Massacre

My caution, as it turned out, was unnecessary. There was no one left alive to threaten us. Fifteen or sixteen Tongans in native dress had been slaughtered here. Most were shot in the back, many at point-blank range. The entire ceremonial area in front of the temple was on fire, but the fire was slowly dying out because the vegetation was still wet from the storm. I recognized the shell casings as having come from several AK-47's and/or AK-49's, a type of automatic weapon made in dozens of factories around the world, based on a venerable Soviet original. Cheap, reliable and nearly impossible to trace. The favored weapon of mercenaries everywhere.

Satisfied that the coast appeared to be clear, I waved for Laughlin to join me, ready to return fire if anyone opened up on him. Just as he reached me, I heard the thrum of a motor on the far side of the island. It sounded like it was receding. And possibly not one large motor but several small ones. I motioned for Laughlin to stay put and keep an eye on the temple, then, still moving carefully and sticking to cover where I could, I climbed the ridge for a better vantage point.

By the last rays of the setting sun, I saw a ship floating a mile or so beyond the island. Several streaks of white on the water betrayed the positions of large rafts. On each raft was set a large crate. All the rafts were converging on the ship. Using my binoculars, I managed to make out the name of the ship on the stern. It said "Proud Ariane" and was homeported in New Orleans. Why was I not surprised?

I quickly scurried back down to rejoin Laughlin. "Looks like Stroeker grabbed the statues," I informed him. "There's a bunch of large motored rafts heading away from the island towards a ship a mile out, each of them with a large crate. The ship's the Proud Ariane out of New Orleans. I wonder why he moved before dark?"

"I think that's why," he said, pointing the other way. Several long white wakes could be seen, trailing canoes coming from the big island toward us. Obviously coming to investigate the gunshots. It didn't take a genius to realize that we didn't want to be here when they arrived. At the rate they were moving, I wasn't sure we'd be able to check the temple for the missing missionary and depart before they got here. It would be close. We'd definitely be seen leaving the island. I thought of having Laughlin move the boat to the other side of the island while I was in the temple, figuring that if most of the beach couldn't be seen from the temple entrance, the reverse should also be true. Then I remembered that the ocean side of the island had a twenty-foot cliff. No beach. No dice. And trying to get the injured man out through the cave was no more of an option than it had been the first time.

Feeling somewhat foolish, I turned to Laughlin and asked, "I don't suppose you have any way to prevent them from seeing us when we leave? I have to check the temple for the missionary."

"Leave them to me," he said. "Hurry."

I nodded, and began running towards the temple entrance. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. I wasn't sure I really believed he could do anything. But when you got right down to it, it didn't really matter Whether he could help or not, my actions would be the same. I had to get that man out of here.

I passed five or six more bodies in the ceremonial area in front of the temple, then one just inside of the entrance. Remembering my last visit, I slowed once I reached the slimy stairs, descending them very carefully so I didn't wind up sliding towards that nasty pit again. Upon reaching the altar room, I ran for the side room where the cells were, and found the missionary there, chained, beaten and unconscious. The keys were hanging by the door like they were the last time, and I quickly unchained the man, picked him up, and got out of there as fast as I could without slipping and falling.

There was a definite sense of deja-vu as I emerged onto the beach, carrying the man. "Here!" Laughlin's voice whispered. I saw him when he moved, but he blended perfectly into the foliage when he was still. The effect was undeniable. Unexplainable. The boat was nowhere to be seen. He brushed a thumb over my forehead and that of the unconscious man. "Here they come," he said. "Stay still and keep him quiet."

I complied immediately, keeping an eye on the man and holding one hand over his mouth in case he showed signs of stirring. A large party of natives, numbering twenty or more and bearing pistols, machetes and rifles, stormed the shore, yelling in anger at the sight of the dead bodies. They fanned out across the island and there were more cries of anger where each new body was found. Then there was a loud argument up near the temple. Those natives still on the beach moved up toward the temple to take part. One voice silenced all the others, and barked out a string of words. Shortly thereafter, the entire group of native men could be heard chanting in unison, a slow and sonorous chant.

"That's our cue to move out," whispered Laughlin.

"Lead the way," I whispered back. "I'll get him." I lifted the man as gently as I could, not wanting to jar him and make him cry out. We stealthily loaded the injured man into the raft and drifted toward the reef. Onshore, the chanting continued unabated.

"I don't even want to know what they're cooking up over there. And I really don't want to be there when they're done cooking."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think something is going to happen when they are finished?"

"Let's call it a hunch and say that the farther away we are, the better."

"All right. Are there any paddles on this thing?"

"Nope. We're going to have to use the motor soon."

I looked over at the island, which was now about 200 feet away. Still too close. At this distance, the chanting they were doing wasn't going to be loud enough to drown out the sound of the motor. The minute we started the motor, they'd know we were here. I looked back at Laughlin. "Your hunch, your call."

"If we just float here, they'll find us anyway," he observed. "Hit it."

I started the motor and opened the throttle wide, figuring that if the natives were going to hear us anyway, we may as well go as fast as safely possible. Much to my surprise, the natives paid us no apparent attention. The chanting did not stop. No pursuit was attempted. As Avua'tuopavo fell behind us, I looked at Laughlin and said, "I'm going to head for the beach near the hotel, unless you have a better idea."

He didn't, and it seemed like only moments later that we were at the hotel. Unfortunately, the nurse had gone off duty for the evening. The hotel staff directed us to take the man to her station while they tried to find her. Given that they had no trouble seeing any of us, whatever it was that Laughlin did to us on the island appeared to have worn off. After laying the man down on a cot, I commented, "What are the odds that they're actually trying to find the nurse?"

"I doubt the whole hotel is working for the cult. If they are, we're probably dead."

"I hope you're right. There's not much we can do about it, in any case." I smiled slightly. "At least you were wrong about the chanting."

"Now I hope you're right. All we need to do is make it through the night, get off this island and fly out of Nuku'alofa tomorrow. Can you contact anybody at the FBI and have them intercept that ship?"

"I can call my partner, for starters. Hmm, might not be a bad idea to do that now, actually." I looked around the room, figuring the nurse's station must have a phone. I spotted it almost immediately. It took several minutes for the call to go through, but I eventually got through to David. He said he'd look into it, but noted that we couldn't do anything until the ship entered U.S. waters, and that would be weeks away. I'd be home in two days. Which I knew, but much like with the report, I figured that this way, if anything happened to me, they'd have the information. Given the two attempts on my life, I'd rather be safe than sorry.

I hung up the phone feeling a bit relieved. "That's all set. Just in case you turn out to be right about the chanting, after all. So, I guess we're stuck here until morning. Not quite the way I thought I'd be spending the last night of my vacation." I grinned.

"It's definitely not the way I thought I'd spend mine," he laughed.

Time stretched on in total silence, save for the conversation we periodically made together. There was no sign of the nurse. It was hard to tell if the missionary was getting any worse, but he certainly wasn't getting any better. Once it hit around 10 or so, I suggested that we might want to sleep in shifts again tonight. Laughlin agreed, and took the first shift.

Around midnight, I was awakened by Laughlin, who silently shook me. Something or someone was moving in the outer office, although the lights were off. I moved behind the door, so that I would be concealed if it was opened. That way, if it turned out to be nothing, I could hide the gun before it was spotted. Laughlin murmured to himself and stood between the door and the comatose man.

The door opened suddenly, and I saw a shadowy shape in the dim doorway. I aimed at it but held my fire and stayed behind the door. For all I knew, it might be the nurse finally arriving, and I'd hate to shoot her by mistake.

Which was a good call, as it turned out. Laughlin abruptly flipped on the light, and the nurse stood in the doorway, blinking at the sudden light. "I heard you found him," she said. "I'm here to help."

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Last modified on January 26, 2016 by Kris Fazzari.