The Hunt for Shambhala

EPILOGUE

Riley Carr was celebrating the success of the mission by sipping a cup of coffee in the departure lounge of Kolkata Airport, and Selena was doing the same thing right beside him. Diana was pushing Charlie over to their table in a temporary wheelchair. The former RMP soldier and grifter was lucky to be alive after the gunshot wounds he had sustained, but even now he was still smiling, and holding two steaming cups in his hands.

After they had bid their farewell to Arjun Johar at the debriefing in the city they were free to go, and now Charlie and Diana joined Riley at the table but Selena rose to her feet and gazed out the window down the runway.

Riley sighed and grinned. He was feeling in a good mood. Vòng was dead, Kuan and Madan were both in an Indian prison awaiting trial on terrorism charges, and he had Vedika Jha’s telephone number in his pocket. Better than that, Diana had just heard from the Portuguese authorities — her parents were safe and Madan’s men were under arrest.

Now he turned to Selena and winked. “Why don’t you just go and ask him?”

Selena’s eyes were fixed outside as she scanned the private aircraft area of the airport. “Ask who what?”

“Even Blind Freddy knows what’s going on, Lena.”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Charlie and Diana exchanged glances but said nothing, preferring instead to stay out of it and enjoy their last coffees before taking off and flying out of the city.

“Come off it, Lena. Just go and ask the bloke.”

“Ask who what?”

Riley rolled his eyes. “Ask Mitch if he wants to play Indiana Jones with the rest of us instead of flying novelty plastic fried eggs out of Macau for the rest of his life.”

Charlie laughed, and Diana raised an eyebrow. “But I wouldn’t put it quite like that if I were you.”

“I was thinking no such thing,” Selena said turning from the runway and sitting down beside Charlie. “I was merely watching that little plane take off.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. He’s a vulgar, rude, uncouth, arrogant man.”

“Yeah, but enough about Riley,” Charlie said with a smirk. “What do you think about Mitch?”

“Mr Funny Cuts strikes again.”

“Mr Funny Cuts is better than Mr Funny Cats,” Charlie retorted.

“They were Lucky Cats,” Selena said absent-mindedly.

“He’s got a plane,” Diana said.

Riley finished his coffee, yawned and put the cup down. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

“Yes, there is that…” Selena said dreamily. It was infuriating when Riley read her mind like this, but that was part of the reason they were such good friends.

“Seriously,” the Australian said. “Who has their own bloody plane? We could go literally anywhere in the whole world whenever we wanted. The damn thing even lands on water!”

They went outside into the oppressive blazing heat and crossed the tarmac on their way to the parked aircraft — lots of Cessnas, Pipers and Beechcraft, but only one Grumman Albatross, sparkling in the Indian sunshine, a few patched-up bullet holes here and there.

Decker was still working on the Avalon, standing on a ladder and trying to tighten a bolt on one of the portside cowl flaps when Selena approached him.

“Hello again,” she said perkily.

“Hey,” he said without turning around.

“I see you got rid of all the lucky cats,” she said, just trying to make conversation.

“Uh-huh.” He glanced over at her for a second. “Would you believe that out of that entire shipment, just one God-damned cat made it in one piece?”

“Oh.”

“Faulty ceramic.”

“I see. Maybe you could keep him — for luck, I mean.”

“I might just do that.”

“You could call him Rakesh!” She let out a loud laugh but then silenced it when she saw the look on his face. “Perhaps not…” She paused a moment. “I was wondering if I could ask you a question before we go our separate ways?”

“Don’t tell me…”

“Would you like a job, Mr Decker?”

He set the wrench down and stood up. He wiped his hands on the oily rag he’d stuffed down through his belt. “A job, huh?”

She nodded. “If you like.”

“If I like? What does that mean?”

“Well, I…”

“I already have a job.”

“Yeah, we all saw the smashed cats, mate.”

“Shhh, Riley,” Selena said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s just that I wondered if you might like to work for me, rather than do your cat-transporting thing.”

“Hey — I transport more than damned porcelain cats. Avalon Cargo is a dependable company with a great future ahead of it.”

“If you say so.”

“But just out of interest, how much would you pay?”

She fought back the grin that wanted to spread across her face and fixed serious business eyes on him. “Atticus will pay whatever the going-rate is for pilots, of course, plus you’d get the pleasure of assisting the London Museum of Archaeology in its endeavours to acquire ancient relics from around the world.”

“I thought you didn’t like my plane?”

“I’ve grown somewhat fond of it — I mean her over these past few days as a matter of fact.”

He turned and looked out over the vast airfield stretching out north to south ahead of them. Turning to face her he squinted as the sun flashed on the front of the airport building behind them.

“Not just you and me though, right?”

“Oh, good God no,” she said rather too quickly. “I don’t go anywhere without Riley, and of course Charlie and Diana are also pretty keen to sign up and join the fun.”

“Are they now?” he said.

“They are.”

“Looks like you’ve been cooking up quite the stew these last few days.”

“Well — are you interested?”

“I don’t know, but just for once I have a question for you.”

“Fire away.”

“Who the hell is Atticus?”

Riley and Selena shared a quick glance, and then the Australian said, “He’s her old man, mate.”

“My father,” Selena said. “Atticus Moore. He owns the museum in London.”

“He owns a museum?”

“It’s really not very big, but discovering Shambhala will do wonders for our reputation,” she said, and then sighed. “Seriously though — why not? I’m sure working for us would pay better than the cargo business.”

“You can’t be serious? You want me to fly you around the world so you can explore crazy places like Shambhala?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Selena said.

“Gotta be more fun than flying fake plastic turds around Asia,” Riley said.

“It was cats!” Decker said. “I was flying lucky cats, for Pete’s sake.”

“Of course you were, Decks,” Charlie said.

“So are you interested or not, Mr Decker?”

He stepped down the ladder, sighed and pushed the brim of his hat an inch or so up his forehead with a weary forefinger. “I might be, and will you stop calling me Mr Decker. It’s Mitch… and not Decks, either,” he said with a withering glance at Charlie.

Selena, Riley, Charlie and Diana all shared an excited look.

“And no more complaints about the Avalon,” Decker said. “She doesn’t like it.”

“Of course,” Selena said. “It… she… needs a woman’s touch though.”

Decker finished cleaning the grease off his hands. “Good job we have Riley then.”

“Ha fuckin’ ha, mate.”

“So you will?”

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “I still have my business to consider.”

Riley and Charlie high-fived each other.

“I said I’ll think about it,” the American said, seeing the celebration.

“While you’re thinking about it, Mitch,” Selena said. “Could I ask one last favor?”

“Oh, God…”

“It’s just that I’ve always wanted to see the Taj Mahal, and we’re so close.”

“Go on,” Decker said. “Say it.”

She looked up at him, and saw the sunshine light up the silver in his chin stubble. “Just as far as Agra… please?

“All right,” he said with a warm smile. “As far as Agra — but no farther.”