Prologue:
Somewhere in the South American Jungle…mid 1900s
Josh pushed aside a palm fond and gazed ahead at the stone wall that came into view. His brother James staggered into his back from the sudden stop.
"Pashua," he said using the nickname his parents had called the younger Rigg brother in childhood. "Can you warn me if you're going to stop walking in the middle of the jungle where no one can see past the end of his…"
Josh waved his hand dismissively at the older sibling. While James was the richer of the two and often had to finance these adventures; Josh's long periods of living in the remote corners of the world like his hero Dr Henry "Indiana" Jones, had made him almost radar like in recognizing trouble. And right now the radar was sending out strong signals.
"We're here", Josh said as he revealed the wall to James. James's response was to lift his camera and quickly snap a photo. The Incan face, carved into the granite stone, was leering at them hungrily. As though it knew something they didn't. or shouldn't. James' collection of cameras, three to be exact, rattled as he snapped another picture with the new "color" film from Mr. Eastman's lab. Some of the scientific journals that printed stories and pictures of far off places would like to see reality from the field.
"Can't be sure, but this looks like it," said Josh. His white shirt now a light tan from long periods in the sun and the elements, dark circles under his arms and the heavy line down his back spoke of the period of time he'd been breaking trail for the others. From the front pocket of his dark cotton pants he pulled a battered brass compass and glanced at its face then at the sky as if to confirm the compass' directional ability. His low crown Stetson hat, dusty and sweat-stained as well covered his light blond hair.
James' safari suit fit him, tailored for his stocky frame. The Sam Browne Belt carried his Browning Auto close to his right hip and the well worn leather boots showed care, and concern for his possessions. This was in contrast to his rather 'unkempt' brother with the old gunslingers belt fastened around his trim waist. His .44 seems too large for the gangly youth, but he'd shown on more than one occasion that he was quick and accurate with the old wheelgun.
"Do you think Hanson has figured it out?" James asked.
"Well", the southern drawl came slowly, "he's probably right behind us so he's gonna know soon"
Harold Hanson, the greedy Englishman who felt the world owed him a living, was known for following any adventurers into the jungle, only to reemerge with a new finding and knowing nothing about the now "lost" party who happened to be looking for those same artifacts.
The Rigg Brothers knew their search for the city of Kolnichi would reach Hanson's ears before they left their hotel in Tasimec, the last "civilization" for a thousand miles. Hanson's men had been right behind them as they trekked westward then turned south, but before the sunset they had ditched their shadows and moved towards their goal, with grins shared between them. Now another 12 hours had brought them here.
Josh moved back to the corner of the trail he'd cut from the jungle and pulled a spring and a coil of fishing line from his shoulder bag. A small branch bent nearly double and a few quick knots later, Josh stood from his work.
"Haven't seen a 'Malaysian Tiger Trap' in South America before," James commented.
"Tigers don't live in South America, they're Asian", the slight figure at his side stated with resolve. K. K. Rigg, the oldest sibling was their walking encyclopedia. Known as "KK" or the Kat she exhibited grace and charm from her southern roots but had also been known to respond with educated fury if angered.
Well, the rats follern' us are gonna find a swat to the shins will give us plenty of warnin" Josh pointed to the wall. "We gotta find the door to the city or we'll be spendin the night with th bugs and buggers".
KK only glanced at the carved face. "That way" she pointed to the right and stepped in that direction.
"You think… why?" James was logging the find of the carved face and the wall into his journal.
"Incan faces look away from the entrance; there will be another equidistant from the gate to the city,"
The brothers stared at each other, "Of course" James said with exasperation. "Of course," Josh echoed. "We should have known all along".
Sam, the native guide, simply followed along. He'd been with their parents the famous biologist Jonathan Rigg and his wife Julianna. The kids were exactly the same, confident, educated and worst of all PRONE TO TROUBLE!
Chapter ONE
The brothers followed KK thru the creeper vines and sharp palm fonds that made up the jungle fauna. The going was made easier for them because KK rather than hacking thru vines and other obstacles simply walked around, so the men following couldn't keep their trail in view. It was instinctive for the young lady who had made a name for herself trapping animals in the wilds of Africa with Frank Buck. "Animals don't cut paths", Buck had told her, "so I don't make them either".
James and Josh couldn't have cared less. As far as they were concerned, the sooner Hanson caught up with them, the sooner they could DO SOMETHING. Hanson's meddling was annoying, but neither of them was concerned that he might actually disrupt their search. In fact James would just as soon Hanson be delivered to a local crocodile as to the law, Josh was pretty certain that Hanson wouldn't let it get that far. Hanson was probably planning on their being the next croc meal.
KK stopped at the indention in the wall. Her gaze had already determined the location of the gate, now she was more interested in the local appearance. Quickly, she scanned the ground, the brush then the trees. "Hanson's goon squad is getting close," she murmured. Josh who's time in jungles and forests across the globe rivaled his sister's; also noticed.
"Yeah, the jungle's too quiet," he said as his hand slipped into the back of his belt.
"Please don't!" the voice of Harold Hanson cut across the small grassy knoll where the group stood. "Mr. Rigg, I'm afraid that your sister is much too precognitive for you to be allowed to retrieve artifacts. You're too resourceful and it's obvious that you mustn't be allowed to upset my new discovery."
"Right," James said with sarcastic acid in his voice. "A new discovery for Harold Hanson is JUST what the world is waiting for". Josh's left hand kept away from the holstered pistol on his hip. Instead, his fingers found the tight strings in the back of his belt.
Hanson stepped out from behind a small rock pile. His five 'assistants'; killers all, spread across the trail to keep from providing a single target. Martin, a large German with a shaved head approached KK and stood in front of her with the Lugar pistol pointed at the three men. He licked his upper lip in anticipation of the violence he planned for the girl.
KK's hand slapped forward. The small folded fan struck the man on the side of the face. The other's laughed as the German's eyes opened wider.
"She too much for you," Hanson growled as he smirked at his henchman. Then Martin, fell forward on his face. The blow shattered three teeth and rattled the man's brain before it shut down.
"What the…" snapped Hanson. It was far from obvious but the folds of the fan concealed small metal ribs that turned the fan, when folded, into a club of dangerous preportions. KK's expertise in the martial arts had simply been too much for another criminal who assumed that a slight female figure held no danger to him.
James and Josh both responded with blinding speed as the attention was diverted. Josh's hand leapt from behind his back with the bolo spinning. As he released the coil the small weights spun forward choking off another goon's gaping surprise. As the coils of string wrapped around his throat the three small weights popped in the rear of his head dropping him in the dirt beside the dead German. James, meanwhile, slipped the three shurkein from his pocket and backhanded them towards the surprised Hanson, and his other goons. Hanson gasped in shock at the sting below his shirt pocket and looked down to see a small metal star fall from the cloth. His attention diverted only for two seconds as his brain processed the slight injury-truthfully no more than an annoyance. As he looked back up the problem became much worse.
With a slight slapping sound, Josh's .44 cleared the holster at his hip and the loud bang was followed by the three sharp cracks of the 9mm Browning. Hanson stared at the two men who had simply drawn, fired and the goons who had dropped their weapons; or more accurately, had them shattered in their hands. The third still on his feet had moved to where KK stood and his attention was diverted at the loud reports of the weapons. As he moved to bring the short shotgun to bear on the brothers KK's left palm slapped at the twin barrels, backhanded the man in the chest and grasped the left wrist closest to her. She slipped behind the swarthy Hispanic and whispered "don't" in his ear. Her right hand, tapped his right shoulder and the sharp click caused his head to turn towards the sound to see a small .38 derringer tap his head. KK's "gambler's holster" up her right sleeve had deposited the pistol in her palm.
The shotgun dropped to the ground in fear as the poor henchman began to plead with all the saint's names he could remember to allow him to escape these three. They weren't college professors who desired adventure; they were Adventurers who happened to be professional fighters. Hanson's foolish promises of riches were no match to the stark reality of being too dead to spend it.
Hanson's fear had now had time to process as he stared at James. "Those were poisoned weren't they? I'm gonna die!" the shriek of panic came thru clearly. James simply snorted.
"How would I carry them, stupid? They're nothing more than sharpened shurkin. You read too much fiction." He reached into another pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch. "This is anectine, the poison of the natives, I'm carrying it back to use in some experiments. I'll be happy to give you a taste".
"Let them go," KK's bored voice told of her impatience with the criminal and his gang. This man's loud tramping thru the jungle and broadcasted threats had turned their short jungle expedition into a comical farce. Surely this didn't have to happen every time they left home? It was worse than some of those Edgar Brroughs novels that her students read.
Josh had retrieved his bolo from the neck of the small man who was already groaning from the serious headache and bile in his throat. He choaked and gasped as the strings were quickly unwound. Then he emptied his breakfast on the grass. Josh smirked as his hands scooped up the fallen shotgun where it lay, expertly broke it open and pulled the shells. KK had stopped pointing the pistol at the last man's head and left him rubbing his sore wrist where she had wrenched it from the weapon. Sam moved up with Wa the large dog that also accompanied the group. His growls prompted a new round of blubbered fear and pleading from the disarmed and disheartened men.
"Wa, really!" KK said. "They would only upset your stomach and keep you from eating right for a week." The large Rotwhiler looking animal snorted and shook his great head. "A porkchop tonight" KK promised the loved companion.
Sam simply laughed as he took the shotgun from Josh and collected the shurkin for James. Another round of excitement that was aging him too fast. One day he'd be forced to use the Tompson strapped to the side of the pack burro. These kids were nothing but trouble!
Hanson and his men were rounded up and tied to a large tree. The three had tied each of them with single knots. Given enough time they would work their way free. They also left the criminal's knives and packs close by. If they got free they would probably make it back to civilization. But, without the Rigg map and recoveries. There would be no claims of discovery and if he were smart Hanson would be quick to divest himself of any holdings and move. The report from the group would doom any chances of further work here.
James took one more picture of the group, focusing especially on Hanson's face so that it could be turned over to the proper authorities. He then took a moment to reload all his cameras and discussed with KK the next steps in their exploration of the Incan city. Josh, and Sam cleared the brush from the gate and gazed in wonder at the slabs of heavy timber held together with strips of leather. The fact that it had stood for more than five hundred years was awesome. Then with a quick slap of his machete blade Josh crushed the ancient wood and it disentergrated in a shower of rotted mulch.
Wa stood holding the reins to the burro and wondered (in dog thoughts) how his friends could do such amazing things?