Bartlemore nodded. “Probably. We don’t know all their plans, but just think of the implications. All the world’s secrets laid bare to a criminal mastermind. We just can’t afford to let that happen.”
“And you think Rusty is working for them? That he’ll steal the Golden Paw once we find it?”
“More than likely,” Bartlemore said. “That’s why we’re going to stick close. We know that the Collective is searching for the paw, but we suspect they are hedging their bets in case we find it before they do. When you reunite with the others, Bucketts will probably make following you difficult for Charlie and me. I need you to leave some kind of bread-crumb trail for us to follow if he gets too tricky. Besides, you’re going to want Charlie and me nearby should you get into trouble.”
Andy looked uncomfortable as Bartlemore continued. “Look, there’s a lot riding on this. If Bucketts gets his hands on the paw, what could be simpler than claiming that the Jungle Explorers’ Society has beaten the Collective, only to turn the paw over to them shortly thereafter?”
“But why would he do that?” Andy asked. “He just doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would betray his friends for personal gain.”
Bartlemore’s expression hardened. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. Look at me. Would you have expected a silly jungle serial actor to work for the government?”
Andy had to admit to himself that Bartlemore was right. It was certainly something he’d have never considered before.
Andy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so you said that you and my grandfather want me to be prepared. What is it you need me to do?”
Bartlemore leaned forward in his chair. “You’re the Keymaster. If we actually do find the Golden Paw, we need you to lock it up in this….”
Bartlemore reached under his seat and produced a sturdy-looking box with a small brass key. Andy gazed at it skeptically.
“What’s to keep Rusty, or whoever the spy is, from just attacking me and grabbing the box? It doesn’t seem very safe.”
“Watch,” Bartlemore said. He inserted the key into the box and lifted the lid. “When you get the Golden Paw, you’ll put it in here and then press this button.”
Andy watched as Bartlemore pressed a small switch positioned underneath the lid. A loud humming noise filled the air, and Andy felt the little hairs on his arms stand on end. It was like some kind of powerful energy was emanating from the box.
The next thing Andy knew, the box began to shimmer and then, amazingly, it faded from view.
Andy couldn’t believe his eyes! The strange humming noise stopped, and the energy field that he’d been experiencing faded with it.
“Where’d it go?” he said, awestruck.
“It’s still here, only it’s invisible,” Bartlemore said with a grin. “Your grandfather lent us this. It’s an artifact from the Middle Ages called the Ghost Box. He thought it might come in handy for this mission.”
Bartlemore felt around what must have been the edge of the box and reinserted the tiny key. Once again, the strange noise filled the air, as did the tingling sensation. Then the box shimmered back into focus.
“Amazing,” Andy said.
Bartlemore handed Andy the key and the box. “You’re to keep both of these with you at all times. When we find the Golden Paw, I’ll distract Bucketts with the fake camera. It’ll be up to you to grab it and put it in the box without anyone seeing you do it. Then replace the paw with this….”
He held up a replica of the artifact in the painting. It was a beautiful sculpture of a monkey’s hand that appeared to Andy to have been created from real gold.
Andy took it from Bartlemore. Judging by its heavy weight, he could only assume that his suspicion had been correct.
“But how do you know if the painting is correct? What if the real Golden Paw looks different?”
Bartlemore waved off the question. “The main thing is to try to buy us time for you to hide the real one. Hopefully it looks close enough. If you can get your girlfriend to put it in a bag and hand it to Bucketts, he probably won’t even think that it’s been switched.”
Andy blushed at the inference. “Abigail’s not my girlfriend,” he said.
“Sure, kid,” Bartlemore said. And Andy noticed that just a bit of the smug expression he’d carried when playing the part of a pompous Hollywood actor had returned.
As Bartlemore settled back in his seat, Andy thought more about the plan. There were so many things that could go wrong. And he was still having a really hard time believing that his friend, whom he looked up to, could actually be a traitor.
Andy stared out the window at the darkness. He didn’t say it was for sure that Rusty is the traitor, Andy thought. Maybe he’s got it all wrong.
But if that were true, it raised an even more unsettling question. Could one of the others in the expedition be the traitor?
And if so, who?
When the plane landed, Andy was relieved to see his friends waiting for him. Evidently, the pilot on the Flying Phantom had not notified Yaw that they were coming, because he didn’t see her in the group. Had she flown back to find him?
The landing strip was much more rustic than the one that they’d been on earlier. To Andy’s eyes, it looked like little more than a grassy field. It was positioned next to a winding river, one that Andy assumed from his geography lessons was the Amazon.
A grass shack with no markings on it stood on stilts on the river’s bank. Andy’s friends gathered there, all eyes anxiously on Bartlemore’s plane as it taxied to a stop.
None of them know who he really is, Andy thought. They probably think I’ve spent the whole plane ride listening to him brag about his various accomplishments.
Andy noticed Rusty’s hardened expression as he gazed through the window. A light
