The Prisoner's Gold (The Hunters 3)

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Good,’ Cobb said as he altered his plan of attack. ‘In that case, let’s go about this a different way. Since the document has already been scanned by the Archives, let’s use the computer to translate it. Once it’s done, we’ll have Maggie go back through and make any corrections. The software is a huge timesaver, but it isn’t perfect, especially when it comes to names and idioms. You’ll need to print up a version that has the original text under the translation, line for line, so Maggie can do a thorough analysis.’

  Garcia kept typing. ‘No problemo.’

  ‘Speak English!’ McNutt shouted from across the room.

  ‘That was English!’

  Maggie smiled at the team’s chemistry. ‘What can I do in the meantime?’

  Cobb had anticipated her question. ‘According to your résumé, you’re highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m quite proficient in several disciplines.’

  ‘Actually,’ Cobb said, ‘I’ll be the judge of that. We’ll spar tomorrow. If I find your fighting skills lacking, you’re off the team. I need people I can trust.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘Fair enough.’

  Cobb continued. ‘How are you with weapons?’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘Firearms.’

  ‘I’ve done some skeet shooting with clients, and I’ve held – but not fired – an assault rifle during mandatory military training in China.’

  ‘Josh will teach you the basics when you aren’t sparring or translating. With your martial arts training, you should already know breath control. I expect safety and mechanical proficiency in two days. Target precision within a week.’

  McNutt shouted out, ‘That’s gonna be a lot of rounds, chief.’

  ‘Got anything better to do?’

  ‘Well, I was going to wax my bikini line, but that can wait.’

  Cobb tuned him out and addressed Sarah. ‘Once Hector is done with his list, I need you to figure out what we’d need to extract a treasure the size of the one in Egypt. I know Papi has handled that in the past, but I would prefer if we were in charge of this extraction.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘I also want you to completely re-envision our personal gear. We need to be prepared for anything, but we also need to be able to cross borders without arousing suspicion. Feel free to think outside the box. Use Hector to brainstorm new comms and personal computing. I don’t want a situation like in Alexandria where we lost contact. Our bodies might glow green from radiation, but I want to be able to talk to everyone through tons of rock and metal.’

  ‘I already have some ideas,’ she said.

  Cobb returned his focus to Maggie. ‘Once you’ve translated the manuscript, I want your opinion on possible locations for the treasure.’

  Maggie was about to offer a theory, but before she could say a word Cobb’s eyes darted toward his left shoulder and to Papineau, who sat beyond it. Cobb followed the glance with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, warning her that this wasn’t the time or place to discuss her thoughts on the matter.

  To her credit, she picked up on the signal instantly.

  ‘As soon as you know something, we’ll make our move,’ Cobb said, loud enough for the others to hear. ‘In the meantime, while Hector gets the computer translation ready, why don’t you come with me and Sarah for a quick tour of the house and grounds?’

  10

  Sarah acted as a tour guide, pointing out features of the compound to Maggie, while Cobb silently accompanied them. They eventually wandered out toward the pier, past the palm trees and the interlocking swimming pools, while Sarah told Maggie some details about the Trésor de la Mer, the four-level-high, sixty-five-foot yacht that Papineau usually arrived on.

  ‘Let’s take a stroll on the beach,’ Cobb said. ‘We need to give Hector time to work, and I’d like to hear more about Maggie’s life.’

  Sarah looked at him and knew exactly what he was suggesting.

  They angled away from the house and headed toward a small private beach along the edge of the property. As they passed behind a small concrete structure that served both as a storage shed for the pool equipment and a shower to wash off saltwater and sand from the sea, Cobb signaled for them to stop.

  Maggie did so without complaint or concern.

  She sensed the tour had been for show.

  Sarah pulled out a small black device from her pocket. She activated the sensor with a flick of its switch, then moved it around the three of them in a slow arc, as if she were holding up a cell phone and trying to find a single bar of service. When the LED light didn’t illuminate, she knew that they were clean.

  ‘We’re good,’ she said to Cobb.

  ‘What is that?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘It picks up any directed transmissions on a number of frequencies. If there were a bug or a camera anywhere near here, this would detect it.’

  ‘What about a directional microphone pointed at us from the yacht?’ Cobb asked.

  Sarah grinned. ‘I followed your lead and did a rekky on the boat before I stormed into the house like a mad woman looking for Papi. We’re clear.’

  ‘Good job,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘I have my moments.’

  Cobb nodded and shifted his focus to Maggie. ‘I’m sure you realized that there are a lot of things going on in this group. This spot, for now, is the only place on the compound where you can speak without being filmed or recorded. The next time Sarah and I come out here, if we find it bugged, we’ll know we can’t trust you and you’ll be gone.’

  ‘I understand,’ Maggie said. ‘I have to earn your trust.’

  ‘Actually, you already have my trust. The key is not to lose it.’

  Maggie smiled. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Good. In the meantime, tell us what you found.’

  ‘You found something already?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ Maggie said, not wanting to seem too confident. ‘The last page of the journal had a sentence which loosely translates to: “Soon I will begin my search for the lake that cannot be found.” Obviously I didn’t have a chance to read the entire manuscript, but I got the sense that Rustichello had gathered some clues from Polo and hoped to travel to Asia to find Polo’s treasure for himself. Based on that line alone, I think the lake is a possible location.’

  Sarah studied her closely, looking for anything that seemed off. Thanks to years of fieldwork with the CIA, Sarah was a pretty quick judge of character. She assumed that was the main reason that Cobb had asked her to tag along during the tour of the grounds: to get a read on Maggie.

  Although Cobb had told Maggie that he trusted her, Sarah knew better. There was no way that Cobb would take her into the field until she was cleared by the team. Garcia had already started digging into Maggie’s background, and McNutt would determine if she could handle herself at the gun range. Meanwhile, Sarah and Cobb would study her every act and comment, probing for anything that might put them at risk. They knew they needed a historian in the field, but they wouldn’t tolerate a liability. If their evaluation produced any red flags, Maggie would be sent back to Asia before Papineau could prevent it.

  ‘And you know where that is?’ Sarah asked.

  Maggie nodded. ‘Lop Nor is a dried-up salt lake in Luozhong in northwest China. It is a former nuclear test site known for the mining operation presently located there.’

  ‘What do they mine?’ Cobb asked.

  ‘Potash – for salt and fertilizers,’ Maggie explained. ‘But the lake was famous in antiquity for something else entirely.’

  ‘And what was that?’ Sarah wondered.

  ‘The lake moved.’

  ‘Wait. It did what?’

  ‘The Tarim River, the body of water that feeds the lake, changes its course periodically. When that happens, the lake itself changes locations while the previous lake dries up. This phenomenon confounded explorers and map
makers for years until a Swede, Sven Hedin, sorted out the puzzle at the beginning of the twentieth century. Perhaps Marco Polo knew about the wandering lake in the thirteenth century. For all we know, it might have been common knowledge back then and was somehow forgotten along the way.’

  ‘Like the location of a lost tomb.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And what do you think we’ll find at the lake?’ Cobb asked.

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But if it’s okay with you, I was hoping you could ask Hector to use his computer skills to search for satellite coverage of Luozhong. Or is that beyond his capabilities?’

  Cobb laughed at the thought. ‘No, that’s definitely in his wheelhouse.’

  ‘That, and a whole lot more,’ Sarah mumbled.

  ‘But instead of me asking him,’ Cobb said, ‘I think you should ask him yourself. Not only will he be flattered that you need his help, but it will also give him a chance to make amends.’

  ‘Amends for what?’ Maggie wondered.

  Cobb smiled. ‘For calling you the maid.’

  11

  Two hours and three cups of coffee later, Special Agent Callahan stood from his chair and stretched his aching back. As expected, the footage of the bombing in Egypt had been hard to watch, and nothing of value had been gained. He was nearly ready to give up on the process when something unexpected popped up on the screen. It was so surprising that he thought he was seeing things.

  ‘Hold on! Run that back for me!’

  Koontz, who was half asleep in front of the computer, blinked a few times before he emerged from his trance. ‘Why? Is she hot?’

  Callahan pushed his partner aside and scrolled back through the last few minutes of footage before he let it play again. Shot by a witness with a cell phone, the video was remarkably clear. The camera panned across the scene of destruction before settling on a man who was bravely helping those trapped underneath the wreckage. As the bystander zoomed in, the hero’s blood-caked face filled the screen.

  Callahan quickly pressed PAUSE. ‘I’ll be damned. Will you look at that?’

  Koontz stared at the man, confused. ‘Um … that’s a dude.’

  Callahan nodded, completely oblivious to his partner’s innuendo. ‘You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve seen that guy before.’

  ‘Where? Playgirl?’

  ‘No, asshole, that’s the guy who saved my life in Brooklyn.’

  Koontz glanced at his partner, then back at the screen, then back at his partner. ‘And on that note, I think it’s time for a break. Just how much coffee have you had today?’

  ‘Jason, I’m serious!’

  ‘I’m serious, too. This is footage from a crime scene in Africa, not Brooklyn. Granted, both are filled with black people, but—’

  ‘Listen,’ he blurted, interrupting the racist remark, ‘I know what I’m saying sounds crazy – I know it does – but I’m telling you: that’s the guy who saved my life.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I need to know why.’

  Koontz, who had been trapped inside the surveillance van during the firefight, hadn’t seen the man in question, but based on the tactics involved and the number of guards who had been eliminated, they had always suspected that the man had received extensive military training. If so, he was bound to be in their system.

  ‘Fine!’ he grumbled, as he copied the man’s face from the paused footage and fed it into the FBI’s facial-recognition database. ‘This doesn’t mean that I believe you. It only means that I want you to shut the fuck up.’

  ‘Trust me, I know the feeling.’

  Koontz took the insult in stride. ‘I hope you realize that you can’t put any of this in your report, or we’ll be teased more than we are right now.’

  Callahan nodded. ‘I know.’

  As the program processed the face from the video, Callahan paced around the room like an expectant father. He knew the system could take hours to find a match, but there was no way he would be able to focus on anything else until the search was done.

  Surprisingly, he received his answer less than ten minutes later.

  ‘I’ll be damned,’ Koontz muttered as he stared at the file that had popped up on his screen. ‘It looks like you were right.’

  The black-and-white photo had been taken long ago, but it was definitely the same man from the video. His face had been slightly more rounded and vibrant in his youth, before the rigors of life had taken their toll, but his piercing gray eyes hadn’t changed. His stare was unmistakable.

  Callahan read the accompanying information. ‘Jackson Cobb, Junior. US Army, Special Forces. Military record: classified.’

  Koontz glanced at his partner, concerned. ‘Classified? Why would it be classified? You don’t think that …?’

  ‘I don’t think what?’

  ‘Do you think he’s the one who blew up Alexandria? Maybe this was some sort of Black Op that went wrong.’ The blood drained from his face as he considered the ramifications. ‘Son of a bitch! What the hell did you get us into?’

  ‘Me?’ Callahan teased. ‘You’re the one who ran his face through the system.’

  ‘Because you wouldn’t shut up about him!’ Koontz shook his head in frustration. ‘Look, we’re in enough trouble as it is. I don’t need the Pentagon getting involved with my personal life. I have more skeletons in my closet than Jeffrey Dahmer.’

  ‘Relax,’ Callahan said. ‘The guy was digging people out of the rubble. If his mission was to blow up the city, he wouldn’t have stuck around to help survivors. I think it’s safe to assume that he wasn’t responsible for the blast.’

  ‘Really?’ Koontz argued. ‘Because if I remember correctly, his team blew up half of Brighton Beach, then he stuck around to help you.’

  ‘True, but that was different. The only people who got hurt in Brooklyn were Kozlov’s men. Not me, not you, and certainly no civilians. Meanwhile, the bomb in Alexandria killed hundreds of innocents.’ Callahan shook his head at the thought. ‘Trust me, the two assaults were nothing alike.’

  ‘On the surface, no. But let’s be honest: Egypt hasn’t been the best place for tourists for a while. If he wasn’t there to see the sights, why the hell was he there?’

  ‘Beats me,’ Callahan answered.

  Over the past several months, his passion had been waning as his talents were wasted in this windowless purgatory, but thanks to Cobb’s mysterious reappearance the gleam had suddenly returned to Callahan’s eye. After all this time, he finally had a reason to be excited about work again.

  ‘But I intend to find out.’

  12

  Thursday, March 20

  Ft. Lauderdale, Florida

  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.’