Empire of Gold_A Novel

by Andy McDermott

  “I’m fine, Nan. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Oh, I feel a lot better, thank you. I still have to wear this silly mask, but hopefully not for much longer—Oh, excuse me.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m a bit tired.”

  “Sorry, I forgot about the time difference!” England was five and a half hours ahead of Venezuela, making it past ten o’clock in Bournemouth. “I’ll call back another time.”

  “No, don’t be silly, Edward. It’s never a problem staying up to talk to you. Where are you ringing from?”

  “We’re in Venezuela, but probably won’t be for long. Nina’s on the trail of something.”

  “Venezuela!” Nan said, alarmed. “Is it safe there? I saw all that trouble on the news.”

  “Yeah, we saw some of it too,” said Eddie, smiling to himself. “But everything’s okay now.”

  “Oh, I’m glad. You do lead an exciting life. But when are you going to be in the newspapers, or on television? Everyone saw Nina in the Sphinx last year, but you were only in the background. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I’m not much of one for publicity. Nina isn’t either,” he added, “but she sort of gets stuck with it. Besides, who wants to be famous? I’d rather be rich.”

  “Well, you’d better get to work on that. And while you’re at it, some great-grandchildren for your old nan would be nice. Before I pop my clogs.”

  “Plenty of time for that, Nan,” Eddie insisted. “But I’ll see what Nina thinks once we find what she’s after.”

  At that moment, Nina burst into the room. “Eddie, Eddie!” she said in excitement. “We’ve found it! Come and see!” She rushed back out.

  “She doesn’t waste time, does she?” said Nan, amused. “So, about those great-grandchildren …”

  “Eddie!”

  He sighed. “I’d better go, before she drags me out. But I’ll call you again when I get the chance.”

  “That’ll be lovely. Will you be coming back to England? I’d love to see you again.”

  “Yeah, soon as I can. I’ll take you for another walk down to the sea.”

  “I can’t wait. Talk to you again soon, Edward. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he replied. “Bye.”

  “Good-bye, love.”

  He hung up, then went into the lounge just as Mac and Kit entered. “We were summoned,” Mac told him wryly.

  The three men joined the archaeologists at the table. “So what’ve we got?” Eddie asked.

  “This is where we’re looking,” said Nina, tapping a map of Peru. The area beneath her fingernail was in the Amazonas region, south of the border with Ecuador, on the eastern flank of the Andes. “Leonard worked out that one of the last places the Incas visited en route was Kuélap, which is a pretty amazing fortress near Chachapoyas.” She flipped open a reference book to show her audience a picture of its imposing outer wall.

  “Impressive,” said Mac. “And it looks in good shape too. Did the Spanish discover it?”

  “Actually, no,” Osterhagen told him. “Even though they reached that region, they never found it—which is why it has survived so well.”

  “Which makes it more likely that they never found El Dorado either,” said Nina. “The whole region is cloud forest—high-altitude jungle. Very few inhabitants, now or then—and lots of places to hide.”

  “So how close have you got to finding it?” Eddie asked.

  “We think within a couple of miles. The directions from Kuélap take you more or less due north for about forty miles, until you reach the point where the Incas headed northeast toward Paititi.”

  Kit peered at the map’s contour lines. “It looks rather hard to get to.”

  Osterhagen shook his head. “Not as hard as you think. There is a road that runs through the mountains. Well, I say a road, but it will not exactly be an autobahn. It will be narrow, it will be steep … and it will be dangerous. Very dangerous.”

  “Oh, great,” said Eddie. “A death road.”

  “A what?” Macy asked, alarmed.

  “Well, you know how in the States dangerous roads have barriers and warning signs and curbs to keep you away from massive cliffs?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This won’t.” She appeared unhappy at the prospect.

  “Any road is better than no road,” Mac assured her. “But presumably it can’t be too close to the road, or somebody would have discovered it by now.”

  “We’ve got some more clues,” Nina replied. “The map in Paititi showed that El Dorado was very close to a waterfall.” She nodded toward a laptop. “We’ve checked the IHA’s satellite imagery, and think we’ve pinpointed it.”

  “And we should be able to drive most of the way,” said Osterhagen. “There will be a trek through the jungle, but nothing worse than at Paititi. The area around the waterfall is reasonably flat.”

  Mac nodded. “That sounds good.”

  “For what?” Eddie asked.

  “For me.”

  “What?”

  “I rather fancied coming along with you this time,” said the Scot amiably.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Not at all. I’d quite like to see one of these incredible discoveries firsthand. And to be perfectly honest, that little jaunt around Caracas the other night … well, it made me realize that in some ways I rather miss the action.”

  “But you really want to come on an expedition?” Nina asked.

  “Why not? Dr. Osterhagen said the place you’ll be exploring is fairly accessible. And just because I’ve got a tin leg doesn’t make me helpless. I’ve run a couple of half marathons on it.”

  “Well, if you think you’re up to it, I’d be happy for you to come with us,” said Nina. She saw from her husband’s face that he had a different opinion, but he said nothing. “So,” she went on, addressing the whole group, “this could be it. We might actually have found El Dorado.”

  “What’s the next move?” asked Kit.

  “The first thing is to contact the Peruvian government via the UN and ask permission to mount an expedition. Considering what we’re looking for, I think we’ll get an answer fairly quickly. Once we have that, organizing everything shouldn’t take too long. As Leonard said, we can drive there.”

  “And if we actually find El Dorado?” asked Mac.

  “Then we’ll probably be sticking around for a while! But you won’t have to stay if you don’t want to. As much as I love getting down to the real nitty-gritty of archaeological work, I know it’s not for everybody.”

  “Does that mean I can leave too?” Eddie asked, raising a few laughs.

  Kit had more to add. “When you talk to the Peruvian government, Nina, make sure you emphasize the need for security. If word gets out about what we’re searching for, the entire region will fill with treasure hunters—or worse.”

  “Wait, we?” said Eddie. “You want to come an’ all? Thought the case was closed now that we’ve got back the stuff Da—de Quesada nicked.” Only Kit noticed his near-slip, but the Interpol agent’s knowing look assured him that their mutual secret would remain that way for now.

  “Technically, it is,” said Kit. “But … well, I agree with Mac. I want to see the lost city of gold! And I also want to see what happens when Nina puts all the statues together.”

  “Okay,” said Nina. “I’ll talk to the UN tomorrow. Until then, we’re still honored guests of the Venezuelan president, so we might as well make the most of it. Dinner, I think?”

  There was a chorus of agreement from around the table. The group broke up, heading back to their rooms to freshen up and change. Eddie followed Mac out, catching up with the Scot in the corridor. “Mac. A word?”

  “Something the matter, Eddie?” Mac asked innocently.

  “You know bloody well there is. Why do you want to come with us?”

  “For exactly the reasons I told Nina. I’m honestly keen to see what she’s going to find. And since I flew halfway ’round the world, I think it
would be a shame to go home right before the interesting part.”

  “You didn’t think being shot at by a Hind was interesting?”

  “There’s interesting, and there’s interesting.” Mac smiled; then his expression became more serious. “I may be getting on, Eddie, but I’m not some invalid. And I want to make the most of life before I become one. As I told Nina, I ran some half marathons after I recovered from losing my leg, but I doubt I could manage another one.”

  “Good job you don’t need to. You’ve got a free bus pass now.”

  “Very amusing. Although I do like being able to get home without having to pay. Once I’m there, though …” A regretful tone came into his voice. “It’s rather an empty place, truth be told. Especially in the evenings. I want something to do, and people to do it with.”

  Eddie was taken aback by his friend’s confession. “Why didn’t you say something before? I could have come over to England more often.”

  “I don’t want sympathy, Eddie,” Mac snapped. “I want to play my part!”

  “You do, though. You do that consulting work for MI6, you’ve helped me and Nina out of trouble—Christ, you even saved a roomful of world leaders from getting blown up last year.”

  “We mostly have Kit to thank for that,” said Mac. “But the point is, I don’t want to suffer a gradual slide into senescence—”

  “Into what?”

  “Crumbling decrepitude. I’d rather keel over dead on the spot from a heart attack before I reach seventy than shrivel away in a hospital ward stuck full of tubes.”

  His words summoned up an image in Eddie’s mind: his grandmother, small and helpless in the hospital bed, face covered by an oxygen mask. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s no way to end up.”

  Mac recognized his change of mood, and understood its meaning. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be quite so … blunt.”

  “That’s okay.” He forced away the depressing mental picture. “So what you’re saying is, you want to fight to the end.”

  “To coin a phrase, yes.” A wry smile crinkled Mac’s features. “Although I could do without literally fighting. I’ve had more than enough of that!”

  “But you really think you’re up for it? Jungles, mountains, death roads?”

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked to go in the first place, would I?” He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “I already had you carry me to safety once in my life. Twice would be embarrassing. I still have my pride!”

  “Well … all right,” said Eddie, feigning grudging acceptance. “So long as I don’t have to share a tent with you.”

  “If that were going to happen, I’d back out right now!” They both laughed. “Better get ready for dinner. See you soon.” He headed down the hallway.

  Eddie watched him go, then returned to his own suite.

  In his room, Kit changed his shirt and put on a jacket, and was about to leave when he paused, thinking, then took out his phone. Listening at the door to make sure nobody was about to knock, he made a call. “This is Jindal.”

  “What is it?” came the terse reply.

  “Dr. Wilde thinks she has found the location of the last statue segment, in northern Peru. I’ll be accompanying her on the expedition. And, having spoken to her, I think she may be sympathetic to the Group’s goals.”

  “Good. Do whatever is necessary to ensure she recovers it. The future of the world depends on our obtaining all three statues.”

  “I’ll see to it,” said Kit, but the call had already ended.

  He was taking a huge risk by not telling his paymasters what had happened at the Clubhouse: that Stikes had tortured information about his true mission out of him, despite his best efforts to resist. The mercenary leader now knew of the Group’s existence, even if he had no specific details of its plans, for the simple reason that his interrogation subject didn’t know them himself. But that alone would be reason enough for the Group to terminate his employment … or more. In return for the considerable rewards they promised, they expected—demanded—success.

  Which, if Nina’s deductions were correct, would soon be forthcoming. Reassured, he left the room.

  THIRTY

  Peru

  So these are cloud forests, huh?” said Macy, surveying the scenery. “I can see the forest part—but where are the clouds?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Eddie, driving. “Once they come down, you won’t see anything but bloody clouds!”

  The seven-seater Nissan Patrol was in the middle of a small convoy, heading north along a dirt road that had split off from a paved highway some thirty miles north of the provincial capital, Chachapoyas. In another off-roader behind them were two Peruvian archaeologists; the tall, thin-faced Professor Miguel Olmedo from the University of Lima, and his shorter, fatter associate Dr. Julian Cruzado. A local archaeological presence was both expected and welcome, but Nina was less enthused about their also being accompanied by a senior official from the Peruvian Ministry of Culture, a rather full-of-himself man named Diego Zender who had attached himself lamprey-like to the expedition to claim a stake in the glory if the mythical El Dorado turned out actually to exist. Zender had an assistant, a young, longhaired woman called Juanita Alvarez whose function when not acting as a chauffeuse, as far as Nina could tell, was mostly to stand beside her boss looking pretty.

  But freeloaders weren’t the issue. More worrying was the profession of the four men in the leading jeep. Soldiers. Her request for security had been taken seriously, but she couldn’t help feeling that the armed group in their military vehicle might draw exactly the kind of curiosity she hoped to avoid. Zender’s claim that the troops were necessary to protect them from the terrorists known to operate in the province had not exactly been reassuring.

  But for now, Nina was able to forget such concerns and simply enjoy the landscape. The three 4×4s were heading up a long, lush valley, vegetation clinging to practically every non-sheer surface. Unlike the trees in the rain forest around Paititi, those here were rather squat, clawing moisture out of the air when the clouds descended rather than waiting for rainfall, but they were every bit as dazzlingly green in the stark high-altitude sunlight. The river that had carved the passage out of the Andes was over fifty feet below at the bottom of a ravine, but the slope they were ascending was broad enough for them to stay well clear of the drop.

  That wouldn’t be the case for long, however. In the distance, she picked out the road’s brown thread clinging precariously to the flanks of the mountains. Swaths of gray running down the hillside, as if someone had randomly scraped away a top layer of green paint, provided evidence of recent landslides. “So,” she asked Eddie, “when you mentioned death roads the other day … is that actually what they’re called?”

  “ ’Fraid so,” he replied. “Went along one in the Philippines once. Fucking terrifying! Combat’s bad, but idiot drivers are worse. The best bits of it, there was just enough room for two cars to get past each other.”

  “And the worst bits?” Kit asked from the second row of seats, where he was sitting with Macy.

  “Just enough room for one car. Only problem is, people still try to pass, ’cause nobody wants to reverse for half a mile. And God help you if a bus or a truck comes the other way—they just go We’re bigger than you, so we’ve got right-of-way and come right at you without stopping.”

  “You know,” said Mac from beside Osterhagen on the rear seats, “I think I’ll just sleep until we get there. If we go over the edge, try not to wake me with your screams, hmm?”

  “At least there is not much traffic,” Osterhagen said. “We should not have any prob—”

  At that exact moment the convoy rounded a bend—and the jeep skidded to an emergency stop. Eddie had prudently kept a safe distance behind it and was able to bring the Nissan to a halt with ten feet to spare. Unfortunately, Juanita had not been so careful, and the Patrol’s occupants took a jolt as her off-roader nudged their bumper.

  The driver of the
bus lumbering the other way gave the stalled vehicles a baleful glare. “Everyone all right?” Eddie asked, getting positive responses. He looked back at Osterhagen. “You were saying, Doc?”

  Osterhagen recovered his composure. “I was about to say that once we get past the next village, which is the last settlement for over twenty-five miles, we should not have any problems.”

  “Of course, Leonard,” said Nina teasingly.

  There was a walkie-talkie on the dashboard shelf, letting the three vehicles communicate; it squawked. “Hey, careful how you drive!” Zender demanded. “That could have damaged my car.”

  “Damage his face,” Eddie muttered, picking up the radio. “Here’s a tip—you might want to stay farther back and not drive so fast.”

  “Juanita knows how to drive,” came the peevish reply. “Now come on, get going!”

  “Think anyone’d mind if he went over the edge?” Eddie asked as the bus finally squeezed past. Nobody raised any objections. The jeep set off, the Englishman pulling out after it. With a lurch, Zender’s vehicle followed.

  About five minutes later a village came into view, ramshackle buildings clumped haphazardly on each side of the road. The jeep’s driver sounded his horn to encourage a skinny goat to clear out of their path, the blare attracting curious looks from the locals. Once the animal had ambled aside the jeep moved off again, and Eddie had started to follow when Osterhagen suddenly jumped in his seat. “Eddie, stop the car!” he cried, pointing. “Over there, look!”

  An elongated, moss-covered rock poked out of the ground like a giant raised finger. “What is it?” Nina asked.

  The German was out of the Nissan before Eddie had brought it to a complete stop. “It’s a huaca! On the map, one of the last markings before the Incas reached El Dorado was of a particular type of huaca. And this”—he pointed excitedly at the stone—“is almost identical to one on the Inca Trail—and the marking is the same!”