She’d heard everything Wyatt and his friends had said thanks to a listening device positioned right outside their room. The little group was heading east to a location near some river. She’d never liked puzzles or riddles. It wasn’t that she wasn’t smart enough to solve them. She felt it was just a waste of time. It was much easier to be a parasite and just follow along, letting their host do the hard work. Then her unit could make the grab when the time was right. That was what she knew. Killing was as simple as pulling a trigger. Stealing was just reaching out at the right moment and taking it. Her team’s vehicles had been parked back on the other side of the building so as to go unseen by Wyatt and his friends. She’d left drivers with them for the ability to get moving quickly when needed. As Angela expected, the SUVs pulled around a few moments later, and her team loaded up.
The winding drive down the mountain was scenic, something she’d been unable to notice the night before. The expanse of the city spread out in the basin below, edging upward into mountains far away. She was not a nostalgic person, nor one who carried a great deal of sentiment. Most of the pleasures she enjoyed in life were not what others would consider normal. But she didn’t care. Her religious beliefs differed from most people. She and James had been tutored directly by the Prophet right out of college. He’d told them the truth about the Christian religion they’d grown up with and how it was a bunch of myths and grand tales built to control the masses with fear and promises of a fantastic afterlife. Instead, he’d shown them a different path. She never really latched onto his religious zeal. To her, life presented too many delights to pass up on the off chance there might be a judgment. On the other hand, Angela figured it was OK to hedge her bets just in case.
She smiled as the sun’s rays splashed onto her face through the windshield. The convoy continued down the road, nearing the outlying buildings of the city. She was proud of herself for being able to push beyond mere human emotions and do the job she knew she had to do. And at last, she was close to her reward.
Chapter 62
Washington, DC
Eric Jennings sat casually in his desk chair, shuffling through some paperwork. He felt like nothing could touch him. Even the menial tasks of reviewing reports and checking up on other assignments couldn’t bring him down. He’d managed to eliminate his two biggest loose ends, his only loose ends. Perhaps killing Emily Starks wasn’t necessary. After all, she didn’t know anything yet. But it was only a matter of time until she asked too many questions. Just like Sam Townsend had.
He felt no remorse for the murders. It was just a means to an end. Jennings had given the best years of his life for the Department of Justice and for what, some measly retirement account that would barely cover his monthly expenses? Well, barely as far as his needs were concerned.
His mind drifted to some of those needs. One of the escorts would do nicely for the evening. He deserved a treat, after all. Maybe he would get the tall redhead. Since the police were still investigating the death of the intruder in his home, he was staying at a hotel a few blocks up from his office, which was perfect since he preferred the women not know where he lived. He became eager at the thought of the fun he would have and after a few more minutes of sorting out the last of the paperwork, picked up his cell phone. A key to his hotel room would be left at the front desk for his female companion. She could make herself comfortable and expect him around six in the evening.
Satisfied with his decision, Jennings hung up the phone and grabbed a television remote that was sitting on his desk nearby. He pressed a few buttons and came across the news report he’d been waiting for. A slender, African-American woman with creamy cocoa skin was reporting that Sam Townsend had been found, shot dead in his home earlier that morning. Apparently, his maid found the body. The hysterical Russian woman was sobbing uncontrollably as they interviewed her briefly. It was hard to understand what she was saying because of her heavy accent. Jennings assumed she was saying something about finding the body on the floor with blood all over the place.
“Police still have no leads as far as suspects are concerned and have been, as yet, unable to find the murder weapon.”
Jennings knew they would not find a murder weapon. Ever.
Eventually, they would make the connection between the dead man from Jennings’s home and Townsend’s murder, with a little suggestive assistance from him of course. The case would be open and shut before the end of the week.
The reporter was going on about Townsend’s career and his meteoric climb through the ranks until his appointment to the new agency in charge of corruption. It was mostly stuff that news teams always reported when someone important or famous died. A quick bio and then on to sports.
He wondered why they hadn’t mentioned Starks’s murder yet but figured he’d either missed it or no one had discovered the body. It had surprised him a little that Townsend’s corpse had been discovered so soon, but that was the way things went sometimes.
Soon enough, he would get a call asking if he’d heard about Emily’s untimely death and how weird it was that she and Sam were killed on the same night. He would play sad and confused for a few days and then move on. No one would know a thing.
Chapter 63
Ecuador
The SUV bumped and rolled its way along an old path that cut through the forest. Any signs of a road had long since been washed out by the seasonal torrential rains that hammered the country. There wasn’t much to tell that a road or a trail had ever even been there except the odd lack of trees and plants.
Hunter had stopped just outside a small village about twenty minutes before and asked for help from a few of the townspeople. He showed them the map and pointed at the dot where the two lines merged. Most of the people had turned their heads away and went back inside their buildings. It had been an odd thing, like they knew where it was but weren’t going to tell him. That or they thought they’d seen the devil himself. Every single person he’d come in contact with had been full of smiles and very friendly until he showed them the map. Finally, he found a boy who looked to be about twelve, playing with a makeshift soccer ball in the street. When Carlson showed him the map and asked in Spanish if he knew where it was, the boy nodded happily. For a young one, the kid was extremely detailed about the directions. He’d basically walked them to the location in his mind. Carlson figured that he’d been there before, though he couldn’t figure out why. Surely it wasn’t for the same reason they were headed there.
Tommy had remained silent on the passenger’s side the entire journey. Will was in the back, tied up so he couldn’t cause any problems. It was, no doubt, an uncomfortable position probably made infinitely worse by the bumpy road trail that jostled everything in the vehicle.
“Who are you?” Tommy said, breaking the silence for the first time since they’d left the village.
Carlson smiled out of the corner of his mouth. He’d not felt like making small talk with someone he was going to end up killing. He learned a long time ago not to get to know your victims. It wasn’t that it made things much harder when it came time to pull the trigger. But it certainly did make it easier if you knew the person had a cat at home. It was just simpler to not know personal stuff. “I’m just a guy,” Carlson said plainly.
“Who do you work for?” Tommy persisted. He watched the driver with every bit of focus he could muster.
“Ah,” Carlson raised a finger. “Now that is a fascinating question. You see, I don’t really know who I’m working for. I just know these two guys needed me to do this job for them. They said there’s a bunch of treasure and that I’ll get a healthy cut of whatever I find. Plus, they gave me money up front. Hard to turn that down.”
“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Tommy asked in a condescending tone.
“Some kind of ancient vault. Gold, I’m assuming.”
Hunter stopped the truck at the end of the trail under the shade of a large, leafy tree and turned off the engine. He opened his door and motioned f
or Tommy to do the same. “Looks like the end of the line for driving. Guess we have to hike our way in from here.”
Schultz said nothing but obeyed and exited the vehicle.
Carlson motioned toward the thick growth of trees. In the direction he was pointing, Tommy could make out a thin trail. It was barely visible, but he could tell at least some kind of animals had used it in the past. “Let’s get moving,” Carlson said.
“What do you mean?” Tommy protested. “What about Will? You’re not just going to leave him there in the back of the truck.”
“I cracked a window,” he replied as he pointed at a small sliver of space at the top of the window. “Besides, it’s not hot out here. He’ll be fine. For now.” The last two words carried a sinister threat.
“Now move.”
Tommy knew there was nothing he could do to change the man’s mind. He refrained from arguing and started trudging off into the woods. Carlson followed close behind, holding the gun tight and aiming it right at the small of Tommy’s back.
Sean stopped the vehicle in a small village about forty minutes outside of Cuenca. He had left Mauricio behind in the city to deal with the situation that had escalated the night before. He’d wanted to go with Sean, but if he didn’t stay and take care of things, matters could get out of hand. Sean understood. His stout friend may not have been of any help on their search anyway. He hoped that Delgado wouldn’t find himself in any legal trouble, though he doubted that would be an issue. Mauricio had many friends in many important places.
Adriana had noted that Mauricio never revealed much about himself during the time she’d seen the man. She had asked Sean about Mauricio, but he offered no information, merely stating that “He’s a man of many resources.”
A few chickens ran here and there on the dirt street. The place seemed like somewhere time had forgotten. There were a few electrical lines that ran along the road, but it was doubtful the area had many other amenities.
An old woman was walking along the street and looked at them with a peculiar stare.
“Buenos días, señora,” Sean greeted the woman.
She was mumbling something to him that he couldn’t quite pick up. However, Adriana was on the driver’s side of the truck and was able to hear the conversation.
“The woman is saying how odd it is to see the same car twice in an hour with different people driving it.”
Sean’s eyes grew big. “They came through here?” he asked in Spanish.
Instead of giving an answer, she just walked away, seemingly angry at something.
Wyatt was confused.
“What did I say?” he looked at Adriana for an answer. She shrugged and said nothing.
Sean noticed a young boy in the street ahead, carrying a soccer ball. “Let’s ask him.”
The homing device was working perfectly. Angela had it planted on Wyatt’s vehicle during the night, making it easy to follow her prey without the risk of being noticed. Effectively, she could stay right on his heels yet out of sight.
When the dot on her tracking screen came to a stop, they pulled off to the side of the road just after entering the small village. The little town was dirty, like the Third World hole it was.
She just couldn’t believe that some people were still essentially savages, living like animals in some places.
The blinking dot on the screen started moving again, and Angela was about to tell the driver to get going, too, but it stopped suddenly.
“What are they doing?” she asked, almost to herself.
“Traffic?” the driver half joked.
“Only if it’s a donkey and a bunch of chickens blocking the road.”
She tried to see down into the small, three-street town to find out what was going on, but from their vantage point on a small hill, she couldn’t see anything except some rickety buildings. Another anxious minute passed. Angela wondered if Wyatt or one of his companions noticed they were being followed. There was no way for her to know. She shrugged off the irrational paranoia and sat back in her seat. After another minute the little red dot on the screen started moving again. Angela nodded at her driver, and the man stepped on the gas and eased the truck back out onto the road.
Will had overheard the man’s conversation with Tommy just before they headed into the woods. He had seen the man before. In fact, he knew who the guy was. Hunter Carlson. Will made sure to know who most of the top assets were in his field. And since his field was somewhat of a shallow pond, it was pretty easy to figure out who was who. Carlson was good. Very good. From what Will had heard, the man was ruthless, clever, and had a very short memory when it came to killing. He reminded Will of himself, which made Will hate the man even more.
Carlson also carried himself with a casual nature. It was probably one of the reasons he’d been so successful. Will knew someone like that could lure in the most suspicious of marks before they even knew what happened.
The ropes were tight on his wrists, irritating the skin from the rubbing and jostling of the last hour. Will was angry that he’d let Carlson get the drop on him. He’d told himself it could have happened to anyone. That was probably true. The rope around his ankles wasn’t as tight. Maybe that was all the wiggle room he needed. When Carlson had checked to make sure Will wouldn’t be able to get free, he’d paid more attention to the bindings on his hands instead of his feet. It made sense. Hands seemed much more likely a tool of escape than feet. That was something that he was extremely glad for at the moment.
He twisted his body around and managed to get onto his back despite his hands being bound from behind. The thought had crossed his mind to try and kick the rear window out, but he figured the sound it would make would be too loud.
Instead, he decided to try to open the back door. His shoe was just small enough that he could hook the toe of it under the latch. Just as he thought, the toe of the shoe slipped beneath the shiny metal, and he pulled back on it. Nothing happened. His hope turned into distress instantly. The door was locked.
“That’s Mauricio’s other truck up ahead,” Sean declared as they bumped and rolled along the old road toward the forest. He let off on the gas slightly and approached the other vehicle with reservation. About twenty feet short of it, he stopped the car altogether. Wyatt and Villa peered through the windshield to see if there was anyone in the other truck. Through the tinted back windows they could see all the way through the front of it. “Looks empty,” Sean said and opened his door slowly. He gripped his Ruger .40 in his right hand just to be safe.
Suddenly, they heard a loud thud, and instinctively both of them dropped to the high grass.
“What was that?” Sean hissed.
She shrugged. “I have no idea. It came from the back of the truck.”
Sean started to get up off the ground when the thud sounded again. It was definitely coming from the back of the SUV. This time, he stayed crouching low and made his way over to the rear door of the truck. The thud sounded again. Someone was in the back of the truck. Wyatt stepped back and around to the side of the vehicle, making sure to check up ahead in the trees of the forest to make sure it wasn’t some kind of ambush. He pointed his gun around to different positions for a moment. Satisfied they weren’t being watched, he risked a quick glanced into one of the back windows of the truck. Inside, he saw Will tied up and about to try to kick the rear window out. Sean tapped casually on the glass with the tip of his gun. Will heard the tapping and looked up to see Sean standing outside the truck. “It’s Will,” Sean said to Adriana as he quickly stepped back around to the rear of the truck and tried to open the back.
“It’s locked,” Will informed him from inside the vehicle.
A quick pull on the latch confirmed what he said. “Maybe Mauricio has a key to each vehicle on the key ring,” Sean said as he fished out a set of keys from his pocket. He pressed one of the buttons; the lights flicked accompanied by a sound of the doors unlocking.
Adriana pulled a small knife out of a cargo pocket and
made quick work of the ropes around Will’s feet and hands.
Sean handed him a gun. “Glad you’re OK,” he said.
“Thanks,” Will replied and took the proffered weapon.
“Where’s Tommy?” Sean asked. “What happened to you guys?”
“We have a new player to deal with.”
The sound of the rushing river was all Tommy could hear; the noises of the forest had faded away to millions of gallons of moving water. Ahead of them, the trees opened into the shore of the Rio Zamora. The river was smaller than Schultz had expected but was still of considerable size. Off to the right, about a hundred yards away, it dropped over a waterfall. The mist of the churning water plumed up into the air a good sixty to eighty feet above the drop point.
Hunter tipped his head toward the falls in a motion to head that way. Tommy reluctantly obeyed and started trudging along the water’s edge. They only walked a few minutes before the bank of the river came to a sudden halt, falling away about fifty feet to the bottom.
Tommy noticed that leading down to the bottom of the precipice was an old path of stone stairs winding its way along the rock face of the cliff. It was wet from the constant barrage of mist and would no doubt be slippery. Still, it appeared to be their only way down. “We’ll have to go down that old path there!” Tommy yelled above the crashing of the waterfall. Hunter nodded and motioned with his gun. As they proceeded to wind their way down the ancient staircase, Tommy could see on the other side of the gorge was another waterfall, where two rivers poured into one.
Will had explained how he and Tommy had stepped right into the stranger’s trap.
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