David Leadbeater: Caribbean Gold

Russo capitulated with a gesture. Alicia held up the map before her eyes. “Caitlyn, can you get a picture of the Panama coastline up on that screen?”

“Don’t take that sketch as gospel,” Crouch said. “My memory may be bordering on eidetic but it’s not picture perfect by any means.”

“Am I being stupid?” Healey asked, rather dangerously, as Caitlyn and Alicia compared the coastlines. “But why are we just assuming these are treasure maps? Because some diver said so? I mean, how lucky would it be to find these particular maps as they’re searching all five wrecks?”

“You’re suggesting they’re fakes?” Crouch asked him. “Well, anything is possible. But don’t be too cynical. Many chests have been brought up from the depths and they have some kind of radar that can identify objects. It’s believed there could be thousands of bottles of rum on those ships. The real Captain Morgan rum. How cool is that?”

“So they aren’t fakes?” Healey looked confused.

“My gut says not, my head says faint possibility. But I’ve been running with my gut for years.”

“And in any case we’ll soon find out,” Alicia said. “This could very well be the right coastline.”

“It could also be a hundred others.” Russo peered over, playing devil’s advocate.

“Just read the next sentence,” Crouch said quietly.

“Uh?” Alicia looked over to the map’s margin. “The Spaniards were between the devil and the deep blue sea, three forts down and we were in hot pursuit. That place was a rich picking and we used it as our port for as long as we pleased.”

Crouch nodded. “I can’t honestly recall the rest but the next paragraph I do remember talks about going ‘inland with our blood money. ’ ”

“And that leads us to this Porto Bello how?” Russo asked.

“The three forts,” Caitlyn said immediately. “Morgan and his men destroyed them on the way into the town.”

“So you knew all along?” Alicia clucked a little. “Why not tell us straight away?”

Crouch took a seat. “Because I prefer you question my reasoning, come at it a different way. If we all end up with the same answer then it has to be the right one. Besides, I only knew when Caitlyn described the battle for Porto Bello.”

“I guess it could be possible that each site holds a further clue,” Caitlyn added. “Or a portion of the loot.

“Only one way to find out,” Crouch said, holding up a bottle of water in salute.

“Not exactly the drink I’d have chosen.” Alicia placed the maps in a small pile. “But it’ll do. Are we doing this then?”

“Oh yeah,” Crouch said. “If only to catch Jensen and put that bastard out of business.”

Caitlyn pulled a new website up on her computer. “Panama, here we come.”

Alicia soon realized that modern Porto Bello lacked a little of the majesty of old. Today an incredibly laid-back fishing village it was almost impossible to imagine it as the greatest Spanish port in the region. Peruvian gold, Spanish doubloons, unimagined riches from the Far East all came through this local capital, destined for Spain She knew that, despite all the attacks through the years, crumbled ruins of the old fortresses still stood among newer homes and dwellings, all adding an atmospheric ambiance to the little place. When the team arrived by boat, the residents took little notice of them.

People are always arriving by boat, their pilot told them. They don’t linger long. Walk through the ruins and they’re gone. Whatever they are looking for, they don’t find it here.

Alicia led the way up the pebbly beach, knowing the others had her back and keeping a sharp eye open for Jensen and his cronies. No telling where they might pop up next. They had traveled over from Jamaica and they had come prepared. Alicia still hated boat travel, but fancied she should try to get used to it pretty soon since they were following a pirate around the Caribbean. Hours later though, she still hated it.

“Should’ve taken a plane,” she muttered at Crouch.

“Too visible,” he said. “We don’t know where Jensen is and who he knows.”

Alicia saw the logic, but hated the consequences. “Yeah, yeah.”

Healey hitched his backpack a little tighter. Discreet boat travel also meant the team could bring weapons and other questionable equipment along with tents and sleeping bags, fodder, water, and much more. All of them wore heavy packs and sweated under the midday sun.

“Let’s get out of this heat,” Crouch said. “We’re tourists. Let’s tour.”

With the blue waters at their backs and acres of greenery before them, the five found a rutted track and started to follow it. Crouch had a map of the area and produced it as they walked. Alicia wiped sweat from her brow and peered over.

“Where we headed?”

“Just trying to get our bearings. The old main port should be a few miles this way.”

They trekked for a while, saying nothing. Healey and Russo ranged a little inland and watched the rear whilst Crouch and Alicia kept eyes open to the front. All they saw were a few local residents tending a few small fields or fishing offshore. Nobody looked up.

“Steady away,” Alicia said. “Nobody in anyone’s business. I think I could retire somewhere like this.”

Crouch looked over. “Retire? Am I talking to the real Alicia Myles?”

“I don’t mean tomorrow, for fuck’s sake,” she said, confirming that he was. “I mean… eventually.”

“Still… you seem different than when last I saw you.”

Alicia studied the glittering tops of the steady waves. “I’m trying, Michael. No more running into the sunset. No more moving away after every nasty little incident.”

“You putting down roots?” He sounded a little disbelieving.

“Maybe. Let me put it this way — you’ve very lucky I came. Even more so than you thought.” Of course she couldn’t yet mention her other reason for coming. She needed privacy for that.

“Good.” Crouch nodded. “Good. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Oh, I’m sure there will be.”

A long, green and furrowed track ran ahead until they could see the ruins of the old fort at the harbor. It wasn’t much to look at now, but hundreds of years ago no doubt presented an imposing sight. The spectacle of tourists wandering around it now, their white hats pulled low and pink limbs turning even redder, doused even Crouch’s enthusiasm for the hunt.

“So that’s the harbor where Morgan eventually docked his ships?” Alicia shielded her eyes.

“Yep,” Crouch said. “We’re finally here. Let’s see what it has to offer.”

An uneventful hour passed as the team kicked around the ruins of the old fort and worked out some points of reference.

“One thing’s for sure,” Caitlyn said as she studied some nearby trees. “If Jensen’s around we won’t miss him.”

Very few people passed as the team worked and the sun descended well past its zenith. Alicia spent some time studying the quiet, gleaming waters and tried to imagine what it must have been like to see several pirate ships anchored out there as their brethren scrambled to shore. Terror. Hatred. A sense of ruin. Invaders always left devastation in their wake.

Crouch called them all together and Alicia took the opportunity to eat. The maps appeared once more and Crouch drew their attention to the writing he’d memorized.

“Carried away it was, inland with our blood money. The channel behind, the forest ahead. We returned soon enough. Below decks among timber spars it was sent, but the trees they tell a story all their own. Our Black Book, buried there. As the crow flies, through two stands and at the foot of the hill.”