Chapter 15: Mission Bound

February 1999

Our car meandered throughout the lush green Colombian countryside for several hours, taking us right straight through rebel-contested territory. Plaguing the traffic of the area were roadblocks, checkpoints and unannounced searches of cars by rebels and government forces alike. Surprisingly, there were few cars on the roads this day. Perhaps it was the intent of the searches to keep people at home and off the roads. The roads of Colombia are not like the roads of America. They do not always go in a straight line and they are not always as smooth to travel on as we are used to here in the states.

For a long while, no one really spoke much. We traveled the first few hours in relative silence. Rosalva was wearing jeans, a long sleeve white button shirt, with a red baseball cap. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail, pulled through the back of the cap. She wore hiking boots, a startling contrast to what most other girls from here were wearing. She had not gotten very much sleep the night before, so she rested with her head against the sidewall of the car, sleeping through all the bumps and potholes. I stared at her while she slept. I thought the hiking boots were unusual for the area. I just had not seen too many women in Colombia wearing such outdoor gear.

Lou was wearing a khaki, short-sleeve shirt with jeans also. He wore no hat, so his black hair shined in the sunlight. With sneakers on his feet, he kept them on the pedals, eager to get through this territory as fast as possible. He knew what the risks were and had agreed to take them on. Driving slowly was another risk he was not willing to take. Chain-smoking all the way there, he drove with his AKM across his lap, and the 9mm on the console.

I wore olive drab cargo pants, a black tank top, with an olive drab shirt over it, unbuttoned. The pants reminded me of the BDU pants soldiers wear. I liked having the pocket space. I also wore a photographer vest, the kind that had many pockets for film, and whatever else. I had high top sneakers and a boonie hat on my head. If I was going to go to the woods, at least I was going to dress the part. This was a close as I could get on this day.

The countryside was hilly, punctuated with green valleys, dotted with small farmhouses and barns. The site of abandoned or destroyed vehicles left along the side of the road frequently interrupted the view of lush forests and fields of crops. Lou slowed down just enough that I could make out bullet holes in several of them. That made me nervous. I had prayed at the beginning of this trip, that God would place a hedge of protection around all of us. Nonetheless, I was still nervous. To be complacent is to invite trouble.

After a while, Rosalva awoke from her peaceful nap. “Have a nice nap?” I asked.

“Well, if you don’t count the fact that your partner has hit every rock and hole in the road since we left Bogotá, and the fact that you’ve been staring at me a lot while I have been asleep, yes, I slept very well.”

She was abrupt to say the least.

Lou snickered to himself. “She is no fool, my friend. She is a woman. Moreover, a woman can always tell when a man is looking at her. They have a sense for these things.”

“Rosalva, I never meant to give you the impression that I was staring for any reason other than just wondering what you might know about regarding what we’re after. Besides, I am a very happily married man, with two children. Very happily married,” I emphasized.

She shifted her position in the rear seat of the car. “I’m sorry, but I’m very tired. I did not sleep very well last night, and I have not been able to sleep too well in the car either. Please accept my apologies for my insolence, sirs. It is important that you both know I am not as naive as you might think. I know all too well the risks that we are taking, but I do not think that you do. You need me as much as I need you. I agreed to take you here because I needed the escort. I miss my home and my family,” she said, her English as perfect as possible with the customary accent accompanying it.

“Rosalva, what are you the most afraid of?” I asked.

“I don’t like to talk about what I’m most afraid of.” She turned to look out the window, obviously not wanting to talk anymore. Then, she spoke up once more. “Besides, you already know the answer to that question, Senor Harris.”

“But you’re here, on your way back home, to the hacienda, and the altar is a short distance from your home. Is that not correct?” I was probing.

“I told you why I was coming with you! You needed a guide, and I needed an escort. Our destinations are almost within ten kilometers of each other. Besides, I have asked ... no ... begged God to help you find out the mystery of the altar. It is my only nightmare. I have carried it with me since I was a little girl. I have always had bad dreams about that experience. Of me ... searching for two little children that disappeared, and no one ever found. Of me ... standing at the altar, looking down at my feet, watching the blood spilling over the tops of my shoes. It was horrible! I have never been able to get that sight out of my memory. The bad dreams come in phases, like seasons. It took me a while to realize, that I dream the nightmare every full moon. It is strange, but the dreams come like tides. We can predict the tides. I can predict the dreams. Bad dreams. I hate them. I tell you, there was a time when it was much better here. There was not the drug trade plaguing us as it does now. The rebels were not as severe a problem then as now. In addition, I did not know of any cult that dealt in blood and death. My country is famous for the many ways the innocent must die. We used to be famous for coffee. We grew the best in the world. Now we grow coca plants and export misery and death in return for ill-gotten wealth. Only a few reap any benefits from that wealth. I wish to see fields of crops, with people working them, happy, content and unafraid. I do not think that will happen soon. That is why I am going to the university. An education will be my only weapon against this kind of life of fear! With that, I will leave this place and go either to Europe, or to America.” With that last sentence, she turned to stare back out the window. Lou kept driving.