soldier, still guarding Valero, pushed the handset’s transmit button and started speaking in urgent Spanish. The word
More troops would be coming . . .
Eddie dived at the tent. The whole thing collapsed, knocking the Venezuelan down under the flapping fabric. The radio hit the stone flags with a heavy
The soldier had managed to keep hold of his AK. He fired wildly, bullets pitting the buildings at the plaza’s edge. Valero rolled for cover behind a tree. Eddie scrambled to his feet and kicked, catching the soldier’s arm and sending the AK-103 spinning across the plaza.
The Venezuelan grimaced, shaking off the camouflaged shroud. He looked for his gun, saw it was out of reach, turned back to face Eddie – and drew a knife.
Eddie took on a defensive posture, judging his opponent. The Venezuelan was bigger than him, and probably fifteen years younger. He would have faster reactions, but less experience and training – his uniform was regular army, not special forces. The Englishman’s gaze flitted between the six-inch blade and his opponent’s eyes, waiting for the first sign of the inevitable attack—
The knife thrust at his chest. Eddie twisted to avoid it, then tried to grab the soldier’s wrist, but the Venezuelan had already pulled back. Another stab, another dodge, the razor edge this time close enough to rasp against his jacket’s steel zip.
Third strike—
Eddie gripped the soldier’s arm – but the knife sliced across his chest, tearing his T-shirt. He grunted at the sharp pain, battling to keep hold as the man tried to shake him off. A sweep of his elbow, the point cracking against the soldier’s face just under his left eye socket.
The Venezuelan staggered, giving Eddie the chance to chop at his hand, trying to force him to drop the knife. Another fierce blow, the soldier’s grip loosening . . .
The man shoved Eddie backwards across the uneven stone slabs into a patch of mud. With one last strike Eddie finally knocked the knife away, but his feet slipped in the ooze. One boot lost its grip, and he fell.
He landed on his back with a thick splash, the soldier on top of him. And now it was the Venezuelan’s turn to use his elbow, driving it down with all his weight into Eddie’s stomach.
Even tensing his abdominal muscles to absorb the impact, Eddie still convulsed in sickening, breathless pain. His groan was choked off as the man clamped his hands round his throat. He tried to claw at the soldier’s eyes, but the Venezuelan pulled back out of Eddie’s reach as he squeezed harder—
The pressure abruptly eased. The soldier was no longer looking down at Eddie, but at something above. The Yorkshireman tipped his head back to see an inverted world, buildings hanging over the empty abyss of the sky . . . and an upside-down Nina pointing an AK-103 at his attacker.
A quick flick of her eyebrows told the soldier to release him. Eddie drew in a hoarse breath as his adversary nervously withdrew, and sat up. ‘You okay?’ Nina asked.
He coughed. ‘Bit of a hairball. What about the others?’
‘Macy’s fine, Cuff’ll need a trip to the orthodontist but looked okay apart from that. Kit’s watching the other guy; everyone else got up the wall.’
‘Good.’ He stood, giving the soldier a threatening glare before calling to Valero. ‘Oscar!’ He pointed to the fallen AK. ‘Get the gun – I’ll tie him up.’
Nina kept her rifle aimed at the soldier as Valero retrieved the second Kalashnikov. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘If loggers found this place, what’s the army doing here?’
‘Maybe loggers did find it,’ said Eddie, tugging a length of guy rope from the tent. ‘But they wouldn’t know how to sell the stuff they found, so they started asking around – and word got back to someone at that radar base. Quick arrest, bit of an interrogation, and now someone with stripes on their sleeve knows all about Paititi – and how much treasure’s hidden in it.’ He pulled the rope through the last eyelet and lifted the canvas - to expose a field radio lying on its side, the handset trapped beneath it. The transmit light was on. ‘Buggeration and fuckery,’ he said, lifting the radio and seeing that the handset’s key had been depressed by the unit’s weight; as soon as it was released, the channel cleared and an urgent voice crackled through the speaker. He hurriedly switched it off. ‘He managed to warn his mates – we need to get out of here.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Nina as Eddie tied up the soldier. She gestured towards the large buildings at the plaza’s western end. ‘We need to at least check the temple and the palace first. These guys have already stolen potentially millions of dollars of artefacts – we’ve got to see if there’s anything left before they strip the whole place bare.’
‘We don’t have time. If they think somebody’s found their little secret, they’ll probably be on their way here already.’
‘No, I agree with Dr Wilde,’ said Valero. ‘It took us over two hours to reach here from Valverde – it will take even longer from the military base. If we take the road south to Matuso, they will never catch up with us. And when we get to the Jeep, I can use the satellite phone to report to the Bolivarian Militia. The more I know about what is here, the more I can tell my superiors.’
Eddie didn’t like the idea of delaying their getaway, but Valero was right; it would take some time for more soldiers to reach them. ‘Okay, but be quick about it. Ten minutes, no more.’
It took over half that long just to assemble all the expedition members. Both soldiers were tied to a tree, Eddie and Kit taking their weapons after Valero recovered his pistol. With Eddie pointedly checking his watch, the group hurried up the broad steps to the Temple of the Sun.
Where something incredible awaited them.
11
‘My God!’ Nina gasped, Osterhagen echoing her words in German. Everyone stared in amazement. The chamber was roofless where the wood had long since decayed, but an overhanging tree blotted out most of the light. At the east end was a single window . . . facing the wonder opposite.
Mounted on the west wall was a metal disc, a stylised face surrounded by elaborate patterns of spirals and
