The Solomon Curse

“True, but you saw the chief’s attitude. I got the impression he didn’t like us much.”

“It’s infuriating. There’s a cave full of dead kids and these idiots don’t care.”

“Well, we’re the only ones that know about that right now, so we have information they don’t. I have a feeling that attitude will change in a hurry once we break the news.”

“It’s their job to have the right attitude now.”

“I agree. But there’s nothing we can do about it.” Sam studied Remi, who was holding her tablet, a satellite image of the waterfall area on the screen. “Since that didn’t go anywhere, what’s the word on the caves?”

Remi had been looking for alternatives to parking at the village and traversing the ground to the waterfall from there.

“I think I’ve found an old logging road that ends about a half mile from the waterfall. If it’s still passable, it should cut hours off the hike.”

“That’s great news. I’ve been worried about how Leonid is going to make it. For all his bluster, he’s only human and his leg took quite a beating.”

“We won’t know for sure that it’s viable till we get there, but it seems like our only alternative.”

The sat phone rang and Sam hurried to the table by the sliding glass doors, where it was charging. He punched the line to life. “Hello?”

“Did you hear the news?” Selma asked, her voice concerned.

“Which news is that, Selma?”

“Another assassination. This time, the Governor-General and one of the members of parliament.”

Sam froze, eyeing the darkening harbor. “Which member?”

“Orwen Manchester.”

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head, then opened them and turned toward Remi. “When?”

“It just came across the wire a few minutes ago.”

“What happened?”

“Car explosion. The rebels were quick to claim responsibility. Said that the puppet of colonial imperialism had been executed for the better of the islands, as would be all foreigners responsible for the nation’s subjugation. I quote, obviously.”

“Then Manchester’s dead?” Sam asked in a hushed voice.

Remi sat up on the bed, her eyes wide. “What? Let me talk to her.”

Sam handed her the phone as she stood and padded onto the terrace with bare feet.

“Tell me exactly what happened, Selma,” Remi said, her words dangerously calm. Selma recounted the news. When she was done, Remi was speechless.

“Are you all right?” Selma asked.

“Yes. I think so,” Remi said. “We just saw him. Not three hours ago. We were sitting only a few feet from him and now—”

“I’m sorry,” Selma said.

“Thanks. I wonder if he had family?”

“Doesn’t say on the news.”

“It’s . . . it’s just unbelievable.” She looked out over the water and her gaze drifted to the town. “This spells big trouble for civil unrest. I’ve seen enough of this place to know it’s going to blow wide open once word spreads. Manchester was a moderating force—a voice of reason. Without him—”

“You two should get out of there. Now,” Selma said. “While you still can.”

“We can’t, Selma. Not yet.” She took a few moments to collect her thoughts. “Any word on the missing children?” Remi had sent her an e-mail earlier detailing their discovery.

“I couldn’t find anything. There’s nothing on the Internet. Which doesn’t surprise me—Guadalcanal isn’t exactly a hotbed of tech sophistication. Even most of the businesses don’t have websites, so it’s still a few years behind everywhere else in that regard.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“You really should take some protective steps. If rioting starts—”

“I know. I’ll talk to Sam about it.”

“Call me if you need anything. And please . . . be careful.”

“I’ll pass the message along. Thanks, Selma.”

Remi hung up and handed the phone to Sam. “Selma’s worried. She thinks that the island could erupt in another bout of violence. I think she’s right.”

“So what do you want to do? Try to get to the airport and catch the first flight to anywhere? Make for the boat?”

Remi shook her head. “Would it kill us to spend the night on the Darwin? And then head for the caves at first light?”

“Not at all. In fact, it seems like a reasonable precaution, in light of past events. I’ll call Leonid and Lazlo and have them meet us in, what, fifteen minutes?”

“And I’ll call Des and let him know he’s going to have guests.”

Twenty minutes later, the Mitsubishi was rolling out of town, leaving Honiara to its fate. The Australian-led peacekeeping force was on high alert, as were the police, and a curfew had been put in place for the capital, effective within the hour. The authorities had learned a thing or two over the last few rounds with the rebels and were taking a zero-tolerance policy to any instigating by their sympathizers.

Once on the Darwin, they settled in for a fresh crab di

CHAPTER 45

It was barely light out when the Mitsubishi turned onto the logging road, which was overgrown and in poor repair but passable. An hour and a half later, the SUV ground to a halt at the end of the road, stopped in its tracks by a wall of dense jungle.

Sam held the GPS up in the morning sunlight and studied the screen. “Looks like we’re close. It’s a little over a half mile that way,” he said, pointing at the nearest peaks. “Think you can manage it, Leonid?”

“I’m a locomotive. A battering ram. Unstoppable,” the Russian said, his eyes red from a restless night at anchor.

“That’s good to hear,” Sam said. “Greg, you’ve got guard duty here.”

Greg had ridden out in order to watch the vehicle and ensure no harm came to it. He nodded once. Greg didn’t talk much, but he looked lethal with his weapons, a machete on his belt and one of the ship’s twelve-gauge flare guns in his hand, and they were confident that the Mitsubishi would be in good shape when they returned.

The waterfalls might have been closer to the logging road than the village, but the terrain wasn’t accommodating. It was tough going, with none of the game trails they came across heading in the right direction. They were forced to hack their way through the underbrush as the heat rose—cutting through the jungle and then pausing every twenty minutes to rest. Their clothes were soon drenched, and their water supply was dwindling at a rapid clip.

Eventually, they broke through into the clearing at the base of the large waterfall and sprawled in the shade of a grove of trees, studying the ridge for signs of another cave.

Remi stared at the sheer rock face and after several minutes pushed herself to her feet. “We know it’s got to be there somewhere. What was the final line from the diary?”

“‘The way lies beyond the fall,’” Lazlo repeated from memory.

“You can’t get much more beyond the fall than the ridge, so it’s a question of where, exactly, the entrance is,” Sam observed.

“Well, we’re not going to find it, lounging around here,” Remi said. “How’s the leg, Leonid?”

“I’m strong as a bull. I feel nothing but impatience at being denied the treasure,” Leonid said, his tone as serious as a eulogy. Remi held his stare and then they both laughed simultaneously as he struggled to rise.