Chasing El Dorado

by P.S. Linscott

CHAPTER 7

  Jack Cage sat on the terrace of the Hotel Gloria looking out over Guanabara Bay waiting for Jolly to join him. As the morning sun rose in the sky, promising another hot day, an unusually loud automobile engine drew his attention to the street below.

  Lowering his coffee cup and looking down over the edge of the balcony he saw, not one, but three black sedans speed by, each one filled with several pasty colored men in white suits and white hats with little round sunglasses.

  “Volvo PV36, very nice, very expensive.” Jack turned to see Matroye Joley approaching. “Only five hundred cars have been produced since 1935. I understand that the company has as few as fifty remaining and yet if those are not sold by the end of this year, or the summer of thirty eight at the very latest, Volvo will drop the line completely.”

  “I still prefer my horsepower with four legs Jolly.” Jack replied as the last sedan screeched around a corner disappearing from the Rua Do Russel.

  “Good, then you will not mind visiting the Stockyard this morning while I undertake the grueling task of meeting our new client over breakfast.” Jolly chuckled.

  “What the hell?” Jack coughed, choking on his coffee and spilling a bit on the clean white linen tablecloth. “Why can’t I go to breakfast too?”

  “Jack, my boy, please be careful.” Jolly pleaded with mock concern.

  “Now Jack, I told you. We will be guiding a large party into the jungle this time therefore we will need more than the usual number of pack animals and horses.

  Also Cyril said that this group will pay extra if we can expedite their departure. Besides, you are a much better judge of mules and horses than I am.”

  Jack sat quietly for a moment taking a full measure of his friend and mentor Matroye Joley. In the last twenty years his bright red hair had faded a little and bits of grey were now showing here and there. He had gained a few scars during their time together in the war but the big man was still as strong and powerful as ever.

  He and Jack had stayed side by side for the duration, completing many covert missions for both the French and Americans. After the war Jolly had sent Jack off to College while he had gone back home.

  Jolly’s family had all been assassinated during the war, including his wife. Jolly had been devastated by the loss of his family who had been killed in retaliation for his part in the victory over Germany. He sold all of his remaining belongings and estates and when Jack had graduated they decided to come to Brazil to start something new.

  What they found here was a world neither of them had expected. Like anywhere in the modern world there were bad people, but there were good people too, from all parts the world, attempting to escape some worse evil and, like Jolly and Jack, start over after the devastation of the Great War.

  These people became their friend’s and their family and so, they stayed. The two now hired themselves out as private security and jungle guides to telegraph companies, surveyors and amateur explorers, providing them with protection from dangerous Indians and bandits who roamed the fringes of the great Amazon jungle.

  “Horse Shit!” Jack cursed.

  “Monsieur Cage! Veuillez ne pas être vulgaire!” Jolly said in mocked embarrassment.

  “I can always tell when you’re full of crap because you start talking like a French aristocrat.” Jack said as he stood and gathered up his ruck sack.

  “You are an ungrateful whelp.” Jolly said to Jack’s back. “I should have left you in that cow’s stall and let them hang you.”

  “I’ll see if I can find you a new girlfriend down at the stockyard.” Jack said ignoring his friend’s good natured banter.

  Jack walked out of their joint suite listening to Jolly’s laughter rolling down the hall after him. Of course Jack was smiling as well but he was not about to turn around for Jolly to see.

  Jack spent most of the morning with the gauchos at the stockyards making arrangements for horses and pack mules. Cyril Berck, who owned and operated a tavern near the docks, had arranged this morning’s meeting with a group of prospective customers explaining to Jolly that the “Clients” were a group of ten to twelve scientist who had come to Brazil for the summer to study the Flora.

  This was probably a group of rich graduate students on holiday with dreams of having an Amazon adventure. Jack speculated that he and Jolly would lead them thirty or forty miles into the jungle, at best, before the group was begging to return to the comforts of their luxury hotel.

  After sharing stories and coffee with the gauchos, Jack made the short walk up town to meet Jolly at the Café Carioca where he was to meet the new clients. It was nine o’clock now and Jolly had been scheduled to meet the men at eight. If he hurried he just might be able to squeeze in a plate of eggs before the meeting concluded.

  The Café sat in the middle of the block on the Rua do Lavradio. Rounding the corner he came to a sudden stop when he spotted three black Volvo PV36 Sedan’s parked in the middle of the block. Jack did a quick about face and ducked back around the corner. Removing his hat he peeked covertly back down the street.

  Outside of each vehicle, standing on the sidewalk, was a pasty skinned man. Each was wearing a matching white linen suit, white hat, and tiny dark sunglasses. Each man was smoking a cigarette and appeared to Jack to be ‘switched on’. Jack knew a man on guard duty when he saw one and, he also recognized a soldier, whether in uniform or not.

  ‘So, what kind of scientist’s needed to have their backs watched during breakfast?’ Jack thought to himself.

  A donkey cart being driven by a little old woman had been coming slowly up the hill behind him and he now fell in around the opposite side of it using it as cover to cross the street. The woman gave him an odd smile as if he were a child playing a game. He returned the grin realizing that he was actually enjoying himself. Peeking back around the opposite corner to be sure that he had not been seen, Jack made his way to the alley and the rear entrance of the Café.

  “O senhor Cage agradece ao Deus! Eu penso que o senhor Jolly tem o problema.” (Oh Mr. Cage thank God! I think Mr. Jolly has trouble.) Ribeiro the cook said.

  “Call Tuia to the kitchen and then take her out the back.” Jack said trying to calm the man.

  Ribeiro called the little waitress to come help him with the dishes. While everyone had their attention on Rebeiro and Tuia Jack moved quietly behind a curtain and then a China hutch so that he was positioned at the rear of the café’. Jack did not have to see Matroye Joley to know exactly where he was. He would have seated himself with his back to a wall, a clear view of all entrances and an unobstructed exit path. The only thing Jack needed to see was where the white suits were and so he took a look.

  “Capitaine Joley I am afraid the negotiations are over. You will escort us on our journey and, you will do so according to our contrivance. Otherwise, the consequences will be quite severe.” One white suit was leaning back in his chair addressing Jolly.

  “You see, we are acquainted with some of the most influential people here in the new Brazilian government and it would be most unfortunate if they were to hear of your unfriendly and bellicose attitude.”

  “Herr Schmidt I could not agree with you more, the negotiations are over.” Jolly began to chuckle. “You see I too know some influential people.” Schmidt lowered his chair to the floor with a loud thud, his contempt for Jolly displayed across his face.

  “Even as we speak, one of those influential people currently has two Colt Forty-Five Revolver’s aimed in your general direction.” Jolly snickered.

  Standing in the back of the Café in full sight stood Jack Cage. At six feet three inches tall, two hundred thirty five pounds, steel gray eyes and ruddy skin, Jack was damn intimidating standing there with the two Colt’s, hammers back and wool hat pulled down low on his forehead. Jack was not laughing.

  Schmidt and two or three other white suits reached inside their jackets.

  “No, no, no!” Jolly warned with a giggle. “I would not do that. I count
your number as being eight. Jack has twelve shots and would have you all dead before you could draw forth your weapons. Herr Schmidt, I think you should make other arrangements for your venture, I believe Jack has made himself very clear that we are not interested, au revoir messieurs.”

  Jolly drew his Colt M1911 Forty Five from its holster and covered Jack as he moved toward the rear exit.

  “Our paths will cross again gentlemen. And I assure you that when they do you will not find me quite so docile.” Schmidt’s final warning faded behind them as they moved down the alley behind the Café keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of being followed. They rounded the end of the block turning toward the Hotel Gloria, holstering their weapons before moving onto the main street.

  “That was perfect timing Jack!” Jolly said slapping him on the back.

  “So tell me about your new friends?” Jack asked.

  “Nazi’s!” Jolly spat the word out. “Let’s get back to the Hotel and I will tell you all about it over a scotch and soda.”

  Jack and Jolly stopped outside the Hotel Gloria watching and waiting. Once satisfied that they had not been followed they entered the lobby and headed for the main stairway.

  “Mr. Jolly, Mr. Cage, hello!” A short, portly, bald man approached them. He wore a tight fitting, dingy white suit and carried his white, sweat stained hat in his hand.

  “Cyril!” Jolly said sternly.

  Jack and Jolly intercepted the red cheeked bar owner, each grabbing an arm, and escorted him toward the stairway.

  “How fortuitous it is to see you.” Jolly said with a mock smile.

  “Jolly I need to tell you something about the people you are meeting today… Where are we going Jack?” Cyril asked bewildered by the sudden manhandling.

  “Up to the room for a drink and a little chat.” Jack answered.

  “Oh, well it’s a bit early for me thank you. Perhaps I’ll just be on my way. I do recall now that I have an appointment that I am late for so…” Cyril made an ineffectual attempt at escaping the two men’s grasp.

  “Don’t be rude Cyril,” Jolly replied. “We insist that you join us.”

  Entering the hotel room Jack pushed Cyril Burke into a chair well away from the door. He then poured three glasses of scotch while Jolly placed two more chairs directly in front of Burke.

  Shoving a drink into Cyril’s hand Jack and Jolly sat down in front of the pudgy little man and stared at him intensely. Burke fidgeted and grinned uncomfortably while dabbing at the sweat rolling down his cheeks with a dirty linen handkerchief. He finally realized the two men were waiting for him to explain himself.

  “Oh, yes! Jolly, you must be careful when meeting with the scientists today.” Cyril spouted suddenly. Moving to the edge of his seat and lowering his voice he continued. “They are not actually scientist at all. They are Nazi’s.”

  “You don’t say!” Jolly said in mock surprise. “Please go on.”

  “Yes, well it seems that a group of Germans came to Brazil in 1935 with the grand idea of colonizing parts of the jungle. The goal of course was to spread National Socialism in South America. The group has not been heard from in over a year now, supposedly these men you are to meet with have come to search for the missing colonist.”

  “However,” Cyril continued, lowering his voice even more. “I have just been informed that a ship will arrive here tomorrow morning with a garrison of German soldiers aboard!”

  “Gentleman,” Cyril looked around the room as if Nazi soldiers were hiding in the closet, “this is no rescue mission. I believe we are being invaded! ”

  Jack sat silently looking at the rosy cheeked man dubiously.

  “Cyril I know they are Nazi’s. I met with them at eight this morning! Why did you tell me they were scientist on vacation if you knew they were on a rescue mission? It would have been nice to have a little advance warning!”

  Oh, I am sorry Mr. Jolly. Truly I am! But you see now, don’t you sir?” Cyril begged.

  “Cyril there is no invasion. They probably just want to know what happened to their people.” Jack said.

  “Then, what about the ship?” Cyril pointed out.

  “I seriously doubt that a Nazi Battle Cruiser is docking in Rio tomorrow Cyril.” Jolly answered. He rose from his seat and shuffled Cyril Burke out the door. “Now run on back to the Lazy Peacock, and next time, no secrets!”

  Sitting down in the chair Burke had just vacated Jolly joined his younger friend in pondering the mornings events.

  “I know that the story of Nazi colonization is true because I read the news article announcing it back in 1935. The group set out into the jungle and disappeared” Jolly said.

  “However Johann Schmidt is no benevolent angel of mercy bent on the salvation of his countrymen. He and his men are obvious thugs and when I began to question his story about scientific research he did not even try the story about a rescue mission, he simply attempted to strong arm me. That is when you showed up.”

  “So it’s not research and it’s not a rescue mission. It’s obviously not another attempt at colonization and it’s certainly no invasion.” Jack offered. “What then?”

  “I don’t know.” Jolly answered. “However I suggest we be at the dock in the morning to see just who and what arrives on that ship.”