuring the sites and surroundings were not roughshod with troops and gear. The search would begin in Belize, but would more than likely enter Guatemalan territory. Logistics would be left to the military that had the authority to enter Guatemala.

  “Magnus!” Henry blurted on entering his upstairs office.

  Magnus rose to his feet to take his friends hand. “Nice to see you again; it has been what, two years?”

  “At least that,” Henry replied, smiling from ear to ear.

  He could see that the years had not been good to Magnus. His graying hair was slightly matted to his skull, and his eyes were dark and set deep within their sockets. His suit was wrinkled and worn at the elbows, but his dear friend still had the dignity to wear a tie even though the knot was no more than an attempt.

  “It is a bit crazy around here at the moment. The military have requested, or should I say the Policia, that we accompany them on some excursions into the mountains along the border.”

  Magnus raised his brow but enquired of nothing.

  “Apparently, there is a girl missing from the dig at Caracol. They think she was kidnapped, and I’m afraid I would have to agree. She is an American, the woman who was responsible for the Olmec bowl being brought back.”

  Magnus shifted in his seat, Henry noticing it, “Why what’s up?” he asked.

  “Well,” Magnus started, taking a deep breath, “that’s why I’m here.”

  Surprised, Henry took a seat across from his visitor and shook his head, “How do you do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Always come into my office, somehow knowing what is going on when no-one else does.”

  Magnus returned a blank look, “All I know is some acquaintances have come a great distance to do some business, and am not all that sure they aren’t involved in something that ultimately should include us.”

  “You know my friend, I almost lost my job and was threatened with deportation all those years ago in Mexico, and I have finally put all that behind me and have started to make a difference for the people and the industry in the area.”

  “Yes, I know Henry, and I will never be able to repay you for your kindness to me and my daughter after my wife passed away.”

  There were a few moments of silence as Henry got to his feet and reached for the stack of papers on his desk, “You see this Mag, I have two weeks work in my hands and a dozen more in the file cabinet over there, I would give it all up, job and all for a month in the jungle with you and a crew.”

  “Magnus smiled, ‘Thanks, Henry, all I need is a little info on the bowl and the lobby group that wants it.”

  Henry busied himself with papers and said nothing for several moments then finally stated. “You know there have been several attempts to steal the bowl from the vault.”

  “Obviously, they were not successful.”

  “No, not so far, but they are persistent.” He continued. “People are being paid off and there is no reason to believe it won’t happen again.”

  “Any clues or suspicions Henry?” Magnus asked, getting up and walking to the window.

  “No, not really. But there is an American businessman who has been floating around since the bowl’s arrival. He keeps popping up at the weirdest places.”

  “Talking about popping up in the weirdest places; here are those acquaintances I was telling you about.”

  Henry skirted the desk and joined Magnus by the window just in time to see the two disappear along the sidewalk to the rear of the building. “Where are they from?”

  “Canada,” Magnus returned, “I met them in Mexico a number of years ago when I helped them with some problems in Valladolid. I helped them out and they in return did me a favor.”

  “Why don’t you come down with me and”

  “No,” Magnus protested, “I do not wish to see them at this time. It is best they do not know I am here.”

  “Well, I best go down and see to them. There is no-one tending the offices, and I am the only one available”

  Henry disappeared out the door, his steps echoing through the hollow stairwell; Magnus continued staring contemplatively out the window.

  Magnus watched with solicitude from behind the tinted glass as the Canadians retreated to their car and ducked out of sight just in time not to be spotted by an army helicopter that appeared over the rooftops. It precariously swung and hovered in the air before landing on a grassy knoll not a hundred yards from the parking lot. Magnus patiently watched as the passengers disembarked and proceeded to approach the rear of the building. Amused, he watched, as Brian and Steve, stayed motionless behind their vehicle to avoid notice by the entourage. Still giggling from their predicament, Magnus was startled by the appearance and vague recollection of the businessman that anteceded the Military Officer. He too began to wonder where to appropriately disappear, not out of fear, but with realization that the information that this man knew would flow more easily with fewer ears to listen. Henry was a good friend, but Magnus did not wish to jeopardize or compromise their relationship, at least not openly.

  Magnus cold hear a brief conversation being held in the open stairway, and then after, several doors opening and closing. Footsteps came once again clamoring up the stairwell and Henry entered the room like a whirlwind.

  “Would you like to come with me Mag?” Henry asked without looking up from his dutiful hands as they gleaned the clutter of paperwork on his desk, “You might find the debriefing interesting.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Magnus replied without taking his eyes from the Canadians as they slowly drove from the parking lot below. His mind drifted to the rear of another car, some eighteen years earlier, and the dust cloud it left behind as it sped away; his wife’s fearful and teary face darting back and forth between the shoulders of her captors as she strained to see from the window her beaten husband left for dead.

  “Waite a minute Henry, maybe I will, but can I just listen-in without being noticed?”

  “I suppose so Mag. But why?” he questioned, as they prepared to enter the stairway.

  “One of the fellows was an associate of mine from a few years back, and let’s just say, if I were there the conversation would be muted.”

  Henry shrugged his shoulders while Magnus held the door for him.

  “I’ll fill you in over dinner later.”

  “OK!” Henry returned, taking the lead down the stairs. “You slip in there,” pointing to an enclosed area backing onto the offices beyond. “You should be able to hear it all from there.”

  “Thanks, Henry,” Magnus murmured as he disappeared behind the door.

  “Heh, Mag,” Henry whispered, with his mouth close to the closed door, “I’ll see you at eight. I’m in the book.”

  Magnus sat quietly and waited in the dark for the briefing to begin. His mind began to wander to events he wished would stay unremembered.

  The suns’ rays beat down hard as Angelina carried the water jugs to the cool of the alcove close to where they worked. Felicia had been left for the day with the neighbor two doors down from their apartment, who also had children. Magnus and Angelina loved Felicia with them, but understood it was equally important for her to interact with other children her own age, so it was convenient on all accounts to leave her once in a while to play as a child instead of a budding preschool archaeologist.

  Magnus had just picked up the few chards of clay findings extracted from the overlay of the terrace half way up the temple face when he noticed a cloud of thick dust pluming up above the tall grass that lined the long laneway into the dig. The road was at the best of times unnavigable at any speed, and at mid-day he was not expecting v
isitors. Thinking of the chance something may have happened to Felicity, he dropped his tools and descended the awkwardly steep stairs that led to the grassy courtyard below. Approaching the area where Angelina was preparing their lunch, he could see two men rummaging through his personal belongings while Angelina sat crouched down on the ground beneath a man that towered above her; a large, black car sat idle some distance in the background, its rear window down several inches alluding to scrutinized proceedings. Walking from Angelina and into the alcove where the coolness sheltered their perishables, the one fellow began to throw the water cans and ice packs from with-in. Realizing they were there to do harm, he screamed and ran toward the intruders. Being a slight man, he was no match for the assaults that were wielded upon him and with a severity that left him unconscious and bleeding. Barely able to move when he awakened in the hot afternoon sun, he turned his head and watched as the rear of the black sedan disappeared in a cloud of dust. Magnus strained to lift his head and was able to catch a glimpse of his wife’s face in the rear window just before they disappeared.

  When he came to once again, he was able to roll over and drag himself to the alcove that had once housed the foodstuffs for the day. Prying open a canteen of water, he brought it to his lips and swirled its cool contents in his mouth and spewed out the pinkish fluid. His lips were swollen and cracked, and hurt when he once again brought the canteen to his mouth. He drank deep and rested his aching head on the cool limestone wall behind him. He looked down to his swollen, dislocated knee and plied his surely broken ribs, wondered who would perpetrate such an attack and why. His fist was frozen in a half closed position, bloody from a knife slash that nearly opened an artery. Protruding from between his fingers was a bone, or at least what he thought was a bone. Spilling drops of precious water from the tin, he watched as the blood dripped away to reveal a colorful plume of a Macaw. It was confusing to see such an oddity at first, but as he began to comprehend the implications, he began to cry. Unable to move his swollen and broken body, he could think of only one thing, saving Felicia, and then he passed-out again.

  The morning brought the sun and the end to a restless, pain-filled night. With more strength, he was able to shuffle himself along on his wrists to the edge of the clearing near the ruins. The little Austin, that had been his first car since college, was almost a half mile away and remained untouched by the assailants. Magnus felt that if he could make it to the vehicle, he would somehow be able to drive. It took over an hour to crawl to the little car but once he was there, he was unable to use his damaged hands to pull the chromed lever to unlock the door. Exhausted, he rested with his back to the car door and the blood that had covered his hands now streaked the light turquoise paint. The sun began to sting his already scorched flesh. The canteen he had dragged with him had somehow lost its lid, and the contents gone. Magnus no longer had the strength to return to the shelter of the alcove. Defeated, he rested and listened to the buzz of life in the grassy lands surrounding him. He fainted.

  After what seemed an eternity of sleep and agony, “Magnus” echoed in his ears. Was he hearing things?

  “Magnus!”

  Lifting his head and squinting from his swollen, dry eyes, he could barely make-out the familiar face of his good friend and colleague. “Henry,” gasped from his lips.

  “Magnus!”

  There came a gentle tap on the door.

  “They’re here, buddy.”

  Magnus leaned himself comfortably against the

  wall in the closet and emotionally steadied himself from the dream he had just had. Feeling uneasy at the predicament of his surroundings, he encouraged himself that this was the right thing to do. Reaching in his pocket, he silenced his cellular, it was always better to be on the safe side.

  The conversations were faint but audible. Dia tres, al final de (day 3 evening)

  Belmopan was no audacious place. It was quaint with paved roads and few sidewalks. No high-rise buildings blocked the rolling vista that crested with low mountains to the south and evaded to meadows and slow-moving creeks to the north. A large, playing field in the middle of town was center-stage to a variety of events and celebrations. The main street circumvented the main body of the town and made navigation quite easy apart from the lack of readable street signs, especially at night. By the time Magnus had found the austere bungalow along Trio Street, it was quite dark and passed 8:30.

  “Hello, my friend,” as Henry opened wide the door to allow Magnus to pass.

  Magnus brushed by his friend with a warm hand gesture and removed his shoes to an alcove in the wall. The tiled foyer opened up into a large, sunken, living area with wall-to-ceiling windows that faced an open valley. A small number of lights below signified the scant population of farmers in the area..

  “You have a beautiful view,” commented Magnus as he found a place to sit amongst the paper-laden chairs and couches.

  “Yes, thanks,” he replied, gathering up enough paper-works to find a seat for himself. “Let’s have a drink, shall we.”

  Magnus winched slightly at the thought of it, but before he could refuse, not that he would have, Henry handed him a glass of dark rum, ginger and ice.

  “Did you get much of what was said this afternoon?” Henry asked.”

  “Well not as much as I would have liked to, but tell me about the American? I recognize him, but cannot remember the exact circumstance of our meeting.”

  “He is the businessman I alluded to before in my office, who has been turning up in odd places in connection with the Olmec Bowl.” Henry stated. “He was implicated in a looting incident a while back, but was acquitted.”

  “I remember that.” Magnus replied, taking a sip of rum. “Do you think he is the one trying to steal it? It would be a nice prize.”

  “I can’t be sure mate, but he’s right there with whoever it is, and he certainly has enough money and pull. Since the bowl has made its way to the archives though, things have settled down.”

  Magnus crossed his legs and took a gulp of his drink. “And what about the girl?”

  “The girl is a Native American from the north,” Henry replied. “The British do not want the Yanks interfering with the delicate balance of political power should the troops have to enter Guatemala. But then again, the kidnap victim is an American; the Embassy will insist on the full co-operation and involvement of some US Forces. The American, I guess his name is Doug, Doug Baldwin, suggested the temporary alternative of a grace period to allow the ground forces already in place, time to search and recover the girl.”

  “And what do you think Henry?”

  “It really doesn’t matter what I think. The American insisted that it was appropriate for such a request.” Henry’s voice lowered in pitch when he stated the fact. “I suggested the American Consulate be informed and to stand ready should there be a request made for a ransom.”

  “Do you really think they want to give her up?” Magnus asked.

  “I’m sure they want something,” Henry affirmed.

  That statement caught Magnus’s attention. “What did you mean by that? Do you know that there will be a request?”

  “I’m no fool Mag, and either are you. Just because the bodies are rarely found, does not mean the ancient rites are not still practiced. We have seen the signs.”

  “Henry, can you get me a private meeting with this Doug? Magnus requested. “I know this guy from somewhere.” Henry nodded in affirmation. “It might be twenty years, and another country, but I recognize him.”

  Henry’s intuition warned him of the emotion Magnus had for this man, but Mag was his friend. Hesitating for several moments watching the doctor’s cool, blank stare, Henry finally released, “Of course I can.”

  Just then a short, native woman with graying hair entered the room by the kitchen and brought a basket of bread to set on the table. Startled by the intrusion, Magnus put his drink down and put his feet firmly on the floor.

  “It’s OK Mag,” Henry blurted almost spill
ing his drink. “She’s my house-keeper, Elisa. She has been with me for years,” fondly looking over to her. “We are quite close.”

  Magnus eased his mood, relaxed back in the chair and picked up his drink again.

  “Sorry Mag, I forgot how sensitive you were to uninvited guests, whoever they might be.”

  “It’s OK Henry; I’m a bit shaken up. These Canadians, and this American, have rattled me with their presence, and it has brought the past flooding back to me in such force that I have not felt this anguish since the death of my wife.”

  “I understand Magnus, I’ll help you as long as you promise me one thing.” Magnus looked up. “That when all this is over, you help me to recover as much of my career as can be salvaged.”

  Magnus dipped his head as if remembering the past.

  “Come-on Mag, let’s eat.”

  SIX

  Dia dos (day two) Amalia awoke late in the morning face down on the pillow. She was naked from the waist down, legs spread wide; her right hand was nestled in her groin. She perspired slightly from the closeness of the room; there was no ventilation; the drapes had been drawn closed. Thoughtfully, she rolled over to stare at the ceiling, reflecting on what had or had not happened the night before. Amalia’s body hummed, but she could not determine whether the feeling was residual of the previous night’s drug abuse, sexual arousal, or both. She thought for several moments but could not bring to mind the man belonging to the face she had last seen in her room the previous night. Bewildered and frustrated, she replaced her hand and tightly squeezed her thighs together enjoying the release of tension. She fell back asleep.