by Nick Cook
‘I just wanted to be certain before raising anyone’s expectations.’
‘In that case, any reports of seismic activity?’ Mike asked.
A wide smile filled Alice’s face. ‘Yes, a series of quakes hit Machu Picchu in the last twenty-four hours. However, it’s not that unusual for that region to experience quakes, and I haven’t had a chance to confirm they’re monowaves, but when combined with the other data…’
‘Holy crap,’ Jack said. ‘Machu Picchu is on the bucket list of every archaeologist I know – me included.’
‘As the rest of the team are going to be caught up investigating the UFO sightings, I can’t spare any of them for this mission, so I’m afraid the three of you will have to fly this solo. I don’t see it as a problem, since you’re gathering intelligence rather than getting involved. What do you say?’
‘I’m in,’ I replied as my gaze lingered on Jack.
He scratched his cheek. ‘An expenses-paid trip to an archaeological location I’ve always wanted to see. Now let me think…’ A wide grin filled his face. ‘Hell, yes. It’s a dream come true.’
‘If there are active quakes in the area, I’m in too,’ Mike said.
‘In that case we’ll leave on board an X101 at one a.m. tonight,’ Tom said. ‘I’ll accompany you on the journey.’
‘Jesus,’ Jack said. ‘Why such a godforsaken hour?’
‘Landing near Machu Picchu in the early hours is less likely to be noticed.’
‘I’d strongly recommend you all try to get an early night,’ Alice said.
But Mike shook his head. ‘I have a date with a beer at the Rock Garden with Jodie. It’s karaoke night and we fancy our chances of winning the duet trophy.’
‘Damned right.’ Jodie held up her hand and Mike high-fived her.
‘Before you head off partying,’ Jack said, ‘I’ll go and dig up what I can on Machu Picchu and put together a briefing for everyone. Let’s say in a couple of hours?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ I replied. ‘I’ll go and put my kit together and take a nice luxurious bath. Who knows when the next one will be – and I need it after the sweat I worked up on the firing range.’
Jack raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Oh, I thought that smell was the cheese on the pizza.’
‘Watch it, mister,’ I replied with a smile. Maybe he did have the hots for Alice, but he was still my mate, I decided.
‘I’d better prepare the equipment you’ll need for your mission,’ Tom said. His gaze narrowed on Mike. ‘Just please try not to overdo it tonight.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Mike said as he winked at Jodie.
Chapter Eight
We’d been flying under the cover of darkness for a good ten hours and all we’d seen on the cockpit screen was a view of snow billowing over Icelandic landscape – the screensaver that Tom had called up. I really would have to have words with him about his choice of in-flight movie before our next flight.
Mike, needless to say, had overdone it last night. There was a distinct lack of sympathy for him in the cabin, especially after he’d stunk the place out with the smell of vomit – which had thankfully stopped when he’d had nothing left to regurgitate. He and the others had sensibly taken the opportunity to grab some sleep, but I hadn’t been able to shut my mind down. Obviously the overarching goal of saving the world was driving this mission, but the growing sense I might be getting closer to seeing Lucy again was also a very big deal for me. Yes, she was only an AI facsimile of my real aunt, but she helped to fill in the hole in the centre of my being left from the death of the woman who’d unconditionally loved me.
A gentle alarm came from the speakers in the ceiling of the cockpit.
‘ETA ten minutes,’ Delphi’s voice announced.
Tom opened his eyes. ‘Delphi, please relay the live feed to the cockpit walls.’
At once the Icelandic scene was replaced by a mountainous landscape under a night sky, once again giving the distinct impression that our seats were flying through the air by themselves. The effect was heightened by the X101 itself being almost invisible, since its adaptive electronic camouflage on its external surfaces matched it to the surroundings.
And what a view it was. We were flying between the towering peaks of the Andes, snow visible on the tips of the highest peaks despite it being summer. Dark blues surrounded the mountaintops, and below was a carpet of trees, broken by the odd field around occasional isolated buildings. The lack of any street lights suggested a lack of people down below – hopefully meaning there weren’t many eyes to pick out the disguised craft flying overhead. To the east a glowing band of gold hinted at the coming sunrise.
My chest expanded as my eyes drank in the view.
Jack stirred in his sleep and his eyes cracked open before springing wide. ‘Holy crap, you could have warned me the external cameras were on. For a moment there I thought I was having a lucid dream of flying.’
I smiled at him. ‘Best not to wake Mike then. He’ll only freak out again and I for one could do without the fresh smell of sick added to the old in here.’
Jack sat up and shook his head. ‘He should be all right – I dosed him up with extra meds to settle his stomach.’
‘Maybe best not to take the chance,’ Tom added.
‘Good point.’
‘I’m going to deposit you as close as I can to Aguas Calientes,’ Tom went on. ‘It’s the town nearest to Machu Picchu, and where Cristina, our eyewitness, lives. I’ll choose an area of jungle where hopefully no one should spot us landing. From there you can make your way into town and the rest of the mission will be down to you.’
‘What do you mean, down to us? Surely you’ve put together a plan?’ I said.
‘No – you’re going to decide how you track down Cristina and find out what she knows before reporting back. View it as an extension of your training exercise. I must head back, as the situation in Illinois is rapidly developing. And I wouldn’t allow you to do this if I didn’t have absolute faith in each of you.’
‘I just hope that faith is justified,’ I said.
‘Oh, it is,’ Tom replied.
‘ETA five minutes,’ Delphi’s voice announced.
‘Right, we’d better wake Mike up as you all need to get ready,’ Tom said. He pulled a holdall from beneath his seat and took out three wigs and what appeared to be a make-up kit.
Jack peered at the dark ponytail wig and scowled. ‘Are these disguises really necessary, Tom? Nobody will know us here.’
‘This is just an insurance policy,’ Tom replied.
‘Against what?’ I asked.
‘In case the Overseers have picked up on the clues and decided to investigate too. Any field operatives working for them will have been given your profiles by now. Besides, you need to match your fake passports in case you’re asked for ID.’
‘You’ll really rock the ponytail look, Jack,’ I said, smirking.
‘Next time, I get to choose my own look, otherwise I’m going to give someone hell for it.’ He gave Tom a pointed glare.
After landing on the ledge of a mountain, we wheeled our Zero motorbikes down the cargo ramp from the X101. Tom had assured us these would be ideal for the mission, with their long-travel suspension, rugged tyres and large metal panniers for all our kit. We’d had a few minutes to test them through the meadows around Alice’s house the evening before we’d left, and the joyride had left me grinning from ear to ear.
From here, the town lights of Aguas Calientes were starting to disappear as the sunrise strengthened its hold across the golden-kissed landscape.
We put the bikes on to their kickstands, Mike and I doing our best not to laugh at the transformation of Jack the Viking to ponytailed biker.
‘You really should consider keeping that look after this mission,’ Mike said.
‘Look who’s talking, Mr Hipster with a stuck-on beard,’ Jack replied.
I shrugged. ‘Actually, I think it suits him.’
‘That’s onl
y because his eyes practically popped out of his head when you put that blonde wig on.’
I gave Jack my best Insta-pout. ‘What, you think it suits me?’
‘Maybe, but I prefer your usual dark-haired locks,’ Jack replied.
Note to self, Lauren: no dying your hair. I mentally shook my head at myself as Tom carried a silver briefcase down the rear ramp of the X101’s cargo hold.
He opened it and handed us each a rugged mobile. They looked as if they could take some serious punishment. ‘These are Sky Wires, which are basically satellite phones with a navigation app built in,’ Tom explained. ‘They also have a backup walkie-talkie function for the rare situations you don’t have line of sight to a satellite.’
‘So no posting selfies to Instagram up on Machu Picchu then?’ Mike asked as he scratched his beard. It seemed to be causing something of a rash.
Tom just raised his eyebrows at Mike by way of a reply. ‘You can use the Sky Wires to keep in contact with me and to arrange your eventual extraction when you’ve gathered all the intel you can.’
Jack gazed towards the distant town. ‘It looks like quite a long ride down to Aguas Calientes. Will these motorcycles have enough charge to get us there and back?’
‘Don’t worry – these bikes have been modified by our techs with solid-state batteries rather than the usual lithium ones. Thanks to that, they have an enhanced range of nearly three hundred miles – and you can always plug them in if you need more juice. The crash helmets aren’t exactly standard either; they’re reinforced with Kevlar, enough to stop a bullet. They each have a full heads-up display system that is linked to your Sky Wires. Not only can you have a map and other key information projected on the display, but there’s also a night-vision image-intensifier system, which can be activated from a menu. Please try not to lose them as each one is worth about a million dollars.’
‘Bloody hell, we’ll do our best,’ I said.
‘Also, talking of money, there’s thirty thousand US dollars and twenty gold sovereigns in each of your panniers.’
‘Not that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth, but why do we need all that cash?’ Mike asked.
‘For bribes and stuff, I’m guessing,’ Jack cut in. ‘Am I right, Tom?’
‘Absolutely. In my experience, greasing the palms in certain situations can make all the difference. The next thing I need to run through with you is your weapons. Each of you has been equipped with a sidearm, which you can keep hidden somewhere on your body. Mike, you’ll find a dart pistol in your panniers.’
He nodded. ‘You’ll get no complaints from me about that.’
‘And hopefully you won’t object to the C4 explosives with remote triggers also in there, just in case.’
Jack made a low throat-growling noise. ‘As long as you don’t go blowing up any archaeological artefacts.’
Mike held up his hands. ‘I wouldn’t dare, mate.’
‘So how about me?’ Jack asked.
‘You’ve got a good old Glock 19 – discreet and very reliable.’
‘Yep, happy with that.’
‘Just please tell me my LRS is in there,’ I said.
‘I wouldn’t dare not to, Lauren. Besides, it’s a nice compact weapon, favoured by Mossad agents for that reason.’
Jack held his thumb and forefinger a few millimetres apart. ‘You’re that close to that LRS, I’m surprised you haven’t started writing it poetry.’
‘Who says I haven’t?’
Jack snorted.
‘And I’ve also equipped you with your full lock-picking kit, Lauren.’
‘Cool. I just hope I remember all my training.’
‘It’s like riding a bike. I’ve also given each of you a low-profile shoulder holster for your weapons, invisible under a shirt.’
We sped along the dirt track, weaving through the jungle on our Zero motorbikes. The vehicles were eerily quiet against the wildlife chatter around us. With no clutch, the bikes were incredibly easy to ride – just a twist of the throttle and go. And the torque the electric motors gave the bikes was a real head rush.
‘How far until we get to Aguas Calientes?’ I asked.
‘We’re about ten miles away according to the map on the HUD display,’ Mike replied.
‘How do you pull that up?’
‘Ah yes, you were off in the jungle having a comfort break when Tom told us how to use our helmets’ functions,’ Jack replied.
‘Needs must. So what did I miss?’
‘They use an active retina-scanning system,’ Mike explained. ‘Blink three times in rapid succession to pull up the main display and menu system.’
I did as instructed and at once a constellation of readouts appeared, overlaying the view in my helmet’s visor. The battery-charge indicator was sitting at a reassuring ninety-eight per cent, no doubt thanks to the regenerative braking that actively charged our batteries. In the left corner of my visor was a scrolling map with three triangles, obviously representing our motorbikes’ positions.
‘Oh, that’s seriously cool,’ I said.
‘Yeah, there’s no shortage of cutting-edge tech now we’re sponsored by Sky Dreamer Corp,’ Jack said.
‘Maybe we should get some T-shirts made up with their logo.’
Jack chuckled. ‘Yeah, nice low profile and all.’
I noticed a readout below the HUD map.
Distance to destination: 5 miles.
‘Not that far now, guys.’
‘So what’s the plan when we arrive in town, Lauren?’ Mike said.
So there it was. Following on from Eden, I was the one in charge. Everything that happened would be on me. To say I already felt out of my depth would be an understatement, and we’d done nothing yet.
I marshalled my thoughts and replied, ‘I think we do what any tourist arriving in a place without a pre-booked a room does. We head to a bar and ask if anyone can recommend somewhere to stay.’
‘I’m liking our illustrious leader’s thinking here,’ Mike said.
‘Me too,’ Jack agreed.
‘Calm down, you two. This is about work, not getting hammered for breakfast. We can grab the opportunity to pick the brains of the locals and find out if anyone knows where we can find this Cristina woman.’
The track started to sweep to the right and ahead joined a tarmac road busy with traffic. A quick glance at my HUD map confirmed this would take us directly into Aguas Calientes on one of the few roads.
‘OK, remember we’re tourists here, guys, not weapon-packing spies,’ I said. ‘So no flash moves on your Zeros to draw attention to us.’
‘Oh, you’re no fun,’ Mike said.
‘Absolutely not at a time like this. Keeping a low profile is our motto from here on out.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Jack said.
I glanced in my rear-view mirror to see him snapping me a salute.
Idiot. But I smiled inside the privacy of my crash helmet.
A few moments later we’d merged into the steady stream of tour buses and local traffic, keeping religiously to the speed limit like good law-abiding tourists. But how long until our new motto would be ripped to shreds? Something deep down told me it would – it was just a matter of time.
Chapter Nine
The bar was packed out with a group of tourists, their piles of rucksacks and holdalls crowding the floor. According to the bartender, their trip to Machu Picchu had been cancelled – the site was currently closed to the public and had been all week since the quakes had started hitting. But that hadn’t stopped the tour groups coming to Aguas Calientes as tickets for Machu Picchu had to be bought months in advance. The tourists wandered around gloomily, while the bar owner seemed much happier – business was brisk as the tourists sought different ways to fill their time and blow some cash.
Despite it only being ten a.m., the beer was in full flow. In an attempt to ingratiate ourselves, we’d already bought everyone in the bar several rounds of drinks and things had grown distinctly lively. A group
of Germans had even organised an impromptu singalong that Mike had happily thrown himself into. But it was way too early in the morning for that sort of behaviour in my book.
I sat at the bar along from a young local guy with his head down in a paper. I sipped my pisco sour that one of the Germans had insisted I tried – it was either that or being forced to dance with him to an ancient pop track. Pleasantly and much to my surprise, the Peruvian cocktail wasn’t a million miles away from a margarita. I’d been distinctly suspicious of the whisked eggs whites until I’d tasted it. Of course, Jack and Mike were being very stoic about having to drink beer for breakfast too. Needs must, Jack had said.
But as I drank, I was painfully aware we were anything but tourists out for a good time. I’d already tried picking the brains of the bartender about Cristina, but despite the considerable custom I’d been throwing his way the guy was being uncommunicative. Meanwhile, Jack and Mike were embedded with the tour group to see if any of them knew anything about her. I wasn’t sure how they were getting on, but the laughter seemed to be getting louder by the minute from their corner of the bar.
I pushed my pisco sour away and gestured to the barman. ‘Could I grab a coffee instead?’
‘Sure.’ He turned his back to me to face an impressive-looking coffee machine.
Time to try again. ‘Look, I’m not a journalist or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about. I would just really love to meet Cristina. Maybe you know someone who could get a message to her?’
The bartender shook his head without even bothering to turn round. ‘As I keep telling you, I have no idea who this Cristina is.’ His coffee machine started gurgling and he headed along the bar to a woman waving several dollar bills at him.
The young guy in the seat next to me angled my way. ‘Look, you have to understand you’re not the first tourist who’s tried to track Cristina down.’
I spun towards him. ‘You sound as if you know who she is?’
‘She’s my cousin,’ he said bluntly, and extended his hand. ‘My name is Ricardo. I’m one of the tour guides here, just like Cristina.’
