As if she’d ever stop taking the piss!
The rock cover was good, and the ways between them slippery but safe. The mercenaries were more concentrated on escape than confrontation, and soon began diverting their attentions to the plane and inflatables that lay tethered to the rocks. Alicia used the distractions to climb quickly out and shrug off a waterfall.
“Bloody Alsatian in more ways than one,” Russo muttered.
Alicia eyeballed the man. “You’ll pay hard for that.”
“Already am, Myles. Already am.”
The staggered, haphazard firefight continued steadily, the Gold Team creeping ever nearer. The mercs began to thin out and Alicia saw Jensen and his nearest cronies board the seaplane. She saw he had a further half dozen mercs with him who started to tether themselves to the plane. She lined up a shot, but at this distance with a handgun it was a useless effort. Better to keep the bullets.
The seaplane started up at the same time as several of the outboard motors belonging to the inflatables. Alicia took out another merc but the rest were already aboard and waiting for the escape.
She saw it all coming down to the last map.
Jensen took off and veered around in the air, coming above them and holding both hands out of the window. The rest of the doors stayed shut and then Jensen’s face popped out into the open.
Alicia had him dead to rights, but knew she couldn’t fire. Only criminals did that. The good guys had to wait to be fired upon first.
“You murdered more than half my crew! For no reason! You won’t leave me be! I’ll come for you all, believe me. After Morgan’s treasure I’ll be concentrating all my efforts on you and yours! I’ll wipe all of you out!”
The face pulled back and the plane went on its way. Some of what Jensen said was torn away by the winds but Alicia got the general gist.
“What a knob.”
Russo took a rock pew, wiping his face. “So what next, guys?”
“Panama City.” Crouch grimaced. “It was the last place Morgan sacked before returning to England where he thought he’d die. It’s the last map.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Panama City — arguably one of the most important cities throughout history. It was from here that the Spanish launched their expeditions to conquer the Inca empires of Peru. A transit point for untold wealth headed back to Spain. Beyond that, the canal, and the time that Captain Henry Morgan put fire to and destroyed the entire city. Alicia knew a little of the histories, the embellished ones and the much starker realities. What concerned her was the absolute size of the place, and the fact that Morgan practically razed it to the ground.
Their chartered jet bore them steadily through the clear skies.
“Now Michael,” she said. “Without meaning to be a bitch I do have to point out the vagueness and shoddy skills inherent in your mapmaking. They’re shit, and Panama City’s a pretty big place.”
Russo stared at her. “That’s not being bitchy?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Alicia watched Crouch’s face. The cave battle had interrupted their eye-opening conversation about Beau, and she was still processing the details. But she hadn’t liked what she heard. It showed a different side to Crouch — and the possibility that she’d read yet one more person incorrectly.
“Mapmaking skills aside,” Crouch said. “There is also the script, little though I remember of the final map, and the fact most of the city is comparatively new.”
“Morgan destroyed it,” Alicia said bluntly.
“Panama is where it all finally went wrong for Morgan,” Caitlyn spoke up. “He ended up having to divide his forces and march through forest and village to attack the fort, arriving starving and hounded by the Spanish. Forewarned, almost all of the potential treasure hoard had been loaded onto a galleon prior to his arrival and sailed out to sea. The pirates then decided to drink and carouse in Panama rather than use their superior nautical skill to chase down the ship. The city was put to flame.” Caitlyn shook her head sadly.
“A bad night for the pirates,” Russo said unnecessarily.
“It got worse,” Caitlyn said. “The sack of Panama broke the peace treaty between England and Spain, although it could be argued Morgan had no knowledge of the treaty at the time. In any case, his arrest was called for and Morgan had to return to his home and then the capital city to answer for his crimes.”
“He survived though as I remember?” Alicia frowned.
Caitlyn shrugged. “Oh yeah, the English knighted him.”
“All that aside,” Crouch spoke up as the others considered Caitlyn’s statement. “The new Panama City was built five miles west of the original city. Today the old town is called Panama La Vieja, essentially Old Panama.”
“How much of the place still stands?” Alicia asked dubiously.
“Not much,” Crouch admitted. “So let’s hope it’s enough.”
Alicia made her face a little glum. “And a fine bloody treasure hunt this is. No gold, no prospects and very little enthusiasm. The only thing we have gained is a lot of bruises.”
Russo shifted in his seat. “Sounds like you’re getting old, Myles.”
Alicia considered his words. “Until a certain age you don’t care about age. But there comes a point when you decide that you want to get old. Understand?”
“No more carefree, live or die, death-defying assaults? You talk like someone that has kids.” Russo turned to her with wide eyes. “You’re not bloody pregnant are you?”
Alicia choked and coughed so hard it hurt her lungs. She couldn’t speak for a minute and then looked up to see four wry grins.
“Oh, bloody funny. Pick on poor Alicia why don’t you.”
Russo made a finger sign in the air as if to say ‘one point’.
Alicia nodded. “That’s two I owe you, Rob.”
The jet banked and started to descend. Within a half hour they had bumped down the runway, tasted the hot air of Panama, and were waiting at customs. The team had brought only their civilian packs for ease and speed of movement, but Crouch knew someone in the city that could help them obtain weaponry. Once clear of the airport the team rented an SUV to take them into the heart of Panama City, threading through the high rises and along the flat, wide roads, taking a route that enabled them to identify any tail. The going was good and Crouch soon told Healey to stop the car whilst he made contact with his local acquaintance. Alicia watched the boss through the recently cleaned windows as he chatted and laughed in the shadows of a warehouse doorway. In essence nothing had changed, but somewhere deep inside a seed of suspicion had been planted. She still had no doubt that Crouch was essentially a good man, but not quite the role model she had imagined.
After a few moments he beckoned toward Healey, and the young solider backed the SUV up to a discreet doorway. Russo climbed out and helped Crouch load a couple of holdalls into the back. Alicia watched the street, the rooftops, all bleached by the sun, the windows that faced their way and the street corners. The area was quiet, which was of course why the dealer had picked it.
They continued without incident, now threading their way through the city and toward the old quarter, now called Casca Viejo. The original city was built on a peninsula, surrounded by the sea and an easily defended wall system.
Alicia settled back until Crouch stopped the car and spoke up. “We should get out here and walk. Play tourist. There are a few ruins back there—” he pointed “—most importantly a sixteenth-century cathedral.”
“And why so important?” Alicia asked.
“Because the pirates spent time there and it was mentioned as a landmark on the map.”
The team exited the car and stepped out into the blazing sunshine. “The Welsh pirate, Henry Morgan,” Crouch said, looking around and sniffing the air as if he might be able to conjure the scent of smoke and gunpowder, “found an end to his pirating days here. I wonder if the English hadn’t recalled him would he have quit anyway?”