“It worked in Madagascar.” Remi picked up his panama hat, twirling it on her finger, a slightly devilish look in her eye as she looked at him.
“That’s my favorite hat.”
Her brow furrowed in mock sympathy. “We’ll be very careful.”
“Not careful enough,” he said, hoping he could find the other two gunmen first. Unfortunately, nothing moved out there. He waited a few more seconds, just in case. “Fine. Just. Be. Careful.”
Remi looked around for a suitable stick.
Nando watched with interest. “What are you planning on doing with that?”
“Not us. You,” she told him, placing the hat on top of the fork-like end, balancing it.
“Me?”
“You’re going to hold it in the window just high enough.” She moved the stick in an up and down motion. “If we’re lucky, they’ll shoot at it.” She glanced over at Sam, then quickly back to Nando. “Or, rather, the hat.”
“How will that help?” Nando asked.
“Muzzle blast,” Sam said, hoping one of the men would make a move before they had to resort to sacrificing his hat. “The reason why Remi had to move from her sniper position. Like a beacon in the night.” He and Remi were going to have to move outside the ruins if they had any hope of taking out the last two kidnappers. The steps leading up to the doorway were high enough to hide behind. He looked to the right, where the buttressed roots of a tree snaked out toward the crumbling wall, providing decent cover. “Remi, take the stairs. I’ll take the right side.”
Remi dashed out the doorway. Nando held the stick and hat, his expression one of uncertainty.
“You’ll be okay,” Sam said.
“How will I know when to show the hat?”
“After I fire a few rounds from the window. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know. Just raise it high enough in the opening so that the moonlight hits it. Make it look like someone’s underneath. Got it?”
Nando nodded. “Got it.”
“Good.” Taking one last look through the vines, he noticed a fruit bat swoop down from beneath the broad leaves of a tree not too far from where Remi had taken out one of the men. “Get ready.”
He fired twice in that direction, then quickly moved back, out of sight, making his way to the right side of the wall. Nando crouched beneath the window, hat low. Sam peered through an opening in the wall, finger on the trigger. “Now!”
Nando bobbed the hat up and down.
Sam’s gaze swept over the landscape. Nothing happened.
“Higher!”
The hat went up.
Twin muzzle blasts flashed again and again as the gunmen peppered the stone walls. Sam fired twice. One of the men cried out, his rifle flying from his hands as he fell back. Remi hit the second man, vines rustling as he fell into the branches.
“Nando, move the hat again. See if we get a response.”
The hat danced in the window. When nothing happened, Sam made his way inside the structure, climbing up the wall where Remi had been earlier, looking out over the jungle and trail.
“Sam?” Remi asked.
“Counting bodies… So far, three…”
“Don’t forget the one who died on the trip wire.”
“That makes four.” He spotted the fifth body where he and Remi had shot the last two, near the trail. “Number six is missing,” he said, spying a blood trail leading away from them.
“Do we go after him?”
“It will take him at least twenty-four hours before he can return with help. I say we put some distance between him and us. The farther away we are from here, the better.”
73
Rolfe, still jet-lagged, poured the last bit of coffee from the carafe into his mug before returning his attention to the map that Leopold was looking over. They were holed up in a suite of a downtown Buenos Aires hotel, the remnants of their room service breakfast on the cart waiting to be picked up. “And why is it we think they’d be contacting this Dietrich person?”
“He’s the last-known relative of Ludwig Strassmair.”
“All well and good,” Rolfe said, “but my understanding was that Strassmair, being a Nazi, was estranged from his sister’s family. Why on earth would he have entrusted the treasure to one of them?”
“He wouldn’t have. But the possibility exists that he contacted his sister’s family when he arrived. They might know something about his last days in Buenos Aires.”
“You’re assuming they even spoke.”
“Hoping. Something we won’t know unless we find Dietrich.”
“And what are the odds of that?” Rolfe asked, examining the area Leopold had circled. “Even with the number of Guardsmen you say are here, that’s a lot of land to cover.”
“Except a lot of that land is controlled by the Guard. Advantage, ours.”
“Controlled, how?”
“They run arms and drugs for support. Trust me when I tell you no one is moving across that land without them knowing about it.”
“You’re sure?”
Leopold looked up at him. “I have no reason to question their authority and competence. Their training is my training.”
“Then how is it that Dietrich managed to stay off their radar?”
“I said they controlled the land down here,” he said, tapping the map. “Dietrich is reported to be living and working outside their control. At the moment, anyone looking for him will be heading through Guard territory.”
“And the man they picked up last night? Have they determined whether or not he’s searching for Dietrich?”
“No,” Leopold said, when his cell phone lit up from an incoming call. “They were under orders to wait until we arrived at their compound. The less people who know about our true purpose here, the better.”
“At last, we agree on something,” Rolfe said as Leopold picked up his phone from the table.
He looked at the number, then answered. “Yes…?” His pale eyes narrowed as he listened to whatever was being said. He answered in Spanish, a language Rolfe didn’t understand. The man ended the call, almost slamming the phone down on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Rolfe asked.
“The man they picked up escaped.”
“How?”
“He had help, obviously. Five of their men are dead. The sixth barely made it out alive.” Leopold drummed his fingers on the tabletop, upset by the turn of events.
As well he should be, Rolfe thought. Apparently, the Guard wasn’t as infallible as they’d have everyone believe. “One man against six? What was it you were saying about anyone traveling in Guard territory?”
“He told them he was alone, a student. Clearly, they believed him or they wouldn’t have let their guard down. It’s possible he was exactly that.”
“You’re deluding yourself. Someone who happens to be studying in the very area we need to travel escapes, kills five Guardsmen? It has the Fargos written all over it.”
“You may be right.”
“May be? They’ve been one step ahead of us on everything. Which needs to change. I’m not paying you all this money to let them get to the treasure first.”
Leopold pulled the map closer. “The survivor said the man they captured was heading north. There are villages here and here… That’s where I’m going.”
“You’re going?”
Leopold folded the map, putting it into his pocket. “You’re certainly welcome to come. Unless, of course, you’d rather stay here and trust that if I find Dietrich before the Fargos do, I’ll pass that information to you.”
“Trust?” Rolfe said. “I want to know what you plan to do about the Fargos?”
“I’ve already dealt with that. The entire compound is aware they may be in the area. They’re starting the search for them as we speak.”