City of Gold, page 11
Ian feigned interest in the stupid television program, but he was really listening in to what Matthew was saying. The thirteen years between them age-wise was enough to make him view Matthew as a child when it came to world experience, but he had a feeling the kid knew what he was talking about when it came to this Paititi.
Not a second had passed that Ian hadn’t cursed his unconventional means of attempting to secure the Indian idol. He certainly never imagined the kidnapping ending with him headed to the jungle.
Eavesdropping on the three friends discussing the trek made failing Vincent an appealing option. A bullet to the brain, even if preceded by torture, might be better than running into God knows what in the wild terrain of Bolivia.
He glanced over and caught Matthew’s eye.
A dull ache had taken up residence in Ian’s jaw since the man had punched him. Just looking at Matthew conjured feelings of rage. But he’d have to swallow the emotion if he was going to survive this. Based on the way his friends listened to him, and by the way he carried himself, Matthew had things under control, even though the underlying connotation to his words revealed doubt.
Ian had figured this mission was put together in more haste than other excursions Matthew’s team had taken. Recognizing this fact only settled uneasiness and fear into the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to experiencing, and he didn’t like it.
He hated the concept of being immersed in nature. He never liked camping as a kid, and as an adult, he never found a reason to subject himself to a wilderness experience. It was for other people. It didn’t suit him with his expensive taste and love for the finer things. He’d rather stay at a ritzy hotel than rough it in some tent.
“Hey.”
Great, Matthew had made eye contact with him again.
“What?” Ian pulled out the earbuds.
“Since we’re stuck with one another, you guys should know what you’re in for, too.”
Ian didn’t miss the look the woman gave him. It was obvious she didn’t much care whether he or Kevin survived the ordeal or not. Buried beneath a professional job and her prestigious friends, Ian had no doubt that she possessed the ability to kill. The same really went for all three of them, and he’d keep a close eye on them. He was armed, but he suspected they were, as well. There’s no way they would enter the jungle without weapons. Unless he was giving them more credit than they deserved.
“Just talk to us from where we’re sitting,” Kevin said, rubbing at his eyes like a damn baby waking up from sleeping. Being paired with this man was another penance for deviating off course. Never again.
“Just tell us what we’re in for,” Ian said.
“All right, well, you want the Sunday school version? Here it is: Jaguars, alligators, piranhas, pumas, and that’s just a bit about the wildlife. Then you have jellyfish-infested rivers and mosquitoes that can infect you with malaria. You have waterfalls and lagoons. You have steep climbs and then…well, then you have the weather. It can be sunny one moment and you can be freezing from a torrential downpour the next.”
“So basically, we’re headed to hell.” Despite the severity of Kevin’s summation, his tone gave no indication he feared what lay ahead. Ian got the feeling Kevin had done this type of thing before.
“And you’re certain we’re going to find this City of Gold?” Ian asked, testing him. He had heard Cal’s earlier question to Matthew despite his efforts to keep his voice low.
“There are no certainties with this, just as there aren’t with anything else in life,” the woman said dryly.
This was just great. They were headed for godforsaken terrain and he had some bitch preaching about life’s uncertainties. He was the living embodiment of that truth. He just hoped to walk away from it.
-
Chapter Twenty
The plane bucked in the air currents as the pilot brought it in for a landing. Robyn sat there, unable to pry her eyes from Vincent’s men. How dare Matthew get that woman involved with such an important mission? Finding Paititi held the power to transform myth into reality. It had the ability to reshape people’s thinking on the Incas of Peru. And what made for even greater impact, as Daniel had mentioned, was that people would start to believe again. Believe in life, in purpose, that anything they put their mind to was possible.
Robyn had faith that Paititi did exist. Yet so many people had gone in search of it. So many had sacrificed their lives, both in research and actuality. To think that she and her two closest friends were going to make the find moved her on a spiritual level.
With all the reasons to succumb to doubt and fear, she opted to remain positive. No one else had investigated this particular area for the City of Gold before. Others had concentrated their searches on northeastern Peru, close to Cusco. She initially understood their reasoning, but after scrutinizing the different versions of the legends, she saw the potential in where they were now going.
She gave credence to the Incas traveling by means of underground tunnels. It made sense given their mountainous landscape, and they more than possessed the intelligence and expertise to structure such an undertaking.
While the boys slept, she read a letter written by a Catholic missionary that dated back to the early seventeenth century. He spoke of being taken to Paititi and described it as “a ten-day march far away from Peru.” Yet, despite him having provided the location of the city, it lay in obscurity, shrouded behind myth and legend. Allegedly, the Society of Jesus never revealed the location to avoid a gold rush.
Add to that the many accounts that contradicted one another, leading explorers in opposite directions of the Inca Empire. One account even mentioned that Paititi was in the grasslands. This version didn’t resonate with Robyn.
When she consulted the photographs that Daniel’s contacts had taken, though, she saw it. The child inside of her, the one who believed in Paititi’s existence, had sparked to life and sizzled with expectation. There was definitely something under the ground.
The plane touched the runway then, and she took a deep breath.
This is it.
Matthew and Cal stirred awake almost in sync.
“We’re here,” she said, nudging them. She attempted a smile, but the nerves fluttering through her system made it difficult to complete the expression.
“No turning back now.” Matthew’s words mirrored her thinking.
“Are you ready, Cal?” Robyn asked.
Cal stretched, and his six-foot-five frame made it possible for him to touch the cabin’s ceiling without much effort. “Yeah, let’s do this thing.”
They unloaded, and Robyn wished there were some way to ditch Vincent’s men. She didn’t want to accept that she, Cal, and Matthew had ended up caught in that awful woman’s web. A draw remained between Vincent and Matthew, despite his protestations otherwise. Every time Matthew came into direct contact with her, metaphorical brimstone rained down from the sky destroying life as they knew it.
Cal slipped his camera strap over his head, securing his gear. One thing Robyn had learned by being friends with a photographer was that every event belonged on film, or digital file as it was these days.
As they entered the airport, she spotted two Bolivian men holding signs with Matthew’s name scrawled on them. Both men were short in stature and had wide, round faces. Their eyes were dark and deep.
They smiled at the three of them as they approached but then scowled at Ian and Kevin. Robyn knew how they felt. Daniel must have explained the situation when he’d arranged the escort from the airport.
Robyn held out her hand to the man closest to her. “Robyn Garcia.”
“Ah, bonita.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it before flashing a toothy grin. “My name is Juan Sanchez.”
Robyn smiled at him. He wasn’t handsome in a typical sense, but he had a softness about his nature.
“This is Lewis Blanco.” Juan gestured to his companion. Matthew, Cal, and the two Bolivian men shook hands.
“I see you have baggage.” Lewis jerked his head toward Ian and Kevin, who had hung back.
Vincent’s men weren’t talking to each other, and they were facing opposite directions, their energies mirrored. Kevin’s shoulders were relaxed, and his arms hung at his sides. His one thumb was latched on a belt loop. Ian’s jaw was tight, and he tapped his thigh.
“Do you mind if I take your picture?” Cal asked Juan and Lewis while motioning for them to get closer to each other.
“Why not take everyone?” Juan suggested.
“Good idea.” Robyn headed for Matthew, but Juan reached for her arm and pulled her toward him.
“You will stand by me if that’s all right.”
Another toothy grin.
Robyn laughed.
Matthew stood on the other side of Juan, Lewis was to Robyn’s left, and Cal lifted the camera to take the shot.
“No! No! Get one of them to take it.” Juan brushed his hand toward Vincent’s men.
Kevin was staring straight at them now but made no movement. Ian rolled his eyes and trudged over.
“This isn’t an effin’ holiday. Give me the damn camera.” Ian snatched it from Cal’s hands.
“You break that, you son of a bitch, you bought it.” Cal sidled up next to Lewis and threw his arm around the man. “Okay, take—”
“Done,” Ian said.
Cal rolled his eyes. “Again. This time wait for us to smile.”
“For shit’s sake.”
Seconds passed.
“Take the shot. Anytime now,” Cal directed.
“Say cheese.” Sarcasm dripped from Ian’s words. The camera shutter clicked.
Cal snatched his camera back from Ian.
Robyn understood Cal’s hatred for the man. If a touch of humanity didn’t exist within her, she’d be tempted to lose him, and Kevin, out in the jungle somewhere.
-
Chapter Twenty-One
The Bolivians took them to a motel along the highway. Cal was sitting under a covered picnic area and staring at the heavy downpour. His mind was thousands of miles away, back in Canada.
If it wasn’t for him craving excitement and chasing the resultant high like a drug addict, Sophie wouldn’t be in this position. How could he ever forgive himself if she was hurt? Even if her captors never laid a hand on her, she detested confinement. She was surely having waking nightmares without him there to soothe her. He hated that he was responsible.
He gulped some pop, wishing for something stronger. But the real trek would begin at the crack of dawn, and he needed to be in top form.
What Matthew and Robyn didn’t know was he had also researched the area and legends on Paititi. He had even scoured the vicinity on Google Earth. One point was tagged as INTO THE UNKNOWN. That wasn’t reassuring.
He looked at the shared photographs, some of which showed waterfalls and lagoons near where they were headed. Both elements were included in Paititi legend. But that could describe many places in Peru, Brazil, and Bolivia.
But Matthew was right: this was their best bet for bringing Sophie back alive. It was their only bet.
“Mind if I join you?” Matthew was jogging toward him, holding a jacket over his head, which did little to shelter him from the torrential rain. He shook the jacket once he was under the overhang and didn’t say a word as he sat next to Cal.
Both friends sat in silence for a long while with only the sound of the beating rain and the lush smell of greenery as a backdrop.
“You’re thinking about Sophie, aren’t you?” Matthew asked.
“It’s my fault she’s in this position. Hell, it’s why we’re in this position.” Cal squeezed his empty pop can. “If I had just believed her sooner. Maybe we could have gotten the police involved. All this could have been prevented.”
“If you want to fault anyone for this, blame me. I’m the one who offered up Paititi.”
“We’re not thieves, Matt, and I’m not going to prison trying to steal that statue.” His words struck his own ears and hurt his heart. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his freedom for his girlfriend. What kind of scum was he?
“You’re risking even more than prison, Cal. You are putting your life on the line. She’s lucky to have you.”
Cal spun to face Matthew. “Lucky to have me? You’re kidding, right? If it weren’t for all this treasure hunting shit, we’d all be back home doing whatever. It would certainly be a better time than this. I guarantee you that.”
Matthew waited for a few seconds before he spoke. “Listen, maybe none of this is any of our faults. Maybe it doesn’t even matter who’s to blame. We’re in this predicament because… Well, we just are. We do what we’ve come to do. Then we go home and get Sophie.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to, but let’s get it over with.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay? We should hit the sack. Tomorrow starts early.”
Cal nodded and crushed the pop can in his hand even more. He’d have to come to terms with all this somehow. Right now, he needed to see it through and be strong—for his own sake and, more importantly, for Sophie’s.
-
Chapter Twenty-Two
Veronica Vincent was used to getting her way with very little effort on her part. She had employees at her disposal—men who considered it an honor to be at her service. The fact that she paid handsomely may have had some bearing on their attitudes, but she preferred to believe her interest in them was flattering for them.
Before she came into their lives, they were men without a charted course in life. She provided them purpose. In return, she expected—no, demanded—that she be treated like royalty. Whatever she desired was to be delivered with no questions asked. But then there were times in life, like now, where things seemed to enter a twilight zone of sorts, where everything upended.
And she had one person to blame for this—Ian Bridges. She should have known better than to go out of house for this job. Initially, it had seemed like a good thing to do. Matthew wouldn’t identify him as one of hers, but somehow he still managed to call the man out. If only Ian had taken care of things himself.
Now she was imprisoned in Ian’s condo. She was used to her mansion in Manhattan with its spacious floor plan, its vaulted ceilings, and wainscoting, not to mention her grand kitchen. Ian’s scullery, however, was in the space as if it had been an afterthought. While the appliances and counters were top-of-the-line, the size of the room limited her enjoyment. Cooking normally calmed her agitated nerves, but doing so here would likely have the opposite effect.
At least he had a collection of wine and impressive taste. She helped herself to a Ridge Monte Bello red and poured a glass. Swirling it, she appreciated the way the wine coated the glass, and then she took a small sip. It had a robust flavor and woodsy undertones, with hints of plum and peppercorn. Exquisite.
She dropped onto the plush, black leather couch and took in the cityscape. It wasn’t as vast as it was at home, but nowhere compared to New York.
The CN Tower was lit with various colors, traffic on the streets a blur of red and white. Still, as she let her gaze fall over the city, her mind wasn’t on the people below, on the fancies of what they were doing or where they were heading. Her mind was on Ian Bridges.
His previous employer, a man whom Veronica respected for his own tenacity, had praised him, but Ian had failed her thus far, or at the very least complicated the situation. While he was unsuccessful in obtaining what she had originally contracted him for, it was because of him that she was on the cusp of staking claim to something much more valuable.
A smile smeared across her lips before she took another drink of her wine.
Maybe all wasn’t lost. While she’d had a buyer lined up for the Indian statue, his disappointment eased with some expert negotiating on her part regarding the offer of Incan treasure. She had trumped up the sale with the assertion that her team was on the verge of the greatest discovery of humankind. It may be an exaggerated point of view, but she favored optimism. And for good reason. Her entire life had been about getting what she desired, and Ian wouldn’t be the one to teach her the brutal lesson of want.
Without disclosing specifics of the find, she had promised her buyer a pick of artifacts and said she’d extend him a deal. A price was bartered and haggled upon, its value inflated, the price reduced, and everyone walked away pleased. Everyone, that is, except for Ian Bridges. She had Kevin Porter in place to take care of things. He was a cocky son of a bitch, but he was reliable.
She had received his call earlier confirming they had touched down and that so far things were “going.” When she had asked how specifically, he had disclosed Ian’s failure to keep his temper in check and how he had hit one of Matthew’s friends. Rage had fired through her upon hearing the report. Now that she’d had time to absorb the situation, it might not be that horrible.
She had sent him—a city man to the jungle. That in itself was a death sentence. And if nature didn’t kill him, Kevin had his directive. After all, it was a lot easier to dispose of a body in the wilderness than in civilization.
Veronica snapped her fingers, and Don, who was guarding the girl’s door, came to her. “I want you to send out for a gourmet meal. Surely, there’s a healthy restaurant that delivers. Make sure you get enough for the girl, too.”
“You got it, boss.”
She didn’t let her pleasure show but inside her heart pulsated. Being obeyed never grew old. “But before you do that, take a video of the girl.”
