He was just dropping off then when the strangest of faint noises drifted his way from further along the small gorge. It sounded like a woman’s voice, which surprised him because nobody else was around. He listened, more intent now, and this time heard the unmistakable sound of a man’s voice, followed by the woman’s again. It was his student Kate Edgewood and the Spanish Professor De La Cruz, and knowing it was them, and though it was a little odd, he relaxed back into his snooze. But then he heard a third voice and knew it was Howie Hooper.

  He wasn’t sure why, but his instincts niggled him. Why were they speaking together, and so far away from the camp? Like Kane, Haines had never been that comfortable with the American, a man who’d been aloof the entire time. He had shown compassion when A. J. Waters was forced to return to Cuzco, but aside from that he seemed to have no other redeeming features. In simple terms, nobody seemed to like him.

  From where John was sitting he felt sure the group couldn’t see him. His interest piqued he continued to listen. The voices came to him louder now, as if more animated. It sounded as if there was some anger among them, maybe resentment, and his mild curiosity grew to suspicious scrutiny. What on earth could that unlikely trio be arguing about?

  Haines strained his ears, and what he heard next shocked John to his core. It was the voice of Howie Hooper, and this is what he said. “I will take care of it. He’ll be dead by morning.”

  Dead! Who would be dead? Professor Haines was a calm man by nature, but in that moment his instincts screamed at him that things were about to go very, very bad. He had to get back to tell Kane what he’d heard, and was about to dash back to camp when he saw a flash of colour, and he knew that the conspirators were coming his way. If they saw him, they would guess John had heard them and he would find himself in mortal danger. With no time to make it out of the gorge before they did, and knowing they were imminent, the old professor threw himself into a crevice between two large rocks, and holding his breath, he hoped beyond hope they’d miss him as they passed.

  Their conversation over, the three colluding people made their way along the narrow gorge. John didn’t dare risk a look, and lay as still and silent as possible. Only one person was on his mind: Kate Edgewood. He just could not bring himself to believe she would get involved in anything so heinous as murder. But his ears hadn’t deceived him. It was her, and there had been talk of killing. What has happened to her? Has she been corrupted by the lure of treasure? John had no idea yet that it was De La Cruz orchestrating things, and that their mission was in the name of Catholicism. His best guess was that the three of them were using Kane to locate Vilcabamba and claim the treasure and the glory for themselves. It was a terrible notion, and John was disgusted with them all. Especially his own student Kate. He could not know, but the truth was many times worse than he imagined.

  But what he knew was this: sometime before tomorrow’s dawn one of their contingent would be murdered. He had to tell Kane, and quick.

  Untitled

  The old professor didn’t know where to begin. What he had to tell Kane was both shocking and unbelievable. Despite his ongoing reservations about Hooper, Kane was known as a pragmatic man, a realist, and tried only to see the good in the world and the very best in people. To learn some gang of criminals might be using him and his skills for a heinous cause would be heartbreaking.

  However, a life was at stake, maybe more, and Hiram had to know. John knew he had to approach Hiram in such a way so as not to arouse suspicions among the three criminals. On top of that, he could not risk creating a situation where Kane would confront the group in a rage. There was no time to waste, and it would be difficult. It had to be now, and now was not the time for mistakes.

  Walking back into camp, he soon saw Kane sitting by the fire, sipping pensively at a cup of tea. He was alone. Good. “Hiram, how do you feel this morning? It was a tough day yesterday.” Haines oozed calm. It was an act.

  “Morning. Tell you the truth, I feel out of sorts. Didn’t sleep well. Something’s niggling me, but I can’t put my finger on what. Middle age, I suspect,” and he grinned. “How about you? How are those joints of yours holding out?” The pair enjoyed their ageist banter.

  “You know,” John replied, “same as always, plenty of life in this old frame yet.” John smiled momentarily, but then his face hardened. “We need to talk. Now. Follow me.”

  Hiram couldn’t ignore the rare seriousness in the professor’s face. Something was up, and he followed John without a word. Clear of the camp, Haines turned to face a worried Hiram.

  “Hiram, what I’m about to tell you will be difficult to understand, but I need you to promise me you won’t react. We need to be careful.” John said it with such quiet authority it snared Kane’s full attention.

  Hiram nodded. “Go on.”

  “Your map is the only known map to Vilcabamba in the world. Few people even know it exists. Whether it’s accurate only time will tell, but as you can probably guess there are people out there who’d do anything to have it. But even if someone else had the map, chances are high they wouldn’t possess the skills to use it. So, what I’m…”

  “What are you getting at, John? Kane cut in.”

  John Haines paused. He had to select his words with care.

  “I think there are people on this expedition with nefarious motives. I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but I think they plan to use you to get to Vilcabamba, and take the treasure by force.” The professor watched Hiram’s reaction, waiting for shock to appear. But Kane sat there stony faced, almost as if he had considered this already.

  “Go on, John,” he said again.

  “I overheard a conversation between Kate, Howie and the Spaniard, Angelo. They were beyond the camp, I guess for secrecy, and Howie said… well, said ‘he’ll be dead by morning.’” John held Hiram’s gaze to let him know he was serious. “I guess their plan is to kill you and use the map themselves.”

  Kane stared back into the pale blue eyes of his friend and knew he’d spoken with honesty. He believed John, and what John had heard made sense. Kane did have the only map, and he knew there were criminals around who’d do whatever it took to get their hands on the treasure. But now? On this expedition? And right then, everything he had thought about Howie Hooper came roaring into focus.

  Without another word, Kane strode with ominous intent towards camp.

  Haines was an old man. He was fit, no question, but he was closing in on seventy and speed was a distant memory. He couldn’t know what Kane had in mind, but one look in Hiram’s eyes and John knew it wouldn’t be good.

  He had to stop him before he got to camp, and the way he moved after the much younger man belied his age. He tore after Kane as if his life, and the lives of the others nearby, depended on it. For all John Haines knew, they did. He didn’t want to shout and raise any suspicions among the criminals, so with his last ounce of energy and with his aged knees protesting, John was at last close enough to grab Hiram by the shirt and stop him in his tracks. The way he next gripped onto Kane’s arms, his strength a surprise to them both, meant he was serious. But Kane’s rage was bursting for an outlet, and he shook free of the old man’s grip.

  “Get off…”

  “Wait, Hiram. You must wait.”

  Kane stood still, muscles taut and breathing hard. He stared over John’s sagging shoulders, trying to see into the camp beyond. There was murder in his eyes.

  “Listen. I don’t know exactly what’s happening,” cautioned Haines. “But I do know this. There’re some sinister characters down there, and they’re probably armed. We must act with caution.”

  When Kane was younger, in the aftermath of his brother Danny going missing, he got into too many fights. He wasn’t violent by nature, but that event had unleashed in him a fury not seen before. He wouldn’t exactly look for trouble, but at the slightest provocation, whether intended or not, Hiram would take out his sadness and guilt on anyone who crossed him. And right now, that dormant rage was about to explode in the direction of Hooper, whether armed or not. But John placed his hands once more on Kane’s forearms, pleading for a moment of calm.

  “Hiram, we have to make a plan. Who knows how organised this gang is. They may be carrying guns for all we know. Rushing in there now to confront them is dangerous, both for you and for the others. Think of Evan. Think of Alex.”

  Kane took some deep breaths, and despite his rage he knew John was right. He clenched and unclenched his fists, furling them in and out of tight balls, the skin on his knuckles strained white. But after a few moments, Kane nodded.

  John spoke next, and it was decisive. “The next decisions we make will be the most important of our lives.”

  He couldn’t know how prophetic his words would be.

  True Colours

  The majority of the camp awoke late, and since sunlight arrives slowly between the peaks and cols of the Andes, it was a chilly start. The porters had the campfire roused and all the expedition members except Kane and Haines had huddled close.

  Holding centre stage, and oblivious to the nefarious plans scheming around her, Alexandria Ridley shared a story about Kane. The audience sat in rapt attention, and even Yupanqui the cook listened in.

  “He was like a kid with a new bike,” she said, her affection for Kane clear. “The map was meant to remain secret, but he just had to tell someone, and he trusted me. You’re here, so of course you already know.” The fire illuminated Ridley’s pretty face, and her own excitement was palpable. She went on. “Hiram always felt it was his destiny to find Vilcabamba, and as you know his family has a long and interesting connection to the mystery. But–” Ridley paused, careful with her words. “But he always worried somebody else would unravel the secret first, and not because he wants glory for himself. You all know that. Hiram is the most conscientious person I’ve ever met, and he cares for the Peruvians and feels great kinship among them. The main reason he’s so keen to locate Vilcabamba first is to safeguard whatever treasures he finds for its legitimate heirs. Considering the estimated value of Atahualpa’s hoard, that’s a lot of pressure.”

  “What is it worth?” The sharpness with which Edgewood blurted her question surprised them all, including herself, and she scrambled to hide the greed from her voice. “What I mean is, it’s one of the greatest unsolved mysteries of the last century.” She looked around at the others, and in a quieter voice, said, “Aren’t you all curious?” They all were.

  “Well, the world’s experts all have opinions about the treasure’s current market value.” Ridley looked about with mock concern in case Hiram was listening, before saying, with a conspiratorial wink, “The purist Hiram would never divulge such things, but in his absence, I’ll say that recent estimates–figures he actually agrees with–value the lost Inca gold at over two billion dollars.” Edgewood gasped aloud, but the others sat in astonished silence, lost in their thoughts about such a staggering sum of money. Only Yupanqui stirred, and with a strange expression on his face, walked away from the fire.

  As they sat there, each thinking about Kane and the map and what it meant for them as individuals, their inner thoughts could not have been more diverse. Evan was just excited he was involved, but moreover, he was pleased for his friend, who would finally locate what’d driven him all these years. As designated photographer, he’d get to share in the moment, and if this was work, Craft thought, then this is as good as it gets. I might even get a tiny slice of the pie, he mused with a bashful smile.

  Hooper was on a holy mission, in that stinking jungle doing the work of God. And yet… all that money. I could take just a little and disappear forever. So tempting. Hooper wasn’t the most devout of Catholics but had sufficient faith to dismiss the idea rather than face the wrath of God. And if not God, he didn’t want to face the wrath of Angelo De La Cruz, either. The man scared him with his intense fundamentalist beliefs, and if he crossed him, Hooper knew his fate would be worse than if he’d sinned before God.

  Kate Edgewood had heard those estimates before, though she thought them fanciful and exaggerated. But now the same wild figures came almost literally from the horse’s mouth. It was Ridley who’d told them, but she said Kane agreed, and the Kane family were considered experts on the subject. Edgewood also knew that the map came from Hiram Bingham himself.

  Before the expedition, Edgewood believed that without the map Kane had no more chance of discovering Vilcabamba than anyone before him, just another tainted yet whimsical explorer. But now she’d met him and seen his skill and passion first hand, she wasn’t so sure. The map alone would be useless without his abilities. But with the map in Kane’s hands, you not only had the world’s only known map to Vilcabamba, but the world’s most equipped person to use it. It had to mean success.

  What Edgewood now knew, Angelo de La Cruz had always known. As was his habit, he sat adrift from the group, and what might have appeared as rude aloofness was instead a calculated tactic to remain outside the collective and analyse everyone with discretion. He wasn’t only keeping an eye on Ridley and Craft, and the old man Haines, whom he didn’t trust at all, but also Ferdinand’s choice of accomplices. Edgewood had let herself down earlier, and now everyone knew how much she craved the gold. Nevertheless, he trusted her.

  Hooper was another matter. He was Catholic, but that wasn’t enough to be a loyal servant of God and not just one of the flock. You had to carry out orders, one of which he’d already failed, and have the courage to put yourself on the line. If required, you would sacrifice yourself for the greater good. De La Cruz was capable, and had almost died several times serving his Master. Despite her selfish desires, the Spaniard believed Kate was also capable. But Hooper worried him, and he had a distinct notion that one way or another the American wouldn’t be leaving those godforsaken mountains alive.

  That was okay. If his death was necessary to complete the mission, so be it, even if it was at the professor’s own hands.

  “He’ll be dead by morning,” said John. “That’s what Hooper said. He must mean you, Hiram.”

  Kane and Haines were trying to figure out a plan. With the map, Kane was the obvious target of the group, but it still made little sense. Without Kane, they’d have no chance of success.

  “Let’s think about them for a minute,” continued John. “It's an un unlikely trio, isn't it? A Spanish professor, an English student, and an American writer? What’s the link, and how did they come together? What do they have in common, other than criminal intent?” It was a good question with no obvious answer.

  Kane thought hard but was so angry that clear thought eluded him. “I don’t know John, I only know I want to strangle Hooper and throw him off a cliff.”

  With a look into Kane’s eyes, John knew he’d do it. “Look, we need to work out their plan and stop them before anyone gets hurt. What’s the common factor between them?”

  They didn’t speak for many minutes. Unseen birds chirped, and the swaying of jungle trees broke the silence as a thought materialised in John’s mind. He didn’t like it. “They’re all Catholics.”

  “Catholics? So what?” Kane didn’t get it.

  “They are all Catholics. Now I think about it, I’ve seen them all make the sign of the cross on multiple occasions.” Haines nodded as he spoke, as if it made perfect sense.

  “But what does that mean? So what if they’re Catholics, doesn’t make them criminals.”

  But as the moments passed, John became more and more sure of himself. “Have you ever heard of the Eagle Alliance?”

  Kane hadn’t.

  “The Eagle Alliance is a little known Catholic group based in Europe. Nobody knows who leads it, but it’s believed they’re responsible for several low-level terrorist acts across the continent. They’ve never claimed responsibility, but the rumours won’t go away. I wonder if…”

  “Are you suggesting they’re Catholic terrorists? Those clowns? You’re joking, right?” said a bemused Kane, but John wasn’t smiling.

  “Think about it, and bear with me. Take Angelo, a professor with Spanish heritage. A Catholic. Probably the leader. And I agree it sounds far fetched, but Kate’s a determined woman with financial influence. Also Catholic. And Howie Hooper. Strong, dedicated and Catholic. Those factors alone mean nothing, and doesn’t explain why they want the gold. Unless…”

  Kane couldn’t believe it, and if he wasn’t so angry it would’ve seemed comical. To learn there was even such a thing as Catholic terrorists, let alone on his expedition, was beyond his imagination, but when he looked at his friend he saw a man with total faith in his convictions. He’d never seen John more sincere.

  “Hiram, listen to me. In recent years there’s been a swell of national pride among the native Peruvians, leading to attacks on churches, like we saw in Cuzco. Plus, numerous incidents of vandalism against conquistador monuments, including Pizarro’s statue in Lima. What if… What if the Eagle Alliance, who aren’t directly affiliated with mainstream Catholicism, are after Atahualpa’s treasure, and plan to use that wealth to crush the Inca Uprising? It makes some sense. With your map, they’ll find Vilcabamba, and who knows what contacts they have in Peru to trade the gold for weapons? With international terrorism these days, anything’s possible, especially if theories about the treasure’s worth are true.”

  If anyone other than his former Professor John Haines had said those words it would have sounded to Kane like some ridiculous conspiracy theory. But he trusted and respected John unconditionally and knew he wasn’t one for fairy tales.

  “Let’s just assume you’re right for a minute. What do you think they’ll do? They can’t just shoot me. They’d never find Vilcabamba, even with the map. They need me and Sonco to lead them.” An unnerving thought then struck him. “What about if it’s not me they mean to kill. What if it’s… what if it’s you, or Evan? They know I’d do anything to protect you both.”