Bartlemore reached into his coat pocket and removed a small wallet. He flipped it open and handed it to Andy. At the sight of it, Andy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was a badge and an ID. And unless they were exceptionally good forgeries, everything about them seemed genuine.
“I…I didn’t…”
Bartlemore replaced the wallet in his pocket with a toothy grin. “Hard to believe, but there it is. Tea?”
Andy nodded weakly. Bartlemore poured tea into each of their cups, and Andy, his hands shaking a little, took a sip from the excellent brew to steady his nerves.
“The reason I’m following you is because I am not only a close friend of your grandfather’s, but I am also trying to prevent a major catastrophe.”
“You know my grandfather?” Andy asked.
“Ned Lostmore? Of course. Known him for years. I was very sorry to hear about his unfortunate…change. Truth is, we warned him about exploring that temple in the first place. We expected an ambush from the Collective.”
“You know about them, too?” Andy blurted.
“There’s very little we don’t know about the Jungle Explorers’ Society and its enemies. Your grandfather keeps us abreast of all the artifacts under his protection. Once he made you his new Keymaster, we knew it would only be a matter of time before we met you.”
Bartlemore looked troubled. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t be under such unfortunate circumstances, but I’ve been waiting for a chance to pull you aside. The fact that you missed the plane with the others provided the perfect opportunity for us to talk.”
The flight attendant returned with a silver tray piled high with delicious-looking sandwiches. Andy felt extremely hungry all of a sudden and was very happy for the distraction. He was having a hard time registering everything Bartlemore had told him. He bit into a sandwich of thickly sliced ham on fluffy white bread as he listened to the agent continue.
“You’re aware that your grandfather has been concerned that there’s a spy in your midst?”
Andy nodded as he chewed. Ned had told him as much at the end of his last adventure. Professor Phink had been a step ahead of them the entire time they’d been searching for the Pailina Pendant, and Ned was convinced that the Jungle Explorers’ Society’s whereabouts and intentions had been compromised by a traitor.
“We have a pretty good idea who it is,” Bartlemore said. “But the last thing we need is for them to think that we’re on to them. The camera Charlie is carrying isn’t a camera at all, by the way. It’s a weapon.”
Andy boggled at him. “A weapon?”
Bartlemore nodded. “Why do you think we have it pointed at Rusty Bucketts all the time?”
Andy gasped. “You mean that he…Rusty…is the traitor? But that’s impossible!”
Bartlemore sighed. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But at this point, he’s our most likely suspect. He’s close to your grandfather and knows most of what the Society has planned before anyone else.”
“But I can’t believe that. We’re friends! And besides, I’ve seen him fight. He battled Professor Phink’s men with the rest of us. He can’t be a spy!”
“We’re not absolutely certain, but the evidence is mounting against him. We think that he’s working as a double agent.”
Andy’s mind reeled with the implications. Rusty was the de facto leader of the group when his grandfather wasn’t around. The only person who held a higher rank was Abigail’s father, Albert.
Bartlemore’s gaze softened as he watched the conflicting emotions playing over Andy’s face. “Look, son, I know it’s difficult to accept. But if what we think is indeed true, then this particular mission could be one of the most hazardous the Society has ever undertaken. Your grandfather wanted you to be aware so that you could take extra precautions.”
The special agent opened the leatherbound folder he’d been studying earlier and pushed it across the table to Andy. The boy gazed down at a black-and-white photo of an old painting. Examining it, Andy could see that it depicted an Incan warrior in a feathered headdress, holding something aloft in his hand.
“What is it?” Andy asked.
“That is the Golden Paw. Or a painting of it, anyway. If our enemies get it before we do, the world as we know it could come to an end.”
Andy squinted at the painting, trying to make out the details. He could see that the man holding the golden ornament was standing on a pile of bones and that he wore an exultant expression.
“I thought that my grandfather was going to let us know what was going on when we got to Cuzco. How do you know about this?”
“Your grandfather and I have already been in contact. What I’m about to tell you is nothing that you won’t find out soon enough. But it’s important that you know now so that you’ll know what to do when we get there.”
Andy listened as Bartlemore detailed what the legend said that the Golden Paw was capable of. As the agent spoke, Andy couldn’t help wondering if he was off his rocker. Even though Andy had seen what magic could do on his last adventure, the Golden Paw’s abilities seemed too fantastic to believe.
“So what you’re saying is that not only can anyone who possesses it transform themselves to look like someone else, but that it also gives the wearer superhuman strength?”
“So the legends say.” Bartlemore looked thoughtful. “But, truth be told, nobody is quite sure how it works. In fact, as you know, until we received intelligence that the Collective was actively searching for it, we didn’t even think that it was real.”
“I can see why,” Andy said thoughtfully. He closed the folder and passed it back to Bartlemore. “So if the Collective gets their hands on it first, they’ll be able to impersonate anybody they want to. Then what? Steal money? Rob banks? Impersonate world leaders?”
