Clive Cussler - The Solomon Curse

Simon removed his glasses and smoothed his hair. “They’re talking extradition.”

“You need to stop this dead, Simon. Whatever the cost.”

Simon nodded and sighed. “Which brings me to the next bit of housekeeping. This will be enormously expensive to defend. We’re talking millions. Many millions. I’ll need a substantial retainer to proceed. Say… two million Australian, within twenty-four hours?”

Grimes snorted. “That’s highway robbery!”

“How much is your life worth, Jeffrey? They want you as badly. And if they extradite…” He didn’t have to finish. “I’ll be battling this for years.”

“Fine.” Jeffrey gave him the combination of his safe. “There’s a little over three million in maple leafs and one-kilo bars in the safe. I should think that will suffice. How soon until you can get me bail?”

Simon stared at Grimes like he was mad. “You don’t understand, do you? There will be no bail. You’re to be transferred to solitary confinement and put on suicide watch. You’re considered to be not only a flight risk but also guilty of crimes against humanity, in addition to all the other charges.”

The air suddenly felt overheated and heavy. Grimes struggled to breathe as perspiration beaded his forehead. Simon didn’t seem to notice as he rattled off a few immediate requirements he’d need to address with Grimes’s board of directors. When Simon finished and stood, he seemed anxious to be rid of his client.

Grimes rose and shook hands with his attorney, his palm sweaty. “Simon. You have to get me out of this. Whatever it takes. I… I can’t spend my life in prison.”

Simon averted his gaze and nodded. “I’ll do my best, but you’ve really gone and done it this time, Jeffrey.”

The sound of the steel door closing behind the attorney echoed like the detonation of a bomb as Grimes glared at the walls. The entire episode had been surreal. A pulsing throb in his jaw radiated down his left arm as his sweating increased and he was trying to call out for help when his chest seemed to explode and he slipped out of the chair, gasping as his heart faltered, a chunk of plaque the size of a pencil eraser clogging one of the arteries.

By the time the medics arrived, Grimes’s body was already cooling, his sightless eyes staring at the ceiling in puzzled amazement and his handsome face frozen in an expression that could only be described as fear.

Remi eyed the impenetrable rushing of the waterfall and turned to Lazlo, who was standing between Sam and Leonid.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“Never more so.”

“But Nauru never said anything about going through a waterfall,” Sam said.

“Be that as it may, I’d bet money there’s a cave behind that water.”

Sam glanced at the puffs of clouds drifting across the sky, glowing white in the noon sun. “The Japanese may well have moved the crates, once they were in a nearby cave. Or the old man might have just been forgetful. We tend to remember the dramatic moments and forget the rest — and having your entire village slaughtered in front of you is certainly dramatic enough.”

“So how do we get around the water?” Remi asked.

Leonid pointed at the falls. “It looks like there are a few feet of rock that we can traverse over on the right side.”

“No time like the present,” Sam said, and led them toward the edge of the small pond the waterfall fed.

“Wouldn’t this be exactly the kind of place you’d expect to find crocodiles?” Lazlo asked as they moved along the spongy ground.

“Oh, I’d think they’d find only you,” Remi said.

“They’re saltwater, aren’t they?” Leonid asked.

“Technically, but they do seem to like coastal rivers and lakes, too.”

“That’s reassuring,” Lazlo muttered.

Sam grinned. “Relax, Lazlo. You only live once.”

“The problem is, rather more that you only die once, unless you’re a cat. Or a Fargo, apparently.”

They skirted the water and approached the waterfall, the roar increasing until it was practically deafening. Sam peered along the side of the solid white stream of water and nodded. “There could be something back there. Lazlo, care to do the honors?”

“I’d hoped you would, being a seasoned adventurer and all.”

“This is how you gain all that valuable experience, my friend.”

“Like pneumonia. Or hypothermia,” Remi added helpfully.

“Come on, Lazlo. Fame and fortune await,” Sam coaxed.

“Sometimes called crocodiles and snakes by the locals,” Leonid quipped.

Lazlo gave him a dark look and nodded. “Very well. Here goes nothing.”

He edged past Sam along the narrow strip of rock that framed the waterfall and moved toward the rushing white foam, the spray soaking him as he pressed himself flat against the rock face of the cliff and inched sideways until he was out of sight.

Remi checked her watch. “If he isn’t back in two days, we go in after him.”

“Unless something else comes up,” Sam agreed.

They didn’t have to wait long. Lazlo emerged, sopping but excited, from the waterfall’s edge.

“There’s a cave, all right. Come on, then,” he said.

“Any crates?” Remi asked.

“I didn’t do anything besides confirm that the cave’s there.”

Lazlo disappeared behind the waterfall and Remi followed him, glad her backpack was waterproof. Sam was next and Leonid last, a frown of distaste tugging the corners of his mouth as the water doused him.

They found themselves standing before a narrow gap five feet wide. The roar of the falls was amplified by the acoustics in the entry, making the sound almost unbearable. Remi unzipped her backpack and extracted two flashlights and Sam did the same, handing his to Leonid and Lazlo before taking one of Remi’s. “Lead on, Britannia!” he called out.

Lazlo turned to face the darkness and switched on his light, then took the first steps into the opening.

The narrow entry quickly widened and the floor sloped upward. Their flashlight beams played across the walls, and Lazlo was walking toward another gap at the far end when Sam grabbed his arm.

“Freeze.”

Lazlo did, and Sam pushed past him and crouched down, eyeing the floor. He directed his light at the wall, where there was a small cavity, and crept toward it while retrieving a Swiss Army knife from his back pocket.

“What is it?” Lazlo said.

“Booby trap. Probably no longer works, but no point in pushing our luck, right?”

“Can you disarm it?” Remi asked.

“Looks like a simple trip wire — so, yes. I just want to make sure there’s no spring that will detonate it if we cut the wire.” He paused, shining his light into the tight space, and then snipped the wire with a snap.

“Seems like we’re on the right track,” Leonid said.

Lazlo’s right eye twitched, and he brushed droplets from his brow with the back of his arm. “Good catch, old chap. I didn’t see it.”

“Maybe I should take point from here, just in case?” Sam suggested. Nobody objected, so he moved ahead to the opening directly in front of them. He stopped at the threshold and shined his light all around the rock edge, checking for more traps, and then turned to his companions. “There are a bunch of crates in there covered with dust and rot. We need to be careful, though, because any of the crates might be wired to blow. Don’t touch anything,” he warned. “And watch the floor. There might be more trip wires.”

“Brilliant,” Lazlo murmured.

“Let me do a quick recon while you stay out here,” Sam said, and, without waiting, took several steps into the cave toward the crates, his flashlight beam roaming over every inch of floor.