Eddie hit the waves again, this time managing to stay upright and holding his legs out straight in front of him to use his feet as impromptu waterskis. Each crest pummelled him as he was pulled along.
He saw the Coast Guard cutter looming ahead. The Cessna levelled, then regained height. The rope tightened. In another second, he too would be airborne—
He let go.
Arms windmilling, Eddie skied along the water for over a hundred feet, finally losing his balance and falling over. He skipped like a stone, bouncing once, twice, before hitting the cutter’s side with a
Above, de Quesada had been forced to roll the Cessna almost on its side to avoid a crash, shooting between the cutter’s elevated bridge and radar mast with less than a foot of clearance. He straightened with an exultant whoop, turning the plane towards Panamanian airspace—
The speedboat, still bounding along at the end of the rope, collided with the cutter.
The Coast Guard boat rolled with the impact – but the plane fared worse. The float was ripped away – along with a chunk of the wing at the top of the support brace and a large section of the fuselage floor.
De Quesada screamed as he suddenly found himself with nothing but open air beneath his feet. The yoke went slack, control cables severed. The ailerons drooped, sending the crippled aircraft inexorably towards the glittering water—
It smashed into the sea at over eighty knots. The impact crushed the damaged fuselage like a beer can, impaling de Quesada on the control yoke. Fuel lines ruptured, avgas gushing over hot metal. What was left of the Skyhawk exploded in a flash of orange fire and oily black smoke.
Eddie surfaced beside the cutter, broken bits of boat raining around him. He spotted the plastic bag containing the late drug lord’s belongings floating nearby and swam to collect it before shouting up to the deck. ‘Oi! Man overboard!’
One of the boat’s stunned crew peered down at him, then tossed a knotted line over the side. Eddie clambered up. The Cessna’s burning remains were strewn along the water in the distance. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said to the crewman. ‘That’s the last time I fly on a no-frills airline.’
The villa’s interior was every bit as expensive as its exterior suggested, but one room stood out above all others. Nina gazed down at the golden sun disc set into the bathroom floor. ‘Unbelievable,’ she said, half in amazement, half in disgust. ‘Spending fifty million dollars on one of the most incredible Inca relics ever discovered . . . and then doing
‘If you’ve got more money than you can ever spend, I suppose you get daft with it eventually,’ said Eddie, drying his hair with one of de Quesada’s towels. After his rescue, the Coast Guard ship had landed at the island, and the surviving members of the drug lord’s gang had surrendered. The remaining speedboat had been used to ferry Nina and the SWAT team from the mainland. ‘So, we found the sun disc, and I got the khipu off el druggio. Plus we saved the world the cost of the bastard’s trial. Job done, I think.’
‘Is the khipu okay?’
‘Far as I know. It was sealed in a bag with a bunch of other stuff – passports, cash, stuff like that. Kit’s checking through it all.’
‘And are you okay?’
He patted his jeans. ‘Bit damp, still. Banged-up, shot at, the usual. Nothing too serious.’ In truth, one knee had a searing ache from his impact with the cliff and the friction burns on his palms still stung, but he covered the discomfort. ‘What about you?’
Nina’s hand went to the Band-Aid one of Probst’s men had applied to a cut on her face. ‘I’m okay. Just had a scratchy landing when I bailed out of that truck. But it was pretty muddy, which broke the fall.’
‘You’re lucky you didn’t break the rest of you,’ Eddie said. ‘It was a bloody stupid risk.’
‘Oh, kettle, pot!’ she snapped. ‘And if I hadn’t done it, de Quesada would have gotten away – and you would have been dragged along behind his plane like a banner advertising balding Englishmen.’
‘The difference is, this kind of stuff is what I do.’
‘No, it isn’t! Not any more. You work for the United Nations now, not a stunt troupe. Every time I watch you doing something like this, I almost have a heart attack because . . .’ Her voice fell. ‘Because I’m scared that I’m about to watch you die.’
‘I’m not gonna die, okay?’ he said firmly. ‘Just ’cause I don’t bounce as much as I used to doesn’t mean I’ll smash like Humpty bastard Dumpty if I take a bit of a fall.’
‘There’s a difference between a bit of a fall and a hundredfoot drop off a cliff,’ Nina pointed out. ‘And when people are actively trying to kill you . . . ’
‘You’d think they’d learn,’ Eddie snorted. ‘Anyone who tries to kill me gets fucked up.’
‘Who’s trying to kill you?’ Kit asked, appearing in the doorway.
‘Nobody at the moment, thank God,’ said Nina. She gave Eddie a look that promised the discussion was not over, then turned to the Interpol officer. ‘Have you searched the rest of the house?’
‘Yes. Some of his other artworks are on the CPCU’s list of stolen items, although nothing on the scale of that.’ He indicated the sun disc. ‘And the bag Eddie recovered contained a phone with a list of de Quesada’s contacts around the world – that should be very useful.’ His optimistic look clouded. ‘I just wish it hadn’t cost twelve of the good guys’ lives to get it.’
‘Almost thirteen,’ Nina said quietly. Eddie decided to ignore her.
‘There’s another thing,’ Kit said. ‘Eddie, can you take a look at something?’
‘What is it?’ asked Nina.
‘Just . . . something Eddie might be able to identify with his military experience. Nina, can you photograph the sun disc so we can send pictures to Interpol and the UN, please?’ He handed her a digital camera.
