“They plan to return,” Kane said. “Otherwise they would have taken their packs. Which means the journey is less than half a day. They’d want to return before dark, so my guess is their destination is no more than four hours, otherwise they would have brought their supplies down to the ruins.”
“They could have two camps.”
“Possible, not likely. They left food and water here. They have three people—no one to carry extra rations and equipment. Guess? They wanted to start the excavation or simply confirm the old church is where they think it is. Once they do that, they’ll return here, head out again first thing in the morning, probably with all their equipment. Or hire some locals to go with them.”
“You want to wait.”
Kane considered his options. “I don’t trust Liam, but confronting them in the middle of this jungle wouldn’t be smart. They know the terrain better—they’ve been studying these maps for years. They have equipment. Dante will have a gun. And if we get the upper hand, how do we get them back here? I don’t like going into the unknown. I want to get a handle on the area.”
He and Nate walked back to the tent. “Siobhan, how well do you know this place?”
“We’re about twenty kilometers south of the botanical reserve. The greatest threats are poisonous snakes and jaguars. And spiders.” She shivered. “I have a fairly good topographical map for this region, but most locals don’t come up here. It’s considered haunted—there was a village in these mountains that completely disappeared after an earthquake more than a hundred years ago.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Not specifically. Do you think that’s where Liam and Eden are going?”
“Yes. If there was a church there, that’s where they’re going.”
“Could have been—I haven’t heard of one, but there were many missionaries and priests converting the Mexican Indians to Christianity back then. Some kindly, some violently. If they had converted an entire village—which may have only been a few hundred people—they most likely would have built a church.”
“You now want to follow them?” Noah asked.
“No. I want to recon the area. We’re going to wait here—they’ll be back before dark. They won’t be expecting us.”
“Unless your friend in New Orleans called them.”
“He won’t.” Kane was 90 percent certain Carlo wouldn’t call his son. He was counting on it, but if Carlo talked, there were still only a few ways to escape. Kane would find them. “Dunning, you and Armstrong search everything within two hundred yards. Siobhan and I are going to follow their trail. I’m not going to engage—I need an idea of what’s going on, confirm there are only three of them, determine if they have additional weapons.” He pulled out his radio, turned it on. “Test your equipment. If you hear or see anything, alert me. We won’t be more than fifteen minutes away.” He looked at Siobhan. “This time, sugar, you get to lead.”
* * *
Eden watched her brother and saw the joy in his eyes.
Everything they had done, everything they had suffered, was going to be rewarded.
Eden had never told Liam that she had doubts about the treasure. He had been obsessed since they were nineteen, before they returned to college, when his dad first told him how close he was to finding the ruins. After he’d passed the baton to Liam, anointed him in a way, Liam had never lost sight of the goal. There had been times when he and Eden were stumped, when they had no direction, and then six years ago when they thought everything was lost.
Now Eden knew everything they’d done had been leading up to this moment. The gold was within their grasp. Their father had given them this mission, this legacy, and they would not disappoint him.
Eden loved history—Liam loved adventure. Together, they used their skills and their knowledge to uncover treasures all over the world, to right wrongs, to return to museums what belonged to the world, and sometimes they had to break a few laws to do what was right. Or take jobs they didn’t want to pay for the hunt.
Liam believed. And Eden loved her brother for that.
Reaching the ruins had taken nearly an hour longer than they’d planned. The trail was impassable in places and they’d had to find an alternate route twice. They were forced to cut through thick vines and underbrush. They were all tired, sore, and nicked from the plants and branches.
But they were here.
A waterfall dribbled from high in the mountains into the valley below. A stream cut through the middle. It wasn’t technically a valley, Eden thought—it wasn’t bigger than two odd-shaped baseball stadiums joined together, separated by the narrow river. Had this stream been here two hundred years ago?
The mountains on the east were much higher than the hills on the west, which was why originally the access was from the west. But the earthquake had crumbled the mountainside, making it impassable, and no one had tried to clear it. Because of the dead, the ghosts, the memories.
The curse.
Eden shivered, tried to put the idea of a curse out of her head. She didn’t believe in that nonsense. She did believe in history, however, and that human behavior could be shaped by events far more readily than a supernatural curse. Such circumstances might lead the more primitive of people to believe in an ethereal curse. Better to blame something intangible and fearsome than one’s own ineptitude.
They saw nothing but a velvety growth over the ground, save for a lone stone on the far southern side of the valley. “It’s the cross,” Liam said.
He handed her his binoculars. She looked, refocused. Two stones, broken, collapsed. Yes, they could have once made a cross. But from here it was nearly impossible to tell.
“This is it, Eden!”
Dante, more practical than the Rogans, was silenced by what they were seeing. The green was greener than she had pictured; the flowers, brightly colored and vibrant. Overhanging tree branches, heavy with vines and leaves, fell eerily, beckoning them at the same time they seemed to say, Stay back. The hues were so vivid Eden almost wanted to avoid touching anything, for fear of contaminating something that had not hosted human beings in so many years. Eden was glad they weren’t staying here overnight—the predators would come out, if they weren’t here already. There were so many places for them to hide. They could be anywhere, using the beauty of the valley to draw in their prey. Watching, waiting for a big meal.
She shivered.
Stop scaring yourself.
Eden was definitely a city girl.
“Let’s go,” Liam said.
“We have three hours,” Dante reminded him. “Then we have to head back. We’ll start earlier tomorrow.”
Liam didn’t say anything, and Eden hoped he wasn’t planning on staying longer. Or staying through the night. Even though the valley looked like paradise, Eden was scared, and she couldn’t explain why. Maybe because they were the only three people in a fifty-mile radius. Maybe because there were long-dead villagers buried in the ruins. Maybe because there was no one to call for help if they were stuck.
She took a deep breath. “Three hours,” she repeated, hoping that Liam would listen to her, if he didn’t listen to Dante. “We cleared the path, we’ll get back here much faster tomorrow.”
They followed Liam across the valley floor toward the broken stone cross.
Gold or not, they would find history in these ruins.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jack clicked off the satellite phone without saying much.
“Who was that?” Sean asked.
“Gabriella. She couldn’t reach Dante.”
“And?” Sean pushed when Jack didn’t continue.
Jack had circled the point that Liam had given them to land at, wanting to make sure he didn’t see anything unexpected. He banked the aircraft, adjusted the controls, leveled off, and headed straight for the short runway.
“Gabriella learned last night that Liam left Lucy at Dante’s safe house—the same location that Liam gave you. She couldn’t call sooner.�
��
Sean breathed marginally easier. If Gabriella had the same information, that meant chances were good that Lucy was here and safe.
Jack landed the plane smoothly. He taxied and stopped. “But we might have a situation. Gabriella risked her life to call me—I want you to know that, Sean.”
“Tell me.”
“Jasmine Flores sent people to grab Dante. She thinks Dante is the one who set up the attack last month—or that he helped you and Kane.”
“Dante knew the risk.”
“She may know the location of his safe house.”
“May know?”
Jack didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. Jack maneuvered the plane into a spot that would be hard to see at first glance. That’s when Sean spotted the truck Liam had promised him, parked between two short trees.
“Gear up,” Jack said.
Sean strapped a Kevlar vest over his T-shirt. He checked his guns and ammo, dropped extra cartridges into his cargo pants. Sunglasses, hat, his emergency pack. Jack did the same. He tossed Sean a radio.
“Look at me,” Jack said.
Sean strapped on his knife and turned to Jack.
“I have not stopped thinking about Lucy. I’ve been where you are. I know you won’t be stupid. But this is my op. Understood?”
Sean nodded.
“Let’s get my sister.”
* * *
“Tom! I found someone!”
The foul-smelling, wiry man dragged Lucy out from under the stairs.
“Look at you, pretty young thing.”
He first spoke in broken English, then said in Spanish, “What’s your name, little girl?”
She was shaking. Partly out of very real fear, but she exaggerated it. She kept her eyes averted and played the part of a terrified, timid girl.
“What the hell, Jorge?” a voice said.
All Lucy could see was light and dark. She sensed more than saw movement. But she’d walked through every inch of the small two-story house. The owner of the voice stood in the doorway.
“I found her under the staircase. She must have been there for quite a while.”
“What’s your name?” Tom barked out in Spanish.
Lucy spoke in a common Spanish dialect. “Rosa Lucia, señor,” she said. “I’m just a servant girl, helping Mr. Dante, he take pity on me.”
“What? Speak up, girl! I can’t hear you.” Tom spoke rapid but clear Spanish. He didn’t have as thick an accent as Jorge.
She cringed. “I—I just help Mr. Dante. He had to leave, I clean, I hear men come in, I was scared. I hid.”
“What’s wrong with your eyes? Look at me!”
She looked up. She couldn’t see any details.
“She can’t see, Tom,” Jorge said.
“Are you blind?”
“Sí, señor, I don’t see well,” Lucy said.
He snorted. “How can you clean if you can’t see?”
“Mr. Dante, he pities me, I need money to eat, it’s just me and my abuela. We live down the road.”
“What do you think?” a third man said. “I think she’s lying.”
No one said anything for a moment. Then the voice she recognized as that of Tom said, “She ain’t lying. No one can stand still with a gun in their face and not react.”
Lucy realized she was in deep trouble. She had to buy time. Someone would be here for her, right? Either Liam or Sean … someone!
“When is Romero coming back? Girl, answer me!”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!”
“Search her,” Tom said.
Hands roughly patted her down. They didn’t take the pen. Hands squeezed her breasts. “Nice tits.”
Now she was really shaking; this fear wasn’t exaggerated.
“Please, please don’t hurt me,” she cried. She aimed to stay in character, not fight back, but she wanted to lash out. Instead, she took her crucifix from under her shirt and started to pray out loud.
Stay in character, Lucy. Your life depends on it.
“No one is going to hurt you. What did you say your name was?”
“Rosa Lucia.”
“Rosa Lucia. That’s kind of pretty. Where do you live?”
“Up the road, too far to walk. Mr. Dante takes me home when I work.”
“We’ll just wait here for Mr. Dante, all right? Then maybe I’ll take you home, talk to your abuela.”
Tom’s breath on her cheek startled her. He was right in her face. Too close.
“Please, sir, please, I don’t want no trouble, sir.”
“Then sit down.”
From her earlier exploration she remembered a large chair in the corner of the small room. She made her way toward it, feeling around, and tripped over something right in her path. She cried out and fell to the floor.
The men laughed. “Just checking, Rosa,” Tom said. “Help the girl up and keep your hands off her tits. I’m not going to condone that shit.”
“You’re no fun.”
“I’ll tell Marguerite that you had your hands all over her, see what happens then.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Just put her down in the chair and keep your eyes on her, Jorge. Eyes, not hands, got it?”
Jorge grabbed Lucy and pushed her into a soft chair. She breathed heavily, working to control her anger and fear.
She felt eyes watching her. They weren’t going to leave her alone.
“What can you see?” Jorge asked. Everyone else seemed to have left the room. Lucy’s instincts of being watched had saved her many times in the past, and now without sight she was even more acutely aware of what was going on around her.
“J-ju-just shadows and light,” she said. “Daytime and nighttime. Things moving.”
“So you can’t see how many fingers I’m holding up?”
She shook her head.
“You’re too pretty to clean up after people. Tell me the truth. Do you give Romero a little something extra between the sheets?” He touched her face and she flinched.
“No-no, sir, no.”
He laughed.
She heard him pace the room, muttering to himself.
She took several deep breaths to calm herself, then mumbled a prayer. It was one her mother always recited when she was stressed, and it made Lucy feel a bit better. It was a Cuban prayer, there was nothing close to it in English.
Sean will be here. He will be here—
Commotion at the front of the house made Lucy jump.
“Stay,” Jorge said. She heard him stomp out. She considered making a run for it, but where would she go?
Get out of this first, then worry about your sight. Better to be alive.
She was not going to be blind forever. Just a few hours more. If she could find a place to hide until her vision returned, she could run.
The commotion was louder, men were shouting, then Jorge came back into the room. “You’re coming with us.”
“No, no! Please, don’t hurt me.”
He pulled her out of the chair and held her in front of him. “Got the girl, Tom!” Jorge pushed her through the doorway. She stumbled and he held her up.
“Leave her—I can’t deal with a blind chica slowing us down. We’re leaving Daniel’s team here to take care of whoever is approaching, but I got a line on Romero.”
Another voice said, “What blind girl?”
“Romero’s girlfriend or servant or just some little whore from the village, hell if I know.”
Silence fell in the house.
“Well, I don’t fucking believe it.”
She recognized that voice. Why did she recognize that voice?
“You know her?”
“Yeah, I know her.”
No. This could not be happening. Who knew her? No one! No one knew who she was, right?
Rough hands grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head roughly back. “I never forget a cop.”
He slapped her and she hit the wall, flailing around trying to catch herself, t
hen fell to the floor.
“A blind cop?”
“She’s not blind.”
Angelo Zapelli. The man who sold Marisol and Ana into the sex trade when Marisol was pregnant with his child.
The fear exploded inside and she whimpered involuntarily.
Angelo hauled her up. “You will regret the day you were born.”
A man ran into the house. “Two paramilitary types are coming parallel to the road.”
“I’m taking her to Flores. Turning over FBI Agent Lucy Kincaid will solve all my problems. Tom, grab two men and come with me. Daniel, keep the rest of the team here and kill anyone who approaches who isn’t named Dante Romero. When Romero comes, grab him and bring him to Flores. I don’t care if he’s bleeding, as long as he’s breathing.”
Tom said, “I have word that he’s—”
“Who’s fucking in charge here?” Angelo said. “Just do as I say, got it? Romero will be back, he’s obviously working with the fucking US government. You know what that means? His sister is probably in on it. Let’s go, Senorita Flores is going to be very happy tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Jack put his hand up and Sean stopped in his tracks.
Movement in the bushes to the east. Jack put up two fingers, then motioned for Sean to go northeast and Jack turned around to the south.
Kane had spent more time training Sean in covert operations since he’d been living in Texas, but Sean still felt out of his element. Jack and Kane had decades of training. They’d both been in elite Special Forces, they’d both been mercenaries, they’d been members of long-standing teams of soldiers both in and out of the military and had a keen sixth sense about how the enemy would behave.
Sean had instincts and skills, even if he didn’t have the experience and training. He trekked as quietly as possible through the dry brush, staying low because the trees were scrawny, barely large enough to hide behind. It was mid-afternoon and a thick, high cloud cover had turned the air stagnant and damp. A storm would be coming in that night, but right now it was hot, humid, and miserable. Fortunately, the sunlight wasn’t beating down on them, it was already late in the afternoon.
Sean realized what Jack’s plan was—there were three men in the bush, and Jack wanted to surround them. Sean didn’t have time to think about why the men were here, so close to where Lucy was. Liam had told Sean she was alone. Had he lied? Or had Flores’s men already arrived?
Make Them Pay Page 23