Empire of Gold

‘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 Bogota. 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 Inkarri!’ 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.