Ambush
The hotel had received no word of Tony Briotti. Rick and Scotty hadn't
really expected any word. They were certain that he had been kidnaped by
Nast. Even the reason for the kidnaping was no longer important. What
was important was to rescue Tony.
Angel Manotok left before the boys were ready for dinner. He hoped to
pick up some information at various places he knew around town. Perhaps
gossip which might be useful. Perhaps someone had seen something unusual
which could have a bearing on the young archaeologist's disappearance.
Angel promised to report back later. He would spend the night in Tony's
room.
Rick and Scotty decided to have dinner, and then talk with some of the
local Americans about the best place to buy a jeep. If possible, they
wanted to pick one up after dinner, get it ready to travel, and have it
standing by the next morning early.
They did not talk much at dinner. They were more worried about Tony than
either of them would admit, and Rick was feeling a little ill at ease
because they hadn't notified the police. He had talked it over with
Angel, but the Filipino guide had said, "We'll have to notify them
sooner or later, but it will do no good."
"Perhaps we should notify the American ambassador at Manila," Rick said
aloud.
"We should have notified him long before this," Scotty agreed. "But we
always try to do everything ourselves. I guess we'll never learn."
Angel Manotok appeared in the dining room, eyes searching for the boys.
Rick saw him and waved. Angel came over and slid into a seat. Apparently
he had seen a doctor, because the bandage around his head was a new one.
"Friend of yours coming this way," he said. "Probably will have dinner
here. Lazada."
Scotty's lips tightened. "I'll be glad to see him," he assured Angel. "I
want to ask him about his pal Nast."
Rick's eyes opened wide. "No need," he said. "Look at the door."
There, just entering were Lazada and Nast, arm in arm!
The boys waited until they were seated, then walked over to join them.
"Good evening," Rick said. "I hope you gentlemen are well."
Lazada and Nast smiled. The Assistant Secretary nodded. "Both quite
well, thank you. And how are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Rick said. "But my friend is giving me a little
trouble." He pulled a chair out from Lazada's table and sat down. Scotty
followed suit. Rick was close to Lazada, while Scotty's chair was nearer
to Nast.
"Your friend is giving you trouble?" Lazada asked. "Which friend?"
"This one," Rick said, motioning to Scotty. "He wants to kill Mr. Nast.
I don't think we should kill Mr. Nast, do you?"
Lazada smiled. "Ask him."
Rick turned to Nast. "Do you have an opinion, Mr. Nast?"
Nast was a little pale, but his voice was steady enough. "I certainly
do. I agree with you, Mr. Brant."
Rick grinned mirthlessly. "You do? I'm glad. Instead of killing you, I
suggested to Scotty that we cripple you. Perhaps a few compound
fractures of the arms and legs."
Rick could see that neither Lazada nor Nast were as composed as they
seemed. The calm, unearthly discussion was too bizarre. Threats were
something they understood, but not threats like this.
Scotty spoke for the first time. He addressed Nast. "Because you're a
fellow American I thought the decent thing to do would be just to kill
you outright."
Nast shuddered visibly. "You're both joking, of course. But it isn't a
very funny joke, I assure you."
Rick smiled. "No, it isn't very funny. But neither is Dr. Briotti's
disappearance. You'd better tell us where he is."
"What makes you think Mr. Nast knows?" Lazada asked.
Rick considered. They had no proof. No one had seen Nast in the sedan
that had taken Tony from the airport. The boys saw movement at the
entrance to the dining room and realized that two Filipinos were
watching them like hawks, and that the hands in their pockets certainly
held pistols.
Rick shifted tactics. "Do you have much faith in your bodyguards?"
Lazada raised his eyebrows. "Faith? Of course. They are loyal to me. If
anyone tries to get close to me without my permission, they step in and
remove that person. Or, if anyone should try violence...."
Rick smiled. "How good do you think they would be against a sniper with
a rifle five hundred yards away?"
"Obviously, they would be ineffective."
"Just the point I wanted to make," Rick agreed. "You realize, of course,
that there is no protection against assassination, except to take refuge
in a fortress of some kind and stay there. That's impossible for a
public figure like yourself."
"True. Your point, then, is what?"
"That Dr. Briotti has friends with rifles. It would distress us to find
that he had been harmed."
"It would distress me," Lazada assured them. "I was very much impressed
by Dr. Briotti's knowledge and enthusiasm. I assume that you think I
have some knowledge about his disappearance. I do not."
"Me either," Nast added hastily.
Lazada's round face glistened with perspiration. "I will control my
anger, Mr. Brant. I take your age into account. Allow me to remind you,
however, that I am an official of the Philippine Government and that you
are an alien. You are here on sufferance, and you have only such rights
as you can persuade us to give you. Oh, I know there are agreements. But
let us be realistic. Do not force me to lose my temper and do something
for which I would be sorry."
"All right." Rick rose. "I'm not as enthusiastic about this expedition
as I used to be, but we're going through with it, anyway, starting
tomorrow. The sooner we finish, the better for everybody." He looked at
Nast. "Except you. I can only promise you that your pal Lazada will
never be able to give you the golden skull to smuggle into China."
The boys walked back to their own table and left Nast and Lazada staring
after them. That would give them something to chew over, Rick thought.
"I'm not sure that we were smart," Scotty said when they were seated
once more. "I'm sure Nast had something to do with Tony's disappearance,
but I can't tell you why I'm sure. Was it wise to throw it up to them?"
Rick shrugged. "Maybe not. But it's done now."
The boys slept with locked windows and doors, but they slept soundly.
Down the hall, Angel also regained strength and optimism while he slept,
so that the three awoke the next morning with a determination to make
some real progress. They had followed their plans and obtained a jeep
the night before. But they would need blankets and warmer clothing,
unless their supplies could be recovered.
Over breakfast, Scotty estimated their chances. "Suppose we find out
that the truck is somewhere in the Ifugao country. Would that guarantee
our getting it back? No, it would not. So, we'd better write off the
stuff in the truck as lost."
Fortunately, stores open early in Baguio, and the boys were able to buy
the things they needed. Scotty also bought an extra five-gallon gasoline
can for the jeep. Then Angel and Scotty loaded their few belongings into
the vehicle, shook Rick's hand, and headed for Bontoc.
They had agreed that it might be convenient to have the Sky Wagon at
Bontoc, too, so Rick would fly up later, planning to arrive at about the
same time. Now, he sat down in the hotel lobby and penned a note to the
American ambassador, describing the events of yesterday and telling of
their future plans. He gave the note to the desk clerk, with
instructions that it was not to be sent for three days.
Rick figured that at the end of that time he would either reclaim the
note, or that all of them would be in need of help, and the American
ambassador would get the letter and use it as a reason for sending a
strong note to the Philippine Government, or maybe call out the Marines,
the Navy, and the Air Force. Rick was a little vague on just what would
happen.
The note written, he tried to read for a while. Scotty and Angel were
not well started, and it would be pointless for him to go on to Bontoc
alone. He wondered where Chahda was, and what he was doing. The Hindu
boy had his own way of operating, and it was one Rick and Scotty could
not hope to copy. Chahda had the gift of mimicry. He could fade into a
new background as though he belonged to it.
Rick hoped that Chahda, somehow, was keeping a protective eye on Tony.
He couldn't read. He tried napping, but that was no good, either. At
last, unable to remain idle a moment longer, he took a taxi to the
airport, topped off the Sky Wagon's tanks with gas, checked the plane
thoroughly, got a weather report and took off.
He climbed to fifteen thousand feet and scanned the terrain for
landmarks. He spotted Mount Panay to the west, verifying its name on the
map. Then he picked up the Bontoc Road and searched for the highest
point, where it emerged from the valleys and swung across a peak over
seven thousand feet above sea level.
If he had estimated Scotty's travel time correctly, the jeep should just
now be emerging into the brilliant sunlight of the peaks. He wished for
binoculars, but they had failed to bring any, one of those oversights
that happen on any expedition.
There was a little traffic on the road. A car of some kind was at the
peak, probably stopped to allow the occupants to see the magnificent
view. Then he saw that the car was being driven off the road into a
grove of trees just beyond the peak. That was odd.
He identified the jeep. In a moment or two it would be at the peak. He
would go down and wave. Then he would go back to the airport, have
lunch, and fly on to Bontoc. That way, he would get there only slightly
ahead of Scotty and Angel.
He lost altitude. Below, men were getting out of the car which had
driven into the scant cover of a scrub-pine grove. Rick watched as they
walked to the peak. Sunlight reflected from metal. Probably lunch boxes,
he thought. The men were going to have their picnic lunch while looking
over the wonderful mountains of northern Luzon. Good idea. Probably that
was why they had parked the car off the road.
Then he saw that they were not stopping at the peak, but were taking
positions along the road a short distance beyond it. Again, sunlight
glinted from metal as one of them sat down in a copse just off the road.
Sweat suddenly poured on Rick's forehead. He wasn't watching simple
picnickers! He was watching an ambush being set up--and it could only be
for one vehicle, because there was only one in sight along the miles of
twisting highway.
Scotty and Angel!
Rick spun the Sky Wagon up on a wing and let it slide. He held the slide
for long moments while the altimeter ticked off the lost altitude. Not
until it registered eight thousand feet did he level off, only a
thousand feet above the mountaintops. For a moment he couldn't see
Scotty and Angel, then he saw them climbing toward the peak at a good
speed. In about twenty seconds they would reach it.
He gauged the amount of clearance he had. It wasn't much. Then he put
the stick forward and dove for the road. He leveled off so low that his
prop wash kicked up dust. The jeep seemed to rush at him and he had a
glimpse of Scotty's surprised face, then he was roaring up in a climb
that flattened him against the seat. He leveled off and looked for the
jeep. It was still moving ahead.
Rick groaned. Scotty thought he was just playing! He should have written
a note and dropped it, but now there was no time. The jeep would be in
the ambush before he could let his friends know why he had buzzed them.
He was helpless. There wasn't anything in the Sky Wagon that he could
throw at the enemy. But he could at least try to make them keep their
heads down. He roared in for the attack, aiming at the places where the
attackers waited.
The ambushers had the advantage. All they had to do was sit still. Rick
could not hurt them without cracking up the plane and actually landing
on them. Still, it was terrifying to have the plane roar past scarcely
two feet above one's head, and Rick knew the attackers would be worried
about the possibility of an accident.
One man had weak nerves. On Rick's second pass he stood up and ran,
heading for the comforting shelter of the trees. Scotty saw him. The
jeep braked to a halt.
Instantly the ambushers opened fire. Scotty and Angel jumped from the
exposed jeep and took to the ditch. Rick dove at the riflemen again and
saw them shoot at him.
He gained a little altitude and circled, estimating the situation. There
were four attackers, counting the one who had run for the car. That left
three effective ones. Scotty and Angel were unarmed, a grave mistake.
They should have purchased weapons. However, since he had been able to
warn them, the attack had failed. They were in good cover, and as long
as he was overhead, ready to dive on the attackers if they should try
for a better position, the two were all right.
Rick thought he saw a way out. At least there was no harm in trying. He
took the pad of paper he kept in the door pocket and printed a message
to the attackers.
YOU HAVE LOST. NO MATTER WHICH WAY YOU GO, I CAN FOLLOW. I CAN HAVE
THE POLICE TRAP YOU AT BONTOC OR BAGUIO. I CAN CARRY POLICE TO
BONTOC FASTER THAN YOU CAN DRIVE THERE. BUT IF YOU LEAVE YOUR
RIFLES IN THE ROAD, GO TO YOUR CAR, AND HEAD FOR BAGUIO, I WILL DO
NOTHING.
He searched for a weight and found his emergency fishing kit, a war
surplus item which he carried in case he might someday find himself at a
good fishing spot without tackle. From the kit he extracted a heavy
sinker. A piece of fishing line completed the rig. He lashed the sinker
to the folded paper. Now to toss it out so it would land among the
attackers. He swung low over the road, gauging his distance. When he saw
the peak rushing at him he released the weighted paper, climbed swiftly,
and saw one of the attackers run to get it.
Apparently it made sense to the three men. They talked among themselves
for a moment, then carried their rifles to the middle of the road and
went to the car. Scotty and Angel realized that something was going on,
but prudently remained under cover. Not until the ambushers' car roared
past on the way to Baguio did they emerge and wave at Rick. He waggled
his wings, then turned and made a beeline for the city. He wanted guns
and ammunition, and there was no time like the present to buy them!