GOLDEN REICH

by Mark Donahue

  Since his wife had died at a relatively early age, and with only one child to raise who was now grown, Ben became a citizen of the world, and despite his age, still traveled extensively when he heard of a dig or just wanted to see a new and exciting place.

  Despite his wealth, Ben liked his relatively low-key lifestyle, living on a two-hundred acre ranch outside Phoenix. Some of Ben’s friends knew he had money, but even they did not know how much, nor that he had other homes in Aspen, Palm Beach, and a horse farm in Lexington, Kentucky. Ben was not being deceitful; he just felt his friends might treat him differently if they knew the extent of his net worth.

  Ben had noticed Tom and Jon the first time they entered Elsa’s and had accurately deduced that they were city boys trying to play gold miners. At first he was amused by their naiveté and lack of knowledge. But he was also concerned. The rumors of gold in the hills surrounding them were not new, nor were more serious stories of men disappearing while searching for their fortunes.

  Some say the land killed them; the furnace-like heat, the twisting dirt roads that led to sheer two thousand foot drop-offs, or rattlesnakes and scorpions in sleeping bags were all part of the lore of how and why people disappeared. But even more sinister were the rumors of bands of thieves following inexperienced weekend gold miners into the hills and killing them for cash, equipment, pickup trucks, Rolexes, or as some suggested, to prevent them either by design or accident, from finding the gold already discovered by the killers who would do anything to protect their troves.

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  When Ben found his chunk of gold, he had been hiking in the early morning hours in the desert several miles north of Elsa’s after two days of rain. Rain in the desert, while rare, occurs more frequently than Easterners would imagine, and when it does rain, it can rain for days with a frightening intensity. Sun-baked dirt, hard as rock, does not absorb water easily, and rampaging flooding can result after even a few hours of rain. Small creeks become raging torrents that can change the contour of a desert floor. But like the sound no one hears from a falling tree in the forest, changes in a desert wilderness can go unnoticed by man.

  With a desert floor that still held small pools of water after the rain, Ben had set out with some bottled water and a ham sandwich wanting to get some exercise and take advantage of a cool and still cloudy Arizona sky. After a five-mile outward hike, Ben began a slow circle that would return him to his Jeep parked off the dirt road that led north from Elsa’s and ended at an abandoned mine. As he turned back to the east, the late morning sun broke through the clouds, and the desert changed from a mottled brown to a multicolored pallet of greens, tans, grays, and pinks. The colors changed by the second as clouds would reclaim the sky only to have the sun break through again and set off a new explosion of color.

  Taken by the spectacle, Ben sat down on a rock to take in the beauty that surrounded him. Looking back toward the west at the endless horizon, he detected a metallic reflection fifty yards away in an area that he had just passed minutes before. Thinking it may be a pop can or piece of trash from a careless hiker, he moved toward the area to retrieve it and leave the desert as he had found it.

  Walking to the spot, he at first lost sight of the glimmer as the sun peeked in and out of the clouds. Ready to forget the object, the sun broke through yet again, and the metallic object reappeared and shone brightly twenty feet ahead to his left.

  Reaching the object, he found a three-inch square piece of metal that he instantly thought was a chunk of gold. Touching it first with his walking stick and simultaneously rebuking himself for such pedestrian thoughts, he kneeled to retrieve the object that rested almost completely exposed on the damp desert floor. As soon as he felt the weight in his hand, he knew his original pedestrian thoughts were correct. He had just found a damn piece of gold lying wide open in the desert, like someone had put it on a nightstand before going to bed.

  For the next three days, Ben looked for more gold. He worked in ever-widening circles and spent the rest of the first day looking on the surface. On the second and third days, he brought a metal detector with him and continued his search but found nothing of value. Occasionally, especially after big rains, Ben would return to the spot but never again found gold. Over the years he, like Tom and Jon, wondered how such a piece could end up in the desert. Did it fall from the sky? Was it part of a larger cache? Was it dropped from a wagon as it lumbered across the desert? He had asked all the same questions. Until he had met Tom and Jon, he had given up all hope of answers. Yet they too had found what he had found, and for the first time in years, a new page in the mystery was turning.

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  As Ben listened to Tom and Jon speak, it was hard to imagine that two such bright, likable young men could have ended up in prison. He was also surprised that they were so open and honest about what they had found and their backgrounds. Ben kept looking around Elsa’s hoping no one could overhear their conversation. Their enthusiasm for trying to find the gold was, he thought, borne of a desire for adventure after years in prison, the need for financial security, the challenge such an endeavor would entail, and the overriding desire to accomplish something—even if “something” was the answer to the riddle of where the gold came from and nothing more.

  While the three men analyzed various theories as to where the gold could have come from, they couldn’t decide on a definitive answer. But they all agreed that the gold had been refined in the twentieth century, given the size and shape of Tom and Jon’s bar, and the lettering on both. They also agreed that there was more gold. The logic being that in the thousands of square miles of desert that lay outside Elsa’s doors, the assumption that Ben, Tom, and Jon had found the only two pieces of gold was a virtual mathematical impossibility.

  Ben also listened to Tom’s theory that the silver mines north of Elsa’s played some role in the gold. Ben failed to see a firm connection, but he saw how Tom drew his conclusion and agreed to visit both mines with Jon and Tom.

  Tom’s historical perspective and Ben’s archeological experience also meshed as Tom related what he had learned in libraries, and Ben recounted his experience in excavation, impact of terrain, and knowledge of the local area. But Ben warned Tom and Jon to keep a lower profile regarding their search. He related stories of disappearances of both experienced and inexperienced gold hunters who wandered into the hills and were never heard from again. At first both young men tried to laugh off Ben’s stories as mere folklore. But the serious tone taken by Ben and his no-nonsense statement that if they did not listen to his warnings he would walk away from their blooming partnership got their attention.

  Finally, the men agreed on a plan. It was a plan that would prove to exhaust them physically, intellectually, and emotionally. Part of their agreement was that if they found anything, it would be split three ways. At the end of a ninety-day period, if nothing was found, they would never again pursue the dangerous fantasy of hunting for gold in the desert.

  Ben added just one more condition to their agreement; he had a partner. In fact, he had two.

  As Ben, Jon, and Tom wrapped up their meeting over more raspberry iced teas, tucked away in a corner of Elsa’s parking lot, three young men sat in an idling white pickup truck with tinted windows. All three men were in their early thirties, had shaved heads, and as many tattoos as allowed by Arizona law. The driver of the pickup made a call to Montecito, California, on his cell.

  On a golf course, an elderly man looked at his caller ID and said to his playing partner, “It’s Phoenix again.”

  “Is he using the untraceable line?”

  The elderly man nodded and answered. “Good morning, Ronald, I hope all is well.”

  “Yes sir, things is good.”

  “Splendid. What can I do for you, Ronald?”

  “Well, sir, we’ve been following those two guys we told you about like we said we would, and it’s like
I said before, I think they’re just tourists nosin’ around the mines, you know, they look like amateurs.”

  “Very well. I appreciate your diligence and that of your associates, although I realize you are clearly the leader of your group. Please keep me posted if the situation changes.”

  “Yes sir, you bet I will.”

  “By the way, Ronald, how are your recruiting efforts progressing?”

  “Good, sir. We got some Road Warriors and Skull Men riding in this weekend, and we should get a bunch of sign-ups from those groups,” Ronald explained with enthusiasm.

  “That’s wonderful, Ronald. It is obvious you are a man of many talents. Stay well.”

  “Thanks sir and…”

  The impeccably dressed old man on the golf course whose name was Armin, clicked off his phone and didn’t hear the rest of Ronald’s words, nor did he care to.

  His elderly partner in the golf cart asked, “Any reason to be concerned, Armin?”

  “Only that we are dealing with idiots.”

  “Isn’t that the plan?”

  “Yes, and the plan is working. The press and government believe what they see.”

  “Then you should be content to let apathy take its course.”

  “Yes, it always has,” Armin agreed.

  Back at Elsa’s parking lot, Ronald basked in the compliments from the old man. “He said I was doing a great job.”

  Sitting next to him, Danny had a question. “What about me and Mouse here?”

  “Oh yeah, he said you guys were doin’ a great job too.”

  “Cool,” Mouse said.

  “Ever meet that old dude?” Danny asked.

  “No. Just answered that ad online. Next thing I know I’m gettin’ checks sent to my post office box just to come out here a few times a week and see if anybody is goin’ into the Jasper. That’s easy as shit.”

  “Man, you’re a lucky dude,” Danny marveled.

  “Why’s that old man so hot on the Jasper?” the ever-inquisitive Mouse asked.

  “Damned if I know. But if all I have to do is give him a call every time I see someone go in there in exchange for the cash we use to get laid at one of our parties, I can dig that.” Mouse had another probing question. “Ronnie, what’s that old guy’s name?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care.”

  Chapter 37

  Jasper Mine—1943

  Rolle walked slowly from the cavern toward Lester, pistol in hand. From several feet away, he told Lester he had “eliminated” the major and lieutenant. As he looked at Lester, Rolle continued to be surprised and inwardly enraged that a dirty hobo from this cesspool of a country could have killed and captured so many of Germany’s finest.

  With the automatic rifle in his hands, Lester felt secure for his own life at least for the moment, but when he saw Rolle approach, he wondered if Rolle was thinking of also “eliminating” the young guards as they sat in the dust-filled pit below him. Had Rolle raised his pistol, Lester would have shot him instantly.

  The four guards in the pit, despite their swagger and imposing physical presences, were in the end, young men in or barely out of their teens who had been drafted into a mission that they were likely never supposed to survive. Most had not. Lester wondered what propaganda they had been fed to have agreed to be sent on such a suicide mission.

  If the guards were to be captured by American agents, they would surely be executed as spies. Or they could be “eliminated” by the very people who drafted them when they had completed their tasks and became more of a liability than an asset. Lester knew Rolle would never allow a bunch of young German guards to be turned loose in America with knowledge of the location or existence of tons of German gold.

  Lester also knew that the programming these young men underwent made them dangerous. If given a chance they would kill him without a second thought. But he also knew that they were soldiers following orders, and this war, like all the others, would someday end, and these men, if given a chance, would return to mothers, wives and sweethearts. He didn’t fault them for the orders they were given to enter American soil to try to perpetuate Hitler’s Germany by protecting the gold. He remembered crazy orders he had to follow years before. And while he would defend himself if they tried to overpower him, he would just as soon those boys not have to die on foreign soil, but Lester also knew his preference faced long odds.

  As he rose to meet Rolle, Lester could see the confusion on the faces of the four guards as they realized that Rolle, someone whom they thought was part of their team was, somehow, someway, working with Lester, the enemy. They also had heard Rolle’s comments about eliminating the major and lieutenant, and no doubt they too expected to be shot within minutes.

  “It appears you have compromised what I thought were our best soldiers. It was in our best interests that these men did not live up to their advanced billing.” Rolle said sarcastically.

  “I don’t think these boys were all that experienced, mister.” Lester said looking down at the four young men.

  “We can deal with these men later. In less than four hours the first truck will arrive, and we must be prepared to oversee the unloading and storage of the gold. We must dispose of the bodies that remain from last night and make sure there are no weapons or other materials that could alert the drivers of a change in plans. Don’t forget, these drivers were under the supervision of Becker, and they will already be suspicious about his absence.”

  It was agreed that Lester would take the remaining four guards and dispose of the bodies of the other men who had been “eliminated,” including Becker. Rolle would scour the area for weapons and other items that if discovered would lead to questions that would be difficult to answer when the trucks laden with the gold and more armed guards arrived.

  Using an old handcart found near the back of the cavern, the surviving four Germans, under guard by Lester, took on the gruesome task of picking up the bodies from the prior evening’s carnage. After an hour, the task was completed even though the tough German soldiers were on the verge of nausea especially after they retrieved the burned remains of the men killed by the exploding gas tank ignited by Lester’s bullet.

  The bodies were taken to an area in the back of the cavern that had been used as a refuse dump years earlier. It was a deep, forbidding chasm that had, at one time, been blocked off by a yellow and black painted gate. Over the years the gate had been destroyed and the gaping pit was now an exposed abyss that Lester well remembered and carefully approached in the half-light of two flashlights.

  As a boy, the miners used to tell Lester stories about the black hole saying it was so deep that you could push a Cadillac in and never hear it hit bottom. They related tales of how Indians would use the pit for sacrifices and religious celebrations. They also told him that if he got in their way they were going to tie a rope to his leg, throw him over the side and let him dangle in the pit and he would be bait for some prehistoric monster that lived on the bottom. As he grew older and wiser to the stories of miners, he learned the truth of the pit, which was almost as frightening as the tall tales told to him.

  As the guards approached the pit to dispose of the bodies, they felt and heard a swirling wind that seemed to come at them from all directions. They used a twelve-foot long piece of two-by-four to push the bodies over the edge of the pit from a safe distance. One of the guards was so terrified of the howling, gaping pit that he stood frozen, unable to move.

  The chasm at the back of the Jasper had been formed millions of years earlier by a raging river that had at one time raced through the desert on its way to the Pacific Ocean. Deep canyons were gouged from the rock by the water over the eons. This was prior to the movement of the tectonic plates which forced up the mountains and rocks that existed throughout Arizona and the Southwest.

  The cavern that made up most of the Jasper mine had been carved by this wat
er, and the result of its power was at the back of the cavern in the form of an abyss forged in the rock roughly thirty feet in diameter abutting a flat, open area on the other side of the opening. A gentle slope in the floor of the cavern led to the chasm. Moving more deeply into the cavern, the slope increased from two to three degrees until it sloped to a nearly seven degree angle within twenty feet of the opening. At times wind and water could be heard emanating from the depths of the chasm, which only added to the fear that was instilled in all the miners regarding the “Pit” as it was accurately named.

  Many of the men working in the mine would rather lose their jobs than be assigned to the trash detail and have to push carts of debris into the pit. Sometimes because the men were afraid to get too close to the descending path that led to the abyss, trash and debris would become entangled near the opening and someone would have to use long metal pipes to unclog the mess and push it down into the abyss.

  Finding volunteers for such a job was difficult if not impossible. It was not until a local Indian boy about twelve years old, hearing of the job, volunteered and was hired by the mine for the sole purpose of keeping the opening clear. The men admired his fearlessness and dexterity in moving around the pit and nicknamed him “Pitboy,” a moniker that stuck even as the boy turned into a man. When Pitboy went missing after lunch one day in 1917 and was never seen again, it was clear that he had truly earned his nickname.

  After finishing their gruesome task, Lester led the four men back to the cavern office to meet Rolle who had gathered up the various weapons and odds and ends that littered the mine. As he walked into the only portion of the office not damaged by the previous evening’s explosion, Lester motioned for the four guards to sit on the floor with their backs against the far wall. One of the men asked for something to drink, and while his request was ignored by Rolle, Lester gave the men two large containers of water that were sitting on a table next to the front door.

  “Now what?” Lester asked.