Curse of the Condor Read Free Page B

who weren't lucky enough to get anything, approached carefully looking at the items.
    "Go ahead," she sighed, and motioned with her hand. "Take them. You may as well. I've already lost everything else I own.” With that, they picked up the remaining of her belongings and disappeared down the street. The woman sat down on a log, clutching her straw purse to her chest and buried her face in her hands. Her body jerked with each sob.
    "Damn,” he cursed and hopped out of the canoe. He noticed the condor up high in the sky and knew he shouldn't come to the woman’s aid, but he couldn't just leave her there. By nightfall the woman was sure to be in hysterics, not to mention danger in a foreign land all by herself and dressed so scantily.
    " Señorita ," he said as he approached her.
    She looked up at him and jumped to her feet. He stood very close to her when he talked as was custom of the Peruvian people. She backed away a bit to keep her distance. Though he was half hidden under his Panama hat and poncho, he knew he looked like hell after living in the jungle for the last three months. Living alone, he hadn't bothered to shave, not to mention he probably smelled horrendous since he was living without deodorant.
    "I . . . I . . hola!" she said awkwardly and started digging through her purse for the guidebook.
    "I saw what happened," he said.
    "Oh, you speak English." She stopped digging in her purse and wiped her face with the back of her hand.
    "What do you want with the Jivaro?" He wasn't one for small talk.
    "I need a guide to take me to them," she said.
    "If you want to see how the natives live than take a tour through the Yagua camp. The Jivaro are a secluded tribe and don't want tourists bothering them."
    "I'm not a tourist," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm looking for a man."
    "Look, lady. I don't know what kind of entertainment you think you're going to find, but these men aren’t for you. You'd better get the hell out of here before you get yourself in trouble.
    He grabbed her by the wrist and led her back in the direction of the town. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the authorities, guns in hand, stopping some of the villagers and showing them a piece of paper which he was sure included his name if not his photo as well.
    "I'm in a hurry or I'd take you to the airport myself. Just go see Señor Diego de la Cruz and his wife, Paulita. They own the local restaurant. Tell them your situation and they'll help you. He shoved some Peruvian money in her hand. "You'll have to pay them, of course. But they'll make sure you get the hell out of here in one piece." He turned to go.
    "I'm not going anywhere but to the jungle," she told him, and pushed the money back into his own hand. "And if you can't help me find Conrado Nievez, than maybe the authorities can." She squinted in the sun towards the officers and waved a hand trying to flag one down.
    Conrado stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his name springing from her lips. Why in heaven's name was this woman looking for him? To turn him in for the reward money? He didn't think so. She wasn't the type to go bounty hunting.  She headed toward the officers, but he hurried beside her and redirected her toward the boat in one swift, smooth movement.
    "Did you say Conrado Nievez?"
    "I did."
    "What do you want with him?"
    "Well, not that it's any of your business, but I need him to help me track someone down. I was told I could find this Conrado with the Jivaro."
    "What do you mean?" he asked her. "Who is it you're trying to track down?"
    She looked him up and down for a moment, pursing her lips in indecision. She squinted at him, then shook her head slowly.
    "All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you. I’m looking for a missionary from the States. His name is Ryder Fitzgerald."
    Conrado's body tightened when he heard Ryder's name. No one had mentioned that name since the day he was killed. Not even the tribes people talked about it, for fear they'd bring