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They did not have to wait long. One of Amaru's foul-smelling henchman walked up to their guard and gave him an order. The ugly slug turned and motioned them out of the cave. "Salga, salga," he commanded them.
Loren shook Gunn awake and helped him rise to his feet. "They want to move us," she told him softly.
Gunn looked at her dazedly, and then incredibly, he forced a tight smile. "About time they upgraded us to a better room."
With Gunn shuffling alongside Loren, her arm around his waist, his over her shoulders, they were led to a flat area between the stalagmites near the shoreline of the river. Amaru was joking with four of his men who were grouped around him. Another man she recognized from the ferryboat as Cyrus Sarason.
The Latin Americans appeared cool and relaxed, but Sarason was sweating heavily and his shirt beneath his armpits was stained.
Their one-eyed guard pushed them roughly forward and moved slightly apart from the others. Sarason reminded Loren of a high school coach who was pressed into service as a chaperon at a prom, seeing out a dull and boring duty.
In contrast, Amaru looked as if he were bursting at the seams with nervous energy. Excitement gleamed in his eyes. He stared at Loren with the same intensity as a man crawling through the desert who suddenly sights a saloon advertising cold beer. He came over and roughly cupped Loren's chin with one hand.
"Are you ready to entertain us?"
"Leave her be," said Samson. "There is no need to prolong our stay here."
Something cold and slimy moved through Loren's stomach. Not this, she thought, God not this. "If you're going to kill us, get it over with."
"You'll get your wish soon enough." Amaru laughed sadistically. "But not before you pleasure my men.
When they are finished, and if they are satisfied, perhaps they will give you a thumbs-up and let you live.
If not, then a thumbs-down like the Romans judging a gladiator in the arena. I suggest you make them happy."
"This is crazy!" snapped Sarason.
"Use your imagination, amigo. My men and I have worked hard helping to transport your gold from the mountain. The least you can do is allow us a small reward for our services before we leave this hellish place."
"You're all getting well paid for your services."
"What is the term you use in your country?" said Amaru, breathing heavily. "Fringe benefits?"
"I don't have time for prolonged sex games," Samson said.
"You will make the time," Amaru hissed, baring his teeth like a coiled snake about to strike. "Or my men will become most unhappy. And then I may not be able to control them."
One look at the five toughs backing up the Peruvian killer and Samson shrugged. "She is of no interest to me." He stared at Loren for a moment. "Do with her what you will, but get it over with. We still have work to do and I don't want to keep my brothers waiting."
Loren was on the verge of throwing up. She looked at Sarason, her eyes imploring. "You're not one of them. You know who I am, whom I represent. How can you stand by and allow this to happen?"
"Barbaric cruelty is a fact of life where they come from," Sarason replied indifferently. "Every one of these vicious misfits would cut a child's throat as casually as you or I would slice a filet mignon."
"So you'
ll do nothing while they do their perverted work?"
Sarason gave a detached shrug. "It might be rather entertaining."
"You're no better than they are."
Amaru leered. "I find great enjoyment in bringing haughty women like you to their knees."
That was the signal to end the talk. Amaru made a gesture to one of his men. "You may have the honor of going first, Julio."
The others looked disappointed at not being chosen. The lucky one stepped forward, his mouth stretched in a lustful grin, and grabbed Loren by the arm.
Little Rudi Gunn, grievously injured and barely able to stand, suddenly crouched, launched himself forward, and rammed his head into the belly of the man about to assault Loren. His charge had all the impact of a broomstick against the gate of a fortress. The big Peruvian barely grunted before delivering a passionless backhand that sent Gunn sprawling across the floor of the cavern.
