Empire of Gold

13


‘You know this guy?’ Nina asked, shocked. ‘Unfortunately, yeah,’ said Eddie. ‘He’s a complete f*cking bell-end called Stikes.’

‘Alexander Stikes,’ said the man in question, introducing himself to Nina with mock civility. ‘Formerly of the SAS. I had the dubious privilege of commanding Corporal Chase here.’

Eddie gave him a cutting half-smile. ‘Until I got him kicked out.’

Stikes sneered. ‘Don’t award yourself credit where it’s not due. My transfer back to my old regiment had nothing to do with that pathetic inquiry McCrimmon organised.’

‘Still stopped you getting promoted, didn’t it? Nothing like murdering civilians to f*ck up your career prospects.’

‘I don’t know, striking a superior officer did for yours. Admittedly, a simple demotion wasn’t nearly punishment enough, but again, your being McCrimmon’s trained poodle helped you.’ He slowly circled Eddie. ‘You’ve put on weight, Chase. Two marriages have made you lazy. So how is your ex?’

‘Dead as you’ll be when I’m done with you. Been stalking me on Facebook, have you?’

‘Just keeping tabs on an adversary. But I must admit, it was quite a surprise to hear that coarse northern drawl again when they replayed the SOS at the base. Still, you never could keep your mouth shut.’

The Venezuelan general waved an impatient hand. ‘Enough. You know this man, yes, but we need to know who the others are, how much they know about the lost city – and who they have told.’

Stikes ran his hand down the side of Nina’s face. She flinched away, Eddie giving him a deadly look. ‘Well, since I know Chase, I also know who she is. We have a celebrity in our midst, Salbatore – this is Nina Wilde.’

The general’s eyebrows twitched as he recognised the name. ‘The one who found Atlantis?’

‘The very same. And it appears she’s not resting on her laurels. Unfortunately for her, you found this place first.’ He stepped back. ‘Search them.’

Three soldiers moved along the line, roughly relieving the prisoners of their possessions and tossing them to the ground. Stikes began to examine the passports and wallets.

‘You’ve got me at a disadvantage,’ Nina said to the general, trying to maintain a façade of calmness. ‘You know my name, so who are you?’

‘I know who he is,’ said Valero quietly. There was a note almost of betrayal in his voice. ‘General Callas.’ He looked the officer in the eye. ‘You are supposed to be President Suarez’s closest ally – his closest friend! Why have you not told him about this place?’

Callas’s lips tightened at the mention of Suarez, but he didn’t answer, instead turning back to Nina. ‘I am General Salbatore Delgado Callas,’ he announced. ‘I would offer you my hand, but I do not think you will take it.’

‘I think you’re right,’ she replied. He seemed amused by her defiance.

Stikes held up Nina’s wallet. ‘Well, look what I’ve found!’ he said with exaggerated cheer, thumbing out a business card. She recognised it as the one Larry Chase had given to her. He grinned malevolently at Eddie. ‘So, how are your daddy issues these days, Chase? Still mad at him for f*cking other women behind Mummy’s back?’

Eddie said nothing, but his jaw muscles clenched. Stikes chuckled, pleased at having touched a nerve, then opened the metal case from Nina’s backpack. The three statuettes were revealed within.

Callas crouched to look more closely, tapping the half-figure. ‘This was in the ruins,’ he said, puzzled. ‘But the other two . . . ’

‘You didn’t take it?’ Stikes asked.

‘It wasn’t gold or silver, just stone. Broken stone! It is worthless.’

‘Apparently not,’ said Stikes, shooting Nina a calculating look. He gave the bagged khipu a similarly intrigued appraisal, then carried on with his check of the team’s belongings. Kit’s was the last; after reading his identity card, he regarded the Indian with surprise. ‘Interpol? Inter-esting.’ A small smile to match the joke. ‘Now, why would the head of the Cultural Property Crime Unit be personally poking around in the jungle?’

‘Interpol?’ Callas said in alarm. He pointed his gun at Kit. ‘Who have you told about this place?’

‘Everyone,’ said Eddie.

‘Nobody,’ Stikes said simultaneously. ‘If they’d told anyone, Suarez would have ordered your arrest by now.’

‘Then we must make sure they never do tell anyone.’ Callas stepped back, nodding to Rojas. Loretta started to cry again, trembling. The soldiers readied their weapons.

Stikes raised a hand, as if about to object – but Eddie spoke first. ‘Kill us and you’ll never find the real treasure – in El Dorado.’

‘Eddie!’ Nina protested.

Callas laughed. ‘This is El Dorado. The lost city of gold!’

‘If you were an archaeologist, you’d know it’s not. This place is called Paititi. Didn’t pay attention to anything but the gold, did you?’

Eddie’s eyes were fixed on Callas; meanwhile, Stikes scrutinised Eddie’s expression. ‘You know, Salbatore . . . he may be telling the truth.’

‘What?’ Callas demanded.

‘Chase here is very protective of the so-called innocent, so he’ll say whatever it takes to save them . . . but he’s not a natural liar. Blunt, simple-minded honesty is one of his defining characteristics.’ He looked towards the ruins. ‘It’s possible they have found something else – especially considering his wife’s talent for discovering lost civilisations.’

Callas stood before Nina, gun still in his hand. ‘Then we only need to keep one archaeologist alive, don’t we?’

She glared at him. ‘Hurt anyone else and I’ll never tell you anything.’

His lips spread into a lupine smile. ‘Oh, you will. I promise you.’

A noise came from the jungle, the whine of a straining engine. A military truck lumbered into view, jolting along the rutted logging track. Eddie tensed, ready to take advantage of the distraction, but the jab of an AK’s muzzle into his back told him that his guards were expecting it.

The driver seemed surprised to see them, however; the truck had apparently set out before the SOS was received. It stopped in the clearing. The general shouted an order, and Cuff’s corpse was tossed like garbage into the vehicle’s open back.

Callas turned back to Nina. ‘I have a use for your friends after all.’ He clicked his fingers. His troops straightened, ready for action. ‘Bring them to the city.’

The use Callas had in mind was purely physical: slave labour, to help move his biggest prize. The prisoners were held at gunpoint in the plaza while men went into the Temple of the Sun to complete the assembly of the block and tackle before the two-ton golden disc was prised from the wall with jacks and slowly, carefully, lowered to stand on its edge between supports on the specially built cart.

Once it was done, the explorers were forced to help move the trolley and its weighty cargo to the top of the steps. Other soldiers assembled a makeshift ramp from stout planks so that it could be lowered to the plaza, where the overhanging jungle canopy was thin enough for it to be airlifted out without risking damage. Callas stood nearby, watching the disc’s slow progress from behind his sunglasses.

Stikes, meanwhile, disappeared into the palace. When he returned, Loretta’s camera in hand, his expression was more calculating than ever. ‘I think Chase really was telling the truth,’ he told Callas. ‘There’s a painting on the wall, an account of what I assume is the Incas fleeing the Spanish – I’m hardly an expert on Inca history. But,’ he added, gesturing at Nina, ‘I know someone who is.’

‘She can tell us how to find El Dorado?’ Callas asked.

‘I’m sure she can, yes. Given the right kind of encouragement.’

Callas nodded. ‘She will have it. But after the operation. That must come first.’

‘Well, of course. That’s why I’m here, after all.’

‘Why are you here, Stikes?’ Eddie demanded as he strained with the others to push the cart to the ramp. ‘You’ve got your knock-off SAS beret on, so I’m guessing you’re pretending to be a soldier.’

‘Actually, I’m in the same line of work as you used to be, from what I heard on the grapevine. A private military contractor.’

‘You’re a mercenary?’ said Nina disapprovingly.

‘Aren’t we all, ultimately? We provide our skills to those who need them, in return for money. Mine happen to be in the field of conflict resolution. 3S – that’s my company’s name, for Stikes Security Solutions—’

‘Not Stupid Southern Shitehawk?’ Eddie cut in.

Stikes kicked him hard, dropping him to his knees. The guards quickly moved in, AKs raised to deter Eddie from retaliating as he painfully stood back up. ‘As I was saying,’ Stikes continued, as if nothing had happened, ‘my company has been rather successful, what with all the opportunities in Afghanistan and Iraq. But things are tailing off now, so it’s time to look for new markets.’ A nod to Callas. ‘And new clients.’

‘There are no conflicts inside Venezuela,’ said Valero. ‘Only the fight against imperialist aggression.’

Callas laughed sarcastically. ‘The voice of the new convert! What were you before you put on that joke of a uniform? A farmhand? A dog from the barrios? You have no idea what is really going on in this country.’

‘He’s right, though,’ said Stikes. ‘There certainly won’t be any conflicts in Venezuela – once we’re finished.’

Another laugh from the general. ‘That is true.’

‘Finished what?’ Eddie asked.

But no answer was forthcoming, Callas instead walking to the steps in response to a call from below. The ramp was complete. The general issued more orders, and chains were attached to the cart and looped round thick stone pillars at the top of the stairs so the workforce could lower the sun disc slowly to the plaza. It was made very clear to the unwilling members of the group that if the cart broke free and its cargo was damaged, they would all be shot.

After ten minutes of straining, sixteen people struggling to hold the great weight of the Inca treasure on the incline, the sun disc was safely off the foot of the ramp. Arms aching, Eddie nevertheless kept a close watch on Stikes and Callas. Once the golden artefact had been wheeled to the clearing and crated up ready to be lifted by helicopter, the only expedition member they needed to keep alive was Nina. Any opportunity to escape, however slim, would have to be taken.

But even with the majority of the soldiers helping move the sun disc, there were still four guards with AKs, and both Callas and Stikes were armed; the mercenary carried a gleaming nickel-plated Jericho 941 automatic, an Israeli weapon styled to resemble its larger and more famous Desert Eagle cousin, in a hip holster. And the crate was not far away; it would take just a few minutes to reach.

Not much time. There had to be some way they could break loose.

Maybe there was.

The mud near the tent, still churned up from where Eddie had fought the soldier. The cart would be pushed right past it . . .

‘Move!’ barked Callas, pointing across the plaza.

Everyone resumed their positions: Kit, Osterhagen, Becker and Loretta holding the chains to pull the sun disc, Eddie, Nina and Macy pushing the cart, both groups joined by soldiers. The cart’s fat tyres squeaked, bulging under the great weight as it rolled inch by inch across the uneven stone flags.

It drew closer to the patch of sludge. Eddie whispered to Nina, ‘I’m going to try something in a minute. If it works, run.’

‘What about the others?’

He couldn’t speak any louder without risking being overheard. ‘Just hope they’re quick on the uptake. This mud, coming up – get ready.’

The group pulling the chains were already angling to avoid the obstacle. Eddie checked the mud as the trolley skirted it.

The knife he had knocked from the soldier’s hand was still where it had fallen, almost submerged in the thick brown ooze.

He shifted position, moving his feet further from the trolley. Only another couple of steps now. A sidelong glance at the nearest guard. If he saw what he was doing . . .

Last step—

He planted his right foot into the mud – and felt the knife under his sole.

Now!

Eddie pretended to slip, his other foot slithering in the mud. He brought his right sharply forward to regain his balance, dragging the knife with it.

The guard would see if he tried to pick up the blade. Instead, he shoved it forward again and pressed the edge of his boot down hard on the hilt, forcing the blade upwards—

Into one of the tyres.

The point stabbed through the rubber as the cart rolled over it. The tyre exploded with a bang as loud as a gunshot, the sudden extra strain on the two neighbouring wheels causing them to compress.

Top-heavy, unbalanced, the cart tipped over.

Eddie and Nina jumped back—

One of the soldiers tripped, landing beside the cart. His panicked scream was abruptly cut off as the sun disc fell on top of him, two tons of dense metal flattening him with a splatter of blood and mud.

‘Run!’ Eddie yelled. He punched out a guard and broke into a sprint for the nearest alley.

Nina started to run after him, but another soldier blocked her way. She tried to swerve past – only to slip in the mud, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Macy fared even less well. She had instinctively leapt back as the sun disc fell, colliding with the soldier behind. Before she could twist away, he tackled her.

Of the other team members, both Osterhagen and Loretta were too surprised to think of fleeing, turning in startled confusion. Kit, sandwiched between two soldiers, got just a couple of feet before he was grabbed. Only Becker managed to break away, barging another soldier out of his path and running for the main gate—

Callas bellowed in Spanish: ‘Stop him!’ The guards hurriedly brought up their weapons and tracked the gangling German. He weaved desperately as the shots closed in.

One tore a thumb-sized chunk of flesh from his thigh. He fell.

Stikes was hunting another target, snapping the Jericho from his holster and whirling to track Eddie as he ran. He fired – but his target had already ducked behind a tree, the 9mm round smacking into the trunk. Stikes cursed and moved to get a better firing angle.

Too late. Eddie disappeared between two buildings, a second bullet hitting only his shadow. Stikes hissed in frustration and ran after him.

Eddie realised he was heading back towards where he had emerged from the pit. That gave him the advantage, however small, of knowing the terrain. Was there anywhere he could stage an ambush?

Yes. If he could reach it before being shot in the back.

He swatted branches aside, following his footprints in the dirt. He could hear Stikes pounding after him, boots thudding rhythmically down the narrow alleyway. Gaining. The taller, leaner officer had always been faster, and while both men had stayed fit after leaving the SAS, Eddie had spent the better part of five years in an office. Another bullet cracked against the wall behind him, the Jericho’s bark echoing through the ancient city. From somewhere deep inside he dredged up an extra burst of speed, swinging round the next corner—

The collapsed section of battlement was ahead – but Eddie was only interested in the vines and ivy hanging from the wall a few yards away, the entrance to the lower level all but invisible behind them.

He dived through, rolling and taking up position at the squat opening. His passage had ripped away some of the creepers – if Stikes spotted the gap and guessed his plan, a few bullets fired through the green curtain would end it instantly.

Footsteps. Stikes had reached the corner. They got closer.

Slowed.

Eddie peered through the leaves. Stikes drew nearer, moving at a cautious walking pace. Eddie tensed, waiting for the best moment to attack – or run. Had Stikes seen the archway, or. . .

The mercenary went past. He hadn’t spotted the entrance, instead heading for the doorway of a nearby ruined building. But it would only take him a second to see that there was nobody inside—

Eddie burst out through the vines.

Stikes spun at the crackle of branches – and Eddie slammed him against a wall. He fired, muzzle flame scorching the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket. Eddie responded by grabbing his wrist and smashing it against the edge of a stone block. Stikes barely held in a grunt of pain as the gun was jolted from his grasp. Eddie shoulder-barged him against the wall, then reached for the fallen Jericho—

Stikes whipped up one knee, catching him in the side and making him stumble. He twisted away from Eddie, then lunged, trying to catch him in a headlock.

Eddie lashed out with a foot, catching his kneecap. Stikes grunted again, reeling – then let out a full-blown groan as Eddie drove a solid punch into his stomach. The Yorkshireman pressed home the attack, delivering another blow to his midsection before landing an uppercut on his jaw. Stikes fell against the wall, blood round his mouth. ‘Always knew you were just a f*cking Rupert!’ Eddie snarled: army slang for a useless upperclass officer. He pulled back his fist for a knockout blow. ‘Can’t win in a proper fight—’

Two of Callas’s men ran round the corner, raising their AK-103s—

Eddie hauled Stikes away from the wall and shoved him back at the two soldiers. In the confines of the alley they couldn’t fire without hitting him, giving Eddie the chance to sprint in the other direction.

Stikes shook off his dizziness. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he shouted in Spanish, moving aside to give them a clear shot. ‘Shoot him!’

They opened fire – just as Eddie reached the collapsed wall and made a running jump into the jungle beyond.

He was over forty feet above the ground, nothing to stop his fall except the branches of a nearby tree. Leaves smacked at his face as he arced through the foliage, arms thrown wide . . .

He hit the damp wood hard, a bough thumping against his chest. Winded, he grabbed it. There was a sudden explosion of movement around him – dozens of small, brightly coloured birds in the tree took to the air in alarm, shrilling and chittering. The branch bounced as if trying to shake him off, but he kept his hold.

He looked for a way to the ground – but the tree chose one for him. The branch snapped. Eddie dropped – and was caught in a knot of creepers, swinging at the trunk.

He braced himself—

Smaller branches absorbed some of the impact, but they also ripped through his clothes, cutting him in several places. He jerked his head sideways just in time to avoid being blinded by one stub, the wood slashing a line across his cheek.

Crackles from above. The creepers were tearing apart. He tried to find a secure handhold, but the branches he clutched all broke under his weight.

He fell again – and hit a twist in the crooked trunk, bouncing off and landing in the overgrown marsh with a thick splash. Despite the pain, he crawled back towards the tree, pushing through the undergrowth.

Above, the two soldiers reached the broken wall and looked into the jungle. Birds whirled madly through the branches, leaves dropping like green snowflakes from the still shaking tree. No sign of the escaped prisoner.

Stikes pushed them aside. ‘Give me that!’ he barked, snatching the AK from one of the men. He aimed it into the tree, seeing no sign of his former subordinate, then down at the ground.

Movement in the bushes—

Stikes opened fire as Eddie scrambled for cover. Bullets thunked into the tree, bark and splinters spitting from each impact. But his target was now hunched against the other side of the trunk, shielded by over two feet of wood. Stikes fired the last rounds in the magazine, then irritably thrust the AK into its owner’s hands. ‘Get back to Callas.’

The other soldier still had his weapon fixed on the tree. ‘We can climb down and get him.’

‘No,’ Stikes said. ‘We need to get the sun disc out of here. Come on.’ He headed back down the alley, retrieving his Jericho. The soldiers followed.

Eddie sat breathlessly behind the tree, wondering if his pursuers had their weapons trained on his hiding place, waiting for him to emerge. After a minute, he risked a peek. Nobody above. They had gone.

Aching, he stood, trying to work out the quickest way to get back into the ruins. Scaling the cliff was out; from here, he would have to go almost halfway round the entire perimeter. He limped away, hearing the rumble of the helicopter drawing closer to the lost city.

‘Did you kill him?’ Callas called as Stikes and the soldiers returned to the plaza.

‘No. He got away,’ the Englishman replied.

‘You let him escape?’

‘He won’t go far, not as long as we have them.’ Stikes gestured at the prisoners, who apart from the wounded Becker had been forced back to work. ‘He’ll try to rescue them. I’d advise that we leave before then.’

A faintly dismissive sneer crossed Callas’s lips. ‘You’re afraid of him?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ Stikes snapped, wiping the blood from his mouth. ‘But if we leave him behind, there are only two towns he can reach from here – and you can have men waiting for him at both.’ He regarded the blood-spattered sun disc, which had been lifted back upright on the cart. ‘How long before the chopper can pick it up?’

‘A few minutes.’

‘Good. Send two men to guard the trucks – he might try to hijack or sabotage them. The rest, tell them to help load the sun disc as quickly as they can. The moment it leaves the ground, we’ll evacuate.’

The Venezuelan stiffened slightly at being given orders by his employee, but nevertheless called out instructions. Two of his men ran for the main gate, the others doing what they could to speed the golden disc’s laborious progress. Before long, it reached the waiting crate; a few more minutes of straining, and it was safely in the container. By now, the Mil was hovering directly over the clearing, lowering cables. Soldiers attached the steel lines to the crate as the others forced the prisoners back at gunpoint. Another minute, and a man signalled to Callas that it was ready.

‘Take it up!’ the general shouted impatiently, waving to the helicopter.

The Mi-17 increased power to full, engines screaming as they took the extra load. The crate lurched from the ground. For a moment it seemed as though it would get no higher, swaying pendulously a few inches above the flagstones; then it slowly began to rise.

Callas watched in satisfaction as the helicopter lifted its precious cargo higher. The crate cleared the trees, then the Mil turned lethargically northwest, heading for the military base. Aircraft and cargo disappeared from view behind the jungle canopy.

It was now Stikes’s turn to be impatient. ‘Time to go,’ he said. His gaze fell on the prisoners. ‘What about them?’

‘We take them with us,’ said Callas. ‘I don’t want anyone to know we were here.’

‘All the bullet holes you’ve left in the place might give it away,’ Nina said scathingly. ‘And all the gear you’ve left behind - as well as Flat Stanley there.’ She nodded towards the gory spot where the luckless soldier had been squashed beneath the sun disc.

‘I will send more men to collect them later,’ the general replied as he started for the gate, signalling his men to bring the explorers. Becker was half carried, half dragged by two soldiers. ‘And a bullet hole is a bullet hole. Anyone could have made them at any time. But the bodies of archaeologists known to be in the country on a particular date . . . that would be harder to explain if they were found here.’ A sadistic hardness entered his voice. ‘But where you are going, you will never be found.’

Despite her outward defiance, a chill of fear ran through Nina’s soul.

Eddie climbed back up the outer wall where he had first entered the city, warily surveying the buildings below before scrambling down the ruined stairway and heading for the plaza. He was on full alert, certain that Callas’s men would be searching for him - which made the absence of any guards all the more disconcerting as he crept through the alleys.

He peered over a wall at the plaza. Nobody was there. The soldiers, Callas and Stikes were gone. So were Nina and the other expedition members.

And the sun disc.

Callas had what he came for – the golden god-image had been taken away by the helicopter. He vaulted the wall and hurried across the plaza. Tracks in the dirt led to the main gate - and the smaller prints of women’s boots amongst them showed that Nina, Macy and Loretta were still alive. Callas presumably had some reason for not wanting their bodies to be found at Paititi, but Eddie was certain that he still intended to kill them. He would be taking them somewhere he could be sure they wouldn’t be found. Where?

The military base. A restricted area in the depths of the jungle, what few visitors it might get deterred by barbed wire and bullets. Once Nina and the others entered, they would never leave.

He ran for the gate. As he cleared the ancient walls, he heard something over the noise of birds and insects: a low grumble. Engines.

Receding. The trucks were already heading away down the logging track.

‘Shit!’ He stopped, forcing back his anger, trying to think. There was only one road, and it took a long and circuitous route back to Valverde and the spur leading to the base. It would take a couple of hours for Callas’s convoy to get there. The base itself was about five miles to the northwest . . .

Eddie already knew there was only one course of action he could take.

He raised his wrist, turning in place until the hour hand of his watch pointed at the sun. South, he knew from his military training, was exactly halfway between the hour hand and the twelve o’clock position on the watch face. With that established, it only took a moment to work out which way was northwest. One last look after the vehicles carrying his wife and friends, then he set off at a run into the trees.