The Fourth Prophecy

by Ernest Dempsey

  “Unfortunate? Interesting choice of words. Because right now, I’d say we’re the unfortunate ones.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? Um, we’re in a cage, in the mud, in the middle of a Mexican rain forest, surrounded by drug smugglers and guerrillas.”

  Sean snorted. “To be fair, we haven’t seen any of the rebels yet.”

  “Yet.”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to be half-full here.”

  “Well, while you’re trying to look on the bright side of life, maybe you can come up with a plan to get us out of here.”

  Tommy stood up as tall as he could. His head nearly hit the top of the cage. The confines were just high enough for him to stretch his spine and he took a few steps to get the circulation back in his legs. His feet stuck in the mud with every step, and he finally gave up due to the strain.

  “Relax. We’re going to be fine.”

  “Fine? They’re going to cut our heads off, Sean. Or worse.”

  “They’re not going to do anything of the sort.”

  Tommy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sound pretty sure about that. Care to share why?”

  “They’re going to take us into that tent over there,” Sean said, pointing at an army-green shelter on the far side of the camp. “They’ll question us, maybe even torture us a little.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I don’t either, but they’re not going to kill us. Especially if you tell them who you are.”

  “Me?” Tommy asked with wide eyes. “Why?”

  “They can do a quick internet search for you and see we’re not lying.”

  “What if they search for your name? I don’t think they’ll appreciate your previous line of work should that come up in the search results. Part B of the problem with your plan: How are they going to do an internet search out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  “They have a rudimentary satellite link in the same tent where they’ll do the questioning.”

  “How in the wide, Wide World of Sports do you know that?”

  Sean chuckled at the reference. “I noticed it on the way in. There’s a small dish in the back of the tent. I could see it from the slopes up there.” He motioned to the hill with a toss of his head. “It isn’t much, but it does the trick and is still probably faster than dial-up.”

  “Is there anything else you noticed on the way in? Maybe an omelet bar?”

  Sean snorted. “No, no omelet bar. But I did see where they put our gear.”

  “Same green tent?”

  “Actually, no. It’s in the—”

  “Gentlemen,” a familiar voice cut Sean off, and the two prisoners looked to the right.

  Osvaldo Martinez was stalking toward them like a hunter who’d just snared some big game.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we need to conduct some business.”

  Four men were following close behind Martinez. They carried a hodgepodge of automatic weapons slung over their shoulders.

  “Taking us in for questioning?” Sean asked. He already knew the answer.

  “Very astute of you. Yes. We’ll be conducting our interview over in that green tent on the other side of camp.”

  Tommy cast a sidelong glance at his friend, wondering how he could have possibly known that.

  Sean didn’t return the look, instead staring straight ahead at Martinez.

  “We already told you everything you need to know,” Sean said. “You know…you could dispense with torturing us for answers and just do a quick search online for my friend here. You’ll discover everything we said is true. He runs an archaeological agency in Atlanta. Once you do that, you’ll know we aren’t lying, and you can let us go free.”

  Martinez laughed from the bottom of his belly. He put his hands on his hips and leaned back, looking up at the trees as he enjoyed the moment. Then the laughter died, and he peered deep into Sean’s eyes.

  “Do you think that’s why I’m keeping you? Because you might be with one of our government agencies? I’m not keeping you for that. You’re here because the two of you are worth a hefty price. Based on what you just told me, I’d wager I can get even more than I originally thought.”

  “If you think anyone’s going to pay for my head, you’re gravely mistaken,” Sean said. “No one wants me.”

  Martinez cocked his head back, gazing at Sean over his bottom eyelids. He was clearly sizing up the American to see if there was an ounce of truth in what he said. Not that it mattered. Martinez had no intention of letting the two Americans go. If he couldn’t sell them, he’d just shoot them and toss their bodies in the river.

  “Just because no one wants you doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, eh?” Martinez said.

  “Eh? What are you, Canadian now?” Tommy joked.

  The smuggler clearly didn’t understand the joke, so he ignored it. “I have to admit, the two of you have courage. We’ll see how much courage you have once we begin cutting off your fingers, legs, and arms and sending them back to your loved ones. Or you could be honest with me and tell me what you’re doing here, and maybe I don’t cut off anything.”

  “I already told you,” Tommy started to explain.

  Sean cut him off. “We’re looking for an ancient treasure. There. Happy?”

  Martinez looked skeptical. “Treasure? What kind of treasure?”

  Tommy shook his head. “Don’t tell this buffoon about the treasure, Sean. We’ve worked too hard to give up and let an idiot like him take it.”

  The smuggler did his best to look offended. He tilted his head to the side and stared at Tommy with curiosity. “You know, Tommy, it’s rude to say things like that to your host. I gave you two my best cage, and this is how you repay my generosity?”

  “I’d hate to see what the worst cage looks like,” Tommy muttered.

  “Ignore him,” Sean interrupted again. “Yes, we are here looking for a treasure. Okay? Do a quick internet search on him. You’ll see that’s what we do all the time. We travel the world and hunt down lost treasures. It’s kind of our thing.”

  “Is this true?” Martinez asked Tommy, who stood against the side of the cage with his arms crossed.

  Tommy sighed. “Yes. Okay? You happy, Sean? Now he knows why we’re here.”

  Sean’s eyes were fixed on a tent thirty yards away. He’d been watching it the entire time since being put in the cage. He pulled his gaze from the tent and put it squarely on Martinez.

  “You mean in general or with our current situation?” Sean asked in his best smart-aleck tone.

  Tommy spun around and threw a right hook. His fist smashed into Sean’s jaw and knocked him to the muddy ground. Sean winced and sat there for a moment in disbelief. He rubbed his cheek to ease the pain as he stared at Tommy with confusion in his eyes.

  “What was that for?” Sean asked.

  “You’ve ruined everything! Now this guy is going to get the treasure, moron!” Tommy jerked a thumb at Martinez, who stood on the other side of the cage bars with a dumbfounded look on his face. “You always do this, Sean. You always take things so lightly. Well, I hope you’re happy! Because we’re going to die out here, and he’s going to get the treasure we worked so hard to find.”

  “This treasure,” Martinez interrupted. “Where is it? Perhaps you tell me, and we work out a deal. What do you say?”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of deal?”

  “Let’s just say if this treasure is worth it, maybe I can let you two live.”

  Tommy didn’t like the way the smuggler said it, but he was in no position to bargain. Or was he?

  “Let us out of here, and we’ll show you where it is.”

  Martinez laughed hard. “We both know that you are in no position to bargain.”

  Tommy snorted.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “What you just said. Those were the exact words in my mind.”

  Sean had pulled himself off the ground and leaned against one of the bars.
“Good luck, Tommy. You can count me out. I can’t believe you hit me—and for no reason.”

  “I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up. I’m tired of it, Sean. All our lives, you’ve been the class clown, never taking anything seriously. You’d better get back on the ground or I’ll put you back on the ground.”

  Sean had never heard his friend sound so menacing, so serious. He slunk back toward the back of the cage, putting both hands up in the air in surrender.

  “Fine, Martinez. We’ll cooperate. But I want a cut of the treasure.”

  The smuggler’s eyebrows shot up. “A cut? You’re lucky I don’t cut you right now. You’ll get nothing, except perhaps, your freedom…or at least a chance to earn it.”

  Tommy didn’t like the way the guy said that last part, but he didn’t have a choice. “Fine. We’ll show you the way to the treasure in the morning. No way we can find it now that it’s getting dark.”

  “Very well. I’ll allow you two to sleep here in the cage tonight to work out your problems.” He fired a disgusted look at Sean. “I wonder, are you always such whiny little baby?”

  Sean said nothing and slumped down onto a dry patch of ground with arms crossed.

  “We leave at dawn tomorrow morning. How far away is this place?” Martinez asked.

  “Not far,” Tommy said. “We’re close to it right now.” He hoped they hadn’t looked over the maps in their gear bags, although he doubted they’d be able to pinpoint the exact location of the next clue.

  “Good. Because if I start to sense you two are leading me off course as part of some crazy escape plan, your torture will be far worse than anything you’ve ever imagined.”

  Martinez turned and walked off toward the fire in the center of the camp. Tommy watched until the guy was out of earshot and sitting next to some of his men before speaking.

  “You think he bought it?” Tommy asked.

  “I’d hope so,” Sean said as he shuffled back to the front of the cage near where Tommy stood. “You actually hit me kind of hard.”

  Tommy grinned. “I had to make it look real.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t have to make it look that real. And what was all that you were saying about me being reckless? You didn’t have to embellish that much.”

  “Who said I was embellishing?” Tommy spun around and sauntered to the back of the cage.

  Sean chuckled, still rubbing his jaw.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Tommy said. “We’re going to lead Martinez to the waterfall, blow up the camp, and take out his men? Sound about right?”

  “Yep. That’s the plan.”

  “And you’re sure that when you set off the explosives that you’re not going to hurt our gear?”

  “Our guns are in that tent over there,” Sean pointed to a tent to the left of the campfire. “They took our explosives over to that tent.” He pointed to another structure on the opposite side of the camp.

  Tommy shook his head. “How do you know all that?”

  “I pay attention,” Sean said. “And I feel like we’ve had this talk already. While they were bringing us in, I watched what they did with our bags. I knew they initially took them into the first tent I showed you, but then I saw a guy emerge with the ordnance I brought. They probably want to keep that stuff separate in case there’s an accident.”

  “An accident we’re going to help happen.”

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter 17

  Atlanta

  Erika Forsberg watched through the tinted window of her sports coupe. She’d been staking out IAA headquarters for several hours, waiting for everyone to leave the building before making her way inside.

  She knew there would probably be two occupants in the building until late into the night. Based on the intel provided by her employer, a young woman and young man were typically there early in the morning and stayed to almost midnight. They were primarily researchers, which wouldn’t be a problem.

  She’d managed to kill three congressmen along with a few security guards as well. The task would have been a challenge for some assassins. Erika, however, was no ordinary killer-for-hire.

  After dedicating four years of her life to climbing the ladder at Interpol, she realized she’d never achieve her ambitions. She was passed over for promotions and raises. She’d even succumbed to sleeping with one of her bosses after hard work and dedication to the job didn’t do the trick.

  Still, nothing.

  In fact, the man respected her even less after the night of less-than-stellar passion.

  So, after four long years, she put in her notice and branched out on her own as a freelancer. It didn’t take long for Erika to find work on the other side of the law. It started out as contract security jobs for some of Europe’s biggest criminals. Then the slippery slope led to her first paid killing.

  The guy she murdered wasn’t a good person, which made it easier. In some ways, that’s how Erika justified it. It wasn’t like she was killing children or blowing up churches. The people she eliminated were dirty. If they needed to be removed from the earth, she had no problem getting paid for the job.

  Thanks to both her skills and her ruthlessness, her reputation grew in the criminal underworld. There were whispers in the shadows about the woman who could get into any building, bypass any security system to eliminate her targets.

  When her current employer discovered her, Erika was a little surprised by the offer.

  One hundred thousand dollars, just to hear the proposal. If she decided not to take the job, Erika could still keep the money.

  There’d been initial suspicions, certainly. After all, when something sounded too good to be true….

  But Erika was no fool. She also wasn’t stupid enough to turn down a hundred grand. Those kinds of gigs only came around every so often. When they did, her end goal, which was sitting on a beach somewhere with a margarita and zero responsibilities, grew rapidly closer.

  Her goals were lofty, although they were getting closer with every job she pulled. Only a few more and she’d drop off the map for good.

  Erika’s time in Interpol had taught her every trick in the book. She knew how to navigate police at every level, what security strategies were most common, and how to get around some of the best security systems in the world. Thieves would pay a fortune to get inside her brain.

  Her secrets, however, would remain hers.

  The last lights in the IAA building went dark, and a couple of minutes later a man in a blue polo walked out the main entrance.

  “That’s the last of them,” she said to herself.

  Erika waited until the man disappeared around the corner to where he’d parked his car before she turned her attention to the black case in the passenger seat. Her fingers made quick work of the latches, and she flipped open the lid to reveal twin 9mm pistols, four magazines, and an extra box of shells.

  With only two potential targets—both of whom were likely unarmed—Erika doubted she’d need so much ammunition, but it was always better to have too much than not enough, especially if it didn’t weigh her down.

  She slid the weapons into their holsters, shoved the spare magazines into two slots on the back of her belt, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the console. When the eyewear was resting on her nose, she pressed a tiny button on the side that activated an augmented reality system.

  The two lenses displayed the layout of the IAA building. She’d done the research ahead of time in order to program the lenses and make it easier to navigate through the many corridors and rooms.

  Her main objective was illuminated by a bright red dot against the blue grid of the building’s framework. Based on her analysis, the target was in the belly of the building, hidden deep in a vault on the second basement floor.

  Initially, Erika had been shocked at the level of security this archaeological agency possessed. After reading a little deeper into what they did, she understood. The second basement level was where the more dangerous artifacts were kept
. Things that displayed unexplainable tendencies were put there behind walls of three-foot-thick concrete.

  She assumed such measures were taken because of fear of radiation, though there was no way to confirm that suspicion. She dismissed the notion, figuring there wouldn’t be anything of that nature in the building.

  Erika walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Inside was a black gear bag that she slung over one shoulder.

  Loaded up and ready to go, she slammed the trunk shut and strode down the sidewalk.

  On the other side of the street, people loitered by the fence that wrapped Centennial Olympic Park. Others were inside walking around, hand in hand, enjoying the peaceful evening.

  Erika didn’t pay any attention to them, and she knew the lack of care was reciprocated.

  Once she was around the back of the building, she found the rear exit and switched off the augmented lenses. Two cameras—mounted high on the corner wall—were honed in on the back door. She set the gear bag down on the ground next to a stack of pallets. After unzipping it, she pulled out a small device that looked much like a cell phone. This unit wasn’t made for texting or making phone calls, though. It was designed for one purpose: hacking security systems.

  She had several in her possession, but this one served a specific purpose. She could plug into security camera feeds and automatically loop the displayed images as long as the device was within a certain radius.

  Erika glanced over her shoulder at the pallets and then stuffed the jamming unit through one of the wooden grooves so no one would see it.

  From here, the device would send a signal through the external cameras and into the monitors in the security room, thus making it look like things were normal.

  The feed spread like a virus, hijacking every camera in the building.

  Once more, her years at Interpol proved to be useful. She’d learned more about security systems than nearly anyone else on the payroll. While that knowledge never translated into more rewards for her at the agency, it was paying huge dividends for her now.