No one was going anywhere.

They tried another volley of automatic weapon fire—ammunition must not have been a problem. Bullets spat all around us.

And then we heard different guns go off—guns that had a familiar ring. There were about six shots. We heard two men cry out in pain. It was followed my some moaning. And then a voice called out—a voice we knew—"Senhor Honeycutt, it is okay now."

Paulo!

Sabrina and I stiffly stood up and climbed out of the ditch. I saw Emil and the two locals emerge from their hiding spots. Finally, Mario rose from the ditch—the same ditch we were in, only thirty feet further down.

Sabrina saw the blood on my arm and let out a little gasp.

"You've been hit!"

"No, it's okay. Just a flesh wound." That always sounded brave when they said it in the movies. I thought I did it well.

Paulo emerged from the woods, a big smile on his face.

Sabrina went up to him and gave him a big hug. "You saved our lives."

Paulo turned five shades of red, but loved every second of the hug.

"I think two are dead," he said to me when he had recovered. "One is alive. He will not die."

"That was dangerous for you," I said. "Thank you."

"We heard shots from the boat. Much shooting. We knew it was trouble for you." He held up his rifle with a smile. "See? It comes in handy again."

We followed him into the woods, where Luis was standing over the one I had been speaking with, judging by his location. He was hurt—probably by Sabrina's bullet—and was sitting against a rock. Blood was running down his arm from a shoulder wound, but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

I was about to ask him a question when I heard the familiar sound of flesh on flesh behind me, and then a grunt. I turned to find Mario lying on the ground, his face bloody and his glasses broken. Standing over him was Sabrina.

"You deserve a lot worse than that," she spoke calmly. Never cross Sabrina.

"I wasn't really going to hurt any of you. I just wanted my share of the gold."

"Your share?" I asked. "What makes you think you have a share in this?"

"My great-grandfather was involved in this, just like yours. I deserve as much as you."

"Which is exactly zero," I replied. "I told you before that we're not keeping any of it. Just because your great-grandfather stole it doesn't mean you have any claim to it. He stole it. It wasn't his in the first place."

"Yes, but the people he stole it from had stolen it themselves."

"Shut-up, Mario. You have no say an any of this."

He stayed on the ground nursing his face. Sabrina was rubbing her knuckles, but had a look of satisfaction in her eyes.

I turned toward the wounded assailant.

"Now you're going to do some talking."