Sam put his arm about his beloved wife and escorted her to the head of the trail that led down the mountain.

She buried her face in his shoulder.

“You just can’t do this. I may never see you again.”

His kiss was as gentle as a soft whisper. “I’ve made luncheon reservations at our favorite restaurant here in town.”

After walking twenty feet through the fortress, Remi stopped to get a final look at her husband. But Sam was not to be seen. It was as if he had vanished.

SANTA MARIA DE LOS MONTAÑAS

At dawn, Sam walked across the road to the church and climbed the ladder to the top of the bell tower. His timing was on the money.

He removed a pair of German Steiner 20×80 military binoculars and peered through the lenses at a dust cloud on the road about five miles away.

Almost casually, he sat on a niche in the wall and watched the sunrise. Later, he stared at the approaching military convoy.

Sam was not primed to fight. His job was to observe. He took a small old-fashioned handheld radio he’d borrowed from Dr. Huerta, adjusted the frequency, and pressed the call button.

“Viper One. This is Cobra One. Over.”

A voice, clear and sharp, came back almost immediately.

“Cobra One. This is Viper One. I haven’t heard your voice in a long time. Over.”

“Six years and seven months, to be exact.”

“We’ve all missed you, Cobra One.”

“Is that Viper Two?”

“Two hundred meters on your left in an open space in the forest.”

“You have been away a long time,” laughed Viper Two. “I remember you as the new kid on the block in the old days.”

“You must know,” said Viper One, “the firm is stepping on important toes to fit this little tea party in the schedule.”

“I’m well aware of it,” replied Sam. “And, I might add, I’m the only one on this side who knows the score.”

“Okay,” said Viper One, “why don’t you tell us the score. Over.”

“Roger,” said Sam. “A small army of men who work for a local drug lord are planning to come here to take possession of the town and ship the people to a plantation about twenty miles away and put them to work.”

“That sounds like slavery.”

“It is slavery,” said Sam. “And extortion and theft and kidnapping and murder. Once they have these people in their marijuana fields, nobody will ever see or hear from them again. Over.”

“Nice to know we’re the good guys,” Viper Two cut in. “Hold on. I read a convoy of seven vehicles approaching up the road.”

Sam added what he could see from his perch in the bell tower.