Crouch swore as the connection ended. Alicia turned as, immediately, the laptop pinged again and a new message opened up.
All the locals we have reached out to suggest your man is not the crew’s true leader. He is a field captain, no more. Locals suggest true leader is very bad news, some kind of criminal kingpin. I’d say back away from this one while you still can.
Crouch sat down hard. If nothing else, Coker was clearly in trouble and despite the guy’s inept attempt at hurting them, needed help.
“What could make a man like Coker work for a criminal kingpin?” Healey wondered.
“That,” Crouch said, “is the loaded question. Along with why would a crime boss be interested in a five-hundred-year-old treasure? And how the hell did he find out about it?”
“Information’s everywhere.” Lex spoke in a challenging tone. “Anyone could find out.”
“Agreed,” Crouch said. “But not like this. Not at the exact same time that we arrive.”
“I know one man that knows,” Alicia said with a slight smile. “Coker. When we see him again we’ll ask him.” She made a wringing motion with her hands. “Hard.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Crouch said. “Coker is, or was, a good man. Clumsy, but likeable. I’ve never had a problem with him, despite consistently having to feed him false information to stop him following my every move. I’ve had my fill of violence, Alicia.” He held her gaze. “Haven’t you?”
Alicia shrugged. “Hey, I never start it. Usually though, I do finish it, and often with a smile on my face.”
Russo spoke up from his position near the window. “So what’s the plan, boss?”
“Time to start the real treasure hunt.” Crouch couldn’t keep the smile from lighting his face. “Time to seek out the Nahua.”
SEVEN
The journey to the north did not start out as long or as arduous as Alicia imagined it might. The treasure hunters rented two four-wheel-drive vehicles, stowed their gear and their new guide, and headed out. The skies above were perfect blue, the clouds pure white and cotton-tailed. Alicia made sure the air-con was cranked up high before settling back into her seat.
“So,” she said to their guide who was seated behind her, alongside Lex. “How far?”
“Ten to twelve hours, depending on the roads,” Jose Cruz told her in perfect English. “You didn’t want to take the airplane, so it takes longer.”
“I get that,” Alicia said. “Planes attract too much attention. At least this way we can spot a tail.”
“Speaking of which,” Crouch said from the driver’s seat. “All well so far.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” Cruz asked with a touch of fear.
Alicia shrugged. “None more than usual.” Her mind flicked over the stash of old weapons they’d purchased before setting out. Nothing outstanding, but still nothing short of much-needed added protection.
She caught Crouch’s twitch of a smile. Yeah, he’s thinking ‘none more than usual’ could mean anything from a fist fight to an apocalypse. Shit, what a crazy legend I’m becoming part of.
The hours passed slowly, eased along by the incredible unfolding landscape. Jagged, vertical rock faces rose straight up out of the earth, the haunt of climbers from all over the world, and dark mountains towered in the distance. Turquoise blue rivers ran fast, circling toward the road and then away toward some distant ravine or cavern. Cruz spoke of great waterfalls and tremendous flocks of birds, stunning cave systems and great canyons. The highway became small and winding, occasionally perilous as they started to climb. The group stopped where they could to take on food and water, seeing no advantage in arriving at their destination worn out.
Alicia quizzed their guide as the hours ticked by. “Rivera mentioned that you would be known to these people. A friend? What is it that you do, Cruz?”
Their guide, a thin man with a shock of black hair and a tendency to sweat, tore his eyes away from the road ahead. “It’s not just a conventional job that I do. It is… moderation. I usually act as a go-between for the more secluded tribes and their supposed government. A referee at times. At others simply an intermediary. They trust me.” He shrugged. “I trust Carlos Rivera, who has taught me much of the Aztec legend, good and bad. Do not let either of us down.”
Crouch inclined his own head. “You have my word. You say he’s taught you much?”
“To help me in my work. To help me understand the people, yes. Now, I’d like to know what makes you qualified to find a mythical treasure where everyone else has failed.”
“Us?” Alicia smiled. “Nothing. Short of, we’re the real deal. Serious as a bullet. We don’t have time to waste. People like us, we’re normally off fighting bad guys and keeping the world safe. You’re actually very lucky we’re here.”
Cruz didn’t look convinced. “Okay.”
More climbing and they passed a group of life-jacketed people manhandling a kayak onto a stretch of water. Another clearing revealed several youths scrambling small ATVs across a shallow stream bed.
Cruz cleared his throat. “Before we arrive I want to give you a clearer picture of what you will find. The Nahua people living here are a simple race. If they want to earn and work for money they walk or take a bus to the nearest town — which takes sixty minutes in one direction. No more than sixty families live in this small mountainous village. An insignificant race, you might think, but then consider that the words avocado, chili, coyote and even chocolate and tomato have Nahua roots. You will see many coffee trees, amazing vistas, and even clouds filling the valley below. This is their life and it is enough. The wives try to support their families the traditional way — through weaving and stitching — but it is often a road to nowhere. Their husbands grow crops, potatoes, mushrooms and peppers. They are surrounded by old ruins and green hills with altars carved into their sides. A very religious people, their festivals are normally loud and colorful. They can, literally, dance for days.”
Crouch slowed as the road narrowed. “I think we’re close.”
Cruz pointed ahead. “Pull in over there. I hope you guys are ready for this.”
Cruz directed them through the small, clean village, all the time heading for a huddle of dwellings that sat on the outskirts, built up against a high stepped hill. Above the roofs of the dwellings and dotted up the hillside, Alicia made out the altars Cruz had mentioned — small niches carved out of the rock and adorned with colorful ribbons. Her eyes followed a sandy path that led all the way to the top.
She spoke quietly to Russo, who had been driving the second vehicle. “Any problems?”
“All clear,” he reported back. “Haven’t seen another car for hours.”
As they walked, the village quieted. Strangers were not unknown to these parts but were still rare enough to attract a little pall of uneasiness. Remembering Cruz’s words Alicia fought to keep her silence even when a small group of men started pointing at her. The path continued through numerous small dwellings and past well-ordered fields where men and children worked, even though the sun had begun to set to the west. Alicia kept a sharp eye in all directions, even as far as the tree line high above, but nothing untoward occurred.
Cruz chatted to the locals as he passed through. Everyone seemed to know him. The guy probably spent half his life visiting villages and townships such as this, but perhaps not for today’s unusual reason. Crouch followed and stored away his every move as if learning the ropes for some later visit. The man was nothing if not meticulous.
Cruz stopped before the huddle of dwellings. The rough poured concrete construction didn’t fit well out here where the new world hadn’t penetrated, but Alicia chose to see it as a verification of the wisdom of the village elders. As they waited, three men emerged into the sunlit evening.