‘Hello, Chase,’ said Stikes. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’
34
T
he Hind had landed, Pachac and his men had reached the plaza – and the prisoners were being held at gunpoint.
‘Some familiar faces, I see,’ said Stikes, giving Macy and Osterhagen dismissive looks before turning rather more attention to Kit. ‘There’s one that’s conspicuously absent, though. Where’s your wife, Chase?’
Eddie said nothing, fixing the other Englishman with a defiant stare – which earned him a fierce blow from a rifle butt, knocking him to his knees. ‘He asked you a question, Chase!’ shouted Baine, following the strike up with a boot to the side. He was about to deliver another kick when a gesture from his commander stopped him short.
‘Well?’ said Stikes. ‘Where is she?’
‘Buggered if I know,’ Eddie groaned, standing back up. Nina’s location had been preying on his mind as well. She and Mac had been beside a building on the plaza’s southern side – which had now collapsed.
‘You may well be. I doubt Pachac’s men have a lot of female company hiding out in the mountains – they’re probably desperate enough to find even your hairy Yorkshire arse appealing.’ He turned back to Macy. ‘But I think it’s fairly clear who’d be at the top of their list. Should I give her to them, Chase?’ He raised the Jericho to her head. Macy’s lips tightened, trembling. ‘Or should I just shoot her now? So. Where’s your wife?’
‘She was behind that building,’ Eddie growled in defeat, knowing the former SAS officer would pull the trigger without hesitation. He gestured towards the rubble.
Stikes’s eyes flicked towards the wrecked structure. ‘Cagg, Voeker, check that. See if she’s buried in it.’ His two men moved off to search the ruin. Stikes lowered the gun. Macy let out a whimper of relief.
‘So you brought this arsehole with you,’ said Eddie of Baine, enduring another kick in an attempt to direct Stikes’s thoughts away from his hostages. He didn’t recognise any of the other mercenaries. ‘What about Maximov?’
Stikes scowled. ‘I fired him. Anyone stupid enough to be outwitted by you isn’t somebody I want on the payroll. And speaking of stupidity . . . ’ He faced the helicopter. Both cockpits were open, Krikorian examining the nose cannon while Gurov climbed on to the fuselage to inspect a large dent where a flying rock had hit one of the engine intakes. ‘Gurov! Is there any damage?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Russian replied. ‘I need to check the turbine blades.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘Twenty minutes.’
‘Do it.’ Stikes glared at Krikorian, who noticed his employer’s ire and shamefacedly moved behind the gunship. Stikes returned his gaze to Eddie. ‘Idiot. Firing a missile in a confined space – when I’d already given specific orders that I wanted you taken alive.’
‘Nice to know you care,’ said Eddie sarcastically.
‘Oh, I don’t. Not about you, at least.’ He looked across at Kit. ‘But Jindal and your wife are going to do something for me.’
‘What thing?’
Eddie hadn’t expected an answer, but his chances of getting even a hint fell to zero as Pachac and a couple of his men hurried down the stairway. ‘Stikes!’ shouted the terrorist leader excitedly. ‘It is here, it is here! The Punchaco!’
‘You found it?’ said Stikes.
Pachac ran to him. ‘Yes, yes! In the temple. It is – it is magnificent! And huge! Three metres high, at least.’
‘Over twice the size of the sun disc from Paititi, then,’ said Stikes thoughtfully. ‘At least four times the volume of gold.’
‘At least. And it is covered with gems, diamonds and emeralds and more!’
‘That should fund a revolution or two.’
Pachac’s enthusiasm dampened. ‘The Punchaco is the greatest symbol of my people. I cannot sell it – it would be a betrayal.’
‘What about the rest of the gold?’
‘There is no other gold,’ said the Peruvian. ‘Not that we have found.’
Stikes frowned. ‘That doesn’t seem likely. Since we’re standing in the heart of the legendary
city
of gold.’ He stood before Osterhagen. ‘You’re the expert, Dr Osterhagen – where’s the gold?’
The Punchaco is the only gold we have seen,’ said the German.
‘I find that difficult to believe.’
‘We haven’t had time to explore,’ Macy protested. ‘You got here right after we did.’
‘How
did
you get here so quick?’ Eddie demanded. ‘Only a few people knew exactly where we were going.’
A smug smile slithered on to Stikes’s face. ‘I have your father to thank for that.’
‘What?
’
‘He called me after you threatened him in Bogotá. He was rather worried, but I assured him there wouldn’t be any problems.’ The smirk broadened. ‘He also told me that your wife was searching for El Dorado in Peru. And I knew someone with a lot of contacts here.’ He nodded at Pachac. ‘So I made a deal with Arcani, and he put the word out to his informants, his sympathisers, and most importantly his network of drug dealers to watch for a certain red-haired woman in charge of a team of foreigners. We knew that you’d arrived in Lima, we knew you spent last night in Chachapoyas, and we knew when you passed through the village down the road. But you didn’t reach the next village to the north, and there are only a handful of places you could possibly have turned off the road . . . so all Arcani’s people had to do was look for your tyre tracks. Simple.’
Eddie held in the surge of rage he felt towards his father, focusing it on more immediate targets. ‘So you’re in this for the gold? You might have a problem getting your cut if your new mate here doesn’t want to sell it.’
Stikes laughed. ‘I don’t want gold, Chase! Who am I, Mr T? No, the deal was that apart from enough to pay my men all they’re owed, plus a bonus, Pachac can keep everything that he finds here . . . except for the three statues your wife is so interested in.’
Eddie reacted with surprise – but noticed that, if anything, Kit seemed even more shocked. ‘What the hell do you want those for? They’re just bits of stone.’
‘We both know that’s not true.’ Stikes turned as Voeker and Cagg returned. ‘Well?’
‘She’s not there,’ said Cagg. ‘But there were some tracks in the dust. Looks like she went down the hill.’
Stikes whirled, staring towards the shaft. ‘Damn it! We can’t let her get away – Baine, make sure she doesn’t get out of the cave. Do
not
kill her; I need her alive.’ Baine raised his M4, which was fitted with a telescopic sight, and ran to the end of the plaza. The mercenary leader addressed his other men. ‘The rest of you, spread out and find her. We need to find the statues too. Where are they, Chase?’
‘How the fuck would I know?’ Eddie replied as the black-clad men dispersed. ‘I was down at the bottom trying to stop you arseholes from getting in.’
Stikes sighed and drew his gun again, pressing it against Macy’s head. ‘We’re not going to have to go through this rigmarole again, are we?’
Osterhagen spoke up. ‘Leave her alone. The statues are with our equipment, outside the temple.’
‘Show me,’ said Stikes. ‘Arcani, tell your men to guard the others . . . no, wait. I want to keep Chase in my sight. Bring them with us.’ Pachac issued orders, and the rebels pushed their prisoners forward at gunpoint.
‘We can’t let him take the statues,’ Kit protested.
‘Don’t worry about being separated from them, Jindal,’ said Stikes. ‘You’ll be coming with them.’
‘Why do you want him?’ asked Pachac.
‘I’m a wanted man after the fiasco in Venezuela,’ replied Stikes. ‘An Interpol officer will be a useful hostage if the police get too close.’
Eddie narrowed his eyes, puzzled. Stikes’s answer was a little too glib, too rehearsed. And it didn’t even hold water; taking a cop as a hostage was a bad idea, because it ensured that the other cops trying to rescue him would be particularly determined and ruthless. The mercenary had some other purpose in mind for Kit.
Pachac seemed equally doubtful, but was apparently willing to accept the explanation. ‘Then what about the gold?’ He waved a hand at the silent ruins as they climbed through the tiers towards the temple. ‘We are the first people to find this place since the Incas left. There must be more gold than just the Punchaco. I must have it. I need it for the revolution.’
‘Revolution?’ muttered Zender with contempt. ‘You are a drug dealer, nothing more. A common criminal.’
Pachac rounded on him, face twisted with anger. ‘I am the Inkarrí!’ he snarled. Zender flinched, but stood his ground, almost nose to nose with the terrorist leader. ‘I will give back my people the land and power that were stolen from them by the Spanish. By people like you! Bourgeois puppets of the ruling class! The revolution will sweep you away like garbage.’
‘There will not be a revolution,’ Zender countered. ‘This is the twenty-first century! Communism is dead – even the Chinese have rejected Maoism. People want jobs, and money, and homes where they can raise their children. They do not want drug-dealing psychopaths like you!’
Pachac was silent, the veins in his thick neck standing out as his fury rose . . . then with a roar he snatched something from his belt. A metallic
snick
– and he drove his knife into the official’s stomach. Zender screamed as the blade slashed deeper into his abdomen.
Eddie lunged at the Peruvian, but was seized by other rebels and dragged back. Macy turned away in horror as Pachac pulled out the knife, then clamped both hands around Zender’s throat, spittle flying from his lips as he hissed abuse in Quechua, the Indian language. He squeezed harder and harder, forcing Zender to his knees.
Zender convulsed, trying to force Pachac’s hands away, but the muscular revolutionary’s grip was too strong. The official’s mouth opened wide in a futile attempt to draw air through his crushed windpipe, tongue writhing like a panicked snake. A choked gurgle escaped his throat . . . then his eyes rolled grotesquely up into his head and his entire body sagged into the limpness of death.
Pachac let go. The corpse slumped to the ground. He wiped off his knife, then folded it shut. ‘So that was your speciality?’ said Stikes. ‘Callas told me about it.
Capa
. . .’
‘Capacocha,’
Pachac told him, returning the knife to his belt. ‘An ancient Inca ritual. One I will be proud to bring back.’
‘Couldn’t you have just stuck to playing pan pipes?’ Eddie asked, disgusted. The Peruvian’s expression made him think that he might also receive a demonstration, but then Pachac turned away and continued towards the temple entrance. His followers shoved the prisoners after him, leaving Zender’s body behind.
‘Where are the statues?’ Stikes demanded as they entered the little square with the fountains.
‘Over here,’ said Osterhagen, leading him to where the team had left their equipment.
Stikes opened the case to find the statues inside, the set now complete. ‘Excellent,’ he said, snapping the lid shut and picking up the box. He looked at Eddie. ‘So I’ve got the statues, I’ve got Jindal – that only leaves your wife.’
‘And the gold,’ said Pachac impatiently.
‘And the gold, yes. But—’ He broke off as his walkie-talkie bleeped. ‘Yes? Have you found her?’
‘Sir!’ said one of his men urgently. ‘We haven’t – but we found two of Pachac’s men dead. Their weapons are missing.’
Stikes immediately understood the implications. ‘She’s not trying to escape – she’s going to try to rescue her friends! Everyone get back up here – we’re on the level above the plaza.’ The case under one arm, he strode back to Eddie. ‘Been giving her survival lessons, have you?’
‘A few,’ said Eddie, wondering what the hell Nina was doing - and Mac, for that matter. ‘She knows how to take care of herself.’
‘But does she know how to take care of you?’ The Jericho was drawn again – but this time it was Eddie, not Macy, who was its target. ‘Dr Wilde!’ Stikes’s voice rose to a shout, echoing through the cavern. ‘Dr Wilde, I have your husband at gunpoint. You have ten seconds to make your position known and surrender, or I’ll kill him, then move on to the rest of your friends!’
Macy clutched Osterhagen’s arm in fear as Stikes stepped closer to Eddie, the gun inches from his face. The first of the mercenaries ran into the square, covering the other entrances and surrounding buildings with their M4s. ‘Ten!’ said Stikes. ‘Nine! Eight—’
‘Really, Alexander!’ boomed a Scottish voice. ‘You always were such a drama queen.’
Everyone whirled to see Mac on the terrace above, an AK taken from one of the rebels Eddie had shot ready in his hands. The weapons of mercenaries and terrorists alike snapped up to lock on to him. Stikes was genuinely thrown by his unexpected appearance, but quickly masked his surprise. ‘Well, well. McCrimmon. What in the name of God are you doing here?’
‘I’m on holiday,’ Mac replied. ‘Let them go.’
Stikes laughed sarcastically. ‘I don’t think so.’ The Jericho was still aimed unwaveringly at Eddie’s head. ‘Now, where was I? Oh yes. Seven! Six! Five!’