Empire of Gold

waist. The water level was rising rapidly in the confined space, more surging in every second—

The wall beneath the window cracked – and broke apart.

Eddie almost lost his grip under the powerful suction of water rushing out through the new hole. It cascaded on to the buildings below, sweeping the broken stones with it – and exposing something beneath them.

From the palace roof, Nina watched the spreading waters, conflicted. The rocket launcher, now slung over her shoulder, had given Eddie and the others a chance of escape – but they were still in danger. She could see Macy fearfully climbing a building, cut off by the torrent, but the rest of the explorers were out of sight. And the ruins themselves were under threat; as she watched, a wall crumbled behind Macy like a sandcastle in a rising tide.

The palace itself trembled under her feet. She spun in alarm. The building was taking the full force of the escaping water – and a chunk of its rear wall collapsed in a waterlogged implosion. Pillars toppled like dominoes, a chain reaction of disintegrating masonry advancing on her—

She screamed and made a running jump off the roof just as it broke apart, landing painfully on a lower wall. Spray and froth crashed over her. She gasped for breath, then looked back at the fallen section . . .

Her pain and fear disappeared, replaced by utter amazement.

Pachac had been right. There was more gold hidden in the ancient city. Quite literally – behind the carefully interlocked stones from which the palace was built, she saw the unmistakable sheen of precious metal, cast into rectangular slabs. The Incas had kept more than the Punchaco hidden from the Spanish, an unimaginable fortune concealed inside the walls. Despite her precarious situation, she actually laughed in genuine delight.

In the temple, Eddie had made a similar discovery. ‘Doc!’ he shouted. ‘Look at the wall!’

Osterhagen found secure footing. He turned – and gasped. Jutting from the edges of the jagged hole were large golden bricks, gleaming in the daylight coming through the cave mouth. ‘The city of gold!’ he cried. ‘It’s true, the legend is true!’

Suddenly, the light became brighter.

The advancing wave hit the great defensive wall. The reservoir was filled in a moment, a huge backwash exploding into the air as the drainage holes were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of water. More plunged down the shaft, sweeping away the bodies of Pachac’s men, but even this was not enough to relieve the pressure.

A huge section of the wall bulged outwards – and toppled with a cacophonous boom. The water rushed down its new escape route, sweeping over the rubble into the drained pool outside. The river channel that had carried away the overflow filled again, a tidal surge charging through the jungle towards the valley.

Almost as if satisfied with its destructive efforts, the flow of water began to ease. Most of the underground reserve had now drained away. The roar fell to a rumbling growl.

Stikes, climbing down to another rooftop, heard the change and looked up the slope. The torrent’s fury was dying. There was still a lot of water gushing through the streets, but no longer with deadly force.

That didn’t alter his objective. Plenty of damage had already been inflicted on the Inca settlement, the thumps of falling stonework echoing all around him. The sooner he got to the helicopter with his prize, the better.

Prizes, plural. Another sound caught his attention: a coughing groan. Not far away, Kit clung to a pillar as the flood washed around him. Stikes drew his gun and pointed it at the Indian. ‘Jindal!’ Kit looked up at him through half-closed eyes, confused - then shocked. ‘Don’t move. We’ve still got some business together.’

The raging water trying to tear Mac loose subsided. He shifted position, keeping hold of his prosthetic leg with one hand as he used the other to grip a jutting block and pull himself higher. Taking his weight on his right leg, he freed his trapped foot, then splashed down to solid ground. The water reached his shins, but was quickly falling.

He sloshed back up towards the square to search for his friends, discovering to his annoyance that he was limping: the strain had bent his artificial foot out of alignment. ‘I’ll have a job kicking anyone’s arse with that,’ he muttered.

Gurov completed his hurried pre-flight checks and twisted in his cockpit seat to look back at Krikorian. ‘Come on, close the fucking hatch!’

The Armenian was struggling with a catch. ‘It’s stuck, I can’t lock it!’ He bashed at the panel with a fist, trying to force it shut.

Even though the flood seemed to be slowing, Gurov still wanted to get the hell out of the cave. ‘I’m starting her. Just get it closed before we take off!’

He flicked switches. With a whine of turbines, the engines came to life, the heavy rotor blades slowly beginning to turn.

Further down the hill, the bedraggled Pachac pulled himself out of the water up a short flight of steps. Another of his men was already there, panting and clutching his bleeding arm, and nearby he heard moans and calls for help. ‘Comrades! Can you hear me?’ he shouted. ‘Who’s still with me?’

One by one, his remaining followers responded. Eight men altogether – all that was left of his original force of over twenty. ‘What do we do, Inkarri?’ one asked.

Pachac looked towards the cave mouth. Now that part of the wall had collapsed, it would be easy for them to reach the jungle outside. ‘We need to get out of here and contact the rest of the True Red Way,’ he decided. ‘The Punchaco is here – we can’t let the government get it. We need more men so we can take it ourselves.’

‘But it’s huge, it weighs tons!’ protested another rebel. ‘How are we going to get it down the road?’

‘We’ll steal a truck!’ He pointed at two men. ‘Mauro, Juan, when we get outside you guard the cave. If any of the archaeologists survived and try to escape, kill them.’

Heads turned towards the rising sound of the Hind. ‘What about the mercenaries?’ said the first man.