Lost Voyage (13 page)

“And then what?” Hunt asked.

“Then.…” A look came over Mercer as his eyes filled with a hatred Hunt had ever witnessed before.

“Then, I kill him.”

22

Hunt had given his men just enough time to wash up and grab a quick bite to eat before heading downstairs. It was made very clear to them that time was of the utmost importance at this juncture, and they were to be out in front of the hotel in thirty minutes. To his pleasure, they were not a second late.

The ride to the airstrip where the NESA jet awaited them was brief, but it had given the two friends a chance to talk about what transpired earlier in the morning.

“How did you manage to get shot in the butt?” Vigil asked with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

“It’s just a flesh wound. I barely even feel it now.” Mercer, trying to hide the embarrassment of the situation, steered the conversation in another direction.

“How did you get back to town so fast? I was on a motorcycle and you beat me.”

“I hitched a ride on a fruit truck, unbeknownst to the driver. It was stopped on the side of the road so I slid into the back and hid under a tarp trying to get as far away as possible from the compound. Luckily, it was heading my way. I reached town in no time. The good news is I had a lovely fruit salad for breakfast.”

“Anything would sound better than what we’ve eaten the last few days,” quipped Mercer.

“Yeah, but you got a nice new bike to add to your collection. That beats my meager breakfast any day.”

Mercer replied, “It amazes me how well the locals have treated us. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? I mean, these people live in constant fear of the cartel and yet they’ve offered us nothing but warmth and generosity. They know what’s going on around them, but they carry on with their everyday lives just trying to find a moment of happiness. They don’t deserve what they’re going through.”

Vigil agreed wholeheartedly with the statement. “Well, at least we were able to determine the cause of the pollution in the water supply. That’s one step we can take to repay the locals. Once we put a cleanup system in place, things should be back to normal for at least their water issues. The only thing left to do now is rid them of this barbaric moron who’s gotten just a little too big for his britches.”

“The sooner the better on that one,” replied Mercer. “Then, we can get back to the comfort of Seattle.”

Vigil decided to razz his friend a little. “You know damn well the only reason you want to get back home so badly is so you can pay a visit to your little blonde friend you found roaming through the jungle. You‘re so transparent, it kills me.”

Mercer smiled at the comment. “Eh, you’re just jealous because I always get the pretty ones. But, she is one reason. I’ll give you that.”

The two engaged in small talk until they reached the airstrip. The NESA jet was sitting on the runway with four armed men standing guard around it. The guards were part of a twelve man team Hunt had brought back with him. As it sat on the runway, the white fuselage stood out against the green background of the forest. The metallic blue strips on the wings matched the lettering on the tail fin, proudly displaying the letters of the organization which owned the jet.

The jet itself was custom built and detailed according to Hunt’s specifications. He used his military connections to call in a few favors and was able to transform a Gulfstream V into one of the most sophisticated, high performance and long range aircrafts in the world. In doing so, he was now in command of a vehicle that far exceeded the capabilities of any other private jet in the world.

With a non-stop range of slightly over seven thousand miles and a maximum speed of Mach One, NESA could reach any destination in the world for an assignment on fairly short notice. The cabin was large enough to hold up to twenty passengers, but rarely saw this number during any flight, as most of the space was taken up by computers, satellites and other research equipment. The air inside the jet was controlled by an Environmental Control System and any outside noise was virtually non-existent despite being powered by two BMW Rolls-Royce BR710-48 engines. The newest feature, in particular, was one Hunt was eager to share with his Special Operations Director.

“Sean, you and Pat come over here. I want to show you something.”

The two men followed Hunt aboard the aircraft. Staring at the unusual piece of equipment, Vigil asked the obvious question.

“And what exactly are we looking at?”

Hunt responded, “I had this developed for deep sea salvaging, but figured it would save us the time of walking through the jungle with handheld metal detectors.”

Mercer had a puzzled look on his face. “I’m still not sure what you mean, Colonel.”

“It’s a Laser Interference Gravimeter.”

“A laser
what
?” asked Vigil.

Hunt explained. “Take your typical gravimeter. It uses counter-balanced weight to measure the relative strength of gravitational force. Well, this one has been enhanced by adding a ten foot long tube with a large mirror array attached to it.”

Vigil chimed in. “I’m still confused. So, it’s basically an overpriced sonar detector?”

“Not quite,” Hunt said with a glare. “Essentially, it’s a high precision gravitational field strength meter that is one hundred times more accurate than traditional gravimeters.”

Mercer was beginning to see where all this was leading. “And we use this to find the gold lying underneath the forest floor?”

“Precisely,” pronounced Hunt. “But, since we don’t know where we’re supposed to be looking, we’ll have to do a few flyovers of the area to pinpoint a mass large enough to hold that much gold.”

Mercer’s eyes gleamed at the thought of finding the ship and its cargo. “Will it be able to detect through ash and rock?”

“There’s a three mile path length the laser can reflect through. The long path enables the LIG to detect minor variations of density in the Earth’s crust. In plain English, it performs hyper-accurate density mapping of selected areas.”

Mercer knew this meant days of wasted time searching for the gold wouldn’t be necessary. Vigil was also relieved their workload for finding the gold would be drastically reduced. He looked over at Hunt.

“Colonel, I could kiss you.”

“I told you last time, if you ever kissed me again, I would punch you right in the mouth.”

All three shared a laugh. Then, Hunt told his men to get ready for takeoff. Ten minutes later they were barreling down the runway and the plane gently lifted off the surface of the pavement.

***

Esperanza led his men through the thick brush while his employer trailed closely behind. About two hundred cartel members scoured the dense forest in the blistering heat searching for the buried ship. Vallejos was using an old map of the area, guiding the expedition to where the river originally flowed through the town of Tamarindo.

By a rough estimate, he guessed they were just around two miles from where the town stood a century and a half earlier. Knowing nothing about pyroclastic flows of volcanoes, he had Rojas do some research to try and determine how far an object the size of a ship could be displaced. To his dismay, there was no significant answer since the ship could have broken up upon impact or could have been carried further inland.

Still irritated his two prisoners had escaped; he hoped the Americans would somehow lead him to the treasure trove. Otherwise, he feared he would be leading his own men on nothing more than a wild goose chase. Outwardly, he would never show or voice this fear, but he knew he would have to locate and confront Mercer again if there was any chance at all of recovering the gold. Given the strong outnumbering of men in his favor, he didn’t see any path of resistance towards carrying out his plan.

As the day wore on, the heat became more unbearable and fatigue was setting in with most of the men. This did not persuade Esperanza to desist in his persistence to push onward. As his arm swung down, the machete easily hacked its way through the branches and leaves surrounding him. It was only after a voice called out to him that he finally stopped, much to the relief of the rest of the men.

Vallejos addressed his head of security. “Judging from this map, we aren’t too far from the town. The ship could have been buried anywhere between here and there.”

“What do you suggest, Andres? We cannot simply start digging up the entire jungle.”

Vallejos answered, “We will start by digging next to where the river was. Maybe we’ll find something promising there. If not, we move to another spot.”

“Mercer and his friend will come looking for this ship,” commented Esperanza. “Why don’t we sit back and wait for them to find it? Then, we can kill them once and for all and take the gold as ours.”

“My dear, Kervin. I admire your ruthlessness. Make no mistake about that. You will have your chance to shed the blood of these men, but you need to see the bigger picture in all of this. Once we have the gold in our hands, you can do what you wish with them. Until then, I need you to remain patient.”

Esperanza didn’t like the idea of having to wait for anything, but he knew obeying his superior was the only course of action. Swallowing his pride, he was about to respond when he was suddenly distracted by the humming of a jet engine that seemed to be drawing closer from above. Vallejos was also intrigued, and they looked up just as a jet buzzed over their heads.

Unable to discern any identifiable markings on the aircraft, they shrugged it off and continued on with their conversation. A few minutes later, they heard the same loud humming getting closer. Within seconds, the plane flew overhead and disappeared once again.

This continued frequently for the next hour as they tried to get a fix on exactly what the plane was doing. They made their way to a large field which was about fifty yards wide. From this vantage point, they hoped to get a better look at the plane that seemed to be circling above.

They didn’t have to wait long for the next pass of the aircraft. Within a minute, they finally witnessed what had puzzled them for over an hour. This time, Vallejos was able to get a look at the markings on the tail section of the aircraft before it disappeared again. He was not as shocked as he initially thought he would be when he saw the letters on the plane. In big, bold blue letters, it read,
NESA
.

***

The pilot was preparing to make another pass over the terrain. Hunt, Mercer, and Vigil were studying the gravimeter’s readings, which so far had revealed very little in the way of promising news. Mercer went over to a seat and looked out the window. Peering down into the forest, he wondered if they would ever find the remains of the ship or the gold.

The leaves of the trees seemed to blanket the surrounding area in a sea of green which vanished off into the horizon. The mystery of this place had enthralled him and he found himself growing anxious at the thought of never finding the gold. It wasn’t out of greed that he sought the treasure, but instead for the reason he knew what Vallejos would do with it if he came into possession of it. The treasure belonged in the hands of someone who would handle it responsibly, and not in the hands of a sadistic madman, he thought.

The day had been filled with tedious flyovers of the area trying to locate any mass large enough underground that could be what they were looking for. The gravimeter’s strength to penetrate the earth’s crust was an important part of the role in its detection devices, but the mirror array could only scan an area about fifty yards wide at a time. This meant that numerous paths would need to be crossed in an attempt to correctly identify a source.

Following the direction the volcanic blast would have taken, the flight path had taken them just about a mile and a half away from where the riverbed originally laid. With no sign they were any closer to finding what they were searching for, Mercer and Vigil were beginning to grow restless. Hunt, on the other hand, showed no sign of wavering in his determination to find the ship and the lost treasure.

Mercer joined him near the gravimeter. “What do you think, Colonel?”

“I think we just need to continue being patient. The gold is out there and we will find it.”

Vigil stood up to stretch his arms and legs. “Sir, with all due respect, it may be out there, but it could be scattered over five miles of jungle. That ship was probably shattered into a million pieces when the blast hit it.”

Hunt replied, “Sometimes a little faith is needed, Pat. I need to go have a little chat with the pilot. I‘ll be right back”

Vigil knew that if the lost gold was to be found, then Hunt was the man who could do it. There had yet to be a challenge the spunky Colonel backed down from or couldn’t accomplish, and there was no reason to start doubting that perseverance now. He sat back down, popped his feet up on the table and closed his eyes to get a little rest while the search continued. By the time Hunt returned from the cockpit, he was sound asleep and snoring.

Mercer was looking over the gravimeter's readings. “He’s like a bear during hibernation, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think bears snore that loud,” retorted Hunt.

“What did the pilot say?”

“I told him we would do a few more passes and then call it a day. We can come back out first thing in the morning. It’s not like the gold is going anywhere.”

After a few more turns, the pilot made preparations to return to the airstrip. Just as they were banking to head back, something caught Mercer’s eye. The gravimeter’s readings suddenly picked something up. It didn’t look like much, but it was more than they had seen all day. He called Hunt over to take a look.