Jack grunted. “That’s a relief. But as you’re discovering, taking these kinds of risks is a bad idea. You could have just as easily been hacked in two with a machete.”
“Nah. I’ve been told to avoid machete fights. Oh. Wait. That was knife fights. I’d imagine machetes are worse.”
“Okay, smartass. So you’re no worse for wear?”
“Never better.”
“Then let’s get back to the hotel. I was fast asleep when Allie got me.”
“Sorry.”
“No problem. But we’re up early, and I’m beat.” Jack took a last look down the street before turning and heading back to the hotel with Drake by his side, the pistol now nestled in his belt at the small of his back, covered by his shirt.
Allie came out when she heard them opening their room doors and wanted to know how it had gone. Drake told her the same story he’d told Jack, and she seemed relieved, although still a little worried. He liked that — Allie worried for him. I could get used to that, he thought to himself as he entered his quarters. Very used to it.
The room was stifling, but that wasn’t what kept Drake tossing and turning. His sweat-soaked sheets seemed to radiate his anxiety, and at two in the morning he sat bolt upright. He hadn’t understood his impulse to keep the conversation he’d had from Jack, but he’d come to the conclusion that it had been the wrong call.
Drake pulled on his shorts and unlocked his door, then stepped softly down the hall to Jack’s room, after pausing briefly outside Allie’s, the memory of their kiss still vivid. He rapped on the door and, when he didn’t hear any response, tried again.
Footsteps approached and Jack cracked the door open, his eyes red. “What is it?”
“We need to talk.”
“Now?”
“Sorry. But yes. Now.”
“Damn. Come in, then,” Jack whispered, and pulled the door toward him. Drake slipped through and sat on the bed, and told him what had happened, as well as about Palenko. When he was done, Jack whistled softly. “Drake, this changes the entire game. This is way larger than a search for lost treasure. Now we’re mixed up in something much more dangerous, and the best thing we can do is recognize when we’re way out of our league.”
“It doesn’t really change our basic objective, though. Just throws another variable into the mix.”
“Yeah, like the CIA. I wouldn’t screw around with them, Drake.” Jack hesitated. “Fifty million. That’s a lot of money. A lot.”
“They suggested I give each of you five million, then go have a nice life.”
“Man, with five million I could disappear forever. The Russians would never be able to find me. More importantly, they wouldn’t have any reason to. Wow. I mean, think about it. Thailand. Russia. Argentina. Fiji. With that kind of money…”
“I know.”
“And Allie would never have to worry about anything again. She could pursue archeology to her heart’s content,” Jack finished.
“Which is why I needed to talk to you.”
“What’s there to talk about? You just won the lottery.”
“I’m not sure I want to do it.”
Jack looked at him in surprise. “Why the hell not?”
Drake stared at his hands in the dark. “Because it feels wrong. Like I’m quitting.”
“Drake, listen to me. Fifty million isn’t quitting. Really. You have nothing to be ashamed of. That’s life-changing money. And as you just said, there’s obviously more in play here than just the Inca city. With the CIA in the mix, it’s bigger than anything you want to be involved with. You should take the deal and run.”
“Maybe. What would my dad have done?” Drake asked quietly.
“Who cares? You’re not your dad. And with all due respect, he made some pretty lousy choices. And look what it got him.”
“No argument. But what would he have done?” Drake asked, steel in his tone.
Jack sighed in resignation. “You know what he would have done. He wouldn’t have taken the money. That’s just how he was. But that doesn’t mean it’s the right choice, Drake. You don’t have to make the same mistakes.”
“So you’d take the cash?”
“Damn right I would. I’m old enough to know a great offer when I hear it.”
Drake sat silently for several endless moments and then stood. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Jack. I’m not going to do it. I can’t. I need to see this through to the end, whatever that is.”
Jack looked like he wanted to protest, but nodded instead. “Okay, Drake, it’s your show. I just hope you know what you’re doing. That’s a lot of money. For all of us.”
“I know, Jack. Believe me, I know. Listen, I want to get out of here tomorrow morning, early, before they’re even awake. I can meet you somewhere.”
Jack appeared to think for a few seconds. “If you’re willing to be up at five, we can see about having a boat take you up the river. But if you do that, I’ll want you to go with Allie. I don’t want her around if this gets messy once they find out you’re gone.”
“No problem. I don’t mind. You’ll be right behind us once Spencer arrives. Which reminds me — he’s got to be the leak. I told you I didn’t trust him, and then these guys show up. How else could they have known exactly where we were?”
“I wouldn’t underestimate the CIA, Drake. But even if you’re right, we still need him. Tell you what — I won’t tell him where we’re going, and then I’ll take his sat phone from him once we’re gone. That way he’ll have no way of communicating. Sort of force him to be honest. And I’ll go through his stuff when he’s not around to make sure he doesn’t have a tracking device on him.”
“You think that’ll work?”
“I don’t see how we have much of a choice if we’re going through with this.”
“Damn. Okay, if you can manage it.”
Jack winced. “There’s not a lot I can’t manage.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Vadim looked up from his half-empty glass of vodka as a young Peruvian woman entered the bedroom wearing nothing but a smile.
“You have a call,” she said in fractured English. Vadim grunted and tossed back the rest of his drink, savoring the familiar burn as it spread from his throat to his abdomen.
He rose and followed her into the other room, noting that she could give some of the Russian girls he’d paid for their hospitality a run for their money, and lifted the ancient black phone handset to his ear.
“Yes?”
“We just got word. They’re in Atalaya.” The voice on the telephone spoke heavily accented English, all no-nonsense, the words seasoned by years of hard living.
“I told you. They used that as jumping off point before. It made sense they would use it again.”
“My contact is watching them. Not hard to do considering the size of the place.”
“Very good. We will be on our way tomorrow. Do nothing overt. I do not want them warned that they are under surveillance. Is that clear?”
“Of course. We’ll know when they decide to leave. They suspect nothing.”
“See that it stays that way. Have you sourced the equipment I requested?”
“Yes. We’re ready.”
Vadim checked the time. It was later than he thought. “We will be there by the middle of the day.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Vadim hung up and eyed the young woman, who was seated at the coffee table, helping herself to a line of the local cocaine. Vadim approached her, weaving slightly, the vodka having gone to his head, and clumsily grabbed her, which she pretended to enjoy as she giggled and squirmed. A bruise on her face had taught her not to question the customer’s strange demands, and the drugs at least blunted some of the pain she knew would follow.