Treasure Hunters--The Plunder Down Under
Page 8
“Children?” shouted a totally winded Uncle Richie, who was leaning on Storm so he wouldn’t collapse. “We need to pull together! Remember, teamwork makes the dream work! Alone we do so little, together we can do so much! Talent wins games but teamwork wins championships!”
He might’ve shouted a few more motivational poster slogans but his voice was soon drowned out by the roar of the waterfall.
“I’ll go for one of the statues,” I told Beck as spray started pattering our faces. “You go for the opals.”
“How come you get the bigger prize?” said Beck.
“Fine. You take the statue. I’ll go for the opals.”
Beck gave me a look. “Oh. Now you want the opals? Forget it! They’re mine.”
“Whatever.”
We charged through the curtain of cascading water and skidded to a slippery stop on water-soaked stones.
Tommy was already inside the cave, battling off Banjo and Croc in an awesome martial arts duel. We’re talking palm-heel strikes, front elbow blows, and forearm blocks. Feet and fists were flying—until Banjo blocked one of Tommy’s roundhouse kicks with a solid gold statue. The clunk made Tommy’s whole body vibrate and shimmy before he toppled to the ground.
With Tommy out of the picture, Banjo hugged his statue and came running for the mouth of the cave. Croc was right behind him, carrying a bouncing treasure chest dripping with jewels. They were both wearing bulky backpacks.
“Let’s hop off, mates!” shouted Charlotte Badger. She was twenty yards deep in the cavern, toting a second jewel-encrusted statue under one arm and charging straight at Beck and me. I could see two pouches swaying on her belt. The opals!
“You go for the statue,” I told Beck, “I’ll go for the opals!”
“No,” said Beck, “we already said that I’d do the opals.”
“When did we say that?”
“Ten seconds ago!”
“Change of plans!”
“Too late.”
Yes, Beck and I were standing there, fists planted on our hips, screaming at each other when maybe we should’ve been paying more attention to Charlotte Badger, Banjo, and Croc.
The three pirates barreled right over us, whacking us sideways with a pair of ka-thunking statue swings.
They had Bloody Sword Bonito’s treasure and the two stolen opals and were racing straight for the backside of the waterfall—taking everything we wanted with them!
CHAPTER 33
The pirates looked like they were going to leap right through the waterfall.
“We have to stop them!” I shouted.
“We can’t,” said Beck. “We’re sitting on our butts in a puddle.”
Just then, I heard the shrillest pair of shrieks that’s ever pierced my eardrums.
It was a war cry shouted by Terry and Tabitha, the two Tasmanian devils.
“Giirr ngiyani gayaa mari!!!” they chanted as they came swinging through the waterfall, clinging on to ropey tree roots. “Dhayn, mari, gayaabali ngiyani.”
(Later we found out what they were screaming as they swung into battle: “We are proud Aboriginal people; we will make the people, the Aboriginal people, proud!”)
Terry stuck out his feet and aimed the toes of his shoes straight at Charlotte Badger’s face. She ducked, and didn’t see Tabitha swinging low to snatch a pouch off her belt.
When they reached the peak of their swing, the twins let go of their woodsy vines, nailed a very Olympics-style landing on the slippery rocks, spun around, and were all set to go chasing after the trio of pirates.
But it was too late.
Charlotte Badger, Banjo, and Croc had already leaped through the roaring wall of foamy water.
“What’s going on, dudes?” asked Tommy, as he came limping over to join us.
“We snagged one of the opal bags,” said Tabitha, holding up the velvet pouch she’d ripped off Charlotte Badger’s belt.
“But the blooming pikers got away!” added Terry.
“They jumped!” I said. “Off the cliff!”
Terry and his twin sister grabbed hold of a stalagmite rising up from the floor of the cave and stuck their heads through the waterfall. So Beck and I grabbed hold of another slick column and did the same. I guess it’s a twins-imitating-twins thing.
We could see Charlotte Badger and her team making a spectacular exit, cradling their treasures tight to their chests. Those backpacks they were all wearing? Those were for the parasails they’d brought along to guarantee a soft landing to their daring waterfall-leap escape. The three pirates were gently drifting down to an inflatable raft with an outboard motor that was just sitting there, waiting for them in Port Phillip Bay.
Storm and Uncle Richie came stomping through the waterfall.
“You let them get away?” said Uncle Richie, sounding way more upset than usual.
“Whoa,” said Tommy. “Ease up a little, Uncle Richie. We didn’t exactly let them do anything.”
“They just did it?” said Storm.
“Chya,” said Tommy, rubbing his shoulder. “Plus, they kept bonking us with solid gold statues. Those things are worse than aluminum baseball bats.”
“We stole this from the lady with dreadlocks,” said Tabitha, proudly holding up the pouch she’d torn off Charlotte Badger’s belt.
“We looked inside,” said Terry. “It’s a very fiery black opal. Probably worth a lot of money, right?”
Uncle Richie nodded. “That it is. But, most important, it will help us secure the release of Thomas and Sue Kidd.”
“Those are our parents,” I said, just in case the Tasmanian twins hadn’t been paying attention.
“We know,” said Terry with an eye roll.
“Mothers and fathers are more valuable than gold and jewels,” added Tabitha.
“Well said, my young friends,” remarked Uncle Richie, kind of giving Tommy, Beck, and me the stink eye. “At least you two remained focused on our primary goal and objective.”
“Can we keep this?” asked Tabitha, pulling the translucent stone out of its velvet bag and rolling it around so the sunlight slicing through the waterfall could catch its dazzling opalescence.
“Of course you can,” said Uncle Richie. “At least until we retrieve the second opal we need to set your parents free.”
“And now that Charlotte Badger has taken off for who knows where,” said Storm, “where are we going to find the second opal?”
Uncle Richie sighed. “I have no earthly idea.”
CHAPTER 34
“We’re sorry, Uncle Richie,” I said after we’d all exited the cave and stood on a precipice, the better to watch the bad guys putter away in their rubber escape raft.
“Bick won’t do anything that stupid again,” said Beck.
“It wasn’t just me!”
“True,” said Beck. “But it was mostly you.”
“Definitely wasn’t me,” said Tommy. “I just engaged the villains in a serious exhibition of martial arts skills.”
“I had a much better plan,” said Storm.
“What was it?” I asked.
“Never mind. It won’t work now. Charlotte Badger and the other opal we need are gone.”
I slumped my shoulders. “Look, you guys, I’m sorry. I got carried away. It happens whenever I see the glint of jewel-encrusted gold.”
“You need to starve your distractions and feed your focus,” said Terry.
“You can’t track your target if you are easily led astray by shiny objects,” added Tabitha.
All of a sudden, the two Tasmanian terrors sounded like the most reasonable members of our expedition. I turned to Uncle Richie.
“I’m sorry. It was my fault. What can I do to make it right?”
Uncle Richie clapped his hand firmly on my shoulder and smiled again. “Your best teacher is your last mistake. But, Bick?”
“Yes sir?”
“Next time, let’s all work together as a team. It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t care
who gets the credit.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Storm raised her hand.
“Yes, Storm?” said Uncle Richie.
“As much as I am enjoying this pep talk and seeing Bick squirm, what, exactly, do you suggest we do now?”
Uncle Richie squinted and watched the rubber raft round a bend in the bay and disappear behind a hazy hill on the horizon.
“I’m not sure,” said Uncle Richie.
“We should definitely call in that helicopter you and Timbo Tyler set up,” said Tommy, his teeth chattering. “They could at least take us someplace where we could change into some dry clothes.”
It’s true. We were all soaked to the skin. Jumping in and out of a waterfall will do that to you.
“Maybe Charlotte Badger will go back to her vehicle,” said Beck. “The one we found parked on the road. If so, we could track her again.”
Tommy shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen, Beck. She knows we tailed her. She’s probably figured out how we did it, too.”
“She’s not going to be happy with your Uncle Timbo,” Storm told Terry and Tabitha. “If she puts two and two together, she’ll realize he was the one who planted the GPS tracker on her vehicle.”
“We need to head back to Camp Billabong!” said Terry. “Immediately! We need to protect Uncle Timbo!”
CHAPTER 35
“Right you are,” Uncle Richie told the Tasmanian twins. “We’ll have the chopper ferry us back. With any luck, we’ll beat Ms. Badger and her cronies to the camp. I don’t suspect they have a helicopter lined up. They’ll, most likely, steal some other vehicle to make their getaway.”
“Let’s go!” said Tabitha, sounding impatient.
“We need to hurry!” added Terry.
Uncle Richie made the call on his secure satellite phone.
Fifteen minutes later we heard the thumping rotors of a whirlybird, gently descending on a flat patch of weeds that Tabitha and Terry had discovered just to the west of the waterfall. We all jammed into the back.
Once we were in the air, Uncle Richie called Mr. Tyler and told him to beware. His elbow was in my rib cage the whole call.
“We suspect Charlotte Badger may soon be paying you a visit. And she won’t be in a good mood.”
On the speakerphone, we heard Mr. Tyler tell Uncle Richie not to worry. “I used to be a bosker, top-shelf spy, working with Thomas and Susan Kidd and their mates at the CIA, remember? I can handle myself. But thanks for the heads-up, mate. I’ll take certain… precautions.”
“Be careful, Uncle Timbo!” shouted Tabitha and Terry.
“No worries, you two. I will.”
When Uncle Richie ended that call, Tommy had a brainstorm.
“I need to borrow your phone, Uncle Richie.”
“Whom do you wish to call?”
“Detective Superintendent Jonathan Michael Ruggiere at the Australian Federal Police. He has the opal Charlotte Badger planted on The Lost and now we can bring him the one that was swinging off her belt. That should be proof enough that Mom and Dad aren’t crooks. Charlotte Badger is the one Ruggiere should lock up. And, once he does that, he should throw away the key.”
“Bully, Thomas! Make the call.”
Uncle Richie passed the phone to me, which I handed to Storm, who handed it to Beck, who handed it to Terry, who tossed it to Tommy.
He made the call and made his case. He forgot to punch the speakerphone button so we only heard one side of the conversation.
“She’s connected to two of the stones in the Lightning Ridge Opals case,” he said into the phone, shouting to be heard over the din and rattle of the helicopter. “Isn’t that proof enough, sir? She’s your man. I mean your woman. You know, the person you should toss in jail.”
And then Tommy’s face went blank as Detective Superintendent Ruggiere said something to him.
“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
Tommy switched off the phone and handed it back to Uncle Richie.
“So?” I asked. “What’d he tell you?”
“That a deal’s a deal. He wants all three opals. Then he reminded me of something.”
“What?”
“We only have four and a half more days.”
Beck looked at me. I looked at her. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing: We shouldn’t’ve wasted all that time chasing after a glittering gold statue.
The clock was ticking.
CHAPTER 36
The first thing we noticed when our overstuffed helicopter swooped in for a landing at Camp Billabong?
The airplane we’d rented back in Sydney was no longer on the landing strip where we’d parked it.
“Um, did we take out any insurance when we rented that thing?” Tommy wondered aloud. “I think somebody might’ve stolen our ride.”
“Charlotte Badger!” said Storm, pointing to a bright-yellow Ferrari parked close to the camp’s lodge building. Several kangaroos were hanging out, admiring it. “She also stole a 488 GTB. It can go from zero to one hundred kilometers per hour in three point three seconds. She beat us back to Camp Billabong!”
“Strewth,” said the chopper pilot. “She was flying faster than we were, and that’s no porky.”
“Pig?” I said.
Storm shook her head. “Lie. That’s no porky means that’s no lie.”
“Why?” asked Beck.
And all Storm could do was shrug.
Terry and Tabitha nearly ripped the helicopter doors off their hinges the instant the skids touched ground.
“Those pirates could’ve hurt Uncle Timbo!” shouted Terry.
“They might still be here!” screamed Tabitha. “Their car sure is!”
The two of them barreled out of the whirlybird before the blades had even stopped spinning. They raced across the open yard and tore up the front steps of the building.
“Come on, you guys,” said Tommy. “We need to help those two and make sure Timbo Tyler is okay!”
We charged across the open field, sending the herd of ’roos scattering.
When the five of us entered the lodge, we saw Timbo Tyler dusting himself off. His niece and nephew were with him, laughing.
“You really hid up in the ceiling?” asked Terry.
“Too right,” said Timbo. He saw us standing breathlessly in the foyer. “Ah, welcome back, Kidd Family Treasure Hunters. I hear you took down Ms. Badger and nabbed yourselves a precious opal.”
“Not us,” I said. “It was all Terry and Tabitha. They grabbed the pouch right off the pirate lady’s belt. You should’ve seen them swing into action.”
Timbo turned to the twins. “Ripper! You’re a pair of fair dinkum heroes. I had no idea you two were the ones who snatched and grabbed the pirate lady’s opals.”
“Um, didn’t they, like, tell you?” asked Tommy.
“Nope. They were too busy making sure I was safe.”
“So, how’d you know about the opal?” I asked.
“I heard Charlotte Badger yabbering to her mates about it when they came screaming up to my front door in that Ferrari out there to give me some guff for sending you lot after her. Unfortunately for Ms. Badger, your Uncle Richie had tipped me off so I knew she might be coming.”
“Bully!” said Uncle Richie. “Happy to be of assistance, Timbo.”
Mr. Tyler gestured toward the grid of foamy pop-up panels over our heads. “Good thing I have a snug and cozy little hiding spot up in the ceiling. When you work in the spy business, you learn to make sure you always have a hidey-hole close by. I was happy as a possum up a gum tree. Even have a small fridge and TV up yonder.”
“And you overheard Ms. Badger’s conversation with Banjo and Croc?” asked Uncle Richie.
“That I did. Stuck my ear to the floor, which, of course, was their ceiling. Seems they’re packing up and heading off for Alice Springs.”
“Did they say why?”
“That they did, mate. They’re heading into the Outback to search for Lasseter’s Go
ld.”
CHAPTER 37
“Lasseter’s Gold!” gushed Storm. “A reef of solid gold that Lewis Harold Bell Lasseter claimed to have discovered west of Alice Springs, on the edge of the MacDonnell ranges. But before he could haul out all that gold, the elements turned against him and he got into serious trouble. Wandering through the desert, he had to be rescued by a passing Afghan camel driver who carried him to safety. He went back twice in the next three years, trying to relocate his golden reef, but he couldn’t. On the third expedition, he died. A slow and miserable death in the desert.”
“He went back to find it several times,” Storm continued. “Never could. Neither could anyone else. It remains the greatest lost treasure in all of Australia.”
“Too right,” said Timbo Tyler. “And Charlotte Badger is dead set on digging it up. Seems the ‘sponsor’ of her Lasseter expedition made her prove their treasure-hunting bona fides by sending them after Bloody Sword Bonito’s loot first. Satisfied that Ms. Badger and her crew know what they’re doing, they’re moving on to the main event. That’s why they stole your airplane, Richie, and several of my navigation charts.”
“Who’s their sponsor?” asked Uncle Richie.
“They didn’t say. But I reckon the bloke is well in and wealthy.”
“Do you get to keep the Ferrari?” asked Terry.
That made his Uncle Timbo smile. “No, Terry. It’s a stolen vehicle. But, strewth, I reckon I’ll have a grand old time driving it back to its rightful owner. Probably be laughing like a kookaburra the whole way!”
“We need to go to Alice Springs, too!” I blurted. “We need to chase after Charlotte Badger and grab that third opal!”
Beck jumped in: “We need it to set Mom and Dad free.”
“Bick and Beck are correct,” said Uncle Richie. “We need to plot a course for Alice Springs.”