Jack had gone back to civilization for more supplies, so he never knew what the elder Ramsey had been thinking or had discovered — he’d alluded to having a meeting planned during Jack’s absence, but that had been it. Jack had registered a difference in Ford’s tone, though, and believed that his attitude had become more optimistic, and that they were only days away from their journey concluding successfully.
The satellite footage on Google Earth was of no help. The canopy of the Amazon was far too dense to make out anything other than a sea of green with rivers snaking through it. He tried looking for the waterfalls rumored to be near the lost city, but it was no good.
Frustrated, he realized his stomach was growling and that it was well past lunchtime. He tore himself away from his iPad with a resigned sigh and went to a seafood restaurant a block away that he’d seen on his run, where he ate incredibly fresh fish prepared in a spicy sauce that had his eyes watering by the time he was halfway through his meal.
The sidewalks were clogged with beachgoers, and he found himself carried along by the crowd as he walked south. Glittering skyscrapers lined the waterfront, yet only footsteps away, shantytowns clung to the sides of the mountains, their alleys narrow and treacherous, graffiti covering the buildings. Bootleg electricity cables crisscrossed the alleys like black spaghetti, the wiring’s tentacles snaking along streets the police didn’t dare go into, day or night. The hotel had warned him against leaving the premises after dark, and cautioned him against going anywhere near the favelas — the local slums that housed the armed drug gangs at perpetual war with the law and military: hotbeds of trafficking, both of narcotics and humans.
He’d seen enough photos on the web of machine-gun-toting thugs on motorcycles firing indiscriminately at each other to understand that the slums were beyond dangerous, but that world seemed a million miles away as he meandered down the beachfront. Beautiful women and fit men were the flavor of the day, all golden-brown skin and white smiles and endless summer expressions of carefree ease.
The Mar Ipanema Hotel wasn’t on the beach, but rather two blocks from the Atlantic, surrounded by other towers with apparently no thought to city planning. Drake entered and was scrutinized by two burly security men, whose no-nonsense expressions signaled zero tolerance for mischief, and approached the reception desk. A young woman with a thousand-watt smile and passable English checked for Jack and pointed to a house phone. Allie answered after three rings, her voice musical.
“Hello?”
“You made it,” Drake said.
“Yeah. We just got in a few hours ago. How’s Rio?”
“I haven’t been out much. Mostly hibernating. The trip wiped me out, and I’ve been online most of today.”
“I hear you about it being a bear of a flight. I’m pretty beat as well.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to escape gunmen to get here. That takes a little more out of you.”
“So I’m told. Where are you?”
“Downstairs.”
“Okay. I’ll be right down.”
“What about Jack?”
“He went out after checking in. Said to stick around until he got back.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“To look up some friends. That’s all he would let on.”
“You eaten?”
“Plane food.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“You’re on. Be down in five.”
When Allie stepped out of the elevator she looked like every bit of a million dollars. Her mane of dark hair shimmered in the light, and her blue eyes flashed like sapphires. Drake took a moment to appreciate the way her shorts showcased her sculpted, tan legs as he moved toward her. He almost hugged her, but something about her body language warned him off, and instead they stood awkwardly facing each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Drake grinned and waved at the en-suite bar.
“You want to stay here, or go down to the beach?”
“I promised him I wouldn’t leave.”
“Ah. Right. Well, then, I’d say happy hour at the Mar Ipanema just got underway.”
The beer was cold, the music soft, the booth comfortable, and they laughed easily as they discussed the adventure to come.
“So what made you interested enough in archeology to want to major in it?” Drake asked, savoring his icy Brahma beer, studying her face.
“I think it was the stories my dad told me as a child. About his trip here. His time with your father. It sounded so…exotic, and important. No, that’s not the right word. More like the kind of thing most people never get to do — discovering the secrets of the past. I think I was hooked by the time I was ten years old.”
“What does your mom think about it?”
Allie grew quiet and took a sip of her beer. “She died when I was very young. When I was twelve. A traffic accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was a while ago, but I still think about how proud she would have been. She always encouraged me to pursue academics in a big way. Not that my dad wasn’t supportive. But she was over the top…”
They finished their drinks, and Drake held two fingers aloft to the bartender, who nodded. Allie picked at the bar snacks in a bowl between them, and then sat up, eyeing the hotel entrance. “He’s back.”
She rose and moved into the lobby. Jack saw her and nodded, then spotted Drake and followed Allie into the bar.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Drake asked. Jack gave him a sour look, and he kicked himself mentally, having forgotten that Jack didn’t imbibe.
“Sure. How about a Coke?” Jack said.
“Coming right up.” Drake slid out of the booth and walked over to the bartender to relay the order. Jack sat next to Allie and plowed into the bowl of treats like a starving man. Drake returned, followed by the bartender with their beverages. When they were alone, Jack leaned forward.
“I’ve been out making calls. I met with a friend who comes to the U.S. every four or five years — owns a vitamin manufacturing company. Anyway, to make a long story short, he gave me some leads.”
“Leads? For what?” Drake asked.
“Someone who knows the area we’re going into and can arrange for anything we need.”
“Sounds promising. And he has somebody?”
“Brazil is the kind of place where everybody knows somebody. That’s why I hit the ground running and went to work.”
“Speaking of which, when do we go to your buddy’s ranch?” Allie asked.
“Tomorrow. I’ve already hired a car and driver to take us there,” Jack said. “I want to get our preparation over with as quickly as possible so we can stay ahead of the Russians. They’ll figure out soon enough what we’re up to, and I want to be long gone by the time they do.”
“Won’t we need our own car?”
“We can’t rent anything or we’ll show up on a computer. So we’re going to pay a little more and have a local ferry us around. Which isn’t the worst thing that can happen. I remember from last time I was here…if you’re not used to driving in Brazil, you’re better off leaving it to the natives. Take my word for that.”
After a few more minutes of discussion, Drake finished his beer and rose. “I’m going to get some fresh air and check out the beach, since we’re leaving tomorrow. You two want to come along for a walk?”
Jack shook his head. “Not for me. That’s a young man’s game. I’m headed upstairs for a siesta.”
Allie smiled and nodded. “I’d love to see the beach. Being cooped up in a plane and a hotel room has me going a little stir-crazy.”
Jack looked concerned, but seeing Allie’s face, his expression softened. “Just be careful. Rio’s a dangerous city, even in the tourist areas. Watch yourselves.”