“And what if you’re wrong?”

  “I know Norse history like the back of my hand. Unfortunately, there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. If there were, I’d know about it.”

  “Gunnar, why are you so sure you’d know about our missing settlement?” asked Kim.

  “Because, over the past several years, Greenland has had unseasonably warm summers, which has led to the permafrost melting and revealing long-lost clusters of homes. But all of these have been close to Nuuk. Sadly, if these new sites aren’t correctly excavated, any organic remains or manufactured materials found there will rot and be gone forever.”

  “So it could be out there, and you just don’t know about it,” proposed Connor.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Just out of curiosity, how much money are you talking about?”

  Connor shrugged. “It could be worth trillions, or it could just be a wild goose chase, and there’s nothing there. We won’t know until we find this settlement.”

  Kim said, “What we haven’t told you so far is that we’re in a race to find this alleged treasure before a man called DuFour can find it.”

  “So what if he finds it first?” asked Gunnar. “He’ll still have to follow our laws governing cultural sovereignty.”

  Kim and Connor chuckled at Gunnar and shook their heads.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

  “Men like DuFour couldn’t give a damn about your laws regarding the protection of cultural heritage,” explained Connor. “He’ll take want he wants, and no one here, other than us, can stop him.”

  “You’re exaggerating. Surely the police could handle this man?”

  “I wish I was exaggerating, Gunnar. I’m not joking when I say it’s best to leave the police out of this.”

  “Why?”

  “This man is dangerous.”

  “Very dangerous,” stressed Kim. “Would you like their blood on your hands?”

  “No, of course not,” responded Gunnar. “But no one is above the law.”

  Connor looked Gunnar in the eyes. “DuFour and his people think they are. This man is connected and has more than enough money to buy whatever he wants, even the police and judges.”

  A young waiter approached the table to see if they wanted anything more but was brusquely waved off by Yuri.

  Gunnar tilted his head. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you’re in a race with this DuFour character to find this alleged settlement and whatever may be buried there, even though you have no real idea of what may be there.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” said Connor.

  Gunnar shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. “Whatever. If you were to ask me, I’d say you’re all insane. But the money’s good, and since I need money for a new car, who am I to question your motives? As long as you leave everything where we find it, I’m your guide for the next four days.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Burkeville, Texas

  Tiva Swiftwater walked home at an unhurried pace, talking and laughing with her two best friends, Sarah and Valeria. They had spent the better part of the day playing at another friend’s house, but it was now time to come home. Just back out of earshot was her foster father, Darren Long, a retired police detective who had insisted on walking Tiva and her friends home before it got too dark. Tiva had protested that she and her friends could walk home by themselves. After all, she was almost eight years old and about to enter grade three. But her complaints had fallen on deaf ears, and here they were, approaching Valeria’s house.

  “Goodnight, Valeria,” said Tiva. “See you tomorrow.”

  Valeria waved at her friends and jogged to the front door, where her mother awaited her.

  “Thanks, Darren,” said Valeria’s mother, hugging her daughter and waving to the man.

  “It’s not a problem,” he replied with a smile. “Walking the girls home gives me some exercise and a good excuse to get out of the house.”

  “Excuse or not, I really do appreciate your help.”

  “Like I said, it’s my pleasure,” he said, rubbing his right knee. Shot on duty with less than a year to go to his pension, Darren and his wife had called it a day and left Houston for a quieter life.

  A couple of houses later, Sarah said goodbye, leaving Tiva and her foster father to walk one more block to their home.

  Having respected Tiva’s wishes to be treated more like a big girl than a child during the walk home, Darren moved up alongside her and smiled. “So, did you have a good time today?”

  Tiva nodded and held up her make-up bag. “Jen’s mom let us practice on her younger brother, Brian.”

  Darren chuckled. “I’m sure he really appreciated that.”

  “He didn’t mind, but after a while, Brian got bored and ran away.”

  I can’t blame him, thought Darren.

  “Dad, what’s for supper?”

  Darren loved to hear Tiva call him dad. It made his heart warm. It had taken years after the abuse and trauma Tiva had endured to warm up to her foster parents, let alone call them mom and dad. Darren pretended to think for a few seconds. “I think Mom’s making chicken-fried steak.”

  “Mmm, my favorite.”

  “Mine too; that’s why Mom’s making it.”

  A steel-gray van drove out of a side street and turned down the road toward Darren and Tiva. Years of police training resulted in an unconscious habit, and Darren idly cataloged the scene: tinted windows and an unfamiliar vehicle in general. Casually, he placed himself between Tiva and the road.

  The van started to slow.

  Darren frowned. He placed his hand over his Glock 19 pistol and mentally thanked Texas for its open-carry laws.

  The van stopped, and the driver’s side window came down, revealing a young blonde-haired woman holding a map. Her hair was a mess, and she looked perturbed.

  “Excuse me, sir, but my boyfriend and I are lost.” The blonde’s voice had a hint of a Scandinavian accent in it. “Could you please tell me the best way to get back onto Highway 79?”

  Darren relaxed and lifted his hand away from his sidearm. “Sure thing. Can I please see your map?”

  “Here,” said the woman, offering Darren the map. “I’m the worst navigator in the world.”

  “Let me see,” he said, checking their location on the rumpled map.

  Suddenly, the woman said coldly, “Sorry.”

  Darren looked back at the van. His eyes widened at the sight of a gun aimed at him. Before he could warn Tiva to run, the woman pulled the trigger, firing a tranquilizing dart into the former officer’s neck. To Darren’s horror, a side door on the van flung open, and two other women dressed in black ran outside and grabbed hold of Tiva. His vision narrowed a second later as his knees buckled, and he tumbled onto the pavement.

  “Daddy!” screamed Tiva in terror as she was forced into the van, and its door slammed shut. Unfortunately, he could do nothing as the drugs surged through his blood. In seconds, he passed out and would remain asleep for hours.

  “Go,” yelled the blonde to the driver.

  The driver slammed her foot on the gas pedal and dove the van out of the quiet, sleepy community onto a dusty back road where another vehicle awaited their arrival. Hours later, when the authorities found the abandoned van, there was no trace of Tiva or its occupants, only a new set of tires heading east toward Louisiana. It was now a matter for the FBI, but even they would be too late to help. Tiva and her captors were already safely outside of the country in Haiti, awaiting orders for their next move.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Nuuk, Greenland

  At precisely eight o’clock in the morning, on a calm sea, Yuri revved the engine of his rented, red and white Twin Otter, startling a handful of seagulls hovering near the busy pier, sending them squawking and flying skyward. Then, Yuri steered the floatplane into the harbor, increased speed, and took off. Connor sat in the co-pilot’s seat, with a map spread out on his lap, while in the back, Gunnar and Kim operated the LiDAR via a laptop computer. Finally, Yuri banked the DHC-6 Twin Otter over and headed for their first search area just south of the Arctic Circle. Gunnar doubted any Norse family had ever lived that far north, so he suggested they eliminate that area first before heading south.

  “I’ve never understood why they call this place Greenland when it’s clearly not,” said Kim to Gunnar.

  Gunnar smiled and pointed to a map. “Hundreds of years ago, when the Vikings first settled here, the north went through a warm spell that lasted well into the early thirteen hundreds. The land back then was good for farming, and thousands of Norse families emigrated to Greenland to make a new life for themselves. Some, as you know, pushed on a little bit further to Newfoundland and settled there.”

  “So, what made them leave?”

  “No one really knows, but I like to think that it was a combination of climate change and a decline in the value of walrus ivory in Europe. The ivory trade had been one of their chief sources of revenue for centuries, and when cheaper ivory from Russia and Africa began to arrive in Europe, the bottom fell out of the market. So, one by one, the families abandoned Greenland and sailed back home. The last recorded western settlement was abandoned in 1350. As for the southern settlements, there is a lot of scholarly debate as to when the last people left Greenland for Iceland. Some say 1408 and others as late as 1480.”

  “And what do you think?”

  Gunnar shrugged. “I’m not sure. My area of expertise is on the western settlements, and there, we have definitive proof of when the last ship sailed for Iceland.”

  “What about the Inuit? Did they have an impact?”

  “A good question, but once again, the records are sparse. But, most assuredly, there was contact. How much that played into the Norse’s decision to leave Greenland has yet to be decided.”

  “Whatever happened, I find the subject quite interesting. How long is it until we can begin our search?”

  Gunnar checked his watch. “If your pilot is as good as he says he is, we should reach the Arctic Circle just before nine o’clock, and then we can begin our search.”

  Kim smiled. The thought of finding a settlement lost for more than five hundred years excited her. She turned in her seat, looked down on the rocky coastline, and tried to imagine living in such barren and inhospitable terrain. A shiver ran down her back. Life would have been hard for Grenier, and the rest of the people marooned on a deserted island. No wonder so many died in their first winter trapped in the ice.

  An hour later, Yuri turned the plane around and started to fly slowly south in a zigzag pattern over the seemingly never-ending islands that dotted the coastline. Some were no larger than a car, while others were kilometers across.

  “Yuri, the LiDAR works best at two thousand meters,” said Gunnar into his headset mic.

  “Roger that,” replied Yuri. “Making our elevation two thousand meters.”

  Kim felt her stomach rise as the plane dropped from the sky to take up its new patrol altitude. She waited until the Twin Otter was level before asking, “Gunnar, do all of these islands have a name? Because there’s a hell of a lot of them out there.”

  “I’m sure they do to the local Inuit, but most have yet to be recorded by the government back in Nuuk.”

  “Where does your family come from?” Kim asked.

  “I was born in Oaanaaq,” replied Gunnar. “Which the world knows as Thule. My family has lived there for generations. However, my parents insisted that I get an education and shipped me off to live with my uncle in Nuuk while I went to school and university. And you, where does your family come from?”

  “I wish I knew my ancestry. All I can say with certainty is that I’m Cree, and I was born in the Eagle River First Nations Reserve in Alberta, Canada, and raised by my grandparents. I have a sister with a daughter, Tiva, whom I hate to say I haven’t seen in a few years. I’m also embarrassed to say that this is all I know. One day I’m going to have to do one of those DNA tests to see where I come from.”

  A beep sounded from Gunnar’s laptop, ending the conversation. He announced excitedly, “I’ve got something.”

  Kim moved over to better see the ground beneath the plane through the LiDAR imagery. The picture was a mix of blues, greens, reds, and yellows. She couldn’t tell what had caught Gunnar’s eyes in the myriad colors.

  Gunnar keyed his mic. “Yuri, can we take another pass over the large, crescent-shaped island we just flew over?”

  “Can do; just give me a minute.”

  “What did you see?” asked Connor over the headset.

  “I’m not sure, but it looked manmade,” replied Gunnar.

  Yuri turned the Twin Otter around and slowly approached the island.

  Everyone held their breath as they flew over the top of the bleak-looking island. The laptop beeped again.

  “There,” said Gunnar, pointing at a red oblong-shaped object.

  “Should I land the plane?” asked Yuri.

  Gunnar enlarged the picture and swore under his breath. “No. It’s a fishing boat that must have washed ashore decades ago and then rotted.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Connor.

  “Yeah. It looks like the kind my great-grandfather used to use back when he was a fisherman.”

  “Damn,” said Kim, feeling the built-up excitement leave her stomach. “I was really hoping we’d found the treasure the first time out.”

  “It’s never that simple,” explained Gunnar. “The closer we get to Nuuk, the more false alarms we’re bound to encounter. Your five-day plan may turn out to be a bit of an overly optimistic timetable.”

  Kim sighed frustratedly and muttered, “We’re lucky if we have another seventy-two hours.”

  Gunnar leaned forward. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

  “Nothing. It was nothing; I was just upset that we hadn’t found the treasure.”

  “Patience is the key to the game.”

  Gunnar's laptop beeped again as the plane flew over an island with a tall, flat hill at the northern end.

  Kim sat back. It was going to be a long day, indeed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Paris, France

  It didn’t matter which model walked past him wearing the newest fashions; Rene DuFour was growing bored and restless. His redheaded minder, Demi, sat beside him, raptly watching the models, not saying a word. Ever since Vallin had lost contact with North and Swiftwater in Thailand, it was like Vallin had dropped off the face of the Earth. DuFour thought a weekend in Paris, taking in the latest fashion shows, would prove to be a relaxing distraction. Regrettably, the exact opposite had occurred. The quieter Vallin was, the more agitated DuFour became. Finally, unable to take it anymore, he excused himself, exited his seat, and walked to the back of the exhibition house for some privacy.

  A balding, pale-white man in a tuxedo with a pencil-thin mustache hurried over. “Is there something wrong, monsieur? Is there something else perhaps I could show you?”

  DuFour waved his hand dismissively in the air. “No, Pierre, your exhibition is breathtaking. I just need some space for a few minutes to think.”

  “But of course, monsieur. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  “Some time alone will be fine right now.”

  Pierre bowed his head slightly and hurried back to the stage.

  DuFour sat at an empty table and dug out his phone. He saw there were four unanswered calls and checked them. His eyes widened when he saw Vallin’s name. DuFour cursed himself for turning his phone off when he sat down to watch the show. He hurriedly returned Vallin’s call.

  “Yes, sir,” said Vallin.

  “Do you have news for me?” demanded DuFour.

  “Yes, I do.” Vallin calmly explained that he had ordered some of his people to kidnap Tiva Swiftwater and hold her until she became a valuable pawn in the game.

  “Excellent plan, Jean. But what of the map? Have you found Swiftwater and North?”

  “No, sir, but it’s only a matter of time before I do.”

  DuFour’s phone beeped. “One minute, Jean, I have another call.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Yes,” said DuFour curtly to his private secretary back at his chalet.

  “Sir, it’s me, Dominic,” said the other caller.

  “Yes, what of it?”

  “Sir, I just sent you a text message; I think you need to read it.”

  DuFour grumbled to himself. That was until he read the message. Then, in a flash, his mood changed. “Dominic, are you sure this is a legitimate text and not some hoax?”

  “I thought the same as you,” replied Dominic. “But I did some digging, and it would appear to be legit.”

  DuFour could barely contain himself. “My God, this is the best news I’ve received in weeks. Did he mention the map?”

  “No, sir. He’s not sure what they are looking for, only that they’ve been at it for the past two days and that whatever they’re looking for is quite valuable.”

  DuFour paused. “How did he know to contact me?”

  “He said he’d heard your name brought up in conversation and took it from there. Sir, he’s asking for twenty-five thousand dollars to keep you in the loop.”

  DuFour grinned. “Reply immediately and let the person know I will pay their demand for twenty-five thousand dollars. Hell, I’d pay a million for news like this. But don’t let him know that.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Dominic.

  DuFour hung up on Dominic and recommenced talking with Vallin. “Jean, stop whatever you’re doing.”

  “Yes, of course, sir. Is there something you want to pass on to me?”

  DuFour’s eyes lit up. “They’re in Greenland looking for the treasure as we speak. Assemble a team and bring the girl with you. It’s time we put your plan into action.”