‘Bertrand, what progress have you made since my departure?’
Bertrand pushed back his thick black hair, tucking it under the black sports cap, wiping the sweat with a muddy hanky. His face red from exertion and the stubble on his face covered with a combination of plant life and debris around the area his mask fitted on.
‘We have used MARVIN to locate what appears to be a navigator or Captain’s cabin.’
‘Really well which is it? You have ‘ad days!’
Bertrand hesitated, composing himself, not wanting to enrage an already simmering Laurent. ‘We only discovered this structure yesterday, we are currently excavating the area above it, if you would care to wait I am sure that…’
Bertrand did not have time to finish his sentence, Laurent’s satellite phone was warbling. Christophe raised a clean manicured palm to Bertrand’s face, while simultaneously answering his phone. The conversation appeared one sided, and he just answered ‘qui’ or ‘non’ to almost everything, then he hesitated and hung up, his face concerned. Bertrand did not want to restart his previous sentence; he walked to the access point carved out above the cabin.
The team had cut through the roots and silt covering the doorway to the cabin, and were inside photographing artefacts and removing them to the safety of a temporary table. Laurent moved over to the table to inspect the booty, hoping for a prize that would earn him recognition as well as currency, he saw none, just bamboo tubes, wax balls, and jade jewellery. Then with a lot of groaning and shouts of encouragement the team removed a large box from the cabin, one that would have been very familiar to Jacob, but not to Laurent.
‘What is that monstrosity?’
‘We got a call from Jacob asking to remove it before his arrival, but not to open it.’
‘So my bumbling Bertrand, you are taking orders from Jacob Mathias, since when was he in charge of this dig?’
Bertrand tried to answer as Katherine shouted from behind him. ‘Since he pays the bills and contracts for all of us, including you Christophe!’
Bertrand smiled behind Christophe’s back. Christophe’s usual bravado did not fail him, blustering out of the dig site, away from the box and other items, he shouted as he left, ‘We will let the expert Mr Jacob Mathias look into this box! I will be in my office on the ship!’
With that he stormed off the dig, heading to the recently arrived supply boat, bullied the poor boy skippering it to return him to the Arcadia two miles off the shoreline. A bruised Marianne had quickly packed during his foray into the dig site, and scuttled after him.
Peace and tranquillity returned to the dig, and Debra cracked open a beer for Katherine, and passed one to Bertrand, ‘This is going to taste really good.’
From the jungle just out of sight, a middle-aged man watched the spectacle unfold. Silently he recorded the removal of the wooden wax covered box. Osvaldo Rodrigo Moreno Borboa was the bank manager of a town sixty miles away in the hills, however he was not in the jungle by chance, but by design, and with purpose. A guardian of the past and future.
FOURTEEN
Jacob had spent many hours in airports, but he did like Miami, temptations were abundant. The layout meant you could probably spend hours exploring, and spend plenty of dollars, the planner’s intention. The main building was a large U shape, with eight concourses coming off it, a giant concrete insect, spreading its limbs out to catch prey. The prey was the multitude of aircraft, all awaited refuelling and reoccupation. The concourse layout was anti-clockwise from A to J missing out B and I to avoid confusion with numbers, his flight had arrived from Montreal at gate A5, he would not have to rush for his connection in just over an hour at gate C7. There was a constant stream of passengers around, the same as the population of Canada moving through every year, according to the information board which Jacob was studying. He ambled down to the shops in concourse A.
At 2pm local time, Chui Enzi and his escorts were on Concourse H in the south section of the main building, just stepped off the flight from New York. Using his diplomatic credentials to get himself, Mr Smith and Mr Jones swiftly through US customs, he decided to spend a little time relaxing before the flight to Panama, due to depart Gate D33 in a few hours. His contact had emailed the location of the meeting place, and arranged for a helicopter to collect Enzi’s party directly from the airport in Panama.
Enzi went to Café Versailles on concourse D to get some Cuban coffee and a pastry, while Jones called the farm to check if they had located Archer Mathias yet. The answer he received was not welcome, and he swallowed hard before approaching Enzi, who was enjoying his refreshments.
‘Sir, I have news about our farm guest.’
‘And what disappointment are you going to convey to me Jones?’
‘Sir, Archer Mathias escaped some time ago, and my men have been searching the area, but to no avail.’
Enzi put his coffee down, and used his best diplomatic voice to direct his obvious rage at Jones.
‘Mr Jones, you have let an American spy escape, not informed me of his escape until, what two days afterwards. He could be anywhere now!’
‘Yes sir, we have checked the palace and…’
‘I do not care what you have checked, it would be the obvious places, and this man is anything but, that much I have learned.’
Jones was uncharacteristically silent, looking down at his polished shoes, a scolded servant in the presence of his master. Enzi stood, sipped his coffee and devoured his remaining pastry, pacing. He put out his hand, and Jones handed him a phone, Enzi called someone who could find out any information he required, passed on his targets details and awaited the response.
Jacob liked seafood, always had, checking the information map he spotted a Sushi bar in concourse E near the hotel entrance, and made a bee line for it. He didn’t think he would get much sushi in the jungle. He walked briskly up through the airport, heading round to the top of the U on the west side of the building.
Enzi received an email on his phone from his contact, as he suspected Archer Mathias made a call to Uncotto, intercepted seven hours ago.
‘Mr Jones, you have a chance to redeem yourself; it appears that my contact has located our lost friend. He is closer than I expected.’
‘Where sir?’
‘He was due to fly from London to New York, but Mr Mathias changed his ticket at the last minute, he landed here thirty minutes ago. You look relieved Jones. I suggest you go and explore the airport.’
Archer had departed from Gate 24 as soon as he arrived, heading for the ticket desk to collect his new destination, and contact Paul Stone for an update.
Paul was in work still, having a change of clothes and en suite bathroom at work was a distinct advantage. His assistant had called him from her house, and brought him breakfast.
‘Thank you Linda, these croissants are lovely as always.’
With a smile and nod, his assistant Linda left the room, catching up on the many tasks Paul had assigned to her during the night.
His private line caller ID showed Archer’s name, he quickly swallowed and took a slurp of coffee.
‘Archer, you just landed in Miami?’
‘Yes Paul, where are my tickets?’
‘Well, how about, thanks Paul for helping me escape Africa, and getting me dressed, new phone and credit card in the middle of the night.’
Archer laughed. ‘Thanks Paul for helping me escape Africa, getting me dressed, blah blah blah.’