Ramsey's Gold

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“They did what?” Spencer demanded.

“I just got back from the other waterfall. I was going to suggest we move the camp tomorrow morning, because it would be dark by the time we made it if we tried tonight,” Drake explained.

“You were just there?” Allie demanded, surprised, her tone skeptical.

“Yup. Or close enough.”

He told them about the shaman and the daughter leading him to the waterfall yesterday, but refusing to go near where they’d indicated Paititi lay. The daughter had stayed with him that night and guided him back to Allie and Spencer the following day after drawing Drake a map in the dirt. He’d tried to convince her to accompany him to the city, but she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to go any farther, and the fear in her eyes had been all too real. She’d drawn more pictures, but these were of hideous creatures, demonic. Even though they didn’t speak a word of the same language, he understood that she was terrified of whatever inhabited the ancient Incan ruins.

“Then you know how to find it?” Allie asked.

“I think so. It may take some doing, but with the GPS we should be able to get there a lot faster. Once we find the other waterfall, which is where I just came from, we follow the river that leads from that one, and when it forks off into a smaller one, we follow that.”

“You can’t see the city from that river?” Spencer asked.

“Apparently not.”

“But the local tribes know where it is?”

“I’m not sure they have any idea what it is. To them, I got the sense that it’s a haunted or forbidden place. The daughter looked like I was trying to get her to eat live scorpions when I wanted her to take me there. She was okay showing me with a drawing, but refused flat out to go anywhere near it. It was apparent they think it’s cursed, or evil. Or some kind of sacred ground they keep secret. I don’t know. Our communication was sign language, and even then, it left a lot to be desired.”

“You say the natives had no modern clothes? No rifles or shoes? Nothing?” Spencer asked.

“No. They looked like they could have been from a thousand years ago. The land that time forgot.”

“Then it’s quite likely they’re one of the Amazonian tribes that’s had no contact with modern civilization. If that’s the case, it would explain why the secret’s still a secret. There’s been no one to tell.”

Drake grew silent, his mind elsewhere as he stared off into the distance, and then he snapped back to the present. “Any signs of trouble here?”

Allie shook her head. “Nothing. So it looks like we’re in the clear.”

“That’s good. Tomorrow, at first light, let’s break camp and head for the waterfall. We’ll be able to make it in a few hours. Paititi will take longer, but by afternoon we should be camped there,” Drake said.

“It’ll take a while to explore if it’s big.”

Drake nodded. “Probably. Although my father had some theories about where the treasure could be located once he found the city. But who knows whether those were accurate or not…”

“So you really think you can find it?” Allie asked.

“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Drake said, confidence in his voice. He still hadn’t put it all together, but he had a good idea that the fabled riches of the Inca Empire wouldn’t be located in an ordinary building. It would be in something that would survive the years. Something that would defy the casual adventurer who stumbled across the city, or any raiding conquistadores. He was sure that if there was a pattern to spot, he’d do so once he had seen the city’s layout.

Which all assumed that the mysterious Palenko hadn’t gotten to it. But Drake didn’t want to get ahead of himself. Based on the legends, there were anywhere from two hundred and fifty to five hundred tons of gold. Not the sort of weight you loaded on a few carts and hauled around the jungle. That meant that the treasure was still mostly, if not all, there.

Drake hoped so. The only wild card was the depictions of the demons his escort had drawn. While they could have been superstitious nonsense, Drake had felt a definite stab of unease when he’d looked into the daughter’s eyes, her expression clearly conveying fear for the first time since he’d seen her.

They sat around the fire munching on fish while discussing the following day. Spencer and Allie had innumerable questions about what he’d seen. Drake did his best to answer them without giving too much away.

When he crawled into his tent for the night, he was tired but at peace, the feeling of having crossed an important threshold while with the indigenous tribe stronger than ever. He had no concrete reason for it, but it was as palpable as the heat.

As his eyes fluttered shut, his imagination filled with visions of the old shaman and his daughter. That now seemed like a lifetime away, and the entire encounter had the aura of a dream, a surreal fantasy induced by the remnants of his fever.

Awa’s radio crackled softly, and after a short discussion, he went to where Vadim and Sasha were sitting, preparing to eat.

“The young man returned. He’s at their camp.”

“What?” Vadim exclaimed with a start, almost cutting himself with his knife.

“He’s there. But it will be dark before we can reach it. What do you want to do?”

Vadim frowned. “This is our chance. I do not want to ruin it by acting rashly. Let me discuss this with my associate.”

Awa nodded and moved back to where his men were cooking the fish they’d speared, leaving the two Russians to scheme in their mother tongue.

“We could wait until they are asleep and then take them,” Sasha suggested. “They are expecting nothing. It is the perfect time.”

“Perhaps. But also it introduces the possibility that the young Ramsey decides to emulate his father and go to his grave without disclosing his secrets.”

Sasha gave him a lupine smirk. “I can be very persuasive.”

Vadim didn’t comment. He had every faith in Sasha’s abilities. He’d watched him torture enough prisoners during difficult interrogations to know his skills were formidable. But even so, they hadn’t been sufficient to convince the elder Ramsey to capitulate, and he didn’t want to take the chance that the son was made of the same stuff as his father.

His stare moved to the fire, and he seemed to drift away before returning his attention to Sasha.

“At this moment they believe that they are in the clear. And so they will continue their search. To allow them to do the hard work is the smartest — wait until they find Paititi, and then move in. At that point they will be of no use to us any longer, and we can end their troublesome existences with a bullet and conclude our unhappy business with them.”

“True. All we have to do is remain undetected.”

“Which we have easily done for days. We will watch, and they will lead us to city, and then we will dispatch them. It is cleaner this way.”

“Agreed. Although I would like a day or two with the girl before we kill her. I hate to see her go to waste,” Sasha said with an ugly smile.

“Ah, of course. If you have no objections to sharing, I think this can be arranged,” Vadim confirmed.

The two Russians laughed together, and Vadim removed a small metal flask from his pocket and took a long pull from it before passing it to Sasha. “A little celebratory vodka, da?”

Sasha took it and held the container aloft in a toast. “Na Zdorovie. To a better tomorrow.”

Vadim studied his charred slab of fish and swallowed hard.

“After this, I never want to eat fish again. I have had my fill of seafood. Enough to last a lifetime.”

“What do you think the odds are that Palenko left a trail we can follow?” Sasha asked, his voice quiet.

“There is no real way of knowing. He was a lunatic. Perhaps he stayed in Paititi and died there. But what I do know is that once we have found the city, we are much closer to finding him and his ore, and getting our lives back.”

Sasha nodded. “And the rumored riches?”

“If we locate the Inca gold, as the Americans say, it is icing on the cake. Nobody else need know.”

“It would be a wonderful problem to have, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed it would. Now stop hoarding the vodka.”

Sasha passed him the flask. Vadim swallowed another large gulp before capping it and slipping it back into his pocket.

Sasha finished his fish and sat back. “Twenty years. A long time.”

Vadim shrugged. “Over and done with. What is that annoying American saying? All is well that ends well.”

“For us, anyway.”

Vadim stared at the guides, who would also be meeting their fate when they found Paititi. They wouldn’t need the natives any longer, and planned to execute them at the first opportunity. Then it would be just the two of them, with their support a satellite phone call away.

“To the victor goes spoils, nyet? Now let us get some sleep before the infernal rain starts again. Ahead of us, we have a big day,” Vadim said, the alcohol and a full stomach making him drowsy.

“We do indeed. For the Americans, perhaps, their last day on earth,” Sasha said with a malevolent grin. “Which I will do my best to ensure is also their worst.”