A hidden treasure. A dangerous journey. An epic quest begins.
Buckle up for The Treasure of Tundavala Gap, a breathtaking, globe-trotting thrill ride that will leave you gasping until the final, explosive secret is revealed. When a brilliant PhD student and his best friend team up with a captivating Angolan guide to hunt for a legendary fortune, the trio find themselves in a harrowing game of cat-and-mouse with ruthless killers who want the treasure for themselves.
From chaotic battlegrounds of the Angolan Civil War to untamed West African border towns, this cinematic page-turner transports you to a world of exotic locales, jaw-dropping action sequences, smoldering romance, and remarkable bravery in the face of escalating danger. In the spirit of Indiana Jones and The Da Vinci Code, with unexpected cameos by Fidel Castro and Che Guevara, this gripping adventure will leave you breathless as you race to the stunning conclusion.
A hidden treasure. A dangerous journey. An epic quest begins.
Buckle up for The Treasure of Tundavala Gap, a breathtaking, globe-trotting thrill ride that will leave you gasping until the final, explosive secret is revealed. When a brilliant PhD student and his best friend team up with a captivating Angolan guide to hunt for a legendary fortune, the trio find themselves in a harrowing game of cat-and-mouse with ruthless killers who want the treasure for themselves.
From chaotic battlegrounds of the Angolan Civil War to untamed West African border towns, this cinematic page-turner transports you to a world of exotic locales, jaw-dropping action sequences, smoldering romance, and remarkable bravery in the face of escalating danger. In the spirit of Indiana Jones and The Da Vinci Code, with unexpected cameos by Fidel Castro and Che Guevara, this gripping adventure will leave you breathless as you race to the stunning conclusion.
The radio crackled with panicked shouts as Colonel Juan Mateus
de Silva’s gaze swept across the makeshift command tent,
his heart heavy with the weight of impending doom. The Cuban
radioman turned, sweat beading on his brow. “Second rifle unit is not
responding, mi Coronel.”
Another burst of static and the sound of panicked shouts. “First
rifles being pushed back. Second armor in full retreat!”
De Silva’s jaw clenched, his blue eyes flashing with frustration.
They were being routed by the enemy UNITA forces entrenched on
the high ground of the Cuanza Sul Province in Angola.
Without hesitation, de Silva barked orders, his voice cutting
through the chaos in the tent. “Deploy Second infantry west toward
the left flank. Send Third and Fourth rifles north to the center. Ándale!”
The radioman’s fingers flew across the dials. “Sí, Coronel!”
His words tense and rushed as he shouted into the battered green
microphone, relaying de Silva’s commands to the front lines.
Two radios blared with incomprehensible shouts in Spanish and
Portuguese, interspersed with the staccato roar of explosions. One radio
linked them to the overall command, while the other communicated
their own beleaguered Fifth Company movements.
An inexperienced Angolan comms runner cowered in the corner,
hands over his ears to block out the terrifying sounds. He was there
to run orders out into the field but wasn’t ready to go anywhere right
now, knees shaking and eyes closed.
De Silva’s presence filled the tent, his neatly pressed Cuban
Revolutionary Army fatigues like a second skin, three yellow stars of
a primer coronel or senior colonel glinting on his shoulders. He exuded
a warrior’s belief in the mission, which permeated the space and gave
confidence to his men. But inside, his gut twisted. Losing his men was
unthinkable, unbearable. His aide, Major Maceo Perez stood to his right
and slightly behind, just as powerless as de Silva to stop the carnage.
“Comms runner!” De Silva’s voice cut through the chaos. The
young Angolan runner trembled, eyes wide with primal fear, rooted in
place. Sweat poured from his face as he willed himself to be anyplace
else. De Silva moved toward the man, gripped his shoulder, and spoke
into his ear.
“We all feel the fear . . . all of us, my brother. You can do this.”
Despite the bullets, the bombs, and the screams from an adjacent
medical tent, the comms runner straightened, a new purpose in his eyes.
De Silva spoke loudly for all to hear, “Runner. Second Infantry to
the left flank.”
“Sí, mi Coronel!” The comms runner sprinted out of the tent, his
fear forgotten or at least held at bay as he ran into war.
De Silva turned to the radioman, his voice terse. “Call the general.
Tell him we need two more artillery units and four more rifle units, or
the right flank falls.” The colonel refused to give up, even though he
knew reinforcements would never come. General Javier Luis Américo
was inexperienced and, in de Silva’s view, an incompetent fool.
De Silva and Fifth Company were on their own. After spending
many years in this godforsaken country and fighting in countless
battles, he knew this situation would be the death of them all. But he
had to try something.
“To the map . . . hurry!”
De Silva’s officers gathered around as his calloused finger traced
their precarious position on the map. “UNITA controls the high
ground to our east, the rocky outcrops here.” He pointed to the
enemy UNITA’s yellow pins on the map. “They are pushing us back,
with First and Third rifles failing. This is driving a wedge between us
and the main MPLA force. We’re about to be cut off completely. With
the river behind us, unless we make a move, we’ll be surrounded and
wiped out.” His words hung in the tense air.
Although he looked cool and in control, de Silva’s insides roiled
with the dread of losing all his men. “Gentlemen, we are the point of
the spear for Cuba and the MPLA. We cannot and will not fail Fidel
or our country. This!” He hammered the map with the flat of his hand.
“This is our duty and our life.”
General Américo was in charge of the overall MPLA operation, and
de Silva cursed him silently as he listened intently to the surrounding
war. This chosen area was undefendable and there was no option to
maneuver or strategically retreat. De Silva thought of The Art of War
and Sun Tzu’s instruction, “He will win who knows when to fight and
when not to fight.” He did not want to fight from this position, but
General Américo was not a man to brook discussion or seek input.
Major Perez held his gaze in silent understanding. He and the
colonel were close as brothers. Perez, having been trained by de Silva,
had fought at his side for many years. The major’s look said it all. They
both knew this was likely the end.
A muscle ticked in the colonel’s clenched jaw as unbidden
memories resurfaced. His wife Maria Teresa’s luminous smile. His
little butterfly, Mariposa, growing up fatherless in distant Cuba.
De Silva realized again the enormous cost to his dedication. He
had not seen Cuba or Maria in years. His daughter was growing up
without her father. There had been years of bullets and dirt, and
sun-drenched battles. Years of career successes and family neglect. His
priorities had been wrong, and he felt the weight of guilt descend on
his shoulders. His mind snapped back to the present as the sound of
the battle roared back into his ears. UNITA forces were on the cliffs
above their position.
De Silva felt a suicidal plan forming in his mind. A crazy last
resort, a “Charge of the Light Brigade” type of plan, but one which
no one would ever remember. He would marshal all of his forces,
abandon their position, and attack the UNITA brigade to the west,
where they were dug in and waiting. With a miracle, they could drive
through the machine guns and mines, and reunite with the main
force. This would make General Américo furious, but it might save
about half of de Silva’s men if they planned and executed correctly.
The Cuban colonel swallowed hard and stood straight. “Listen
closely, comrades. We are going to—”
A deafening blast shattered the moment. The UNITA howitzer
shell slammed into the northeast corner of the command tent like a
thunderbolt straight from hell. The forty-four-kilogram fragmentation
shell impacted the ground at six hundred meters per second with a
violent impact of shockwaves and chaos.
Suddenly, de Silva was launched into the air, the world spinning
in a chaotic blur of dust and debris. This actually wasn’t so bad, he
thought, a slow-motion roller-coaster ride through space. The ride over,
he landed with a thud and rolled several times, dirt covering his
uniform and rising in great puffs, rocks scraping elbows and knees.
He lay there; ears stopped working, stunned and motionless. De
Silva gasped deeply, realizing he hadn’t been breathing. The world
began to speed up, and he took in his surroundings. Like a television
on mute, there were no sounds, but he could see plenty of combat
and fighting.
Perez lay motionless some ten meters away. De Silva staggered
upright and lurched toward him, his Colt .45 coming automatically
to his hand. His ears heard nothing, but he saw bullets kicking up
geysers of dirt around them.
To his left, he could see two UNITA soldiers running up the hill
toward their position firing AK-47’s. One soldier had a camouflaged
shirt with ragged shorts and flip-flops. His face was twisted in rage
and terror, mouth open wide and teeth visible. The other soldier wore
a fatigue cap and was bare-chested and barefooted.
De Silva’s .45 barked, dropping the first man. He took two more
steps forward when a bullet smashed into his left thigh. He steadied
the .45 and crouched, aiming carefully despite his wound. His bullet
sailed into the second man. De Silva moved forward, running in a
shambling fashion and half dragging his left leg behind him. He had
made it to the major.
De Silva crouched beside the major and felt for a heartbeat,
two fingers on the carotid artery. No pulse. Perez’s silver crucifix lay
between them, stained with blood. The colonel placed a hand lightly
on his friend’s shoulder, saying goodbye, and closed his hand around
the crucifix.
There were still no sounds in his ears, but the blossoms of dirt
erupting were even closer now. De Silva crouched below the body,
using it for cover as he raised his walkie-talkie and requested an urgent
priority one helicopter evac.
Memories flickered behind de Silva’s eyes—Maria Teresa’s face
on their wedding day in Santo Domingo. A welcome image of his
butterfly, Mariposa, her delighted laugh as he tossed her playfully high
in the air. Squeezing the crucifix tightly, he stood and snapped off
three more shots, emptying his pistol before crouching again.
His thoughts turned to a secret location where a vast fortune in
Angolan diamonds waited. Sparkling and glittering, they lay hidden,
his legacy, waiting for someone brave enough to claim them.
The Treasure of Tundavala Gap, by Jeffrey Schmoll
The story begins in the 1980s, Colonel Juan M. De Silva has been fighting in the Angolan Civil War for years without seeing his wife and daughter. Then transitions to the present day with Mateus DeSilva, grandson of the Colonel, who is writing his dissertation on neuroscience and has a photographic memory. The plot continues to alternate with Colonel De Silva's finding and hiding diamonds, trying to get information to his family, and staying alive during the war. Mateus continues his studies, his video games, and finding out why his mother, a flotilla boat immigrant from Cuba, died when he was three. Those and many other mysteries begin to unravel for Mateus throughout the complex and riveting story that follows him to Cuba, Dubai, Angola, and many other locations.
Mateus de Silva is an endearing character of maximum intelligence and memory, who is awkward socially and extremely shy and lives a solitary life. His childhood friend and sidekick, Tay, is a fellow genius and video gamer who understands Mateus and is his rock through life. Their female counterpart is Muni, a very social computer scientist who, with Tay, completes Mateus' family. They embark on an immense and dangerous journey, meeting with friend and foe while traveling and trying to locate the diamonds in his grandfather's letters. The author is adept at describing the environment, the feelings, and the actions of the treasure hunters to capture the reader's attention. However, it was a bit hard to follow the changing of the main characters, Mateus and his grandfather at the beginning of the book, but, overall, the story kept my interest piqued. Unexpected developments, dangerous encounters, plot twists, and colorful characters give this story considerable depth and gut-wrenching emotion. I enjoyed the characters, the journey, and the glimpse into other continents and people. There is also a backdrop of history in Angola and Cuba that provides authenticity to Mateus' journey and his quest into his family history. I gave this book a 5/5.