The Lost City

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

It turned out they could trust Lund, and when they failed to check in with their report from Paititi, he arranged for the Peruvian authorities to send rescue choppers out to get them. They also sent a team of archaeologists from the National Museum of Archaeology, Anthropology and History based in Lima.

After a brief handover the ECHO team were airborne once again and flying back to Cusco where their jet was fuelled and waiting for them. Lund had run the situation through what he called his ‘washing machine’ but come up with very little information about Kruger’s whereabouts. It seemed his arms didn’t have quite the same reach as those of Sir Richard Eden. From Saqqal’s bragging back in the volcano they knew they were returning to Rio de Janeiro, but they needed more than that so their only chance was Alex Reeve and her CIA contacts.

Hawke called her on his cell phone but there was no answer, so he left a voicemail message and settled back into his seat while he waited for a reply. He failed in his attempt to suppress a yawn and then pushed back in the soft leather seat of the private jet. According to the little screen on the partition wall, they were climbing out of twenty-thousand feet and somewhere above the Peruvian-Bolivian border. Their bearing was sixty-seven degrees and the ETA was in just under three and a half hours.

Reaper was once again crashed on the leather couch on the jet’s portside, and Lexi, Scarlet and Ryan were playing poker at the table in the rear of the aircraft. It was fairly subdued, but then they got on the subject of SUVs and when Ryan told Scarlet that Pajero meant wanker in Spanish she burst into uncontrollable laughter for what seemed a lot longer than it probably was.

Lea had brought a coffee and sat beside him, but the coffee was in the little cup-holder, untouched and now she was dozing in her seat. For a moment he watched her, wondering how she had turned out so right when everything had been so against her, and then his phone rang.

“It’s me, Joe.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Alex,” he said.

“Yours too,” she replied.

“How’s life in Fort Belvoir Community Hospital?”

“Sucks.”

“Thought it might.”

A long pause.

“Dad just left a few minutes ago.”

“And how many people get visited in hospital by the President of the United States?”

“President-elect, if you don’t mind. He’s not the Commander-in-Chief until he’s sworn in on Inauguration Day.”

“I think it’s a bit late for denial, Agent Nightingale.”

“You may have a point,” she said, and he heard a gentle, sad laugh. “And on that…”

He waited but there were no words. “What is it?”

“Dad wants me to stay here in DC now. It’s confirmed.”

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t know. There were some pretty serious-looking faces behind him when he asked me.”

Hawke nodded gently in the dim light of the Gulfstream, even though she was over three thousand miles away and couldn’t see him. To his right, a sleeping Lea turned on her side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“So am I going to get a tour of the White House or not?” he said. He knew by her tone she had already made up her mind about DC.

“Sure. Well, everyone except Scarlet. No way is she getting through vetting.”

He laughed, and almost woke Lea. “You might have a point there. She’s not exactly Oval Office material. She spent half of today chewing coca leaves.”

“Huh?”

“Long story — listen do you have the information I need?”

“Sure — according to the port authority there’s a Navetta moored in the Rio docks and it’s registered to Kruger Mining Corps. It’s been in the port for over a week so I’m guessing he had his men sail it from Cape Town to Rio in advance with a view to bringing the treasure home after he’d discovered it.”

“He’s a cocky little bastard then, isn’t he?”

“So it would appear.”

“And what about Saqqal?”

“Apart form his Hezbollah stuff there’s nothing on him that could help us here at all. They’re travelling together, if that’s any use, but other than that I got nothing.”

“Great.”

“But Dad greased some wheels in the US Embassy in Brasilia so I think the Brazilians are sorting some back-up for you.”

“All right — thanks, Alex. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She paused before replying. “Sure.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“All right… Joe, listen…”

He was interrupted by Lea. “I have to go, Alex.”

He cut the call as Lea approached. She had her phone in her hand too and was ending a call. “That was the American ambassador in Brasília. Alex worked her magic with her father I guess because he just told me he’s spoken with the Minister of Justice and they’ve sanctioned the use of a BOPE squad in response to the threat posed by Saqqal.”

“BOPE?” Lexi asked.

“Batalhão de Operações Policiais Especias,” Scarlet replied without hesitation. She looked at them. “What?”

“You speak Portuguese?” Hawke asked.

“Oh, God no,” she replied. “Only a couple of phrases.”

“I bet,” Lea said. “Don’t tell me — are there many sailors here? and I’ve never seen this gun before in all my life.”

“I’m going to ignore that slur,” she replied coolly. “BOPE are a counter-terrorism force, sort of a Brazilian SWAT. They’ll be less use than an SAS squad but more use than an SBS one.”

“Piss off.”

“With pleasure.”

“They’re meeting us at the docks, anyway,” Lea said.

“What about Alex?”

“She’s staying in DC for the foreseeable future,” Hawke said with a sigh.

“Lazy cow’s just trying to get out of rebuilding Elysium,” Scarlet said.

Ziad Saqqal pushed back into the jet’s leather seat and closed his eyes as his mind raked over the last few hours of his life. The lethal monster currently squirming around in Jawad’s carry case would bring devastation to the United States and any other country he desired, but first he knew he had to test it — and before he crossed the ocean and went to Africa. He had the perfect place in mind.

“Just make sure it’s nowhere near me,” Kruger said with a grim look at the case.

Saqqal agreed it would be a bad thing to anywhere near it when it was released. Jawad had patiently explained with the quiet blandness of the expert that sixty percent of Londoners were killed by the Black Death in the six months from the autumn of 1348 into the start of 1349. It was total devastation, and without a single sword unsheathed the population of whole nations was decimated. Thanks to old research, most people believed the plague was transmitted from person to person by filthy fleas or rats, when the truth was far darker.

New research of the disease’s vector from the British military science facility at Porton Down in England was pointing to something extremely grim… the plague was passed from person to person by airborne transmission. Yes… a simple sneeze or cough would be enough to pass the plague from you to the next man or woman and so two infected people became four, and four became eight. He smiled at the thought of the Utopia bacteria dividing to grow stronger, and how they used people in the same way, like marionettes to further their own agenda.

Millions of people dying a slow, agonizing death from shock and respiratory failure would be more than enough revenge for him, and the people of Rio de Janeiro would be the first to sample the delights locked away in Dr Jawad’s sweaty grasp. The NBC suits were all they needed to ensure their survival when the horror unfolded, and then they would flee the country on Kruger’s boat.

“Just make sure your boat is ready,” Saqqal said. “Something tells me Rio de Janeiro isn’t going to be a very pleasant place for the next few years.”