Chapter 32: Traditional Villainous Rant
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I stare as Dick stands there, naked except for his useless civilian clothes.
"You don't..." Dinah sounds as stunned as I feel.
Then comprehension dawns. No wonder Dick is the tactician of his generation. The slaughter of a few dozen Indians might be covered over, but an assault on a fellow 'gentleman'? Not so quick to evaporate. Especially when an outraged Wayne would have the money and lawyers to counter every move. True, assault won't get Gomez the years that murder should, but even if he manages to get off with minimal time? It's better then nothing. "You and I..." I begin.
Dick shakes his head. "Wayne would be treated with kid gloves." He pulls out his silver shield and pins it carefully to the front of his shirt.
"Murder is a crime." Dick tucks his gear neatly into the back pack. "Criminals get arrested." His voice drops into the slow cadence of a mantra. "That what *police* are for." He shakes his head, then give me his best 'Robin' grin. "It's just a lot easier when the crime comes with a couple of witnesses. And maybe videotape,"
He hands the bag to a confused Mayfair. " And here I thought all my time with the vice squad was wasted."
Dinah looks slightly shocked."Entrapment, Dick?"
Dick chuckles, low and slightly nasty. "Not if the other guy asks first."
She bites her lip, looking at me even as she speaks to Dick. "OK, Dick. So you and I..."
"No." Dick shakes his head. "Jones." The gray look comes over his face, the one that means he's thinking about Bludhaven, and something that isn't a job for Nightwing but damn well ought to be. "Because I want them for something capital."
And - I hear the unspoken coda - rape doesn't qualify. But assault on a peace officer? Attempted murder of a peace officer? If we can even half tie Gomez to the drug trade, that just might.
I listen, but the howl is silent. The parrot screeches in protest. No mater. The plan is set.
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Jones has Dinah's necklace, and I can hear him muttering as he and Dick make their was to the common path at the far side of the camp. "I still don't like the sound of this."
I focus my binoculars on Dick. He is barely visible as a rustle in the foliage, but close enough to Jones to give me a double echo through both transceivers. "What's the worst that could happen?" I hear him quip.
"You mean, other then after they capture us, drug is into paralysis, drag us to the top of that pyramid, hack open our chests,and pull out our still beating hearts?"
Dick shrugs. I see it as he passes between two trees. "Other than that."
I'm picking up the archaeologists hat at the edge of the greenery. In a few steps the sentries should spot them. This is the risky part. If the guards fire first? Jones will be fine, but Dick is at least six seconds away. Too damn far for my tastes, but... I focus in on the nearest sentry, who is just beginning to track the movement.
There's a big bird over his head. Hopefully that's a good thing.
As the Inca soldier moves out, I hear Jones say. "Nothing I can think of, kid. But give me time."
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Phase one over. Dick and Jones have been captured. There was a rough moment when the lead sentry was saying something I didn't like the sound of. I don't care if I don't speak the language, there are some sentiments that *can* be picked up just from sound. But soldiers are soldiers and after a few threats sentry-boy decided to hand the problem off to his sergeant, who displayed the universal tendency to pass problems over to his own boss, who in turn had the sense to shove the whole problem up the line. All the way up the line. Which is why Dick and Jones are currently being frog marched up to the pyramid. To the priest who is clearly second-in-command.
The good part is - I have an excellent view of the proceedings.
The bad part is - I still can't go in. And in a few moments, Mr. Feathers-and -fur isn't going to be any happier then his soldiers.
There is a certain amount of ceremony. I assume the Savage crowd know what's being said, but I don't bother to get a translation. The action is clear enough. Two intruders captures by the soldiers being so alert. Basic CYA.
One of the soldier types pushes Dick to his knees.
I make a note of the man's face.
The feather-head priest in the cat-skin coat says something.
Jones says something.
Gomez comes up and whispers something to the priest. I don't catch it, but it's in Spanish. Apparently Gomez wasn't big on Inca as a second language.
The priest says something Jones. Very likely a command.
Jones says something to the priest. Very likely an obscenity.
The soldier shoves both men forward, snarling something.
Dick ignores him, twisting to face the 'Spanish' at the other side.
"Mr. Gomez?" I hear Dick say. "Mr. Arturo Gomez? You are under arrest for the murder of one Ms. Huasa Chakpac."
That must be the river girls name. I never learned it, but Dick did. He does things like that.
Gomez looks stunned. Not just at the name, which he wouldn't know either, but more that Dick would even bring up something so ... irrelevant.
Dick continues, "You have the.."
The soldier cuts him off with a slap to the face. Same man as last time. We will definitely have to have a talk when this is over.
"Please." Gomez steps forward. I can see his smirk from here. "Aren't you a little out or your jurisdiction?"
I can't see Dick's face, but his back straightens. "Hot pursuit, Mr. Gomez."
Gomez makes a gesture. Dick gets another slap. I'd put Gomez on the chat list too, but he's already there.
"Where is Wayne?" Gomez asks.
"Wouldn't you think he'd be back in Santa Amoza by now?" Dick sounds snide enough to be channeling Jason. " Your pirates didn't leave much of the boat."
"Not mine." Gomez preens a little, obviously delighted to be thought even more of a villain then he actually is. " But they did do me a service if they sent Wayne back to Santa Amoza. I would *so* hate to lose his lumber contract." Gomez considers that, as if counting the money he *thinks* he will get. " Although I suppose that wont much matter - once I..." he catches himself, and I watch him sketch a slight bow toward the fancy bench in front of the pyramid. "Once Amhacutec Inca has his rightful throne."
I hear Dick's voice get slower. Careful. "So for the record you confess you *do* plan to.."
Gomez cuts him off. Not with a slap this time, just a laugh. "Sacrifice the Jaguar God and Capture the City of Gold? Naturally. I mean, what else *is* there in this..." Gomez falls silent.
The fuss has attracted Amhacutec's attention, and while he's too conscious of looking 'royal' to rush, he's still made his way over. "Que es esto?"
Spanish. Apparently Amhacutec and his priest take a bit more multi-lingual approach. Good. Not that the question wasn't obvious. And not that I couldn't get a simultaneous translation. Still, I prefer my own ears.
"Arrepentido, su Majesty." Gomez speaks up, pouring on the oil. " Usted recuerda al Americano loco que dije usted acercade? Esto es su guardia del cuerpo. Y guia del viaje."
Gomez is trying to resurrect the Inca Empire, and I'm the crazy one? Not even Orin would vote for that! But at least he seems to have swallowed Dick's cover story. And Jones', of course.
Gomez gives Amhacutec another bow, just for good measure, before he continues. "Y Aparentemente ellos tienen..."
"Se ofrecio a unirnos?" the priest finishes for him.
Gomez laughs, clearly amused by the double meaning of 'volunteer'. I don't laugh, but I do smile a bit. They are taking the bait. Just as Dick said.
Amhacutec gives Dick an accessing look. "Hay esto. Que usted piensa?"
There is another babble of words between the Inca prince and his second. Several gestures, most of them towards the altar or back at the waiting cage. Normally I wouldn't take it for a good sign, but under the circumstances?
After a minute, Amhacutec barks out an order, then leaves.
Gomez smiles at Dick. It's not a pleasant smile. "It turns out, Mr. Grayson, that we are in need of a sacrifice to bless out march." Then he turns to Jones. " Even two sacrifices. And while you are not *quite* the treat to the eyes that our young friend is, Dr. Jones, I am sure the Gods will find you much more worthy then those sorry captives we managed to drag up from the river villages."
Jones shrugs. "I never argue religion with a priest. Or a God."
Gomez laughs as the guards pull the two men to their feet. "Think of it this way, Dr. Jones. You will have a perspective on the ritual that is rarely granted. What a pity you will not be able to publish."
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The guards get in a few more blows as they drag Dick and Jones over to the wicker work cage and toss them in. This hurts like hell to watch - but sometimes to get the bust you have to stomach the crime. Not a theory I universally agree with - but in this case I see the logic.
The sentry took the pistols off both men before taking them to the pyramid. I have no idea where those are now. I don't see them on the guards, so it's probably not important. Jones can buy another, and as for Dick? It wont be the first Police Issue he's 'lost' doing 'overtime'. Redhorn can just send me the bill.
Fortunately the cage is set in the open, so I still have visual. Not that our equipment can't handle stone, but I am more comfortable with Dick where I can get to him quickly. And Jones, of course. Not that he's in any particular danger.
More fortunately, the guards didn't strip the pair. More proof that we are dealing with civilians. Although, I grant reluctantly, remarkably well disciplined civilians. I had expected them to steal Dinah's necklace, but Jones still has it. Dick's transceiver is also on. Good. I have sent Dinah to higher ground with orders to watch the far side of the camp. If it gets truly risky, we will go in.
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Eighteen minutes later - by Oracle - when the guards come back. This time They have a third man. Native. Clearly a prisoner. Not in the best shape, but not so injured that we need to change the plan. He can be left here until the secondary action - probably.
I scan the leaf canopy. I don't know quite which bird is J'onn, but I assume he is still in contact with Oracle. If necessary he can evacuate one non -combatant if necessary. Only if necessary. If there's going to be court testimony, then the JLA is the *last* group Bruce Wayne wants involved.
That can wait for later. Dick is talking to the man.
"Es lastimado usted?" I hear Dick say as he bends over the man, blocking my view. I assume if Dick has to ask if someone is hurt, the answer is no.
There is a smattering of thumps and mutters. I think Dick is helping him over to the far corner, where is there is a bench of sorts. Not much, but the brace pole where the walls intersect will at least give the man something stable to lean against.
When the audio comes back he is talking to Dick. "Grayson. Senior Dick Grayson. Recuuerdo. Usted me dio un paseo."
Interesting bit of political insight there. He remembers Dick and presumedly Jones from last Wednesday, and doesn't seem particularly shocked to find them both in this make-shift hoosegow. Which would indicate that the 'student' problem is a lot worse then the government is letting on. Not that the gun runners and drug dealers I would have worried about last week are anything compared to Gomez, but? I'll have a word with Kal about getting a bit more help down here.
"Ramon Quesada. El hombre con las ollas." Dick, of course, recognizes him at once. "Como obtuvo usted aqui?"
Now how he got here *is* an interesting question. If I recall his chat with Dick correctly, the man is an Aztec - and something of a loyalist. I wouldn't expect him to join with an Inca coup.
"Visitaria los parientes in Yankuikan," he tells Dick. "Pero pare a hacer algun negocio Porto Chakpac apenas asado y...." I see him wave vaguely at the surrounding soldiers. "ellos me asieron."
That would fit. Relatives in Teplitzin's city would explain the man's... unusual politics, and going by Jones kidnapping is par for the course around here.
Jones has been leaving the chat to Dick, but now his mike goes active."I assume Quesada here is our 'court'," I hear him tell Dick.
"Court?"
"Sure." Jones pulls Dick aside. Not that they can get very far in that little cage. And I seriously doubt that Quesada speaks any English. He wouldn't have had any reason to conceal it earlier. But still - Jones is apparently taking things seriously. "All good royals get a attendants." I hear him explain. "Like I said - these guys need to off someone 'important' to get on Wiracocha's good side. Technically a royal. But since they personally aren't exactly eager to move upstairs?" I catch his sudden glance at the alter, where the fur clad priest is doing something with the fires. I assume Jones knows what it means, and from his expression it's not particularly pleasant bit of knowledge. "They promote some prisoner or disposable peasant, and let then take the ax. Or in this case dagger." He looks at the altar again, then back at Dick. "Think of it as being 'King for a Day'."
"TV show?" I see Dick shake his head. "Sorry. Before my time."
"You aren't missing much." Jones has his back to me, but I don't need to see his face. I can hear the smirk. "Anyway. You play Amhacutec. I fill in for the priest guy." He shoots a thumb back at the busy pyramid. "And number three here covers for Gomez."
"I'd like that show better with the original cast." Dick turns his attention to the altar. "How long do you think we have?"
That's the killer question. Literally. I catch myself holding my breath as I wait for his answer, not certain what answer I even want. I don't like the thought of Dick in that cage, but still? Compared to certain *others* parts of the local architecture? It's one of the better choices.
I can see Jones thinking, Checking out the ritual activity, then squinting up at the small bit of sky that is viable through the general foliage. "Not long. Savage would wait until Friday. Gomez needs to take the city before then, or his Inca allies will lose the religious advantage. He'll need all Thursday to move the army, and that's without leaving much time for the fight itself."
Nothing there I don't know - but it's still hard to hear. Time is the one enemy I cant defeat, and the one thing I can't call upstairs to get more of.
"Wednesday, then?" Dick asks. "Tomorrow?"
"If Amhacutec here wants to march as a demigod?" The two mikes give the archaeologist's voice a rather ominous echo. "I'd say tomorrow morning - perhaps even tonight."
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Jones - apparently - is correct. It's only about an hour later when Gomez collects what looks like a handful of oversized dinner rolls of of the pyramid fires and drops them into the prisoners cage. Interesting advantage to wicker. Or disadvantage, if you chose. no need to open the door and risk the traditional 'bash the guard with the dinner tray' maneuver. Not that Dick had any such plan in mind, but still.
Jones takes a sniff at one. i can hear it over his necklace transmitter. "Sancu. Sacred bread. Made with corn, water, and just a bit of human blood. About half baked. Tastes like shit."
He passes on to Quesada, who devours it. Either the man is considerably less picky, or Gomez has not been putting much effort into feeding his prisoners. From Dick's expression, I'd guess the later.
"Figures." Dick picks up one of the loafs with two fingers - about the way he would collect some particularly contaminating bit of evidence, back in Bludhaven. "Bruce is always complaining about the rubber chicken." He tosses his own loaf into the corner. He may be missing dinner, his expression says, but after that list of ingredients?
"Hey" My ear piece crackles as Jones shouts at Gomez. "What happened to the feast? The dancing girls?"
"Don't worry, Dr. Jones." Gomez's voice is almost a purr. "You wont be hungry for long." He slides in a plain pottery jug. "Here. Pure water." After a pause - and some fairly blatant grimaces on Jones' part - Gomez adds. "Boiled, I assure you. We wouldn't want you to get ill."
Jones spins the jug slowly. Even from here I recognize the expression. It usually precedes the words 'Really, Mr. Gomez, I must rather question the authenticity...." Going by the mike, he has the voice down too. "I thought this was supposed to be gold and jade?"
Gomez laughs. "The local Inca now have very forgiving Gods. And sadly, rather economical ones. At least, until tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Jones somehow manages to sound both interested and indifferent. Good trick.
"Tomorrow Amhacutec's army will capture the City of Gold. And when the old Jaguar God is dead? The combined armies will march on Yankuikan, then up the river. Within a month they will have reclaimed Tawantinsuya. Within the year? Hidalgo, Santa Amoza, even Santa Prisca. The Land of Four Directions will again rule the continent!"
"Sounds great. Amhacutec's a lucky stiff." Jones' voice is less then convinced. "But what's in it for you?"
Gomez preens. I can see it from here. Without field glasses. "*I* will rule Amhacutec!"
*END CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO*
Sorry about the delay. Real Life is a PAIN!
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I stare as Dick stands there, naked except for his useless civilian clothes.
"You don't..." Dinah sounds as stunned as I feel.
Then comprehension dawns. No wonder Dick is the tactician of his generation. The slaughter of a few dozen Indians might be covered over, but an assault on a fellow 'gentleman'? Not so quick to evaporate. Especially when an outraged Wayne would have the money and lawyers to counter every move. True, assault won't get Gomez the years that murder should, but even if he manages to get off with minimal time? It's better then nothing. "You and I..." I begin.
Dick shakes his head. "Wayne would be treated with kid gloves." He pulls out his silver shield and pins it carefully to the front of his shirt.
"Murder is a crime." Dick tucks his gear neatly into the back pack. "Criminals get arrested." His voice drops into the slow cadence of a mantra. "That what *police* are for." He shakes his head, then give me his best 'Robin' grin. "It's just a lot easier when the crime comes with a couple of witnesses. And maybe videotape,"
He hands the bag to a confused Mayfair. " And here I thought all my time with the vice squad was wasted."
Dinah looks slightly shocked."Entrapment, Dick?"
Dick chuckles, low and slightly nasty. "Not if the other guy asks first."
She bites her lip, looking at me even as she speaks to Dick. "OK, Dick. So you and I..."
"No." Dick shakes his head. "Jones." The gray look comes over his face, the one that means he's thinking about Bludhaven, and something that isn't a job for Nightwing but damn well ought to be. "Because I want them for something capital."
And - I hear the unspoken coda - rape doesn't qualify. But assault on a peace officer? Attempted murder of a peace officer? If we can even half tie Gomez to the drug trade, that just might.
I listen, but the howl is silent. The parrot screeches in protest. No mater. The plan is set.
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Jones has Dinah's necklace, and I can hear him muttering as he and Dick make their was to the common path at the far side of the camp. "I still don't like the sound of this."
I focus my binoculars on Dick. He is barely visible as a rustle in the foliage, but close enough to Jones to give me a double echo through both transceivers. "What's the worst that could happen?" I hear him quip.
"You mean, other then after they capture us, drug is into paralysis, drag us to the top of that pyramid, hack open our chests,and pull out our still beating hearts?"
Dick shrugs. I see it as he passes between two trees. "Other than that."
I'm picking up the archaeologists hat at the edge of the greenery. In a few steps the sentries should spot them. This is the risky part. If the guards fire first? Jones will be fine, but Dick is at least six seconds away. Too damn far for my tastes, but... I focus in on the nearest sentry, who is just beginning to track the movement.
There's a big bird over his head. Hopefully that's a good thing.
As the Inca soldier moves out, I hear Jones say. "Nothing I can think of, kid. But give me time."
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Phase one over. Dick and Jones have been captured. There was a rough moment when the lead sentry was saying something I didn't like the sound of. I don't care if I don't speak the language, there are some sentiments that *can* be picked up just from sound. But soldiers are soldiers and after a few threats sentry-boy decided to hand the problem off to his sergeant, who displayed the universal tendency to pass problems over to his own boss, who in turn had the sense to shove the whole problem up the line. All the way up the line. Which is why Dick and Jones are currently being frog marched up to the pyramid. To the priest who is clearly second-in-command.
The good part is - I have an excellent view of the proceedings.
The bad part is - I still can't go in. And in a few moments, Mr. Feathers-and -fur isn't going to be any happier then his soldiers.
There is a certain amount of ceremony. I assume the Savage crowd know what's being said, but I don't bother to get a translation. The action is clear enough. Two intruders captures by the soldiers being so alert. Basic CYA.
One of the soldier types pushes Dick to his knees.
I make a note of the man's face.
The feather-head priest in the cat-skin coat says something.
Jones says something.
Gomez comes up and whispers something to the priest. I don't catch it, but it's in Spanish. Apparently Gomez wasn't big on Inca as a second language.
The priest says something Jones. Very likely a command.
Jones says something to the priest. Very likely an obscenity.
The soldier shoves both men forward, snarling something.
Dick ignores him, twisting to face the 'Spanish' at the other side.
"Mr. Gomez?" I hear Dick say. "Mr. Arturo Gomez? You are under arrest for the murder of one Ms. Huasa Chakpac."
That must be the river girls name. I never learned it, but Dick did. He does things like that.
Gomez looks stunned. Not just at the name, which he wouldn't know either, but more that Dick would even bring up something so ... irrelevant.
Dick continues, "You have the.."
The soldier cuts him off with a slap to the face. Same man as last time. We will definitely have to have a talk when this is over.
"Please." Gomez steps forward. I can see his smirk from here. "Aren't you a little out or your jurisdiction?"
I can't see Dick's face, but his back straightens. "Hot pursuit, Mr. Gomez."
Gomez makes a gesture. Dick gets another slap. I'd put Gomez on the chat list too, but he's already there.
"Where is Wayne?" Gomez asks.
"Wouldn't you think he'd be back in Santa Amoza by now?" Dick sounds snide enough to be channeling Jason. " Your pirates didn't leave much of the boat."
"Not mine." Gomez preens a little, obviously delighted to be thought even more of a villain then he actually is. " But they did do me a service if they sent Wayne back to Santa Amoza. I would *so* hate to lose his lumber contract." Gomez considers that, as if counting the money he *thinks* he will get. " Although I suppose that wont much matter - once I..." he catches himself, and I watch him sketch a slight bow toward the fancy bench in front of the pyramid. "Once Amhacutec Inca has his rightful throne."
I hear Dick's voice get slower. Careful. "So for the record you confess you *do* plan to.."
Gomez cuts him off. Not with a slap this time, just a laugh. "Sacrifice the Jaguar God and Capture the City of Gold? Naturally. I mean, what else *is* there in this..." Gomez falls silent.
The fuss has attracted Amhacutec's attention, and while he's too conscious of looking 'royal' to rush, he's still made his way over. "Que es esto?"
Spanish. Apparently Amhacutec and his priest take a bit more multi-lingual approach. Good. Not that the question wasn't obvious. And not that I couldn't get a simultaneous translation. Still, I prefer my own ears.
"Arrepentido, su Majesty." Gomez speaks up, pouring on the oil. " Usted recuerda al Americano loco que dije usted acercade? Esto es su guardia del cuerpo. Y guia del viaje."
Gomez is trying to resurrect the Inca Empire, and I'm the crazy one? Not even Orin would vote for that! But at least he seems to have swallowed Dick's cover story. And Jones', of course.
Gomez gives Amhacutec another bow, just for good measure, before he continues. "Y Aparentemente ellos tienen..."
"Se ofrecio a unirnos?" the priest finishes for him.
Gomez laughs, clearly amused by the double meaning of 'volunteer'. I don't laugh, but I do smile a bit. They are taking the bait. Just as Dick said.
Amhacutec gives Dick an accessing look. "Hay esto. Que usted piensa?"
There is another babble of words between the Inca prince and his second. Several gestures, most of them towards the altar or back at the waiting cage. Normally I wouldn't take it for a good sign, but under the circumstances?
After a minute, Amhacutec barks out an order, then leaves.
Gomez smiles at Dick. It's not a pleasant smile. "It turns out, Mr. Grayson, that we are in need of a sacrifice to bless out march." Then he turns to Jones. " Even two sacrifices. And while you are not *quite* the treat to the eyes that our young friend is, Dr. Jones, I am sure the Gods will find you much more worthy then those sorry captives we managed to drag up from the river villages."
Jones shrugs. "I never argue religion with a priest. Or a God."
Gomez laughs as the guards pull the two men to their feet. "Think of it this way, Dr. Jones. You will have a perspective on the ritual that is rarely granted. What a pity you will not be able to publish."
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The guards get in a few more blows as they drag Dick and Jones over to the wicker work cage and toss them in. This hurts like hell to watch - but sometimes to get the bust you have to stomach the crime. Not a theory I universally agree with - but in this case I see the logic.
The sentry took the pistols off both men before taking them to the pyramid. I have no idea where those are now. I don't see them on the guards, so it's probably not important. Jones can buy another, and as for Dick? It wont be the first Police Issue he's 'lost' doing 'overtime'. Redhorn can just send me the bill.
Fortunately the cage is set in the open, so I still have visual. Not that our equipment can't handle stone, but I am more comfortable with Dick where I can get to him quickly. And Jones, of course. Not that he's in any particular danger.
More fortunately, the guards didn't strip the pair. More proof that we are dealing with civilians. Although, I grant reluctantly, remarkably well disciplined civilians. I had expected them to steal Dinah's necklace, but Jones still has it. Dick's transceiver is also on. Good. I have sent Dinah to higher ground with orders to watch the far side of the camp. If it gets truly risky, we will go in.
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Eighteen minutes later - by Oracle - when the guards come back. This time They have a third man. Native. Clearly a prisoner. Not in the best shape, but not so injured that we need to change the plan. He can be left here until the secondary action - probably.
I scan the leaf canopy. I don't know quite which bird is J'onn, but I assume he is still in contact with Oracle. If necessary he can evacuate one non -combatant if necessary. Only if necessary. If there's going to be court testimony, then the JLA is the *last* group Bruce Wayne wants involved.
That can wait for later. Dick is talking to the man.
"Es lastimado usted?" I hear Dick say as he bends over the man, blocking my view. I assume if Dick has to ask if someone is hurt, the answer is no.
There is a smattering of thumps and mutters. I think Dick is helping him over to the far corner, where is there is a bench of sorts. Not much, but the brace pole where the walls intersect will at least give the man something stable to lean against.
When the audio comes back he is talking to Dick. "Grayson. Senior Dick Grayson. Recuuerdo. Usted me dio un paseo."
Interesting bit of political insight there. He remembers Dick and presumedly Jones from last Wednesday, and doesn't seem particularly shocked to find them both in this make-shift hoosegow. Which would indicate that the 'student' problem is a lot worse then the government is letting on. Not that the gun runners and drug dealers I would have worried about last week are anything compared to Gomez, but? I'll have a word with Kal about getting a bit more help down here.
"Ramon Quesada. El hombre con las ollas." Dick, of course, recognizes him at once. "Como obtuvo usted aqui?"
Now how he got here *is* an interesting question. If I recall his chat with Dick correctly, the man is an Aztec - and something of a loyalist. I wouldn't expect him to join with an Inca coup.
"Visitaria los parientes in Yankuikan," he tells Dick. "Pero pare a hacer algun negocio Porto Chakpac apenas asado y...." I see him wave vaguely at the surrounding soldiers. "ellos me asieron."
That would fit. Relatives in Teplitzin's city would explain the man's... unusual politics, and going by Jones kidnapping is par for the course around here.
Jones has been leaving the chat to Dick, but now his mike goes active."I assume Quesada here is our 'court'," I hear him tell Dick.
"Court?"
"Sure." Jones pulls Dick aside. Not that they can get very far in that little cage. And I seriously doubt that Quesada speaks any English. He wouldn't have had any reason to conceal it earlier. But still - Jones is apparently taking things seriously. "All good royals get a attendants." I hear him explain. "Like I said - these guys need to off someone 'important' to get on Wiracocha's good side. Technically a royal. But since they personally aren't exactly eager to move upstairs?" I catch his sudden glance at the alter, where the fur clad priest is doing something with the fires. I assume Jones knows what it means, and from his expression it's not particularly pleasant bit of knowledge. "They promote some prisoner or disposable peasant, and let then take the ax. Or in this case dagger." He looks at the altar again, then back at Dick. "Think of it as being 'King for a Day'."
"TV show?" I see Dick shake his head. "Sorry. Before my time."
"You aren't missing much." Jones has his back to me, but I don't need to see his face. I can hear the smirk. "Anyway. You play Amhacutec. I fill in for the priest guy." He shoots a thumb back at the busy pyramid. "And number three here covers for Gomez."
"I'd like that show better with the original cast." Dick turns his attention to the altar. "How long do you think we have?"
That's the killer question. Literally. I catch myself holding my breath as I wait for his answer, not certain what answer I even want. I don't like the thought of Dick in that cage, but still? Compared to certain *others* parts of the local architecture? It's one of the better choices.
I can see Jones thinking, Checking out the ritual activity, then squinting up at the small bit of sky that is viable through the general foliage. "Not long. Savage would wait until Friday. Gomez needs to take the city before then, or his Inca allies will lose the religious advantage. He'll need all Thursday to move the army, and that's without leaving much time for the fight itself."
Nothing there I don't know - but it's still hard to hear. Time is the one enemy I cant defeat, and the one thing I can't call upstairs to get more of.
"Wednesday, then?" Dick asks. "Tomorrow?"
"If Amhacutec here wants to march as a demigod?" The two mikes give the archaeologist's voice a rather ominous echo. "I'd say tomorrow morning - perhaps even tonight."
^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^) ^^V^^ (^V^)
Jones - apparently - is correct. It's only about an hour later when Gomez collects what looks like a handful of oversized dinner rolls of of the pyramid fires and drops them into the prisoners cage. Interesting advantage to wicker. Or disadvantage, if you chose. no need to open the door and risk the traditional 'bash the guard with the dinner tray' maneuver. Not that Dick had any such plan in mind, but still.
Jones takes a sniff at one. i can hear it over his necklace transmitter. "Sancu. Sacred bread. Made with corn, water, and just a bit of human blood. About half baked. Tastes like shit."
He passes on to Quesada, who devours it. Either the man is considerably less picky, or Gomez has not been putting much effort into feeding his prisoners. From Dick's expression, I'd guess the later.
"Figures." Dick picks up one of the loafs with two fingers - about the way he would collect some particularly contaminating bit of evidence, back in Bludhaven. "Bruce is always complaining about the rubber chicken." He tosses his own loaf into the corner. He may be missing dinner, his expression says, but after that list of ingredients?
"Hey" My ear piece crackles as Jones shouts at Gomez. "What happened to the feast? The dancing girls?"
"Don't worry, Dr. Jones." Gomez's voice is almost a purr. "You wont be hungry for long." He slides in a plain pottery jug. "Here. Pure water." After a pause - and some fairly blatant grimaces on Jones' part - Gomez adds. "Boiled, I assure you. We wouldn't want you to get ill."
Jones spins the jug slowly. Even from here I recognize the expression. It usually precedes the words 'Really, Mr. Gomez, I must rather question the authenticity...." Going by the mike, he has the voice down too. "I thought this was supposed to be gold and jade?"
Gomez laughs. "The local Inca now have very forgiving Gods. And sadly, rather economical ones. At least, until tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Jones somehow manages to sound both interested and indifferent. Good trick.
"Tomorrow Amhacutec's army will capture the City of Gold. And when the old Jaguar God is dead? The combined armies will march on Yankuikan, then up the river. Within a month they will have reclaimed Tawantinsuya. Within the year? Hidalgo, Santa Amoza, even Santa Prisca. The Land of Four Directions will again rule the continent!"
"Sounds great. Amhacutec's a lucky stiff." Jones' voice is less then convinced. "But what's in it for you?"
Gomez preens. I can see it from here. Without field glasses. "*I* will rule Amhacutec!"
*END CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO*
Sorry about the delay. Real Life is a PAIN!