Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15)

by David Leadbeater

  “It was here,” the boy then said aloud. “It was all around here.”

  He pointed toward a cairn off to the right, a man-made mass of stones in the shape of an upside-down ice cream cone.

  “I was close. Too close. I heard one of them talk. Just one. He called this the Feasting Trail.”

  Alicia glared at the waymark as if it might be intimidated into giving up all of its secrets. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I hid here,” he said, pointing near the base of the stones where the grass was flattened. “Over a week ago. I told nobody. I . . . I . . .” His lower lip quivered.

  Mai bent over, placing a knee on the yellowish ground. “You are safe now. You can speak. Tell us what you saw, my friend.”

  Haunted eyes fixed solely on hers. “The trail went that way.” He gestured without looking. “Winding upward and marked by torchlight that flickered. Because the lights were bright I could make out what was underneath . . .” He swallowed, looking white and sick.

  Drake shared a glance with Alicia. She gestured toward Smyth and Yorgi. “Maybe you guys should secure the perimeter. Just in case.”

  The boy struggled to speak, tears in his eyes. “Body parts,” he forced out. Each standing torch lit a pile of . . .” He choked and Mai told him not to go on. Alicia drew a heavy breath and followed the trail with her eyes. They should see signs of scorching up ahead—something to follow—and perhaps even some remains. She didn’t voice the obvious questions—whose bodies? Were they the creatures or were they the villagers? Or perhaps others? It was enough that the boy had led them here after witnessing such a horror.

  He wasn’t yet done.

  “Far, far along,” he said. “Up there. The lights glowed bright and were steady. The Feasting Trail led that way, though I went no further. In my nightmares I see it as their home.”

  “Did you see what happened to the body parts?” Kinimaka blurted out. “I mean—it’s an odd way to mark a trail. Are you sure they were real?”

  Hayden frowned at the Hawaiian, about to admonish his thoughtlessness, but the boy latched onto Mano’s words. “I watched only for a little while before I ran, but the mountain spiders or whatever you call them, stopped by each fire and lifted the remains. That’s how I knew what they were. They seemed . . . they seemed to carry them away.”

  Alicia felt revulsion twist her face. “Senseless and twisted,” she said. “I don’t understand this at all.”

  “They are the ghosts of the mountains,” the boy said. “I told you so.”

  “Ghosts don’t leave a trail.” Mai stared into the middle distance. “Let’s see if these guys do.”

  Together, they headed out, gathered protectively around the boy. Smyth found a small hole in the earth a hundred meters distant. The grass was spotted black all around, the dirt charred. With utter care now they moved forward, easily finding another three torch-holes. The path bent outward toward the edge of the mountain.

  Coming around the curve of the slope they saw Yorgi had stopped and was staring at the ground. Alicia, Drake and Hayden went forward, leaving the others behind. The Russian looked up as they approached, distaste on his face.

  “Another hole in the earth,” he muttered. “And this.”

  Alicia cursed inwardly. A blackened foot lay on the ground, partially rotten; the flesh torn and ragged. Hayden pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “What the hell is going on, guys?”

  Smyth came up, glaring at the foot as if it were a rattlesnake. “When in the mountains,” he said. “Keep your gaze up high.”

  Alicia saw it then; above them and clinging to the side of the next rocky rise, perched on the slope of the mountain several hundred meters distant.

  “Is that . . . a house?” Drake asked. “Too far to make it out properly.”

  “These things have to live somewhere.”

  “I was thinking more like a cave. A nest, maybe.”

  Alicia didn’t want to ask if he was joking. The house appeared to be built on three levels, with towers jutting at either end and a front wall from which a steep pathway delved down toward the valley below. “We should get closer,” she said. “Do a proper reccy.”

  Hayden checked her watch. “No time for that,” she said. “Unless you wanna be out here for the night. In any case, the boy doesn’t and we must respect that.”

  “Plus,” Drake nodded, “I think they’ve already seen us. Just saw the glint of binos. I don’t like it, but I think we should all head back to the village and dig in. hopefully, they won’t raid tonight, but we should prepare.”

  “We know where they are now.” Smyth’s lip curled with satisfaction.

  Alicia regarded him. “You fancy going in there? I know I don’t.”

  “It’s a den of evil and no mistake,” Kinimaka said. “We should prepare for anything. Anything at all.”

  Alicia turned away, seeing Mai still shielding the boy from the worst of it all. “It’s the villages around here we should worry about,” she said. “We can’t protect them all.”

  “Information,” Drake said, “is the key. Surely somebody knows all about this house and who owns it. Someone in Cusco. Shit, it could even be our chateau.”

  Hayden coughed. “You only just made that connection, dude?”

  “Well, now we have a location and pictures.” He pulled out his cellphone and took several snaps. “Looking at the position it must have a helipad. Unless the guy’s a . . .” he stopped, staring, then finished. “A recluse.”

  “With an army of pet spiders,” Alicia added. “That terrorizes the local villages.”

  Drake shook his head in disbelief. Alicia knew exactly what he was thinking. We stumbled into some mega-crazy shit this time.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  They returned to Cusco the following morning, having spent an uneventful and sleepless night in Kimbiri. Alicia, Drake and Mai ranged far and wide during the dark hours, but never saw any lights in the mountains, and no signs of trouble falling upon Nuno. The return trip was perfunctory, focused and businesslike, the vistas and the cool winds making no impression on the team. The focus was all on what they would do in Cusco.

  Hayden reminded them of Joshua and the Cusco Militia, now eleven strong and made up of influential people from all walks of life. Smyth gave the ground hard eyes when reminded of Joshua, full of conflict. Kinimaka remained quiet, offering no counsel. Drake again found himself wondering how it would all wash out.

  “The CIA gave us a list,” Drake reminded them all. “Two men haven’t been questioned yet.”

  “I’d like to get to the heart of this militia,” Hayden said. “And wrench it out. What they’re doing to the villagers is unacceptable.”

  “At least,” Smyth grunted.

  “A return visit to the CIA?” Alicia suggested.

  “Let’s start with the two we already know about. The CIA might be wary after Joshua,” Drake led the way back to a vehicle and then sat in the back as Smyth drove. The team were understandably subdued, their thoughts and emotions being tugged a dozen different ways.

  Cusco sprawled before them under a leaden sky, its far reaches climbing a gentle incline. They bypassed the tourist areas and headed straight for the rougher parts, seeking out the two men—one called Bruno and the other Desi. Earlier information had given them a place to look and clear photographs. It took a monotonous hour to find Bruno’s pad, and then the humdrum task of surveillance began.

  Nothing moved in Bruno’s house. The drapes were drawn, the doors and gates all locked. “Night birds sleep late,” Hayden said, and sent Yorgi and Smyth out for sustenance and drinks. There was a time when Kinimaka would have volunteered—today all he asked for were donuts.

  They split surveillance—one team on Bruno, the other on Desi. The houses were only ten minutes apart. As morning became afternoon and then wore on, Drake began to worry. The return trip to Kimbiri wasn’t long but they wanted to be back before nightfall. Mai voiced a similar concern and then
Alicia finally saw her last thread of patience unravel.

  “Fuck this,” she said. “I’ll wake the bastard up.”

  The purpose of the stakeout wasn’t only to establish Bruno’s position, it was to determine if he was alone.

  “Wait. He could have—”

  A voice crackled over the comms. “Still nothing here.”

  “Let her try.” Mai waved Alicia out the door. “He’ll think she’s a hooker.”

  “That’s the idea, Sprite. You’d best stay here since I’m thinking quality stands a better chance.”

  Drake winced at both digs. The pair hadn’t had much opportunity to fight through the last few days, but the antagonism certainly hadn’t diminished. The team prepped as Alicia strode up to the front door, removing her jacket and stuffing her weapons behind her back, into her waistband. It was makeshift and it was messy, but would hopefully distract Bruno for the few seconds required.

  Alicia pounded at the door, undoing her shirt now. Drake slid out of the car, surveying the street. Very little moved up and down the road; parked cars stood at the curb and a few dogs barked. A young child rode a scooter in the distance.

  “Shit, how far’s she gonna go?” Kinimaka asked a bit worriedly.

  Drake looked up. “Alicia? All the way, mate, as usual.”

  With the shirt unbuttoned half way, Alicia popped the button on her trousers, letting the two ends hang apart. She tied her shirt up, struck a pose and pounded again. Let her hair down. Pouted. By the time a figure moved behind the front door’s opaque glass panel she was inching down her trousers and when Bruno shouted out she simply put both her lips to the glass and kissed hard.

  “You wanna open up, big boy? Then you can open me up.”

  Bruno had the door unlocked in less than a second, falling over himself as he made out the blond figure. On seeing her properly he drew breath. Drake saw his lips move but couldn’t make out the words. Alicia held all the man’s attention as Hayden, Mai and he closed in. Their weapons drawn, they paused at the side of the house, and heard Alicia’s spiel.

  “How much? Well, I dunno, man. You alone? How do you measure up in the sausage department?”

  “Yeah, I’m alone and better than most.” A throaty reply.

  “Well, whip it out, big boy. Let’s take a look.”

  Funny how Alicia even managed to turn the tables of prostitution so that she was the one in charge. Drake wasn’t surprised though. Of course she would. The second Alicia started laughing he knew it was time to move. The team surged around the corner, weapons raised, then ran past Bruno, pushing the man back into his own house. Mai and Hayden wasted no time checking the interior rather than relying on his word, but the rest of the small space was empty. The inside smelled of sweat and beer. Alicia opened a few windows, pretending to choke. Drake drove the man back into his own sofa, allowing him to fall, but kept his hands in plain sight.

  Hayden approached him from the right. “Bruno. We know you. We know the rest of the Cusco Militia. But you’re a lucky man today. Tell us what we need to know and we’ll let you live.”

  “Americans?” Bruno grunted. “Americans go fuck yourselves.”

  Drake heard a crackle over the comms and listened as Kinimaka explained how the second team had cornered Desi at the dark end of a side alley. Their interrogation would have to be short and discreet, but it was ongoing.

  Alicia stalked over, raised a knee and planted her foot on the sofa close to his groin. She leaned forward. “What? You don’t want me now?”

  “Dunno. You don’t sound American.”

  “Funny guy.” Alicia slapped his face so fast he didn’t even blink. But he did raise a hand to his cheek in the aftermath, eyes watering.

  “I normally charge extra for that,” Alicia assured him with a smile.

  Hayden leveled her Glock at his face from the other side. “No charge for this,” she said. “I’d be happy to do it.”

  Mai came to Drake’s shoulder, making him suddenly hyperaware of the concentrated female strength present within the room. These were the strongest women he’d ever met and, sometimes despite even themselves, the best intentioned. He watched Bruno’s eyes flit from one to the next, finally settling on Drake as if seeking a male connection. But Drake only shrugged.

  “Tell ’em what they need, pal,” he said. “Maybe you’ll live.”

  “But you are going to hospital,” Alicia growled. “That’s a given.”

  “I have done no wrong!”

  “We know about the Cusco Militia.” Hayden tapped his temple with the Glock. “Pay attention.”

  Bruno looked like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. “You know what happened to Joshua?”

  “They’ll never find the body,” Hayden said shortly. “What will happen to yours?”

  “I am small part.” Bruno showed them an inch gap between thumb and forefinger, making Alicia laugh.

  “I already saw that.” She snorted.

  “In militia,” he said desperately, looking from Hayden to Alicia to Mai. “Not even enforcer. I transport.” He mimed the driving of a wagon and then a long, winding road. “I plan. I deliver.”

  “Logistics?” Drake said. “I guess that makes sense. Most of what these guys are into will need moving around, from goods to bloody people.”

  “You are one of the twelve though,” Hayden said. “So you will answer our questions.”

  Bruno nodded unhappily.

  “The chateau in the mountains,” Hayden said. “Who the hell owns it?”

  Bruno frowned excessively. “The sha . . . two?” He wrapped his tongue around the word thickly.

  “The big house,” Drake amended. “On the side of the mountain.”

  “Ah, it is said to belong to quiet man called Dantanion. Never see him. He send his people to town.”

  “We already know that.” Drake wondered now if they might be able to tie both cases together. “Do these people try to sell relics? Inca treasure?”

  Bruno shook his head without hesitation. “No. They buy food. Only important things. To live with.” He struggled to describe it but Drake guessed he was trying to describe the everyday essentials of living.

  “Soap,” he said. “Medication . . . tablets? Food. Drink. Clothing. That sort of thing?”

  “Yes, yes. But mostly best they can buy. They have much money.”

  “And these people?” Alicia said. “Would you say they look less like human beings and more like . . . spiders?”

  Bruno gawped. “I do not know what you mean. They young and old. No talk. No smile. Just people.”

  Alicia looked around at Drake. “Two separate cases?”

  Hayden coughed. “How many houses exist out in the mountains near Kimbiri and Nuno?” she asked. “I mean modern, expensive ones?”

  “Or indeed, modern, humble ones,” Mai added with thought.

  “Only one that I know of,” Bruno said. “Dantanion’s. Cusco knows of the house but not the owners. All the rest—homesteads. Farms. Old families.”

  Drake saw the tension in the shoulders, the tightness of the lips and the way Bruno refused to look anyone in the eye. He supposed it could all be down to Alicia’s treatment of his manhood, but somehow doubted it.

  “You’re lying,” he said. “You know more about this Dantanion’s house than you’re letting on. Give it up, mate. It ain’t worth upsetting Alicia for.”

  The blonde’s boot planted itself in his chest and then traveled dangerously lower. Hayden backed it up with another thump of the temple, the Glock striking dully.

  Bruno winced. “You will not believe me.”

  “In your defense I totally understand why you might think that, but tell us anyway.”

  Bruno shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Alicia’s dirty boot. “I know little of Dantanion. They say so little. He is tall; he is good; he is a god. He is their leader. He provides for all. Yah, yah.” He made his hand talk. “Yah, yah. For sure he is a mystery. To have such power over people.”


  “Go on.” Alicia ground her heel.

  “Ow. Be careful, bitch. This Dantanion—some in Cusco believe he is today’s Dracula,” Bruno started laughing. Drake noticed, however, that the noise was forced. He watched the man carefully.

  “So the dopey twats think he’s drinking blood, eh?” But the memories of the Feasting Trail and what they had found there prodded his mind like the smooth knob of a stripped bone.

  “Not that. Not blood.” Bruno stopped laughing now, and a slightly hysterical intake of breath filled his lungs. “That house. It has been there for a three centuries . . . clinging,” he struggled with the word as if he’d heard it from another, “clinging to the cliffs like some . . . some ravenous spider from before history. Three times, it has been home to men. Three times.” Bruno swallowed drily. “In mid-1800s thousands of Chinese came here, and one legendary noble. Fingers like knives, they say. Face like plastic that warped. Always wore a red and gold robe. He owned the house and filled it with peasants; threw them from the walls for his pleasure. Burned them for fun. Brought with him this, opium? Something like that. They say clouds melted the snow above his house. But when he started taking locals—not Chinese—somebody started a revolution. An attack. They killed the man and shunned the house, leaving it empty for a hundred years.”

  Alicia leaned back, amused. “First he won’t talk. Now you can’t get a word in edgeways. Must value his hazelnuts.”

  Hayden picked up on something. “You say the house is three hundred years old? But it looks modern.”

  Bruno nodded. “Dantanion used his people to make it new,” he said. “Even use local builders before cut off.”

  “Who else owned the place?” Mai wondered.

  Bruno blanched. “Drug trafficker. It was what you call? House of horrors?”

  “Haunted?” Mai tried.

  “No, no. He made it house of horrors. I heard from my grandfather, who cleaned there. Whole rooms full of blood to wipe down. Chains and hooks in roof, still with flesh . . .”

  “Ok, man,” Hayden interrupted. “We’ve heard enough of the damn house. What about this Dantanion who lives there now? His people? What’s going on there today?”