The Survivor (Eve Duncan #30)

“How nice for them. How does that help us?”

“It doesn’t. But before Chodak came here, he spent almost twenty years working as a Sherpa in the mountains on and around Silvana’s tomb. He knows that area like few people in the world.”

“That means nothing. My people have reached out to some of the Sherpas up there. No one will even speak of Silvana and her tomb. It’s a sacred trust to them, and has been going back hundreds of years. They’re nutty about it. Superstitious, even.”

“That’s where this man is different. He has no use for those traditions. He broke with his people for a reason.”

“What reason?”

Bevan shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. But apparently, Chodak came here and never looked back. It’s why my sources think he may be persuaded to give you the information you need.”

They rounded a sharp curve, and the road abruptly ended against a cluster of trees. Bevan slammed the brakes.

“What now?” Nadim said.

“Now we walk.” Bevan unfastened his seat belt. “But from what I understand, it’s only a few yards from here.”

“You’d better be right about this.”

Nadim, Bevan, and the four men in the jeeps behind them climbed out of their vehicles and walked through the trees. After less than five minutes, they emerged to find themselves on the island’s south shore, at the end of a long dock with a run-down bar and even more run-down café. Several boats were tied up to the dock, which apparently supplied the establishments with their only customers.

Bevan pointed to a coal-fired steamer that was probably almost a hundred years old. “That’s his boat.”

“You’re joking.”

“No. It’s not particularly fast, but it’s extremely well maintained. He gets more for his charters than anyone else in the area.”

A voice came from behind them. “Yes, I do. But it’s worth every dollar.”

They turned to see a small dark-skinned man, about fifty, with a large potbelly. He smiled. “Unfortunately, the only guns I allow on the boat are my own. You’ll have to leave your artillery here on shore.”

Nadim turned to see that his men, as usual, had made no attempt to hide their handguns and shoulder holsters. He turned back. “We don’t want to hire your boat. Mr. Chodak, I presume?”

“Yes.” Chodak eyed him warily. “And you are…?”

“Someone who wants to make you a wealthy man.”

Chodak laughed. “I have a lot of money already.”

“I’ll give you more.”

He shook his head. “If you’re from an oil company, I won’t tell you about the places I’ve taken my other customers. All my trips are strictly confidential.”

“I’m more interested in a certain mountain range where you used to work.”

Chodak’s smiled faded. “That was a long time ago. I don’t really talk about those days anymore.”

“Perhaps I can persuade you. And that brings us back to my ‘wealthy man’ proposal.”

Chodak shook his head. “I’m a busy man. Maybe another day.” He pushed past the men, but Nadim grabbed his arm.

“You should see this first.”

Nadim nodded to one of his men, who stepped forward with an alligator-skin satchel. The man opened it to show that it was filled with U.S. currency.

Chodak’s eyes widened. “A lot of money to carry around in these parts. That explains the guns.”

Nadim smiled. “It’s a hundred thousand dollars. One productive conversation and it’s all yours. If I find what I’m looking for, two of my associates here will be staying behind to give you a million dollars more within a week.”