by Hep Aldridge
“Once again, a lot of variables out there, so we’ll just have to be on our A-game at all times once the plan is put into motion and be ready for anything,” I stated.
“Agreed,” Doc said, “if not, somebody will pay a hefty price.”
“I just hope we’re not lighting a fuse to something that could blow up in our faces,” Joe added.
Dimitri slapped him on the back and said, “Not to worry, Joe; remember, I’m the one that makes things go boom around here,” and laughed.
The next day, the call was made. We left a message for Senor Mendez that we were back in town and looked forward to seeing him. Later that afternoon, there was an invitation to dinner Monday evening waiting for us at the front desk. Cocktails at six p.m., dinner at 7:00, and he would send a car to pick us up.
“That didn’t take long,” I said to the group, relaying the information.
“The bait has been taken,” O’Reilly quipped, “now, it’s time to set the hook,” she said with a smile.
“I didn’t know you liked to fish,” I said to her.
“Only for sharks,” she replied, still smiling.
The rest of the weekend was spent getting our gear and provisions together for our trek to the mountains. I let Reggie know, and she said she would be ready to go whenever we called.
“Good,” I said, “I would like to get out of Dodge by Wednesday, if possible, but I will talk with you again once we finish our meeting with Mendez.”
“I’ll be ready,” she replied and broke the connection.
I called Uncle Harold and brought him up to speed on our plan. He said, “Let’s meet Sunday afternoon, same bar we met at last time.” I agreed, and we set 4:00 p.m. as our meeting time. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening prepping for our trip. Around 9:00 p.m., we all met downstairs in the restaurant for a late dinner.
As our meal progressed, Doc said, “So, we meet with Mendez, smile, and make nice, drop our bit of information about the stranger’s interest in us, then what?”
“I’m sure he will want to know our plans in a general sort of way, of course,” I said, “so, we let him know we are heading into the mountains with no real new leads. We need to keep him thinking we’re just a bunch of rich adventure types—out for thrills and notoriety and all that.”
“Do you think he’ll still buy that?” Dimitri asked.
“I hope so; we need to be convincing, maybe even flippant about it. Now that we’re rich, we just want to keep our names in the paper.”
“Stay in the spotlight, as it were,” Joe said.
“Yeah, we may be able to appeal to his ego, which we know is huge, and make him think we’re the same way,” O’Reilly added, “while making him feel like he’s the smartest person in the room.”
“That might make us seem less of a threat. I don’t know; it’s hard to guess what this guy is thinking. Suppose he is the head of this Brotherhood. In that case, he’s no dummy, but if his machismo kicks in, he might be gullible enough that we could buy ourselves some time and divert his attention to the competition from the Europeans; rather than what we might be onto.”
“We’d have to be pretty darn lucky to pull that off,” Doc said.
“And good actors,” Joe added.
Chapter Six
I picked up the room phone on its fourth ring, “Hello.”
“Dr. Burnett?”
“Yes,” I replied to a voice I did not recognize. “This is he.”
“Dr. Burnett, this is Giuseppe Tagliano. You don’t know me, but it is urgent that I speak with you as soon as possible.”
If the name hadn’t given it away, the Italian accent would have. “Mr. Tagliano, how can I help you?” I replied cautiously.
“No, Dr. Burnett, this cannot be discussed over the phone, and I don’t have much time; we must meet as soon as possible.”
Now, my Spidey sense went into full tingly mode, an Italian wanting to meet right away. This could be our first encounter with the men Paco had warned us about. But there was something about his voice—it sounded scared, not what I would expect from our professional “friends.” Maybe that was part of the ruse. I knew I had to be careful.
“I need to know what this is about before I agree to a meet.”
“Senor, it concerns your search and your safety… and the Jesuit priests.”
Okay, now, he had my undivided attention. “My safety?”
“Si, Signore, and much, much more. Please, I implore you; we must meet.”
“All right, where and when?”
“Tomorrow morning, I have left a message for you at the front desk with the time and location. Again, Dr. Burnett, this is of the utmost urgency.”
“Fine,” I said, “tomorrow morning.”
“Gratzi, gratzi,” he said, and after the slightest of pauses, “and, Dr. Burnett, make sure you are not followed.” Then the line went dead.
As I hung up the phone, I thought, what the hell. What kind of briar patch are we being thrown into now? I picked up the phone and called Doc and the crew and told them to meet me in my room in 30 minutes. I hung up and went down to the front desk. Just as he had said, I had a message. I didn’t look at it until I got back to my room. It said meet 11:00 a.m. Parque Calderon, bench by central pine tree, nothing more…?
Thirty minutes later, the team started showing up. As they gathered around the table in my sitting room, I placed the note in the center.
“Well, folks, here we go again. I just received a strange phone call from a Giuseppe Tagliano. He said he wants to meet with me; it’s very important.”
Doc was reading the note and said what I had thought, “Who is this guy?”
“I don’t know; guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” I answered as he passed the note around.
“You know this could be a trap. These new guys in town may be setting you up,” Joe said.
“I thought of that, but something in this guy’s voice says he’s for real—either that or a damn good actor. He sounded scared and nervous. He also said for me to make sure I wasn’t followed. Not something I think these new guys would say.”
“No, I don’t think they would,” Dimitri said, “but what the hell could this be about?”
“Are you really going to meet him?” O’Reilly asked. “I know you said you believed him, but…?”
“This seems all too coincidental, and I’m sure it’s not. So, yeah, I’m going to meet with him and see what he has to say. Doc, I want you along. We were at this park in our early orientation visit to the city back a year or so ago, so it’s not totally unfamiliar turf, and it is in the main city square. There are three tall pine trees in the park; our meet will be on the bench by the middle one. This is a very public place and not someplace I would plan an ambush. But just in case, I want the rest of you to position yourselves there before the meet time and make sure you have a clear line of sight to the bench he’s talking about and the area around it. And, yes, we need to be carrying just in case this does go sideways; we all need to be armed.”
All agreed, and although not completely happy with me meeting this guy, they said they would be ready. We spent the next hour looking at our city map and Google Earth to determine the best vantage points. With that completed, we headed out to Diego’s place for drinks and dinner, all running scenarios and responses through our heads and not speaking.
Dinner was good, as always, and soon our talk turned to more speculating about tomorrow’s meeting.
“So,” Doc began, “I wonder if this guy has a connection to our new guys in town. As you said, Colt, this all seems like too much to be coincidental, but if not, what’s the connection?”
“Vatican mercs checking us out, a new Italian stranger saying he has to talk with you just about the time we are leaving for the mountains… they’re related; I’d bet money on it,” Dimitri said.
I had to agree with Dimitri; this was too much for coincidence. But where would it lead?
“I agree,” I said, “but we’l
l deal with tomorrow… tomorrow. For now, let’s talk about our trip to the mountains.”
We spent the next hour going over the plan. We would drive to the farm and park like last time. We would rent or buy mules or llamas from Senor Mata. Since we were sure this would be more than just a few days’ trip, we needed to pack provisions and supplies accordingly. More than we could carry, so four-legged help was going to be a necessity. On our last trip to Tamara’s village, Joe had tagged waypoints and plotted our route on our master GPS unit, so we wouldn’t need a guide to find our way back. According to what the priest had said, the elders had said their old village was a two-day walk from Tamara’s village, and we knew from the first journal that the city of the gods was about a day’s hike. So, that meant we had at least a five- or six-day hike to the site of the old village, and then we had to find the city, another day’s climb if one knew the way, which we did not.
A week to two weeks’ hike in, find the city and same time hiking out. That meant a full month in the mountains. Not going to be easy, I thought. And who knew what we might encounter on the trip besides the usual hazards of hiking through hostile terrain. We all pondered this information in silence as reality sank in.
“Well, we’ve come this far,” Doc said. “We knew it wasn’t going to be easy, so time to suck it up, put on our game faces, and do it.”
“Agreed,” I said, “Once more into the breech, dear friends…”
Dimitri interrupted me and said, “Enough with the breech crap; we just need to make sure we have enough ammo and food. The rest will take care of itself.” After a few seconds, we all laughed and agreed. Leave it to Dimitri, ammo first, food second! A guy’s gotta keep his priorities in line.
“I say, let’s call it a night. We have a full day tomorrow, and I want everybody to be frosty.”
O’Reilly agreed, as did the others. We paid our tab and headed back to the hotel.
Breakfast was at 8:00 a.m.; we went over details, and the team took the Beast and headed for the Parque Calderon around 9:30. Doc and I would be taking a taxi, so we kicked back and had another cup of coffee. At 10:15, we went out front, hailed a cab, and headed to the meeting. The Parque was about 20 to 30 minutes from our hotel, and we made the ride in silence.
We arrived to find a beehive of activity. There were plenty of visitors enjoying the park on this Sunday morning or just passing through it on their way to other destinations. We walked into the park grounds slowly, admiring the sights and sounds as any tourist might. The spires of the Catedral de la Immaculada provided an impressive backdrop to the park’s foliage. We spotted the designated bench; a woman and two small children occupied it. We walked over and stood as if admiring the surroundings while trying to find our team in the crowd. We had Comms, so after a minute, I said, “Guys?”
Dimitri’s voice came back, “We’ve got you covered.”
I looked at Doc, nodded, and sat down on the bench. He sat next to me, and we waited. The woman with the kids was fussing, trying to get them under control as they ran around laughing and playing. I looked at my watch; it was 10:55. I spotted a slight, elderly man approaching from the opposite side of the park. He was nervously looking around, and I heard O’Reilly say, “I think our man is approaching you from your three o’clock.”
“Copy,” I said quietly. The man approached the bench, looked at us, and kept walking as if out for a stroll through the park.
“Well, maybe not,” I said over the Comms.
“Nope, that’s him,” O’Reilly answered, “just wait.”
Doc and I started a conversation about the park and the church, continuing to scan the area casually. In a few minutes, the lady corralled her children, got up, and walked away, laughing and chatting with them as she went. In a few more minutes, I heard O’Reilly say, “Coming at you from your 12 o’clock.” I didn’t turn to look, just sat talking to Doc and taking in the sights. Moments later, our elderly gentleman came up to the bench and sat down. Our eyes met for a brief second. I guessed him to be in his 70s, gray hair, a small beard to match, and gold-framed glasses over eyes that shone bright, decrying their obvious age. He was dressed in a nondescript brown jacket and pants. Nothing about him would make you look twice, just another old man walking through the park. I casually looked his way again, as he did mine; he nodded and said, “Dr. Burnett.”
Turning back to the view, I said just loud enough for him to hear, “Yes, Mr. Tagliano, what can I do for you?”
He slid closer, so we could more easily talk without being overheard. “No, Signore, I believe it is what I can do for you.”
I paused and, without looking at him, said, “And what might that be?”
“A warning, Signore, possibly a lifesaving warning.”
Still without looking, “I’m listening.”
“You have gotten yourself into something that may be beyond your comprehension, and I’m afraid it could prove deadly for you and your friends.”
Now, I turned to look at him and said, “Don’t underestimate my level of comprehension or the tenacity of my friends… But do continue with your warning.”
He looked rather shocked at my response but continued, “Be that as it may, you are in danger. Men are looking for you who mean to harm you and your friends.”
I decided to play along and said, “And why would that be?”
“Because your quest for the library has put forces into motion that have lain dormant for many years—powerful forces that will not be stopped.”
I paused and said, “So, who are you, Mr. Tagilano, and how do you know these things?”
“I am a Prefect, Signore, a researcher and archivist at the Vatican library.”
“Interesting,” I said, “and how does a librarian come by this knowledge, and why do you bring it to me?” Thinking is this guy playing me…?
“I suppose one could refer to me as a librarian of sorts, but please, Signore, I apologize; let me start again.” He looked around the park like a scared rabbit looking for the fox and then went on. “I am a researcher and archivist at the Vatican Apostolic Archive.”
Chapter Seven
I sat with furrowed brow, not understanding, and turned to Doc to see him sitting there, eyes wide and mouth agape.
What the hell? “Doc,” I said in a low voice, “what’s going on?”
In an almost reverent whisper, he said to me, “Don’t you know? That’s the Vatican’s secret library.”
That surprised me, but I regained my composure as I turned back to our visitor. “All right, you have my attention; go on.”
“I have worked at the archive for 40 years researching, reviewing, and organizing books and documents. A year ago, I had a visit from a Cardinal bishop with a strange request. He wanted me to search for anything pertaining to our Jesuit priests coming to Ecuador and mentions of a lost library from the 1600s to 1700s. I assured him I would, and he told me to report any findings to him and no one else. Now, this is not as unusual as it might sound. There is always secret research going on in our section of the archive.”
“Your section of the archive?” I asked.
“Yes, the archive has many sections, some more sensitive than others. I happen to work in its most secret section. My section covers the more, shall we say, unusual topics and events. Very few have access to its information.”
So, a secret library within a library with secret sections within the secret library. No, I get it, not confusing at all. Just like one of those Russian nesting dolls, sort of… I guess. I was trying hard not to see the confounding humor in his statement and react. Then I started thinking about the CIA and other intelligence agencies with compartmentalized operational groups within the broader organization. Okay, so not as humorous as I first thought.
Getting my train of thought back on the rails, I said, “Okay, go on.”
“I began finding references to sending Jesuit priests into the mountains of Ecuador as early as 1603, with very few communications from them. Not until 1609 did
I find anything interesting. A priest by the name of Marconi sent a communication back to the pope that said he might have found what ‘they’ had been looking for.”
“And what was that?” I asked.
“He did not say, but I contacted the Cardinal bishop to inform him of what I had discovered. He seemed very excited and told me he needed more information and to continue looking. It was a month later when I found the second communication from Father Marconi, and then I knew why the Cardinal bishop was so excited.”
“And why was that?” I asked.
“The priest said he had been taken to a city in the mountains by local natives where the buildings put Rome’s to shame. The fair-skinned people that lived there had marvelous things, magical things that allowed them to appear and disappear at will, to float through the sky riding on clouds, and move huge carved stones as if they were feathers, and… they lived forever. He said they talked covertly of a vast library nearby, containing many wondrous things, including the secrets to their magic.”
Knowing these things to be true, I looked at the priest who had been speaking as a matter of fact and said, “You don’t sound surprised at these revelations.”
He chuckled and said, “Dr. Burnett, in my section, I have seen and read of things that would be impossible for you to believe. Drawings, photographs, and documents confirming that what man has deemed myth and legend have been, or are, in fact, very real.”
“Hmm,” I said, “too bad the library at Alexandria was lost. Between the two of you, that would be an amazing storehouse of information.”
The Prefect looked at me with just the hint of a smile and said, “Who said it was lost…?”
That revelation took me by surprise, and I looked at Doc, who was sitting there wide-eyed. What…? Is this guy kidding? Everything in history says it was destroyed. Looking back at him, I could see he was dead serious.
“Well,” I said, “I have access to information that confirms an advanced civilization from another world was inhabiting Earth, pre-dating man by tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years. They shaped Civilization as we know it and left a library of advanced knowledge hidden somewhere here in the Andes… You mean that kind of stuff?”
