He studied the camp in the aftermath. The last explosion had been colossal. Flames shot even higher, lighting up the vault of the sky. He threw his shovel down and made to climb out of the hole he’d just joined to Caitlyn’s, preparing to conceal the bodies.
Marco’s spade came up, its broken left edge entangled with some kind of gray rag. Marco flicked it to throw it off, then stopped.
The rag was old, torn, perished. Clearly, it had been ripped off something larger. Marco sank to his knees inside the hole.
“Help me.”
Crouch and Caitlyn leapt over into the void Marco had dug, scrabbling down the slopes. All three of them fell to their knees at the bottom, clawing chunks of solid and bits of gravel out of the way. They could sense it now, sense it coming close. They scraped and tore at the earth, exposing the side of a gray sack, then brought their shovels to bear, scouring away the earth that enfolded its sides.
When it was clear, Marco hefted it, careful to support it with his other hand. Immediately, they could tell that it held several squarish items of varying size and one larger item the shape of a sword.
Marco’s eyes were alive. Crouch grinned at both him and Caitlyn; not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t keep the joy off his face. This was it. The motherlode. The principal treasure of the Manila galleon that had sunk more than a quarter of a century ago off the coast of Acapulco. Here, not five miles distant and in the middle of nowhere, they had discovered Gabriel’s first and final folly.
Caitlyn broke the spell. “You have to check what’s inside. Just look.”
Marco blinked and nodded. There was already an opening where the piece of rag had torn off. Marco peered inside, unable to see much it seemed, because he pushed a hand in and scrabbled about. Crouch watched impatiently. If this turned out to be some old timer’s pocket-watch he was going to be pissed.
Marco held up a small vase, rolling it around in his hands with great care. He followed that with a great chunk of dark green that could only be the purest jade. Even in the dark it glimmered with such magnificence that it took Crouch’s breath away.
There were other riches too—uncut diamonds the size of a man’s fist, gold nuggets, and even more vases. Marco slipped the pointed edge of a sword out of the gap with infinite care. Crouch saw that the sword was tapered at that end and dull, as if badly rusted. It was an odd-looking weapon and quite unmistakable. He couldn’t see any runes but assumed they were hidden under ages of dirt.
“We found it,” Marco breathed. “We finally found it.”
What a voyage this treasure had been on, Crouch marveled. What a journey. And then to lie unseen and mostly forgotten for all these years. This was the moment; this was everything that he loved about treasure hunting. The pleasure of discovery; the moment when something long lost and considered part-myth unveiled before his eyes. He sat back now, marveling, lost in a moment of happiness.
“That’s it?” a voice asked.
Crouch looked up. Ralston and Chase were standing at the edge of the hole, looking down. He was suddenly, achingly aware that he’d left his gun up top when he jumped into the hole, and Marco was regarding him slyly. Caitlyn was on her knees, head down, only now looking up.
“You boys ready?” Marco asked the newcomers.
“Ready to roll.”
Marco held a steady Glock pointed at Crouch’s chest. “Sorry to leave you at the bottom of a hole, but needs must. We still have to disappear. Be happy that I let you live out of respect. And, Crouch, don’t even think about following us.”
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Alicia saw Chase and Ralston standing on the edge of the hole, guns pointed down. She saw Marco climbing out with the gray sack in both his hands. She ran. Cam and Russo were alongside her, Elyse a step behind.
Alicia drew her Glock. Russo had already slowed, preparing to tackle Elyse.
“Whoa!” the American hissed. “I knew nothing about this. The bastards double crossed me too.”
Alicia wasn’t convinced but a quick look at Elyse’s face helped. The woman looked livid. She blasted up the hill at Chase’s blind side and threw her body into his. Together, they both fell forward into the climbing Marco before tumbling down to the bottom of the hole. Russo hit Ralston harder, almost breaking him in two, his momentum sending him tumbling across the top of the hill. Elyse pulled up at the rim of the treasure hole.
Alicia rolled amid a tangle of arms and legs. A knee struck her temple, an elbow slammed her thigh. She rolled right over Marco’s face with a slight smug feeling. The gray sack flew to the other side where Crouch leapt for it.
Guns were lost in the tumble, all scattering down the earthy slope toward Caitlyn, who still knelt at the very bottom, a look of horror on her face as three out-of-control figures crashed toward her.
Caitlyn leapt to her right. Marco crashed into her legs. Alicia beat Chase to the bottom, landing heavily and was then shaken as Chase hit her ribcage. For a second, only light filled her eyes, the radiance of pain, and she gasped for breath. Then Chase moved and she struck out.
Her fist caught his cheek, sending him backward. Marco kicked out at her, catching her nose which had been set from a previous break only two days before she received Crouch’s desperate summons. The nose broke again, making her scream in agony and anger. Fuming, she scrambled over to Marco, jumped full length atop his body and pummeled and wrestled him. They rolled and fought in the earth, dislodging mud, gravel and soil, until Chase came at her blind side.
Caitlyn jumped at him. He elbowed her to the ground. Now, Chase jumped onto Alicia’s back, aiming hard blows at her kidneys and ribs.
Alicia’s vision dimmed.
Cam came slip-sliding down the sharp slope, managed to stay upright, then stomped on Chase’s spine. The man howled. Cam did it again and again until Chase rolled off Alicia and held his hands up.
“No... no more...”
Alicia still couldn’t see properly. Marco was choking her. They were both covered in so much mud they had become the bottom of the hole. Marco was up to his cheeks in dirt, the back of his skull already buried. Alicia pressed down until the soil trickled across his eyes and approached his nose.
A shot rang out. A bullet passed close to Alicia’s head, pounding into the soil. Whipping her head around she looked up and felt the blood drain from her face.
Ah, shit.
Elyse stood up there, a Glock held in two hands, pointing the gun at the bottom of the hole. The woman’s face was dark with rage and tension.
Alicia sat back, holding her hands up as best she could. Marco struggled to pull himself free of the soil. Caitlyn and Chase both collapsed onto their backsides, but the triumphant grin on Chase’s face said it all.
“Treasure is ours,” he said.
Marco struggled to sit up, pushing Alicia out of the way.
“You were going to leave me? Double cross me? After everything I’ve done? After this whole fucked-up enterprise?”
Marco raised his palms to ward off the violent fervor. “No, no... I—”
“Alicia’s plan was that we would meet in Cuesta! We only doubled back here because we cleared out the entire camp.”
“Ah, well, in that case...”
Marco pulled a gun out of the soil, pointing it up at Elyse. Alicia punched him. At the same time, both he and Elyse fired their weapons. Alicia felt the heat of a bullet pass close to her left bicep and saw it continue on into Marco’s throat.
She whirled at Elyse’s cry to see the Englishwoman fall dead as Marco’s bullet smashed through her right eye socket. Marco gurgled as he died, blood pouring into the bottom of the hole right where the gray sack had been buried. Chase stared wide-eyed, up and down as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Russo appeared up top now, clutching a HK semi-auto and training it down at Chase.
“No more surprises,” he said. “Your friend Ralston is dead too. You’re on your own.”
“He’s not dead,” Chase said suspiciously.
“You only tackled him.”
Russo shrugged. “I pack a punch at full pelt.”
Alicia watched Marco’s life slip away, knowing there was no hope for him. It didn’t take long. Soon, his blood had drained into the same hole Gabriel had dug 250 years ago.
Crouch’s urgent tones cut through the shocked aftermath.
“Get moving! They’re getting bored of watching those fires.”
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
In the dark recesses of the night, Alicia and her team made their way west from the enemy camp and back to Cuesta. They carried the gray sack at first, but then transferred its contents to their backpacks. The sword presented a trickier problem, but Russo volunteered to carry it, only dropping it twice and almost landing on top of it once as he slipped and slid up and down the hills.
Hours later, they were back at their car. The early dawn was already creeping up on them, a light mist in the air, the cold predawn chill permeating their bones. The team took several recces as they approached Cuesta but saw nobody following. They’d left Chase behind with his dead friends. Maybe he would make something of himself, maybe not. Alicia guessed he might just join the camp of criminals.
They drove in the warm car, heads far away, each man and woman reflecting over everything that had happened. The treasure fit easily in the trunk. Russo drove them back to Acapulco at a steady pace, coming to a stop in the parking area of the hospital where Duggan was being treated.
“We’re done?” Alicia asked. “I’m getting pressure from the team to join them.”
Crouch nodded. “Again, thanks, Alicia. These missions wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Russo guffawed. “Well put, boss.”
Alicia punched the big man on the arm. “You know you’re gonna miss me.”
“Like herpes,” Russo grumbled.
“Still think I’m a bad guy?”
Russo regarded her. “Even Alicia Myles can change. But if you changed once, what’s to stop you changing again?”
“My friends,” Alicia said. “Drake and the team. You guys. And I like helping good people.”
Russo nodded. “That’s pretty fair.”
“Thank you. Now, give my love to Duggan and keep me informed as to what happens to the treasure.”
Crouch and Caitlyn grinned and hugged her. The last person she turned to was the only person she was unsure of. Cam, it seemed, felt the same, because his face was scrunched in an expression of confusion and uncertainty.
“You’re leaving?”
“My team needs me.”
“I thought this was your team.”
“Nope, not really. I just help them out occasionally. I’m glad to have met you, Cammy.” She held out a hand.
Cam leaned in quickly to hug her. Alicia felt his doubt in the tight grip of his fingers, in his shallow breathing. Cam was still in deep grief over the death of his sister and now the key figure trying to help him cope was about to leave.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“Stay alive.” Alicia pulled away, holding him at arm’s length. “And keep saving lives. Be true.”
“I’d like to keep saving your life.”
Alicia blinked. An unsettling wave washed through her. This was a first. She’d never been asked to physically and mentally support anyone before, and that was what Cam was asking. Her initial instinct was to draw back, to refuse. Her second thought was to let Cam down gently. Even that was a turnaround for her.
But then, if she couldn’t lead yet, if the circumstances weren’t quite right, would helping Cam make her a better, stronger person? She thought that it might.
“Pack our bags, Cam,” she said. “In ten hours, we’ll be saving the world.”
THE END
And that leads us nicely into the brand new Matt Drake, which will be available for the Amazon Kindle in early February 2020. Called THE BLOOD KING TAKEDOWN, it will leave you breathless. If you enjoyed Galleon’s Gold, please leave a review.
And also, if you enjoy my writing, please read on to sample 3 FREE chapters of my 2019 thriller, ROGUE, also currently available for the Amazon Kindle. I hope you enjoy!
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Rogue
(Book One)
By
David Leadbeater
CHAPTER ONE
Nathan picked up the treasurer’s trail the moment he stepped off the bus. The treasurer wasn’t a hard man to spot, being a three-hundred-pound behemoth in a gray Armani suit, sweating profusely and carrying a black briefcase the size of a Labrador. Nathan already knew the principal item nestling inside the briefcase was a state-of-the-art laptop.
What else?
A diary?
His lunch?
A detailed A-Z of every single one of his lady friends?
Through the years he’d developed a way of holding conversations inside his head, to help pass the time. He was used to waiting, to killing the hours, the days and the weeks.
Killing.
Yeah, yeah, funny man. But seriously, you could keep a mini-fridge in that briefcase.
The treasurer struggled with his heavy case, along West 53rd, heading for Hells’ Kitchen. Nathan was well acquainted with the area, despite hailing from England. The last time he’d visited Manhattan had been in 2017, and that job had been tied up within an hour.
This job looked like it was going to take an hour just to reach its first destination.
Nathan settled in for a long haul. Surprisingly, this treasurer didn’t have an entourage of armed guards. He felt safe. No doubt decades of uninterrupted tedium had dulled his senses. Everyone knew him and who he worked for. He kept to the same routines, streets, eating establishments, shops, strip clubs and offices. Of course, he had plenty to choose from. The Five Families Mafia owned a lot of real estate in New York City.
Nathan gripped the straps of his heavy backpack with both hands and started along the opposite sidewalk. A variety of scents assaulted his senses as he passed a row of shops—the heady aroma of fresh coffee, the warm smell of fresh bread, the mouth-watering fragrance of cooked bacon. An unstoppable multitude pounded the streets and filled most of the space before and behind him; men, women and children marching in a herd with the odd individual clad in a suit and tie attempting to barge through because his time was more important.
Nathan walked close to the road, able to navigate around the worst human bottlenecks by nipping into slow-moving traffic. He wasn’t alone. On the other side of the road, the treasurer used his girth to forge his way through, not caring who he jostled or who took a whack from the hefty briefcase. Several people clutched their knees and thighs in his wake.
They stayed on 53rd, crossing Broadway and then 8th. Hotels and eateries, office buildings and shops lay to both sides. The din of human and mechanical traffic was strident, a heavy thunder to the senses. Nathan stayed focused. He found it easy. He’d been doing this for six years.
Doing this?
Killing people. All around the world. I’m an assassin and I work for the British government.
Not exactly.
Well... I do.
Being totally honest, you know MI6 would never sanction some of the crazy things you’ve done.
He shut the internal conversation down. The treasurer looked like he was about to stop. Sure enough, he stepped out of the human flow into a niche between buildings, pulled out a crisp, white handkerchief and mopped his brow. Nathan saw an opportunity, and headed out into the flow of traffic, threading his way across the road, navigating the gridlock of yellow cabs, executive saloons and foolish tourists that chose to drive at this hour.
He was eight seconds too late. The treasurer had recovered his breath, and was now back on the sidewalk. Nathan stayed twenty steps behind, slipping the stiletto blade back into a holster that ran the length of his forearm.
Relax. There’s no rush with this one
.
He’d been given six days for this job. He knew that two other assassins had been assigned similar targets. Between them there were seven treasurers to kill, spread out all over the world, from seven different criminal organizations. Nathan imagined it would cause chaos and bloodshed among the families involved but knew that was far from the only reason his bosses, known as the Hellfire Club, had ordered the hits. He wasn’t certain, but the Three Old Men always appeared to have some hidden agenda for the unfathomable jobs they sanctioned. Questions revolving around the Hellfire Club were manifold, countless, and best left unasked, ranging from the need for and origin of the name to the covert role it played inside MI6.
Not my place to question them.
Especially since all those that have, even top-class assassins, tended to disappear afterward.
This isn’t a questionable hit.
Not like some of the others.
He didn’t like where his thoughts were going. A darkness pooled there that was best left alone.
Further along West 53rd, the eating establishments and shops gave way to the bland facades of office buildings. The tree-lined sidewalks became easier to negotiate as people found their work places and disappeared down to the metro. At the next junction Nathan saw a wine and spirits shop on the opposite corner, a sign advertising an underground parking garage, and a building hidden behind bristling metal scaffolding tubes. The intersection was marked by white lines within which people walked. A woman pushing a stroller. A construction worker swinging his lunchbox. A dirty white truck rumbled by in their wake.
Nathan found himself surprised again as the treasurer headed straight for the spirits and wines shop.
Isn’t he supposed to be working?
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