them to send secret messages,’ said Nina, aware that Callas now had a look of greedy expectancy. It seemed she had unwittingly pushed one of de Quesada’s buttons. ‘I don’t think that’s true, because as far as we know the khipus only contained numerical information – the Incas never developed a written language. But the Spanish—’
De Quesada regarded the khipu more closely. ‘So the Conquistadors destroyed them to show their power over the Incas?’
‘You could say that. Really, though, they’re just—’
He cut her off again, getting to his feet. ‘I will buy it, Salbatore!’ He cackled, swigging from his glass. ‘You just make sure that my old friend Arcani Pachac knows I have it, like his precious sun disc. That little communist cagada thinks he is the Inca emperor reborn? Then I’ll remind him what the Spanish did to the Incas. A million dollars, you said? Make it two!’
‘You – you’re spending two million dollars just to annoy Pachac?’ Nina said, shocked and appalled.
‘I am spending more than that! The sun disc, this great symbol of Pachac’s glorious heritage?’ His words dripped sarcasm. ‘I have the perfect place for it. When it is installed, I will send him a picture – it will drive him mad!’
‘Francisco and Pachac were once partners,’ explained Callas. ‘Until—’
‘Until he turned against me,’ said de Quesada. ‘He got politics, decided he wanted to restore the poor downtrodden Indians to power.’ He mimed wiping a tear from one eye, pulling an exaggeratedly sad face. ‘The defeated should keep their heads down. The Spanish nobles were the victors. They still are.’
‘But all that money,’ said Nina. ‘You’re spending millions out of spite? Why?’
De Quesada shrugged and took another drink. ‘Because I can. I already have cars, boats, planes, houses, women . . . I have to spend my money on something. Other than bribes, anyway.’ He looked back at the khipu. ‘I will take it. What about the sun disc? How are you going to get it to Colombia?’
‘It’s already being dealt with,’ said Stikes.
‘You found a replacement for West?’
‘Indeed we did.’ He gave Nina a smug look. ‘As for the khipu, you can take it with you if you like, but I’d recommend using our agent’s services for that as well. In case anyone asks questions.’
De Quesada scowled. ‘You are probably right. I cannot take a shit in my own country without some government pendejo or bastard from the DEA trying to look up my ass. Maybe after tonight I should move to Venezuela, eh?’
‘Maybe,’ said Callas noncommittally.
‘And speaking of tonight . . . ’ A small but distinctly cunning smile as de Quesada took something from his jacket: a DVD in a transparent case. ‘I know you have made a deal with Pachac, giving him control over the southern routes across the border. I want you to give those routes to me.’
Callas stiffened at the challenge, regarding the disc suspiciously. ‘What?’
‘Capture and kill his runners, and give his drugs to me. The only cocaine shipped through Venezuela will be mine.’
The general shook his head. ‘We have made a deal, we will stick to it. Just as I will stick to the deal I made with Pachac.’
De Quesada laughed. ‘Yes, of course you will. It never crossed your mind to use your new power to change the deal with him in your favour.’ His smile vanished. ‘Or the deal with me.’
Callas looked pointedly towards the two soldiers, both of whom were armed. ‘I don’t like your tone, Francisco.’
‘And I don’t like being double-crossed, Salbatore. So, let’s make sure it never happens, eh?’ He held out the DVD to Callas, who hesitated before snatching it from him, then nodded towards the television in the lounge. ‘Put it on.’
‘Watch her,’ Callas ordered one of the soldiers, who moved closer to Nina. The other closed the door behind Callas, Stikes and de Quesada as they went into the lounge. The reflections on the glass made it hard for Nina to see inside, but she could make out Callas putting the disc into a player and switching on the TV.
He watched it for less than a minute before whirling angrily on de Quesada. A brief argument, Callas becoming more furious by the moment, then the Venezuelan stormed back to the player, ejected the disc and hurled it across the room. Still seething, he threw the door open and returned to the balcony, clenching his fists round the handrail as he glared out across Caracas.