Crouch floored the gas pedal, shouting for his men to throw open the doors seconds after they’d already done so, then screaming to a halt alongside the battered bikers.
“Move!”
Alicia dived across the back seat. Wrench and Lex landed on top of her. Red Head struggled to climb over the rear seats. Before anyone could even think Crouch burned rubber again, upsetting their balance beyond control. Healey leaned out of the front window, loosing rounds out of Crouch’s rifle. If a head rose, Healey took it off.
The car screamed through the militia compound and out of the gates. Bullets, fired more in frustration than in any hope of finding a target, clanged off the bodywork and thumped into the dirt around them.
Crouch heaved a sigh of relief. “Make yourselves comfortable, people. We have a long ride and a hundred phone calls to make.”
Healey powered shut his window. “And an even greater treasure to find.”
TWENTY ONE
Kanab saw the departure of Wrench and Red Head, both carrying thick green wads and riotous new memories. Crouch barely took a breath between phone calls, contacting friends in authority, the World Heritage Committee and other organizations, following the framework of his protocol to the letter.
“The machine is booting up.” He broke his procession of calls one time. “Sadler and I established our procedure even before the members of this group were finalized. To be putting it into play so soon is frankly astounding.”
Alicia tuned him out as he took another call. The trip to Kanab had been incident free, but somewhat cramped. By the time the team returned to their hotel everyone was ready for a shower. Alicia locked her door and stripped off, letting the clothes pile at her feet. A whiff of her armpits made her frown.
“Major degunk in order,” she said to the empty room and padded across the bare floor. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length hallway mirror and stopped to look. It was a rare moment. The laws of her life required that she never stopped; in that way the past would always be behind her.
If she was forced to confront her current wants and needs, and then the next step; the results of that inner search, she feared, would lead to some kind of breakdown. She studied the lines of her body. Her muscle tone was clearly defined, her pale skin marked by old wounds and fresh bruises. Nothing sagging yet, but whereas time hadn’t yet taken its toll the job certainly had. Old healed scars were beginning to crisscross with new ones. Alicia hurt only when she stopped her forward momentum—in more ways than one.
The shower cooled and purified her, at least for now. Ten minutes later she was dressed in fresh clothes and entering Crouch’s room, not surprised by the look of excitement on his face.
Crouch held up a hand, covering the phone. “I have our benefactor, Rolland Sadler, on the line. He’s already said this find in itself will fund our team for years through various celebrity benefits and news exclusives. The Nahua will be prioritized . . .” He went back to his call.
Alicia drifted inside and perched on the arm of the sofa. Crouch finished up with a, “Yes, Rolland. We’re about to sit down and study the map.” Then he turned to her.
“Whoa,” he said. “Our boss is a real slave driver.”
“They’re all the same.” Alicia waggled her eyebrows.
Caitlyn entered the room and walked straight over to the table. “So where’s the map and the notes?”
Alicia and Crouch exchanged a glance and smiled. Motivation was high after the recent find. But in addition to the many positives it offered, Crouch knew they now faced a mélange of undesirable consequences, not the least of which was the return of Coker, his boss, and others like him. If Coker had lost touch with them in Utah the underground rumor network would certainly have put them back on the map by now.
With Healey and Russo fetching coffee and croissants, the map and notes were laid out for Caitlyn to study. Crouch knew them by heart, but he sat down alongside her.
Caitlyn re-familiarized herself with the poem:
“Through the great, endless river you must travel,
“Past canyons and rocks of waves,
“The Shield Arch shows the way,
“But heed our warnings to the mushroom rock,
“Then beyond the known territory of the braves,
“Look between Hummingbird and the ritual for your final guidance,
“And betray the sacrifices of your loyal warriors not.”
“The river has to be the Colorado,” Crouch told her. “I think if you were an Aztec warrior wandering the desert five hundred years ago, the Colorado would seem great and endless. Plus, it fits perfectly with the directions.”
“How close can the directions get us?”
Crouch sighed. “The smallest measurement this time I’m afraid, is in days. We can get to the general area, but we can’t pinpoint the particular stretch where they traveled it and crossed it.”
Healey interrupted as he handed out paper cups full of steaming coffee. “Wow,” Alicia said. “Even the smell of coffee makes me more alert.”
“Everything’s approximate,” Crouch went on. “From our guestimate of how many miles per day they traveled to how far they wandered off their straight line. We have to assume that the bulk of the finest treasure is there. The Wheel of Gold that Cortés valued at 3800 gold pesos and later Castillo valued at more than 10,000 pesos. ‘As big as a cartwheel,’ he said, and later known as the pieces of eight. And more—statues, coins, idols. Possibly even manuscripts, every one of incalculable worth. I’ve lost track of the number of people who’ve sought this treasure down the years but I’ll say this—the mountains keep their secrets well.”
Caitlyn traced the map with a nail as she searched Google Maps on the computer. “At the very least,” she said, “we need to relocate. Kanab’s compromised as a base now.”
Alicia looked over, following the line of her finger and noting where it ended up. “You’re kidding?”
Caitlyn turned a happy grin on them. “Nope. Haven’t you ever wanted to go there?”
“I’ve been to Vegas several times. Trust me, it never ends well.”
“Won’t it make us more . . . conspicuous?” Russo wondered.
“If anything,” Crouch acceded. “A big, busy city might be the better place to stay. Not only does it provide a certain anonymity, but we’re less likely to become open targets there. So long as we stick close to the main drag.”
“The Strip,” Caitlyn said happily. “They call it the Strip.”
Alicia tapped the girl on the shoulder. “Reality check. We ain’t heading out there to party, love. We’re on a mission.”
“I understand that,” Caitlyn said. “It’s the victory celebration that I’m looking forward to.”
TWENTY TWO
Sunset Station sat southeast of Las Vegas Boulevard, about ten miles from the staggering casinos that formed its heart. Busy, colorful, extensive and bristling with security they agreed it was the best place to stay. Nobody could predict what a South African crime lord might order his men to do, but ordering an attack on such a high risk target seemed unlikely.
Crouch enthusiastically set about determining their best starting point, using the old Aztec distance and directional system. Caitlyn called Healey over to work on the rest of the poem.
Alicia gazed out of the eighth floor window. “It’s all so flat.”
Russo drifted over. “Guess that’s why they call it a desert.”
“Funny guy. How’d ya like to—” Alicia started to retort and then saw a slight smile curling the big man’s lips. She understood. They’d fought together now, spilled blood together, saved lives and ended them. The bond they shared was no longer built on reputation, it was built on respect.
Alicia nodded in silent response. Caitlyn argued softly with Healey over the unknown meanings behind the poem’s mysterious descriptions. Wave rocks, shield arches and mushroom rocks might be anything, but at least two of those word pictures pointed to an Aztec narrative.
“Drakey!” she cried into the handset.
Matt Drake started to laugh. “Same old Alicia. Ay up, we’re missing you over here. Team’s just not the same without your . . . panache.”
“Shit, that’s a big word for a Yorkshire dimwit.”
“I have more. How about élan? Flamboyance? You still there?”
Alicia saw Crouch glance over. “The boss is giving me the evils for being on the phone at work. You know how it is in gainful employment.”
“Can’t say that I do. And Hayden says she’s fine by the way. Almost back to normal.”
“I was going to ask.” Alicia pouted.
“Listen, before you left we were starting to hear rumors, stories filtering through about a nasty new group. Some kind of secret organization called the Pythians.”
“I remember,” Alicia said. “We believed they were recruiting hundreds of mercenaries from all over the world and trying to put some very high-profile objectives in place.”
“Yeah, well, they appear to be the kind of secret organization that just doesn’t want to stay secret. Reports are popping up from Tokyo to Los Angeles—”
“Something about Pandora wasn’t it?” Alicia interrupted.
“We haven’t nailed it down yet. The whole thing’s just . . . very fluid. And that’s the problem, and why I chose to call you. Something this fluid, this fast, means it’s about to happen. The fuse is about to be lit, Alicia, and it’s gonna blow big. Every major government has raised their threat level without an ounce of direct information. War cabinets are being called. The airwave chatter is so high they’ve drafted in twice as many men to cope. I wanted to warn you.”
Alicia covered the handset and repeated the information to the room, more directly at Crouch. Their boss nodded.
“Ask him if Argento is involved.”
Alicia mentioned the Interpol agent’s name.
Drake affirmed. “Yes. The SPEAR team is heading this one up, but every country has their own way of doing things, of course. And every country has a team. And Interpol,” he sighed. “They have bloody dozens.”
“Stick with Argento,” Alicia said. “He’s good and if he recommends any team it’s safe to say they’ll be one of the best.”
“How about you guys?” Drake asked. “You ready to fly anywhere at a moment’s notice? This thing is global.”
“Sure. As soon as we find the treasure.”
“Good. Stay safe, Alicia.”
“You too.”
Alicia ended the call and spoke into the abrupt silence. “Seems there’s more going on in the world than our little treasure hunt. Who woulda known?”
“Drake,” Russo said wonderingly. “Isn’t that your old . . .”
Alicia turned a fiery gaze upon the man. “What?”
“Boss?”
“A loose term but partially true. We worked together in the same unit and then with SPEAR. Drake and I have more than a history together. We shared life and death for almost ten years.”
“I’ve heard of SPEAR,” Healey put in. “Good team.”
“Best in the world,” Crouch said. “And we’ll stay on standby for them. Drake wouldn’t call unless it was terribly urgent. All that tells me one thing—we’re on a brief timetable here, guys. We need to move fast before the real-life shit really hits the fan.” He took a deep breath and returned to his notes, a worried frown stretched across his features. His sense of responsibility would not allow him to seek out a five-hundred-year-old treasure whilst friends and soldiers struggled to protect the rest of the world.
“We need to find the rest of our Aztec gold. Now.”
TWENTY THREE
Highway 89 snaked through a rolling wilderness, broken in parts by rocky, often vertical buttes, flanked by mountains, lorded over by the sprawling blue skies. Their vehicle, a black 4x4, powered its way toward the Colorado Plateau, jammed full of bodies, equipment and gear as high-tech as underground satphones, trackers and laser field glasses to items as innocuous as suntan lotion and small inflatable rubber dinghies.
Predictably, Alicia was the first to point out the obvious. “Mr. Crouch sir,” she said in a small voice. “I’m putting in my protest right now. Either we trim the team or get bigger vehicles. I for one am not overly happy about three- or foursomes on the back seat every time we take a journey.”
Russo half turned from the front seat. “Isn’t that kind of your forte?”
Alicia gave a mock laugh. “Oh har-de-har. Look who’s lightened up since we found a few pieces of gold.”
“Point taken,” Crouch broke in. “I’m surprised you left it so long before complaining.”
Alicia shrugged. “Kinda enjoyed it at first.”
Healey unconsciously shifted his leg away from hers. “Ah, not much further now.”
Alicia grinned. “You prefer it if Caitlyn and I swopped places, Zack?”
With no answer forthcoming, Alicia turned her attention to the outside landscape. Mile marker twenty-five flashed by and Crouch quickly applied the brakes. At first Alicia thought their boss had lost his mind; no road was visible, but then the 4x4 jounced onto a dirt track, slewing slightly across the gravel.
“A dirt road now?” Alicia grumbled. “Really?”
“Only gonna get worse from here,” Crouch warned.
Jose Cruz, ensconced in the cramped but functional rear compartment, cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I hate to be a bother. But I’m quite sure we’re being followed.”
Crouch glanced at him through the rear-view. “Assuredly. Bastards have been on our tail ever since we left Vegas.”
“That long?” Russo whistled. “I only clocked them after Mesquite.”
Alicia stared straight ahead. “What are we dealing with?”
“Three, possibly four SUVs and a helicopter. Civilian, unless it’s been retrofitted. I’m guessing Coker.”
“Just a matter of time.” Alicia nodded. “So he picked us up in Vegas? Anyone with the right connections could do the same. You thinking his crime lord boss still wants us dead?”
“Not before we find the gold.” Crouch smiled grimly.
“Wait a minute.” Cruz’s face creased with confusion. “If we know Coker is following us why are we leading him straight to the gold?”
“You should pay attention,” Alicia said. “We’re following a five-hundred-year-old map, interpreting directions noted down by warriors, not cartographers. And,” she smiled, “we’re leading them out into a wilderness that we can control.”
Cruz shook his head with weary acceptance. “Soldiers,” he intoned.
Crouch bounced the 4x4 between bumps in the road, staying clear of the sand and scrub that marked the sides of the track. With the air conditioning cranked up high the car’s temperature still rose.
“Damn, if only it coulda been raining.” Alicia tapped a side window with a touch of British humor.
“This road could have been impassable if it had been raining,” Crouch said. “Don’t wish yourself into even more trouble.”
Alicia shrugged wistfully, about to comment further when Crouch pulled the vehicle into a makeshift parking lot, empty except for two cars—a white pickup and a sky-blue van. The only structure was a vault toilet; beyond that the flat scrubland stretched immeasurably.
Crouch turned off the car, stretching his back. “We ready?”
Alicia exited and walked around the back, slipping dark sunglasses over her eyes. The packs had all been assigned back in Vegas, filled with each person’s essentials dependent on their job. Her own mostly contained weapons and ammo; firepower she believed every girl should pack. Well, every girl with her kind of past, present and inevitable future. The days when life surprised her were long gone.
The group hefted their gear and moved out, deliberately paying no further attention to their followers, only the helicopter that could currently be seen in the far distanc
e—a mere speck in the sky. Crouch quietly estimated they had at least a half-hour head start.
“Let’s make it count.”
A sandy track led west out of the parking lot. Crouch drifted slowly, cross-referencing their position with several incomprehensible scribblings he’d made on his own map.
“It’s as good a point as any to make a start,” he said. “The Colorado is at our back. I estimated a line between the place where the Aztec warriors’ dateline and calendar put their passage across the Colorado to where the subsequent entries ended. According to their notes, the Aztecs followed a strict line in the dirt. Even if we take into account impassable features they’ll still have returned to that line, more or less. Yes, the search grid is wide but it’s what we have. All we need is to find a single reference point.”
“Canyons and rocks of waves.” Caitlyn secured her pack with a grunt. “That’s our next clue.”
“Looks like the right kinda country.” Russo eyed the distant mountains.
The track led downhill for a while, turning east as it entered a little wash. The stony slopes made the going heavy and increased the chance of mishap. When Alicia glanced back she no longer saw any sign of pursuit. With the way ahead becoming more demanding she bent her head to the task, reveling in the tough grind to help clear her mind. The future always lay before her.
Walk on.
Steep hiking came next, all the way to the top of a ridge. Healey broke out a large bottle of water and offered it around. A tiresome sun burned down. The ground was pure rock, mountain country, offering the questers no clues.
“Technically,” Caitlyn said, looking back the way they had come. “You could call that a canyon.”
“More a crack,” Cruz said. “A stitch. But I admire the wishful thinking.”
“Trail splits ahead.” Crouch pointed. “We’ll cut left, I think. The right-hand trail veers away drastically from the route I’ve mapped.”
Alicia myles 1 - Aztec Gold Page 14
