Clive Cussler - Lost Empire

“I think we’re near the road,” he whispered to Remi.

“That’s probably how they found us-they found the Rover. Have you seen you know who?”

“No, but he’s out there.”

Walking at the head of the line, Tolotra turned around and barked, “No talking!” He held up his crossed fingers as if to lend gravity to the order. Sam returned the gesture.

Remi murmured, “How nice. You made a friend.” “Hope I don’t have to shoot him.”

“With what? An invisible rubber-band gun?”

“No, my Webley,” Sam grumbled, his eyes fixed on Tolotra. “After I take it away from him.”

“No talking!”

SAM’S GUESS ABOUT their location was right. A few minutes later Tolotra reached an intersection of trails and turned right. The grade increased until they were pulling themselves up using exposed roots and low-hanging branches. The terrain had no effect on the bandits’ discipline, however; whenever Sam and Remi looked around, they found themselves staring down at least two rifle muzzles.

The trail leveled out and reached a set of natural root steps in the hillside. Sam and Remi reached the top and found themselves standing on a gravel road. A quarter mile to the south, a rusted white Chevy pickup truck sat on the shoulder; ahead of it, Sam and Remi’s Range Rover. And looming above both, the Three Wise Men.“Where now?” Sam asked Tolotra.

He and Remi were under no illusions. While their hands being unbound was an advantage, this was not a Hollywood movie. Without a major distraction, any attempt to get the jump on any of these rebels would not only fail but likely end with them dying. Their chances would only worsen once they were put in vehicles.“Secret place,” Tolotra replied.

“You want ransom, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know we’re worth anything?”

Tolotra considered this for a moment as though sorting through his grasp of English. “Packs, clothes, camera-all expensive. Car expensive.”

“It’s a rental,” Remi said.

“Eh?” “Nothing.”

Sam, still trusting his hunch that the Kid hadn’t abandoned them, had been surreptitiously scanning their surroundings. Now, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed movement on the slope above the road. He saw a flash of silvery hair appear between a pair of boulders.Sam said, “We have gold.”

This had the desired effect. Those in the group that hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation turned to face Sam. Tolotra took a step closer.

“Gold? Where? How much?”

The Kid’s head popped up from behind the boulder. He caught Sam’s eye, winked, pointed toward the vehicles down the road, then ducked from view again.

Sam looked to Remi. Her expression told him she’d seen the Kid. Sam said, “How much do you think, Remi?”

“I don’t know . . . a couple dozen double eagle coins.”

This was enough for Tolotra. Eyes narrowed, he nodded sagely. “Where?”

“Our hotel in Antananarivo.”

“You give us coins, you go free.”

This was a lie, Sam assumed, but it was a step in the right direction. Even if the worst happened and the Kid was unable to intervene here, he and Remi would fare much better moving toward civilization than away from it. No doubt Tolotra’s “secret place” was good enough to keep them hidden from government forces. If, however, Tolotra’s discretion overwhelmed his greed en route to Antananarivo, Sam and Remi would find themselves back to square one.“We go now,” Tolotra announced.

Again the group fell into formation with Sam and Remi in the middle. Using their peripheral vision, Sam and Remi kept watch for the Kid, but there was no sign of him. Whatever the old truffle hunter had planned, they would have to be ready to react and improvise.THEY DREW EVEN WITH the Chevy pickup truck and stopped. Sam and Remi’s packs were tossed into the bed.

Sam whispered to Remi, “Stay sharp.”

Tolotra and four of the others clustered around the tailgate and began conversing. The sixth man stood ten feet behind Sam and Remi, his rifle trained on their lower backs. Based on Tolotra’s gestures, Sam assumed they were trying to decide how best to execute the drive into Antananarivo-essentially, the enemy’s capital.

Remi was the first to realize the Kid’s plan was unfolding. With her eyes, she guided Sam’s gaze over the roof of the Chevy and up the middle Wise Man to the top. At first Sam saw nothing, and then, almost imperceptibly, a barrel-sized boulder began inching toward the edge.Sam whispered, “When I move, go for the Range Rover.”

Tolotra turned and glared at Sam. Sam shrugged and smiled apologetically.

Remi whispered, “Okay.”

Atop the Wise Man, the boulder had reached the edge, where it stopped. Sam and Remi took a deep breath. Waited. The boulder wiggled forward, paused momentarily, then tipped over the edge and started falling. The pillar’s face was a slope, angled slightly backward, and smooth save some bumps near the bottom. The combination of the face, gravity, and the boulder’s kinetic friction kept it adhered to the face. The engineer in Sam knew that would end as soon as the boulder hit its first bump, at which point the boulder would become a stone artillery shell.

Knowing no Malagasy, Sam did what he hoped would cause the most panic: He let out a distinctly un-macho, high-pitched scream, pointed at the boulder, and shouted, “Boulder!”

In unison, Tolotra and his men glanced up. Lacking the advantage of the foreknowledge Sam and Remi had, everyone froze and stared in awe. Sam, having kept his eye on Tolotra for most of the hike and having rehearsed his actions, took two leaping steps forward, heel-kicked Tolotra in the back of the knee, and, as he fell, jerked the Webley-Fosbury from his waistband.

Behind him, Remi’s guard screamed something that Sam assumed was “Stop!,” which he further assumed would be followed by the guard drawing a bead on the fleeing Remi. Sam never gave him the chance. With the Webley now free, Sam latched his left hand onto Tolotra’s collar and pistol-whipped him in the side of the head. Tolotra grunted and went limp.

Sam spun on one heel and dropped to his knees, putting Tolotra between him and four other men, two of whom were backing across the road, the other two scrambling around to the Chevy’s opposite side. Sam’s spin naturally brought the Webley around to point in the general direction of Remi’s guard. As Sam had feared, the man was jerking the rifle up to his shoulder, the barrel tracking Remi as she sprinted toward the Range Rover.

Sam fired once, hitting the man on the sternum. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the man dropped straight down, dead. Sam wrapped his left forearm around Tolotra’s throat, pulled him tighter, then shifted his aim toward the two rebels backing across the road. Both had their rifles trained on Sam, obviously trying to decide whether to risk the shot. Sam shifted the Webley’s sights from one man to the next. On the other side of the truck, he could hear the other two men moving through the high grass along the shoulder.Boom. The ground shuddered, followed by the snapping of limbs. Another shudder, like a giant was on the march. Sam felt it in his belly.

Remi shouted, “Boulder’s bouncing!”

“Where!”

“Coming your way!”

Boom. Closer this time.

On the other side of the truck the two rebels shouted.

“They’re running!” Remi called.

The two in front of Sam did the same, turning and sprinting back down the road.

Boom.

“Hold tight, Sam! It’s almost on you! Three . . . two . . . one . . .” Sam curled into a ball. Above his head there came the wrenching of steel. Glass shattered. He felt the Chevy lurch to the side, shoving him and Tolotra over the gravel. A shadow passed overhead. Boom. The boulder struck the far side of the road, bounced once, then disappeared over the shoulder, bulldozing trees as it went. After another ten seconds the sound stopped. Sam looked up, glanced around.