Inca Gold - Cussler Clive (читать онлайн полную книгу .TXT) 📗

    Giordino nodded at Amaru. "Our friend here shot him in the heart for no good reason. He's also the guy who dropped the safety line down around your head."

    "Then I won't bother myself with remorse," Pitt said, staring down at Amaru, who was clutching his groin and moaning in agony, fearful of looking to ascertain the damage. "Kind of makes me warm all over knowing that his sex life just went dysfunctional. Does he have a name?"

    "Calls himself Tupac Amaru," answered Shannon. "The name of the last Inca king. Probably took it to impress the hill people."

    "The Peruvian students," Giordino said, remembering. "They were herded down a stairway underneath the temple."

    "I've already released them. Brave kids. By now they should have the guerrillas tied up and neatly packaged until the government authorities arrive."

    "Not guerrillas, and hardly dedicated revolutionaries. More like professional artifact looters masquerading as Shining Path terrorists. They pillage precious antiquities to sell through international underground markets."

    "Amaru is only the base of a totem pole," added Rodgers. "His clients are the distributors who make the bulk of the profits."

    "They have good taste," observed Pitt. "From what I glimpsed, there must be enough prime merchandise stashed here to satisfy half the museums and private collectors in the world."

    Shannon hesitated a moment, then stepped up to Pitt, put her hands around his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him lightly on the lips. "You saved our lives. Thank you."

    "Not once but twice," Rodgers added, pumping Pitt's hand while Shannon still clung to him.

    "A lot of luck was involved," Pitt said with uncharacteristic embarrassment. Despite the damp, stringy hair, the lack of makeup, the dirty and torn blouse over the black swimsuit, and the incongruous hiking boots, he still saw a sensual lustiness about her.

    "Thank God you got here when you did," said Shannon with a shiver.

    "I deeply regret I was too late to save Doc Miller."

    "Where have they taken him?" asked Rodgers.

    "I stopped the scum who was disposing of the body just outside the temple entrance. Doc is lying on the landing above the steps."

    Giordino gazed at Pitt, inspecting him from head to toe, observing the multitude of cuts and scratches on his friend's face and arms from his race through the jungle in the dark, seeing a man who was all but dead on his feet. "You look like you just finished a triathlon and then fell on a roll of barbed wire. As your resident medicine man, I recommend a few hours rest before we hike back to the sinkhole campsite."

    "I look worse than I feel," Pitt said cheerfully. "Time enough for a snooze later. First things first. Me, I don't have the slightest inclination to play Tarzan again. I'm taking the next flight out of here."

    "Madness," muttered Giordino half in jest. "A few hours in the jungle and he goes flaky."

    "Do you really think we can fly out of here?" inquired Shannon skeptically.

    "Absolutely," Pitt said. "In fact I guarantee it."

    Rodgers stared at him. "Only a helicopter could come in and out of the valley."

    Pitt grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way. How else do you think Amaru, or whatever his name is, transports his stolen goods to a coastal port for shipment out of the country? That calls for a communications system, so there must be a radio around we can appropriate to send out a call for help."

    Giordino gave an approving nod. "Makes sense, providing we can find it. A portable radio could be hidden anywhere in one of the surrounding ruins. We could spend days looking for it."

    Pitt stared down at Amaru, his face expressionless. "He knows where it is."

    Amaru fought off the pain and stared back at Pitt with black malignant eyes. "We have no radio," he hissed through clenched teeth.

    "Forgive me if I don't take you at your word. Where do you keep it?"

    "I will tell you nothing." Amaru's mouth twisted as he spoke.

    "Would you rather die?" Pitt queried dryly.

    "You would do me a service by killing me."

    Pitt's green eyes were as cold as a lake above timberline. "How many women have you raped and murdered?"

    Amaru's expression was contemptuous. "So numerous I've lost count."

    "You want me to fly into a rage and blow you away, is that it?"

    "Why don't you ask how many children I've slaughtered?"

    "You're only kidding yourself." Pitt took the Colt .45 and placed the muzzle against the side of Amaru's face. "Kill you? I fail to see the percentage in that. One shot through both eyes would be more appropriate. You'll still live, but along with your other recent impairment you'll also be blind."

    Amaru put on a show of arrogance, but there was unmistakable fear in his dead eyes, and there was a noticeable trembling of his lips. "You're bluffing."

    "After the eyes, then the kneecaps," Pitt described conversationally. "Perhaps the ears next, or better yet the nose. If I were you, I'd quit while I was ahead."

    Seeing that Pitt was stone-cold serious, and realizing he was at a dead end, Amaru caved in. "You'll find what you're looking for inside a round building fifty meters west of the temple. There is a monkey carved above the doorway."

    Pitt turned to Giordino. "Take one of the students with you to translate. Contact the nearest Peruvian authorities. Give our location and report our situation. Then request they send in an army unit. There may be more of these characters lurking in the ruins."

    Giordino looked thoughtfully at Amaru. "If I send a Mayday over an open frequency, this homicidal maniac's pals in Lima might very well pick it up and send in a force of goons ahead of the army."

    "Trusting the army can be touch-and-go," added Shannon. "One or more of their high-ranking officers could be in on this."

    "Graft," Pitt stated philosophically, "makes the world go round."

    Rodgers nodded. "Shannon's right. This is tomb robbery on a grand scale. The profits could easily match the take of any top drug smuggling operation. Whoever the mastermind is, he couldn't conduct business without paying off government officials."

    "We can use our own frequency and contact Juan," suggested Shannon.

    "Juan?"

    "Juan Chaco, the Peruvian government coordinator for our project. He's in charge of our supply headquarters at the nearest city."

    "Can he be trusted?"

    "I believe so," Shannon replied without hesitation. "Juan is one of the most respected archaeologists in South America, and a leading scholar on Andean cultures. He's also the government watchdog on illegal diggings and smuggling of antiquities."

    "Sounds like our man," Pitt said to Giordino. "Find the radio, call him up and ask for a chopper to airlift us the hell back to our ship."

    "I'll go with you and notify Juan of Doc's murder," offered Shannon. "I'd also like a closer look at the structures around the temple."

    "Take along weapons and keep a sharp eye," Pitt warned them.

    "What about Doc's body?" asked Rodgers. "We can't leave him lying around like a road kill."