unexplored, a feat that would be accomplished from thousands of miles away. Maybe the technology wasn't all the way there yet, but soon enough they would not only be able to thoroughly map the entire globe, from the deepest oceanic trenches to the most inaccessible mountaintops, but they would be able to discern the composition of the soil and anything buried beneath it. Then the spoils of the planet would be laid bare for men who specialized in creative solutions and high-risk extractions. Men like Leo, or he had hoped, his son.
The anger flared again and he had to grind his teeth to suppress it. This was not the time for emotions, which were a variable he refused to allow into the equation he now scrutinized. This was business, and business was never personal. Once they safely reached their destination, however...
He returned his attention to the image on the computer screen, which reminded him of viewing some sort of rugged object through a microscope, only slightly out-of-focus to soften and blur the edges. He had purchased the services of NASA's Landsat 7 satellite to survey some of the densest unexplored terrain around the world in hopes of finding something special. The satellite had already proven its worth by locating and detailing indigenous ruins throughout the Americas, even beneath otherwise impregnable forestation and several feet of accumulated soil. Where climate and terrain made aerial reconnaissance impossible, Landsat stepped in and worked miracles. It didn't provide mere satellite photographs. Landsat was equipped with an array of remote sensing devices that could focus on areas as small as a few square miles, with pixel sizes of 30 meters, and generate some of the most detailed images imaginable. All Leo had needed to do was provide exact coordinates---and a boatload of cash---and the brain trust at NASA had been able to program the satellite to change orbit and fly over. Granted, it had taken months to wade through the waiting list and coincide the timing with the ideal weather conditions, but the end result had surpassed even his wildest expectations.
He had specifically requested three different types of remote sensing. The standard imaging provided a topographical lay of the land, a generic map of sorts. The multispectral imaging created a precise, color-coded picture based on the absorptive and reflective properties of the minerals in the rocks, soil, and vegetation. And the sonar signals constructed the physical aspects and contours of the ground and upper strata of the soil. Their combined data allowed for the creation of a digital elevation model, a three-dimensional representation of the zone of interest right down to the phosphorous soil beneath a grove of Brazil nut trees.
Unfortunately, his geographical guess hadn't been as accurate as he would have liked.
The map covered a secluded area of roughly twenty-five square miles of steep mountains and sheer canyons separated by close to five thousand nearly vertical feet of lush tropical forest. A blotchy haze eclipsed a good portion of the detail from the cloud cover that clung to the higher ground essentially year round, part of the reason so much of this region remained uncharted. A rainbow of pixellated color dotted the screen, concentrated in some areas and diffused in others. The sides of the grid featured wedge-shaped dead zones, a consequence of the Landsat's scan line correction system malfunction in 2003, where the satellite was unable to accurately rectify the geographical data. On the very edge of one such anomaly was a bright splash of white that reflected a distinct mineral concentration near the summit of a ten thousand-foot peak. The mineral signature was unmistakable, but the size of the lode was indeterminate thanks to the unfortunate cropping.
This was the reason he had sent his son to his death.
'You should probably get some sleep,' Colton said. Leo had been so absorbed in thought that he hadn't heard the man enter his office. 'We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.'
Leo nodded, but he knew there would be no rest for him tonight. He'd barely slept since he lost contact with Hunter weeks ago anyway.
'I trust all of the pieces are in place,' Leo said.
Colton eased into the chair across from him. 'As you requested. Dr. Russell's flight will arrive in Lima shortly after ours.' He paused. 'He's only going to slow us down. He's gone soft as a marshmallow. Are you completely sure he's the best choice?'
'I need to know the significance of the feathers. Hunter wouldn't have packed them, especially if he were abandoning camp under duress, if they didn't have some meaning. I'll carry Russell across the entire Andes range on my back if I have to. If anyone can discover their importance, it's him.'
'And this documentary crew? You know how I feel about it. Are you sure toting them along is a good idea?'
'Advanced Explorations owns the principle interest in Four Winds Productions for this very reason. I want everything recorded. This will be Hunter's memorial. And also our cover story. We don't want to draw more attention to ourselves than necessary, especially considering we're potentially dealing with tens of millions of dollars here. Everything needs to be done by the book, and it needs to be documented.'
Colton shrugged, but the tight line of his lips betrayed his disapproval.
'I've hand-selected the four men who will be working as our excavation labor,' Colton said, changing the subject. 'They are all exceptionally well-qualified for their designated tasks.' He smirked. 'I only hope they can dig, too.'
'What about the details of Hunter's death?'
'Other than my guys, no one has any reason to believe it was anything other than an accident.'
Leo leaned back and sighed wearily.
'And none of them suspect the true purpose of this expedition?'
'You mean the gold ore?'
'Recovering the gold is a foregone conclusion. We only need to formalize the logistics.'
Leo rose from his chair and turned his back on Colton. He could feel the man's stare burning into his back as he surveyed his realm, watching as the distant city lights twinkled into being and the shadow of the coming night settled over the land.
'I intend to find out who's responsible for my son's death,' Leo said in the tired voice of an old man. 'And then I'm going to kill him.'
Chapter Two
I
Merritt knifed down through the wispy clouds that would shroud Laguna Pomacochas until the morning sun burned them off. The night was a solid black, save the flashers on his wings, which diffused into the mist, pale haloes of light that barely penetrated the cabin. He had made this run to and from Chiclayo so many times that he could have done it blindfolded, only this time he was thankful for even the wan glow so he could study his passengers. They weren't his normal fare. They obviously weren't tourists, nor were they locals. Usually, a flight like this in such an old plane, which rocked and swayed and made popping sounds as though rivets snapped with every hint of turbulence, had his passengers constantly fidgeting with their flimsy lap belts and turning green around the gills, but this group appeared unfazed. This definitely wasn't their first sojourn into the South American wilds.
'We're going to circle around the lake before landing on the water and taxiing to that pier you can vaguely make out through the clouds on the western shore by the town proper.' He spoke into the microphone, though only the woman in the copilot's chair was wearing cans. The other six sat in the seats behind them, faces alternately hidden and revealed by shadows. With the roar of the engines and the shriek of wind-shear, they wouldn't have been able to hear him even if he shouted at the top of his lungs.
The woman leaned forward so she could see past him through his window. He dipped the wing to give her a better view. Like the others, she looked as though she had spent the past twenty hours in transit, yet when she saw the darkened silhouette of the City of Pomacochas rising up the slope beyond the pier, she lit up. A few stray strands of jet-black hair had slipped out from beneath her headset. She brushed them aside and stared through him with the most exotic eyes he had ever seen.
'First time in Peru?' he asked.
