Empire of Gold

He regarded the tall, bony German. ‘I’m glad he went for the Indy look. I wouldn’t want to see him in Lycra and hot pants.’ His smile widened. ‘Now Macy, on the other hand . . . ’ His wife batted his arm.

Valverde was about two kilometres south of the Orinoco, its airstrip between the two. It was only a ten- minute walk from the Grande to what passed as a terminal, a hut with radio masts rising not quite vertically from its roof. The expedition members had been flown in by government helicopters, but the waiting aircraft was considerably more basic – a Cessna Caravan, a single-propeller, nine-seater light plane that was as unexciting and utilitarian in appearance as its name suggested.

‘Oh,’ said Cuff in sneering disappointment. ‘That’s what we’re flying in? I was hoping for something a bit less prehistoric.’

Valero seemed insulted. ‘It’s only twenty-five years old, perfectly safe. What did you expect? A jumbo jet?’

Cuff wasn’t satisfied. ‘Whatever, it’d better be well maintained if you expect me to set foot in it. Although somehow I doubt Venezuelan airworthiness testing is quite up to FAA standards . . .’

Eddie had already taken a dislike to the smug twenty-something, and decided he wasn’t going to put up with an entire flight of whining. ‘Hey, Dave, how about not pissing off the guy we need to keep us from a fiery screaming death?’

The already nervous Loretta looked even more upset at the thought, but Cuff responded with a haughty huff. ‘It’s not Dave. It’s Day. Day F. Cuff.’

‘Oh, of the Boston Cuffs, no doubt,’ Eddie said in his Roger Moore voice, guessing that he was supposed to be impressed. ‘Well, since it’s going to be a long flight, either stop moaning or F. Cuff off.’

‘Eddie,’ Nina chided, trying to conceal her amusement.

Cuff’s mood was far more readable. ‘You know, Leonard,’ he said to Osterhagen, ‘I think I’ll sit this out. Aerial surveys aren’t my speciality.’

Osterhagen frowned, but nodded. ‘And Loretta, you don’t look very happy. Do you want to stay here too?’

‘Thank you,’ Loretta said with a relieved sigh. ‘I really don’t like flying. I – I’m sure this is a very good plane,’ she hurriedly added to Valero, ‘but it makes me nervous.’

The Venezuelan shrugged. ‘Two less people, it saves me fuel. No problem!’

Cuff set off back towards town, Loretta following. Macy nudged Eddie. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered.

‘For what?’

‘For getting rid of him. What a creep. Didn’t you see the way he was staring at me?’

‘Nah, I was too busy looking at your tits,’ said Eddie, grinning - earning him swats from both the remaining women.

Everyone boarded the plane as Valero circled it to make his pre-flight checks. That done, he clambered inside and took a navigation chart from a door pocket. ‘Okay, this is where we go,’ he said, pointing out the planned search pattern. ‘We keep out of this grid, though.’ He tapped a rectangular marking near the border. ‘Military airspace.’

‘Be just our luck if what we’re looking for is right in the middle of some army base,’ said Eddie, checking the map for settlements and landmarks. It was unlikely that anything would go wrong during the flight, but he preferred to be prepared.

Valero shook his head. ‘If the military had found anything, President Suarez would know. No point sending you to look for something he already knows about, hey?’ He fastened his seatbelt. ‘Okay, you ready?’

‘Let’s go,’ said Nina.

Valero donned his headphones and started the engine, steering the Cessna to the end of the landing strip. He spoke with local air traffic control over his headset, then looked back at his passengers. ‘Hold on tight,’ he said. ‘This will be bumpy.’

He revved the engine to full, then released the brakes. The Cessna surged forward. Macy yelped as she was jolted about, and Nina gripped her seat as hard as she could to hold herself in place. Even though the worst of the unpaved runway’s dips and humps had been bulldozed out, it felt like riding a bicycle with flat tyres over jagged rocks.

‘Glad we didn’t – pack the – fine china for the picnic,’ Eddie managed to get out through his rattling teeth.

Valero laughed, adjusting the trim controls and pulling back on the control yoke. The Cessna tipped back, then a few seconds later the battering stopped as it left the ground. Sounds of relief filled the cabin.

‘Jeez,’ said Nina. ‘The only rougher flight I’ve had was the one that crashed!’ Another laugh from Valero, and he brought the Caravan up to two thousand feet before turning to begin the aerial survey.

The Cessna had been chosen for the task because its wings were mounted above the fuselage, giving its occupants an uninterrupted view of the landscape. The low cruising altitude was near enough to the ground to let the observers pick out details, but still give them the expansive overview they needed. The Orinoco, in places an almost mile-wide gently snaking line of reflected sky and patchy cloud, passed below; on each side, green pointillist swathes of dense jungle, dotted with darker patches of swampland, stretched off to the horizon.

Macy gazed down at the rainforest, awed by its scale. ‘How are we going to spot anything in all that?’

Osterhagen was the expert. ‘We look for straight lines – any sign of artificial construction. It’s how the ruins of a pre-Colombian civilisation were found on the border of Brazil and Bolivia about ten years ago.’

‘Also watch for sawtooth patterns, zigzags,’ added Becker, waving a finger to illustrate. ‘The Incas often built defensive walls that way.’