The Mayan Conspiracy by Graham Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

brought out the optimist in him—a quality he wasn’t sure he still possessed. He turned back to the bar and put his hand on the tumbler, tilting ittoward him until the ice swirled to the low point. He was fairly certain that the NRI’s crazy theory would be nothing but a gigantic bust, but what the hell, even proving that could be a great deal of fun.
    After leaving McCarter, Danielle returned to her hotel room, where the message light on her phone blinked silently in the darkness. A man named Medina had called; another name from Arnold Moore’s inexhaustible supply of contacts. Medina captained a small riverboat and it had been Moore’s intention to meet with him and secure the charter prior to leaving for Washington. But Medina had been delayed and Moore had left without getting the chance.
    Danielle dialed and a voice answered on the first ring. “Hello, Medina speaking.”
    “Señor Medina, this is Danielle Laidlaw. I work with Mr. Moore.”
    “Yes, hello,” Medina said. His English was heavily accented. “I was told to contact you. Señor Moore has gone back to the States, then?”
    “Yes,” she replied. “I’ll be your contact now.”
    “Okay, no problem,” the man said. “Señor Moore wanted to inspect the boat before we go out. Will you be wanting to see it?”
    “Yes, of course. When would be a good time to look it over?”
    “Tonight is okay,” he said.
    Danielle almost laughed; it was nearly midnight. “Tonight is not okay,” she said. “How about tomorrow, around noon?”
    “No good,” Medina said. “We go back out very early. Best to do it now.”
    Danielle had no desire to make a late-night trip to the waterfront, especially after what had been a long and grueling day. Before she answered, Medina made another suggestion. “Or we could do it in three days, when we return.”
    That wasn’t going to work. If the boat proved to be inadequate, she would be delayed further while they found a replacement. “It’ll have to be tonight, then.”
    “Okay,” he said. “Fine. We’re on the west side of the harbor, in the old section, beyond the Puerta Flutante. There are no numbers out there, but we are closest to the
dezenove:
pier nineteen. If you meet me there, I take you to the boat.”
    “I can be there in forty-five minutes,” she said. “Is that soon enough?”
    “Yes,” he said. “We’ll still be unloading then, so I’ll wait for you.”
    “Forty-five minutes,” she repeated. “I’ll see you then.”
    “
Buena
,” he said. “
Ciao
.”
    The dial tone returned.
    “
Ciao
,” Danielle muttered, unhappy at the options ahead of her.
    She walked to the balcony and looked out over the city. Manaus was gorgeous at night, with the city lights blazing. But the danger remained, lying out there hidden in the shadows. This trip to the waterfront would expose her to it. She thought of calling Medina back and canceling, but it would quickly reach Gibbs, and thatwould just give additional ammunition to her detractors.
    The hell with it, she was going. But proving yourself and being foolish were two different things; she would bring help. Verhoven or one of his men seemed a natural choice, but they were bunked down on the north side of the city near the airstrip they’d flown into, too far away to reach her in time. Besides, she’d barely met them and didn’t feel any level of trust there yet. Another face came to mind.
    She grabbed her cell phone and dialed. An American voice answered.
    “Hawker, this is Danielle. How fast can you be at the hotel?”
    “Ten minutes,” he said. “Why? Is something wrong?”
    “Not yet,” she said, hoping that the status quo wouldn’t change. “But I have to meet with someone and I’m not interested in doing it alone.”
    “All right,” he said. “I’ll see you in the lobby.”
    Danielle hung up, took a last look at the city lights and walked back into her room. She changed into dark slacks and a black sweater, then opened the safe in