"I'm glad to see you're awake," Jack said as he stepped around the front of the pickup.
The two guards stood up and let the tailgate down. They hopped to the ground, keeping their weapons on the prisoners.
"Thanks for the accommodations," Sean said. "I haven't slept that hard in ten years."
Jack's eyes narrowed at Sean's sarcasm. Something in the American's tone suggested he wasn't kidding about the sleep.
"Happy to oblige you. And not to worry, soon you'll be sleeping for much longer. Now, if you don't mind, we should get going. Mr. Holmes is eager to receive his prize."
"I'm sure he is."
"And will Mr. Holmes be joining us on this lovely outing?" Reece asked.
"Mr. Holmes has other things commanding his attention at the moment," Jack answered. "Now, get moving." He brandished his pistol and pointed it at Sean.
Sean snorted derisively. "You think that's the first time I've had one of those shoved in my face, kid?" he asked as he got up slowly and made his way to the back of the truck.
"It might be your last."
"Predictable response," Sean said to himself. Bad guys always had the weakest comebacks.
Tommy climbed down next to his friend, still working his shoulder back and forth. "You know if this is the place where the boomerang is hidden, we might need some tools for digging and such," he said. His hope was to delay things by a few hours while Jack's men went to the nearest town to buy supplies.
His hopes were dashed the second he saw two of the guards walk around the front of the pickup, carrying backpacks with shovels, picks, a mattock, and crow bars hanging off the sides.
"Oh," Tommy said, realizing his plan was an instant failure.
The guards handed the packs to the three prisoners.
"So I guess you want us to carry these then?"
"Very astute of you," Jack replied. "Now move."
The climb up Mount Yengo might as well have been Everest for Tommy. While Reece and Sean were accustomed to the rigors of exercise, Tommy's lack of fitness revealed itself after the first four minutes of hiking.
The trail was steep in spite of the twists and turns carving up the mountain. Tommy stopped to catch his breath every five minutes but was ushered ahead with a rifle barrel in his back.
"Don't suppose you boys brought us any water?" Reece asked after they'd been hiking for twenty minutes.
The cool mountain air seemed to disappear in the wake of the group's strenuous hike. Thirst scratched their throats as sweat rolled down their faces.
The guards had bottles of water in mesh holders on the sides of their backpacks but offered none to the prisoners. Instead, they casually took intermittent drinks during the ascent.
"He's right," Tommy said in between gasps for air. "It's...it's important to stay...to stay hydrated. You wouldn't want one of us to die from heat stroke, would you?"
"Pretty sure you're going to be just fine," Jack said. "We'll give you some water when you get to the top."
"I...was...afraid...you'd say that." Tommy grunted and kept moving.
Despite Sean's high fitness level, he too started struggling. Most of his exercise regimen revolved around sprint training, some slow jogs, and hitting the weights a few times each week. He wasn't accustomed to carrying forty pounds of gear up a steep incline. In his youth he'd done a little backpacking here and there, but not enough to make a difference in the here and now.
Thirty minutes into the hike, the forest opened up to a wide meadow that stretched three hundred yards from left to right. It was covered in tall golden grasses atop shorter green fescue. Across the meadow, the forest continued up the mountain, but there was no trail to be found.
Reece stopped in a patch of grass and turned around to face the others. "You guys do realize that no one is to go beyond this point, right?"
Jack stepped forward through the ranks and drew his pistol, leveling it at Reece's abdomen. "Keep going."
"You don't understand, mate. That's Aborigine sacred ground just beyond those trees. Bad juju to go up there."
Sean and Tommy exchanged a curious, sidelong glance. They weren't sure if Reece was serious or just trying to catch a breather. There was no way Jack was going to let them stop now, sacred ground or not.
"You and your friends said what we're looking for is up there on the top of that mountain. Now either you're lying, or you're not. So, I can kill you right now and leave all three of you here for the animals to feast on, or you can lead on."
Reece looked back at the two Americans. He sighed. "Okay, mate. It's your funeral."
"Soon—"
"Soon it will be ours?" Sean cut Jack off before he could finish his sentence. "Clever. Thank you so much for that."
Jack spun around with fury in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and then marched ahead behind Reece.
Sean started moving forward. He didn't look at his friend as he spoke. "You'd think these villains would have some original material every once in a while."
Reece reached the edge of the woods and paused for a second. He looked down one side of the boundary and then the other before glancing back at Sean and Tommy.
He had a genuinely scared look on his face, not from the guns pointed at him but from something else. It was almost as if he believed the place was haunted.
"What's the holdup?" Jack asked. "Get on with it."
"Spirits," Reece said. "Spirits of the ancient ones are here."
He looked like he'd seen a ghost, the color in his skin fading to a pale ash.
"There'll be one more if you don't move."
Reece lifted his foot and set it down on the leaves just beyond the meadow. He let out a sigh of relief and then took another step, then another. Gradually, he picked up speed until he was deep inside the forest once more.
The climb steepened for a short while, pushing the travelers to their maximum capacity. Tommy wavered back and forth as he pressed on. He'd almost reached the point of delirium. Sean knew if he didn't get some water soon, he'd probably collapse. They'd not had anything to drink since yesterday, not that he knew of at least. He doubted their captors had taken the time to give them liquids while they slumbered in a drug-induced sleep.
Tommy tripped on a root and fell to the ground. He stayed down for a minute, his breath coming in heavy, labored groans.
"Get him up," Jack ordered to the guards.
Two of the men rushed to Tommy's sides and picked him up, wedging their forearms under his armpits. Tommy wobbled for a second, and Sean stepped up close behind him.
"Let me take his pack," Sean said.
Tommy tried to protest but couldn't muster the energy.
Jack eyed Sean suspiciously as he considered the offer.
"Fine," he said after half a minute. "Give him his friend's pack."
One of the guards slipped Tommy out of the bag and dropped it at Sean's feet. The man stepped back cautiously, keeping his assault rifle aimed at the former agent. It was the guy Sean had been staring at in the back of the truck. Sean tipped his head upward at the guy and fired the same sardonic smirk as he'd done before.
The guard swallowed, trying to keep the stern look on his face. It was too late. The guy was already beaten. Now all Sean needed was the cards to play.
Near the top of the mountain, the ground began to gradually level off. There wasn't much to see in the way of the surrounding countryside. The trees and vegetation around the summit had grown so thick it was nearly impossible to see off the mountain. A large rock formation stood in a small clearing on the other side of the peak. The cleared area couldn't have been more than forty feet across on all sides. Smaller rocks littered the ground near the trees.
Reece slowed his pace as he drew closer to the clearing and stopped short next to a stand of skinny trees. He stared into the rough circle at something in the center.
The others gathered around and immediately caught sight of what had Reece's attention. Tommy was still gasping for air, but he'd recovered enough in
the last minute of easy walking to take a look at the anomaly.
A massive flat stone lay across the ground in the middle of the circle. On it was carved a long, skinny figure holding a boomerang over its head. Dark hands surrounded the being, outlined by white.
Sean looked over at Tommy and then at Reece.
"What next?"
Tommy took a cautious step forward and examined the stone. He crouched down to one knee and ran a finger over the smooth surface. He craned his neck and surveyed the area, wondering if there were any other drawings or anything that might be a clue to another step in their journey. He found nothing.
He stood up and turned around to face the group.
"Is this it?" Jack asked, motioning to the big rock with his pistol.
Tommy swallowed. His throat was parched. He needed water badly but managed to say one sentence. "Yeah, I think it might be."
Jack puckered his lips and nodded, scanning the stone from one end to the other. "Okay. Let's get you boys some tools so you can start digging."
35
Yengo National Park
If the two Americans thought the climb to the mountain summit was grueling, digging up the enormous stone was the cherry on top. The slab had to weigh a couple of tons. There was no telling how long it had been there, not without some of the standard equipment Tommy usually brought on a dig.
Research suggested that some Aboriginal settlements had been established in Australia as long as forty thousand years ago. While Tommy wasn't sure if the dating was correct, there was no question the Aborigines were some of the earliest people to roam the earth. Now they were looking at a stone that by all rights had been put there at the dawn of human civilization.
Unfortunately for the three companions, digging away the dirt and rock from such a long time ago took an incredible amount of effort. Two hours in, they'd only managed to dig a foot-deep ditch around the slab.
They stopped to take a break for a couple of minutes and get a quick drink. Jack wasn't stupid. He knew enough to know that thirsty workers were slow workers. So he'd allowed regular hydration breaks for his prisoners to make sure they'd keep going at a steady pace.
The blazing summer sun was high in the sky when the men reached the two-foot mark. Tommy's shirt was almost completely soaked from sweat. Sean and Reece, too, were covered in perspiration. Sean's hands and fingers were dotted with blisters from working with the wooden-handled tools. Years of working as a field agent and then as head of IAA security had kept him from doing his fair share of manual labor. As a result, the skin on his hands grew soft over time. Now he was paying the price. Every motion with the shovel or the pick resulted in a painful sting.
Late in the afternoon, the prisoners were exhausted. They'd had no food and barely enough water to keep them safe from heatstroke. Jack and his guards had been content to sit in the shade the entire time, keeping a careful watch on the men doing the digging. Of course, the overseers had plenty of food and water. They flaunted it, carelessly splashing water on the ground and dropping crumbs all over the place.
"Look at them," Tommy grumbled. "Sitting over there in the shade, eating that food right in front of us." He nearly drooled even though the food was just a bunch of granola bars. "I don't suppose you have any ideas?"
Sean focused on the earth at his feet. "At the moment, there isn't much we can do."
"You're like the king of getting out of these kinds of situations, man. Surely you can think of something."
"Sorry, buddy. Sometimes even the best need a little luck."
"I don't think being here is going to bring any of us good luck," Reece said. "We're on sacred land. And we're digging up something that is probably the most sacred thing in the world to the Aborigines. None of that bodes well for us. If there are ancestral spirits around here, they'll not be happy."
"Pretty sure there's no such thing as ancestral spirits," Tommy said as he wiped his forehead. He'd stopped sweating profusely three hours ago when dehydration started setting in.
"Believe what you want, mate. There's a reason Aborigine land goes untouched by the rest of civilization."
Jack stood up from where he was sitting on a small boulder and strode toward the three diggers. "Less talk and more digging, gents. It'll be getting dark here in a few hours. I'd like to have Mr. Holmes's prize before then."
"Maybe you could get down here and dig a few minutes then," Tommy muttered.
"What was that?"
"I said we need more water and maybe something to eat, then."
Jack was holding a packet with a half-eaten granola bar and another full one. "I suppose you do need to eat. You'll probably work faster. Here you go." He took the two bars and tossed them into the dirt at Tommy's feet. "Eat up, and then get back to digging."
Tommy eagerly grabbed the granola from the ground like he'd been tossed a filet mignon. He held the half bar out to Reece, who gratefully accepted and nearly put the entire thing in his mouth at once. Tommy broke the other bar in half and offered it to Sean.
"Here, man. You need to eat."
Sean shook his head. "Not hungry," he said and kept digging.
"You have to be hungry. We haven't had anything to eat all day."
Sean stayed focused on his task. "Go ahead," he said. "Eat it. You're probably starving."
Tommy stared at his friend for a minute, thinking Sean might change his mind. He never did.
While Tommy ate the granola bar, Sean took another swing with his mattock and pulled back the dirt just as he'd done for the majority of the day. He repeated the process once more and froze. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. It was no hallucination.
The giant stone slab was around two feet thick. Sean had reached the dirt beneath the rock almost half an hour before, but that was at the other end of the side he was working. Standing in the center, he could see a gap between the slab and the dirt below.
He swallowed, though nothing but dry air went down his throat. Sean leaned over and gripped the mattock closer to the head. He rode the wave of renewed energy coursing through his body and chipped away vigorously at the dirt. It fell away more easily now, and in minutes he'd opened up a gaping hole nearly two feet across and about that deep.
Tommy finished his granola bar while watching his friend. "You okay?" he asked.
"I think I found it."
Tommy dragged his shovel around to the other side where Sean was working. Reece stopped what he was doing and looked into the cavity.
Jack had walked back to his boulder to sit down. At first he didn't notice the prisoners' being distracted. Seeing the three men staring down at the slab, however, caused renewed irritation to rise up inside him.
"What are you three doing? I said to get back to work." He'd just sat down, so getting back up added to his frustration.
"We found something," Sean said. He let the mattock fall to the ground next to his feet.
Jack twisted his head to the side, suspicious it might be a trick. He stepped back toward the rock and motioned for the three prisoners to move away, waving his pistol in the direction he wanted. "Step back." He turned to three of his guards and ordered them to keep a close eye on the captives.
Sean and the others climbed out of their trench and moved into the clear so Jack could get in and have a closer look.
He hopped down into the ditch, bracing himself with one hand atop the stone. He leaned down and looked into the hole, shining a light from his cell phone inside. "There's a stone box in here," he said, brimming with excitement.
Jack grabbed the mattock lying next to him and pulled more dirt away from the opening until there was enough room to belly crawl inside.
The guards and the three prisoners watched as Jack wiggled into the hole to the point where only his legs from the knees down were visible.
"I see something," he said. There was no containing the man's excitement. Reece's eyes were hollow as he stared into the opening. Tommy had a similar expression.
> Sean, however, was keeping an eye on the forest. He'd heard something. It was subtle—some leaves rustling, a twig snapping. None of the guards noticed. The trees were so dense, it was difficult to see between the seemingly endless rows.
There, he thought. Something moved. Or was he hallucinating? His stomach ached, and his mouth felt like it was full of chalk. It was possible his mind was playing tricks on him. That sort of thing happened all the time to people stranded in the desert. They thought they saw oases with shade and water. In this case, Sean was seeing what he wanted to see. But it was a ghost, a figment of his imagination. Or was it?
He stole a quick look at the guard nearest him to the left. It was the guy he'd been across from in the back of the truck, the one in whom Sean had planted the seeds of madness.
Over his shoulder, in a hushed tone, Sean whispered, "Do you see the spirits?"
The guy's head twitched, and he clenched his weapon a little tighter. He said nothing.
"Can you hear them? They're coming. They're coming to protect what belongs to them."
The guard blinked rapidly and took a wary step back. "Quiet," he ordered. It was the first time the guy had said anything. His accent was distinctly Eastern European.
Sean's delirium only served to heighten the madness in his tone. "It won't matter how quiet I am, or any of us. We are on sacred land. The spirits are coming."
Tommy looked over his shoulder at his friend, wondering what he was going on about. He only caught the last few words, but his initial thought was that Sean had lost it.
Under the slab, Jack's legs jerked back and forth. "I...I think I've got it!" he shouted. "It's...beautiful. And it's really heavy."
Sean paid no attention to the former rugby player. He was locked in on his victim now.
The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4 Page 25
