Empire of Gold

by Andy McDermott

  ‘Family doesn’t count for much when there’s big money involved.’

  One soldier flicked away his cigarette and ambled back towards the tent, skirting patches of mud where the flagstones had subsided. The other checked his watch, then picked up his AK and followed.

  Eddie moved back. ‘We should leave.’

  ‘No,’ Valero insisted. ‘As a member of the Bolivarian Militia, if a crime is being committed it is my duty to stop it.’ He puffed out his chest. ‘I will talk to these men, and if I do not like their answers, I will arrest them.’

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Both soldiers were tall and muscular, and looked to Eddie as if their combined ages matched Valero’s alone. ‘They’re not going to bend over for an ex-chef.’

  The Venezuelan scowled, insulted, and put one hand on his sidearm. ‘They will do what I tell them. I have a gun.’

  ‘They’ve got two.’

  ‘I have authority from the President himself! I am in charge here, gringo.’

  He started towards the plaza, but Eddie held out an arm to block him. ‘Seriously, mate. Bad idea. We should get back to the Jeeps and you can call your people from there.’

  Valero pushed him away. ‘Wait here. I will deal with this.’ He headed into the open.

  ‘Fucking idiot,’ Eddie growled, watching from the corner. So inattentive were the soldiers that they didn’t notice the approaching militiaman until he was barely twenty feet from them – at which point they reacted with a start, fumbling for their rifles.

  Valero drew his gun. They froze. He spoke commandingly in Spanish as he strode up to them, no doubt demanding to know what they were doing. To Eddie’s surprise, they responded, if uncertainly; it seemed that he had been the domineering kind of chef. One of them pointed towards the temple. Valero instinctively turned to look—

  The other soldier whipped up his rifle and viciously clubbed him in the head.

  Valero staggered, and the soldier hit him again, knocking him down. His companion slammed a kick into his stomach, then grabbed the fallen man’s pistol before kicking him once more.

  ‘Shit!’ Eddie hissed, torn between two instincts. He didn’t want to abandon Valero, but he needed to warn Nina and the others. The soldiers would assume that the intruder wasn’t alone, and either start hunting for the archaeological team or call for backup—

  The decision was made for him as one of the soldiers spotted him lurking in the alley. The man shouted and raised his gun.

  Eddie turned and ran as bullets cracked off the stonework behind him.

  10

  Nina whirled in horror at the sound of gunfire. The echoes of the first burst faded away, the cries of frightened birds replacing them – then came another harsh rattle of shots.

  Nearer.

  ‘Get back over the wall!’ she shouted to the others.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Kit demanded as the explorers rushed for the ruined stairway.

  ‘To find Eddie!’ She charged down the alley.

  Becker, closest to the steps, was the first to begin his ascent. Osterhagen followed, picking his way up the broken section. Loose stones rattled under his weight. ‘Come on, schnell!’ he called down to his companions, before looking up at the panicked figure on top of the wall. ‘Loretta, run to the Jeeps!’

  Cuff was right behind him, practically barging his team leader aside as he tried to claw his way up the broken stairs. ‘Move it, move it!’ he yelled. ‘I don’t wanna—’

  A block burst loose under his foot. He tripped, chest thudding against the hard-edged stones, and fell back down to the ground. The entire base of the stairs collapsed, stones crashing after him. Osterhagen almost slipped as part of his footing disappeared.

  ‘You idiot!’ Kit shouted at the winded American. ‘You almost brought the whole thing down!’ Above, Becker hauled Osterhagen to safety. ‘Macy, I’ll pull you up.’

  ‘What about Nina and Eddie?’ she protested.

  ‘You can’t help them – you’ve got to get out of here!’ He jumped to grab the surviving part of the stairway as another burst of fire rolled through the ruins.

  Eddie raced through the crooked streets, swatting greenery out of his path. Only one soldier was pursuing, the other holding Valero, but the AK-103’s firepower meant that he was completely outmatched. His only chance was to draw his pursuer away from the rest of the team, then either lose him in the maze or stage an ambush—

  ‘Eddie! Eddie, where are you?’

  Nina, somewhere ahead. Shit! So much for leading the man away from the others! ‘They’re soldiers! Get back!’ he yelled, rounding a corner to see her running towards him. Another three-round burst cut through the air behind, chipped stone spitting at his head. Nina hurriedly reversed direction, disappearing from view.

  He only had a short lead – shorter than the stretch of the alley before him. The soldier would have a clear shot at his back . . .

  A gap between two buildings to his right formed a small courtyard, a five-foot-high wall at its rear. Eddie swerved into the space just as the soldier saw him and fired again, bullets hissing through the air in his wake. He leapt at the wall, slapping his palms down hard on its top to vault over it—

  The ivy-covered stones broke away beneath his hands.

  Thrown off balance, he hit the wall and tumbled over it, realising too late that the drop on the other side was much higher . . .

  All that saved him from serious injury as he slammed to the ground twelve feet below was the centuries-old build-up of dirt – and even that couldn’t prevent a bone-jarring landing. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his cheek.

  He groaned and spat out a crimson glob, levering himself upright. Footsteps slapped through the alley above. The soldier was right on him. The only way out of the sunless pit was through a narrow passage.

  He ran for it.

  The AK’s thudding bark filled the confined space as the soldier leaned over the broken wall and fired. Bullets kicked up mud as they smacked into the ground, but Eddie was in the passage, the rest of the shots twanging noisily off the ancient stonework. Trampling plants, he darted round a corner to find a flight of steps winding upwards. He hurriedly ascended them, listening for the thump of the soldier jumping down after him.

  It didn’t come. The Venezuelan wasn’t willing to take a leap into the unknown. Instead, he was continuing along the alley.

  After Nina.

  Nina raced back to the stairway, seeing Kit trying to pull Macy up. Osterhagen and Becker had just reached the top of the wall, but Cuff was still waiting anxiously at its base. ‘Soldiers!’ she shouted. ‘Right behind me – everyone run!’

  Macy gave Kit a fearful look – even with his help, she was still having trouble climbing. There was no way she could reach the top of the wall before Nina’s pursuer arrived. ‘Hide!’ the Interpol agent ordered. She nodded, and he released her hands. Arms flailing for balance, she scuttled back down the pile of stones and ran for the roofless buildings.

  ‘Hey! What about me?’ yelped Cuff as Kit rushed up the stairs after the two Germans.

  ‘Just run, you moron!’ Nina yelled as she sprinted past him into another undergrowth-clogged alley. He hesitated, then started to follow—

  ‘Hey! Alto!’

  The soldier burst into the open, aiming his gun at Cuff. The American gasped in terror, throwing up his hands. The Venezuelan looked round, glimpsing Macy as she ducked into the house Nina had explored earlier. Movement above – he fired at Kit, but the Indian threw himself the last few feet up the steps and disappeared over the top of the great wall.

  His smoking AK-103 fixed on Cuff’s chest, the soldier advanced on him. ‘Don’t shoot, don’t shoot me!’ Cuff stammered. ‘I – I have dollars! American dollars!’ One shaking hand reached to a pocket. The soldier’s finger tightened on the trigger. ‘No, no, no! Please! Dollars, see?’ He took out his wallet and tremblingly thumbed it open to reveal a wad of banknotes inside, then tossed it to the
ground. ‘Take it!’

  The soldier regarded the money for a moment, then lowered the rifle. Cuff whimpered in relief – and the weapon’s stock smashed into his mouth, spilling blood and broken teeth. He collapsed on the muddy ground, clutching his jaw and moaning. A dark patch spread on his trousers as he wet himself.

  His attacker shot him a brief sneer, then turned to hunt another intruder.

  Macy.

  The archaeology student was already regretting her choice of hiding place. The ancient house was more like a cell; small, devoid of concealment and with no other exit – except the window. She slipped her arms into the hole. It was narrower at the top than the bottom, but she hauled herself through, head and shoulders clearing the sill as she wriggled the rest of her body out—

  A single gunshot, the bullet shattering part of the lintel. Stone chips stung her backside and thighs. She screamed, freezing.

  ‘Well, look at that!’ said a man in Spanish with a mocking laugh. ‘Now that’s a gorgeous ass – and in just the right position.’ Macy heard him cross the room. ‘Maybe I should keep you there, eh? Have some fun.’ She flinched as a hand squeezed her left buttock. ‘Now that’s—’

  There was a muffled crack, followed by the thump of something heavy hitting the floor. Then silence. ‘Er . . . hello?’ she whispered nervously.

  ‘Get your ass out of there, Macy,’ said a familiar New York voice.

  ‘Nina!’ Macy cried as another hand pulled her backwards. She found the soldier slumped at her feet, Nina standing over him. ‘What did you do?’

  The redhead held up the bolas. One of the rotten ropes had fallen apart when she pulled the weapon out of the muck, but its other two stone spheres were still connected. ‘I got him by the balls. Or with the balls, but same thing.’ She dropped them and picked up the unconscious man’s AK. ‘Tell Kit to come back down and keep an eye on this guy, then help that idiot Cuff.’

  ‘What about you?’ Macy asked as the other woman returned to the doorway.

  Nina looked back at her, determined. ‘I’m going to find Eddie.’ She moved off at a run, shouting. ‘Eddie! I’ve got his gun!’

  Reaching the top of the long, twisting stairs, Eddie thought at first he was trapped in a dead end, but then he found a low opening almost completely hidden behind a curtain of ivy and creepers. He pushed through the plants to find himself on a narrow street. To one side, he saw what he realised was a battlement along the top of the cliff bounding one side of the ruined city, a collapsed section revealing the foliage of trees beyond. He went the other way, heading back towards Paititi’s centre.

  Before long, the street opened on to the central plaza and he stopped, looking out cautiously. The second soldier stood near the tent with his gun pointed at Valero, who was kneeling with his hands on his head. If he could approach without being seen, maybe—

  The soldier’s head snapped round at a shout. Eddie heard it too. Nina! But he couldn’t make out what she was saying, echoes and his own less than perfect hearing muffling her words.

  The soldier seemed to understand them, though. To Eddie’s surprise, he didn’t react by bringing up his weapon, but instead backed in concern towards the tent, AK still covering Valero.

  Nina called out again, closer. This time he made it out. She had got the other soldier’s rifle. No wonder the man here was worried.

  But why was he going to the tent? A different weapon wouldn’t give him an advantage . . .

  He realised what was within the canvas shelter just as the soldier groped inside. He was getting a radio, calling for backup.

  Eddie burst out of cover and charged at the tent. A click and a hiss of static, then the noise was cut off as the soldier, still guarding Valero, pushed the handset’s transmit button and started speaking in urgent Spanish. The word ‘Socorro!’ stood out – help!

  More troops would be coming . . .

  Eddie dived at the tent. The whole thing collapsed, knocking the Venezuelan down under the flapping fabric. The radio hit the stone flags with a heavy clunk.

  The soldier had managed to keep hold of his AK. He fired wildly, bullets pitting the buildings at the plaza’s edge. Valero rolled for cover behind a tree. Eddie scrambled to his feet and kicked, catching the soldier’s arm and sending the AK-103 spinning across the plaza.

  The Venezuelan grimaced, shaking off the camouflaged shroud. He looked for his gun, saw it was out of reach, turned back to face Eddie – and drew a knife.

  Eddie took on a defensive posture, judging his opponent. The Venezuelan was bigger than him, and probably fifteen years younger. He would have faster reactions, but less experience and training – his uniform was regular army, not special forces. The Englishman’s gaze flitted between the six-inch blade and his opponent’s eyes, waiting for the first sign of the inevitable attack—

  The knife thrust at his chest. Eddie twisted to avoid it, then tried to grab the soldier’s wrist, but the Venezuelan had already pulled back. Another stab, another dodge, the razor edge this time close enough to rasp against his jacket’s steel zip.

  Third strike—

  Eddie gripped the soldier’s arm – but the knife sliced across his chest, tearing his T-shirt. He grunted at the sharp pain, battling to keep hold as the man tried to shake him off. A sweep of his elbow, the point cracking against the soldier’s face just under his left eye socket.

  The Venezuelan staggered, giving Eddie the chance to chop at his hand, trying to force him to drop the knife. Another fierce blow, the soldier’s grip loosening . . .

  The man shoved Eddie backwards across the uneven stone slabs into a patch of mud. With one last strike Eddie finally knocked the knife away, but his feet slipped in the ooze. One boot lost its grip, and he fell.

  He landed on his back with a thick splash, the soldier on top of him. And now it was the Venezuelan’s turn to use his elbow, driving it down with all his weight into Eddie’s stomach.

  Even tensing his abdominal muscles to absorb the impact, Eddie still convulsed in sickening, breathless pain. His groan was choked off as the man clamped his hands round his throat. He tried to claw at the soldier’s eyes, but the Venezuelan pulled back out of Eddie’s reach as he squeezed harder—

  The pressure abruptly eased. The soldier was no longer looking down at Eddie, but at something above. The Yorkshireman tipped his head back to see an inverted world, buildings hanging over the empty abyss of the sky . . . and an upside-down Nina pointing an AK-103 at his attacker.

  A quick flick of her eyebrows told the soldier to release him. Eddie drew in a hoarse breath as his adversary nervously withdrew, and sat up. ‘You okay?’ Nina asked.

  He coughed. ‘Bit of a hairball. What about the others?’

  ‘Macy’s fine, Cuff’ll need a trip to the orthodontist but looked okay apart from that. Kit’s watching the other guy; everyone else got up the wall.’

  ‘Good.’ He stood, giving the soldier a threatening glare before calling to Valero. ‘Oscar!’ He pointed to the fallen AK. ‘Get the gun – I’ll tie him up.’

  Nina kept her rifle aimed at the soldier as Valero retrieved the second Kalashnikov. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘If loggers found this place, what’s the army doing here?’

  ‘Maybe loggers did find it,’ said Eddie, tugging a length of guy rope from the tent. ‘But they wouldn’t know how to sell the stuff they found, so they started asking around – and word got back to someone at that radar base. Quick arrest, bit of an interrogation, and now someone with stripes on their sleeve knows all about Paititi – and how much treasure’s hidden in it.’ He pulled the rope through the last eyelet and lifted the canvas - to expose a field radio lying on its side, the handset trapped beneath it. The transmit light was on. ‘Buggeration and fuckery,’ he said, lifting the radio and seeing that the handset’s key had been depressed by the unit’s weight; as soon as it was released, the channel cleared and an urgent voice crackled through the speaker. He hurriedly switched it off. ‘He managed to warn his ma
tes – we need to get out of here.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Nina as Eddie tied up the soldier. She gestured towards the large buildings at the plaza’s western end. ‘We need to at least check the temple and the palace first. These guys have already stolen potentially millions of dollars of artefacts – we’ve got to see if there’s anything left before they strip the whole place bare.’

  ‘We don’t have time. If they think somebody’s found their little secret, they’ll probably be on their way here already.’

  ‘No, I agree with Dr Wilde,’ said Valero. ‘It took us over two hours to reach here from Valverde – it will take even longer from the military base. If we take the road south to Matuso, they will never catch up with us. And when we get to the Jeep, I can use the satellite phone to report to the Bolivarian Militia. The more I know about what is here, the more I can tell my superiors.’