Chapter Six

Sunglasses and Screwdrivers

Sam's gaze shot from face to face, from rifle to rifle. Mad scenarios played inside his head, from Mexican drug lords to movie sets, but deep down inside he knew what this meant. His past had finally caught up with him. There was no other explanation for it. Flashback from running through the mall and dodging bullets filled his vision.

"Well, well, well." A mocking voice broke through the silence and the armed men shifted.

A tall, well-built man reached the front of the group. He wore an impeccable black suit, scarlet shirt and tie and a top hat. His hair was jet black, his eyes dark blue behind his glasses and he had a goatee.

He grinned at Sam as though expecting recognition. Sam racked his brain, but, even if there was something slightly familiar about the man, he couldn't remember seeing him before. But that didn't mean that he couldn't guess who he was. He'd never imagined Snitch Gravel looking like this. He'd always thought him to be a mean, skinny, tall, hunched old man, rubbing his claw-like hands.

The man's sneer disappeared. "You have no idea who I am."

Sam shook his head, though he wasn't sure if that meant 'no, I have no idea who you are' or 'no, I know exactly who you are'. Christine whimpered behind him and Sam squeezed her hand, trying to calm her down.

"Help!" she called out.

As if they had one mind, the armed men pointed their rifles at her. Snitch Gravel raised his hand and they lowered their guns.

Footsteps and crashes came from Sam's room and it took seconds for Kyle and Jerry to barge in the hallway, the door to their room blocking the group of armed men from view for a few seconds. They both skidded to a halt. The door slammed behind them and they stared from Sam and Christine to the army. The doors of the other two rooms opened as the rest of the group came out.

Tina and Alice shrieked, while Professor Palmer hurried to pull Christine out of harm's way. Professor Harris however made his way to Sam, but stopped abruptly once he caught sight of the army's leader.

The man watched Harris through narrowed eyes. "You didn't tell them anything."

"I didn't think you'd get here so fast," Harris said stiffly.

Sam stared from one man to the other. What the hell? Harris and Snitch Gravel knew each other and were on speaking terms? Suddenly, grave robbing wasn't the biggest problem with this quest. What if Harris had actually recruited them to deliver them to Snitch Gravel?

Snitch Gravel shook his head. "You underestimate me, James. And these three." He nodded towards Sam, Jerry and Kyle. "They have no idea what they've really gotten themselves into, do they? You haven't told them about the agency or about me."

Sam turned to Harris. What agency? What was going on?

"I didn't see the point to—"

"Scare them?" The man raised one eyebrow. "But surely, they should be scared. They must know me by name and reputation, at least. I did, after all, try to kill them at some point."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. He wished he could stare at the man as innocently as Kyle was, but he'd just confirmed his greatest fear.

"Snitch Gravel?" Jerry asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

The man sneered. "See? They do know who I am."

"Who...? What...?" Kyle stared from Sam to Snitch Gravel.

"Oh. Right." Snitch Gravel squinted at Kyle. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second then a scowl replaced the shock. "You've never heard of me." He raised his hand and his men pointed their rifles. "To cut a long story short, I hate your father enough to kill you."

"Oh, for crying out loud." Harris threw his hands in the air. "That was twenty years ago!"

Sam turned to him unable to tell how much more shock he could take. How many people knew about their father's enemy and how come this precise man was one of them?

Snitch Gravel narrowed his eyes. "Twenty years, five months and twenty three days, to be more precise." He then glanced at Sam and grinned. "Oh, this is so good. Do they even know your real name, Harrison James?"

"Wait, what?" Jerry asked.

"Thought so. Dear brats, please meet Harrison James, secret agent, long time frenemy and professional liar."

Sam's heart beat like a trapped bird trying to escape. What had they gotten themselves into? And Kyle squeezing his shoulder wasn't helping. Sam winced and stepped back.

"Distract him," Kyle whispered in his ear and nudged him forward.

Sam stumbled and grabbed on to Jerry. Kyle was right. As much as he wanted to strangle the fake professor Harris right now, he wasn't the one pointing a gun at them. They had to get away from Snitch Gravel if they wanted to live long enough to find out what was really going on.

"Relax," he said loudly, regaining his footing. "He's not going to kill us."

Snitch Gravel raised his eyebrows. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're a grown man with an army of other grown men sporting rifles," Sam said as though explaining a basic mathematical fact. He wasn't sure it would work, but he had no idea what else to do. "We're three children, none of us legally allowed to drink. You can't just shoot us."

A mocking smile spread across Snitch Gravel's lips. "I beg to differ. I'm not above shooting defenseless children."

Sam swallowed. So much for that idea. Those pointed guns made his stomach feel as if he'd hit himself with that blasted door again. Which actually gave him an idea.

"Kyle, go!" he yelled, and before any of the armed men could make a move, the grabbed the handle of the door leading to their room and pulled it open blocking their view of the rest of the hallway.

"They're getting away!" yelled one of Snitch Gravel's men.

Sam heard footsteps, breaking glass, panting, as he ran backwards. Jerry got to his knees and scuttled inside their room. Sam reached the door to the next room and pulled it open just as a bullet splintered the flimsy protection they had. With the third door pulled open, they actually had a bit of a shield.

"Come on!" Harris yelled.

"Boss, they're getting away," a man grunted.

Sam pivoted in mid-run and watched Harris' back as he jumped out a small window at the end of the hallway, leaving it empty. Sam sped up and threw himself through the window just as a bullet soared past him and hit the wall. He landed on a wooden platform and rolled towards its end. He tried to grab the edge, but his fingers closed around air. Sam shut his eyes, bracing himself for impact with the ground. It never came. Someone caught him.

Kyle put him down, his eyes fixed on the window. Long scratches marred his forearms and Sam guessed he must've jumped through the closed window.

"Go!" Kyle nudged him forward.

Sam shook his head, out of breath. "But Jerry..."

"I'm here." Jerry rushed out the door of the inn, dragging three rucksacks after him.

"I'll get the rest of the luggage. Now run!" Kyle hurried around the building.

Sam pushed Jerry forward. Snitch Gravel's men came out the window, onto the platform, pointing their rifles. Sam dashed towards the jungle, not looking back. Bullets zoomed past him and splintered the trees. In front, Jerry tripped and fell off his feet. Sam picked him up and the two started running again, following Harris's retreating figure.

Sam's pulse thundered in his ears. He gazed over his shoulder. Kyle was thankfully right behind them. Sam sighed with relief and concentrated on not tripping over the undergrowth. Except for the falling rain and the crunching of the dead leaves beneath their feet, everything was quiet. The occasional thunder roared from above, but there were no more gunshots.

They ran for what seemed like hours. Sam stayed last in line, glancing over his shoulder ever so often, making sure they weren't followed. He didn't notice Jerry stopping and rammed into him.

"We can't stop now!" Jerry grabbed on to a vine and pulled himself to his feet.

"We will move on, señor," said a foreign voice with a strong Spanish accent. "We have to cut the plants first."

Sam sat up. The whole group had stopped. There were two strangers with them. And a mule. The one speaking was short and plump and had black hair and moustache. The other was equally short, but thin and trembling.

The plump man took out machetes, handed one to his companion and left two others for show. Harris and Kyle grabbed them and the four started chopping the vines. The group started moving again.

Sam walked on, staring at his feet, wishing he could help in some way. He felt completely useless. And there were so many questions spinning inside his head. What was Snitch Gravel doing here? And who was this Harrison James? As much as he wanted to stop and shake questions out of him, he knew they couldn't. They had to get as far away as possible from Snitch Gravel first.

The sun rose over the canopy of vegetation, making the light greenish. The rain finally stopped, but it was replaced by unbearable humidity. The closed space felt like a sauna.

Hours later, Sam wiped his brow and checked his watch. It was two in the afternoon and he was starving. The mosquitoes had all but completely devoured him. "We should take a break." He had a painful stitch in his side and didn't know how much longer he'd be able to walk.

They hadn't heard any unusual sound ever since entering the jungle and Sam hoped Snitch Gravel wasn't following them.

Harrison James hacked at a vine, sending splinters in all directions. "I guess we should." His voice sounded strained as though he'd done everything in his power to avoid the conversation he knew would follow.

"This is as good a place as any." Kyle stuck his machete in a nearby tree.

"We should start a fire. Kids, would you...mind..." Harrison looked from Sam, who had crossed his arms over his chest to Jerry and Kyle who mirrored his position.

"Our guides can take care of the fire." Sam sat on the roots of a nearby tree.

The professor and the girls sat in a circle while the two guides busied to start a fire. Kyle and Jerry remained standing. Harrison sat cross-legged, his nose crinkled, and looked at his lap.

"Well?" Jerry put his hands on his hips.

Harrison searched his pockets with calculated moves. He took out a pack of smokes, and pulled one out delicately. After shoving it in his mouth, he searched his pockets again in the same calm, slow manner.

Sam's hands trembled. Harrison moved so slow, he almost went backwards. Next to Sam, Kyle's hand tightened around the hilt of the machete.

Harrison lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. "Okay, I guess the cat's out of the bag now. What do you want to know?"

"What?" Jerry stomped his foot. "Snitch Gravel! The agency! What's that all about?"

"No, scratch that," Sam said. "Who the hell are you?"

Harrison sighed. "As you've heard from Snitch Gravel, my real name is Harrison James. About the agency, there's nothing to be too worried about."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Nothing to be—"

Kyle yanked the machete out of the tree and pointed it an inch from Harrison's nose. "I don't know who the hell you really are and what you're playing at—"

Harrison scrambled back. Tina wrapped her arms around Kyle's waist and Sam grabbed his shoulders, and the two of them pulled him back. The real professor rushed over and pried Tina away from Kyle as though he were about to chop her up.

"Calm down." Kyle shrugged Sam off. "I wasn't going to hurt him."

"Not bad," Harrison said, though his voice trembled. "Great agent material. I understand your frustration—"

"Then speak already!" Jerry yelled, his fists clenched.

Harrison took another drag. "You're now working for an agency. By accepting this mission, you've agreed to join." He searched his pockets, pulled out a card and handed it to Sam.

Sam turned it over. He should be reading it instead of freaking out that Harrison carried business cards into the jungle. "C.I.I?" And the man's name was Herrison James. With an 'e'.

"Yes, Counter Intelligence International. We're an intergovernmental agency with specific projects of major importance. We believe there is a ruby hidden in these newly discovered temples which has unexplored energetic potential. We've done our homework. Our scientists believe we can use it to dim the power crisis. This assignment is your admittance test. Pass it, and you will be briefed further."

Sam raised an eyebrow. Herrison sounded too much like a prerecorded message. "No one asked us if we wanted anywhere near this thing. As far as we know, we've signed up for a study camp. You do realize you've actually kidnapped us."

Herrison laughed shortly. "You're here. That's all the consent we need. This will be no different than the study camp we planned. Would you have been happier not knowing with me pretending to be a higher academic? But you shouldn't be bothered with this right now."

"Yes, you're completely right," Jerry gave a shaky laugh before scowling at Herrison. "It's Snitch Gravel we should be more worried about."

"Yeah, what's with that guy?" Kyle asked.

"Well..." Herrison wet his lips. "You heard him. He has a grudge against your parents, and, unfortunately, against the agency, too. Our projects could turn deadly if in the wrong hands. Imagine what one could do with a powerful energy source. They could power anything. Snitch Gravel counts as wrong hands. I guessed he'd be here because of me. And I honestly hoped he'd stopped hating your parents by now."

Sam, Kyle and Jerry stared at each other. Jerry was right. The lie about the study camp, Herrison, the agency – these things didn't matter that much. Not when they had a vengeful madman on their tails.

"You should've told us the truth," Sam said. His mind buzzed, trying to come up with a calming solution to their predicament. What shocked him was that he didn't want to go home and didn't even want to kill Herrison for lying. What he actually wanted to do was what he came here for. Find those temples and raid the treasures within. Maybe they'd manage to dodge Snitch Gravel and still complete their mission which now sounded much more important than history.

"Would you have said yes if you knew?" Herrison asked in a tone that implied he was sure they'd say 'no'.

"Yes!" Kyle and Sam said at the same time Jerry said 'No'.

Herrison shrugged. "There's nothing you can do about it now. Let's complete our quest and hope for the best." He stood and walked over to the guides.

Sam turned to Jerry and Kyle but they both looked away, each of them lost in his own thoughts. Professor Palmer stood too, a defeated expression on his face and at that moment Sam realized that he knew what was going on. Maybe he was a usual contributor of the agency's. Sam wondered how much Christine knew. Apparently, he and his brothers were the ones left in the dark. And Alice who was mumbling furiously about calculating taxes.

Sam didn't feel the taste of food and time lost its meaning once they started walking again. Something nagged him, but he couldn't tell what. He didn't think Herrison had lied and he was glad that he, Kyle and Jerry were in this together, but it felt like something was missing. A vital piece of information which threatened to make all the difference - something he had to ask Herrison. But the question wouldn't come.

"Hey, are you alright?" Christine's soft voice broke through his thoughts.

Sam jumped and looked around. He hadn't even noticed they'd stopped. Carlos, the plump man, and his assistant were lighting a fire while everyone else was cutting plants, trying to make room for the tents. Barely any light made its way through the thick vegetation.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit confused." Sam turned his attention to Christine. "How are you holding out?"

"Better, now I've changed my shoes." She looked at her trainers. "Rough place, the jungle."

No kidding. What was the professor thinking, dragging his daughters into this? "Yeah, it is." Great, he was back to being mister-conversation-skills-zero. She liked being around him, she'd said so. Why couldn't he act normal around her? "How much did you know about this?"

"Not much more than you. Just that Dad was going on an expedition to find some temples."

"You didn't think it was a study camp."

She shook her head. "That's why I didn't suspect anything when you told me."

Sam sighed, once again wondering what the professor was thinking.

Christine wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. His heart immediately went into hyper drive. He didn't think he could get any hotter. His arms enclosed her as though they had a will of their own. God, how could this feel so good?

"Sam!"

Sam and Christine jumped apart and faced Tina and Jerry. Both of them had their hands on their hips and identical disapproving expressions.

"This is not the time..."

"...or place to think or..."

"...act on crushes. They might get..."

"...lack of attention, and we've got so much..."

"...deal with, and if you don't stop this right now..."

"...I'm telling dad..."

"... telling dad. So knock it off..."

"... irresponsible brats."

Sam stared from one to the other. It was hard to pick up on anything seeing as they talked at the same time. But he got the general idea. He pursed his lips, trying hard not to laugh. Jerry and Tina acted like mom and dad.

Next to him, Christine hung her head and nodded vigorously to everything they said. Jerry and Tina both drew a deep breath, wheeled around and stalked off.

"Those two are so right for each other." Christine giggled. "They both get a kick out of bossing other people around."

"You can say that again. Though they did give me a headache. Remind me to lay low around them." Sam couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face. Though he didn't think they were interested in each other, he would love to see Jerry losing his head over a girl.

Okay, this chapter is a bit funky, so any improvement suggestions are more than welcome.

What do you think about Herrison? The agency? Snitch Gravel? Do you think Sam should bolt? He probably should, but he doesn't really have where to go and there would be no story.

So... moving on!

Don't forget to vote and comment. I need writing juice!