Aztec Gold

SIXTEEN

Within an hour the team had secured a local guide and directed him to take them to the first location — Grandview Peak and Little Black Mountain. The entire route had been mapped out to over three hundred miles, but the group wanted to follow the map precisely rather than skip straight to the last location. Crouch in particular wanted their first expedition to be defined rather than ballpark, specific rather than nebulous.

Alicia hesitated at the idea of employing a guide. Did they need one? Surely finding these locations was a pretty painless exercise. After all, people had been finding them for years.

Caitlyn made sense of it. “He wants the drama, not to mention the added credibility. It will help make the find unquestionably authentic and even more appealing to our friends at the World Heritage Committee. It’s another reason he didn’t complain too much about having Cruz here tagging along.”

Cruz nodded. “I am an unqualified Aztec historian. An intermediary. A pacifier. A librarian.”

Alicia evaluated him. “Not a lover or a fighter then?”

“Maybe one. Not the other.”

“Damn. Right now I need a man that’s both.”

After swopping their vehicle for a larger, more robust four-wheel-drive they headed out of Kanab. It was late afternoon and the team had been on the go since their last fitful catnap on the plane, but nobody requested a break. The fact that Coker and his gun-toting entourage could turn up at any minute was not lost on them.

The single road wound out of the flat town and started to climb up into the hills. At first, Alicia was as fascinated as the rest of them by the Wild West country and the once in a lifetime spectacular sights, but she soon decided that once you’d seen one stunning canyon you’d pretty much seen them all. She tilted her headrest back and closed her eyes.

They woke her when Grandview Peak and Little Black Mountain emerged, comparing their map to the curves of the scenery. It was hard to imagine the Aztec warriors in their hide-covered caravans, struggling gamely along the mountain passes until they found a place to hide their gold. Even harder when sat in a burbling vehicle on a straight, asphalted road with an MP3 player and a cellphone strapped to your waist.

Further along they found the Tower of Babel and then Fiery Furnace. Crouch was convinced that they were the landmarks they sought. It was after the final one, the Fiery Furnace, when his nose dipped toward the map again.

“Over the spikes of the furnace,” he said. “There appears to be some kind of plateau and a great many trees. Is that correct?”

Their guide, a weathered American with a deep accent and a dislike for communication, nodded. His name was Boots, because he never removed them.

“From up there,” Crouch pointed to the plateau, “the calendar notations begin. The good news is that it’s in footsteps rather than days. We’re very close.”

“Won’t be going that way,” their guide piped up.

Crouch did a double-take. “Sorry?”

“Militia country. Everything past that plateau. Damn fools guard their territory like a bunch of apes around a banana factory.”

“You’re telling me that the place we want to be — the treasure site — is inside the perimeter set up by the High Desert Militia?”

Boots sucked his bottom lip hard. “That I am.”

Crouch took a deep breath to settle himself, then said, “Show me.”

Darkness had fallen by the time the small group located a parking area and hiked to the top of Fiery Furnace. Alicia took time to scan their surroundings and noted the profuse amount of twinkling campfires down below. Boots told them the Furnace was a regular tourist haunt as well as a place for serious hikers. Alicia began to wonder how the hell the Aztecs had hidden their gold from all these wandering people.

Before she could address the question, Boots was pointing across the top of the plateau. Alicia drew her jacket together against the night chill and peered into the distance. A smattering of stars and a crescent moon added a generous amount of light.

“Trees. Trees. Trees.” Boots pointed out each one. “Look between them. Look hard.”

Alicia peered. At the edge of her vision she thought she saw a high metal fence. Crouch consulted his map. “From this point.” He indicated a significant hollowed out shape in the edge of the cliff that led down to the Fiery Furnace. “From this exact point, the Aztecs turned to marking out the path in footsteps. One hundred paces and turn right, that kind of thing. We’re close. But… follow me.”

Crouch set off at pace, the team jumping to catch up and dragging a protesting Boots along with them. Their leader didn’t refer to the map just yet, but walked right up to the fence a hundred yards distant and stared through. Alicia stood at his shoulder.

Flat scrubland spread out to all sides, stretching away to a small collection of metal huts and buildings. Alicia could make out a central square marked by blazing trash cans, beaten-up cars, canvas-covered transport trucks, and a small central dais where a tattered, indistinct flag hung as if in defeat. Old, battered signs — handwritten — clung half-heartedly to the fence: It’s your ass if you ignore this fence.

She made a face. “Classy.”

Crouch evaluated the camp. “How far does it stretch?”

“Few miles. Maybe more.” Boots sucked at his lips nervously.

“How many of them?”

“How the hell should I know? But I seen at least thirty or forty at one time. So, probably more than that.”

Alicia squinted at their vague guide. “They show any signs of being dangerous?”

“Bad dudes.” Boots nodded. “Very bad dudes. I seen them chase down one of their own once, strap him to the back of one of those big trucks and drag him through the desert. Weren’t much left of the guy after that. I never seen ‘em back down to anyone. Not once. I guess they got the firepower to back ‘em up.”

“And the law?” Cruz asked. “Do they not become involved?”

“Cops leave ‘em alone. Never shown any major inclination to get involved here. Leastways, not without the Army as back up. But the militia do keep themselves to themselves mostly. Don’t cause no trouble.”

Alicia kept her eyes on the scene. She counted over twenty men lounging around, taking it easy, chatting in circles near the burning cans. Others walked between huts, carrying beer and cigarettes, laughing loudly. Somewhere a husky motorcycle started up, roaring at the night. No surveillance cameras were in evidence and the fence wasn’t electrified. The lack of a perimeter guard was all too clear.

“Easy to get in,” she said. “But still risky. And dangerous. And that sign about my ass really puts the jitters up me.”

Healey snickered.

“We’ll need to test them but not tonight,” Crouch said. “First we need a plan that centers round getting in and finding that treasure without being spotted.”

“Steal it from under their noses?” Healey’s eyes shone with excitement.

Russo stole his thunder. “Steady on, kid. We can’t lug an entire treasure trove out on our backs.”

Crouch grinned. “Maybe we can. We got into this for the action and the adventure, right? Well, let’s have a little of both.”

“I’m up for it,” Healey declared.

“We sure have the edge on technology,” Caitlyn said with a touch of irony as she stared through the holes in the fence.

“This boundary.” Alicia generally indicated the fence that stretched as far as they could see. “Is it self-proclaimed?”

Boots stared uncomprehending.

“I mean, do they own the land?”

“I guess so. But who really knows? The government build these fences all over our state, and Arizona and Nevada. Pop up like newborns they do, hush hush secret. A private military base, a so-called research center. A black site. You know how many of them are out there? One day you can walk along a path, the next you’re told to turn back or get shot. They can do that. Should they be able to do that? I don’t think so.”

“Then what you’re saying is the High Desert Militia popped up out of nowhere a few years ago and nobody knows if they’re here legitimately?”

“That means,” Crouch pointed out. “That we wouldn’t be trespassing on private property if and when we cross that fence.”

“P’raps,” Boots agreed. “But ain’t nobody that’s bothered about it been tough enough to ask ‘em.”

Alicia turned to her team with a smile. “Well, my friend, that’s about to change.”