Chapter Four
“Miss me?”
Elin listened to Hale’s smooth drawl through the line. It was wrong for one man to be so attractive. “There’s been a change of plans. Claude wants to leave first thing in the morning.”
A pause. “Why?”
“My guess? He was waiting for our long-haired friend that we handed over to the NIA to check in.” And now the man was missing, and it had spooked Claude. “He’s hired a private jet. He wants the team on it so we can take off at dawn. We’ll fly to Upington and from there, we take four-wheel-drives into the desert.”
She heard Hale mutter a curse. She could practically hear his thoughts turning over.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at the airport in a few hours,” he said.
“See you there.”
Elin packed up her bags and tried to grab a little sleep. Instead, she tossed and turned in her hotel bed. There was a mix of excitement, anticipation, and edginess in her veins that refused to let her relax. When her alarm went off, she had what she knew might be her last decent shower for a while, dressed, then snatched up her Glock and slipped it into the holster at the small of her back. She grabbed her duffel bag, and headed to check out.
As her taxi drove toward the airport, the sun was just starting to rise. The leafy trees and modern city buildings gave way to open spaces, and in the distance, the edges of the slums. Buildings cobbled together from whatever the residents could find—bricks, sheets of iron, wood. A reminder that not everyone got to enjoy Cape Town’s cosmopolitan flare.
As the rising sun turned the eastern horizon pink, Elin prayed that the mission would be a success. She wanted to bring down Silk Road, wanted to tell her mother that she’d finally dealt a blow to the group who’d destroyed their family. And she also wanted her promotion. It would be a…validation. Something that would make her broken marriage and failures in her personal life worth it.
They turned into the airport and she tightened her ponytail. She’d bring Silk Road down. She also wanted to protect the history out there, whatever it was they were hunting at Ophir. Silk Road didn’t revere history, they destroyed and captured, and sold it all for profit.
Elin’s mother had taught her the importance of history. Her earliest memories were of sitting at her mother’s feet as Victoria Alexander worked to restore a painting. Her mother was one of the best art restorers in the world, with steady, capable hands and a patience Elin had always been in awe of.
So Elin wasn’t going to let Silk Road pillage Ophir, and the mines of one of history’s most famous kings. She wouldn’t let them profit from King Solomon’s treasure…or kill for it, either.
She paid her taxi driver and stepped out of the car. After a short walk and a flash of her papers at a sleepy-looking woman at the desk in the tiny terminal for private flights, Elin stepped out onto the tarmac.
A large shape emerged from the shadows near the building. She tensed, then relaxed. Hale.
Somehow, he looked scruffier and more dangerous than when she’d seen him a few hours ago. But no less attractive. Her belly fluttered, and she stomped on the reaction. Now was not the time.
He hid it under the charm and the smiles, but she knew he was dangerous. She’d watched him fight—with power and ease. She knew that there were solid muscles under his faded shirt. There were so many facets to Hale Carter and she wasn’t exactly sure she’d worked him out yet.
“Morning,” she said.
He fell into step beside her, a duffel bag similar to hers over his shoulder, as well as a large, black, battered backpack. She felt the heat radiating off his body.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Like a baby,” she answered. “That’s a lot of stuff.”
“Never go on a mission without this.” He patted his backpack.
“What’s in there?”
“Climbing gear, prototype grappling gun, spare ammunition, and a few other little surprises I’ve put together.”
“A regular bag of tricks. Everything legal in there?”
His smile flashed white in the darkness. “I plead the fifth.”
“I don’t want to know, Carter.” As they neared the sleek jet on the tarmac, Elin spotted the small group waiting for them.
A man pushed forward. “Alex. I thought for once you might be late.”
Elin felt Hale looking at her but focused on Claude. “I’m never late. This is Carter.”
When she glanced at Hale, he had a hard look on his face. He looked like the perfect mercenary-for-hire.
Claude gave a little bow. “Bonjour. I’m Claude Renard. This is Sabine.” He motioned at the tall, lean woman lounging on the steps of the jet. She had a cloud of bright-red hair piled messily on top of her head.
The woman took her time running her gaze down Hale’s body. She shot him a lazy smile.
Elin didn’t like Sabine, and the feeling was mutual. They’d had several prickly interactions, and the woman had made it clear that Claude and their work were her territory. Elin hadn’t been able to find out anything about Sabine, not even her full name. But one thing was for certain, the woman wasn’t just Claude’s lover and right-hand woman…she was his bodyguard.
There were four others standing nearby. Three men and one woman who all screamed ex-military. Elin nodded at them. They were all part of Claude’s cell and she’d worked with them over the last few months. “Carter Jordan. Rex, Westcott, Thompson and Van Wyk.”
Hale lifted his chin but no one shook hands.
“We fly to Upington,” Claude said. “It’s the largest town on the Orange River to the north. I have vehicles and supplies organized.” He shifted. He rarely stood still, a nervous energy continuously radiating off him. “From there, we head into the desert.”
There were murmurs.
“And then we find what no one else has discovered.” A light ignited in his dark eyes. “The lost city of Ophir.” He let his gaze sweep over them all. “Let’s go.”
As the others headed up the steps, Claude’s gaze settled on Hale.
“Don’t mess up,” Claude said. “I dislike messes, and Sabine dislikes cleaning them up for me.”
“He’s good, Claude,” Elin said. “He’s good under fire, and he’s also good at fixing things.”
Claude shoved his hands in his pockets, his face turning considering. “Okay. But he screws up, it’s on you, Alex.” A sharp smile. “And neither of you will like the consequences.”
Elin shrugged, unconcerned. She’d seen him kill one man in a rage, and another with a cold, calculated, point-blank shot to the head. Claude was dangerous and unpredictable, and she knew it would pay not to underestimate him.
“No one is screwing up.” She strode up the steps, brushing past a smirking Sabine.
Elin ducked inside and moved toward the back of the jet. Large, plush armchairs in cream leather lined the interior. She sat down on one near the back.
A second later, Hale sat down beside her, crowding her. He was way too big. Her gaze lingered on where his T-shirt stretched over all those muscles.
She jerked her gaze forward and shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable. “Ready?”
“Yep.” He settled back in the chair and closed his eyes. “I’m always ready.”
Cocky. Soon, everyone was settled and the jet was hurtling down the runway. Elin looked out the window, anticipation in her blood, even as she kept her face composed.
Showtime.
***
Hale stared out the aircraft window and saw the river appear below.
The Orange River was the longest river in South Africa, and looked like a snake of green through the harsh red-brown landscape. A geometric patchwork of irrigated farm fields lined the river.
Elin shifted, her shoulder bumping into him. She huffed out a breath. “Personal space, Carter.”
He sat back in his seat, studying her face. Him being too close bothered her, huh? “Better get used to it, Alex. We’re going to be sharing very close quarters for the next few weeks.”
She looked out the window. They were approaching the town of Upington, nestled up against the northern side of the river.
“Farini came through here on his expedition,” Elin said quietly.
“I bet it’s a little different now.” Hale lifted his gaze to the desert beyond. He guessed that part was still the same. The green surrounding the river ended abruptly, and beyond that, it was shades of brown, beige, and red as far as the eye could see. A few hundred kilometers to the north was the border with Botswana, and not too far to the north west was Namibia. If they did manage to find Ophir and Solomon’s mines, it was anyone’s guess what country it might lie in.
“There was a picture of Farini and his son overlooking a waterfall he called the Hundred Falls,” she said. “It’s called Augrabies Falls, now. If you follow the river west about a hundred kilometers, you’ll reach it. The river drops over sixty meters into a magnificent gorge. Almost unchanged from when Farini sat beside it.”
Her perfume tickled his senses. Even after two hours on the plane, she still smelled fresh. “Let’s hope whatever Farini found out in the desert is still there, too.” He turned his head to take another look at the rest of the group.
He didn’t like the look of Claude. The man was edgy and jumpy, always running a hand through his hair, and jiggling a foot. Combine that with a lack of conscience, and it was never a good combination. The woman by his side, in contrast, rarely moved. Something about Sabine made Hale think of a snake lying in wait for prey. She was dangerous, no doubt about it.
The rest of the team members were clearly all ex-military. From the accents, three Americans and one South African.
Soon, the jet’s wheels touched down, and they pulled into Upington’s terminal. Hale grabbed his duffel bag and reached for Elin’s.
She shot him an arch look.
“Just being a gentleman,” he told her.
“Don’t.” She snatched her bag up herself.
Hale shook his head. Prickly, independent women had never really been his thing. He liked women who laughed a lot and enjoyed a good time. No strings, no mess, no fuss.
But for some reason, thorny and challenging was proving far too enticing.
As they shuffled off the plane, the warmth hit him. Summer had passed, but apparently someone had forgotten to tell the desert.
They followed Claude across the tarmac. The man was moving fast, Sabine’s long legs keeping pace beside him. He led them out to where four rugged four-wheel-drives were parked in a row at the curb in front of the terminal. The beige Land Rovers were kitted out for the desert, with gear stored on the roofs, including rooftop tents. Hale glanced in the back of one, and saw camping gear and large plastic bottles of water. He suspected the vehicles would all have long-range fuel tanks, as well.
“Sabine and I will take the lead vehicle,” Claude announced. He patted the side of the Land Rover. “She’s been specially outfitted just for me. Armor-plated, run-flat tires, reinforced suspension.”
Clearly the rest of them didn’t warrant the same protection. Hale hoped to hell they wouldn’t need it.
“Rex and Westcott, you take the next one,” Claude ordered with a wave. “Then Thompson and Van Wyk. Alex, you and your man bring up the rear.”
“What’s the rush?” Elin asked. “First you move up the timetable, and now we’re heading straight out?”
The man’s shoulders moved. Definitely twitchy.
“There are other players involved now. There’s been a leak about our trip to the Lost City. I need to get there first, and claim what’s mine.”
“Other players?” Hale pulled his duffel bag up higher on his shoulder.
“The fucking FBI and their Art Crime Team.” Claude shoved his hands on his hips, annoyance on his face. “And those Treasure Hunter Security bastards.”
Hale barely controlled his jerk. How the fuck did he know? “Heard those THS guys are do-gooder pains in the ass.”
“Oui,” Claude agreed. “You are correct, Carter. The Wards are often in our way.”
“But the FBI?” Hale said. “I thought they couldn’t operate outside the USA.”
“The prick that leads the Art Crime Team, an agent by the name of Burke, has la trique,” Claude gesticulated wildly, “a hard-on for our organization. He is a dog nipping at the heels of Silk Road.” Claude shook his head. “It is not like we are selling weapons or drugs.”
Hale barely resisted looking at Elin. No, they were just selling history off piece by piece, and killing anyone who got in their way.
Claude scowled. “There’s also someone else asking questions.”
Hale looked at Elin now. She was frowning. “Who?” he asked.
“We don’t know.” The Frenchman chopped a hand through the air. “My sources have just said that someone has been asking questions. Someone who is after my treasure.”
So there definitely was a treasure of some description. What the hell could it be?
Claude’s dark eyes flashed. “I don’t plan to let anyone beat me to Ophir. Now, let’s take a look at our route and get moving.”
Sabine handed Claude a map. He opened it up on the hood of the lead four-wheel-drive.
“Based off Farini’s lost journal, what he found in the desert was actually an outpost of Ophir.”
“Not the city itself?” Elin asked.
“Correct. And there is a clue at the outpost. A key that will lead us in the direction of the city and the mines.”
Hale decided to take a risk. “What’s this treasure? What’s so special about it?”
Claude paused for a second. “Something beyond value, Mr. Jordan. Something that belonged to King Solomon himself.” Claude folded up the map.
“King Solomon got treasure sent to him from the mines.” Hale frowned. “Why would he send something valuable back?”
Claude stuck the map under his arm. “To hide it. Now, enough questions. Let’s go.”
Hale loaded his duffel bag into the back of his and Elin’s Land Rover. As he slid into the driver’s seat, Elin climbed into the passenger seat. He glanced curiously at her.
“You going to argue with me about driving?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You’ll get bored of it eventually, and be begging me to drive later.”
God, she was something, and she was probably right. Ahead, the rest of the convoy pulled out. Hale set the Land Rover in gear and followed.
He watched Elin pull a small device out of her pocket, and start waving it around the dash, the console, the ceiling. He recognized the tech straight away. He had a few of these little babies himself. She was checking for bugs.
As they drove out of Upington, she climbed into the back to finish her check. Finally, she climbed back into the passenger seat. “Clean.”
“So, who do you think this mystery player is?”
“No idea. I’ll send the info to Alastair when I can. My tablet has a satellite connection. I’m more worried about how much they know about the FBI and THS being involved.”
Hale gripped the steering wheel, turning all the information over in his head. “What do you think about this treasure belonging to King Solomon?”
“It’s what I expected,” she said. “But I still don’t know what it could be, or why it’s so valuable.”
Hale stared ahead as the desert spread out ahead of them. “I think we have a whole lot of questions, and not very many answers.”