Free Lost Voyage by Chris Tucker Page B

military training. I’m sure of it.”
    “Your man?” Vallejos said in an agitated tone. “That soldier and the other five men he killed were all my men! Do not forget your place, Kervin. You work for me! These two men are killing my soldiers and you have failed to resolve this situation. If I need to find someone who can get the job done, I will!”
    Esperanza knew his place. “That won’t be necessary. I will present them both to you shortly.” He turned and walked out of his employer’s office. The scowl on his face revealed an anger that was culminating to a boiling point.
    Shortly after the departure, there was a knock at the door. Vallejos looked up and invited the portly gentleman in.
    He walked over to his guest and shook his hand. “Geovany, my good friend. It’s always a pleasure to see you. Forgive me, as I have been busy.”
    “Ah, Andres. Good to see you. I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now.”
    Geovany Rojas was a long-time consultant for Vallejos. He was a heavier man, standing five feet ten inches and weighing slightly less than three hundred pounds. He had a thin stream of black hair on his head which displayed a rapidly receding hairline, and his chubby cheeks looked as if they were stuffed with wadded up rolls of paper. Even his spectacles appeared to be too small for his face. He had been under the employ of the cartel leader for the past six years and had proven to be a valuable asset when it came to ascertaining information and handling legal issues.
    Vallejos offered him a seat and then sat down in his leather chair. “What news do you have for me?”
    “Well, I did some checking at the hotel where Kervin found the two men. Their names are Sean Mercer and Pat Vigil. They work for an organization called NESA. It’s an environmental research group and they’re down here studying the river and water supply. It appears that just before they left the hotel, one of the men made two calls, both to the United States. The desk clerk overheard the man talking, but could only put together bits and pieces of the conversation. He said he overheard something about a lost ship with a very large amount of gold on it, and that these two men were looking for it somewhere in the nearby vicinity.”
    Vallejos was intrigued by what he just heard. “A lost ship? What would a ship be doing in the middle of Nicaragua? And what about this gold?”
    Rojas shrugged his shoulders, apparently baffled by it as well. “I tried to do a quick search, but nothing shows up about any ship that was lost either on the river, or anywhere else for that matter.” He continued, but with a more somber look on his face,
    “The other part the clerk overheard, however, was of a much bigger concern. He said he heard something about bodies in shallow graves. You know I would never question you, Andres, but we cannot have the locals inquiring about your business practices.”
    Vallejos shrugged him off. “Let them think what they want. It is of no concern to me. I have the large majority of government officials either on my payroll or at a point where they’re too scared to do anything. So, let them think what they will.”
    Rojas knew there was no way of rationalizing the point to his employer, so he moved past it. “It also turns out the two men were overheard talking about a village they had spent time at earlier in the day, and something about a book possibly containing information about a ship. I think that’s more than just a weird coincidence. We searched their room, but found nothing. So, either this book is with them...” he was interrupted before he could complete his sentence.
    “Or it’s still in the village,” Vallejos finished.
    The two men wrapped up their conversation with some small talk, and then Rojas was sent on his way. The cartel leader stood there for a moment and pondered the possibility of the lost ship being somewhere in the vicinity. He then picked up the phone to make a call. After it