The Hunt for Shambhala

14

The long flight over the Bay of Bengal was always turbulent, even in wide-body jets flying at high altitude, but they really felt it in the vintage Grumman Albatross as soon as they crossed into the bay from the Andaman Sea.

They flew through the day and reached their destination just as the sun was setting over southern India, lighting the jowar fields and cardamom groves in a soft orange light. Decker was descending the aircraft now in preparation for the landing at Goa International Airport, and their low altitude gave them a great view of Dabolim as he lined up for the runway. Already the tremendous heat of the land below was filling the unpressurized aircraft.

After clearing customs at Goa and parking up in the airport they took a cab out to Diana Silva’s apartment. No one was expecting any problems because neither Kuan nor anyone else could possibly know where they were, but when they got to the apartment they quickly re-evaluated their complacency.

Diana’s door was smashed in and hanging half off its hinges.

“Oh, crap,” Decker said. Just a quiet cargo business.

The American cautiously pushed open the splintered door and leaned his head inside the apartment hallway. Riley and Charlie were right behind him and Selena was at the back, peering over their shoulders.

The telephone table was on its side and the phone cable had been yanked out the wall with so much force the junction box was hanging halfway off the wall and the wiring inside was exposed.

“Either your friend throws one hell of a party or she’s in trouble,” he said.

Selena cocked her head and stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if…”

“Out of my way,” she said.

She tried to push past him but he extended his arm and stopped her. “Just wait right there,” he said. “Whoever did this could still be inside.”

“He’s right,” said Riley.

“Yes, he’s right,” said a gravelly voice behind them.

They turned to see a tall Indian man standing in the hall with a nasty-looking machine pistol in his large, gnarled hands.

“Oh, bugger…” Charlie said.

“Please…” the man said, and gestured for them to go inside the apartment. “Won’t you come in?”

“Doesn’t look like we have much choice,” Selena said.

“Right again,” the Indian said. “Now let’s hurry it up. Your friend is waiting.”

“If you’ve hurt her, you bastard..!” Selena said.

“Inside, now, and hands in the air.”

They raised their hands and marched inside the apartment with their hands raised above their heads. As soon as they stepped from the hall into the main living space they saw a sorry-looking Diana Silva sitting in her favorite armchair by the window. She was lost among a sea of her belongings, now all smashed up and turned into garbage. Two men in black suits were standing behind her and one of them had a Smith & Wesson M&P 357 pushed into the back of her skull.

“Diana!” Selena said, rushing forward. “Are you all right?”

The Portuguese woman nodded sadly, the tears in her eyes still fresh enough for all to see. “They got here an hour ago. They said they would kill me if I moved from this seat.”

“We’re here now,” Selena said, glancing over her shoulder at the others with fear etched on her slim face.

The tall Indian man lowered himself into the leather chair in the corner, making sure to keep the machine pistol trained on them as he went. “Now we’re all together it’s time to talk business.”

“Who are you?” Decker said.

“They call me Kaleka,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Riley said. “Come here often?”

Selena rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Mr Kaleka?”

“You will hand over Stanhope’s journal immediately or Mukesh here will decorate the kitchen annex with the interior of Miss Silva’s head.”

“You son of a bitch,” Selena muttered.

Riley’s eyes changed from passive to cold steel. “And I was trying to be friendly too.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“To be honest, I’d take it, Selena,” Charlie said.

“Seconded,” Riley said, but Decker said nothing. He just stared at the men with a tight, unshaven jaw and hate in his eyes.

Selena pulled her bag from her shoulder and lowered it to the floor. “It’s in here.”

Kaleka shifted a little in his seat. “If you’re getting a weapon, I can assure you that you will all be bleeding out on this delightful rug before you get your finger on the trigger.”

“It’s not a weapon,” Selena said, pulling out the journal. “Although I’m sure you’ll find a way to turn it into one.”

Kaleka’s eyes lit up like diamonds when he saw the small book at last. “Thank you so very much. When we return to Jambudvipa, my employer will be most pleased.”

“Your employer?” Decker said.

“It is not your concern. Now, my men and I will be leaving with Miss Silva and this journal.”

“Leave her here with us!” Selena said.

“Leave her with the dead?” Kaleka said, and began laughing. “I’m not that wicked.” He turned to the man beside Mukesh. “When we leave the apartment, fill them with bullets and join us outside.”

“If you harm her I’ll kill you,” Selena said. The warning in her eyes was clear.

Kaleka put the journal in his pocket and forced Diana out through the smashed door. Mukesh followed closely behind them. They were only gone a few seconds when the other man raised his machine pistol and aimed it at them.

Selena took a step toward Decker. “You can’t do this!”

A greasy grin spread on the man’s face, and they all saw his shoulders shift into the firing position as he prepared to wipe them all out.

Then he dropped the gun and stumbled back a few steps.

Decker and Selena exchanged a confused glance, and Charlie was none the wiser, but all three saw the blood pumping from his jugular at the same time, and then they saw the blade.

“What the..?”

Riley walked over to the man and pulled the knife from his throat. He turned to his friends and casually wiped the blood off on the dying man’s shirt. He also took his gun. “Learned to throw knives on the station when I was a kid,” he said coolly. He looked down at the man and whistled. “Not the first time it’s come in handy, either.”

“Let’s get out of here!” Selena said. “We can still save Diana!”

They bolted from the apartment and jogged down the steps. On the way down, a visibly relieved Mitch Decker turned to Riley. “You were in the police?”

“Eh?”

“You said station back there.”

“He means farm,” Selena said. “It’s how they talk in Australia.”

Decker nodded. “Grew up on a farm, huh? My grandparents had a farm in Jefferson County. How big?”

“Nine thousand.”

“Nine thousand acres?”

“Nine thousand square miles.”

“Huh? That’s bigger than New Jersey!”

“You should try weeding it,” Riley said with a wink as they finally got outside into the Goan dusk. “There they are!”

“Where?”

“There!”

Kaleka and Mukesh were dragging Diana over the road toward the beach.

“Bastards!” Decker said.

They sprinted away from the apartment complex and headed toward the three figures, now turned into silhouettes by the low sun over the water beyond them. All around them the busy Goan nightlife was starting to buzz as thousands of locals and tourists went about another night of hedonism without the vaguest notion of what was unfolding right before them.

“They’re slipping out of sight!”

“If they have a boat waiting I think we’ve lost her, Lena!”

Clambering down over the dunes they pushed past a group of European tourists who were standing in a circle and lighting enormous joints beside a beach hut bar.

“Where are they?” Charlie said.

Decker and the others scanned the beach for any sign of their friend.

“Shit! We’ve lost them!” Charlie said.

“Bullshit,” Riley said. “Keep looking!”