Shrouded in Secrets

by Kim McMahill

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  October 3, 12:00 P.M.

  Cusco, Peru

  ZARA WAS A BEAUTIFUL, brilliant, evil genius, and she had proven the latter fact to Cash and everyone involved repeatedly over the past weeks. He hated to admit she’d been one step ahead of him throughout this whole crystal relic fiasco, or that she apparently knew he had arrived in Cusco, and Diego recuperated in a hospital in Buenos Aires. They were now aware of her general location, but only because she chose to divulge the information. He recited the message over and over in his head.

  Sorry to hear about the unfortunate mishap. I’m anxious to meet for lunch at our favorite tavern tomorrow. It’s your turn to buy, so bring Cash, they don’t take credit cards. Make sure to get a table for two. Love, Zara.

  The cocky tone of the note scalded him, but it also brought back a flood of memories. The last time he visited Cusco was on his and Zara’s first assignment together. He remembered sitting in this tavern, staring into her intoxicating green eyes. Young, idealistic, and enchanted with his exotic new partner, she exuded danger and excitement and an inexplicable allure he was helpless to resist. He’d been hooked from the moment they met and never hesitated when he broke the rule against getting involved with one’s partner. He had mistakenly thought they shared a great deal in common with the way they approached their jobs and life, and she had clearly been as attracted to him as he was to her, making the relationship inevitable.

  “Thinking of the first time I seduced you?”

  Cash looked up, trying to hide the emotions flooding through him. He never expected to see her again, and even after learning she was still alive, he convinced himself the past was the past, and he felt only loathing. She must be brought to justice, just like any other criminal, but with Zara nothing ever happened without drama and risk.

  For years he carried around the guilt for letting her die without a chance to defend herself. At one time, he truly believed that he loved her. Now, when he thought about the massacred villagers, Ian, and Olivia, he wondered how he could have been so naïve and wished she had stayed dead. This time, her death wouldn’t be an accident. Taking her into custody alive to stand trial wasn’t an option. Like a jaguar, to cage her would be to kill her spirit. She would force him to finish the job.

  “You still drink chicha when you’re in Peru?” Cash asked as he motioned for the waiter.

  Zara nodded and smiled. “She’s quite lovely and gentle, not your usual type. A shame Mustafa bruised her satin cheek. The nasty lump she got on her head as she hit the floor must hurt a lot.”

  Cash ignored her comment, though knowing Olivia had been harmed sent a surge of rage through him, making him contemplate violence as he had never experienced before. When he finally came face-to-face with Mustafa, he vowed to make the man sorry to be alive.

  The waiter set two tall glasses of chicha, a traditional Peruvian drink made from fermented corn, on the table. Cash lifted his glass to his lips and glared at Zara, still unable to believe she was alive. She looked the same as he remembered, and sitting across the table from her felt like he had stepped back in time.

  “What do you want?”

  “You never were big on foreplay, but I’m truly hurt that you don’t want to know how I’ve been since you left me for dead.”

  Cash wanted nothing more than to end it now, but if he made a move, one of Zara’s men would carry out her instruction to kill or torture Olivia. Until Zara got whatever she sought, Olivia would be kept alive; though he harbored no illusions she was receiving decent treatment.

  “What do you want?” Cash demanded again.

  Zara sipped her chicha, the smile fading from her lips. “Very well, if you have no desire to reminisce about old times, I guess I’ll get straight to the point. I hold all but two of the thirteen legendary crystals. I think your little blonde friend found one in Argentina, and if you don’t already possess the last, you have a good idea where the object is located.”

  Cash took a slow deliberate drink and stared at Zara, but said nothing.

  “You’re a softy for civilians, especially those as pretty as Olivia. So if you want to save her from an agonizing death, you will hand over the relics.”

  “I don’t have them.”

  “But you can get them. You think one is in Cusco, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Cash shrugged and drained his glass.

  “I’m feeling generous. You’ve got twelve hours to find what you came to Cusco for. Meet me back here at midnight, alone, and hand over the crystals, or I give Olivia to Heinrich to do with as he pleases. You met Heinrich in Arizona, I believe. He is quite smitten with the lovely Olivia.”

  Cash stood abruptly to leave. He couldn’t listen to any more of Zara’s threats against Olivia without doing something foolish.

  Zara followed, grabbing his arm, forcing him to turn around. He flinched, unsure if from the pain of his many injuries, or from her familiar touch, so he pushed the reaction out of his mind. He had no doubt Zara meant every word and with her there was no room to negotiate. Everything always occurred her way, or no way at all.

  “Do we understand each other?” She smiled as she poked Cash’s sore ribs.

  “I guess the next round is on you,” Cash said as pulled from her grasp and strode out of the tavern, feeling the burn of Zara’s eyes on his back.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  October 3, 1:00 P.M.

  Cusco, Peru

  “SO MUCH FOR plan A,” Cash said as he gathered his team in the common room of the safe house. “Zara suspects Marjorie retrieved one of the crystals in Argentina and that we know where the last is located. She wants both relics handed over by midnight, or Olivia pays the price.”

  Cash watched as Diane shot to her feet, turned her back to the group, and strode toward the window. She ran her fingers through her hair and paced, her emotions hidden from view.

  “What’d you tell her?” Diane asked as she stopped and turned to face Cash.

  “I’d see her at midnight.”

  “In case you forgot, we don’t have the last crystal, nor are we sure where to find the cursed thing.”

  “Then we better figure it out quickly. Marjorie?”

  Marjorie shrunk down in her chair as all eyes focused on her, issuing a silent plea for her to work some kind of relic-discovery magic. She had been certain the final head was in Cusco, but now, with so much on the line and everyone counting on her, her confidence waned. When she studied Cash, rage emanated from him, but the intensity of Diane’s fear radiated even stronger vibes. Being an only child, she didn’t understand the sibling bond, a somewhat envying connection, but refused to let that link be broken. Marjorie buried her doubtsthey needed something to grasp onto. They couldn’t lose hope, because at the moment, that was about all they had.

  “Well, so far the relics located in their original hiding places were discovered in underground manmade chambers, like in Bimini and Arizona. The ones which were re-hidden in relatively modern times, such as the one I found and the Asháninka relic, were stashed in dark places for obvious reasons. So I suggest we split up into two teams to cover more ground and start below the Church of Santo Domingo in the old foundation of the Temple of the Sun. Since we’ve uncovered no mention in any historical records referencing an artifact, I’m guessing the Spaniards did not find the object when they constructed the church over the original ancient Incan Temple.”

  “It’s a place to start. Pete and Diane work together, and Marjorie will partner with me,” Cash stated. “Stay alert, since I doubt Zara plans to sit around the pool sipping margaritas at the hotel until our scheduled meeting. She and her people will try to track us and snatch the crystal the moment we locate it, assuming we’re successful. She wants to kill me, probably all of us for that matter, and she won’t want to do the deed in a public tavern.”

  “Got any ammunition for this?” Marjorie asked as she pulled her 9mm out from underneath her sweatshirt. “There are only two ro
unds left.”

  The responsible “by the book” thing to do as a federal officer would be to take the gun from the civilian and put her on the next plane to London, but instead, Cash rummaged through his duffle until he found a full box of ammunition and tossed the bullets to her. According to the report on Ahmed, Cash concluded that Marjorie needed no additional instruction on the weapon’s features.

  Within ten minutes, they left the safe house and worked their way toward the church along a circuitous route to shake anyone who picked up their trail. Marjorie left off her disguise, though her black-dyed hair blended in a bit better than Pete and Cash. The men’s height made it impossible to look local, so they played up the tourist routine.

  Large chaotic groups of visitors entered the Church of Santo Domingo, making it easy for the team to get inside without drawing attention. Cash scanned the crowds for Zara, Heinrich, and Marabout. He spotted none of the three and speculated on how many others were working with Zara whom he wouldn’t recognize. He also couldn’t help wondering whether or not the eleven relics already in her possession were in Peru. Retrieving the stolen goods was paramount, but at the moment, his focus remained solely on getting Olivia back, even if that meant handing over the last two heads to Zara.

  As quickly as possible they located a door leading below ground. They picked the simple lock intended to keep tourists from exploring the lower level and descended into the immense underbelly of the structure.

  Starting in opposite corners of the foundation, they established a grid and began the search. For hours they scoured the dank, dark chambers, yet came up with nothing. The church was now closed to visitors for the day, and no other people roamed the massive building, as far as Cash could tell, but with the thick stones deadening all sounds from above it was impossible to be certain.

  “Any luck?” Pete asked as he and Diane approached Cash and Marjorie.

  “None. The most logical assumption is the artifact must be in the original temple, and this foundation is all that remains, so there aren’t that many places to look. If the relic isn’t here, I’m afraid I haven’t a clue where to search next,” Marjorie responded, glancing at Diane with sympathy.

  “We’ve only got about five hours before I meet up with Zara. We don’t have time to start over. Think, Marjorie. You make a living hunting for antiquities lost for hundreds and thousands of years that no one else has been able to find. You’re our only shot.”

  Marjorie hated the pressure. Usually funding dictated the pace of a dig, not the need to save a life. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “The only other possibility I can come up with is a possible hidden chamber or compartment beneath the foundation. Look for a loose block.”

  “Split up and stomp on, kick, and push on each stone in the floor and footers,” Cash ordered as he walked to the far corner and began testing each block.

  Another two hours passed, and they still hadn’t touched every stone in the massive foundation. Cash recognized their time was nearly gone. He glanced around for Diane and noticed her crouched down, slamming her fist into each footer block. Cash flinched at the thud of her fist making contact. The punches landing on the stone had to hurt her knuckles, and he suspected she was trying to punish herself for putting Olivia in such a dangerous position. Lord knew that’s what he wanted to do to himself, but he also needed to keep a clear head if he had any hope of seeing her again.

  “Hey, you probably don’t need to apply so much pressure,” Cash said as he walked up behind her.

  “I can’t afford to overlook anything. There’s no time to go back over every block a second time,” she replied as she balled-up a fist and slammed it into another.

  Cash grabbed her wrists and pulled her to her feet. He examined her knuckles, raw and bleeding. He wiped the blood off with his handkerchief and dropped her hands.

  “Take the floor and save those fists for Zara’s face. I’ll finish up the footer.”

  Diane nodded and started stomping on the flat stones, while Cash kicked the footers with the toe of his boot. He wished he had a better plan, because this route seemed hopeless.

  “Over here,” Marjorie called.

  “Did you find it?” Cash asked.

  “I’m not sure yet. Help me move these loose blocks.”

  Cash knelt down and examined the four stones Marjorie had identified. Each measured about twelve inches by twenty-four inches, and the small gap between them had filled with fine dust over the decades.

  “Give me some light.” Marjorie pushed her shawl aside and removed a long machete tied to her waist. She wedged the blade in between two of the stones and wiggled the handle back and forth, oblivious to the stares as she began to widen the gap. “What?” she asked, finally noticing all eyes focused on the machete clutched in her hand.

  “You continue to surprise me,” Cash stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Most of the locals carry some sort of large knife for cutting firewood, grass, garden weeds, you name it. Just trying to keep my disguise accurate,” she replied with a smile.

  As Marjorie eased one of the blocks up, Cash and Pete were able to get a good enough grip to lift it out. The stone was only about four inches thick, and once removed, the other three came up easily.

  Cash pierced the blackness of the hole with his light and removed the supports keeping the blocks in place.

  “Steep narrow steps lead down into the darkness.” He wedged his body into the small opening, his head soon disappearing from sight.

  Marjorie scrambled in behind him, anxious to explore where the tunnel led. “By the appearance of the stones the cavern hasn’t been accessed in hundreds of years, and the entrance is so well camouflaged. I’m not surprised no one else has made the discovery.”

  “Well?” Diane asked, while looking at Pete.

  “I’m even less thrilled about tight dark places than I used to be after my harrowing experience in Bimini, but Marjorie is carrying a knife nearly the length of a baseball bat, and Cash is a good shot and is carrying most of the extra ammo, so I guess I’d rather stick with them than stay here alone.”

  Diane nodded agreement and slipped into the hole. Marjorie’s light was fading by the time she slithered into place. The narrow steps looked more like toe holds than stairs and there was nothing to hold onto. Diane braced her palms on both sides of the shaft and inched her way toward the fading light, hoping the uncoordinated scientist above wouldn’t come crashing down on her head.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  October 3, 6:00 P.M.

  Warehouse, Cusco Peru

  OLIVIA’S WRISTS BURNED, her shoulders ached, and her tongue stuck firm to the inside of her cheek. When she woke up on the private jet, she found her hands bound uncomfortably behind her back, and a gag cutting into the corners of her mouth. She had no idea where she was and the man, who she now knew was Mustafa, Sultan of Rum, avoided her gaze, clearly having no intention of easing her discomfort or fears during the long flight.

  A mix of relief and terror boiled in her gut as the jet touched down. Mustafa yanked on her arm, pulling her out of her seat, and roughly ushered her out onto a private airstrip and into a waiting van. By the look of the people, various signs, and scenery passing by on the drive through the city, Olivia deduced she was in South America. The fact that Cash and Diane were in Peru led her to assume Zara had brought her there as well, to use as leverage against them.

  Once inside a cool, dark warehouse, Olivia found herself face-to-face with a beautifully striking woman. She said nothing, but Olivia had no doubt this exotic creature was Zara, the person behind all the death and destruction. The woman who had once held Cash’s heart. The knowledge that Zara orchestrated the ruthless killing of so many innocent people sickened Olivia, and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit that she had been Cash’s lover and, in the process, had destroyed his ability to let anyone else into his life.

  Mustafa pushed Olivia into a chair before taking a seat in front of a computer. She
watched as he nodded to Zara, then began pecking at its keyboard. Her gaze left Mustafa and slowly roamed upward until she locked on the woman’s emotionless eyes.

  Zara grabbed a metal folding chair as she walked toward Olivia, never breaking the connection of their glares. With a flick of the wrist, she opened the chair and placed it, back forward, a few feet in front of Olivia. Zara straddled the chair and stared at Olivia with a crooked smile on her full red lips. Olivia held firm, refusing to blink.

  “So, are you ready to tell us where the twelfth and thirteenth crystals are?” Zara asked.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t have foolishly corresponded with your colleague.”

  “I suppose that’s true, and it no longer matters. Cash will find the relics and trade the objects for your life. He’s always been a sucker for attractive women, so he’ll come through. Don’t worry your pretty little head. He won’t leave you for dead as he did me,” Zara said as she ran a hand down Olivia’s cheek.

  Olivia flinched and turned her face away from Zara’s touch and focused on Mustafa. She was certain Cash and Diane would do everything possible to save her, but she also believed Cash would do the same for any civilian hostage.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my word and let you live, once he delivers the last two artifacts. Unfortunately, Cash will not be so lucky. He must pay for his sins against me.”

  Olivia’s head shot up. Tears filled her eyes. The thought of Cash trading his life for hers was too much to bear. He confused her, but she cared for him. She feared he might not ever forgive himself for past mistakes and commit to her completely, but she was suddenly desperate to find out if they could have a future together.

  Zara laughed. “So, the thought of Cash’s death bothers you? This may turn out to be more fun than I anticipated. Decisions, decisions—which would be more fun? To make you observe as Cash suffers and dies? Or force him to watch Heinrich torture you any way he deems appropriate until you are just shy of death with no way to rescue the damsel in distress?”