CHAPTER 10

Oh-kay. So much for Tommy’s Costa Rican girlfriend’s name meaning “silent.”

I wonder what the Spanish word for “blabbermouth” is?

“Sileny?” Tommy sort of whimpered. “How could you?”

“Silence, silly boy!” hissed Sileny, reminding me of that pit viper we’d just met. “You were so easy to fool.”

Tailspin Tommy crashes and burns once again.

Guy Dubonnet Merck chuckled.

“Give us the golden crown and the scepter of the Incan high priest, Dr. Kidd!” he demanded. “Give them to us now! Or I will execute your children one by one. Starting with the girl you call Storm, for she not only tricked me into a wild African goose chase, she is also a very easy and wide target.”

Dad’s face turned beet red. It always does when somebody makes fun of one of his children.

“I believe you meant to say she is beautiful and intelligent.” I could see the hair bristling on the back of his neck.

“She will also be dead if you do not give me what I want!” raged Merck. “Do not forget, Dr. Kidd, I’m a semipsychotic sociopath compensating for a wretchedly unhappy childhood.”

Whoa. I guess Guy Dubonnet Merck had a psych degree, too.

“Very well,” said Dad. “If we give you the headpiece and the staff, do you promise you will leave my family unharmed?”

“Yes! You have my word as a semipsychotic sociopath!”

“Um, that’s not the best vow I’ve ever heard,” I said.

“Give them the golden rod, Tommy,” said Dad.

“Fine,” said Tommy. “But I’m not giving it to her!”

He handed the ancient Incan staff to the closest biker who wasn’t Sileny.

“Here you are, Mr. Merck,” said Dad, holding out the Incan headpiece. “I hope it brings you happiness and good fortune.”

“Ha!” laughed Merck, grabbing the feathered crown out of Dad’s hands. “I’m sure it will.”

He cradled the headpiece in his lap so he could tap some information into his smartwatch.

He waited maybe five seconds.

His watch dinged.

“Voilà!” Merck announced. “I already have a buyer. Oh, my. Such a generous offer, too! Adieu, annoying Kidd family. It has been a pleasure robbing you. I would kill you all now but I hope to steal more treasures from you in the future. Sileny, my dove? Lead the way!”

The six dirt bikes took off, their spinning tires chewing up the jungle floor as they barreled down the trail.

“We should chase after them!” I said.

“An excellent suggestion, Bick,” said Dad. “However, we forgot to pack our own trail bikes.”

“I sure wish we had,” said Beck.

“We still remember all those off-roading moves you taught us,” I told Dad.

“I’m certain you do.”

When Beck and I were younger, Dad spent a lot of time teaching us how to ride. We started on tricycles, of course, but we were driving ATVs on rugged mountain ranges all over the world when most kids our age were still on bikes with training wheels.

“We better get back to the ship,” said Mom. “Fast.”

“Indeed. But cheer up, family,” said Dad. “All is not lost. Mr. Merck may have taken our shiny gold artifacts but he foolishly left us with the most important Incan treasures.”

Dad tapped his shoulder bag again.

The letter and the handle of the sacrificial tumi knife were still in there. We still had the keys to the Lost City of Paititi.

“Let’s double-time it down the mountain,” said Mom.

“Yes, ma’am!” we all shouted back, including Dad. Then we took off jogging.

We could still hear the whine of the motorcycles in the distance. It sounded like they were making their way to the other side of the island.

“Good,” Dad said when we came to a cliff overlooking the bay where we had anchored the Lost. “Mr. Merck has no interest in looting our ship, too!”

“Chya,” said Tommy, pulling out his binoculars and studying the sea below. “Maybe because somebody else already beat him to it!”