Agent with a History
Chapter Fourteen
Frustration
We landed in the late afternoon on the Congo itself. I was surprised to soon see a motor boat cut out from the shoreline and head toward us. I glanced at Flint, but he didn’t seem to be alarmed by the boat’s approach and then I saw why.
The boats occupants were Tyre and Galloway. I might have known these two would show up again. Tyre had traded in his Dick Tracey fedora for a weather beaten hat straight out of Indiana Jones.
One couldn’t deny the fact that the man liked his hats. Galloway, in true typical American fashion, was wearing a baseball cap with John Deere emblazoned across it in green lettering. A little less obvious might have been helpful, but Galloway wasn’t going to pull off being anything other than what he was, which was a rowdy, country loving, southern boy rebel at heart.
Tyre, on the other hand, pulled off secret agent man rather well, I thought. He had no accent; not even so much as an inflection of speech. His features were slightly Eurasian in appearance, which had me placing him in the northern European region as a place of origin, but in truth I had no idea.
He must be a lover of American film cinema, if his stylish get ups were anything to go by. When the boat reached us, they moved out of it onto one of the pontoons and then, surprisingly, began to switch places with us.
I overheard Flint ask Tyre, “The competition arrive yet?”
“Several members, most notably the CIA, but they’re not the one's you have to worry about. The homegrown boys know we’re here and they’re closing in fast,” Tyre responded.
How did that bit of information, regarding the CIA being added to the list of tomb robbers, not surprise me?
I stepped down into the boat and Galloway called out, “Good luck, you two!”
Flint waved and we moved off from the plane, as it roared back to life.
I looked at the little plane rather fondly as it took off. I’d had love expressed toward me in that little plane and now, as I glanced at Flint’s strong features in the evening shadows, I just prayed I’d get to experience a lifetime to go along with this new found love.
Flint pulled the boat alongside the muddy bank and pushed me into the shallows, as he quickly followed after me, letting the boat drift away down the river. Together we slogged up the bank and started walking out over the barren plain with nothing in sight.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, not liking the idea of walking the African plains in this unstable area in either broad daylight or by moonlight.
We ambled down into a depression that had some shrubbery. I was starting to wonder if I was going to get an answer when Flint lifted the edge of a sand camouflaged tarp and flicked it back to reveal a British Landover type jeep, which instantly made me feel better.
Once we were in it, Flint opened a sack and handed me a plastic bag. “Allow me to present your dinner, your highness.”
I wrinkled up my face distastefully, when I realized it was a military ration pack. He just laughed and started driving.
“You never answered my question," I said pointedly.
He glanced over, “You have your secrets and I have mine.”
He couldn’t be serious!
I saw his mouth twitch slightly and then I knew he was playing me. I socked him in the shoulder.
“Ouch! You’re mean!”
“Oh shut up, you wussy, and spill the beans!”
“You just told me to shut up and I’m supposed to tell you anything?”
I raised my fist again and he chuckled. “I know where three of the old caravan stops are.”
“Three?” I glanced at him, surprised.
“That’s right, three. Your father was only told of two. Ahmed and Phillip quickly came to the conclusion that your father wasn’t to be trusted, especially when it concerned money. They outlined their first two discoveries in great detail, but said they were ambushed by a group of raiders when they tried to go on, which was only partly true. They were ambushed on the way back from the third site, not going to it, as they had told your father. Your father, deeming the expedition a waste of his time, refused to pay the survivors what he had agreed to and told the two men that, if they told anyone of what they had been hunting for, their lives would be forfeit. The two men split and went dark for a few years and then, as they had planned, they started to get ready to return to the third caravan stop; but fate intervened. Phillip got in trouble and, to bargain his way out, he leaked what he knew of the treasure to outsiders. Ahmed, well Ahmed found love and was content with what he had in life without risking everything to go back.”
“Flint, the treasure is not at this caravan stop.”
“Glad you clarified that for me, but I already knew that. However there was more than enough gold fragments left to entice the greed of the two men, enough to give them a couple of million each, according to Phillip. More interesting to me is that Ahmed said that there were murals depicting various scenes that had been stunningly preserved in the dry desert air. He hadn’t gotten to examine them for very long and he dared not take any pictures for fear of your father finding them. Your father had both men searched quite extensively. I’m hoping that I can beat whoever Phillip told about the place to it and that some of the murals there will show me the next stop. Either way you can kick back and relax as it will take a couple of days to get there.”
I leaned back against the seat and turned my face to the window. A nervous tick started jumping above one eye. I knew nothing of this surviving caravan stop that still had gold chunks littering the floor and, apparently, neither had the last Candace. Just what secrets might these murals reveal?