Chapter 2: Escape to Cusco

"Senor Professor! Professor Frost!" a Peruvian officer called as he hurried towards Cody and Shawn.

Cody and Shawn had just exited the passageway from what may have been a basement in the distant past. Shawn stepped away from Cody as the officer hurried up. Cody couldn't figure out if his intern was trying to give him a bit of privacy or being cautious and making it harder for someone he didn't know to flank them. He nodded to his intern in appreciation, for whatever his reason may have been.

"What do you need, Lieutenant?" Cody answered as the short, rotund officer huffed up to him.

"Senor Professor, the Capitan wishes to speak to you before you depart," the Lieutenant panted.

Cody hesitated and the Lieutenant urgently said, "It is important, Professor."

Cody sighed and nodded before looking at Shawn and saying, "Make sure the Humvee and trailer are ready. Make sure everything is loaded in the other truck and the driver for the truck is ready. Pay off any of the other workers that haven't been paid yet. Make sure they get out of here before they're stuck in the middle of a battle. I want to leave as soon as I get back." Cody glanced down at the ceramic shard for a moment before handing it to his intern. "Wrap that in bubble wrap and put it in the Humvee. I'll want to look at it while were traveling."

"Will do, Professor," Shawn said while giving a boy scout salute and taking the shard. Then he turned and hurried towards their vehicles.

"Lead on, Lieutenant," Cody instructed, frustration at the delay clear in his voice.

Moments later, Cody entered a small building that had been built against one of the monolithic stones that Machu Picchu was famous for. He spotted the Captain in the corner of the room speaking to someone that Cody couldn't see.

"Captain, I understand that you wanted to see me before I left," Cody called hurriedly as he entered. "What can I do for you? I've been told we are short on time."

The Captain turned from the corner to face Cody, and revealed who he had been speaking too. A man was tied to a chair. His ankles were tied to the legs and his arms were tied to the back legs of the chair. His face was bloody and he was glaring at the Captain.

"Yes, Professor," the Captain said, his own frustration clear in his clipped English with a British accent. "Your party may have run out of time. We captured a rebel. He won't talk but we know the rebels have a small force to the south of us as well as the larger force to the north. They want to cut us off. I haven't been able to get anything from this one yet so I don't know where or how many to the south," the Captain concluded, looking over his shoulder at his captive.

"How do you know that he's a rebel?" Cody asked doubtfully as he looked at the shabbily dressed man.

"He is a sniper," the Captain replied angrily. "He killed three of my men before one of my scouts could capture him." He nodded towards a rifle, pistol, and two knives on the table before saying, "He was armed well, too."

Cody nodded and his mouth thinned. He had learned a few things while working in Iraq and Afghanistan, as a Marine. It wasn't knowledge that he was comfortable with, but he would use it if he must. He considered another skill set that he had developed in the Marines. He wasn't completely comfortable with that skill, either. Exposing it in a country still fraught with superstition like Peru could be dangerous. Exposing them in front of this Captain could endanger his whole party. But it was a less brutal solution to getting information, even if it might be a little slower.

"Fast and hard, or slow and sane?" Cody questioned himself under his breath. It was the same question he had asked himself many times in war zones, and circumstances had forced Cody on both sides of the question.

"Senor," Cody said to the man in the chair as he calmly lay his satchel on the table beside the weapons. "I have students that I must protect. We will be going south to Cusco. Will we run into your friends?" Cody asked politely in Spanish.

The man spat at Cody and said, "You will die gringo. The Inca Trail is closed. You will never make it to Cusco"

Cody nodded and proceeded to take the sling from the rifle as he asked, "How many did you need to close the road?"

"Enough to stop anyone from escaping this trap," the tied man yelled angrily.

Cody only nodded again and mildly said, "I really need numbers and the location," as he rearranged the sling buckles.

"I will tell you nothing!" the man screamed at Cody.

Cody sighed and walked over to the man. Cody used the sling to tie the man's upper right calf, just below the knee to the chair. The man couldn't move his knee at all.

"What are you doing?" the Captain asked.

"Sir, I have five students that I need to get out of here. You are going to be too busy to protect us so I need information," Cody said in Spanish so the rebel could understand him. "I'm not involved in your civil war. I don't favor one side over the other. But, I will do whatever I need to do to keep my people safe."

Cody reached over to the table and picked up both of the knives. He inspected them carefully before sheathing the longer knife and laying it on the table. He turned back to the rebel and squatted in front of him while holding up the shorter knife.

"Please, Senor. I don't want to do this, but I will do what I must," Cody said softly.

The rebel only shook his head, eyes wide with fear and Cody sighed. He quickly sliced open the man's trouser leg so his knee was exposed. He touched the man's knee with the tip of the blade and probed, as if looking for the right spot. He looked back at the rebel and raised his eyebrows. The rebels eyes were big, but he shook his head.

Cody grimaced and silently questioned himself again with, 'Fast and brutal, or slow and sane?'

He knew that he could be brutal. He had proven that while working with the Iraqis and Afghanis. There was a spot on the side of the knee cap that he could probe with a knife. It left very little evidence of torture and hardly any blood to clean up but it could cause excruciating pain. His reluctance to follow this path had opened the other way for him. It had been an epiphany, like when he knew just the right place to dig when he was searching for a specific answer to an archeological puzzle. The problem was, he was pretty sure that using his other way in front of this Army Captain could cause more problems than he had time to deal with.

"Maybe I'm getting soft," he muttered to himself in English and with a fair amount of disgust with himself.

He wasn't disgusted with himself for considering the more brutal path. Cody was disgusted with himself for putting his own peace of mind ahead of the safety of his students, and speed was safety in this instance.

'I'll just need to hurry this as quickly as possible, ' he thought to himself grimly.

Cody laid the knife on the table before grasping the man's knee in his left hand. His right hand quickly found a pressure point on the knee that would generate some pain. The goal wasn't to force the man to give him information to stop the pain. The purpose of this pain was to occupy the man's mind while Cody got the information that he needed in other ways.

The rebel tensed when Cody squeezed. Cody met the man's eyes and began speaking softly, almost gently, in Spanish. He held the rebel's eyes and allowed himself to relax as he soothingly urged the man to provide the information that he needed, with words and thoughts. His mind seemed to cautiously touch the rebel's mind and Cody relaxed more, almost sinking into a trance. Cody asked other questions, just to get the rebel in the habit of answering questions. He asked his name. It was Manuel Martinez. He varied the pressure on the rebel's knee, and occasionally changed to a different pressure point so no point would become numb to the pain. How many children ... two boys and a girl. How many were waiting to the south ... five. What was his wife's name ... Maria. Where were they waiting ... at the first river crossing. What month was his birthday ... August. What else should he know ... they will be dressed in soldiers' uniforms. Where was he born ... Lima. How many soldiers were north of the ruins ... less than thirty.

Cody slowly pulled his attention ... his focus back from the rebel and released the man's knee. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out in a long sigh. He glanced at his watch and smiled grimly. A personal best, less than five minutes. But, this man didn't seem to be a hardened fanatic, either. They always took more time.

"Thank you, Senor," Cody said quietly before standing.

Cody met the Captain's wide, startled eyes before looking at the weapons on the table.

"I have the information I need and you have information that you need," Cody said levelly. "Since you don't have the men for an escort, may I take these weapons?" Cody asked politely.

"Of course," the Captain said quickly, stepping back, and performing the sign of the cross.

Cody ignored the captain and picked up the rifle. It was one of the ubiquitous AK-47s but was the better quality, older Type 56 that used to be manufactured in China. There were several magazines with it. The pistol was a Taurus Model 1911 SS in .45ACP. It was a large framed, magazine fed pistol, manufactured in Brazil. It had some extra magazines, too. Cody jammed all the magazines in his pockets, after loading one in each weapon. The pistol went in his belt and the rifle in his left hand. He gazed down at the knives he had laid on the table for a moment. The he sighed, picked the knives up and pushed them into his satchel.

"Captain," Cody said with a nod of acknowledgment before stepping towards the entrance of the hut.

The Captain of the Peruvian Army watched the tall, black haired, Nort' Americano teacher walk out the door with a shiver of fear. He had worked with Americans before, but none had seriously made him afraid. Mostly, Americans seemed to be a soft, ineffectual nationality. The teacher was tall, but not the tallest he had seen. He wasn't more than a couple of inches over six feet. He was obviously fit and didn't seem to carry the extra pounds as did many Americans. But the Captain had felt something during that brief interrogation, and it frightened him. He had experienced similar feelings in the past when danger was nearby. He had interrogated rebels in the eight years he had been fighting them, too, and was no stranger to torture. But, he had felt something and it frightened him more than an overwhelming force of rebels in an ambush. He shook himself, realizing the favor the Americano had done for him by also getting the information about the rebel force to the north. He wondered if, just maybe, if he could learn how to get information like the Nort' Americano. He shivered in fear again, and maybe with a little hope.

Cody could feel the man's wide, disbelieving eyes follow him out the door. Now, he had to hurry before the Capitan decided that it was his duty to God and Church to kill the witch. It had happened before, with the Islamists. An Afghani soldier had shot him, ending his last tour in a combat zone, after Cody had extracted some information from a prisoner. Only the brief flicker of intent had saved Cody from a more serious wound. He chuckled bitterly as he walked hurriedly towards the parking area. He felt like he had been opposing religious fanatics his entire life.

All the religions Cody had brushed against in his life professed peace on earth and loving their fellow man. Unless, of course, you didn't meet the strict prescripts of that religion. That applied equally to the fanatics in Afghanistan, as well as the small town bigots he had encountered on an archeological tour he had made through the bible belt of the USA.

Cody believed in peace on earth and loving his fellow humans. However, his knowledge of ancient languages had enabled him to read the Torah, the Quran, the Bible, the Bhadavad Gita, and the Tanakh in their original versions, without the filters of imperfect or biased translators. Each text painted a picture of tolerance for all life. Each text urged mankind to love life in all its forms. It didn't surprise him that subsequent translations favored whoever was in power at the time. Unfortunately, Cody had learned that peace through strength was the only solution that worked in his world. His odd sense of knowing things had proven to be anathema to the religious zealots he had encountered in his life. That was why he guarded the presence of his ability so carefully.

Cody had seemed to have a 'sixth sense' when working with his parents on dig sites. The ability had manifested itself after his traumatic eleventh birthday. He 'knew' when something important was close by. His mom or his dad would start working in a ruin, and Cody would suggest a different area close by. His parent's quickly learned to pay attention to their son's suggestions. That skill, or ability, was honed for different purposes in the Marines. He 'knew' when captives were innocent or guilty and when they were lying. It didn't take him long to learn how to ask questions and feel how to change the structure of the questions to get the truthful answers he needed. It wasn't mind reading, he didn't think. It was just a feeling he would get about how to ask the next question and the one after that until he reached his goal. That sense had expanded on patrols until he 'knew' when ambushes were about to happen. He 'knew' where the enemy was hiding. He could 'feel' his enemies anger and hatred towards him.

"Mr. McLaughlin," Cody yelled as he approached the vehicles.

"Yes, Professor," Shawn called back.

"Bring one of the two-ways. I need you to ride in the truck," Cody called.

"Okay," Shawn said hesitantly as he got out of the Humvee. "What's going on?"

"Can you handle this?" Cody asked, holding up the AK-47.

"Umm, yeah. I've fired a few and I know how they work. The bullet comes out of that end, right?" Shawn asked drily, pointing at the end of the barrel.

Cody smiled as he nodded and handed Shawn the rifle before saying, "According to a rebel they captured, there will be five rebels in Peruvian Army uniforms at the first river crossing going south. I want you in the second truck, in the back, up next to the cab. You are our 'guardian angel.'" He pulled three magazines out of his pockets handed them to his intern before quietly saying, "I know how you were trained, Shawn. The others can take care of themselves, but I don't know how they will react in an emergency. I know you will fire if necessary. Will you do this?"

Shawn nodded, meeting his Professor's stern gaze. The Professor seldom addressed any of the interns by their given name. It seemed to emphasize the urgency of the situation.

"Good, we need to fly the UN flag with the Smithsonian banner, too," Cody continued. "Make sure the flag mast on the truck is up," he said before turning away.

"Mr. Miller," he called. "Get the UN flag and the Smithsonian banner flying on the Humvee. You'll be driving."

Cody stopped beside the truck cab, hopped up on the running board, and said, "Mr. Martinez. It seems there are some rebels between here and Cusco that may want to stop us. If we see any, I want you to drop down and stay on the floor. Also, you will get an extra one hundred dollars for this trip. Are you okay with that?"

"Si, Professor, but, could I get paid in Nuevo Sol?" Mr. Martinez asked. At Cody's questioning look, he hurriedly explained, "Not many will take American dollars in exchange. Peruvian dollars aren't worth quite as much, but after the cost of exchange at the bank, Peruvian money is worth more. I'm sorry, Professor, but people don't know if US dollars will be honored,"

"Of course, Mr. Martinez. I understand the problem with exchange. I should have thought of that because I had the same problem when we flew down. Thank you for reminding me. Please stay down if we see rebels."

"Si, Professor," Mr. Martinez said. "I will stay down."

"Thank you, Mr. Martinez," Cody said before he jumped down and walked away.

"Professor," Shawn called after him as he walked towards the Humvee. "The rebels aren't going to honor a UN flag."

"I know," Cody called over his shoulder. "Hopefully, it will keep them from opening fire. We're more valuable as hostages for ransom so they'll have to get in close. We don't have the weapons to fight them at a distance. We need to be up-close and personal if we're going to survive this. Just stay down until the party starts. Take out anyone that is out of our reach," Cody concluded in the same tone of voice he had used as a Sergeant.

"Yes, sir," Shawn responded automatically.

Marine Corps training is hard to break.

Brian had released the large radio antenna to its upright position by the time Cody reached the Humvee. The UN flag was ruffling in the light breeze and the smaller Smithsonian banner was draped under it. The Humvee wasn't the military version Cody had used in Afghanistan over a decade earlier. This wonder of modern technology was a civilian version but had been customized to carry more passengers through rough country. Part of the customization included lengthening frame and body. It had additional storage for equipment and supplies behind the back seat and comfortable seating for six.

Cory looked at the flags sourly before getting into the front passenger seat. He would have preferred to be flying an American flag but that would have only invited more people to shoot at them. The United States reputation had been badly tarnished over the last few decades.

"Mr. Sanchez, I believe you have experience firing one of these," Cody said as he handed the pistol to the intern.

"What's going on, Professor?" Amy Ruiz asked, as she warily eyed the pistol.

"According to intelligence sources, there is a small force of rebels to the south of us," Cody replied. "There should only be five of them and they'll be in Peruvian Army uniforms."