Page 83

CHAPTER 82

I WAS BEGINNING to have second thoughts about abandoning the Land Rover.

I’d sold it to the manager of a gas station near Kianza for forty-four million francs. In two days, I’d only put a few hundred miles on the truck, but they were hard miles. By the end, the transmission was getting balky. I was happy to get most of my investment back.

I figured that in this part of the world, a huge, heavily armed white man in a red truck might set off alarms. If Kira was really in a fight with mercenaries, the last thing I needed was for them to see me coming. So I bought a backpack, loaded it with camping tools and beef jerky, strapped my guns on my shoulders, and headed out into the jungle alone. On foot.

As daylight faded, I was regretting my move.

I’d spent time in jungles before—once on a research expedition down the Amazon as a grad student, and once on an archaeological dig in Costa Rica. But back then I was part of a team, working from established base camps. We had tents and cooks and fresh food trucked in.

I had none of that now. I had only myself.

The foliage was so thick I could hardly see the sky. It was like being in a huge terrarium. I was hacking my way through the underbrush with a machete, whacking branches and vines as thick as my wrist. Every strike sent up flakes of bark and a flurry of bugs. Most of them seemed to find their way into my ears and eyes.

I was marking my progress in yards, not miles. And before I knew it, it was dusk. I’d hoped to reach some kind of a village or outpost for shelter. At this point, even the kind of lean-to Kira and I built on the island would look pretty damned good. But I knew I couldn’t sleep on the ground. I’d be eaten alive by bugs, or something bigger.

I thought about climbing a tree, but I didn’t see any branches that would hold me and all my gear.

I took another swipe at the vines in front of me. Then I stopped. When I blinked the sweat out of my eyes, I thought I saw a rectangular shape poking out of the jungle about twenty yards ahead. Not natural. I thought my mind was just making it up.

I hacked my way a few yards closer. Nope. It was real. And man-made. As I pushed more branches aside, I could see a frame of rough timbers, grayed and rotted. It was the opening to what looked like a dark cave. There was a pile of rocks alongside and a post that held a metal sign dangling from a single rusted hook.

I could only translate one word on the sign, but it was enough.

Lucky me. I’d discovered a gold mine.