The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel

by Robert Rapoza

  Keeping quiet had not been easy, and Kristoph had been forced to bite his tongue on many occasions, just to keep the plan moving forward. He had had to remind himself that there were two prizes to be gained from his plan. First, of course, was revenge. That went without saying. Second, was the possibility of possessing a new, endless power supply, one that no one else possessed or could ever rival. Anyone who controlled this technology would wield unlimited power. It wasn’t until the group had met on several occasions, and Kristoph had learned more details, that he had been able to develop his own scheme and put it into action. While the rest of the group was satisfied to follow the French pig, and take whatever scraps he threw their way, Kristoph had decided that he could control the power source on his own and deal a crippling blow to Dumond in the process.

  Dumond had tried his best to conceal certain pieces of his plan from the group, but Kristoph was a resourceful businessman and had learned details about the second expedition to the temple: the one led by Randall’s daughter. He saw the opportunity at once and wasted no time in acting. He had been able to convince a young interpreter to serve as his informant. Kristoph was amazed at how little he had to promise in order to gain the girl’s allegiance. What he had agreed to pay her was less than he spent on brandy and cigars in a year. Not that he had intended to pay her—why spend money on a frail, useless woman, when he could dispose of her with a single bullet?

  Of course, this would no longer be necessary because of that damn Dumond! How could he have gotten the upper hand again? Kristoph had held the element of surprise, and his plan had been working flawlessly until that asshole, Ackers, came along and ruined it. He would make sure to repay Ackers for the grief he was suffering when this was over. Kristoph pounded the table in anger.

  “We have Dr. Randall. The men are bringing him to us as we speak,” Gerhardt said. He could see Kristoph getting worked up again.

  “Well, where in the hell are they, then?”

  “Patience, Kristoph. Captain Sauder updated us a few minutes ago. Their ETA is seven minutes.”

  “Until Randall is standing here, in this room, right in front of me,” Kristoph said, pointing to the ground at his feet, “I will not be patient or satisfied!”

  Gerhardt sighed and nodded, quietly.

  Shortly, the two men heard the familiar whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the helicopter’s blades. Randall had finally arrived. Kristoph stood at the sound of the helicopter, and began to pace impatiently again, stopping to check his watch every few seconds. This would be the turning point in his relationship with Dumond. Without fanfare, the doors to the deck opened and Captain Sauder and his men brought the prize to his feet. Kristoph studied Randall. He was medium height and lean and appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. So this was the man whose research would change the destiny of the world?

  “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Randall demanded.

  “I don’t have your daughter,” Kristoph responded.

  “Then where is she?”

  As he spoke, Randall moved closer to Kristoph as if trying to menace him. A quick jerk on his handcuffs from Captain Sauder checked him, the steel of the cuffs biting into his skin. The Captain also struck him with the butt of his Colt AR15, causing Randall to stagger and fall to his knees. Kristoph motioned for his prisoner to be lifted to his feet again.

  “Let me explain something to you, Professor. I will ask the questions, and you will do exactly as I say, or I will personally see to it that you meet a slow and painful death. Maybe I will even let the good Captain and his men have some enjoyment with you before we kill you.”

  Randall turned to see a smile creep over the face of the Captain at this comment.

  “How far was the underground city from the location where Captain Sauder and his men found you?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

  “I haven’t actually found the city.”

  Kristoph let out a long sigh. He was losing his patience. “Professor, perhaps you need something to help jog your memory.” The Captain dealt Randall another blow to the head. Randall fell to his knees once more and was again jerked to his feet.

  “I hope we have an understanding now,” Kristoph sneered.

  Randall scanned the room before turning his attention to Kristoph.

  “I was in the underground cavern, jumped across a chasm, hit my head and blacked out. I woke up some time later with this lump on my head.” Randall pointed to the bloody bump for emphasis. “When I tried to jump back across, I didn’t make it. I was hanging over the ledge, and about to drop, when your men found me.”

  Kristoph shifted his gaze to his Captain, who was nodding his head in agreement.

  Kristoph was stupefied. “Captain.” He gestured to the soldier, who replied by pushing the gun harder against their captive’s head. Randall felt the cold, hard steel barrel press into the back of his neck. “You’ll have to do better than that Professor.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.”

  Kristoph brought his face within inches of Randall’s.

  “You are going to take us back to the caverns and show us what you found. If you try to escape, I will kill you and then hunt down your daughter and your associates and kill them as well. Do you understand me?”

  All Randall could do was nod to his captor.

  “But first, we need to make another stop. Captain, prepare your men, you’re leaving shortly.”

  Chapter nineteen

  The sleek, dark helicopter raced over the glassy, blue ocean, heading straight for the jungle lined coast. Through his window, Randall watched as they passed from the water onto the land. The aquamarine ocean gave way to dense green brush and trees. Despite his predicament, Randall couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the Peruvian countryside. The scenery beneath him was the stuff of travel brochures. Lush, green jungle teaming with life with El Misti poking through the foliage, it’s weathered and pockmarked face standing in stark contrast to the dense vegetation below. Randall’s mood soured quickly as he remembered Sam and her predicament. Had he truly seen his daughter in serious danger or was his imagination simply running wild? There was no way to be sure. He sighed loudly, wondering if he would ever see Sam, again…or Mike or Phil.

  “We’re approaching the landing zone. Everyone make sure you’re strapped in,” the pilot announced.

  Randall’s inquisitive mind got the better of him as he wondered where they were going and why. Kristoph had ignored his questions and had his minions escort Randall to the waiting chopper, which had been sitting on a landing pad situated on the aft deck of the vessel. Randall had watched Kristoph as he stood at the bridge of ship, monitoring the chopper as it had taken off and flown low, skimming across the water like a rock skipped by a small child on a day at the beach. During the flight, Randall had tried to engage his captors in conversation but they had simply sat quietly, faces etched as if in stone. They were all large, burly men with serious expressions. All except for one man, who was tucked away in the far corner of the craft. Looking conspicuously out of place, he stood out amongst the former soldiers like a weed in a prize English garden.

  He was a mousy looking man with bushy eyebrows hidden beneath heavy black rimmed glasses. He was wearing a denim shirt and brown trousers with brand new heavy hiking boots that looked like they had just come out of the box. Randall was certain that if he had seen the man in his natural habitat, he would have been wearing a sport coat with patches on the elbows sitting amidst a large stack of ancient books. Academics tend to have a certain stereotypical look, and although Randall didn’t fit the part, this other man surely did. He made a mental note to strike up a conversation once they landed, if he could get close enough to speak.

  The pilot eased the Bell helicopter onto a soft patch of grassy earth and landed with a soft thud. The wind from the blades brushed the tall grass away from the chopper, causing it to sway rhyt
hmically as they landed. A mercenary slid the side hatch open and hopped to the ground, crouching to avoid the still rotating blades of the copter. One by one they disembarked from the craft and gathered at the edge of the clearing.

  “Professor Richter, you’ll lead the way. Keller, you escort him and keep him safe. Ochoa, you and Dodd will guard Randall. Make sure he doesn’t get any ideas of disappearing into the jungle,” Captain Sauder said to his men, glaring at Randall to emphasize his point.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it Captain,” Randall replied, smiling.

  “Move out!” Sauder growled.

  The small group moved quietly through the underbrush on a path that looked like it had been recently traveled upon. Covered by dense foliage draped above, the path was concealed by the jungle, invisible to prying eyes peering from above. Randall watched as Professor Richter led the group, stopping occasionally to stare a piece of paper he clutched in his left hand, while wiping his brow with a cloth in his right hand. Randall could tell that the Professor was clearly out of his element and reeked of self-doubt and worry. He strode up next to Richter.

  “Is there a problem?” Randall asked.

  “No, there’s no problem. It’s just this damn humidity,” Richter answered.

  “It’s the time of year. This is the most humid period in the rainforest. Normally we wait to do our fieldwork in the cooler months,” Randall said reassuringly.

  “You’ve been in the jungle before?”

  “Yes, many times. My research has taken me to Peru on multiple occasions over the years. It’s beautiful but the weather can make the trek difficult. There are so many ruins in this area of the world, some we have yet to discover. How about you?”

  “No, I’ve never been to these jungles before. I’m not an outdoorsy person. I enjoy the comforts of my study or the library. This isn’t my cup of tea. As you can see, this heat is really getting to me.”

  “Don’t feel too badly, it’s hard on everyone, even these guys,” Randall said, jerking his thumb in the direction of Kristoph’s men. “They may do a better job of hiding it, but they’re struggling with the humidity just as much as you and I.”

  Richter cast an eye at Captain Sauder who simply glared back at him. Richter quickly turned away.

  “If you say so Dr. Randall.”

  “Call me Nick.”

  “Nick, I’m Kraus,” Richter said, extending his hand. The two men shook hands, Randall smiling broadly at Richter.

  “Break up the meeting and keep moving!” Sauder growled.

  Richter jumped at the sound of the Captain’s deep voice. He scrambled further up the path. Randall turned and stared at Sauder and shook his head. He jogged back to Richter’s side.

  “This path looks well worn. I’m surprised to find such an open path through this jungle. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Randall observed.

  “It traverses several miles of the rainforest. In fact, it connects to another compound I saw when I was here last time,” Richter replied.

  “A compound? In the middle of the jungle? Do you mean ruins?”

  “No, a modern compound with several buildings, a helicopter and even a small port. I’m not sure who built it. Must be a pharmaceutical company or some such thing. Whoever constructed it, certainly had a lot of money.”

  Randall nodded in understanding.

  The two men continued walking along the jungle path with Richter occasionally dabbing his forehead with his handkerchief.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up working with our friends back there?” Randall asked.

  “You know how tenuous funding can be. I was working at a small school in Maine called Bates College. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

  “Of course, it’s a great school.”

  “My department head had notified me our funding had been cut, and I was the professor with the least tenure, so I was the odd man out. I’ve been in academics my entire adult life and didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t teach. That’s when I was approached by a woman named Catherine who worked for Mr. Kristoph. She told me that he was interested in my work and was willing to make a large donation to the college if I would help him with a project. I asked about the nature of the project, but Catherine reassured me it would be simple for a man with my expertise. She was quite convincing,” Richter said, blushing.

  “I’m sure she was.”

  “Anyway, I jumped at the chance to save my job, and now I find myself here in this jungle.”

  “What exactly is this project you were hired for?”

  “My specialty is the ancient civilizations of the Sacred Valley. There’s a legend about Ayar Cachi and the hidden civilization that resides in the mountains not far from here. Have you heard about it?

  “I’ve heard some things, but please go on.”

  “As the story goes, the tribe that lived outside of the mountain were descendants of a group expelled from the underground city of Vilcabamba. One of them was a woman who allegedly had supernatural powers. According to the legend, she was able to sneak back to Vilcabamba and steal the top of Ayar Cachi’s staff. When her tribe found out what she had done, they buried her alive with the relic she stole. They placed the top of the staff on a heavy gold chain and hung it around her neck in the belief that its weight would hold her spirit down and trap her in her underground tomb for eternity. Most people believe the story is just a fable to teach young members of the tribe the evils of stealing, but I know the story is real.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “My thesis was on this legend and during my research, I found this,” Richter removed a small item from his jacket and handed it to Randall who continued walking as he examined it. The item was wrapped in oilcloth to protect it. Randall gingerly removed the cloth to reveal a small leather book. The cover was worn, but the pages within the book were surprisingly well preserved. He flipped it open and immediately recognized the writing. The characters were the same symbols he had seen at Paititi in the tablet room.

  “What is this book?” Randall asked.

  “It’s an ancient text discovered by an archeologist near the Sacred Valley. He found it inside a cave near the remains of several humans. He believed they were outcasts who suffered from some sort of genetic mutation.”

  “What sort of mutation?”

  “They were very short, only four feet tall, and their skulls were huge in relation to their body size. Here, take a look at this,” Richter said excitedly flipping the book to a page marked by a deep red ribbon.

  Randall stopped walking, his eyes fixed on the page which showed a carefully drawn golden medallion.

  “Isn’t it beautiful? I think I know where it is, and that’s why Mr. Kristoph hired me. We’re going there right now!” Richter said.

  “Keep moving!” Sauder shouted.

  Randall resumed walking. “You say you’ve been on this path before. Did you find where the medallion was buried?” he asked.

  “No, not yet. That’s what makes this so exciting! We’re going to discover a previously unknown tomb and be the first humans to see its contents since she was buried!”

  Randall stole a surreptitious glance at the mercenaries. They lagged behind him by several yards, just outside of hearing range.

  “Kraus, do you know why Mr. Kristoph brought me here?” Randall whispered.

  A look passed over Richter’s face as if he had just tasted a lemon for the first time.

  “Of course, you’re the language expert who can help us translate any writing on the tomb. Although, I can read most Incan languages, I can’t read this one. That’s why we need you.”

  Randall glanced over his shoulder again at Sauder who was still several paces back.

  “I don’t think you understand what’s happening here. Kristoph didn’t hire me to help you. I’m being held captive. My research team and I were exploring ruins nearby when someone tried to kill us. These men are hired mercenaries who are looking for the medallion and
Vilcabamba. If we don’t find the medallion, we’re not leaving this jungle alive,” he whispered.

  Richter stopped in his tracks and glared at Randall.

  “What? No, you’re wrong. I know they’re not the friendliest people, but Mr. Kristoph hired them to protect us, not kill us!” Richter shouted.

  “What are you two talking about?” Sauder snarled, jogging up directly behind Randall. “I told Kristoph we couldn’t trust you,” he said, knocking Randall to the ground with the butt of his gun.

  Richter’s face went ashen, and his eyes widened in fear.

  “As for you, do your job and find the goddamn tomb,” Sauder said, grabbing Richter by the collar. All the academic could do was nod vigorously in agreement.

  “Why don’t you leave him alone,” Randall said, getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

  “Shut the hell up! I’m tired of babysitting both of you. All I need is one good reason to end this here and now!”

  Richter scrambled forward up the trail like a frightened jackrabbit, glancing back over his shoulder as he went. Randall remained silent, moving by Sauder and jogging to catch up with Richter.

  “Kraus, slow down.”

  Randall could see his counterpart was in a state of panic. His breathing was fast and shallow and he was perspiring far worse than even the humidity dictated. Randall grasped his arm and pulled him to a stop.

  “Look, I understand how you feel. You just had the rug pulled out from under you, but you have to remember, they need our help to find the medallion. As long as they need us, we’re safe,” Randall said as Sauder pulled up alongside them.