Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15)

by David Leadbeater

  Hayden eyed the mountains that stood resolute and indifferent all around them. These ancient places had felt the steps of Inca kings, Spanish conquistadors, Asian nomads who crossed the Bering Strait over fifteen thousand years ago. They had been home to one of the oldest civilizations in the known history of the world. They had echoed to the roar of dinosaurs, withstood a hundred thousand earthquakes. In them, she found strength.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she said softly, her face twisted in anxiety as she waved away the team’s protests. “We’re going to DC and that’s the end of the matter.”

  Alicia straightened as Mai glared. Drake gritted his teeth to stop an outburst. He felt Dahl bristling alongside him.

  Hayden wasn’t finished. “As long as I lead the SPEAR team, we follow what Crowe says. Not following orders is incredibly dangerous for all of us. If anything went wrong they’d probably use us as the scapegoats.”

  Drake hadn’t thought of that but he did know governments had no qualms about throwing ultimately loyal and highly successful agents to the wolves when it suited them. Mai clicked her tongue.

  “You care about that?”

  Hayden forced herself to challenge the stare. “Y’know, Mai, I guess I don’t. I guess when I think straight for a minute, there could be a way around this. It’s a way I’ve been considering for a few days now. But whoever leads is gonna be in the worst danger of their lives.”

  “I don’t care,” Mai said.

  Drake stepped forward. “Let Hayden speak.”

  Mai whirled. “Why? Do you think we should leave too? Has your new girlfriend beaten your integrity down to her own levels?”

  Alicia whistled very softly. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say.”

  Hayden tried again. “I’m your boss,” she spoke up. “Like it or not. That’s the way it is. Life’s beating us all down at the moment, Mai, so quit your whining and your disputes and friggin’ listen. There ain’t nothing more dangerous than going into the lion’s den and since I’m boss—I’ll be doing it.”

  Drake was at a momentary loss. “Not sure I understand, love.”

  “We don’t know how the battle will turn out. We don’t even know if they’ll come tonight, or tomorrow night. We don’t know which village or home they’ll hit. We do know attacking the chateau’s suicidal. And we do know that Dantanion’s recruiting.”

  Drake measured the words, still not seeing it. Dahl turned, confused, as Kenzie let out a little gasp.

  “Hayden Jaye,” she said. “Considering what we know, that’s one of the boldest plans I ever heard.”

  Kinimaka thrust out a hand as if to comfort Hayden, then managed to stop himself at the last moment. Still, he appeared distraught.

  Dantanion’s recruiting. Finally, it hit him. “You’re saying you’re going into the Cannibal King’s lair as a recruit? Fuck that.”

  “It’s a way in. The only way I can see. And Crowe will be forced to capitulate if you say they took me. It’ll give us a few days of breathing room.”

  “But . . . but . . . you know what they do in there, right?”

  “Well, I sure know they don’t play reindeer games.”

  “Hayden,” Kinimaka could barely contain himself. “You’ll be alone. Unarmed. Among more than a hundred enemy soldiers. Monsters. No way of rescue. No communications. No friends. It’s . . . suicide. Knowing their ways, it could be worse than suicide, I think.”

  “Yeah, well, you keep wanting me to change, Mano. Something big, I heard you say, to make me see things a better way. That right? Well, lucky you. Lucky all of you. I am still the boss and this is the plan. Let’s make it happen.”

  For once in his life, Drake didn’t know what to say. The team clearly all felt the same—even Mai who might be thinking she’d just bullied Hayden into taking the most incredible risk. It was at that point that a group of men and women strolled up, clad in their colorful robes, with big smiles on their faces.

  “Soldiers,” one of them said. “We bring you this. We . . . make . . . you this.”

  They stood aside to show what two of them were carrying—a rich platter of food: meats, breads, fruit.

  “We want you . . . stay strong. Thank you . . . for helping us. For training us.”

  Drake swallowed the lump in his throat, turned away.

  “And this too,” another said, holding a tiny bottle tied around the top and containing a dark liquid. “It is love aid. Make man focus. Make him stronger and last longer.” Her eyes twinkled.

  Alicia almost tripped over her own feet she moved so fast. “I’ll take that.”

  Drake found his voice. “Steady on, love. It’s not like we need any of that. Is it?”

  Kenzie stroked Dahl’s shoulder. “Certainly Torst doesn’t need it.”

  “How would you know?” Dahl said quickly, uncomfortably, and then added, “But of course I don’t.”

  Alicia raised an eyebrow at Mai. “Oh, oh. Looks like lil Spritey wants to stamp her wickle foot.”

  Smyth turned away and Yorgi moved around to Hayden’s side. Drake and Dahl accepted the offering and the entire team sat down in the short grass alongside the smiling villagers, their jackets fastened and collars turned up, side by side, to enjoy one last gorgeous meal as a team.

  One by one the soldiers all quietly offered to change places with Hayden.

  But she only stared hard into the gaps between the mountains as if the next ordeal was going to be one worth facing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It took only a matter of hours to find Bruno again. A cog in a chain as brutal and controlling as the Cusco Militia could hardly wander far from its assigned position. After all, the machine only ran productively when all of its parts worked and stayed together. Cusco itself was a noisy den of activity, outdoor markets buzzing with life and making a killing on coca and muna leaves—magic leaves that helped alleviate the symptoms of a new tourist’s altitude sickness.

  The Spanish colloquial feel didn’t spread through the entire town—descendants of the Incas still pulled llama trains through the heart of it. The main cathedral attracted many visitors, an impressive baroque structure, but it was the surviving Inca-built walls that fascinated Drake as he strode through the streets—bound together without mortar and incredibly strong, they were an ancient accompaniment to the stone streets.

  “It’s like the Incas never left,” he said aloud as they tracked Bruno down. “Despite the Spanish.”

  When he clapped eyes on the team, the Cusco Militia’s “transporter” was less than happy. Alicia approached first, giving him the eye, and forced him down a narrow alley. Soon, they found a doorway where they could crowd around.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he blurted out.

  “What wasn’t?” Hayden held a hand up, no doubt wondering what he might spill.

  “The massacre. Landlords weren’t earning their keep. I told you—I am transport only. I do not make decisions like this.”

  Drake decided that they should manipulate more than bully at that point. “All right. We believe you, pal, but now you have to help us.”

  Bruno’s eyes shifted uneasily. “Help? How?”

  “Dantanion,” Hayden said. “He’s been recruiting, yes?”

  “Umm, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Alicia hissed, thrusting her body so close Bruno jumped back and collided with the door, making the frame rattle.

  “Yeah, well, okay. He been recruiting. Had a batch yesterday. Another today. He recruiting more now than ever.”

  “I’m happy to say we had a hand in that,” Smyth grunted.

  Drake wasn’t so sure. He wondered what happened to the fresh recruits that turned them into the flesh-eating, capering servants of an unutterable evil. In the beginning though, they were surely as innocent as anyone.

  “Today’s batch,” Hayden said. “They still here?”

  “Yeah. I’m heading over now to prepare them.”

  “Prepare?”

  “They transport
ed in a container, placed inside a truck. Then driven to drop-off where men wait. Then,” he shrugged, “taken to mountain house.”

  “How many?”

  “Four today. Three yesterday. It is not often easy to get—” he stopped suddenly, clearly realizing his next few words might risk his life.

  “Any ideas what happens to them?” Kinimaka asked.

  “I do not ask questions. Most times, it is better not to ask. From what I see they’re led into the mountains like a herd of goats. I do not know any more.”

  “Luckily for you, we don’t need to know any more. But today, Bruno, you have five. Not four.”

  He stared, genuine surprise obvious by his outburst. “Are you mad?”

  “Time will tell,” Hayden said. “So, you ready?”

  “Yes, yes,” Bruno said. “I can do that.”

  No doubt it increased his takings. Drake made a point of catching his attention. “Listen up now,” he said. “If you blab a word of this to Dantanion or any of his men, we will all take a piece of you. It will be slow and it will be final. Do you get me?”

  “I will say nothing. That is truly what I understand.”

  They allowed Bruno to lead by half a block, following the man to his warehouse where he said the container was stashed. The walk didn’t take long, maybe fifteen minutes, but it felt like the fastest quarter-hour of Drake’s life.

  “No way do you need to do this,” he tried one last time, falling in alongside the boss. “We always find a way. We could hit Dantanion whilst his men are out hunting.”

  “And risk losing another villager? No.”

  “We could infiltrate through the mountains.”

  “Too risky and you know it. They know every inch of those mountains. We know nothing of them. Even the village elders don’t venture that far.”

  “Barrage? A full on assault.”

  “Maybe. But that risks everyone.”

  Of course, he’d known all along that Hayden would never back down. Alicia had known too and had prepared some last-minute personalized advice.

  “Remember what they do up there, Hay. If they offer you any food with the words ‘hung’ or ‘well’ or ‘dong’ in them, just say no. For me, you’re heading in a bit near the knuckle.”

  Hayden groaned.

  “Close to the bone,” Drake said.

  “A knob of butter,” Alicia went on. “Would be far better to choose than a buttered knob. But even then I’d be careful.”

  The team wasted no goodbyes as Hayden turned a corner to the right and they went left. Drake fought down every instinct, every impulse that raised its heckles in protest. Would a traumatic event help her with her personal woes? He saw the sense of her actions, and he saw the recklessness.

  He saw her cravings too.

  Hayden heading into the lion’s den was the only way they could continue to help the villagers.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  Trappings of luxury filled the room, the wardrobes and the walls; they reassured his weary mind that all was as it should be, but he did not need them. Dantanion had built this small community from scratch, in his own image and to exacting standards. It appeared now that the small luxuries he had afforded his followers were the very things that had outdone them all.

  Temporarily.

  He knew of the fighters in the villages and believed they weren’t going away soon. Perhaps the people had clubbed together and bought some protection. Dantanion was starting to believe something would need to be done. His people, his children, deserved nothing less. And speaking of children, the first true child had been born into his care the previous night—one he sired—and one that would be brought up truly and purely within the community he’d built. Celebrations had been intense.

  And so to today, when ritual returned. The clock told him he still had eighteen minutes until the next feasting, which presented an opportunity.

  Dantanion dialed a number and waited, tapping his finely manicured nails against the highly polished desk.

  A rough voice picked up. “Who is this?”

  “It is Dantanion. I wish to speak to Toni.” Soft spoken as ever, he knew they would jump when they heard his voice. No need for threats when reputation spoke like the mouth of a volcano.

  “Mr. D? How are you?” Toni was allowed a few luxuries partly because he was the leader of the Cusco Militia, but mostly because Dantanion didn’t care what they named him in their world.

  “Yes. I find myself tripping over foreign warriors in the hills, Toni. What do you know?”

  “Ah, the Americans. They were sniffing around Cusco too about the same time as Joshua was murdered. I cannot tell if they did it.” A pause. “Though there were many that wanted Joshua sleeping inside a horizontal box.”

  “You should be wary of the company you keep.” Dantanion kept none but his own.

  “True enough, Mr. D. They are a Special Forces team out of Washington DC.”

  Dantanion hadn’t expected that. He sank into a chair and reached instinctively for one of the little delicacies his chef had prepared and placed in a round china bowl. The large toe had been stripped of its nail, cleaned, scraped and cooked to perfection. Dantanion bit into the soft flesh and chewed, careful to nibble around the bone.

  “Special Forces you say? In Peru? Is there anything we can make our government aware of?”

  “I understand what you’re saying. And yes, I could probably incite an incident, but not directly and not quickly. It would have to be routed through channels.”

  “How long?”

  “Days.”

  He tore off another morsel, chewing reflectively. A full, deep flavor filled his mouth. “Go on, Toni.”

  “Ah,” The man spoke for five minutes, mentioning names and tying them to events; villains the team had taken down; bosses and lines of communication. None of it was much use to Dantanion, except to confirm that the threat he faced was the real deal.

  “Send me everything you have by email.” He reeled off one of the highly protected addresses.

  “I will, Mr. D.”

  “And my fresh recruits? How many today?”

  “They just set off. Four, I am told. Yes, four.”

  “Good. Keep them coming. I must cover my losses.” Picking delicately at what was left at the toe he shredded skin from slivers of bone, seeking out a juicy morsel. The meaty flavor only set his appetite blazing in anticipation of tonight’s feast.

  Quickly, he rounded off the call and dabbed at his cheeks and lips, removing a little drool. That was a good sign, of course, never frowned upon. It showed satisfaction, eagerness, gratification. Time was fleeting and he made his way quickly to the feasting hall, entering unnoticed as was his way and slipping quietly into the seat at the head of the table.

  Men and women stood all around, behind chairs and lining the corners of the wide room, chatting, smiling, studying modern artistic masterpieces. They were waiting for the gong to sound. They were his followers, his family, though none sought to catch his eye. Dantanion watched them in silence, testing the room’s ambiance, its mood, its underlying layer of feeling. Until now, his family had never lost in battle, never returned home in defeat, never faced anything as powerful as this.

  He wanted to see how they coped.

  The gong chimed out. The feasters all took their seats, no doubt happy this was their night on the rota. Not only was feasting night their greatest pleasure, it also made a nice change from the caves.

  Studying the assembled mass carefully, he waved for the waiters to start serving the meal. Carried on five platters it was the severed arms, legs and body of one of their own; the identity respectfully kept secret by the removal of the head. Of course, the meat had been properly prepared—stripped, cooked and then replaced as best they could—he kept his chefs for their culinary not presentation skills. More waiters appeared with sharp, gleaming knives and started to carve the meat, directed by the feasters who then placed the flesh on gleaming plates and looked to the head of t
he table, to Dantanion.

  “With this feast we gain the strength to overcome our enemies, replenish and renew our knowledge, expand our skills and accept new successes. We give thanks to the offering for giving their essence and all that they were, to nourish and sustain us.”

  They recited it back and raised their glasses. Servers poured a rich, red liquid until they were half full. Merlot. They drank together.

  “It is a fine day for a feast,” Dantanion said and tore flesh from bone. With a flick of his wrist he instructed a waiter to pick him a selection of the tastiest looking unmentionables from around the table and a bowl of dipping sauce, its barbecue-flavored contents enriched with a light spray of hot blood.

  One more problem preyed on his mind, casting a little pall over proceedings. The buyer for the Inca relics had fallen off the grid. Dantanion couldn’t reach him, nor could he reach any of the middlemen. Clearly, something had gone wrong and again, was now a threat to the society.

  Dantanion wiped his face with a napkin that came away soaked in red. A waiter appeared, took it away and presented a fresh one.

  “Nice sauce,” said the man to his right.

  Dantanion nodded. “Exquisite.”

  Unhappiness clung to his aura like a black shroud, ever tighter so that he could barely shrug it off. He managed it though when the most anticipated event of the night began. Every time new followers arrived they spent their first night visiting the feasting hall after the family had eaten their fill. They were seated at the table, watched over by the family, and allowed to show just how grateful they were by severing, cooking and then eating a tiny part of themselves. Dantanion found it helped the initiation immensely and was eagerly awaited by the long-standing members because, until recently, it had been a rare event.

  Today there had been three new recruits.

  And, happiness, tomorrow there would be four.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Drake took Curtis and Desiree out for some target practice and a little field work. The skills he could teach them were limited to the time he had, but he could at least help them live longer.