Ramsey's Gold (Drake Ramsey Book 1) (41 page)

Drake shook his head as if to clear it. “It was my father’s dream to find Paititi. I’m humbled I could fulfill his ambition.”

Jorge nodded. “I’d say you more than did so. You’ll be quite famous before long. I’m green with envy, actually. And thrilled to be working with you.”

A radio crackled, and one of the scientists lowered a huge steel basket into the water, suspended on a cable hanging from a portable crane that had been assembled and secured in place on the rim after the archeologists had photographed the stunning emerald ring and painstakingly cleared a section for the workers, laying down plywood for protection. The radio emitted a burst of static and the crane operator engaged a lever. The high-pitched whine of an electric motor filled the chamber, and the conversation ebbed as everyone waited to see what would emerge from the depths.

The cage broke the surface and the lights glinted off a huge gold ornamental headdress, easily four feet tall by six wide, ornately crafted and stunning. Emeralds the size of tennis balls adorned the crest, and Drake could hear a collective gasp from the assembly.

“My…God…it’s incredible,” Jorge whispered as the crane swung slowly and three men reached out to guide the basket to a position on the cave floor. Cameras flashed, memorializing the amazing find, and it took all three of them to remove it.

Spencer, Drake, and Jorge approached the relic as the crane operator moved the basket back over the pool and lowered it back into the water. Jorge reached out with a tentative hand and touched the glistening surface of an emerald in obvious awe.

The archeologist with the radio walked over as more pictures were taken and leaned into Jorge. After a brief discussion, Jorge nodded and returned his attention to Drake and Spencer.

“The divers say that the entire bottom is filled with artifacts, and that we’ll need more equipment to get some of it out. They spotted part of the legendary Lost Chain of Huayna Capac, and that alone will require a larger crane. This…I can’t describe to you what this means to our country,” Jorge said, his eyes gleaming in the bright glare of the work lights. Unable to contain himself, he hugged Drake, who looked at Spencer out of the corner of his eye as he endured the embrace, obviously uncomfortable.

Spencer smiled and turned away. When Drake joined him, Spencer whispered to him as the crane began whining again, “Dude, you’re a hero. And this goes with the territory.”

“My head still hurts. They didn’t warn me about that in hero school.”

“Yeah, they probably left out some parts. Don’t worry. You’ll adapt.”

They watched the steel cable vibrating as the winch reeled it back in, and Spencer shook his head. “Who woulda thunk, huh?”

“It’s pretty surreal.”

“Wait until the parade.”

Drake gave him a look of alarm. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Only a little. They take this kind of thing seriously. You and Allie are now national treasures. You don’t get to just slip away with a fat check. You’re a celebrity. The man of the hour.”

“Well, so are you. You helped discover it, too. You’re a partner, remember?”

Spencer shook his head. “I’m just the hired sidekick. This one’s all yours. Although I still want my cut…”

“I figured.”

~ ~ ~

Two weeks later the last of the treasure had been raised, and a conservative estimation had established the value at in excess of twenty billion dollars. Paititi now had more than a hundred workers and double that many soldiers guarding it as word of the find had spread. News crews had descended on the area in spite of the best efforts of the administration, and Drake had been hounded for interviews, finally limiting his public contact to an hour every morning. Allie, now fully healed and back at Paititi, seemed more fascinated by the archeological aspects of the find than the prospect of becoming rich, which surprised neither Spencer nor Drake.

Confirmation had come from the Peruvian president that they would receive two billion dollars as a finder’s fee for the discovery, and that additionally, a new museum would be built to house the incredible riches on land near the presidential headquarters in Lima. That morning, Drake had been informed that they would all be honored at a groundbreaking ceremony at the end of the week, where they would be awarded Peru’s highest honor before a crowd of thousands.

Drake had blown coffee out of his nose and down the front of his newly fitted tropical-weight shirt when Jorge had broken the news, and it had taken a full minute for him to stop coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

“Two billion dollars? That’s…that’s insane,” Drake managed, his voice hoarse.

Spencer cleared his throat. “I believe that will be only one billion for you, Mr. Ramsey.” They had discussed it earlier and decided that Spencer and Allie would both get twenty-five percent cuts. Drake had protested, but they’d insisted Drake would get half, and they’d split the rest.

“Only one? How am I going to get by on that?”

Jorge’s eyes widened as he studied Spencer’s smirk. “Wow. Spencer, you’re rich! I mean, New York-level rich!”

“Well, not like some Wall Street crooks, but that does sound like I’ll be able to get a good table at Nobu whenever I want.”

“I guess I won’t be going back to any administrative positions when I go home,” Allie said, smiling.

“I…I don’t know what to say. Congratulations. All of you. You deserve it. This is the achievement of a lifetime,” Jorge said, obviously impressed.

“Wait. Can we go back to the part about the crowd of thousands? I don’t really do well with public speaking…” Drake said, and Spencer and Allie exchanged a smile.

“Don’t worry. You don’t speak Spanish, so you won’t be expected to say anything. Just smile when they pin the medal on,” Spencer said.

“Sounds like you’ll be right there next to me,” Drake fired back.

Jorge nodded. “Yes, my friends, all of you are to be decorated. The president has already declared this Friday a national holiday. It’s a big deal. And there will be a state dinner afterward, where you will be the guests of honor. The American government is flying the Secretary of State in to represent your country. This is international news.”

Drake looked increasingly concerned as the morning wore on. When Jorge excused himself and Spencer went to get another refill of strong black coffee, Allie rose and approached Drake, one eyebrow cocked.

“Can I speak with you?” she asked, her tone revealing nothing.

“Sure.”

“Alone.”

Drake eyed Spencer, who was busying himself with the coffee pot. “Okay.”

Allie took Drake by the hand and led him away from the clearing down to the river. When they reached the bank, she turned to him, her blue eyes flashing in the sun. “Looks like our quest is over now.”

“Except for the dinner.”

“You have to stop freaking out about that. You’ll do fine.”

“I know. I just get…”

Allie moved closer and stood on her tiptoes. Her full lips met Drake’s and they shared a long kiss, electricity crackling between them. When she pulled away and sighed softly, Drake felt dizzy for a moment. She took his other hand and kissed him again, and then looked up at his strong jawline and deep tan.

“I’m glad you didn’t die going over the waterfall,” she said softly.

“Or any other time. For the record, I’m glad you didn’t die, either.” He kissed her again and then regarded the rushing water. “What about Spencer?”

Allie laughed. “Spencer? Nothing’s going on between us. What…you thought we were…?”

“No. I mean, you thought I was dead. I’d totally understand…”

“Spencer’s a fine specimen, but he’s not my type.”

“What’s your type?”

“I’m hoping we can find out after this is over.”

Drake swallowed hard. “I’d like that.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous about the dinner. Seriously. I’ll be right there with you.” She nuzzled against his chest, and then they both started when they heard the underbrush behind them rustle. Spencer stepped out, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Well, looks like it’s Drake’s lucky day in more ways than one,” he said. “Sorry. I wasn’t being nosy. I just wanted to make sure you two were okay.”

Drake locked eyes with Allie, and they smiled together before turning to face him. Allie pushed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes and winked at Spencer.

“Never better.”

Chapter Forty-Five

The award ceremony went by in a blur: countless dignitaries shaking hands, kissing cheeks, bowing and scraping and patting Drake’s back like he was a new father. As he sat at the head of the long table in the position of honor, trying to remember which fork to use while avoiding spilling wine all over his tuxedo, he was struck by a sense of dissociation, like he was sitting apart from himself, watching someone who looked like him going through the motions, smiling and nodding at the right points. The sensation heightened as the dinner progressed, and he wondered whether he was having a seizure of some sort, brought on by the blow to his head. Then he seemed to get sucked back into his body, and he was looking out through his own eyes again as the Secretary of State’s charming wife recounted a practiced story with just the appropriate amount of irony.

He took another sip of wine and considered the gathered faces, some jaded, others bloated with privilege and the ennui of the powerful, still others hungry with avarice or envy, all eyes on him like a sacrificial lamb. His gaze drifted to Allie sitting a few seats down the table across from him, looking radiant in a white sequined dress with a high collar, its contours hugging her curves with every move. Flashes of light sparkled from the massive chandeliers as a string quartet played Mozart with Latin zest, and he was struck by how silly his fellow humans were, how enamored with trappings of power and wealth, and how little of it actually mattered. He resisted a powerful urge to bolt from the hall, and instead chuckled at the right moment, the woman’s diverting tale at an end.

“I hear that you’re going to start a charitable foundation,” the Secretary of State said after a bite of salmon poached in a champagne sauce.

“Yes. I’m having a great deal of the Peruvian government’s generosity donated to create an organization in my father’s memory. It was he that did the research that enabled me to find Paititi, and he would have wanted the money to go to furthering similar pursuits, I’m sure.”

Polite applause greeted his statement, and Drake despised them all for a moment before choking down his volatile emotions. This was a necessary part of being a hero, Spencer had said, whether he liked it or not. The only thing he had to do was get through the evening without vomiting on the white tablecloth, and he’d be remembered as a hit: young, handsome, gracious, sunburned, and appropriately rakish – the perfect embodiment of the successful adventurer.

The only problem was that it felt like a lie. All he’d done was stumble around in the jungle following his father’s clues. He didn’t deserve any of it.

He offered a wan smile to the beautiful starlet the organizers had seated next to him and took another gulp of wine. Drake might have felt like an empty suit, but if he looked at this public appearance as a job, part of an act, he could get through it. He wouldn’t embarrass himself and tarnish his father’s name.

Spencer caught his eye from his position halfway down the table and grinned a warning. He’d spent enough time with Drake to know he was in trouble. As the entrée was removed to make way for dessert, Spencer excused himself and approached Drake. He bowed deferentially to the gathering and addressed them like trusted conspirators.

“I’m sorry. Would you excuse us for a moment? I need to ask Ramsey here for some investment tips.”

Everyone laughed, the wine having flowed like water, and Spencer led Drake out onto a balcony overlooking the twinkling city lights.

Spencer leaned close to Drake. “Are you all right? You looked like you were about to yack on the hottie they set you up with.”

They were interrupted by a servant carrying a humidor filled with Cuban cigars. Drake shook his head. Spencer took one and, after a slight hesitation, took a second, and slipped them both into the breast pocket of his tuxedo.

“I can’t wait for this to be over,” Drake said.

“Yeah, well, it shouldn’t be much longer now. Just don’t stab anyone with the silverware and you’ll be okay.”

“I know. But I’m having a lousy time.”

“Welcome to the lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

“So far it sucks.”

“Yeah, but the hours are good, and the food’s not bad.”

“I want to get out of here.”

“You’re the guest of honor, Drake. You don’t get to disappear.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

“What’s up? We talked about this. You just need to smile. They don’t even care if you pick your nose. You’re a rock star. A blinding supernova. You can do no wrong.”

“It just feels…wrong.”

Spencer nodded. “Maybe so. Tomorrow it will be over. You can get on a plane and go anywhere in the world. You’re set. So man up, grin and bear it, or I swear I’ll personally bring a scorpion to your room and have it bite you on the ass.”

“I’m pretty sure scorpions sting.”

“Whatever.”

“All right. Hell, if I can brave the Amazon, the least I can do is tackle a few geriatrics in monkey suits.”

Spencer slapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit.”

Spencer turned to rejoin the dinner, and Drake stopped him.

“Thanks, Spencer. For everything. I couldn’t have gotten through any of this without your help.”

Spencer paused. “Bullshit. You nailed it every time. If you’re beating yourself up because you think you didn’t do your part, that’s idiocy. You found Paititi, Drake. Not me. Not Jack, not your dad, and not even Allie.
You
did. You located the treasure. You tracked down the ore. I just held your gun for you.” Spencer looked off at the city and then fixed Drake with a hard stare. “You’re frigging Drake Ramsey, you found Paititi, you’re world famous, and Goddamn it, you deserve every bit of it, and more. So suck it up and deal with it.”

They stood facing each other like gladiators, breathing heavily, the music drifting from the ballroom like tendrils of curling smoke.