The Prisoner's Gold

12

After spending the last few days immersed in their tasks, the group reconvened in the war room for a short briefing. It had only been three days, but everyone looked noticeably tired.

Papineau had been locked away in his office for most of the time. He claimed he still had a business to run and needed to check on several deals so he could finance the mission. Cobb suspected the man had other ambitions, but he allowed the Frenchman his privacy.

Sarah had been looking into escape routes and shipping options throughout most of the Pacific Rim. If they located the treasure inland, she would have it moved on trucks, which were more versatile than trains and less regulated than planes. All they would need to do was transport the trove to the coast, and from there she could get it out of Asia on a freighter.

McNutt had been on the phone almost constantly, joking and laughing with his overseas connections one minute and then speaking so softly he couldn’t be overheard the next. He was paving the way for possible weapons deals in several countries, and that required a certain amount of finesse. Even though he was frustrated that he couldn’t complete any of the deals without a destination, he told the team that laying the groundwork would be fruitful.

Once the team was seated around the computer table, Cobb addressed the group. ‘I know these last few days have been a grind for all of us — particularly for Maggie and Hector, who have lived in this room since Monday. Thankfully, our hard work is about to pay off.’

Cobb nodded at Maggie, who was still sore from their sparring session. He had worked her over pretty well, but she had managed to pass his test. She stood up slowly and made her way to the front of the table. Then she gestured to the massive screen that filled the wall behind her.

‘With Hector’s assistance, I was able to translate and analyze Rustichello’s journal,’ she said as a drawing of Rustichello appeared on the screen. ‘He was obsessed with ferreting out details of Polo’s treasure and, even though he was an older man at the time of their imprisonment, he planned to mount an expedition of his own to recover the Polo fortune. According to his notes, he subtly prodded Polo for details about the riches the merchant had accumulated on his journey. But Polo was cagey. Sometimes he would feign exhaustion to avoid answering certain questions. Other times he would talk in riddles that could be interpreted in multiple ways. Still, Rustichello gleaned some things from their four years together.’

‘Enough to find the treasure himself?’ Sarah wondered.

‘Yes and no,’ Maggie answered. ‘Rustichello narrowed down the possible locations of the treasure, but after being released from prison he fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. He never got around to mounting his expedition.’

‘So the treasure might still be untouched,’ Garcia added.

Maggie nodded. ‘Unfortunately, the location that Rustichello suspected is rather vague. It’s a lake called Lop Nor in northwest China.’

Garcia tapped a key on his keyboard. The drawing of Rustichello shrank in size and was bumped to the corner of the screen by a large map of China.

Maggie continued her lecture. ‘Although “Lop Nor” is not mentioned by name in the manuscript, Polo referred to it as the “lake that cannot be found”. Thankfully, this was a phenomenon that I was familiar with. The river that feeds Lop Nor has been known to change positions, so the lake has literally moved over time. Polo repeatedly described Loulan — an ancient city near the lake that was abandoned several hundred years before his arrival — to Rustichello in amazing detail. For some reason it had a special place in Polo’s heart, but he refused to mention why. At first Rustichello was annoyed by Polo’s repeated tales about this abandoned city in the desert, but after a while he began to suspect there was a reason for them.’

‘Rustichello thought the treasure was buried there,’ Sarah said.

Maggie nodded. ‘It was at the top of his list.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’ McNutt asked.

‘Two reasons,’ Garcia answered. ‘Number one, it’s located in a remote part of China with virtually no passable roads. The terrain is barely navigable, plus the area is subjected to frequent wind and sandstorms. It’s so grim it’s known as a “dead zone”.’

‘Sounds like Cleveland.’

‘The area used to be a nuclear test site ages ago, but the military has long since abandoned it. The only thing out there now is a mining operation, and that’s twenty miles away. Any satellite intel that I have is several years old. Nothing military has bothered to pass over this region in a decade.’

McNutt grimaced. ‘All of that was one reason? What the hell is number two?’

‘The second reason is even worse,’ Maggie admitted. ‘The Chinese sent an archaeological team to Loulan in 1979, and they thoroughly excavated the site.’

‘Well that sucks,’ Sarah grumbled.

Papineau tried to lift her spirits. ‘It’s not the kiss of death, though. The city of Alexandria had been picked clean for centuries, but we still found what we were looking for.’

Sarah nodded. ‘Good point.’

Cobb glanced at Maggie. ‘Any other potential leads from the manuscript?’

‘Unfortunately, no. Rustichello never got specific details on the size of the treasure, why Polo didn’t return with it, or exactly where Polo left it. All we have are his suspicions, probabilities, and guesses. But he liked Loulan as the site.’

Cobb had been led to believe that this meeting was necessary because they had encountered some good news. Now he wasn’t so sure. ‘That doesn’t leave us much to go on.’

‘Not from the manuscript,’ Maggie admitted. ‘But there is more — thanks to Hector.’

Garcia puffed up slightly at the praise, then ran his fingers across his keyboard as the giant screen came to life. It showed an overhead view of Genoa on the northern coast of Italy. The satellite view resembled a plot of concrete acting as a barrier between the blue of the sea and the green of the foothills to the north that marched up to the Alps.

‘As you know,’ Garcia said, ‘Polo and Rustichello were held captive in Genoa for four years, but little is mentioned of their imprisonment in The Travels. Most publishers rightfully assumed that people would be far more interested in Polo’s journey to Asia than his time in prison. And yet a few editors disagreed. One bit of trivia that appeared in a few translations of the book was the names of their captors.’

‘And that helps us how?’ Papineau wondered.

‘Go on, Hector. Tell them what you found,’ Maggie said.

Garcia beamed with pride. ‘I learned that two of the guards were illiterate, but the third was decidedly not. While Rustichello was recording the details of Polo’s adventures, the third guard, Giovanni Ravio, spent much of this time compiling an elaborate diary of his thoughts. His son, Luca Ravio, became a poet of some note at the time. And Luca’s collection, including his father’s journal from the days he worked at the prison, made its way to a private collector, and eventually to a museum in Florence.’

Garcia touched a key, and the display scrolled southeast, a third of the length of Italy from Genoa to Florence, then it blurred briefly before zooming in on the red-tiled roof of a U-shaped museum building between a river and a cobbled plaza.

Sarah recognized it at once. ‘That’s the Uffizi Gallery. It’s one of the most celebrated galleries in the world. If Luca’s collection is displayed there, he really was famous.’

‘Maybe so,’ Garcia said. ‘But as far as we can tell, no one has ever connected the poet’s father with Marco Polo.’

Cobb smiled. ‘You think Giovanni wrote down information we could use?’

‘The guards were torturing Polo,’ Maggie stressed. ‘According to Rustichello, Polo’s muffled screams could be heard throughout the building. It stands to reason if Polo ever slipped up and declared the location of the treasure, it would have been under duress.’

Cobb nodded in agreement.

He was familiar with the effects of torture.

‘Okay,’ Cobb said, ‘we’ll need time to prepare for either possibility. Sarah, you’re in charge of the Italian job. Figure out what you need to retrieve the journal.’

‘I saw that movie,’ McNutt joked. ‘All she needs is Mini Coopers.’

Sarah laughed at the reference.

‘Meanwhile,’ Cobb said, ‘Josh and I will take a rekky to Loulan. We need some boots on the ground to determine the feasibility of the site. While we’re gone, everyone should continue to prep for both countries: Italy and China. Regardless of what we find in Loulan — unless we find the treasure itself — we’ll go to Florence first, so Sarah can steal the guard’s memoirs.’

‘Steal? I don’t steal,’ Sarah argued. ‘I’m not a thief!’

‘But you can get the book, right?’ McNutt asked.

Sarah nodded, but concern filled her face. ‘Truth be told, I’m one of the few people in the world who can. But this is going to be tough.’

‘Tough?’ McNutt blurted. ‘You’re going to a museum in Florence. I’m going to a former nuclear test site in China called “the dead zone”. Would you like to trade?’

Sarah smiled and patted him on the back. ‘When you put it like that …’

McNutt growled softly. ‘Yeah. Didn’t think so.’