The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel (11 page)

chapter
eighteen

The sleek,
472-foot-long luxury liner floated on a glassy sea. Custom built by German
yacht manufacturer Peters
Schiffbau
, the six level
ship
cruised along at 14 knots, driven by its 13,400
horsepower engines. Its owner, Johan
Kristoph
,
frantically paced the length of the meeting room aboard his ship while
Rheingold Gerhardt, his assistant, watched in quiet amusement. A wealthy
industrialist, who had amassed his great fortune in the energy business,
Kristoph
was a man accustomed to getting his way. A German
energy mogul, who was CEO and founder of
Heimat
Energie
, he had built his empire on his ability to always
stay one step ahead of his competition. This ability had allowed him to become
one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the world. With this wealth and
power, also came influence. Many was the time when
Heimat
Energie
, facing stiff competition from another large
firm bidding for the same project, benefited from
Kristoph’s
ability to wield his influence to guide the transaction in his own favor.
Blackmail, extortion, bribery were all terms
Kristoph’s
competitors had used in describing his tactics, but he simply dismissed the
slings as sour grapes from lesser foes. It had been many years since he had
lost a business transaction to another man, but that had all changed the day he
met Francis
Dumond
.

The
two men’s companies were competing on a large government energy contract to
supply power in Finland. Nuclear power accounted for almost 26 percent of
Finland’s electricity generation, and lacking the natural resources that most
of the world uses to generate electricity, the country would either have to
build a new reactor or import resources.
Kristoph
had
used his contacts to discover the details of most of the competing proposals
and felt very confident that his company would win the contract to build a new
nuclear power plant. The only proposal he hadn’t been able to view, was from a
large French firm,
Areva
, which had also submitted a
proposal to build a reactor in southwest Finland. Much to his embarrassment,
the public power consortium
Teollisuuden
Voima
(TVO) awarded the contract to
Areva
.
Stunned and angry,
Kristoph
demanded to know why the
consortium had chosen
Areva
over his own firm. He
would never forget the reply.
Dumond
, speaking
instead of the consortium members, simply stated, “My offer was better than
yours.” It was the way he had said it and the grin that slowly spread over his
face. He was clearly mocking
Kristoph
, and no one
mocked
Kristoph
.

On
that day, he had sworn his revenge on
Dumond
. Revenge
at all costs.

Kristoph’s
thirst for retribution
consumed him, but he realized that getting his vengeance would be difficult. A
series of events had to align in just the right manner to allow him the
opportunity to extract his retribution on the Frenchman. Finally, after years
of waiting, the perfect opportunity had arisen. When
Dumond
had brought Dr. Randall’s discovery to their secretive group, The Association,
Kristoph
knew at once that he would finally have his
chance. Per
Dumond
, Randall had discovered an ancient
power source that would transform the landscape of energy for generations.
Seeing this as both a threat and an opportunity for The Association,
Dumond
had devised a plan to provide funding for the
professor and keep tabs on his progress. He had brought the concept to the
group, having put the plan into play prior to their approval.

The
planning and early stages of executing the plan were unbearable. The Frenchman
was just so damn smug about everything. It didn’t help that the rest of the
group—titans of industry, but not energy people—followed
Dumond’s
lead like a bunch of lapdogs. Not once did anyone
else in the group consider
Kristoph’s
opinions or
dissentions, even though he had many more years of experience in the energy
field then his counterpart. Thankfully for
Kristoph
,
he had the benefit of his associate, Gerhardt, and Gerhardt’s reminders that he
needed to stay focused on the prize. His plan was simple.
Kristoph
had found an informant inside of
Dumond’s
team, who
would keep a watchful eye on Dr. Randall’s progress. When the time was right,
the informant would notify
Kristoph
, who would swoop
in and steal the power source for
himself
.

Keeping
quiet had not been easy, and
Kristoph
had been forced
to bite his tongue on many occasions, just to keep the plan moving forward. He
had had to remind himself that there were two prizes to be gained from his
plan. First, of course, was revenge. That went without saying. Second, was the
possibility of possessing a new, endless power supply,
one
that no one else possessed or could ever rival. Anyone who controlled this
technology would wield unlimited power. It wasn’t until the group had met on
several occasions, and
Kristoph
had learned more
details, that he had been able to develop his own scheme and put it into
action. While the rest of the group was satisfied to follow the French pig, and
take whatever scraps he threw their way,
Kristoph
had
decided that he could control the power source on his own and deal a crippling
blow to
Dumond
in the process.

Dumond
had tried his best to conceal
certain pieces of his plan from the group, but
Kristoph
was a resourceful businessman and had learned details about the second
expedition to the temple: the one led by Randall’s daughter. He saw the
opportunity at once and wasted no time in acting. He had been able to convince
a young interpreter to serve as his informant.
Kristoph
was amazed at how little he had to promise in order to gain the girl’s
allegiance. What he had agreed to pay her was less than he spent on brandy and
cigars in a year. Not that he had intended to pay her—why spend money on
a frail, useless woman, when he could dispose of her with a single bullet?

Of
course, this would no longer be necessary because of that damn
Dumond
! How could he have gotten the upper hand again?
Kristoph
had held the element of surprise, and his plan had
been working flawlessly until that asshole,
Ackers
,
came along and ruined it. He would make sure to repay
Ackers
for the grief he was suffering when this was over.
Kristoph
pounded the table in anger.

“We
have Dr. Randall. The men are bringing him to us as we speak,” Gerhardt said.
He could see
Kristoph
getting worked up again.

“Well,
where in the hell are they, then?”

“Patience,
Kristoph
. Captain Sauder updated us a few minutes
ago. Their ETA is seven minutes.”

“Until
Randall is standing here, in this room, right in front of me,”
Kristoph
said, pointing to the ground at his feet, “I will
not be patient or satisfied!”

Gerhardt
sighed and nodded, quietly.

Shortly,
the two men heard the familiar
whoosh,
whoosh, whoosh
of the helicopter’s blades. Randall had finally arrived.
Kristoph
stood at the sound of the helicopter, and began to
pace impatiently again, stopping to check his watch every few seconds. This
would be the turning point in his relationship with
Dumond
.
Without fanfare, the doors to the deck opened and Captain Sauder and his men
brought the prize to his feet.
Kristoph
studied
Randall. He was medium height and lean and appeared to be in his late forties
or early fifties. So this was the man whose research would change the destiny
of the world?

“Who
are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Randall demanded.

“I
don’t have your daughter,”
Kristoph
responded.

“Then
where is she?”

As
he spoke, Randall moved closer to
Kristoph
as if
trying to menace him. A quick jerk on his handcuffs from Captain Sauder checked
him, the steel of the cuffs biting into his skin. The Captain also struck him
with the butt of his Colt AR15, causing Randall to stagger and fall to his
knees.
Kristoph
motioned for his prisoner to be
lifted to his feet again.

“Let
me explain something to you, Professor. I will ask the questions, and you will
do exactly as I say, or I will personally see to it that you meet a slow and
painful death. Maybe I will even let the good Captain and his men have some
enjoyment with you before we kill you.”

Randall
turned to see a smile creep over the face of the Captain at this comment.

“How
far was the underground city from the location where Captain Sauder and his men
found you?”

“I’m
not sure.”

“What
do you mean, you’re not sure?”

“I
haven’t actually found the city.”

Kristoph
let out a long sigh. He was losing
his patience. “Professor, perhaps you need something to help jog your memory.”
The Captain dealt Randall another blow to the head. Randall fell to his knees
once more and was again jerked to his feet.

“I
hope we have an understanding now,”
Kristoph
sneered.

Randall
scanned the room before turning his attention to
Kristoph
.

“I
was in the underground cavern, jumped across a chasm, hit my head and blacked
out. I woke up some time later with this lump on my head.” Randall pointed to
the bloody bump for emphasis. “When I tried to jump back across, I didn’t make
it. I was hanging over the ledge, and about to drop, when your men found me.”

Kristoph
shifted his gaze to his Captain, who
was nodding his head in agreement.

Kristoph
was stupefied. “Captain.” He
gestured to the soldier, who replied by pushing the gun harder against their
captive’s head. Randall felt the cold, hard steel barrel press into the back of
his neck. “You’ll have to do better than that Professor.”

“I
know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.”

Kristoph
brought his face within inches of
Randall’s.

“You
are going to take us back to the caverns and show us what you found. If you try
to escape, I will kill you and then hunt down your daughter and your associates
and kill them as well. Do you understand me?”

All
Randall could do was nod to his captor.

“But
first, we need to make another stop. Captain, prepare your men, you’re leaving
shortly.”

Chapter
nineteen

The sleek, dark helicopter raced
over the glassy, blue ocean, heading straight for the
jungle
lined
coast. Through his window, Randall watched as they passed from the
water onto the land. The aquamarine ocean gave way to dense green brush and
trees. Despite his predicament, Randall couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty
of the Peruvian countryside. The scenery beneath him was the stuff of travel
brochures. Lush, green jungle teaming with life with El
Misti
poking through the foliage, it’s weathered and pockmarked face standing in
stark contrast to the dense vegetation below. Randall’s mood soured quickly as
he remembered Sam and her predicament. Had he truly seen his daughter in
serious danger or was his imagination simply running wild? There was no way to
be sure. He sighed loudly, wondering if he would ever see Sam, again…or Mike or
Phil.

“We’re
approaching the landing zone. Everyone make sure you’re strapped in,” the pilot
announced.

Randall’s
inquisitive mind got the better of him as he wondered where they were going and
why.
Kristoph
had ignored his questions and had his
minions
escort Randall to the waiting chopper, which had been
sitting on a landing pad situated on the aft deck of the vessel. Randall had
watched
Kristoph
as he stood at the bridge of ship,
monitoring the chopper as it had taken off and flown low, skimming across the
water like a rock skipped by a small child on a day at the beach. During the
flight, Randall had tried to engage his captors in conversation but they had
simply sat quietly, faces etched as if in stone. They were all large, burly men
with serious expressions. All except for one man, who was tucked away in the
far corner of the
craft.
Looking conspicuously out of
place, he stood out amongst the former soldiers like a weed in a prize English
garden.

He was a mousy
looking man with bushy eyebrows hidden beneath heavy
black
rimmed
glasses. He was wearing a denim shirt and brown trousers with
brand new heavy hiking boots that looked like they had just come out of the
box. Randall was certain that if he had seen the man in his natural habitat, he
would have been wearing a sport coat with patches on the elbows sitting amidst
a large stack of ancient books. Academics tend to have a certain stereotypical
look, and although Randall didn’t fit the part, this other man surely did. He
made a mental note to strike up a conversation once they landed, if he could get
close enough to speak.

The pilot eased
the Bell helicopter onto a soft patch of grassy earth and landed with a soft
thud. The wind from the blades brushed the tall grass away from the chopper,
causing it to sway rhythmically as they landed. A mercenary slid the side hatch
open and hopped to the ground, crouching to avoid the still rotating blades of
the copter. One by one they disembarked from the craft and gathered at the edge
of the clearing.

“Professor
Richter, you’ll lead the way. Keller, you escort him and keep him safe. Ochoa,
you and Dodd will guard Randall. Make sure he doesn’t get any ideas of
disappearing into the jungle,” Captain Sauder said to his men, glaring at
Randall to emphasize his point.

“Wouldn’t dream
of it Captain,” Randall replied, smiling.

“Move out!”
Sauder growled.

The small group
moved quietly through the underbrush on a path that looked like it had been
recently traveled upon. Covered by dense foliage draped above, the path was
concealed by the jungle, invisible to prying eyes peering from above. Randall
watched as Professor Richter led the group, stopping occasionally to stare a
piece of paper he clutched in his left hand, while wiping his brow with a cloth
in his right hand. Randall could tell that the Professor was clearly out of his
element and reeked of self-doubt and worry. He strode up next to Richter.

“Is there a
problem?” Randall asked.

“No, there’s no
problem. It’s just this damn humidity,” Richter answered.

“It’s the time
of year. This is the most humid period in the rainforest. Normally we wait to
do our fieldwork in the cooler months,” Randall said reassuringly.

“You’ve been in
the jungle before?”

“Yes, many
times. My research has taken me to Peru on multiple occasions over the years.
It’s beautiful but the weather can make the trek difficult. There are so many
ruins in this area of the world, some we have yet to discover. How about you?”

“No, I’ve never
been to these jungles before. I’m not an outdoorsy person. I enjoy the comforts
of my study or the library. This isn’t my cup of tea. As you can see, this heat
is really getting to me.”

“Don’t feel too
badly, it’s hard on everyone, even these guys,” Randall said, jerking his thumb
in the direction of
Kristoph’s
men. “They may do a
better job of hiding it, but they’re struggling with the humidity just as much
as you and I.”

Richter cast an
eye at Captain Sauder who simply glared back at him. Richter quickly turned
away.

“If you say so
Dr. Randall.”

“Call me Nick.”

“Nick, I’m
Kraus,” Richter said, extending his hand. The two men shook hands, Randall
smiling broadly at Richter.

“Break up the
meeting and keep moving!” Sauder growled.

Richter jumped
at the sound of the Captain’s deep voice. He scrambled further up the path.
Randall turned and stared at Sauder and shook his head. He jogged back to
Richter’s side.

“This path
looks well worn. I’m surprised to find such an open path through this jungle.
I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Randall observed.

“It traverses
several miles of the rainforest. In fact, it connects to another compound I saw
when I was here last time,” Richter replied.

“A compound?
In the middle of the jungle?
Do you mean ruins?”

“No, a modern
compound with several buildings, a helicopter and even a small port. I’m not
sure who built it. Must be a pharmaceutical company or some such thing. Whoever
constructed it, certainly had a lot of money.”

Randall nodded
in understanding.

The two men
continued walking along the jungle path with Richter occasionally dabbing his forehead
with his handkerchief.

“If you don’t
mind me asking, how did you end up working with our friends back there?”
Randall asked.

“You know how
tenuous funding can be. I was working at a small school in Maine called Bates
College. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“Of course,
it’s a great school.”

“My department
head had notified me our funding had been cut, and I was the professor with the
least tenure, so I was the odd man out. I’ve been in academics my entire adult
life and didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t teach. That’s when
I was approached by a woman named Catherine who worked for Mr.
Kristoph
. She told me that he was interested in my
work and was willing to make a large donation to the college if I would help
him with a project. I asked about the nature of the project, but Catherine reassured
me it would be simple for a man with my expertise. She was quite convincing,”
Richter said, blushing.

“I’m sure she
was.”

“Anyway, I
jumped at the chance to save my job, and now I find myself here in this
jungle.”

“What exactly
is this project you were hired for?”

“My specialty
is the ancient civilizations of the Sacred Valley. There’s a legend about
Ayar
Cachi
and the hidden
civilization that resides in the mountains not far from here. Have you heard
about it?

“I’ve heard
some things, but please go on.”

“As the story
goes, the tribe that lived outside of the mountain
were
descendants of a group expelled from the underground city of
Vilcabamba
. One of them was a woman who allegedly had
supernatural powers. According to the legend, she was able to sneak back to
Vilcabamba
and steal the top of
Ayar
Cachi’s
staff. When her tribe found out what she had
done, they buried her alive with the relic she stole. They placed the top of
the staff on a heavy gold chain and hung it around her neck in the belief that
its weight would hold her spirit down and trap her in her underground tomb for
eternity. Most people believe the story is just a fable to teach young members
of the tribe the evils of stealing, but I know the story is real.”

“How are you so
sure?”

“My thesis was
on this legend and during my research, I found this,” Richter removed a small
item from his jacket and handed it to Randall who continued walking as he
examined it. The item was wrapped in oilcloth to protect it. Randall gingerly
removed the cloth to reveal a small leather book. The cover was worn, but the
pages within the book were surprisingly well preserved. He flipped it open and
immediately recognized the writing. The characters were the same symbols he had
seen at
Paititi
in the tablet room.

“What is this
book?” Randall asked.

“It’s an
ancient text discovered by an archeologist near the Sacred Valley. He found it
inside a cave near the remains of several humans. He believed they were
outcasts who suffered from some sort of genetic mutation.”

“What sort of
mutation?”

“They were very
short, only four feet tall, and their skulls were huge in relation to their
body size. Here, take a look at this,” Richter said excitedly flipping the book
to a page marked by a deep red ribbon.

Randall stopped
walking, his eyes fixed on the
page which
showed a
carefully drawn golden medallion.

“Isn’t it
beautiful? I think I know where it is, and that’s why Mr.
Kristoph
hired me. We’re going there right now!” Richter said.

“Keep moving!”
Sauder shouted.

Randall resumed
walking. “You say you’ve been on this path before. Did you find where the
medallion was buried?” he asked.

“No, not yet.
That’s what makes this so exciting! We’re going to discover a previously
unknown tomb and be the first humans to see its contents since she was buried!”

Randall stole a
surreptitious glance at the mercenaries. They lagged behind him by several
yards, just outside of hearing range.

“Kraus, do you
know why Mr.
Kristoph
brought me here?” Randall
whispered.

A look passed
over Richter’s face as if he had just tasted a lemon for the first time.

“Of course,
you’re the language expert who can help us translate any writing on the tomb.
Although, I can read most Incan languages, I can’t read this one. That’s why we
need you.”

Randall glanced
over his shoulder again at Sauder who was still several paces back.

“I don’t think
you understand what’s happening here.
Kristoph
didn’t
hire me to help you. I’m being held captive. My research team and I were
exploring ruins nearby when someone tried to kill us. These men are hired
mercenaries who are looking for the medallion and
Vilcabamba
.
If we don’t find the medallion, we’re not leaving this jungle alive,” he
whispered.

Richter stopped
in his tracks and glared at Randall.

“What? No,
you’re wrong. I know they’re not the friendliest people, but Mr.
Kristoph
hired them to protect us, not kill us!” Richter
shouted.

“What are you
two talking about?” Sauder snarled, jogging up directly behind Randall. “I told
Kristoph
we couldn’t trust you,” he said, knocking
Randall to the ground with the butt of his gun.

Richter’s face
went ashen, and his eyes widened in fear.

“As for you, do
your job and find the goddamn tomb,” Sauder said, grabbing Richter by the
collar. All the academic could do was nod vigorously in agreement.

“Why don’t you
leave him alone,” Randall said, getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

“Shut the hell
up! I’m tired of babysitting both of you. All I need is one good reason to end
this here and now!”