The Codex

80

But the shot didn’t come. Tom looked up. Hauser’s attention had suddenly been diverted to something behind them. Tom turned around and saw a flash of black: An animal was bounding along one of the cables of the bridge toward them, a monkey racing along with his tail up — Hairy Bugger.

With a screech of joy Bugger leapt into Tom’s arms, and Tom saw that he had a canister almost as large as himself tied to his midriff. It was the aluminum bottle of white gas from their backpacking stove. There was something scrawled on it—

Tom wondered what the hell it meant, what Sally had in mind.

Hauser raised his gun. “Okay, everybody calm down. Everybody keep still. Now: Show me what it is the monkey just brought you. Slowly.”

All at once, Sally’s plan came to Tom. He untied the canister.

“Hold it out at arm’s length. Let me see it.”

Tom held the cannister out. “It’s a liter of white gas.”

“Toss it over the side.”

Tom spoke quietly. “There’s a sharpshooter on our side who’s got a bead on this bottle as we speak. As you know, white gas is explosively flammable.”

Hauser’s face showed no trace of emotion or reaction. He merely raised his gun.

“Hauser, if she hits this can, the bridge burns. You’ll be cut off. You’ll be trapped in the White City forever.”

Ten electric seconds passed, and then Hauser spoke. “If the bridge burns, you’ll die, too.”

“You’re going to kill us anyway.”

Hauser said, “It’s a bluff.”

Tom did not respond. Seconds ticked by. Hauser’s face betrayed nothing.

Tom said, “Hauser, she might just put a bullet through you.”

Hauser raised his gun, and in that moment a bullet struck the bamboo bridge surface two feet in front of Hauser’s boots with a snick! sending a spray of bamboo splinters up into his face. The report came a moment later, rolling across the chasm.

Hauser hastily lowered his gun muzzle.

“Now that we’ve established this is not bullshit, you tell your soldiers to let us pass.”

“And?” said Hauser.

“You can have the bridge, the tomb, and the Codex. All we want is our lives.”

Now Hauser shouldered his weapon. “My compliments,” he said.

Tom, with slow movements, took the canister and, using a loose piece of twine from the bridge, tied it around one of the main cables.

“Tell your men to let us pass. You stay where you are. If anything bad happens to us, our sharpshooter shoots the canister and your precious bridge burns with you on it. Understand?”

Hauser nodded.

“I didn’t hear the order, Hauser.”

Hauser cupped his hands over his mouth. “Men!” he called in Spanish. “Let them leave! Do not molest them as they go! I am releasing them!”

There was a pause.

Hauser shouted, “I want a response to that order!”

“Sí, señor,” came the reply.

The Broadbents began walking off the bridge.