“Do you know what Grant and I were doing in New Zealand? Testing the performance of a new car in winter conditions. Fun and important work, but not earth-shattering.”
Jess nodded. “Our find here
“Exactly. The last few years I’ve been part of discoveries that have been revolutionary.”
“And saved a lot of lives in the process. Yes, I did follow your exploits in the news, even though you shunned the press and kept your private life out of the stories.”
“Grant is the glory hound, not me.”
“So you do it for another reason.”
“After Karen’s death, I thought the world had ended. And it had, for me. But since then I’ve realized that I don’t want to go through the motions in life. I want to make a difference. Not to have my name in the history books, but because it’s what makes me feel worthwhile.”
Jess’s lip curled into a grin. “So you’re being selfish, is what you’re saying.”
“See? You get me. You always—”
Before Tyler could finish, he was interrupted by a honking horn, then the clatter of gunfire.
THIRTY-SIX
Before his private jet had landed on Easter Island an hour earlier, Colchev’s men in Sydney reported that they were leaving the hotel after Kessler no-showed, which meant this path to the xenobium was his only option. He didn’t hear from his men again, so he had to assume that they’d been caught or worse.
With the next flight to Easter Island from Peru not scheduled to arrive until later that evening, the only other jet on the island was a C-17, which must have been sent by the Americans to intercept Colchev. The Gulfstream’s refueling stop in Tahiti had to be the reason the Air Force had beaten him here. The C-17’s range was much farther, so it could fly nonstop, perhaps even refueling in mid-air on the way. Colchev’s jet had to go far out of the way to make the vast distance across the Pacific.
He was sure that the Americans noted his Gulfstream’s arrival, but the tail number would only lead them to the billionaire’s front company based in the Bahamas. Still, seeing a bunch of men step off the plane would raise suspicions, so Colchev had hired two models in Sydney to come along on the trip. When the private jet landed and went through the cursory immigration and customs check, the observers on the C-17 would see two of his men, Kiselow and Chopiak, deplane with the girls and think they were nothing more than extravagant tourists.
Colchev’s late arrival on the island meant that the Americans had a head start. Simply going out to the site mapped out on Dombrovski’s photo of the wood engraving wouldn’t work. And his first order of business was to cover his rear, which meant taking out anyone on the Air Force jet.
Instead of attempting a direct assault, Colchev, who stayed on the plane with Zotkin in case he’d be recognized, decided deception was the better choice. He instructed Kiselow and Chopiak to drop the models at a hotel in Hanga Roa, where they checked into a reserved room. Then his men took their rented vehicle to a remote location along the shore and called the police asking for help. When the lone police car arrived, his men shot the policeman and dumped him into the ocean.
The whole plan had gone smoothly. Kiselow and Chopiak drove the hijacked police car to the C-17 leisurely, as if they were just making a courtesy call. Before the man guarding the plane could tell that they weren’t Easter Island cops, he was shot twice, the action shielded from the tower’s view by the immense plane’s fuselage. With the element of surprise complete, an ambush took out all four men aboard the jet without drawing any attention at the sleepy airport.
Colchev and Zotkin joined the two other men in the police car and set out for the location described on the map. From a distance they saw a Suzuki 4x4 parked near the ocean-side cliff.
Colchev had instructed Zotkin to drive toward the SUV slowly so that the vehicle’s occupants wouldn’t become suspicious. There were three people in view, a woman inside the Suzuki and two men holding assault rifles walking toward the cliff. They had to be security guards protecting Tyler.
The woman honked the SUV’s horn, causing the two guards to whirl around. When they saw that it was a police car, the younger blond man waved and started walking toward them while the older curly-haired one stood near the cliff.
When they got within twenty-five meters, Colchev raised his own AK-47 and shot the blond man, who crumpled to the ground. Chopiak fired at the other man who fell over the edge of the cliff. Neither of Tyler’s guards got a shot off.
Zotkin then sped toward the SUV as the woman, whom Colchev now recognized as Fay Turia, jumped out and ran toward the ocean. They intercepted her just as gunfire rang out from the cliff’s edge. A bullet slammed through the rear driver’s side window, killing Chopiak instantly. Chopiak must have missed or only injured the second man, who had to have landed on a ledge. Kiselow returned fire, and the guard ducked for cover.
“Keep your aim on him,” Colchev said. “If he shows his head again, blow it off.”
Colchev leaped out and grabbed Fay. She kicked and punched him but was no match for Colchev’s bulk. He put her hand in a controlling grip, making sure not to snap it.
“Calm down, Mrs. Turia. There’s nothing you can do now.”
“Screw you!”
“You are a feisty grandmother, aren’t you?”
“Let go!”
“No.” He plucked a video camera from her hand. “What do we have here?”
“Family photos.”
“I don’t think so. I think you found something. Let’s see what.”
Kiselow fired again, but his shot missed. It did, however, keep the guard pinned.
Colchev peered at the LCD display and saw that it was video from inside a cave. He fast-forwarded through it, watching Tyler Locke and Jess McBride occasionally making appearances. Intriguing. It provided everything he had to know to find the xenobium. He slowed the playback when he got to the part showing Tyler waving around a radiation detector. After a look of alarm crossed Tyler’s face, he turned to Fay and the video ended.
“Where is the xenobium fragment?” Colchev asked her.
She remained silent, but her eyes inadvertently flicked to the Suzuki.
“Zotkin,” Colchev said, “search their vehicle.”
Zotkin scuttled over to the 4x4, keeping the police car between him and the guard. In a minute he returned carrying a silver case. He put it down in the grass and opened it.
“No!” Colchev shouted when he saw the pea-sized bit of xenobium. It wasn’t the large specimen in the photo from Dombrovski’s lab. “
“That isn’t …” Zotkin said, stumbling over his words. “If that’s all there is, our mission is over.”
“I know that!” Colchev yelled before calming himself. “It’s all right. All this does is prove that Dombrovski was right. The photograph we found wasn’t a forgery. The xenobium we need was in fact hidden by the Nazca. Mrs. Turia has given us the information we need to get it.”
“Colchev!” came a man’s shout from the cliff’s edge. “Colchev!”
Colchev peeked around the corner of the police car but couldn’t see anyone. “Who is that?”
“My name’s Tyler Locke.”
“Dr. Locke, you keep popping up in the wrong place. I remember you from the hood of my road train.”
“And I remember you killing Nadia Bedova. Now let Fay go!”
“Why should I?”
“Take me in her place.”
“Again, why should I?”
“Because she’ll slow you down.”
“She seems spry enough to me.”
“What do you want then?”
“Come out with your hands up.”
“No. We know you stole the Killswitch weapons, Colchev.”
