Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14)

She and Jian had arrived just after sunset, ditching the truck near one of the fields and hiking the last few miles on foot. They’d made a study of the camp and were trying to decide how best to get at the Americans without having to fight their way through the forty Peruvian men and women of the archaeology group.

“They’re trying to connect to their satellite,” she said, reading Emma’s lips, “but they can’t get a signal. They’re going to higher ground.”

She put the scope away and looked to Jian. “This is our chance. We have to get that computer.”

31

Urco led Kurt and Emma to the base of the second peak and, with a wolf whistle, called several of his people over. “I’ll go first,” he said, stepping into the harness for the ride to the top.

As he disappeared upward into the night, Kurt glanced at Emma. “You don’t have to go,” he said. “I can send the data.”

She shook her head. “I’d never live it down.”

“In that case, think about it this way: it’s so dark, you won’t be able to tell how high you are.”

“That doesn’t help,” she replied.

A double flash from high above told them Urco was safely on the mountaintop. When the harness dropped out of the dark, Kurt grabbed it. “Ready?”

Emma exhaled and nodded. “Here,” she said, handing him the computer. “My hands are shaking already. Won’t do us any good if I drop it.”

Kurt took the laptop as she strapped herself in and gave the thumbs-up signal. “Top floor, please.”

Emma was pulled upward into the dark. Because she was lighter, she rose faster. From Kurt’s angle, she almost seemed to be flying.

His turn came moments later. With the harness around him, he held the rope with one hand and gripped the computer with the other. After the initial liftoff, he turned to look out over the camp. Only the fires near the center of camp and a few lights dotted here and there.

He glanced upward. A soft glow surrounded the rigging at the top. It came from the flashlights that Emma and Urco carried, but it was dim and very far away, like a boat on the surface waiting for him to return from a night dive.

As he neared the crest, the lights converged on him. On this particular peak, there was no need for a ladder to make the final ascent; instead, Kurt continued up until the top of the harness tapped against the pulley above him and his feet were level with a broad wooden platform. He stepped onto it with ease, disconnected the harness and handed Emma the computer.

“You should have had that reporter meet you up here,” he mentioned to Urco.

“Then he might never have left,” Urco replied.

“That was quite enjoyable,” Emma said to Kurt. “I don’t know what you were worried about.”

Kurt laughed at that and took a look around. There was a marked difference between this peak and the one he’d met Urco on earlier. For one thing, it was smaller—a dance floor instead of a football field. It had also been improved. Wooden planks had been nailed together and anchored in the stone. They covered most of the surface. Though some ground remained visible at the edges, the decking sloped away so sharply, it would have been treacherous to stand on.

On Kurt’s right, two plastic storage bins had been nailed to the deck. On his left, a well-braced rig held the zip lines coming to and leading off of the platform. Beyond was nothing but pitiless black.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Kurt joked.

“The terrain made it necessary,” Urco said. “The ground here is too uneven, and terribly weathered. It made for poor footing, so we built this platform.”

Kurt moved across the creaky boards to a spot beside Emma. She’d taken a seat near the very center and had already flipped the laptop open and was booting up.

As she worked, a brief schematic appeared, depicting the horizon line, the constellations and the track of several NUMA satellites. The computer chose the satellite with the strongest signal.

“Locked in,” Emma said. “Beginning transmission.”

“I saw your vehicle,” Urco said out of the blue. “You seem to have gone through a great deal just to get here. You must want this airplane back very badly.”

“We do,” Emma admitted.

“It makes sense,” Urco replied. “We all want back what we once had.”

A message popped up on the screen. Download complete. Processing data.