The Emerald Scepter

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The odd-looking convoy wound its way through a series of linked valleys, snaking between scraggly hills, eventually breaking out into countryside that was open and relatively flat. The antique Cadillac was in the lead, its convertible top down. Amir was behind the steering wheel. He had insisted that Hawkins ride beside him. Cait sat in the back seat. Next in line was the DPV, and then came the troop carrier and the Russian jeep.

Amir had quizzed Hawkins about his stiffness of leg.

“Got too close to an IED,” Hawkins said. “Crude but effective. The crew at Walter Reed patched my leg back together, more or less.”

“We may have had the same doctors at Reed. They reassembled my body parts after I failed to outrun a Russian rocket.”

“You must have been in the hospital a long time to pick up that American accent,” Hawkins observed.

“Several months, but I also spent a year studying at Georgetown University while I recuperated.”

“Is Georgetown your connection with Dr. Everson?”

“Indirectly, yes,” said Cait, who had been listening to the conversation.

Amir glanced in the rear-view mirror. “I’ve been looking at the vehicle your friend is driving. It looks very utilitarian.”

“It is. Fast, too.”

“This car too is fast. I’ve replaced the original V-8 engine with a much more powerful one. The suspension and wheels have been strengthened and the tires customized to allow for higher speeds, especially on rough terrain.”

“I’ll bet you it still isn’t as fast as the DPV, even with the load the buggy is carrying,” Hawkins said. He regretted the comment the second it left his lips. Amir didn’t seem to be the type who would turn down a challenge, even one that was only a figure of speech. He was right.

“The wager is accepted,” the warlord said.

Hawkins stalled. “We haven’t agreed to the stakes.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Amir said. “Please hold tight, Dr. Cait.”

Then he nailed the gas pedal.

The two-ton touring car didn’t exactly accelerate with a whoosh, like a later model high-performance car would have done. The heavy body seemed to be waiting for the engine to persuade it to pick up speed, which it did gradually, as befitting its dignity, and quickly gained velocity. They were emerging from the valleys and the terrain was changing into an arid, grass-covered plain that allowed for faster driving.

Hawkins checked the car’s speedometer. The needle was at seventy miles per hour. The Caddy was leaving a thick brown rooster tail a hundred yards behind it.

“Cal’s not going to like breathing dust,” Hawkins yelled at the sheik.

In reply, Amir grinned and pushed the car’s speed up to eighty, but the smug smile left his face after a quick glance in the mirror revealed a pair of halogen headlights close on his tail. He gave the touring car another ten miles of speed. The headlights disappeared, only to reappear a second later off to the left as the desert vehicle emerged from the cloud.

Calvin was hunkered down low behind the wheel. Abby held onto her cap with one hand and the underside of her seat with the other.

Amir depressed the gas pedal to the floorboards, but Calvin paced them for a moment. Then he gave a wave, and passed as if they were in reverse, enveloping the Caddy in a cloud of dust.

Amir shouted something that Hawkins didn’t understand. He pointed ahead and stabbed the air with his forefinger.

“The lake! The lake!”

Cait bent forward and yelled in Hawkins’ ear. “Make them stop, Matt, for Godsakes! The lake is just ahead.”

Hawkins knew that Cal would try to put as much distance as he could between him and the touring car just to rub it in. He had no walky-talky or telephone to warn of the impending disaster. He reached over and brought his palm down on the horn pad at the center of the steering wheel.

There was a loud, clarion beep.

He slammed the horn again, producing a quick beep, followed by two more, then three long, then three short. He repeated the SOS call again. Amir was slowing, but the dust was still thick and Hawkins had no idea whether he had been successful or not. Amir carefully braked to a complete stop.

Cait had a shell-shocked expression on her dust-smudged face. Hawkins rose from his seat and looked over the top of the double-glass windshield.

A slight breeze blew the curtain of dust aside to a point where it was opaque rather than solid. Hawkins could see the outline of a solid shape a few dozen feet ahead.

He got out of the touring car and strode to the driver’s side of the dune buggy.

Calvin sat back with his feet up on the dashboard. He and Abby were covered with dust, but they were laughing hilariously.

“About time you showed up,” Calvin said. “What’s with the Mayday?”

“Did you need a rescue?” Abby chimed in.

Hawkins spit out a mouthful of dust.

“Nope. You did. You were about to pull a Thelma and Louise.” He pointed ahead. The dust was settling and they could see the edge of the cliff around thirty feet from the front bumper of the desert vehicle, and the blue waters of the lake beyond.

Calvin leaned on the steering wheel.

“Man-oh-man. The DPV would have sunk right to the bottom.”

“Along with Fido and months of research.”

“Uh-oh,” Calvin interrupted, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Hope your pal isn’t a sore loser.”

Amir was walking toward the vehicle with an escort of armed guards. Cait had gotten out of the car and tailed behind. Amir had a deep frown on his face as he circled the desert vehicle, tapping the tires with his cane, but when he came back to the driver’s side he flashed a smile.

“How much do you want for this wonderful chariot?” he said.

“Sorry, but she’s not for sale.” Calvin figured his answer was too abrupt, so he said, “But I can let you drive her.”

“It’s a deal. I will hold you to your offer when we have more time. Now let me show you the lake.”

He hobbled to the ragged edge of the cliff and swept his cane in the air like a tour director for Cook’s. The top of the bluff sloped down at a forty-five degree angle to meet the calm water twenty feet below. The lake was around two miles long and a mile wide, narrowing somewhat near the middle to give it the distinctive figure eight-shape Hawkins had seen in the satellite photos. A line of white cliffs was visible on the opposite shore.

Hawkins shielded his eyes against the sun glare. “The Valley of the Dead,” he murmured.

“Yes, that’s right,” Amir said. “It is still called that even though the valley was flooded decades ago by artesian wells. How did you know its name?”

“I read Dr. Everson’s research paper.” Hawkins pivoted on his heel and gazed at the rocky hill shaped like a camel hump. “That’s the land mark you mentioned, Dr. Everson. Which means the treasure cave should be under our feet.”

Cait clapped her hands lightly.

“Bravo, Mr. Hawkins. If you were my student I would give you an A. But actually, the cave is about two dozen paces in that direction.”

Cait led the way to the metal cover, which Amir’s men moved aside. Hawkins knelt at the edge of the opening and winced at the foul exhalation. He could see timbers set around the walls near the top.

“Kurtz’s mine shaft?” he asked Cait, who knelt beside him.

“I believe so. I explored it a few days ago. It’s flooded at the bottom where the restraining timbers caved in. I found evidence that a diver might have died in the cave-in.”

Hawkins brushed some rocks from the edge of the shaft and counted the seconds until he heard the echoing splash. “Deep,” he said. “Why would Kurtz go through the trouble of digging this hole when his diver could have gone into the lake and found the cave entrance?”

“I’m hoping you and your friends will soon answer that question,” Cait said.

“Unfortunately, I can’t allow them to proceed with the treasure hunt, Dr. Cait,” Amir said.

“What are you saying, Amir? We’re on the verge of one of the most important historical finds of the century.”

“The historical significance hasn’t escaped me. But we’re talking about the possibility of a fortune falling into the wrong hands.”

“But that’s why these people are here. To keep it out of the wrong hands. Do you want the Taliban or some other terrorists to get their hands on it?”

“No, of course not. No offense, Mr. Hawkins, but I consider the Americans as just another occupation force in a long line of foreigners who have taken over our country for their own purposes. When I fought the Russians, it was to have an Afghanistan for our people alone. Why should I allow you to take the treasure or allow it to go to the corrupt people in Kabul?”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Hawkins said. “But if you feel that way, why did you show us the lake?”

“We share a common goal to keep the treasure out of the wrong hands. The unanswered question has to do with the ultimate ownership of the treasure.”

“Where would you like it to go?”

“To a place where it would benefit the people of my country.”

Hawkins thought about it, then said, “Maybe I can offer an enticement to change your mind.”

The sheik pinioned Hawkins with his eagle gaze. “Go ahead,” he said.

“The treasure’s last owner of record was Prester John. Its intended destination was the Vatican. It’s in Afghan territory. So the ownership seems to be in some dispute, although I’d lean toward finders-keepers. My mission is to find the treasure so it can’t be used by terrorists. The treasure’s ultimate fate is immaterial to me.”

“Then you’d turn it over to me? No conditions?”

“If it’s found on your territory. Yes. No conditions.”

“I’m glad to hear that is your position, because if not, I would have to take it away from you at gunpoint. You have my permission to go ahead.”

“Thank you, Amir,” Cait said. It would embarrass the sheik if she showed her thanks with any type of physical display so she instead threw her arms around Hawkins. Hawkins had no such reservations, and reciprocated her embrace. Then he caught Abby’s glare.

The stony expression on Abby’s face suggested that he had missed some signals, and despite her detached manner she retained more than a little affection for him. Or, if he were cynical, it was only her natural competitiveness. He was relieved a moment later when Cait went over and hugged Calvin, then Abby.

Hawkins glanced at the position of the sun in the western sky and turned to Amir. “We could move faster if we had a hand unloading our gear.”

“Done.” Amir relayed a series of commands.

Hawkins went around to the rear of the dune buggy and undid the bungee cords and ropes. He carefully peeled back the dust-covered tarp and he and three other men lifted the submersible and placed it near the edge of the cliff on a line with the mine shaft.

The claw-like caliper had been packed separately, as had the computer used to communicate with the submersible. While a portable generator charged Fido’s batteries, Hawkins reattached the manipulator and he and his crew lowered the docking station at the end of its cable down the slope of the cliff into the water.

Calvin and his crew cleared the gear off the side carriers. Abby directed the placement, stacking the equipment in order. Food, water and other supplies. Dive gear. Gas generator. Calvin moved the lockers containing his arsenal on his own, placing them in one of the three pop-up tents that had he and Hawkins had erected.

Within an hour, they had established a search and salvage operation at the edge of the lake.

Amir circled the submersible, much as he had the desert vehicle, asking incisive questions about its operation. Hawkins explained how the vehicle would be programmed to conduct a search of the slope in a series of parallel lines. Its television cameras would make a visual record of all prominent features and side-scan sonar would probe under the slope. Once the data were analyzed, the dive could get under way.

Amir watched as the AUV was lowered into the lake. It was attached to its docking station to get its instructions and after a few minutes, backed away on its own and submerged.

“Marvelous! What next?” Amir said.

“We wait for Fido to do its job. It will run into the night. We should have a clear picture of the slope by the morning.”

“I have to get back to my village,” Amir said, “I’ll return at dawn. Dr. Cait?”

“I think I’ll go with you. I need to clean up and change.”

Abby noticed the exhaustion in Cait’s face. She said, “If it’s okay with you, Matt, I’ll go with Cait and lend a hand.”

Amir ordered four of his men to remain with the troop carrier. Then he got into the touring car with his two passengers and drove off into the fading light. Dusk was falling and the surface of the lake had gone from glittering silver to pewter.

Hawkins heard the sound of his name. Calvin was stirring a pot on a camp stove and Hawkins’ nostrils almost quivered like a hound’s as his nose picked up a succulent fragrance.

Calvin’s famous New Orleans gumbo.