“And you believe he found Paititi? Doesn’t that sound a little like a fairy tale to you?” Drake asked, his scorn obvious.
“The Russian, who we believe was Palenko’s assistant, died shortly after telling the Peruvian his story. And the Peruvian died only a few days after selling your father the account for five hundred dollars.”
“Sounds like there are con artists all over Peru. I can’t believe anyone would buy that load of malarkey.”
“Drake, Palenko has the ore, and we need to locate it at all costs. We’ve been looking for a long time.”
“Right. For what did you say — twenty years? How’s that going?” Drake asked. “And if it’s so important, why not just come up with some excuse about shutting down drug trafficking in the region and send in the marines?”
“That’s not how these things work.” Gus paused. “The man’s a lunatic, Drake. Lunatics can be problematic to track, but our mission hasn’t changed. We have to find him.”
“What do I have to do with that?”
“You’re in considerable danger. The Russians are after the same thing, and they’ll stop at nothing. The shooting in Menlo Park should have been your tipoff. You need to choose which side you’re on. If you’re on ours, we can protect you.” Gus’s eyes scanned the street. “We’re back to your father’s journal. We know you recently came into possession of it. We’re willing to pay quite a bit to get it. That’s where the proposal comes in.”
“What’s ‘quite a bit’?” Drake asked, his curiosity aroused.
“Enough to do anything you want with your life. To live anywhere. Be anything you can dream of.”
“I can dream pretty big.”
“I’m sure you can. But I’m sure you know the old saying about a bird in the hand, right?”
“Of course.”
“We’re willing to offer you a very big bird indeed. Enough for you to take care of your associates and still be rich.”
“How much?”
Gus stepped closer, but Drake detected no obvious threat. Gus leaned into him and whispered near his ear, “Fifty million dollars.”
Drake swallowed hard, the beer fog now gone.
“Fifty…fifty million dollars?” he stammered. “Did I hear you right?”
“You did. You can give your friends five million apiece, and take thirty-five million and live a dream. Anywhere in the world. With no risk to yourself, and nothing to fear from the men who murdered your father. We’ll deal with them.”
“And all I have to do is give you the journal.”
“That’s correct.”
“How do I know you won’t kill me the second you have it?”
“If we make a deal, we’ll arrange for a wire transfer to the account of your choice, anywhere in the world. Once you confirm that the funds have been received, you turn it over to us. There are more safeguards for us both, but those are details.” Gus waved a hand. “The important thing is that you agree.”
Drake hesitated. He had difficulty imagining actually having fifty million dollars. Even after paying off Jack and Allie, and throwing a small bone to Spencer, he’d still be filthy rich.
If.
If Gus wasn’t lying. If Drake could figure out a way to guarantee his own safety.
Fifty million for doing nothing. No risk, no jungle expedition, no homicidal Russians, no possibility of coming up empty.
A smart man would take the sure thing and leave the risk to his new associates.
“The treasure’s rumored to be worth much, much more than fifty million. Billions. Many billions. Possibly tens of billions,” Drake said.
“Possibly. Assuming you locate it. And assuming the Peruvian or Brazilian government is willing to give you even a small percentage of it — which isn’t a given, no matter what you’ve been led to believe. And of course, if the Russians don’t get to you first. Besides which, we’re not that interested in the treasure. It’s Palenko we’re after.”
“Then why can’t I turn over the journal and continue hunting for Paititi?”
“Because if you found it, you might lead them right to it, and we would have lost the advantage we paid for. That, and we can’t protect you in the middle of the rainforest.”
Drake said nothing. Gus made a compelling argument.
“How did you know about me?” Drake asked.
“Your buddy Jack contacted his friend to check up on the two Russians who were in prison — connected to this in the most intimate possible way. That flagged us. Figure it out. We have a lot of resources.” Sensing his wavering, Gus stepped back, giving Drake more space to think, and tried a friendlier tone. “Think about what you could do with that kind of money. You’d be a king anywhere in the world. Nothing would be off-limits or out of your reach. Imagine it, and you can have it.” Gus paused. “An opportunity like this comes along once in a lifetime, Drake. You’re an intelligent guy. Do the right thing.”
Drake glanced at his watch. Where was Jack?
“I…how do I know you’re for real? Talk’s cheap.”
“All you have to do is say the word, and we’ll put gears in motion to consummate. Then you’ll discover we’re as serious as it comes,” Gus said, and Drake believed him. “Take the evening to think about it. We’ll touch base tomorrow. I can assure you that you’re not going to get a better offer. The Russians will…well, they play differently than we do.”
“You know them?”
“We know everyone involved. They’re a particularly nasty bit of business — you wouldn’t want to meet up with them. They’re crude and extremely brutal as a matter of course. As your father learned, unfortunately.”
“You’ve mentioned him a number of times. Did you know him?” Drake asked.
“I didn’t know him personally, but I was aware of his demise. A tragedy. Hopefully the same won’t happen to you.”
Drake registered the threat. “Not a very nice way to talk to your prospective partner, is it?”
“I’m being genuine. Enough people have already died. It would be a shame for you to be added to that list.”
“But you’re not concerned.”
“No. I’m confident in our ability to protect you.”
Drake studied Gus’s flat eyes and saw the truth. As he looked away, he realized he was torn. It was an incredible offer. If it could be structured so it was foolproof…
“I need time to mull this over.”
“Like I said, take the evening. We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“How will I contact you?”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll find you.” Gus fixed Drake with a hard stare. “Choose wisely, Mr. Ramsey. Don’t do anything stupid. There’s no assurance that you’ll find anything if you try this on your own, and there’s a high degree of certainty that you’ll never come back. Whereas with our proposal, you’ll be a rich young man with an unlimited future. I’ve tried to frame this so there’s really no choice. And I think that’s the conclusion you’ll arrive at.”
Gus turned, apparently unconcerned about defending himself from Drake, and strode across the street, back toward the bar, his henchmen in tow. Drake watched them disappear into the gloom and heard something behind him. The scuff of a sole on pavement. He spun and saw Jack approaching at a trot, the unmistakable shape of one of the SIG Sauer pistols in his hand. When he reached Drake, he stopped. His gaze swept the deserted waterfront.
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes roving over their surroundings.
“Yeah. I thought I was in trouble there, but it turned out all right.”
“What happened?”
Drake considered telling Jack about the offer, but something made him hesitate. He shook his head and shrugged it off. “Harmless. Some drunk fishermen. I think they were just screwing around. They were more interested in asking me for a few coins than in rolling me.”