Race for the Flash Stone (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 2)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  Thus, Navarro had been quite annoyed when a servant entered with news of a phone call. Handing Navarro a note, the servant stood at his shoulder and awaited instructions. When Navarro read the caller’s name, he abruptly stood and excused himself. “I will be back in a moment, Princesita. Have more champagne.”

  On the way out of the room, Navarro had cornered the servant and instructed him to make sure the young lady didn’t leave with the necklace.

  As he rubbed his hands together while pacing the balcony, Navarro reflected on Van der Berg’s call. The Dutch art dealer had said an anonymous third party claimed to possess Navarro’s prized Olmec artifact and was open to negotiation.

  The dealer said the party had shared a photograph of the item, and he emailed the image to Navarro while they talked. Navarro nearly soiled himself when he opened the email. The gray-green marbled Stone was more beautiful than he had imagined, and it featured a surprising design. Coiled around the Stone was an emerald-colored etching of a snake.

  He had demanded to know the asking price. Van der Berg hedged. Navarro pressed for an answer. The dealer had said it was a bit unusual, but the third party desired to negotiate directly with Navarro. He said the dealership was only asked to make the introduction. Shortly after ringing off, Van der Berg emailed Navarro the seller’s contact information.

  Navarro puffed steam into the frigid night air and readied to call the seller. As he entered each digit of the international number, his finger trembled. On the third ring, Christian Hunte answered the phone.

  “Yes, hello?” said Christian.

  “This is Klaus Navarro. I received your message from Van der Berg.”

  “Ah, good evening, Mr. Navarro. You are interested, then?”

  “I am. Van der Berg said you wished to negotiate directly.”

  “Yes. My client is very protective of his collection and identity.”

  “How much?” demanded Navarro.

  “It is a rare piece, you understand. Not many Olmec pieces are available these days. But, my client is reasonable in his expectations.”

  Navarro pounded the balcony railing. “Yes, yes. The price?”

  “One million. U.S. In cash,” Christian said.

  “That is very pricey, my friend.” Navarro stepped back from the balcony’s edge.

  “It is a unique piece, Mr. Navarro. There is no other like it in the world.”

  Navarro nodded. It was a pittance compared to what the Stone would provide in return. And it would eliminate the hassle of searching for the damn thing. One trip into a jungle was plenty.

  “You have the second piece in the set? The one shaped like a tin?” Navarro asked.

  “Yes, of course. It isn’t ornate like this piece, but it fits well with the other.”

  “Then it is done. I will wire the funds to Mr. Van der Berg tomorrow morning.”

  Christian cleared his throat and said, “My client wishes a face-to-face transaction. As I said, cash is preferred.”

  “What then?” Navarro asked.

  “I can meet you in Costa Rica on Monday of next week. Will that be convenient?”

  “Costa Rica?”

  “Yes, I have other business there to attend. My client desires a discreet transaction, yet prefers the safety of a public place. He suggested we meet at the Las Bolas museum in Palmar Norte. You are familiar with the museum?”

  “I know of it. Why not the national museum in San Jose?”

  “My client feels it would attract notice to open a briefcase containing such a large amount in the middle of a crowded museum. Las Bolas is less traveled. Hence, more discreet.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, and, it is preferable that you come alone.”

  Navarro laughed. “My friend, I’m not walking around with a million in cash without security.”

  “I understand your hesitation. However, I hope you can appreciate my client’s position, Mr. Navarro. It is a rare piece, and, well, to be candid, you have a certain reputation to consider.”

  Navarro paced the balcony in silence. It was a most irregular proposal. The kind conducted by drug lords and money launderers. A reputable seller would want the assurances of a broker, an insurance bond and an independent escrow agent for this type of transaction. They wouldn’t walk into a park with a priceless artifact and count money on a bench. Yet, how could he pass up such a golden opportunity?

  Then, a thought occurred to him. Might it be the Americans? They failed at extradition, but the charges remained in force. Might it be a trap to lure him out of Argentina? But, how would the Americans know of the Flash Stone? And the photo. It seemed genuine to Navarro’s trained eye. Plus, Van der Berg wouldn’t risk his reputation for the Americans, would he?

  Unable to stand the chill any longer, Navarro reentered the parlor.

  “Mr. Navarro? Are you still there?” Christian asked.

  Navarro grumbled, “Very well. I will come alone.”

  After the call, Navarro returned to the dining room to find his buxom dinner guest facedown on the table, champagne glass still gripped in her hand. Sighing, Navarro sashayed over, unclasped the diamond necklace and called for servants to carry her to his bedroom.

  Incline Village, Nevada

  “Look, I know you’re spooked by the whole Alynioria thing, but we’re leaving tomorrow and we still don’t know what to look for or how to open a vault if we find one. Will you please give it another try?” begged Anlon.

  Pebbles crossed her arms and sighed. “Okay, I’ll try. But if I look down and I’m a teen-aged blonde, I’m cutting out.”

  “Thank you, that’s all I’m asking. Give it a try. Antonio’s coming by around four to pick up the Sinethal and Naetir, so if you could do it soon, that would be great.”

  “Fine,” Pebbles said. “I’ll do it right now.”

  She climbed the oak stairs to their bedroom and retrieved the Stones from the closet safe. Returning to the living room, she reclined on the couch while Anlon paced by the unlit hearth. Crooking her head in his direction, Pebbles said, “Go away, you’re stressing me out.”

  Once Anlon left, Pebbles connected the two Stones and closed her eyes. When the vision came into focus, Pebbles was in the marble hall. Malinyah appeared from an entrance at the far end of the room. Smiling, she approached. Pebbles took a quick look down and spied her wrist and ankle tattoos. Raising her hands to her head, she felt for her hair. Though she couldn’t see its color, it was close-cropped, like her current style. She was wearing a tunic, but without the blue-gold piping.

  Malinyah sensed Pebbles’ demeanor and slowed her approach. Bowing her head, she said, “I upset you.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did,” said Pebbles. “I mean, I thought it was cute that you called me Alynioria. I even got a tattoo of the freakin’ flower. I thought I was special to you.”

  Malinyah’s face reddened. “Your sunlight is so similar, it was hard not to think of her.”

  “My sunlight?”

  She nodded. “Your spirit, it is bright as the sun. Just like Alynioria’s.”

  Pebbles felt a gentle current flow through her mind. The emotion was genuine, the compliment authentic.

  “That’s sweet of you, really it is. And, I don’t mind talking about Alynioria or you showing me visions of her. I’d really like to know her like I know you. But I can’t be Alynioria for you. I’m Eleanor. No, strike that. I’m Pebbles. I want you to want to know me! I don’t want to be a doll you dress up.”

  Malinyah nodded. “I understand, Pebbles. Forgive me.”

  Pebbles softened her tone. “I forgive you, of course I do.” She paused and then added, “I don’t mean to be a bitch, it just hurts. I thought I was special to you; I felt like I was special to you. But, you’ve been so angry and you won’t tell me why. And then you give me a little hint, and, bam, I find out I’m a Barbie doll. It sucks both ways.”

  There was sile
nce between them. Pebbles’ eyes teared. She brusquely wiped the droplets away. “Look, let’s talk about this later. Right now, I need your help. We think we’ve found one of your Maerlifs. Well, the general area where one might be. How do we find it? How do we open it?”

  Malinyah’s contrite manner shifted abruptly. “So, you still intend to find the Tyls?”

  Pebbles thrust her jaw forward. “Damn right. And we’re going to do it, with or without your help. There are other people looking for them, Malinyah. Bad people. We think they’re after a Tuliskaera.”

  Malinyah turned and started to walk away. Pebbles called after her. “Come on, Malinyah, if you really believe I have sunlight like Alynioria, you have to trust me!”

  The Naetir dropped on the floor. Pebbles blinked and looked around. Rising, she gathered both Stones and walked to Anlon’s office. It was empty. She left the Stones on his desk and made for the kitchen. Glancing out the back door, she spotted him seated on the patio, sipping lemonade and tapping his foot in rhythm with an Ice Zombies tune.

  Pebbles pushed through the door, clambered down the steps and plopped in a chair next to him. Anlon shut off the song on his phone and looked at her warily. “Um, everything go okay? You look a little ticked.”

  “Nah, I’ll be all right. I think we worked it out. Anyway, I got what we need,” she said.

  “Then, why are you mad?”

  “She called me Pebbles, and, well, I didn’t like it.”

  CHAPTER 19

  INDIO MAIZ

  Indio Maiz Biological Reserve

  Nicaragua

  September 5

  The zodiac boat left Greytown and traveled up the Rio Indio. At first, the broad expanse of the river offered serene views of the jungle on both banks. The tree line was alive with the steady buzz of insects and the high-pitched chirping of spider monkeys.

  Greytown, a sleepy little hamlet bordering the Caribbean Sea, was known locally as San Juan de Nicaragua. In the nineteenth century, it had been a bustling boomtown during the heyday of the California gold rush. For several years, thousands of American and European prospectors had flooded the east coast town seeking a cheaper and faster alternative to reach the west coast. They would board ships in Greytown and travel up the San Juan River until they reached Lake Nicaragua, home of Ometepe and Zapatera. From there, the prospectors made their way to California with dreams of fortune and fame.

  But the town’s sudden prosperity ended abruptly when the United States navy destroyed the town after disputes with local authorities over tariffs and river access turned ugly. A few years later, with the town struggling to get back on its feet, the San Juan River changed course and flooded the town, destroying it once again. Greytown disappeared from the map and was consumed by the jungle. Eventually, the small town was rebuilt, providing Anlon and his crew the easiest path to reach Indio Maiz.

  Already drenched with sweat, Anlon removed his boonie hat and slicked back his sandy-gray hair. Above, dark clouds threatened another downpour. He leaned forward to recheck the seal on the dry bags holding their equipment. So far, they’d managed through two days of intermittent deluges without damage to the magnetometers or ground-penetrating radar.

  To his right knelt Pebbles with paddle gripped at the ready. Her eyes anxiously scanned the shoreline for signs of crocodiles drifting stealthily beneath drooping limbs or lurking in the tall reeds. On their first foray of the muddy Cano Negro tributary, Pebbles had nearly tipped the pontoon-shelled boat when a crocodile attacked Jennifer’s paddle. Their Rama guide, Hector, had screamed at Jennifer to let the paddle go, but she didn’t understand his command.

  The croc’s powerful jaws had yanked the paddle and Jennifer with it. Cesar Perez grabbed hold of her waist and echoed Hector’s urgent plea. Pebbles stood up and raised her paddle to strike the reptile’s snout. Jennifer had then let go, and the sudden release caused the boat to rock. Pebbles lost her balance and stumbled backward. Anlon caught her before she went over the side but the motion raised the opposing side of the boat above the water. The dry bag holding their Breylofte had slipped over the pontoon and into the brackish current.

  As the bright red bag floated away from the boat, they had furiously paddled after it while Hector watched for the reptile’s return. When the bag slipped farther way, Hector had reluctantly started the boat’s engine. He maneuvered the raftlike craft with great skill and Anlon had snagged the sack containing the precious relic.

  Since then, Pebbles had volunteered to serve as lookout, and Anlon transferred the Breylofte to a small pack clipped around his waist. Malinyah had been clear: the Breylofte was vital to locate and open a Maerlif.

  So far, they’d surveyed four landing sites on the south side of Rio Indio without success. They first searched a hilly area near Anlon’s best estimate of the Waterland Map’s Indio Maiz marking. Using the magnetometers, they had split up into two teams and searched a half-mile radius east and west of the mark.

  Moving inward in concentric circles from the outer boundaries of each radius, they had measured for changes in the magnetic field. Specifically, they sought the odd fluctuation pattern associated with kimberlite deposits. Malinyah had said the magnetic-diamond beacon embedded at each Maerlif site was exceptionally powerful.

  Although they came up empty, Anlon and Pebbles learned a valuable lesson from the first search. Despite the cloying heat and humidity, long shirts and pants were mandatory in the jungle. Between mosquito bites, cuts and scrapes, Anlon and Pebbles had been a patchwork of welts by the time Hector steered them back to Greytown and their fishing lodge accommodations. It was a mistake they remedied on subsequent forays into the jungle.

  Now, as their boat turned west toward the Cano Negro, Anlon’s attention was stirred by a light tap on his shoulder. Turning, he beheld Jennifer’s outstretched hand displaying an energy bar. Anlon squinted at the package and asked, “Any more of the oatmeal-raisin ones?”

  “No, we’ve only got chocolate–peanut butter left. A certain someone, ahem, ate the last of the oatmeal-raisin and cranberry-cashew,” she said.

  Pebbles pushed back the hood of her slicker. “Ugh! Let it go, woman! I already said I was sorry.”

  As he peeled the wrapper back, Anlon nudged Pebbles’ arm. “What’s with you and the sudden case of midnight munchies?”

  With an annoyed glare, she barked back, “Don’t distract me, I’m working!”

  Cesar lifted his head from the map he was studying and laughed. “She’s becoming an archaeologist, Anlon. The heat is too much during the day. It kills the appetite. But at night, when the body has cooled down, hunger returns!”

  “Thank you, Cesar!” Pebbles said. She slapped Anlon’s shoulder. “See, Doctor-Know-It-All. It’s biological.”

  Just as Anlon prepared to respond, Hector cut the engine and rattled off a command in a mishmash of Portuguese, English and Rama. Although they didn’t understand a word, the same command had been issued enough times that they all knew to start paddling.

  They were less than two hundred yards up the Cano Negro when a rain shower let loose, but none of them complained. Although the pounding droplets did little to cool the air around them, the precipitation did temporarily lower the heat trapped beneath their clothing.

  The rain continued as they curled through a twist of the river as it wound westward. As they neared their landing site, the rain finally abated. Cesar took advantage of the break in weather to lean forward and tap Anlon on the shoulder. “Before we unpack, can we talk for a moment? I’ve been thinking of a different search area.”

  The five of them sat in the anchored boat as Cesar unfolded the map before them. Pointing to the south side of the junction between Rio Indio and Cano Negro, he said, “We’ve been focused here, near this rise. Now, that makes sense given Devlin’s coordinates. But, as you know, Devlin’s map is imprecise.”

  Drifting a finger northward, he pointed at another rise tucked inside the triangle formed by the meeting rivers. “I think we should
look here. I was thinking it also matches Malinyah’s guidance. A raised, rocky area near the coastline or river. Yes, it’s on the opposite side of the river, and further inland, but it’s only about three miles from where we’ve been searching.”

  “Um, excuse me,” Pebbles said. “Hector, didn’t you say there are a lot more howlers north of the river?”

  Hector nodded. Pebbles turned toward Anlon. She watched him rub at his jaw while considering Cesar’s suggestion. Pointing to the rear of the boat, she announced, “If we do it, I’m on Hector’s team.”

  Jennifer tried to hold in a laugh by covering her mouth, but it sputtered out between her fingers.

  “Laugh all you want, copper! I’m not going near those monkeys again without a gun!”

  “Oh, come on, Pebbles. Just because they’re loud and scary looking doesn’t mean they’ll hurt you,” Jennifer teased. “Right, Hector?”

  Both turned and looked at Hector. He averted his gaze toward the northern shore.

  “See! Hector’s on my side,” Pebbles said.

  “But, Peb—”

  “But, nothing! You weren’t the one taking a pee when they dropped out of a tree!”

  Anlon bit his lip to suppress his own laugh. The visage was one he’d remember for a long time. Pebbles popping from behind the underbrush, pants bunched around her boots, screaming at the top of her lungs as she hopped away from the howlers. Their shrieks were as eerie as they were ear-splitting. At first, Anlon hadn’t seen the monkeys, he just heard their shrieks, but then in the trees above, several of them appeared.

  As Anlon and Cesar had dashed to aid Pebbles, one of the howlers emerged from the underbrush. His cheeks bulged while he grunted and wailed. Upon spotting Anlon and Cesar, the monkey halted and stomped the ground. Above, his tree-borne brethren bounced on limbs and grunted angrily. Pebbles had stumbled over a tree root and crashed down hard. Cesar then reached under his collar and felt for the thin cord around his neck. A second later, he pulled out the whistle attached to the cord and blew aggressively. The shrill sound had frightened the monkeys and they scattered.