Ramsey's Gold (Drake Ramsey Book 1) (24 page)

“What does that have to do with the journal, or my father? Or me, for that matter?”

“Palenko had been consumed by two passions in life: developing that technology and the legend of Paititi. But as the Berlin wall crumbled, it became obvious to him that Russia was no longer safe, and that he’d be persecuted by political enemies ascending to power. He slipped out of the country with the only twenty-four pounds of the element in existence, accompanied by several cronies, determined to locate Paititi and fund the development of his ultimate invention – the equivalent of cold fusion.”

“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.”

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.