Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

“Mostly.” When he wasn’t enjoying the feel of her beneath him on the cool grass. Or drooling over the picture she made coming out of the shower. Or fighting an overwhelming surge of lust over her scorching response to his kiss.

  Oscar snagged another sausage from his to-go breakfast and used it to point toward the picture on Dallas’s phone. “Airfield has a wall-sized 3D topo map of Queensland. Think they got a paper version, too.”

  “Time isn’t on our side.” Dallas held up his phone and pointed to the red X. “This is where Maddox is headed. While we visit the airport, she’s getting closer to finding an artifact that my government needs to gain an ally.”

  Oscar pulled over. “Let me see that picture.”

  Dallas handed him the phone and sat impatiently while his new friend scrolled the photo. He was about to yank him out of the truck and drive himself to the mountain when Oscar handed it back to him.

  “Years ago the Defense Force did a training operation up that way. I remember seeing a forgotten old cattle station not too far off the road. The location is marked on the airfield map. We need to compare the two because I’m thinking it’s the same spot.”

  As much as he hated yet another delay, his gut said to trust Oscar’s hunch. “It’s on the way, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “They open this early?”

  “No worries. Marla opens the place. We’ve been friends for years, and she’s always there before the sun.”

  Dallas clicked off the phone. “What are we waiting for?”

  They pulled away from the curb and drove straight down Adelaide, crossed the Endeavour River, and aimed for the airfield. A glance in the side-view mirror revealed a dark SUV traveling slowly behind them. They were being watched, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who. Ken Cho wasn’t one to leave things to chance. They’d have to do something about that tail soon.

  Cooktown’s airport sat about seven kilometers outside of town and consisted of a single runway, several small utility buildings, two metal hangers, and one main terminal constructed of yellow painted plywood with green trim and a green tin roof.

  The interior was as sparse as the exterior. A few desks with a long counter on one side and a ramp station for luggage on the other. A slender woman in dark slacks and a white short-sleeved polo shirt rose from the desk when they entered.

  “Good morning, Oscar,” she said with a grin of delight. “You are up and about early today.”

  “Good to see you, Miss Marla,” he replied with a nod. “The place has been busy the last few days, no?”

  “That it has. If we’re lucky, it’ll keep up all summer.” Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled into a flattering braid, the light streaks of gray enhancing the color in her cheeks. She looked wholesome, friendly, and only had eyes for Oscar.

  Dallas decided to stand back and let his new friend take the lead on this one.

  “The movie scout takeoff again this morning?” Oscar asked.

  “I expected her to, but no one showed up. The Cessna is still in hanger one.”

  Oscar leaned casually against the counter. “Who is the plane registered under?”

  She pulled a logbook over and flipped toward the back. “Queen City Flights.” She pointed to an entry. “Pilot is Craig Lawson. He flies tourists out of Cairns.”

  Old news.

  “Did they file any sort of flight plan with you?” Oscar asked.

  “Not really,” she replied. “But as he completed the paperwork, the movie scout was studying something that looked like a grid map. I recognized the general area.”

  “Marla, you are amazing.” Oscar grinned and winked at her. “Show me on the giant map”—he pointed toward the wall—“and I’ll buy you the best steak dinner Cooktown has to offer.”

  “You’re on, mister.” She came around the counter and led the way across to the luggage side of the terminal.

  Dallas shook his head and followed them to a wall-sized aerial map of Cape York Peninsula. From Townsville in the south all the way to the very tip of the cape, it detailed every village, mountain range, and waterway in stark relief.

  “Here.” She tapped the map over Mount Webb. “I believe they were looking here. Though it’s strange they would. I don’t know of any war sites in that area. Farther south or higher north near Lockhart and the Iron Range, yes, but not there.”

  “You shared this location with anyone else yet?” Oscar asked her.

  Marla shook her head. “Haven’t been to the city since Tuesday. I need groceries, though. Will be heading in soon.”

  “Do me a big favor?” Oscar asked her. “There’s some strangers in town, and they might come nosing around. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to them.”

  “It’ll be our little secret.”

  Oscar reached out and gave her a bear hug. “I owe you, Marla.”

  The phone rang, and with a dazzling smile aimed straight for Oscar, she left them at the map.

  “You realize she’s sweet on you, right?” Dallas hadn’t done anything more than casual dating in a long time, but he recognized lovesick when he saw it.

  “No way,” Oscar said with a shake of his head. “She’s not interested in an old man like me.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. She barely looked my direction. I say she’s got it bad.”

  “She’s just a good friend.”

  “And you are blind, but whatever.” Dallas pulled out his phone and opened to the pictures. “Show me the old cattle station.”

  Oscar stepped close to the map and quickly found the spot. “Here”—he pointed—“well back off the road and not easy to find.”

  Dallas compared the photo to the map. He enlarged the image and looked from it to the map and back. It was the same location. He’d bet on it.

  A stand of tourist pamphlets stood nearby, and Oscar plucked out a paper version of the wall map. An ink pen materialized, and he marked the cattle station.

  Dallas studied the mountains, the highs and lows, and tried to determine the best route in to the red X location on Riki’s map.

  “We’ve got this,” Oscar said.

  After a quick wave of thanks to Marla, they were back in the truck and pulling out of the parking lot.

  “How many girlfriends do you have in this town?” Dallas asked as he surveyed the road behind them through the side mirror.

  “Never stopped to count,” he replied. “But friends should be like that, no limit.”

  “I’ve known you twenty-four hours now, and you’ve gone from mild-mannered cab driver to retired armed forces to local playboy. Who is the real Oscar…? What’s your last name anyhow?”

  “Manning. And you’re Landry. We’re a couple of American football stars.”

  Dallas laughed at the irony. It wasn’t the first time his name raised eyebrows. He just never expected it this far south of the equator.

  There was the SUV again. Far enough back, but gaining ground.

  “Turn on a side street,” Dallas said as he stared at the side mirror.

  “I thought you were in a hurry to get to the middle of nowhere.”

  “I am, but we’ve got company.”

  Oscar shot a glance to his own side-view mirror. Several turns later, the dark SUV kept pace behind them.

  “You know, Cooktown used to be a nice quiet place to live until you came along. Want me to lose them?”

  Definitely, but outrunning them in a town this small was unlikely. “I have a feeling this is someone who wants to deliver another message.”

  “Another? You’ve already had one?”

  They’d circled back to the river so Oscar turned left toward the airfield again, keeping them away from town.

  “Our Japanese friends aren’t happy with the number of players. They’d prefer some of us go home.” Something Dallas had
no intention of doing.

  “They’re narrowing the gap,” Oscar said as they sailed past the airfield entrance.

  This needed to end. Ken Cho be damned. Dallas didn’t care what the thug had to say. Intimidation tactics like this only made him mad. Time to beard the dragon in his den.

  “Slow down.”

  Oscar tossed a sideways glance at him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Let’s see what they have to say.”

  Their speed slowed, but rather than match their pace, the other vehicle sped up and made its move. The black and chrome grille guard on the SUV tapped them, the impact jerking them forward.

  “What the devil!” Oscar slammed on his brakes, whipped the truck onto the gravel shoulder, then punched it, spewing rock over the vehicle behind them.

  “Nice touch,” Dallas said. “Stop the car.”

  After a yank of the wheel and a hard brake, Oscar threw the transmission in park. He reached under his seat. “The bastards hit my truck.” He pulled out a semi-automatic pistol, popped in a clip, and chambered a round. “If they’re looking for trouble, they found it.”

  “I thought Australia outlawed carrying concealed guns?” Dallas asked. “Any firearms, for that matter.”

  “They did. But we make an exception when dealing with wankers.”

  “Hold on.” Dallas laid a restraining hand on Oscar’s arm. “Don’t go all Rambo on me. I’m sure they just want to talk. Keep that gun handy and wait here.”

  He climbed out of the vehicle, walked to the back bumper, and waited.

  Ken Cho himself exited the black SUV.

  “You did not take my advice, federal agent.”

  Dallas shrugged and pointed toward the damaged bumper. “Looks like I’m going to need your contact information, maybe swap insurance cards.” He ran a finger down a long scratch. “This will cost a fortune to fix. Crying shame, but I think you bent the frame.”

  “I’m not done yet,” Cho said. “Let me be perfectly clear. I do not like being threatened. I do not like the girl’s interference. I do not like you.”

  “You see, this is a problem. Carrying all that anger inside will give you an ulcer.” Dallas leaned against the back of Oscar’s truck and ignored the malevolent glare in Cho’s eyes. “If it bothers you, why not leave? Let Maddox and I finish the job.”

  His adversary laughed. “You are twice the fool. The girl has left you behind. Perhaps you should reconsider your choice of soldier to stand with in a battle.”

  The bastard was right, but hell would freeze over before he’d give an inch. “You know what they say…divide and conquer. She’s doing what she does best. Winning.”

  A familiar sound suddenly filled the distance. A whump whump of chopper blades that made Cho smile in wicked triumph. “Winning is a fickle mistress. One minute you are on top, the next you are swallowed by despair.”

  The sound grew louder as the helicopter approached, then deafening as it flew directly over top on its way to land at the airfield. Dallas ground his teeth in frustration. Absolutely nothing was going his way.

  “I will not warn you again, federal agent. I’m giving you a chance to go back to wherever you came from. Live to fight another day.”

  Sorry. Giving up was not in his DNA. He’d live to fight today. He had no idea how to get the upper hand, but it was his turn to be on top, and he wouldn’t quit until the tide turned in his favor.

  Cho turned to leave, but Dallas stopped him with a question. “Why do the Yakuza want the Pearl so badly?”

  “It belongs to the Imperial Treasury.”

  “Wrong,” Dallas argued. “It belongs to Cambodia. Japan stole it.”

  “Spoils of war go to the victor.”

  “Japan wasn’t at war with Southeast Asia. They raided cities, temples, and private citizens to build their coffers. There’s no honor in theft.”

  Cho stiffened, and his bodyguard stepped around him, aiming straight for Dallas with fists clenched. But Cho cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

  “Your American government didn’t worry about honor when they made clandestine deals and secreted a massive wealth of stolen gold out of the Philippines. It belongs to Japan.”

  Dallas had read the conspiracy theories. He wasn’t buying it. “Accusations like that require a lot of proof. Got any?”

  “Your country has benefited greatly from the spoils of Yamashita’s gold,” Cho said angrily. “Millions of dollars have disappeared into American political manipulations. Phantom Pearl will not be one of those pieces.”

  “On that, we agree,” Dallas stated. “I plan to see that it gets returned to the rightful owner.”

  “Phantom Pearl belongs to Japan. It will not benefit a private collector, and it will not be used by the American government as a bargaining chip. It will go home. And if you do not wish to die for the cause, you will go home as well.”

  With a sharp pivot, Cho returned to his SUV. Just like that, Dallas had been dismissed. Still, he didn’t move until the vehicle backed away and pulled a U-turn on the road, heading for the airport.

  Quitting wasn’t an option anymore. Not that it ever was. His reputation, his very career, could be on the line. Then there was Riki Maddox. No way he’d abandon her to face the Yakuza alone.

  No matter what the cost, he’d see this through to the end.

  Chapter 13

  For the last thirty minutes, Riki hated everything outdoors. The heat, the bugs, the incessant uphill climbing. It all combined to plummet her mood into the abyss. Not even the amazing array of birdsong helped to keep her spirits positive.

  She prayed they were getting close. It was hard to tell. The GPS was intermittent, its signal cutting in and out as they moved through trees and clambered rocky ravines. It worked long enough to keep them moving in the right direction, and they’d made good use of the last five hours. They concentrated on gaining as much ground as possible, conversation limited to muttered curses and sighs of despair.

  Uphill and down, they pushed hard through the inclines and raced the slopes on descent. The few stops they made were short, barely long enough to take a satellite reading, wipe sweat from their face with a damp towel, or dig out a quick snack from their packs.

  The day stretched out, and the hike turned torturous. Riki did her best to ignore it, but elevation became the enemy, along with the intense heat and humidity. Tropical Queensland in April made her wish she were back in frozen Russia. Craig seemed more acclimated, but he even showed signs of wear and tear as he worked to clear their path with a machete. She appreciated each swing of the blade, knowing the effort zapped his strength.

  He never faltered though, not even when faced with massive spider webs. He was the best partner ever.

  She quickly changed her mind about that after rounding yet another boulder and Craig was waiting, armed with a subject she’d rather avoid.

  “What happens when you find the Pearl?” His pack was on the ground, and he pulled out a mango and a knife and got busy slicing.

  It was bound to come up, and there was no reason not to talk about it. She let her backpack slide off her shoulders and sat on a flat stretch of rock. “Normally I take the pieces I recover back to Kai.” She accepted a couple chunks of cut fruit from Craig. “He delivers it to his contact in the market. I’m not certain if that’s his plan for this one.”

  “He’s using the black market?”

  “Not literally.” She didn’t know the man Kai fenced the pieces through. He had refused to introduce them or connect them in any way. “It’s a gray area. He has an employer of sorts, a man who contracts him for specific pieces. Kai doesn’t talk about him much.”

  Or anything else concerning his life or past. The ambiguity always left her curious, and yet she tried to respect his privacy. But over the last two years, the level of secrecy surrounding him had begun
to bother her.

  “Doesn’t it make you curious?” Craig asked.

  “Of course, it does.” She didn’t want to doubt the man who’d been her rock for so many years. Kai understood better than anyone the confusing mix of joy and pain that came with every successful acquisition.

  “You don’t strike me as the type to go on faith.” Craig used a small amount of his water to dampen a bandana and wipe the sweat from his face. “Why do you keep working for him without knowing?”

  “Because I trust him.”

  Craig laid the rag over his knee and stared at her, his expression dead serious. “You’re aware of why Menita wants the Pearl, right?”

  She knew this job was special to Kai. He’d been focused on this particular piece for several years. She assumed it was nothing more than personal fascination. Still, the intensity in Kai’s voice when he sent her here was the closest thing to excitement she’d ever known him to display. She wanted to get it for him. She never considered asking why.

  “Phantom Pearl is Kai’s crown jewel. That one thing people aspire for, a goal to end all goals. It’s his life’s ambition.”

  Craig was shaking his head. “It’s much more than that. Phantom Pearl is the price of his freedom.”

  His freedom? That was an odd comment. “What are you talking about?”

  “You really don’t know?” Craig stared hard at her, a look of total surprise on his face. “How can you work with him all this time and…never mind. You should ask him. He needs to be the one to explain.”

  “Explain what? I don’t understand.” A heavy sense of dread attached to the already unsettling discontent she’d been keeping at bay.

  “It’s complicated,” Craig replied as he pulled the GPS unit from his pack for another reading. “Probably way more than I even know about. Not my place to say.”

  His evasion tactic was a mirror of Kai’s, and Riki refused to accept it. “That’s just wrong. You can’t mention something this big and then drop it.”

  “You know, I think I’m going back to flying tourists around. They aren’t near as demanding as you.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.”