Quickly subduing the soldiers in the compound, the men boarded the vehicles and took off. As thunder continued to sound in the night, Chapman only hoped he would be in time.
At the small airfield, a young sub lieutenant sat back in the small office waiting for the presidential jet from Cuba to arrive. One of the men shouted that a set of lights could be seen in the air, coming toward the small field. He immediately ordered the fires lit along the runway. There were no electric lights, but the men had dug a trench along the sides of the runway and had filled them with oil. On his order, two men lit torches and made their way to the edges of the runways and lit the oil.
The flames spread down the entire length of the runway to help the pilot guide the aircraft in. The men watched as the lights grew closer and the sound of the engines grew louder. Suddenly lights came on the aircraft illuminating the sides and tail. They proclaimed the aircraft belonged to Cubana Airlines, the airline of Cuba. It settled toward the ground and as it came over the end of the runway, the fires in the trenches illuminated the lower parts of the aircraft. Wheels touched the ground and the engines were quickly reversed so that the plane would stop before the runway ended.
Despite its size, the aircraft came to a halt in front of the small office. The end of the runway was much larger so that aircraft could turn around and it contained extra space for a helicopter landing pad. The pilot used his wheels and engines to turn the giant plane and remain on the paved surface. Once around, the lights were extinguished and the engines shut down.
The sub lieutenant lined his people up and brought them to attention to pay proper respect to the President of Cuba. From the other side of the aircraft a squad of United States Marines quickly ran around the tail and surprised the waiting soldiers. Once the area was secure, the giant rear ramp was lowered and made ready. With luck, the hostages would arrive soon.
The truck arrived just outside the ceremonial village. Chapman was surprised that no one was guarding the entrance. Using hand signals, he had the remaining team quickly exit the trucks and fan out. The drums were loud and the voices of several hundred men and women were heard singing and chanting as the ceremony was taking place. Chapman ordered one squad around the buildings on the low side and Ricks took the other to the high side.
The top of the hill was made up of a number of adobe style buildings forming a “U” shape around the central courtyard. Other smaller huts were sprinkled farther in the trees. Making their way between the buildings, they came up on a soldier leaning against the side of a building. Catching a glimpse of the intruders, he turned and aimed his weapon. Ricks pulled the trigger of his silenced pistol twice and the man went down. There was a ladder going up to the roof of one of the buildings. Ricks sent Miller up top to get a perch. Two buildings down, he sent up another sniper. Reporting them in place, he and the rest of his squad found themselves at the far end of the courtyard. There before them was a spectacle Ricks had only expected to see in a place like Disney World. All across the front of the court were people dancing and chanting as the fires burned and the drums beat out their rhythm. In the center of the stage was a huge obelisk. Just like the photos, there was a post in front of it. All along the walls were men dressed in colorful ceremonial gear. They were obviously watching the crowd and urging their participation. Like Aztec cheerleaders, they jumped and shouted with the beat, calling out some and encouraging even more. The Team found itself behind the crowd and was so far unmolested. Two men were seen on top of the far buildings carrying rifles. With Chapman’s order, both men dropped from sight.
No one knew if the ceremony was winding up or getting started until out of a far door, Parente appeared, dressed in his ceremonial gear and covered in gold. The occasional thunder helped him by making the crowd believe something far more powerful was happening tonight. He slowly walked to the front of the crowd, lifting his arms towards heaven and calling out to the crowd. The people stopped dancing and listened as he began chanting in some ancient tongue. With a mighty swish of sound and a clap of thunder, the drums began again as smoke exited the corners of the obelisk and rose skyward, temporarily obscuring the top. Lights got brighter as the smoke rose. Suddenly, from the ground, it seemed the obelisk had opened up and Wei stood, shimmering in the bright light at the top. From the ground, the people could not see the giant ark lamps illuminating the god, but the light was reflected back down to them so intensely, it almost hurt to look at.
Wei lifted his staff and waved it over the crowd. The crowd responded with even louder cheers as their god showered his blessings on them. Suddenly from a door on the opposite side, two men dragged Patricia Crowell Hammond bodily across the court to the post in front of the obelisk. Despite her struggling, they bound her to the post with gold rope.
As she struggled against her bindings the dancing and the chanting resumed as the cheerleaders by the buildings began again in earnest. As Wei looked on, Parente began his swirling dance before the crowd. The men of the team knew it would be soon.
Ricks suddenly turned to one of his men and called for the cloak. He quickly donned the canvas-like garment and attached the battery pack. In a minute, the computer kicked in and the cloak began to match the surrounding area.
Ricks touched his communicator. “Captain, I’m going in. Keep these guys off me,” he said as he attached the Velcro fasteners and stepped into the open and moved toward the crowd.
Parente stopped his dance and moved to a small table. He picked up an obsidian knife and raised it into the air. The crowd began to scream in approval, drowning out another loud clap of thunder. He took the knife in his hands and slowly moved toward Patricia, still struggling to get free. As he came face to face with her, he murmured, “This will end you and your husband’s torment.” An evil smile crossed his face as he slowly raised the knife in both hands.
Patricia watched in horror as the weapon of her death was raised, ready to plunge into her chest. Her eyes followed the knife as he slowly raised it above her head.
“I have a shot,” said Miller into his headset.
“Take it,” ordered Chapman.
The rifle was silenced. No shot rang in the air.
Parente suddenly saw the obsidian knife fall, in pieces, and shatter on the stones at his feet. He felt something run down his arms. Looking up, he saw the blood rushing down from his shattered hands. The realization brought the pain and he collapsed to the ground at Patricia’s feet. The cries from the crowd changed when they saw their chief priest bleeding on the ground.
There was a scream at the back of the crowd and the people turned to see what appeared to be an apparition float across the courtyard toward the front of the stage. It appeared to be something invisible, but the delay in the computer made the image seem totally unearthly. The frightened spectators began moving out of the way as it passed through them. A soldier appeared with his rifle in hand. Without a sound he suddenly dropped dead to the ground along with a second who came out of one of the buildings. Now the spectators began to scream.
Fleeing the specter, the people left a clear path for Ricks to get to Patricia. She opened her eyes and stared in wonder as the ‘spirit’ came directly in front of her.
“The cavalry has arrived,” said Ricks under the garment.
A puzzled look came over her face. “Dale?” she asked faintly.
She heard a chuckled in front of her. “Roger sent me,” he said.
Ricks turned off the suit and pulled it from around him. The sudden appearance of a man where there was none sent even more of the people scampering.