Chapter 28
Hell or High Water
Drake smiled under her black umbrella. The dank smell of the bush reminded her of a long-ago childhood. She surveyed the busy men before her. Soon they would deliver what was rightfully hers. This time she’d arranged everything herself. The children would be dealt with and she would possess both gems.
Cortez approached, his wet hair giving him a drowned appearance.
‘We’re ready,’ he said.
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘The men are posted around the perimeter. They’ll tighten the noose from daybreak.’
‘The entrances and exits?’
‘All covered.’ She smirked. ‘No-one will get in our way.’
‘What about the tourists?’
‘It won’t be hard to clear them out.’ Drake sneered. ‘At the bottom of every man is a coward waiting to flee. Once the earth starts moving they’ll be gone.’
‘Have you considered the Patupaiarehe?’ asked Cortez.
‘Have I considered a race of fairy people who haven’t shown their face in public for hundreds of years?’ She raised one perfect eyebrow at him.
‘We know the children have met with them. Perhaps they have given them some clue?’
‘I suppose there is a chance…’ said Drake. She shot out a gloved hand and snatched Cortez’s collar. Pulling him towards her, she whispered into his ear. ‘You have a lot of concerns. It’s surprising. Makes me think you’re backing away from the task.’
The man shook his head. ‘No. I’m just wondering – ’
‘Yes?’ snapped Drake.
‘Do you really need me in there?’ he asked. ‘Wouldn’t someone else be better at the helm?’
‘I need you,’ she cooed. ‘I need a dedicated man I can trust.’
She released him and straightened her coat. ‘The Patupaiarehe are obsolete. They may have told the children all the secrets in the world. It will do them no good. We have a drill, an objective, and a team of experts. This time tomorrow we’ll be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. The parched treasure market will be reinvigorated. Can you imagine, Cain? For decades, we’ve had everything catalogued and registered. Every major gem, its weight, history, origin, has been known. Until now. Can you imagine when the trickle begins? A few fresh and rare Arabian rubies? The fuss they will create? The prices they will fetch? And that will just be the beginning.’
‘You used my real name,’ said Wylie.
Drake turned her head. ‘Did I?’
‘There’s a legend,’ said Cortez. ‘The black widow only uses your real name the last time she sees you.’
Drake shook her head. ‘You believe some tall tales.’ She held out her hand. ‘Good luck.’
Wylie stared at the woman, stunned. He didn’t know what to believe. He looked up at the entrance of the cave. It felt like the right place. His instincts told him they were close. But at what price?
‘Goodbye then,’ said Drake.
Cortez lifted his chin. ‘Goodbye Majella.’
The woman’s eyes flared, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she lowered her hat and stepped back into the night. Cortez knew he would never see her again.
Looking back to the cave, he realised his choice; get the rubies and emeralds and catch the first plane out of the country or die here in the attempt. He lit a cigarette and took a desperate drag. This was the ultimate treasure-hunter’s dream. He was too close to give up. He stomped the cigarette into the mud and flicked up his jacket collar. He’d show Drake. Come hell or high water, those jewels would be in his hands tonight.