The Fourth Prophecy

by Ernest Dempsey

  “You know what I am capable of as well.”

  “Indeed. Our mutual respect for one another breeds a necessity of trust, wouldn’t you say?”

  Lilian stood up and walked over to the bed. She set the pistol down next to the amulet and then lifted the jewelry to examine it more closely.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said in a mesmerized tone.

  “What makes it glow like that?” Erika asked.

  Lilian flicked her eyebrows. “No one knows for sure. I’d bet those imbeciles at the IAA were trying to figure it out. With all their resources, though, I doubt they came up with any answers.”

  “When I found it, they had it in a storage vault under the main building. It was housed in a glass display case, like they were going to put it on exhibit sometime soon.”

  “Or perhaps that was just their way of protecting it. Lot of good it did them. Now, however, with this relic I will be unstoppable.”

  Lilian wandered over to the window and looked out at the foaming white waves of the ocean as they crashed onto the shore. The night was perfectly clear; not a cloud in the sky. The nearly full moon hovered over the water, casting its pale reflection onto the rippling gulf.

  “What’s our next move?” Erika asked, watching her employer as she gazed out upon the sea.

  “We wait for now.”

  Erika was puzzled. “Wait? Wait for what?”

  “My puppets are deep in the Yucatan jungle right now, searching for the last piece of the puzzle. I heard from them a few days ago but told them not to call unless they had a legitimate update for me. They’ll be in touch soon.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Erika asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Because Sean Wyatt and Tommy Schultz are the best. They always get the job done. That’s why I chose them. I could have sought out any number of archaeologists or historians. I even have friends at the Smithsonian I could have called, but I chose them because only they are capable of going into dangerous situations and coming out unscathed. All the others would have balked at the offer. Those two are action junkies. They live for this sort of thing.”

  “What happens if they fail, if you don’t hear from them?”

  “I have a backup plan in place; however, I won’t need to use it. They won’t fail. Failure isn’t part of their vocabulary.”

  Pike gazed at the amulet again. Now she possessed a relic with the power to grant eternal life. The only person on the planet that even had an inkling of her plans was the woman in the room with her. Erika had been told the goal behind the ultimate plan.

  With no ties or emotional connections to anyone else in the world, Erika had signed on without hesitation. While some people wanted to make the world a better place, Lilian Pike had a plan. It was lofty, but a plan nonetheless.

  Now that they possessed the amulet, they could begin setting the final pieces in motion and no one would be able to stop them.

  Chapter 30

  Chiapas

  “Are we getting rusty?” Tommy asked as the three men were marched into a camp in a river basin deep in the jungle.

  “What do you mean?” Sean asked as he tried, with hands bound with twine, to swat at a mosquito.

  “Two times in as many days we’ve been captured by ruffians. Just wondering if we might be losing our touch.”

  “Ruffians?” Sean said with a laugh. “I don’t know if we’re losing our touch, but that’s an interesting word to use.”

  “What?” Tommy asked, sounding a little offended. “How else would you describe these guys?”

  A gunman behind Tommy jammed him in the kidneys with the barrel of his rifle, causing the American to grimace.

  “Hey, watch it. That thing could go off,” Tommy warned.

  “This is not a good situation,” Pablo said. “These men are ruthless killers. There will be no escape this time—unless of course you have some other miracle hidden up your sleeves.”

  “Well, if it’s the end of the line, it’s been a good ride,” Sean said in an almost cheerful tone.

  “I, for one, don’t share his optimism,” Tommy said. “But then again, I’m a worrier.”

  “He really is,” Sean agreed. “Always has been.”

  “Death comes to us all,” Pablo said. “Sooner or later, that is. So, why worry about it?”

  “I just have a lot to live for,” Tommy said. “Would rather face my fate later rather than sooner. That’s all.”

  The gunmen marched the three into a camp that was eerily similar to the one run by the cartel. The procession wound its way through the outlying tents and into the central area of the camp, then left toward a huge tent covered in camouflage netting. Even with the thick green canopy above, these guys weren’t taking any chances.

  They walked through the entrance to the tent between two guards standing on either side with automatic rifles in their hands and menacing glares on their faces. The men were dirty and had a look of desperation in their vapid eyes.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably going to be sooner than later,” Pablo said.

  “Run into these types before?” Tommy asked as they entered the dark tent. Only a few lanterns illuminated the room. A big wooden pole was in the center holding up the primary part of the roof.

  Pablo shrugged, not exactly answering the question at first. “I may have had a run-in once or twice.”

  Tommy and Sean both raised their eyebrows and glanced at Pablo with surprise.

  “It’s not my first time in the jungle, you know.”

  “Quiet,” one of the gunmen ordered.

  “Oh, so you speak English?” Sean asked the diminutive gunman.

  The guy didn’t answer, which made Sean think maybe he only knew the one word. The man immediately started barking orders in Spanish, telling the others to line them up to meet their leader. He clearly didn’t think the Americans knew what he was saying. That or he didn’t care, which seemed to be a common theme lately.

  The three men stood side by side, staring at the other side of the sparsely decorated tent. There was a wooden chair and a matching desk in the corner that looked like something left over from World War II. A narrow cot sat alone in the opposite corner. Other than that, there were only a couple of stools and other chairs in the room for occasions, Sean assumed, like this one.

  “What are we waiting on?” Tommy asked, not that he expected an answer.

  “Silence.” The same guy from before gave the command.

  “We’re waiting for their leader,” Sean said as he stared ahead at the place in the tent where the fabric parted. At the moment, it hung together, but he knew that soon someone would be coming through to issue their fate.

  Sean knew he’d used up most of his tricks. He and the other two had no weapons, no explosives, nothing. The only thing that could save them now was a miracle.

  “Leader?” Tommy asked.

  His question led to a rifle butt to his lower back. Tommy grunted and doubled over for a second, instinctively trying to reach to where the pain pulsed, but his hands were tied and getting to it was impossible. He coughed several times before he could stand up somewhat straight.

  Sean shook his head. “If I had a nickel for every time he’s been hit in the kidneys with a gun.”

  Pablo turned his head and looked at Sean with a puzzled gaze.

  The tent fabric in front of them parted, and two men with similar weapons to the others stepped in. One held the flap open for someone else to pass through, but it was impossible to see who it was at first.

  First, the prisoners saw boots, then legs in military fatigues. Whoever was coming to greet them certainly had a flare for the dramatic. He walked slowly, letting each footstep hit the ground in a deliberate, threatening way to let the prisoners know he meant business.

  As the man stepped into the light of the tent, Sean’s concern turned to shock. The sweat on his forehead dripped to the ground as he scrunched his eyebrows together to make sure he wasn’t seeing a ghost.

/>   The tent flaps closed and before them stood a man with tanned, freckled skin, dirty blond hair, and one of the smuggest grins they’d ever seen.

  “You killed two of my men,” the leader said with a stone-cold expression on his face. His accent was American, probably Southern California.

  “Which two?” Sean asked.

  Pablo turned his head and fired a look at Sean that begged him not to be a smart aleck, not at the moment anyway.

  “The two in the back of the truck. The driver survived.”

  “That’s good. Maybe the other two shouldn’t have been shooting at us.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be somewhere you’re not welcome.”

  “To be fair, we were just passing through, and my driver here”—Sean motioned to Tommy—“took a wrong turn.”

  The guerrilla leader put his hands on his hips and took a step toward Tommy. “Is that right? You took a wrong turn?”

  “We were in a hurry. And your guys were already shooting at us. So, it’s not really my fault.”

  The man pulled out a gun and held it out, pointing it toward Tommy’s gut. “You saying it’s my fault?”

  “No. No, not at all. Just saying that we wouldn’t have come through your territory.”

  “Shut it.”

  Tommy’s lips pinched together.

  The leader turned back toward Sean. “You gotta lot of nerve coming here after all you’ve done.”

  “I’m just getting started,” Sean sneered.

  Pablo and Tommy risked a questioning glance at each other out of the corner of their eyes. They were both wondering the same thing. Did these two know each other?

  The leader stopped a few feet in front of Sean.

  “You know, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed, Sean. It will make crushing you feel so much better.”

  That answered Tommy and Pablo’s question. The next question was, would that bode badly for them? Based on the remark about crushing him, the initial guess was that it would be bad.

  “You’ve tried before, big boy. I don’t see why anything would change now.”

  The leader stepped close to Sean, putting his toes an inch from Sean’s. They were both about the same height, though the guerrilla leader probably had fifteen pounds on his counterpart.

  “Cocky as always.”

  “Confident,” Sean corrected. “Cocky people talk too much.”

  “You’re talking too much now.”

  Silence fell across the room. Then the leader handed his gun to one of the subordinates and put his hands out wide. The next second, he wrapped his arms around Sean and patted him on the back.

  “It’s been too long, my old friend.”

  “That it has, Jack. That it has.”

  Pablo’s and Tommy’s faces curled in confusion.

  “Emilio,” Jack said, turning to one of the men behind the prisoners. “Get these ropes off of them. These men are my friends.”

  “Thank you,” Sean said.

  Emilio stepped over and produced a hunting knife. After making quick work of Sean’s bonds, he cut through the other two and then returned to the side.

  Tommy wrung his hands to get the feeling back in his fingers while Pablo shook his hands loosely by his hips.

  “You men can wait outside,” Jack said in Spanish.

  The guards in the room immediately turned and walked out.

  “You guys going to fill us in on how you know each other?” Tommy asked.

  Sean chuckled. “Jack was with the CIA when I was with Axis. We helped each other out with a few things.”

  “Actually,” Jack interrupted, “Sean helped me way more than I think I ever helped him.”

  “Nah,” Sean disputed.

  “Don’t be so modest. Thanks to you, we took down several serious threats to national security.”

  Tommy raised an eyebrow. He knew about some of his friend’s exploits, but Sean was always deliberately vague on the details.

  “What are you guys doing way out here in the jungle? And seriously, did you have to kill two of my men?”

  “They were shooting at us,” Sean explained. “And I didn’t know they were your men.”

  Jack shook his head and then turned to the other two. “So, who are these guys?”

  “This is Tommy and our new friend, Pablo. We picked him up last night.”

  “Last night?”

  “Yeah, we had a run-in with the local cartel. Barely escaped with our lives.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “So, you’re the one.”

  Sean didn’t follow. “One? One what?”

  Jack let out a big, booming laugh. “You guys! You’re the ones who blew up the Martinez compound. That camp was still smoking this morning. Wow. Nice work.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “Osvaldo Martinez is a bad person,” Jack said. “He’s been tormenting this region for a long time. Knocking him down a peg is a good thing, I promise.”

  “Well,” Tommy cut in again, “we didn’t knock him down a peg.”

  “No?”

  “No. He’s dead.”

  Jack’s shock was written all over his face. “Really? You guys killed Martinez?”

  The three visitors nodded.

  “You know,” he said, “I shouldn’t be so surprised. Sean, you always were really good at your job.”

  “It was out of necessity, I assure you.”

  “Okay. Look, I don’t care. That’s one huge thorn out of my side. We’ve been having to watch our step for the last five years around these parts because of the cartel. Maybe now we can make a little progress.”

  “Progress? I’m sorry, what is it you’re doing here?” Tommy asked.

  Jack turned back toward him. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re running a revolution.”

  The three guests said nothing.

  “Okay, actually, we’re not trying to overthrow the government. We’re taking down the cartels. Our job is to try to keep them in check as much as possible.”

  Sean shook his head. “What?”

  Jack grinned and motioned for the men to follow him back out through the entrance. When they were all outside, he showed them the camp. “All these men,” he said, “lost someone to the cartels. Some of their families were beheaded in the streets right in front of their eyes. Women, children, even pets were executed to make an example. Then they were sold as slaves or forced to work in the factories and cocaine camps around the country. I freed most of the early ones. As our numbers grew, we started taking on more aggressive missions, using hit-and-run tactics on supply trucks, convoys, even some of their airfields.”

  The three visitors listened in stunned silence as Jack described his operation. When he was done, no one said anything at first.

  Sean was the first to break the silence. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Jack. A very dangerous game.”

  “I was playing a dangerous game when I worked for the CIA, Sean. You know that. You played the same game. But we played for politicians, for governments who don’t always believe in justice. I found these men when I was here on a mission from the United States government.”

  “Mission?” Tommy asked.

  “Yeah, I was supposed to come down here and take down one of the cartel kingpins. Escobar had nothing on this guy, let me tell you. He had an empire that stretched all the way to Singapore.”

  “Does that mean you killed him?” Sean asked.

  “No,” Jack said. “Not for a lack of trying. Every time I got close, he was one step ahead. Through the years, we’ve been working to take down one cartel after another, but he’s always remained elusive, dodging us at every turn. Sooner or later, though, he’ll get his. He can’t run forever.”

  “Jack Forrest always gets his man, huh?”

  “Something like that. Anyway, I still can’t believe you killed Martinez. I’ve had my eye on him for a while, but he runs—or ran—a tight operation. I’m curious how you pulled it off.”

  “It was less tactical than
you might imagine,” Sean said. “He captured us.”

  “Captured?” Jack laughed. “Sean Wyatt captured by a drug smuggler?”

  “Happens more often than you might think,” Tommy quipped.

  “Look, Jack, I’m enjoying this little trip down memory lane, but we’re kind of in a hurry.”

  Jack’s expression changed to one filled with curiosity. “Oh? I was going to ask you what you guys were doing down here.”

  “I don’t work for Axis anymore,” Sean explained. “I work for him now. Tommy runs an archaeological recovery agency out of Atlanta. I won’t get into the details, but we’re here in Mexico looking for a lost Mayan temple. We were investigating a clue when Martinez caught up to us. We need a lift back to the nearest city and any weapons and ammunition you can spare.”

  Jack’s eyebrows raised half an inch. He crossed his arms as he considered the request. “Yeah, we can get you to a town about an hour from here. It’s on the coast. Lots of expats there, so you shouldn’t run into too much trouble. We get most of our supplies there because it’s one of the few places the cartel doesn’t have a stranglehold.” He eyed Pablo suspiciously. “What’s with the local?”

  “Pablo? We recently became friends. Isn’t that right, Pabs?”

  Pablo nodded but said nothing.

  “Quiet, huh?” Jack asked. “That’s okay. I’ll have you guys back to civilization in no time. As far as transport goes, you can have your SUV back. Just follow one of my men out of the jungle, and you’ll be fine.”

  Jack motioned for his guests to follow him.

  He led the way to the middle of the camp and then hung a right, taking them into another large tent—this one with open walls facing the camp’s interior.

  “I imagine you boys need something to eat. We don’t have much in the way of variety, but what we have will fill your bellies and get you feeling better.”

  “Thanks, Jack,” Sean said.

  They passed through one of the openings, and the smell of onions, garlic, and beef filled the air. A man was making fresh tortillas on a table to the side.

  “I was wondering,” Tommy said, “why is it the cartels don’t come wipe you out?”

  Jack gave a nod as he turned and looked over his shoulder at Tommy. “Good question. The secret is to make sure you don’t leave any survivors.”