by K. T. Tomb
After its arrival in Germany, there had been much uproar in the ranks of the Nazis regarding the Ivory Bow. I had subconsciously made enemies that I was not capable of fighting. The bow was taken from me for “examination,” and it took me a long while to get it back to safety. Then, the war had started, and I was all but forgotten amidst the extermination and bloodshed. Four years later, I cannot help but feel wary of the effect of it all. At least the bow is safe.
Alas, if I had thought that my troubles were over due to my obscurity from the Nazis, I was refuted by the Freemasons. How they came to know about The Ivory Bow I will never know, but their determination to procure it scares and angers me.
Say what they may, I know that the true reason Germany fell to a stature lower than most after the first war was because of the Freemasons. They all but live for oblivion. I even suspect that they were conspiring with the Catholics and the Jews to acquire what they have hankered after since their inception, which just happens to be the destruction of Irminists.
This is not a recent war at all. I have witnessed destruction at the hands of the Freemasons for many years. It was their ancestors who pillaged the holy temple of Goslar and forced the early Irminists out on the streets. Circumstances have not improved since then. Robbing us of our God and scriptures was not enough for them; so, they started persecuting us. Many fellow brothers of mine have fallen prey to their tricks and torture.
Now, they seek the one thing I gave my life to, and would protect with it. I live in fear that I will meet the same fate my unfortunate brothers did. Once the Freemasons decide on something, they stop at nothing to acquire it. I know they will come knocking at my door sooner or later and so my life is in grave danger.
But I swore to protect the bow with my life, and that is what I will do. Thus, I have escorted it to safety by risking my own life. As afraid as I am these days, I cannot disagree that my oblivion provides me with a stark advantage. I can sneak through the halls and crowded streets without being recognized. Thus, I was able to get the bow to protection in the place where I had been reborn, where I started this journey of self-discovery and spiritual awareness.
I joined the Schlaraffia in 1889 and had many friends by the time I had left. I know I can trust these people. They have become my comrades in my voyage and would go the ends of the Earth to help me. Thus, I have brought my journey to close at the very point it started. The bow rests safely now in the depths of the Lodge’s establishments. I have appointed them as guardians and possessors of it in case something should happen to me. As brave and cruel as the Masons are, I know they will never think of the Lodge when hunting for the bow.
The time may not be right now, but it will come. The Irminists will come back, and our legacy will be stronger than ever.
Chapter One
“God, could it get any hotter?”
Sirita’s monologue—that had gone from being just an inner one to full blown ranting—disrupted Chyna’s thoughts. She rolled her eyes at her present partner in crime, but could not help agreeing with her. Mexico City was blistering hot, and Chyna had just about had enough of the dirt.
“Yes, well, we have work, don’t we?” Chyna smiled tightly at her and pressed the buttons to unlock the Land Rover. She got in on the driver’s side while Sirita pummeled the air conditioning controls with her fingers. As Chyna turned the key in the ignition, the doors clicked shut and the car roared to life; so did the AC vents. She put the vehicle in drive while Sirita fanned herself and let out a huge sigh of relief as the car started moving.
When Chyna drove off, she could see the image of the Chapultepec Castle in her rearview mirror. Her mind was swirling with theories, but that could very well have been the effect of the late nights she’d been having. Maybe bringing Tony with her on the trip this time had not been such a good idea after all. But with Lana already on her honeymoon with Ted, and Mark Gunnar still being as green as new hay, they had needed the manpower.
Almost immediately, the light bulb in Chyna’s mind went on as she remembered she and Sirita were supposed to meet the boys after their respective missions. So far, their search for Montezuma’s treasure was going slower than Chyna would have liked. She hunted for her Bluetooth headset and dialed Tony’s number on her phone. He picked up almost instantly.
“Hey, Babe,” his voice came through the receiver. “I was just going to call you.”
Chyna marveled distractedly at how different F.B.I. Agent Anthony Stewart sounded from her Tony.
“Well, saved you the trouble. How far along are you?”
“Nowhere, really. Everything that we’ve found out about the treasure seems to be pure conjecture and little guesses here and there. I don’t think we’ve found a single piece of valid proof of the treasure ever bring real. Did you make any headway?”
“Sadly, no. We just left the National History Museum in Chapultepec. There is all sorts of stuff from after the Spanish Inquisition. I asked the curator and the authorities about any theories and they told me some snippets, but other than that, it was nothing that we don’t already know.”
“Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s all just a hoax,” Tony said, and Chyna was about to interrupt him when he spoke again. “I mean, we have been at this for about two weeks. We should have found something by now.”
“Maybe it exists. Maybe it doesn’t. But that in no way means that we should stop looking for it. We’ll keep at it, Tony. There must be something. There has to be.” Chyna shook her head, determination stark on her face.
“You know I’ve never won an argument with you, but I like that kind of losing,” Tony said, and as stressed as Chyna was, she could not resist laughing at that.
“That was cheesy and you know it,” she chortled.
“Ah, just thought I’d try. I’m guessing it didn’t work very well.” Tony laughed right along with her.
“No, it doesn’t.” Chyna was smiling. “We’ll meet you back at the hotel?”
“Absolutely, drive safe.”
“You too; bye.” Chyna nodded to no one and hung up. She kept driving toward their destination for a while until she noticed Sirita smiling at her.
“What?” Chyna looked at her.
“Nothing, it’s just that in the time I’ve known you, our interaction was mostly online, so I still find it strange seeing you like that.” Her partner grinned at her.
“Whatever.” Chyna resisted the urge to stick her tongue out. “Let’s get back to work, shall we? Sum up what we know.”
Sirita nodded and switched into work mode. She knew Chyna would never let anything stand in the way of work, and she admired her for that.
“There is a lot of information out there on Montezuma, but nothing specifically on his treasure. Montezuma the Second, also known as Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin in ancient Nahautl texts, was the ruler of Tenochtitlan and reigned for about eighteen years.
“His reign was one of the better times for the Aztec empire, and the civilization reached its maximum size during his time. He even included the Zapotec and Yopi people into his kingdom. I think some of the places that we can start from are the ancient Chiapas and Tehuantepec. They fell under his reign during the fifteen hundreds.
“He died during the time of the Spanish conquest of Mexico. The then invader, Hernán Cortés, fought alongside his men at the capital of Tenochtitlan, killing Montezuma in the process. One of the theories about the treasure stems from that war.”
Sirita stopped speaking for a moment and shuffled for something in her bag. After looking for a while, she brought out a small notebook which contained what looked like notes in various colored inks. Chyna marveled at her team member’s efficiency and insistence on writing down everything to be used at the right moment.
“Here it is. It’s said that Montezuma was captured by the Spanish during their invasion of Mexico. They were demanding a ransom of gold, but Montezuma wouldn’t have that. So, he dispatched a group of runners to inform the tribes to hide their gold. This story points th
e compass to Casa Grande back in Arizona. It’s said that the labyrinth at the Casa Grande Ruins National Museum might be where a part of the treasure is buried, but nothing has been found to date.”
Chyna took in all of the information, ruminating over her own theories about the Apache Wars and plotting possible locations in her mind. She and her team had already fallen behind schedule and they needed to restart as quickly as possible.
Supposedly, a Mexican aristocrat named Don Joaquin enslaved the local Apaches during the Mexican American War and ordered them to dig up gold. However, when the United States finally breached Mexican borders, the Apaches rebelled, forcing the Mexicans to hide all of their gold somewhere in the mountains. Most of them were later slaughtered by the Apaches, but one of them survived and went back for the treasure. He was never able to find it though, since the Apaches still controlled the area.
Chyna sighed internally. They were spinning in circles here, and it was really starting to get on her nerves. As uncharacteristic as it was for her, she wanted to scream at someone, or at this boggling case. Her stream of thoughts, however, was interrupted when she noticed a black sedan behind her Rover. Had it been there when they set out?
“Sirita,” Chyna called to her teammate, “can you see the black sedan behind us?”
Chyna didn’t have to wait for an answer. Sirita had noticed it at about the same time.
“What do you think?” Chyna kept her eyes on the road and sped up just a little. If someone was following them, she did not want to tip him or her off.
The cat and mouse game continued for some time. Chyna was on edge, and she didn’t know Mexico City well enough to just turn onto any random street. That could go south very quickly and in a very bad way. So, Chyna kept driving in a straight line, hoping to find some semblance of civilization soon. Come to think of it, Chepultepec Forest was fairly deserted today, and that worried her.
“Chyna, I think its best we call Tony and the boys and alert them,” Sirita called out suddenly, “Another car just joined the one following us, and they’re speeding up.”
Sure enough, Chyna could now see two cars following her own. By the time she reached for the phone and dialed Tony’s number, the number had escalated to four.
“It’s Motta!” Tony said from the other end before Chyna could say anything. His strained voice was a perfect reflection of what Chyna was feeling in that moment. “We have cars after us as well. I was just about to call you.”
“How do we know it’s him?” Chyna asked, pushing down further on the accelerator as the cars behind them sped up. She was now going a hundred.
“See the steel symbols on the front? They are his trademark. Head straight for the airport; we’ve got to get out of here now.”
“We can’t just leave like this. We have to throw them off. All our stuff is back in the hotel.” Chyna forced herself not to panic. The same couldn’t be said for Sirita, though. She looked pale and terrified.
“It’s all been taken care of. We had already arrived there when we noticed them. That’s why we left. And sweetheart, I don’t think they would bring out an armada like this so we could throw them off. They mean business this time,” Tony said, and in the distance Chyna heard the screeching sound of a car swerving. Her heart raced, and she was now in full escape mode. Her foot pushed down on the pedal with all her might, destination be damned. She would be lucky if she and her team got out of this alive. Her encounters with Diego Motta in the last two weeks had been tense to say the least, but Chyna had never thought he would resort to such measures to drive her out of the city.
Diego Motta was a local crime lord who owned almost half of Mexico through his drug and smuggling rings. Chyna might not have found out much in the time that they had been there, but what she had discovered had destroyed a large part of the network that Motta had built with twenty years of blood, sweat and tears. Apparently, Diego Motta used several of the abandoned sites outside of the city as stash houses for his shipments and ammunition. With Tony’s assistance and contacts in the local force, Chyna had been able to hand over millions of dollars’ worth of cocaine and other drugs to the police in a matter of three days.
However, she had found out too late that Diego Motta was a man who always collected his due. All of his men who had been caught had ended up dead in jail the next day, and his declarations of war against Chyna and her team had not been empty exultations. Two days later, Chyna had gotten a very verbal message that said that Motta would pay her back by getting rid of Chyna and her team for good. Their radio silence over the next few days had somehow lulled Chyna into a state of false assurance, but now that they were under threat, the slumber had been broken and the reality was not something that she relished.
As if in confirmation, a bullet whizzed past Chyna’s side of the car and blew off the side view mirror.
“Shit. Chyna? Was that a crash I heard?” Tony’s voice asked from the other end.
“Yes! They shot the side mirror off!”
Chyna sped her car up, and the steering wheel swerved a little under her hand. Damn it, why did her palms feel so slippery? Chyna heard the screeching of the tires again.
“Oscar, everything all right back there?” Tony asked.
Oscar’s voice was faint coming from the phone and then all of what he was saying was drowned out as Sirita suddenly took the wheel from Chyna and swerved it to their left. Almost instantly, Chyna felt an impact and a thump. They had toppled one of Motta’s cars over.
Chyna struggled to keep the car back onto its path, all the while hearing similar commotion from the other end of the phone. She disconnected the headset and put the phone on speaker. The sounds of automobile altercation filled the car and doubled the intensity of the moment. In her field of vision, Chyna saw a bullet hit the pole she had just narrowly passed. Luck was not going to be on her side today.
“What’s happening over there?! Tony, talk to me!” Chyna shouted over the sounds of cars and bullets all around them.
“Chyna, we need to get out of here! Mark! Take my gun! Hurry!”
Tony’s voice resounded in Chyna’s head.
“Tony, dodge them and head on North to Reynosa!” Sirita screamed at the speaker. “We have to cross the border fast and then we can worry about air transport back to El Paso. Let’s lose these suckers but whatever you do, don’t hang up the phone!”
“Roger that, Siri!”
Tony didn’t waste any time. They had to get out of harm’s way immediately. They knew, and their attackers knew that the nearest border town was a full eleven hour’s drive away.
Chyna asked Siri for the directions and gunned it; she was determined to get out of there and make it back across the border. Another bullet hit their car and this time, a part of the rear glass shattered. The shit had officially hit the fan and it was splattering everywhere. Chyna kept on driving and then, as if by divine intervention, she spotted a turn that was coming up on her right. Without thinking, she turned into the narrow street and kept gunning the Land Rover. In the rearview mirror, she watched Motta’s cars as they sped past the turn.
Chyna knew they didn’t have much time. Their pursuers must have seen her turning and would soon follow the car to herd it back toward the main thoroughfare. The speed at which they had been following her had not allowed them to turn when she had. Chyna knew that they needed to ditch the car if they wanted to make it out of there alive; she did the best thing she could think of at that moment.
Spotting a large trash receptacle, she sped up and drove the Rover into the smelly cornucopia, knowing that the crash would produce a commotion that would bring people out of the nearby shops into the street. The crowd would provide a cover and give her and Sirita some time to make their escape. Thankfully, Sirita’s brilliant mind came right into step with Chyna’s as soon as the car came to a halt. The next thing she knew was that they were running through the narrow street toward a small garment store that people were just starting to run out of. In the distance, th
ey heard the screeching of multiple vehicles. Motta’s men had caught up with them.
Sirita shouted something in Spanish with just enough fervor to spring the people crowding the street into action. The crowd ran toward the wreck, while she pulled Chyna out of the way and into the store in the nick of time. They didn’t stop there. Sirita led them to the back of the shop, right toward a section that was filled with summer dresses. She pulled two off the racks and tossed one to Chyna while the latter watched in wonder.
“What’s happened to you?” she asked. “I can’t believe how on your toes you are.”
“I don’t want to die today,” Sirita shrugged, out of breath. She didn’t wait for Chyna to reply as she pulled open the door to a fitting room and got in.
In the next moment, Chyna snapped into action, stepping into a changing room herself where she ditched her own jeans and shirt and put the flowery dress on. It fell below her knees and was something she would never wear, but she knew she had no choice. When she came out, Sirita was already waiting for her with two blonde wigs. Chyna didn’t question her. She balled up her black hair into a tight knot and pulled one of the wigs on.
“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” she said to Sirita, while the latter was undergoing her own transformation. “What did you say to them?”
“I thought learning the basics would come in handy someday.” Sirita shrugged. “I told them that the driver had crashed the car and ran away, and that we thought someone was still in there. Are there any hats here?”
Chyna looked around and spotted some large ones on a rack in the back. Given the summer heat, they would not raise much suspicion. As she took them down and passed one on to Sirita, she spotted their phones and wallets in a small bag on the floor.
“Wow, you work fast,” Chyna whistled in appreciation and Sirita smiled. She lived for such moments, and the day had had a lot of them.
