The Lost City

CHAPTER THREE

“I thought this place was supposed to be sunny?” Hawke said as he opened up the umbrella he’d bought in the airport. People were bustling all around them as they made their way along Brickell Avenue until they reached the address Lund had given them.

They crossed the lobby and took the elevator to the top floor. When the doors slid silently open they revealed a hardwood corridor bereft of decoration. They stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the only door, and Lea tapped gently on the panelled wood.

“Enter.”

They walked into a large light-filled space and took in the opulence. It was postmodern in style, and expensively decorated with abstract art and sculpture, and on the floor was an enormous ushak rug. Behind the desk, a man in a sober suit but no neck tie flipped his laptop screen down and looked up at them. His face was lean and he wore a pair of frameless glasses.

“Good day — please take a seat.”

They exchanged a glance and did as he asked, each taking a comfortable leather seat opposite his big desk.

“I’m Magnus Lund. Would you like coffee?” he asked.

“Not for me,” Scarlet said, peering around the room for a drinks cabinet.

“I don’t mind if I do,” said Hawke, trying to get the measure of the man.

Lea smiled at him. “I’d love one, thanks.”

Lund spoke in Danish into the intercom on his desk and then returned his attention to the five ECHO members sitting opposite him.

“Out with it then,” Hawke said.

Lund stared back at him, expressionless. “Out with what?”

“Who are you?” Lea said.

“I already told you, my name is Lund.”

“Yeah, we got that part,” Hawke said. “I meant, who are the Eden Consortium?”

“Of course you did,” Lund said, smiling. “The Eden Consortium was established by Sir Richard to provide funding to run the fun and games you have down in the Caribbean.”

“Fun and games?” Hawke said. “We’ve lost some good people.”

“My apologies — a poor choice of words on my part. I mean to say only that we are a small group of international backers with a similar worldview. After the attack on the island and the hospitalization of Sir Richard we convened at once and I have asked you here to express our sympathies.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Hawke said sarcastically. “But what’s the real reason we’re here?”

Lund gave Hawke a thoughtful look and leaned forward closer to the desk. He rested his elbows on the desktop and then steepled his fingers. “I see you are an astute observer of human nature so let me get right down to it. Sir Richard is in a coma, but that doesn’t mean we’re off the job. A few hours ago a museum in Colombia was raided by three masked men.”

“Sounds like trouble,” Scarlet said, lighting a cigarette before the sentence had even left her mouth.

“Yes, but what sort of trouble?” Reaper asked.

Lund leaned back into his chair, his face draining of what little color it had. “You might recall a galleon that the Colombians discovered off their coast last year?”

Hawke nodded. “The San José?”

Lund nodded.

“I remember that,” Scarlet said. “They just brought a shit load of treasure up out of it and carted it off to a museum in Cartagena.”

“Gripping stuff,” Hawke said.

“But where’s the trouble?” said Lea.

“As I said, the museum just got raided by a group of highly professional men.”

Hawke sat up in his chair and looked at him sharply. “Treasure hunters?”

“They weren’t looking for ice creams, Joe,” Scarlet said with a sigh.

“We don’t know who they were,” Lund said coolly.

“You know, I’m not sure if I can bring myself to give a shit about any of this,” Lea said in response. “Not any more.”

Lund looked at her sharply but it was Hawke who answered. “We owe it to Maria, Ryan and Rich to give a shit,” he said firmly. “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. What I want to know now is — who raided that museum and why?”

Reaper shifted in his chair and gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. “And what did they take?”

“That’s easy,” Lund said. “It’s not public knowledge but I have my contacts. They stole only one item.”

This captured everyone’s attention, even Scarlet’s, and now they were all fixing their eyes on the sombre Dane.

“Only one item?” Hawke said.

“What was it?” asked Lexi.

“Something that was discovered in the hoard in the wreckage of the San José — a small golden mask.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Lea said.

“Exactly what I’m thinking,” said Lexi.

Hawke stood up from his seat. “Any more details on this mask?”

Lund sighed. A bridge of trust had not yet formed between them but he had no choice. “The Mask of Inti is an ancient Incan facemask made of pure gold which depicts Inti, the Incan god of the sun. Believed by many archaeologists to have been merely a legend until recently discovered on the wrecked ship, the mask is supposed to hold a clue leading to the…” He stopped talking and studied their faces for a few moments. The atmosphere in the plush office was tense and awkward.

“Leading to where?” Lexi asked.

“Yes, don’t keep us all in suspenders, dahling.”

“There are few details, naturally — the Incas never left written records as far as we can tell, but my contact in Colombia, a Héctor Barrera, believed that there was some kind of legend saying that the mask would lead the bearer of it to the Lost City of the Incas.”

“The Lost City of the Incas?” Lea said.

“Yes,” Lund said curtly. “Paititi.”

“I thought that was just a…” Hawke said.

“Just a what?” Lund said.

“I was going to say just a myth, but then I realized that being just a myth doesn’t mean much anymore.”

“No,” the Dane replied flatly. “People have sought the Lost City for literally hundreds of years, but every expedition has ended in total failure, and very often the deaths of those taking part. The main problem was always a lack of reliable information detailing its location, but now it looks like there might be a new lead.”

“The mask?” Lea asked.

“Yes. According to Professor Barrera, there were legends about the Mask of Inti pointing the way to Paititi, but the truth is until we found the San José off the coast, the mask itself was no more than a legend.”

Lea sighed and fixed her eyes on Lund. “And this Barrera is certain the mask is the real deal — the genuine Mask of Inti?”

Lund nodded slowly. “Of that there is no doubt. He had a short time with the artefact before the raid, and was most certain of its authenticity. It was found with a number of other items on the San José that he was sure were once part of the famous Lost Treasure of the Incas, and he was the very best. We can be certain we’re looking for the genuine article.”

“He was the very best?” Hawke asked.

Lund’s face turned into a stern frown. “I’m afraid he was shot by the looters in the raid and rushed to hospital, but he was dead on arrival.”

“Do we have any leads?” Reaper asked. He knew they all felt the same thing he did — that the one person they needed more than anyone just wasn’t here anymore.

“That is where you come in,” Lund replied. “I have arranged for you to meet with a Professor Meier in Cartagena. He holds a senior position at the museum that was looted and has more details of the raid.”

“Looks like we’re off again,” Scarlet said.

“And soon,” Lund replied. “You’re meeting Meier later this afternoon so I suggest you fly immediately.”

And with that, they were on their way.