When he crawled into his tent for the night, he was tired but at peace, the feeling of having crossed an important threshold while with the indigenous tribe stronger than ever. He had no concrete reason for it, but it was as palpable as the heat.
As his eyes fluttered shut, his imagination filled with visions of the old shaman and his daughter. That now seemed like a lifetime away, and the entire encounter had the aura of a dream, a surreal fantasy induced by the remnants of his fever.
Awa’s radio crackled softly, and after a short discussion, he went to where Vadim and Sasha were sitting, preparing to eat.
“The young man returned. He’s at their camp.”
“What?” Vadim exclaimed with a start, almost cutting himself with his knife.
“He’s there. But it will be dark before we can reach it. What do you want to do?”
Vadim frowned. “This is our chance. I do not want to ruin it by acting rashly. Let me discuss this with my associate.”
Awa nodded and moved back to where his men were cooking the fish they’d speared, leaving the two Russians to scheme in their mother tongue.
“We could wait until they are asleep and then take them,” Sasha suggested. “They are expecting nothing. It is the perfect time.”
“Perhaps. But also it introduces the possibility that the young Ramsey decides to emulate his father and go to his grave without disclosing his secrets.”
Sasha gave him a lupine smirk. “I can be very persuasive.”
Vadim didn’t comment. He had every faith in Sasha’s abilities. He’d watched him torture enough prisoners during difficult interrogations to know his skills were formidable. But even so, they hadn’t been sufficient to convince the elder Ramsey to capitulate, and he didn’t want to take the chance that the son was made of the same stuff as his father.
His stare moved to the fire, and he seemed to drift away before returning his attention to Sasha.
“At this moment they believe that they are in the clear. And so they will continue their search. To allow them to do the hard work is the smartest — wait until they find Paititi, and then move in. At that point they will be of no use to us any longer, and we can end their troublesome existences with a bullet and conclude our unhappy business with them.”
“True. All we have to do is remain undetected.”
“Which we have easily done for days. We will watch, and they will lead us to city, and then we will dispatch them. It is cleaner this way.”
“Agreed. Although I would like a day or two with the girl before we kill her. I hate to see her go to waste,” Sasha said with an ugly smile.
“Ah, of course. If you have no objections to sharing, I think this can be arranged,” Vadim confirmed.
The two Russians laughed together, and Vadim removed a small metal flask from his pocket and took a long pull from it before passing it to Sasha. “A little celebratory vodka, da?”
Sasha took it and held the container aloft in a toast. “Na Zdorovie. To a better tomorrow.”
Vadim studied his charred slab of fish and swallowed hard.
“After this, I never want to eat fish again. I have had my fill of seafood. Enough to last a lifetime.”
“What do you think the odds are that Palenko left a trail we can follow?” Sasha asked, his voice quiet.
“There is no real way of knowing. He was a lunatic. Perhaps he stayed in Paititi and died there. But what I do know is that once we have found the city, we are much closer to finding him and his ore, and getting our lives back.”
Sasha nodded. “And the rumored riches?”
“If we locate the Inca gold, as the Americans say, it is icing on the cake. Nobody else need know.”
“It would be a wonderful problem to have, wouldn’t it?”
“Indeed it would. Now stop hoarding the vodka.”
Sasha passed him the flask. Vadim swallowed another large gulp before capping it and slipping it back into his pocket.
Sasha finished his fish and sat back. “Twenty years. A long time.”
Vadim shrugged. “Over and done with. What is that annoying American saying? All is well that ends well.”
“For us, anyway.”
Vadim stared at the guides, who would also be meeting their fate when they found Paititi. They wouldn’t need the natives any longer, and planned to execute them at the first opportunity. Then it would be just the two of them, with their support a satellite phone call away.
“To the victor goes spoils, nyet? Now let us get some sleep before the infernal rain starts again. Ahead of us, we have a big day,” Vadim said, the alcohol and a full stomach making him drowsy.
“We do indeed. For the Americans, perhaps, their last day on earth,” Sasha said with a malevolent grin. “Which I will do my best to ensure is also their worst.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Spencer patted Drake’s backpack, the tents rolled up and stowed along with the rest of their gear, and with a final look around the tranquil waterfall area, peered into the surrounding jungle. The early morning sun was just beginning to climb high enough to afford light.
“Lead on, Bwana,” he said.
Drake nodded as he slipped his AK-47’s strap over his shoulder and drew his machete. “It’s about three hard hours away.”
“You sure you can find it again?” Allie asked, approaching from the pool at the base of the waterfall, looking radiant in spite of having been in the rainforest for weeks.
“You bet. I’m really getting the hang of this whole jungle-adventurer thing.”
“That’s good, because it looks like it’s going to start raining again soon,” Spencer said, eyeing the thunderheads parading across the sky.
“Wouldn’t be the rainforest if it didn’t rain, would it?” Drake quipped, making for the faint game trail he’d used the day before.
The clouds erupted with a shattering roar an hour later, and the tepid rain poured down on them as they slogged through the dense foliage, this time with Drake in the lead and Spencer bringing up the rear. The journey took longer than Drake had promised due to the difficult conditions, but by eleven they were standing at the base of an even larger waterfall as the last of the rainstorm spent itself around them. Drake pointed at the river, perhaps thirty feet wide, its brown water swirling with a strong current, and turned to Allie.
“Thar she blows. We follow that, and when we hit a smaller river branching off to the left, that’s our path to Paititi.”
Allie nodded as Spencer removed his backpack and set his rifle against it.
“Let’s take fifteen, refill our canteens, and then get on with it. I’d like to be near the city by the time the heat really gets ugly.”
“Which it will, as always,” Drake agreed.
“How sure are you that it’s only a few more miles?”
“That’s an approximation. I’m assuming that the map the daughter drew was close to scale, but there are no guarantees. However, based on the distance between the two waterfalls, we’re in the ballpark.”
The riverbank was slippery from the rain, but they found a game track that ran roughly parallel, so they were able to set a reasonable pace. Two hours later they came to the branch in the river, and Drake’s pulse quickened as their destination seemed as close as around the next bend. He mopped sweat from his face as he considered the smaller tributary, and after another break, they set off, the heat now oppressive as any cooling effect brought by the rain evaporated with the drying droplets trembling on the leaves around them.
A little over a mile farther, Drake stopped, extending his arm so Allie wouldn’t walk past him. He felt her move closer and signaled for her to remain quiet, and then pointed to a spot a few yards ahead of him. A pile of human bones rested beside a thicket, skulls grinning from between the vines, sightless eye sockets dark in the bushes. Allie gasped and grabbed Drake’s shoulder, and stabbed a trembling finger at another skull impaled on a crude pole to the side of the trail.