Brynn grinned over at him. “These people are worth your time?”
Drake frowned. “Of course. What kind of a question is that?”
“You are soldiers.” Brynn shrugged. “Don’t you have nations to protect? Your own citizens?”
“We’re not gonna leave you to the wolves. Relatively speaking.”
“You are a credit to your profession,” Brynn said with heartfelt conviction. “And I offer my most humble thanks.”
Drake bowed his head. In all his years as a soldier it was a rare occasion when someone came up and properly thanked him. Face to face, heart to heart. To many he was a man doing a job. To some, a pawn carrying out the maneuverings of others. But he was still a soldier, risking everything for people regardless or not of whether they welcomed or appreciated it. The calling and the conviction was a duty he carried in his heart.
“We’re here until it’s finished,” he said plainly, and then quickly sought to change the subject. “What else do you know of this Inca legend?”
“The Gold Room? This Pizarro, this Spanish conqueror—” Brynn twisted her face in distaste “—was nothing but a power-hungry fame seeker. Killing thousands in the name of Spain for his own infamous ends. Twice driven away easily by the Incas he came to a settlement where the villagers helped him. Gave his men time and food to help heal from their battles. He then sailed back to Spain, distended with knowledge of gold and wealth, and convinced the emperor to finance a return shortly thereafter. Only this time, the deal was he would be made governor of all the lands he conquered. He killed Atahualpa,” Brynn said in a tone of disgust, “out of fear. The Spaniards numbered 160, the Incas eighty thousand. The coward falsified charges in Atahualpa’s trial and ended up having him garroted. They took Atahualpa so the Incas would have nothing to fight for. General Rumiñahui then hid,” she paused, smiling, “seven hundred and fifty tons of gold they say, in the Llanganates mountains. Beyond these mountains.”
She nodded over Drake’s shoulder.
He gawped. “Seven hundred and fifty tons of gold? Whoa.”
“Some say Ecuador. But those mountains are too high. They are soaring volcanic peaks shrouded in mist. The general would not have gone to such lengths with so much treasure, weighing so much, part of a caravan and with a modicum of men. That area boasts the most treacherous terrain and extreme weather conditions. Why struggle to hide it there? Instead, the general came here to a place he already knew. Does that not make more sense?”
Drake nodded. “I guess, but you’re second guessing an Inca general.”
“Perhaps. But consider this: A treasure made up of life-size figures formed from beaten silver and gold. Thousands of birds, animals, flowers. Pots full of incredible jewelry and vases full of emeralds. And that’s not the best of it.”
“There’s something more valuable?”
“Many things. Not counting the fountain, it is said that thousands of pieces of pre-Inca handicraft and beautiful goldsmith works are among the riches.”
“Pre-Inca?” Drake breathed, tearing at a hunk of meat. “Imagine the worth.”
“Billions,” Brynn said. “But not only that. Imagine the value of such a gift to mankind.”
Drake agreed with her in silence. He was only too well aware of the greed of men and the levels to which they would stoop to own that which others could not, to gain even a modicum of wealth and power. It also occurred to him now that Dantanion—if this man was the seller—could never sell the fountain or other principal pieces. The notoriety of such a sale would soon unmask even him. Also, the violence it would attract.
“If it’s there,” he said, “up there with this Dantanion, we will find it and stop them all.”
Brynn nodded vehemently. “These people,” she said, indicating the dancers and the conversationalists, all chatting with each other and the guests. She nodded at the servers and the cooks; the men that had chosen to stand watch whilst the soldiers ate. She nodded at new friends. “These people want you to train them.”
Drake gave her the widest smile. It was right and it was honorable that a soldier should help people, but when those people expressed a desire to help themselves alongside the soldiers then everything felt right with the world; easing the burdens he carried in his soul.
“Then we will train them,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Karin Blake glared hard at the killer desert as if she might be able to force it into submission. They had been waiting hours now, sweating like greasy bacon stuck on a grill, twitching away the insects and forced to use every moment of knowhow they’d gained from their army training to maintain focus on their target.
“I got sweat creeping everywhere,” Karin complained to the dirt, which was about three inches from her face. “Literally everywhere.”
“Y’know I can help you with that,” Palladino said, touching her shoulder to the left. “Shit . . . been trying for months.”
“Shut your face, Dino. We’re still right in the middle of the shit, trying to help you, remember?”
“Yeah, sorry. Y’know I’m grateful for that.”
“Bloody better be. If the Army find us, we’re going to prison.”
A somber silence fell over the three soldiers. The sun beat down relentlessly as it passed its zenith; the stony brown hills and monoliths stretching to the horizon as if composing the entire world. Dino had likened it to the set of a Mad Max movie. Karin had pointed out it was his family who’d decided to put down roots here.
“No wonder I got the hell out,” he’d grumbled.
But Karin knew he loved his family more than anything else. Why else would they be here?
“Do you think we’re gonna be in so much trouble?” came a low voice from her right. Wu, the slight Chinese-American from LA, couldn’t smooth out the deep, worried crevice that had crinkled his face since they’d set out two days ago.
“AWOL?” Dino snorted softly. “Yeah, they’re gonna cream us.”
“Maybe you,” Karin said. “Not me. My posting to Fort Bragg was a favor. I’m a free agent.” But the words were hollow and the other two knew it. Karin hadn’t been officially released yet. Couple that with Dino and Wu’s absence and she was firmly placed slam bang in the same barrel of camel dung.
“Compassionate grounds,” Dino said. “That’s what we’ll plead.”
Karin shifted her weapon—a reliable M16A2 rifle—to ease a cramp in her shoulders. The current dilemma was an interesting one for her—because, despite all her new plans, she really wanted to help Dino out. Take away the bluster, the manly testosterone and immaturity and he was a likable guy, devoted to his family, raised to care for his friends. She could imagine him in another role, as one of those customer service guys that actually wanted to help his customers. Dino had been there for her every time during her stint—when the heart-breaking memories became too vivid or when the anger broke like a deadly tidal wave and threatened to wash the rest of her life away.
“See that?” Wu said, nodding at the horizon. “Dust.”
“Tire dust,” Dino said. “We’re on.”
Scrambling up, gear creaking, shedding dust and dirt, they ran low toward the next mound, keeping under cover and only two hundred meters from Dino’s old house. They could see the white shutters, the patterned curtains, the low fence. They could see that someone had left the outside lights on. Occasionally, they saw shadows pass the windows.
Dino’s mother, father and older brother would be there today.
The dust trail continued to bloom, its source hidden behind another mound of dirt. Karin tracked it, gauging the distance between it and the house.
“Two minutes,” she said. “We ready?”
“All good.”
“Yeah, damn right.”
A short chance to reflect on the consequences of their upcoming actions. On the one hand they were doing the right thing, but on the other much about it was strictly illegal. And in the darkest corner of her mind a nasty voice hissed t
hat it went against her plans.
No. Not exactly.
She would need men like these.
The other life fell away when the new training kicked in. Karin felt like a new person, reborn. At least able to progress, which for the genius, capable woman she’d been shouldn’t ever have been difficult. Instead, life kicked her in the chest again and again, constantly forcing her back.
After all these weeks and months of planning, the mind was now ready too.
“Here we go,” Dino said.
A dusty Range Rover appeared in the lee of two hills, and followed the half-track all the way to a parking area in front of the house. The dust plume followed it, then billowed around it as the vehicle stopped. A minute passed and then the doors opened.
Figures moved at the house’s front window.
Karin glanced across at Dino. “Are we go?”
“Been a go since I heard these clowns were taking a piece of my family.”
Five emerged from the car; leather jackets open, jeans hanging loose, faces twisted into hard sneers. One of them pointed a gun at the house and pantomimed a fake shot. Laughter sprang up between the men. One kicked at the fence that bordered the well-tended garden. Another simply jumped over the top.
Karin watched as the door opened and a man emerged, fighting his other son, making him go back inside. A woman’s plaintive tones rang out; a threat to call the cops.
Dino’s father closed the door behind him and, unarmed, faced all five thugs. “What is it you want this week?”
Satisfied nobody was left inside the car, Dino ran hard and low, using the vehicle as cover. Karin tracked him to the left and Wu to the right. When Dino heard that his family were being intimidated and bullied into unknown deals by a dope gang who’d decided to take over the sparsely inhabited area, he’d flipped. The information was off the record. The police were compassionate but couldn’t watch the place twenty four hours a day. If a bunch of guys wanted to move to the near desert and live, then that was their affair. Kept them out of the city.
His father’s face was bruised from previous meetings, an eye blackened. Karin knew that Dino’s mother’s face was also bruised, and his brother’s right arm broken.
A swaggering youth kicked at garden ornaments, destroying and scattering them. He put a bullet through the front window, grinning as the glass shattered and the woman screamed. One of his colleagues shot out a top floor window, sheltering and hooting as shards showered all over him.
The tallest man grabbed hold of Dino’s father, pulled him close and jammed the barrel of a handgun into his mouth.
“You ready to give this shithole up, pops? Walk away? Only you left now and we can come back every day.”
Karin came out from behind the car, walking briskly forward as Dino and Wu copied her progress from the other side. Dino shouted, “Hold it right there, assholes. We got you covered now.”
Not an ounce of fear showed as every pair of eyes turned toward them. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Let the old man go and get off this property.”
“Or what? You gonna shoot us dead?”
The tall leader of the group laughed and waved his small handgun around, still gripping Dino’s father’s neck. The old man’s eyes were alight with recognition, the face twisted with fear.
Karin gave herself room on the right, shifting three times, fully aware of what they could and couldn’t do in this situation. It would have been easier to confront the gang in its lair, but they’d not been able to figure out where it was in time. Karin’s intellect told her this was the wrong move—but it was the only move they had.
Dino approached the fence. “Let him go.”
“How ’bout you turn around an’ walk that ass of yours into the mountains?”
Karin breathed out slowly, finger on the trigger. The trouble was—some degenerates just didn’t know when Hades was calling.
Wu inched carefully to the other side, ensuring all three soldiers were clear of each other’s line of fire. Karin wondered if shooting up the car might help.
“We own these hills,” the leader then said, acting as if he was some kind of Wild West gunslinger. “New pad, new deal. We figure we get less heat out here, but can hit the town anytime we like. Old man here, is just in the way.”
Dino visibly gritted his teeth. “United States Army, scum suckers. Put down your weapons.”
A snort of laughter from the leader was quickly taken up by his followers. “Army? Army? Ha, ha, ha, ha.” He made a point of looking closely at their civilian outwear—heavy jackets, dark jeans and boots. “You think three M16s gonna scare us away? Shit, I got ten back at the ranch along with mosta my boys.”
Karin knew they had no time. Every moment that passed moved conflict closer. Every minute sent her new plans shrinking further away. And time was ticking there too. Drake and his team might be out of the country, but they would be back before long. Karin simply had to find Webb’s special information stash before they did.
Dino risked getting closer, the angles lessening by the step. If Karin had comms she’d order him to stop. Instead, the leader of the dope squad squeezed harder on his father’s throat and then threw him back against the door.
“Fuck ’em up.”
Blood shot from neck and shoulder and chest, nothing lower. Karin’s aim veered less than a few millimeters as she squeezed two shots off and saw two men fall dead. Wu performed equally from the other side. The soldiers did not flinch as two bullets flew in reaction to sudden death. The leader stared and blinked and tried to keep his mouth closed, handgun waving all the time.
“What you done . . . shit . . . my crew, man . . .” The weapon, held at an odd angle, drifted in Dino’s direction.
Karin took him down. She had to. Dino was already dropping his M16, shouting out his father’s name as the man fell to the floor, shot in the chest by one of the errant bullets and trying to stop the blood flowing out of his mouth. Dino reached him on two knees and cradled the man’s head. The front door opened and a woman rushed out, wild, face bruised and puffy, the dying man’s name loud upon her lips.
Karin cursed her luck. She let the M16 drop, barrel down toward the ground, as she stood on the spot, looking over at Wu and wondering how they’d let everything go so fast. Life was unpredictable. Outcomes were as volatile as forked lightning. The blazing sun glowered down on an impulsive and chaotic scene.
I just became a fugitive . . .
But even bad outcomes had their beneficial linings: . . . and became thick as thieves with two highly capable soldiers.
Together, they were going to be better.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
In the end she knew they had no choice. The drug smugglers’ ranch would need to be cleansed.
Karin tried to pull Dino away from his father but a stiff arm batted her away. She took the blow across the top of the eye, but didn’t flinch. Dino’s mother was on her knees in the dirt, head pressed to her husband’s chest. Dino’s brother was approaching slowly from the house, bewilderment written across his features.
“What happened? What did you do?”
Karin held it all back. Dino himself cradled his father’s head in his lap, blood soaking through his trousers and coating the back of his hands. The pale face that looked up at Dino possessed no semblance of life anymore.
“Dad . . .”
Karin recalled hearing when her family died, when Komodo died. An overwhelming grief would have gripped Dino, taking him far away from the present. Karin glanced over at Wu and clicked her fingers hard to get the soldier’s attention.
“Look alive, Wu. We ain’t done here.”
“Shut up, Blake.” He shook his head. “What a fuck up.”
She concurred. Nevertheless, she could see what had to be done. Clear thinking was one of her fortés. Maybe it was her intellect, or a side-effect of the fortress she’d built up around her past. Maybe it was the training kicking in under fire. But she saw what was ne
eded in the next few hours as clearly as the river bed of a crystal-water stream.
“Keep it together,” she said, then turned her attention back to Dino.
“Think, Dino. You know what we have to do.”
The old man’s face stared up at her from over Dino’s shoulders, the accusation written visibly. They weren’t going to avenge him; they’d already done that. But . . .
“We need to save the rest of your family.”
Dino shuddered. “I can’t . . . just leave. Not now.”
“You can.” She reached down and hauled him up, leaving the widow and her son staring at their father. “You have to leave now and never come back.”
The pain wrung his heart out. The understanding aged him as she watched. “The cops won’t buy this story.”
“They will.” Karin saw it all in her mind, thoughts striking as fast as lightning. “Leader already said they use M16s. We leave one near your father. He shot the attackers, they shot him. Cops won’t know there’s a ranch.”
“But . . .”
“Your mother had no idea he’d gotten the rifle. They already reported this hassle to the cops. Look at the bruising. Unless we get friggin’ Bosch down here they’re not gonna look too closely—it’s just another strung-out gang off the streets.”
“And when they look for a motive?” Wu asked.
“Dead end,” Karin said. “They’ll drop it.”
“We went AWOL.” Wu came closer. “They’re gonna put it together.”
“Unlikely,” Karin told him. “The investigations won’t link. They’ll be entered into different databases. And nobody can prove we were here, especially when we’re deliberately seen in a different state tomorrow . . .” She stared from Dino to Wu. “It’s gonna work.”
“How the hell did you come up with all that in just a few minutes?” Wu asked.
“In another life I was a writer.” She fixed her attention on Dino. “Can you do it?”
The young man rubbed at his forehead, eyes tightly closed. A brisk gust of wind kicked up dirt around them. Dino’s brother crouched by his father, head down. Dino’s mother sat back on her hunches, a hand reaching out and touching her husband, watching the soldiers.
Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15) Page 17
