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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.
When he’d satisfied himself that there was no danger, he returned to the gap and smiled at Remi. “Looks clear. Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”
Remi nodded and joined him, trailed by Lazlo and Leonid.
A pile of at least fifty wooden crates, three feet by two feet by two, were piled in the center of the small grotto. Lazlo kneeled in front of the nearest and brushed away a layer of mold, then turned to Sam and Remi. “It’s kanji. Identifies the crates as property of the emperor. Bit cheeky, that . . .”
“How can we open some of these safely?” Leonid asked.
“Good question,” Sam said. “If we’re careful and on the lookout for pressure plates, spring-loads, and the like, we should be okay. We can work on a couple of them, but I’d like to get spotlights in here, as well as some specialists, before we try to open more than a few. The good news is, I can’t think of many booby traps that would still be operational years after the fact. But still, don’t touch anything, just in case they used a contact poison on the surfaces or the contents. Anything’s possible—I just don’t know enough about what was in use during the war to be certain.”
Remi pointed at a crate near the edge of the pile. “Let’s try this one.”
Sam moved to her and set his backpack down. After eyeing the crate, he handed Remi his flashlight and removed a crowbar from the bag and set it on the ground next to his machete.
“How are you going to do this??
? Remi asked.
“I’m thinking I core a hole in the top rather than try to pry the lid off. Prying would be the obvious way of opening it, so that’s the way I’ll avoid.”
He went to work with the machete, scraping away the soft outer wood, and then grinding the harder inner area until there was a fist-sized hole in the top of the crate. He sat back, put the machete down, and took his light back from Remi as she kneeled next to him. They exchanged a long glance, and then he leaned over the hole and blew away wood dust and chips. Remi shined her light inside while they both looked through the opening.
“Well, what is it?” Leonid asked impatiently.
“Yes, do tell,” Lazlo said.
“Fabric,” Sam said, unfolding his knife again. “Looks like a sack.” He reached into the hole and sliced at the fabric, which crumbled to dust at his touch, and then pulled his arm back with a look of revulsion on his face. A large black spider was crawling up his forearm, raising its legs in menace as it neared his elbow. Remi swatted it away with the back of her hand and it scuttled off into the darkness as Lazlo jumped back. Sam’s eyes met hers. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Sam took a deep breath and they both leaned over the hole again, their beams shining into the interior. They stayed that way for a few moments and then sat back. Leonid stepped closer. “Well?”
Remi shook her head and Sam shrugged. “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. That’s how it goes.”
“What’s in it?” Lazlo demanded, drawing nearer.
Sam’s serious expression cracked and he grinned at Lazlo and winked. “It’s gold, my friend. The crate’s filled with gold.”
CHAPTER 54
Three days later, Fleming and a cadre of police ringed the area in front of the waterfall. Greg and Rob, having experience in demolitions from their Navy SEAL days, had been drafted to confirm the crates weren’t still booby-trapped from eons ago. Lazlo helped document the contents of each crate under the watchful eyes of Chief Fleming and a gemstone expert he’d brought in from Australia. In addition to the gold shaved off the temple walls, the treasure consisted of crudely formed gold icons and hundreds of pounds of raw gemstones.
Roadworking equipment had been brought in and had cleared access to the waterfall. Soon, police vans, two official government SUVs, and a fleet of media vehicles were parked in the clearing.
Sam and Remi stood beneath a makeshift fabric shelter that shielded them from the spray of the waterfall. Lazlo’s head poked out of the brush by the edge of the waterfall. He waved and made his way to the tent, wiping his brow and smiling in triumph. Leonid appeared a few moments later, trailing the Englishman.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to tell you that we opened three more crates and all have raw diamonds and rubies in them,” Lazlo said in a low voice to Sam as though he didn’t want Fleming to hear.
“Nice to know the hoard keeps growing,” said the chief with a big smile. He was standing behind Leonid and had caught every word.
“How’s your case against you-know-who coming?” Remi asked.
