The Lost City by Rob Jones

The Lost City by Rob Jones

Author:Rob Jones [Jones, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-11-26T00:00:00+00:00


*

Kruger’s Sikorsky S76 swept though the valley at speed before slowing for its final approach over Machu Picchu. Saqqal rubbed his nose in an attempt to look casual as the South African flared the nose and brought the machine to a sudden, jolting hover, but the truth was he hated flying and was feeling nervous. “Are we landing now?” he asked.

Kruger ignored the question, but instead spoke into his headset. “When we hit the ground I want all men out of this chopper and fanning out, no fucking about.” He turned and gave Balta a sneer. “Any funny business from you, professor, and you’re going into that ravine, got it?”

Balta was unable to speak because of the gag, but he nodded his head to show he got it as Kruger continued to lower the chopper. In the citadel were the usual groups of tourists milling around taking selfies and appreciating the mountain air, but what had changed Kruger’s mood was the small group gathering around a Bell which was parked on some kind of plaza in the far north. “Bastards got here first.”

He lowered the collective and reduced the power, bringing the chopper down through the humid air and into the ruins of the citadel’s urban sector. Seconds later, the chopper’s rubber tires were gently pushing into the grass. Moments later a Huey Venom filled with the CGF rebels landed beside it.

“Go, go, go!” Kruger yelled, and unbuckled himself before pulling a submachine gun from beside his seat and climbing out. The gun was shouldered before his boots had hit the earth, and he watched critically as the men fanned out and took cover behind various broken-down walls.

“All right, General,” Kruger said. “You and the Professor here are to follow me.”

Not used to being spoken to in this way, Saqqal bristled but said nothing. The truth was he had come to Kruger because he needed him, and for now that meant keeping his mouth shut. He jumped out the chopper and followed the South African. Rajavi, Corzo and Jawad were a few paces behind them.

Settled in behind the Temple of the Sun, Kruger pulled a pair of binoculars to his eyes and surveyed the area for a few seconds. “Don’t want any nasty surprises.”

“Like what?” Jawad said.

“Like the way a cat leaves a shit behind the sofa, Professor.”

“I don’t understand.”

Saqqal sighed. “He means they might have left people up top to keep watch.”

A man in a blue t-shirt and wearing some kind of ID badge around his neck approached and began asking what they were doing. Kruger lowered his binoculars and flashed his submachine gun at the man. “Fuck off.”

The man saw the weapon and after looking up and seeing the other men he staggered backwards, almost tripping over one of the low walls running along the cultivation terraces.

“He’ll call the police,” Jawad said.

“Or army,” Saqqal added.

Kruger was unmoved. “And even by chopper it will take them forever and a day to get here. We’ll be in and out by then.



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