Truthseekers (17 page)

“A solitary hooked X,” said David… “Thank you José for showing us. I know this means what we are looking for is not here. But it was worth seeing this in the context of this great temple. Certainly some of the conquistador leaders would have been remnants of the Spanish Templar Knights. How did you know I was tracking these?”

José turned and answered looking at Abbey. “Your father said this symbol was important and you have much trouble from powerful men because you search for it. I know of this so I must show you. Now please… follow me. I know where there are two more.”

David’s eyebrow rose. Two more hooked Xs – maybe he had lucked out. Stopping at Cusco was a very wise move. They briskly left the temple and walked up the hill two blocks and into the main square. Cusco was stunning and Stacey and David took in its magnificence, from the Cusco sign many hundreds of feet high on the surrounding mountains to the back alleys they now walked on built by the Incas with precision and knowledge of stonework that has now been lost. Quaint old women hunched over, leading llamas and allowing photos for just $1, and from everywhere came the sound of panpipes. David remembered panpipes from his ancient past and they always felt soothing to him. There was something about the music of this part of the world that stirred his soul.

They entered the biggest church and bustled their way through a tour group from Korea. David wondered why Korean groups seemed to be all over the world at sacred sites. The church was very old, again built by the Spanish on top of a sacred Incan site. José led them to a very specific fresco. David only had to look at it for a few seconds before he saw the two hooked Xs.

“What does it say, José?” he said.

“It speaks of a journey set forth by their forefathers.” It was Abbey’s voice. David and Stacey looked at her and then looked at each other, smiling. Of course she read and spoke Spanish. David decided he would
act like he hadn’t really noticed.

“The sign says that their forefathers carried a great burden and this burden must be hidden from the devil. It says they know how important this burden is and they will settle here, in this New World, and pray for their ancestors and build a life of prayer and commitment to God and his son Jesus Christ,” Abbey finished.

“That is some clue,” said David. “This is not even on the Internet, but then again there were thousands of Xs at Angkor Wat and that wasn’t on the net either. José, thank you for showing us this. What we are looking for is most certainly not here, but this proves that certain leaders knew of the cause that we seek and they left this as a clue so we are not to stay here. This is not where it is.

“We now must leave as we had planned, and get to the USA. I am convinced more than ever that is where we will find what we need. Let’s get to the airport quickly. Rocko should have finished the work and we need to get back in the air. I’m getting a strange headache from this altitude.”

José had assumed they would and on return to his jeep and on the way back to the airport he handed them a flask of coca leaf tea. The tea, which includes the same leaves from the plant that makes cocaine, is very comforting and assists with relieving nausea and headaches experienced at very high altitudes.

Back at the airport, Rocko had finished a nice chat with a twenty-six year-old girl who worked in a café in Cusco. He had connected with her figuring that when all this was over they would need to drop the plane back and he could hook up with her for one of his gala afternoon Rocko dates. He would take her dancing, enjoy wines, a good meal and be totally charming as of course he was. He was in the bathroom and looking in the mirror, and winked at his Middle Eastern appearance crossed with Italian New York. Then he heard some noise outside. He went to window to see what was happening. Maybe the others had returned.

A couple of individuals had driven around the front of the Learjet but they weren’t taking any notice of it. They were, however, casing the
Gulfstream they had just alighted from. They drove off just as quickly.

In José’s jeep David’s phone buzzed. David certainly wasn’t expecting a phone to ring as the Eagle had kitted them all out with secure phones to go with their secure laptops.

“Hello,” he said.

“Dude I think we have company here at the airport. Someone’s sniffing around the Gulfstream,” Rocko blurted down the receiver.

David listened and related the information to José and the others. José turned the jeep around and headed back into town a little ways.

José was an old warhorse and was brilliant in counter intelligence. Like all Peruvians from the Andes he was kind of squat but was ruddy, hardened and streetwise. His balding head and stone eyes under furrowed brow suggested that here was a man who was not only wise – he had seen a lot in his life.

Just on thirty minutes later his jeep was entering the airport. In it he carried an automatic rifle. The two girls were completely redressed with big hats and sunglasses and David was in a Hawaiian shirt. José made his appearance more meek and mild. There were now signs on the jeep that said Cusco Sightseeing and to everyone it looked like a billionaire playboy out for some sightseeing with his two girlfriends.

Rocko was hidden inside and he was armed and ready. If the plan didn’t work this would be the new shootout at the OK Corral.

20

David and José had been told by Rocko that the group of adversaries had driven to a shelter beside a hangar just fifty metres clear from the Gulfstream. The main entrance would take the group right past the hidden group, where they would be clear targets. If José’s plan did not work, everything would be over for them. They were sitting ducks. Rocko had mentioned that the couple of individuals had now grown to five or six and in David’s mind there were certainly more at other strategic positions around the airport.

José had made a call to his buddies at the Customs Office and had organised to meet them right in front of the Learjet, on the blind side of the Gulfstream. The adversaries had not seen Rocko and he was lying flat on the floor of the Learjet with an assault rifle poking out
between seats. He could, however, not peel off any clear shot, so he knew if he jumped out he was likely to be picked off by a sniper before he got very far. It was the ultimate game of cat and mouse, yet in this game the mice were hiding their true identity.

Shortly an RV with two Customs officials drove down from the main building and past the position where the adversaries were positioned. The leader of the small contingent of adversaries waved his men to lie down. They were reasonably securely hidden and somewhat bewildered that the Customs officials drove past the Gulfstream and pulled up next to the Learjet. Both of them got out. Rocko had his weapon firmly on the male of the two. He wasn’t expecting trouble, yet you could never be sure.

At this point José’s jeep was through the airport gate and coming past the hangar. David and the girls spoke very loudly in their best American accents and David took a large swig from a half empty bottle of Jim Beam that they had picked up on the way, having poured some out.

The bewildered adversaries watched as the jeep stopped in front of the Learjet and three drunken and loud Americans got out, the two women clutching bags of shopping and souvenirs. The leader of the adversaries spat on the ground. How he hated Americans. He wished he could take them out as well.

In a very simple manoeuvre and sleight of hand José handed passports to the Customs officers who checked and stamped them and handed them back. It was so mundane, the adversaries had not even noticed the exchange of money in the passports and the fact that eight passports had been returned including the four new identities promised by the Eagle.

The drunks waved goodbye, the blonde woman in sunglasses and a big hat, hugging the tour guide and yelling ecstatically, “Viva Peru!” at the top of her voice in a southern drawl that made the leader of the adversaries wince. And then in an instant the three had boarded the plane, the officials had driven off in the RV, with more than a few months’ income in their pockets, and José was in the jeep starting it up.

To the absolute incredulity of the leader of the adversaries, José drove directly at them and stopped just in front of their position. He
literally got out of the jeep and started to relieve himself right in front of the hidden group. The Learjet fired up, with what appeared to be the American at the controls. This was too much for the leader of the adversaries and he broke his position at the rear of the hangar and yelled in Spanish at José.

“You arsehole. What are you doing?”

“Oh my god, Sir. I am so sorry,” José put on his best act of meekness. “I didn’t see you. I needed to relieve myself. That American made me drink beer. My wife will kill me.”

As the leader got near his weapon lowered. His scowl did not. He vaguely noticed the drunken girlfriend of the pilot plop down on his lap as the plane turned away from him.

“You are an idiot. You tour guides. He will crash that plane into Sacsayhuaman. You stupid people. Tell me arsehole. Where are the people on this plane, have you seen them?” He indicated towards the Gulfstream.

“I… I don’t know, Sir… They were not even here when I picked my lot up. Maybe they are at the temple,” offered José.

“Get lost. If I see you here again I will shoot you…. Imbecile.”

“Yes, Sir,” said José.

José turned and went back to his jeep. He pretended it wouldn’t start several times and just as the leader was almost smoking from the ears he started the jeep, waved a cheerful smile at the leader who humphed back and turned his car around. He saw the Learjet taking to the main runway at this point and heard the twin turbines power up to full power. He drove slowly enough to watch it roar past him on the runway, a blonde girl firmly in control smiling and blowing him kisses as it shot past and into the air.

Inside the plane Rocko had already found a well-stocked fridge and cracked Bollinger Champagne. In the co-pilot’s seat David hoped the rest of the journey would go as well.

The leader of the adversaries stayed there another four hours enduring passing rain and a deep wind chill that left him uncomfortably
cold in the high altitudes. Eventually he gave up, leaving two guards by the plane while he returned to town with the rest of the crew to search for David and his friends. He soon realised he didn’t need to.

At the gate of the airport he recognised two magnetic signs that said ‘Cusco sightseeing’ that were on the side of Jose’s jeep, lying propped right next to the gate. Slamming the brakes so hard his compatriot nearly broke his nose on the dashboard, the leader realised he had nothing he could report. He had been completely fooled. His prey had escaped right under his nose. He had not taken any notice of the second plane. He had no idea even what type it was, let alone the registration number on its tail and as to the tour guide; well, he would have had more chance recognising the guy’s genitals rather than his face as he had taken no notice of him either.

In the New York office Chant slammed down the phone and stared out at the Hudson River.

21

Shortly after dawn the next morning a Learjet 85 appeared on US radar over the Gulf of Mexico. It banked right, initially heading for Texas and then pulled into a small regional airport in Louisiana. It was literally running on fumes by this point but Abbey wasn’t at all concerned, even though she was down to less than 10% fuel. US Customs contacted the airfield owner who was known as ex-military, and through a quick despatch a US Immigration official, who often did these type of jobs, accepted the passports of four Peruvians into the country on tourist visas. The spokesperson for the group was a beautiful blonde Spanish lady who looked vaguely familiar to the official, who probably wished he could get to know her a lot more than stamping her passport.

With immigration on its way and a safe and complete entrance undisclosed into the USA the airport owner bade his farewells to Abbey, wished her father fond regards and left the four to finalise their next move.

“Stacey’s right, Rocko. I read her report. Those laptops of the Eagle’s sure are excellent. Stealthy and able to be used in the air effortlessly.” David addressed the group who were sitting in the fuselage of the Learjet.

“Hmmmn, not quite stealthy enough,” said Stacey “Whilst the laptops themselves can’t be traced, Mr Rizotto here…” She paused and Rocko rolled his eyes in a ‘what now?’ look. “Well he did compromise our entrance to Cusco by getting on his favourite chatroom and chatting up some girls telling them he was in town. Rocko… you could at least close the webpage down… The things you tell them… Oh my God!”

“What!” Rocko just looked at everyone and helped himself to some of the Champagne that he hadn’t consumed on the flight over.

“Rocko…. There’s a time and place for everything, buddy,” said David. “Can we just try and stay alive a little longer? You’ll have more chance if you’re not dead.”

The group chuckled as they did in these situations. Sure Rocko was thinking about his future and he put the group in danger, but no one was hurt and they were in the USA undetected.

“We need to split up,” said David. “Stacey has found a few things going on at once. In a small town near Lake Superior the most senior of the chiefs of the region is having a meeting and for the first time in twenty years he has invited the chief of the Hopis from New Mexico. My intuition is that I need to be there. These guys lived all over this continent and know what’s going on that they never disclose to any of the white Americans. I hope they love my best Kiwi accent…bro.”

“I’m sure they will love you David… who could not?” smiled Abbey.

Rocko nearly choked on his Champagne.

David continued, “We’ll take the Learjet after we gas it up and Abbey will come with me. Rocko you and Stacey are on commercial to New York.”

“Better be first class, dude.” Rocko downed his glass.

“No… we are on a budget Rocko and even more so; we don’t want you to stand out. But it’s time for you to take Stacey and get going. I know you like going home to party sometimes but Stacey has found your buddy Leon is cutting the tape at a new exhibition at the New York Museum tomorrow night. It seems weird to me, a bank of their stature getting behind an ancient civilizations display. I think you guys should rent some decent clothes and show up for it. Stacey’s got some tickets from a friend of hers at the Smithsonian who isn’t able to go. Keep a low profile, see who is there and check for any Xs on display. On second thoughts, stay out of trouble and look after Stacey. She will be our eyes and ears on the ground.”