Chapter 1

Last year I got the job as project manager for a ‘Self-sufficient power supply’ and ‘Securing stable water supply’ in a foreign country in South America. So, I had come to Peru in a mountain valley in the Cordilleras. My contract, deposited with my agency in Belgium, ran for fifteen months, so only until the last day of July 2016. A multimillionaire called Rus or ‘The Rus’, probably from Russia, had a summer or holiday home built here on the site of an old silver mine. Speaking of the contract, they were complex constructs that the client created by contract. For example, I was registered as the owner of the huge valley and the surrounding mountains in the ‘Registro Publico’ similar to the land register. Rus had paid for the purchase and made the task as a project manager palatable to me with the fact that I would later receive $2,000 a month as a lease interest for life, as long as the facility would be used by him, which would be a good additional pension. If he no longer uses the object, it would be my property and I could rent or sell it at my discretion. However, I had to sign for him an additional agreement confirmed and sealed by notary public. In the event of my death, the property would revert to him as the financier, a mere precaution, I was assured.

In addition to the deed for the land acquisition, I had received a perfect, notarised secured lease agreement. In June 2016, the first payment for the lease was even received on my account in Belgium. Furthermore, I should receive a salary of 100,000 US dollars for the work, if the electricity and water supply would work smoothly. This was almost $7,000 a month tax-free, because the payment was to be made to my account in Belgium, where I had been exempted from income tax for years due to my long-term activities abroad. In addition, food and lodging were free for me plus a decent daily allowance, the most profitable job in my life so far.

There was no budget for my areas, I had a free hand in recruiting personnel, but limited to a maximum of eight men, and for the purchase of technology and equipment. Money, apparently, did not matter. No one controlled my work. The construction manager only said that as long as he got enough electricity and water, everything would be fine for him.

After immense initial difficulties, the work on my two projects progressed quickly. First, I secured the continuous power supply with the already existing solar system, improved the effectiveness of the system, and created sufficient opportunities to buffer the electricity produced. Between January and May, I had an additional small system installed at a cheaper location on a southern slope and a smaller wind power plant installed in addition to the original solar system. These could be switched on if necessary or if the system failed for the ‘circle’, as Rus called the closed-off area at the foot of mighty mountains. At the end of August, the emergency generator finally arrived, which we installed in a blockhouse previously used as a construction worker’s accommodation within the district. Fortunately, my workers had already laid the underground cable during the spring. Now there would have been a lot of stress, as everyone was frantically working on the completion of the huge garden. So, I could sit back comfortably and wait for the end of my paid time here, supposedly doing necessary checks and maintenance work.

The valley was a natural feast for the eyes. If you came around the curved bend from the canyon to the straight road towards the former ore processing, you saw a beautiful landscape. There were large areas of forest, some with tall trees, mostly araucaria, dense laurel forests, many rare bushes and other plants, especially a large variety of cacti. From the middle part of the driveway, you could admire the snow-covered peaks of the mountains, five and six thousand meters in the far distance to the northeast. The valley stretched for several kilometres in this direction, rising sharply. Mountains about 3000 meters high surrounded the basin, but they were still largely overgrown. Wild flowers bloomed on the slopes almost all year round. There was humming and chirping everywhere. The diversity of the bird life was impressive. What the birds lived on; I did not understand. There were not so many small animals and insects. In addition, there was another great advantage for us humans here in the valley: there were almost no mosquitoes.

Only the so-called circle, the ‘centre of power’, was laid out unfavourably. It seemed to me that the site was planned more for strategic reasons than for the sake of well-being. While we were able to enjoy the evening sun in the guesthouse, the circle was completely in the shade no later than 16:30 hours. Especially the terrace was often without any sunlight. The steep mountain slopes behind the circle also did not make a solid impression. Earthquakes or tremors of the bottom have repeatedly occurred here in recent years. In March of this year, there had once been quite a rumble, stones rolled off the slopes, the workers stood as if paralysed. In the event of a stronger earthquake, I would not be sure whether the possibly broken off chunks of stone could cause damage to the palazzo or not, although, the house was at least two hundred meters away from the foot of the mountains.

The last major earthquake had caused the silver mine in the valley to collapse and killed tens of people. The mine has since been shut down. You could still walk in a little, but the wooden supports creaked and groaned everywhere. I had done it once and lit it with a spotlight. Masses of rubble blocked access after less than twenty meters.

The valley was very remote. It was only possible to reach it via a slowly aging bridge over the river Tiso. The relatively small river had cut a deep canyon into the mountains over the centuries. Last February, after hours of heavy rain, I had experienced the Tiso rushing down the valley with a huge roar. Suddenly it was a raging torrent. The slope east of the bridge was submerged and a huge landslide briefly dammed the water masses. I watched eagerly as the river was dammed up almost fifteen meters high, in order to then push the boulders to the side with full force. Later I learned that the flash flood had caused powerful flooding near the port. As usual, it had hit the slums of the poor the worst. The tidal wave claimed a huge, never determined number of victims, especially among the Indios. Their primitive huts stood on a slope, but parts of the slope were simply torn away by the flood.

Since the closure of the silver mine more than ten years ago, the bridge has not received any maintenance. Still, she seemed solid, but the tooth of time gnawed at her, and since the earthquake she even swayed a little when a truck drove over it. Over the bridge you came to the port city of Ashmanton, which was at least three hundred kilometres away. In this dilapidated city there was an office that hired the workers for us, unloaded the ordered goods from the port and organized the transports over two mountains passes to the ‘Valley of the Mountain Lions’, as the locals called it. Again and again, there were encounters with the strong cougars here. The small herds of mountain dwellers were a welcome easy prey for the predators.

From the port of Ashmanton to our valley it took at least five hours and it was not an easy drive. The office in the port city also paid all the workers their wages. Although the qualification of the workers took some getting used to, they were hardworking and eager to learn. Project managers like me received a decent daily allowance of $50 per day, which was paid in cash at the office. When I was in Ashmanton once in two weeks, I had the $700 paid out to me. I always gave the completely underpaid women in the office a meal. They were very grateful for this. Most of the time, they didn’t even eat up the food, but took a portion for their family. The street vendors always brought quite large portions directly to the office, because they knew that I paid them properly. But life here in the remote area and the inhospitable small town was arduous for the people. Only a few were able to feed their families adequately.

For me there were always nice evenings with alcohol, one or two women, as was customary at a montage for well-paid employees, and very good fish food. I usually slept in a decent hotel in the small port town. So, I got along very well with the daily allowance, because I got everything free in the guesthouse.

And my projects were finished on time. Since May, the power supply has been working without any complaints. Sufficient drinking water has been provided in good quality for months. My squad should still take care of the miners’ settlement. It consisted of about twenty badly dilapidated wooden huts with a ‘restaurant’ in the middle similar to a saloon in the Wild West. Eleven widows of the miners who died in the last earthquake lived there in the village, as well as two fairly, old married couples and four not so old women, probably from a nearby mountain village. Close, of course, is relative here in the Andes. The nice local woman in the guesthouse had the interpreter explain to me that she had not seen her relatives for more than three years. It would be at least four days of walking almost continuously uphill. The two old men had also been working in the mine, but fortunately had been on a free shift on the day of the great misfortune. They always drove from the village to the district with their ox cart to deliver food or building materials. Several times I overtook the vehicle on foot, because the men always had an infinite amount of time.

The women were engaged in agriculture and cattle breeding and sold their surplus income to the kitchens of the guesthouse and the ‘circle’, the actual main house of the spacious camp. But there was no money, only a credit balance of each supplier recorded on a copybook. For this, the hardworking people then exchanged goods for their needs, such as salt, sugar, or work equipment and, if necessary, clothes. However, the villagers used most of their products for self-sufficiency. I felt sorry for the old ones. Since I had contracted my project workers until last July this year, I had them prepare the huts and lay electricity and water connections, starting in June. My order did not go that far, but there were enough materials and workers available for this. From the deliveries to the valley, there were almost an infinite number of large to oversized wooden boxes in the former ore processing plant, where containers arrived daily and were unpacked by selected forces and brought to the centre of power with two transporters. With these boards and beams we reinforced the houses in the village, sealed them with the huge amounts of tear-resistant film. “After all, it is a long-term increase in the value of my real estate.” I scoffed in thought.

The construction manager would have liked to use my now well-trained workers in the circle, but I refused, because I myself hardly got access there and did not get an insight into the work. I always thought of something that my workers still had to do urgently. Only once I was in the circle for almost a day to connect the transformer station and to measure the water quality and the maximum flow rate. Otherwise, I had no access to the ‘sanctuary of Rus’. An almost insurmountable steel fence had been erected, which was anchored on both sides at a steep break of the rock massif behind the circle. Also, the helicopter pilot was never allowed into the inner circle, especially since the planned landing site in the circle was not yet ready.

We had a very nice place for the overnight stay, a so-called guesthouse, located under some acacias and under mighty araucaria and other trees over thirty meters high. On the terrace you could soak up the sun, but also always find a place in the shade. The rooms were equipped as in a simple middle-class hotel. An old woman from the village cooked for us in a small, well-equipped kitchen. She was very nice but did not understand English and only some Spanish. Sometimes I brought her a few little things from my long weekends. Then she beamed at me and gave me her impressive smile.

The two highly motivated construction bosses, the construction manager and the architect, were always under pressure. The date of the handover on the last of July was getting closer and closer, but the helipad and the terrace roof on the main house had to be built as well as various gardens, fountains, and a pond as well as sports facilities had to be created in the ‘circle’. The area inside the fence was estimated at 30,000 square meters, of which the Palace of Rus occupied almost one thousand square meters.

The two old men from the village worked as gardeners in the inner circle if necessary but made little progress with the work on the huge area. Hundreds of hedge plants, bushes and fruit trees should still be planted. All free forces had to approach, finally also my workers. I did not participate, as I had previously been denied access in principle, so why now? Instead, I was sitting on my favourite spot, a self-made bench in a small clearing in the middle of one of the groves, invisible to everyone, but I was within earshot and could always be reached by pager.

The women of the village have been running a large cooking kitchen on the terrace of the guest house for months to provide for the up to thirty construction workers. A slightly younger woman, Luisa, was the cook for the boss and worked in the state-of-the-art kitchen in the newly built main building. The gentlemen such as the construction manager and the architect, the two security officers of the boss and the boss himself also dined there when they were present.

At the beginning of June, Rus visited the state of the works and was very dissatisfied, especially with the equipment and sanitary conditions. He also strongly criticized the outdoor facilities. He even had furniture, technology and other things flown in by helicopter. Two trucks were shuttling between the distant port city of Ashmanton and the valley. That was always about 280 kilometres a tour. Ton after ton of goods arrived where I never got the opportunity to sift through even parts of the content. The former ore processing plant was full of containers or large wooden boxes. Pallets full of boxes and cartons and was guarded day and night.

One afternoon in June, Rus introduced me to a young German doctor who, in addition to general medicine, would specialize in gynaecology. Although I did not understand the latter, for which this department was necessary, but it was certainly good to have a doctor in the valley. Besides, she was attractive, much younger than me, and maybe something for the bed, I thought at first. But it quickly became apparent; she was dismissive and cool towards me. I only saw her again shortly before my planned departure.

On his next visit, everything seemed to be largely in order for the boss, although the gentlemen were far from finished. However, the almost four-meter-high fence around the main camp was completely installed and safe for climbing over. The gate had an electronic switching mechanism and locked at the same time in eight places. Even a simple demolition would have had less success in trying to penetrate here. The footpaths in the circle were finished. Large areas were sown with lawns; the first trees and bushes were planted. For the completed pond, Rus had brought two tanks with young koi carps, which had been carefully exposed. As I heard, he was now largely satisfied with the giant reception room and his private chambers. Definitely everything at its best, I thought to myself.

The next day, shortly before his departure, he informed me that his guests were coming tomorrow. The doctor knows, it’s none of my business. Actually, I didn’t care about these either. My “OK,” almost didn’t reach him anymore. He was buzzing around obsessively with thousands of ideas in his head. What drove him on like that?

His two bodyguards had been travelling in a jeep. They picked me up from the guesthouse and now showed me an ignition device at the end of the valley above the Tiso, with which the almost thirty-meter-wide bridge was to be blown up. After the return of the bus, I was supposed to let three hours pass, and then blow up the bridge. I was outraged; it was the only way out of the valley. But everything was so decided by the great Master, his people explained to me.

“From the day after tomorrow there will only be helicopter traffic.” Rus told me in response to my excited request. There were another road, but only he knows it. I received a small radio with which I could contact him if urgent help was needed. Shortly after, he flew off.

31.07.2016

The last workers drove back to Ashmanton with the two waiting trucks, some construction machinery and tools. Actually, apart from me, only the doctor was present when the villagers were absent. The site manager and the architect had surely departed with Rus. The self-cantered multimillionaire had made it clear to me that I had to obey the Doctor absolutely, since he would have to take his head of security with him. Otherwise, I would not get the agreed $100,000 after the almost four weeks left for me here. After the arrival of the guests, I would have nothing to look for in the inner circle. All guests would be female and I, as the only man capable of procreation, have to stay away from the young women. Otherwise, his agent, the doctor, would liquidate me. Well, if he wanted it that way. There were only a few days left for me and I would sit here comfortably.

But I had done the calculation without the new boss, the doctor. She ordered me to the camp. We had twelve boxes to look for. It would be about national clothes for different countries. Vietnam, Brazil, Hungary, Nicaragua, Haiti, Kenya, China, Arabia - whichever country, and Italy. It was planned to hold a big reception on August 15, where the female guests were to perform in the respective national costumes of their countries.

I also had to find two large boxes and make it to the house, where I only found out the transport numbers. I transported the stuff by forklift to the stairs to the reception. There I had to divide it into boxes and put it in the foyer.

Then medical equipment was missing. I had to look for and assemble them, special lounges, a gyn chair, a bed with side rails and retaining straps for fixing. After all, considerable quantities of clothes and toys for small children were delivered. These came to the many others piled up under the stairs in the house. I suspected that the young women announced to me were pregnant and were supposed to give birth to their children here under the guidance of the doctor. If Rus wanted it so...

I was far from finished when the sun set. ‘Ms. Doctor’ kept threatening that my salary would be cut if everything were not perfectly fine tomorrow. Actually, that was none of my business. My responsibility was in the electricity and water supply, and that worked without any complains. In addition, my contract had expired on the last of July only the payment was missing. The one month more I had promised Rus, as he referred to my future income from the lease for the valley. Reluctantly, I went to the work imposed on me by the dominant woman. Unfortunately, the forklift driver had already been sent away, so I was forced to make an effort myself.

01.08.2016

Early in the morning I was awakened by the beeper, which she had handed me yesterday. Everyone had one, even the cook and the gardeners. I had to compete. “The guests have just left. How long does it take to get here,” she asked me? It was almost 300 kilometres, all mountain and valley and serpentines. “What are you coming with?” She guessed with a small bus. “So, about five hours, maybe a little more.”

We rummaged through the storage room in the ore processing plant. Fifteen pallets I had to drive to the main house, then the diesel was gone. No one had thought of that. We had a diesel tank, but it was intended exclusively for emergency power. I had to sign this, and I didn’t let the current boss soften me either. So, I loaded boxes into the jeep and drove them to the stairs. My female Doctor, I hated her for her tone and commands, opened the huge boxes with the crowbar and constantly packed a lot of boxes on the stairs. Surely, I should carry them to the different rooms later, but at least she joined in.

In short, we were both exhausted and worn out, although I had brought the two old men to my support, which packed the smaller boxes taken from the big wooden boxes into the jeep. During a cigarette break I watched the men. Miguel still seemed quite fitful but showed no interest in working quickly. Old Alonso, on the other hand, made an effort, but you could see with every lifting of the boxes how hard this physical work was for him.

In the Palazzo, the doctor did not answer any of my questions. So, I demonstratively sat down at a table in the anteroom for my due break. Ms. Doctor sat down with me, and the cook, a younger lady called Luisa, brought us chilled water. After a few minutes we wanted to continue, as it honked in the distance and a bus for maybe forty people approached leisurely. They could never have driven so fast from Ashmanton to us. Then where did they come from?

How amazed I was when only younger girls got out, all dressed in blue work suits in the former Chinese style. Everyone had a backpack with them. Soon they were standing in front of the gate, tense and uncertain. Evidently, they did not understand English, for it was only at the gestures of the dynamic Ms. Doctor that they tripped to the house. I estimated them to be eleven to twelve years old, but honestly, I had no idea about children. What was the matter with the gyn chair, it suddenly hit me? As I was about to go to the house to carry the boxes inside, the doctor stood in my way. “It’s over with fun. The inner circle is taboo for you from now on.” I smiled and wanted to continue, but she was serious. Finally, she took two steps back and pulled out a revolver. Uff. What was I just getting into here?

The gate crashed into the lock and I knew that it could only be opened with a code that surely Ms. Doctor alone knew. Thoughtfully, I strolled to my terrace. A beer would be good now, but I didn’t have one here because the kitchen was locked. The bus driver looked at me in disbelief. I was left with only “Women!” to groan, and then he drove away. I was in very bad mood, almost crying. What was all this about? I was the last ass and could only hope that I would leave here soon and my agreed salary would be paid immediately.

Then my beeper sounded. I went towards the gate. “You still have an important task,” she reminded me and pointed towards the bridge. If I blew them up, the only way I could go out of here was by helicopter. So far, I was able to drive by jeep to the small port city, although the diesel certainly did not reach Ashmanton. I was thinking when I stopped at the ignition point. What am I doing? Ignite and be at the mercy or flee and get no pay for all the work? Finally, my greed for money won out, because I could no longer be seen anywhere in Europe without money because of my debts. But at least I wanted to photograph how the bridge flew into the air. In principle, my mobile phone was useless here because of the lack of a network, but at least it was suitable for taking pictures. It was freshly charged and would allow me some snapshots of how the only road connection disappeared into thin air. So, I pulled the ignition cable out of the hiding place went up a narrow path a little bit and wanted to sit on a ledge. The wire did not reach quite so far. I lit up and hurriedly walked the steps to the small plateau because of the planned photos. I already saw the explosion. It swelled immensely. The whole rock I was standing on was shaking. Completely frightened, I noticed that a short time later the road under the jeep was blown away. I was trembling with fear. If I had blown it up from there as intended, I would now be dead and buried deep down in the valley. I didn’t take any pictures; I had to fight for my life, clinging to a thin tree. Finally, my feet found support. The dust cloud slowly disappeared. Carefully I climbed up the rock a little. Somehow, everything around me was still swaying. When it seemed safe and stable to me, I sat down. What was that? I was sure my death had been planned, maybe just to save my pay. But the worst thing was, I didn’t have any chance to get out of here anymore. Rus would have me shot if he found out that I was alive. The only option would be to hijack the helicopter with the pilot, but would I get a chance to do so? I had an advantage, everyone thought I was dead. But whether this helped me was unlikely.

02.08.2016

The next day I was still struggling over the rocks. I just couldn’t get down to the street. Thirst tormented me; my arms and knees were bruised and partly bloody. The sun was already burning on the slope from an early morning. Finally, I was almost at the main water source. That’s when I knew my way around. From here, pipelines went to the warehouse, on which I could bring myself down, dangling and balancing. In some places I had also had steps cut into the rock. While refreshing with the cool water, I thought, ’How should this go on for me?’ For a while I was able to hide in the forest and ask the villagers for food, but that was not a long-term solution. Where did I get a gun?

Suddenly I heard helicopter noises in the distance. He was early today, the ‘Great Master’. He was now my mortal enemy that was clear to me. The helicopter came closer and closer; I ducked between bushes, to be invisible from the air. However, then something unimaginable happened. The pilot pulled too close over the crest, maybe only 200 meters away from me. The rotor hit a tree and shattered. The helicopter flew a few meters further, then plummeted down like a stone. It shattered after about twenty meters of free fall. Most of the parts rushed about a hundred meters down into the valley, but I could not see from my place, only hear. It was tragic and, on the other hand, happy for me. Actually, I was saved first, my mortal enemy was certainly dead himself. But every way back from the valley was cut off. ’Hopefully search teams will come to find the crashed helicopter.’ Those were my first thoughts. The fate of the crashed people did not interest me, just escaping death itself was enough. Anyway, I got involved in a shitty thing; I clenched my fists in anger.

Carefully I climbed deeper into the valley. A few bushes and trees were burning on the slope. The sun shone directly on the slope and had certainly blinded the pilot. From quite a distance I watched the old men and women on their way to the crash site. At the fence of the inner circle stood the children and Ms. Doctor, certainly stunned by the misfortune.

For the time being, I was determined to not let myself be seen. Although I was very hungry, I sat down in a clearing among the wild-growing trees and tried to take a nap. It was getting warmer at last. A pleasant breeze blew to it. Several times I twitched up in my sleep, listened to the surroundings. Everything was quiet. When I woke up, it was late in the day. I kept sneaking down. In the dark I went to the guesthouse, listened from the terrace into the night. There was complete silence in the inner circle. On the mountainside, wailing sounds of the old women were to hear. A few sweets found in the house satisfied my hunger. The kitchen, and with it the supplies, were locked. I could still break open or enter the door tomorrow, but first I want to see how everything would develop.

Something had to happen. I should hold the doctor accountable. She was certainly privy to the fact that the blow-up was to prove fatal to me. Otherwise, she would have paged me.

How should I proceed now? I will deprive the inner circle of food, I decided, and no longer let anyone pass through the gate. Furthermore, I had to eliminate or disarm the armed woman. From my point of view, there was only one person in the valley who should have the power, and that was I. Rus and his faithful wanted to kill me, now the situation had reversed. Without a helicopter and a bridge, the situation was very complicated, but at least not hopeless. “Come on, Michael, get to work!” I said to myself. In the ore processing, I had seen an army container in camouflage paint. Maybe I could find weapons there.

03.08.2016

The next day, early in the morning, it was still dark; I broke open the bolt of the military container. Instead of weapons, I found a lot of tools, barbed wire, chains and locks, plus whole boxes with nails, screws, and bolts. Maybe that was even better than weapons; I didn’t get into the ‘circle’, at the moment, anyway. It was immediately clear to me what to do; I locked the only gate to the inner circle with barbed wire and with two chains each, secured with locks. Due to the barbed wire barriers, no one got within five meters of the gate.

From the terrace of the Casa, I watched the events with a hungry stomach, but with a few bottles of cool mineral water and now and then a cigarette. True, my thoughts were on completely different things. Somehow, I had to ensure my survival. Unfortunately, no search plane or helicopter had yet appeared. After almost an hour, the cook came along the path with her two baskets, as she does every day, stopped, and stared. I must have done a good job. Children screamed excitedly, ran around the premises until Ms. Doctor stepped on the stairs in front of the house.