Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15)

by David Leadbeater

  “Maybe we should head out.” Hayden stared back at the door she’d just walked through.

  “The sun is up,” Drake said. “We could—”

  “Stop,” Smyth hissed. “You want this to fester away forever? Day and night?”

  “Bro,” Kinimaka rumbled. “This ain’t the time.”

  “I agree,” Hayden said. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

  Drake watched the interaction between the two. No sign of any change there then. If the years had taught him one thing though—it was that Hayden Jaye wouldn’t be able to continue down this path indefinitely. Something had to give.

  He hoped Mano was still around when it did.

  Then Smyth spoke up in a surprisingly quiet voice. “I’ll share if you guys will.”

  “You mean you’re part of the statement?” Alicia blurted out. “Which bit?”

  Smyth glared. “Like I said—I’ll share if you will.”

  “But I’m not there, Smyth. None of those things relates to me.”

  Drake ran the now legendary statement through his mind.

  I know one of you is a lesbian. One of you is embarrassed all the time. And one of you is dying. I know that. I know one of you killed their parents in cold blood. One of you who is missing is far from what you believe. One of you will die by my hand in three days’ time just to wring those tragic emotions from those who remain. One of you cries themselves to sleep.

  Alicia clicked her fingers. “I knew it, Smythy old boy. You’re a fuckin’ lesbian.”

  “Do you really wanna make light of everyone’s problems?” Mai said softly. “They may not all be desperate or tragic, but they are all very personal.”

  Alicia glared at Mai, but then bit her lip. “I guess you’re right. Imagine that. Hey, I’m sorry.”

  Drake nodded between the two, finding a moment’s relief.

  Smyth spoke again. “I am mentioned on that statement.”

  The next voice was thick, deep, and full of emotion. “As am I.”

  Drake turned to see Yorgi staring at the floor, feet shuffling gently.

  “I never thought . . .” the Yorkshireman began, then clammed up. “Sorry.”

  “Anyone else?” Hayden surveyed the room to speed things along. “Seriously, Mano’s right this time. We gotta go.”

  Smyth stomped angrily out the door. As he walked he spoke to nobody, but put a weight of meaning in his words. “And I’ll tell you who else is on that list. Karin goddamn Blake. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out which part.”

  Drake headed out after Smyth, reviewing the statement in a different way. With all the events and action of the last few weeks he hadn’t really put much thought into figuring out who was who. Just assumed it would all come out in the wash. He wasn’t referred to on the statement, nor was Alicia. What worried him most was the stash they hadn’t yet found.

  Hayden led the party out of Kimbiri. Packs were adjusted and tightened, coats pulled tight and collars turned up against the biting weather. The path ran away before them, twisting across the plateau and into the nearby hills. Brynn made her way to the front, turning with her eyes squinted against the bracing wind.

  “I’ll lead the way and try to find the short cuts. Any questions, just let me know.”

  Drake liked the teacher. She was no nonsense, helpful and seemed to care for everyone. The village of Kimbiri fostered thoughtfulness among its inhabitants, taught throughout the village and reinforced by parents. Their community was so small it didn’t have room for miscreants. It made for a close-knit group and many friends, which made what was happening to them even harder to take. Drake admired anyone that made a go of it against the odds, and these people certainly didn’t deserve to find themselves prey.

  Brynn set a brisk pace along the winding path, which soon warmed the team up. Hayden fell in beside her for a while and the two talked of village life and the state of provisions, other weapons and anything else Hayden could imagine might be important to their survival. Drake walked behind, listening.

  “So this is the weirdest mission,” Alicia said as she strode at his side. “We come out here because a phone signal told us these mountains were the home of an Incan relic smuggler. We came to the village for help, ended up fighting for them against the weirdest set of motherfuckers I’ve ever seen. Now, we’re spending a day trekking to all the nearby villages, getting the lowdown on whether they’re affected or not.”

  Drake unbuttoned his jacket as the sun escaped a cloud that looked like it had been purposely painted. “Aye, love, and even odder. The chateau we found might yet be the home of the relic smuggler. In fact, it has to be.”

  “Maybe. But what do we really know about the relics? Not a lot. Dahl and Kenzie still ain’t here. Karin’s AWOL. Nobody here can research like that girl. All we know is the relics are from a trove that’s never been found before.”

  “And the guy’s been selling them off for a decade.”

  “It hardly fits,” Alicia said. “Inca relics. Cannibals. Mountain chateau. Spider things. This Dantanion dude has a lot to answer for.”

  The path began to climb, still meandering through the hills and over the rises, each a little higher than the last. The path was stony; low walls ran occasionally to left and right signaling some kind of territorial boundary. Fields were either barren or fertile, and some held goats and other animals. Alicia eyed each one carefully.

  “We’re safe, don’t worry.” Drake watched the advance of a black and white goat.

  “Dunno about that, dude. What the hell is that thing?”

  He stared. “A llama. Don’t you know anything about animals?”

  A snort. “Not a great deal, no. I was busy during my school days.”

  “I daren’t even ask.”

  Brynn then made space for them up front. At first, Drake thought she might be about to start teaching Alicia a little of the local curriculum and settled in for a quiet laugh, but then the teacher pointed out a low dwelling ahead.

  “A farmstead. One of three around here. We should check with them.”

  Twenty minutes later and they had the bad news. The farmsteads, all three, had been terrorized occasionally by monsters, by beings carrying flickering lights.

  Drake forced down the anger and pushed on, heading slightly downhill now as they neared Nuno. Of course they already knew Nuno had been targeted, but a quick talk to the village elders told them another attack had been endured two nights ago. One young man had been carried away.

  The morning wore on and the team climbed higher. More farmsteads within the area were visited and more incidents uncovered. The picture that started to form was frightening indeed—a nightly reign of terror spanning at least a year. Monsters and lights. The rare plea for help completely ignored. Kimbiri’s problems magnified again and again.

  They paused for lunch in the lee of a hill, shielded by a stand of trees. Drake found a burbling brook and drank his fill. The team chatted idly. He sat back on a white boulder and rubbed his chest—two bruises where arrows had hit the night before. Bruises were normal and never bothered him, but the toll being taken from these mountain folk did.

  Mai crouched and drank from the same stream. “It is worse than we thought.”

  “Oh aye, I know. The question is—where do we go from here?”

  “To know the road ahead, ask those coming back.”

  “Is that a proverb?” he asked. “ ’Cause no one’s coming back. Not to these farms and those villages. In fact, I’m thinking we have to do the very opposite.”

  Mai sat beside him. “You are right, of course.”

  Drake saw that maybe she’d helped him. “All right. Any other inspiring proverbs?”

  “Only my favorite.” She smiled into the distance. “Don’t open a shop unless you like to smile.”

  He laughed, content with her. Footsteps sounded behind them then and he winced, expecting a boot to the spine from his girlfriend, but it was Brynn that bent down to drink.


  “Of course this area is home to all the Inca legends,” she said. “It is Peru and these are the Andes. I know of the one that you speak. The Gold Room of Atahualpa.”

  It made sense that the teacher would at least have some knowledge of the local legends. Drake berated himself. “Any clues?”

  “As to where it is? As to what happened to it?” Brynn laughed. “They say the Incas threw it into a manmade lake. They say it was secreted in a deep cave. They say it was hidden and forgotten after the Spaniards took control; then lost in an earthquake.” She spread her hands apart. “Earthquakes hit these mountains frequently.”

  Drake stared at the ground as if expecting it to shake. “Now bad?”

  Brynn rose, tying her hair back. “Most are small,” she said. “Some . . . are bad.”

  He didn’t push her. “What else do you know?”

  “I know of the Ransom Room.” Brynn paused as the others started to listen. “Located now in Cajamarca it is the place where Pizarro held and executed Atahualpa and considered where the Inca Empire came to an end. After the Spanish priest, Valverde, failed to interest the Incas in Catholicism, Pizarro attacked. He captured Atahualpa and imprisoned him in that room, destined for execution. Atahualpa bargained for his liberty, offering to fill the room where he was held, and two similar rooms, with gold and silver. In particular, some of the finest pieces the Incas ever made, including an incredible fountain. Pizarro agreed and waited but, like most conquerors, grew tired of months of waiting and executed Atahualpa anyway. The gold, which was already en route, was then lost forever.”

  “Do you believe that story?” Hayden asked.

  “It’s not a matter of belief. It’s a matter of record. The Ransom Room was real. The deal was real. Atahualpa and Pizarro were real. The gold was chronicled by both the Spaniards and the Incas.” She shrugged. “What is there not to believe?”

  “And nobody ever found it?” Kinimaka asked.

  “It is said Valverde later found it and went away a rich man. But nobody ever again from that era. Maybe it was lost in an earthquake after all.”

  The group headed out, climbing again, nearing one of the larger mountains. Along its flanks a farm lay; and more reports of monsters were heard. Over its slopes and bearing down the other side they neared the furthest village still within reach of Kimbiri—a place called Quillabiri. After Brynn talked to the leaders she reported that the story remained the same—not as frequently here but the pattern did not change. Every farm and village within a day’s distance of the mountain chateau was under fire, and needed protection.

  “There’s only one way we’re going to be able to protect them all,” Hayden said as they finally headed back.

  “Full on assault of the chateau?” Alicia said.

  “I wish. But it’s too remote, isolated and undoubtedly well protected to simply attack. We need a deeper plan.”

  “We could do it,” Drake said. “We’ve succeeded in harder ops.”

  “Agreed,” Hayden said. “But the odds are way low. And if we fail—who looks out for all these villages?”

  Drake bowed his head immediately. It was a damn good job Hayden was thinking everything through. The chateau had been inhabited for over ten years now, the potential source of cannibalism and terror for over twelve months. This Dantanion would have anticipated the obvious.

  He walked with the boss. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Dahl and Kenzie arrive tomorrow. Let’s talk to them. And back at Kimbiri, we need to come up with something. I don’t know yet.”

  Drake nodded toward Smyth and Alicia. “Some would say helicopter gunships blasting that house off the mountain.”

  “Yeah, and others recall what Bruno told us back in Cusco. That people are brainwashed into this cult. There could be innocent men and women in there, Drake.”

  “Prisoners?” He sighed. “I guess. Well, let’s see what Dahl says. The Mad Swede always shows a huge amount of finesse.”

  Hayden’s snort of laughter echoed through the mountains.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  They arrived back in Kimbiri way before darkness fell, to a surprise.

  Drake led the way up the main street to find a large, hulked figure seated outside a small house, chatting away to villagers, Emilio and Clareta. Drake stopped when he saw the figure, whose back was turned to them.

  Blond hair shook as the figure nodded back and forth. To the man’s left a woman sat, hair tied back and a sword at her side.

  “Shit,” Alicia said. “Did we just enter the set of Vikings?”

  The man turned steadily. “Oh, it’s the chip-buttie boy. We all thought a rogue alpaca had eaten you lot.”

  Alicia sent a fearful glance to the edge of town. “Haven’t come across one yet. Just mountain spiders. Ghosts. Cannibals. Kidnapping. A modern day Dracula. The usual stuff. Are alpacas so bad?”

  “I heard about this Dantanion.” Dahl nodded.

  Drake walked straight up to his friend, unable to keep the smile from his face. “Took your fuckin’ time, wazzock.”

  “So many martinis, so little time. So many yachts, so few hours. So many casinos, so—”

  “This is Brynn,” Hayden introduced the teacher. “She’ll help with the translation.”

  “Ah, good. The hand gestures were starting to feel like a Yorkshireman ordering a hot dog in France.”

  Drake knew it had to be an insult, but couldn’t figure it out fast enough. Instead he switched to the tried and trusted: “I got a hand gesture for you.”

  Brynn slapped his shoulder. “There are children present.”

  “Umm, oh, sorry.”

  More chairs were brought and the team rested their weary legs. Tables were brought out and quickly filled with meat and vegetables, a tureen full of stew and bottles of wine. Hayden started to protest, but Emilio silenced her with a hand.

  “Our thank you to you,” he said through Brynn. “Let us show our gratitude as best we can. It is not much.”

  Drake saw the need in their eyes. To say no at this point would be to cause embarrassment, and there were still three hours before sundown. He shuffled his chair along so that it was next to Dahl’s and sat back, letting the villagers do their work, and begin to join in the chatter. Of course, it was hard at first but hand motions and smiles, nods and shrugs were always universal.

  “You win at the casino?” Drake asked in an undertone.

  “Which casino?”

  “Oh, funny. Don’t tell me you had time to hit more than one.”

  “Didn’t hit any,” Dahl admitted. “SPEAR’s European tour had few highlights, I’m sad to say.”

  “Hardly SPEAR,” Drake said. “The Swede and the swordswoman.”

  Dahl cast a thoughtful eye over at Kenzie. Drake read it without effort. “You think she did well?”

  “Yeah. I think she could be a real asset to the team.”

  “Don’t get attached. That’s when people start to die.” Drake accepted a glass of wine though he had no intention of drinking it. “Sorry, that was thoughtless. And wrong.”

  Dahl shrugged. “No, my friend. It is true and it is life. Real life. We all have our problems that we must surmount; it is what we do with the good times that counts.”

  Drake settled back. The round metal tables had been arranged into a cluttered jigsaw. With Alicia to his right and the Swede at his left, he felt content. The smell of cooked meat made his mouth water. Brynn was close enough to listen and talk to. Emilio and Clareta smiled, ate and drank, and invited more and more villagers to join them. At last, Drake saw the happy community at work; the place Kimbiri had once been. He saw children holding hands and listening to their parents. Men fetching the heavy containers and women rushing off to change into their brighter clothing. He saw several marveling at Kenzie’s sword and a tiny tinge of embarrassment on the Israeli’s face. Someone brought out a boom box and inserted a CD with an ’80s’ rock mix. Drake was hoping for Guns N’ Roses, Judas Priest and Def Leppard but ended u
p being treated to Michael Jackson, Cyndi Lauper and “Depeche Fucking Mode.”

  “It says rock,” he moaned. “Look. It clearly says rock on the label.” He held the offending plastic case up. “The only rock the makers of this compilation know is the one inside their bloody skulls.”

  “Remember dino rock?” Mai’s eyes lit up in memory. “Dancing to Foreigner in war-torn Chechnya? Listening to Van Halen as we prepared that jump? Speakers blasting away.”

  Alicia was on it like a viper striking. “He’s modernized now, and into prettier more reckless things.”

  “Oh, clever.” Mai didn’t smile.

  Drake tried to mediate. “I like the new stuff, but I still enjoy a good blast with the old stuff too.” He winced a little as Alicia turned a red-hot stare on him. He tried again. “Maybe it would be nice to mix them together.”

  Alicia growled. Mai blinked. Drake now cringed. “Shit, I didn’t mean—”

  “Never gonna happen,” the Englishwoman said.

  “It’s the wine talking.” Drake held up the full glass.

  A party erupted all around them. The villagers had lived in fear for so long they took this one chance to let their guard down, to live. Drake accepted thanks again and again, and started a stilted conversation with a couple that knew enough English to get by. Alicia danced with one young man, then another. Dahl fended off the attention of several twenty-somethings. Even the sun emerged grandly from behind white wisps of cloud, bathing the land with cheer.

  “Now that’s putting in a great appearance,” Drake said to nobody in particular. “Something the English football team should learn about.”

  Drake tore off a chunk of food and ate, stomach complaining after so many rations during the last few days. It felt good to eat real food. He chewed, drank water and found himself nodding along with Madonna.

  Fuck it. The old girl managed more than one decent song in her time.

  Brynn returned to her seat after a quick turn around the dance floor—the dusty village square—and then scooted up a few spaces, taking advantage of Alicia’s own popularity with the boys.

  One time, Drake thought, she’d have ridiculed the stranger asking her to dance.