by Mark Donahue
“It is nearly 5:00 p.m., and now we wait for the first truck which will arrive in one hour. The trucks are coming in from a small town twenty miles from here, and each driver will be well armed. The two drivers will assist in unloading the gold, and these men can help us,” Rolle said, motioning absentmindedly to the guards on the floor. Rolle continued, “After each truck is unloaded, I will select a few of the newly arriving drivers to assist in eventually hiding the gold in the mine. The drivers not selected will be ordered to leave and return to a site fifty miles north of here and await further orders. The last remaining truck will be used as I see fit at a later time.”
“How could you have turned against the Führer and our country?” the smallest of the four guards seated on the floor asked. His name was Gregory, a six foot one, 160-pound reed-thin boy who looked to be no more than twenty years old.
A withering look from Rolle did not dissuade the young man from asking the same question a second time. As he was speaking, one of the other guards elbowed him and told him in German to “Shut up.”
It was advice that arrived too late. Without warning Rolle pulled his Luger from his pocket and shot Gregory in the face. A crimson halo of blood and brain matter splattered against the olive colored wall, and in the faces of the three remaining guards. The young man slumped forward, and then fell to his right into the arms of Eric Warner Schneider, the first guard Lester had captured, and the one who had seconds before told the thin one to shut up.
Lester, unprepared for Rolle’s vicious attack, moved a second too slow to throw off Rolle’s aim with the first shot, but he did stop Rolle from shooting the other three, which he appeared to have every intention of doing. Lester did so when he smashed the butt end of his rifle into the lower left side of Rolle’s face. The impact of the blow broke Rolle’s jaw in several spots, his cheekbone, and knocked out five lower teeth. Blood spewed from his mouth and nose as he spun around 180-degrees and hit the floor facedown. Moaning while trying to regain his senses, Lester walked slowly up to Rolle still reeling from the blow and kicked him in the ribs, breaking three and knocking the remaining air from his lungs. With Rolle collapsed on the floor, Lester instinctively raised his rifle and was about to cut Rolle in half when he decided he had seen enough violence and death over the last twenty-four hours. At that moment, he vowed he would never kill another man the rest of his life, even if it cost him his.
The remaining three guards sat motionless as the American defended them against the German. One of their own. They were no longer sure of what they were doing in Arizona, or who their superiors were, or who in the hell this skinny, dirty, American cowboy who had just saved their lives was.
As Rolle gurgled blood, and spit teeth on the floor, Lester lowered his rifle that had been aimed at Rolle. “Boys, far as I’m concerned too damn many people have already died in this here ole’ hole in the ground. I’m gonna try my best to see that no more die, but I’ll need your help for that. Your buddy here was gonna kill everyone in this place including you three, those twenty-four men bringing in the gold, and me, if he had half the chance.”
Putting his rifle on the table and sitting backwards on a chair, Lester continued talking to the three young Germans. “He and I had a deal. I was gonna help him get his gold for a small piece for myself, and for some folks who could really use some help. The rest of it was gonna be his. I didn’t care what he was gonna do with it, and I sure as hell don’t care what you boys do with it. You can send it back to Germany now, send it back after the war, or divvy it amongst yourselves and those truck drivers, and live like kings from here on. Like I said, I don’t rightly give a damn. But some good men I knew died here yesterday and I ’spect that you boys knew most of the men who’ve died here since you got here. I know what it’s like to be a soldier, and killin’ is part of it. I sure wish I could’ve avoided killin’ those boys last night, but they was tryin’ to kill me, and that’s the worst part of war. Killin’ people you don’t even know. People you ain’t even mad at. People you might even be sorta friendly with if it weren’t for some goddamn politician makin’ people kill each other.”
“You mean you are alone, you are the one who...” Eric began.
“Yep, it’s just me, and I know it’s a mistake to tell you boys that since there are three of you and only one of me, but if we work together for the next few hours, you can complete your mission, I can complete mine, and nobody needs to get their selves killed.”
For nearly a minute the three young men stared at Lester and he stared back. Finally, Eric whispered to the others in German, “I think we can trust him; he could have killed us and gotten everything.”
Not letting on that his German was barely good enough to understand what Eric had said, Lester was pleased that the other young men nodded in agreement with the Eric’s appraisal of Lester.
Eric slowly stood and moved toward Lester and said, “There were nineteen of us chosen for this mission because of our experience, ability to speak English, and commitment to our homeland. We were told it was likely we would never return to Germany and that it was possible some would be killed. Those were risks we were willing to take for our country. Not for the Führer, but for our country. You Americans think that we do not hear the rumors of what our leaders are doing to our own people. We hear, but what can we do? What could you do if your President Roosevelt was accused of killing innocent people? Would you storm Washington? Would you rise up and kill all your leaders? Would you give up all your own freedoms, possessions, and your families to respond to rumors? I doubt it. And even if everything is true, the same question remains what would you do? What could anyone do?”
“I don’t rightly know, son. But what’s happenin’ over there right now, true or not, will end someday, and you boys will have to make your own decisions. Like I said, what you do with this gold today, and in the future, is up to you. I’ll take what’s mine in one of those trucks comin’ in here, and you’ll never see me again. But, if you want some advice, I’d say you boys have a lot of responsibility with all that gold comin’ in here. It could help a lot of folks.”
Pointing to the still moaning Rolle, Lester said, “You know this ole’ boy here wanted to take that gold back to Germany after the war and put it in the hands of whatever new government was runnin’ things, and maybe that’s the right thing to do. But if that new government is gonna be the likes of him, then maybe that ain’t so good. But you boys are now in control of a whole lotta money if what this guy says is true, and those trucks start rollin’ in here with all that gold.”
The three young Germans looked at each other in silence after they listened to Lester. Their minds raced over the fact that within an hour they had gone from soldier to prisoner to condemned prisoner to seeing a comrade have his face shot off, to learning that one of their leaders had turned against them, to listening to a dirty American hobo giving them a civics lesson to being in control of more gold than any of them could imagine. The next hour would also be interesting.
Chapter 38
Arizona Desert—2014
Over forty-eight hours, spent mostly at Elsa’s, Tom, Jon, and Ben made decisions and came to conclusions. The decisions were based on assumptions, the assumptions the result of educated guesses, and the educated guesses sometimes not quite so educated. In short, far more art than science was used in the formation of their ultimate plans for searching for gold.
Ben volunteered to upfront the expedition’s cost, but Tom and Jon politely refused his offer and promised they would pay Ben back when they sold their gold bar. Ben thanked them and told Jon and Tom he would accept it but knew he wouldn’t.
Ben liked his new young friends and knew his days of gold searches were numbered. He also knew that if he did not help the “boys,” they would probably end up lost or dead or both. Their energy and enthusiasm made Ben feel young again. He looked forward to nights in the desert, food cooked on an open fire, and th
e thrill of hope.
As he emerged from the 1920s era men’s room in the back of Elsa’s, Jon saw some local talent enter the gift shop adjacent to the restaurant. After the romantic debacle arranged by Tom with the Mesa Mensa in the motel room, whose name he had already forgotten, Jon decided to give love a second chance. He sidled up to a tall dark-haired woman but as he did, it dawned on him how much he had lost in terms of his long-held ability to strike up conversations with even the most beautiful women.
“Excuse me. Have you seen the birthday cards?”
Not looking up from the carousel of cards, the woman replied, “They’re all birthday cards.”
“Oh yeah, guess they are. Actually, I was looking for Arbor Day cards and…”
“Then perhaps you should try a nursery.”
“Why would kids know anything about…get it? Kids, nursery. You know…get it?
The woman finally looked at Jon, but not in a good way. In fact, she shook her head in a sad way, said nothing, and moved to another carousel. Jon, showing courage over reality, followed.
“Look, to be honest I wasn’t looking very closely at the cards because I was captivated by your beauty, intellect, obvious sensitivity, and the fact you aren’t wearing a wedding ring.”
The woman continued to look at cards, but her expression indicated she wished Jon would come up with better stuff or go away.
Jon was persistent if not creative. “Rather early in the morning for shopping, isn’t it?”
The woman continued to ignore Jon but now wished he would contract a fast-acting fatal disease.
“Look, here’s the deal, I was in prison for a while; nothing serious, just some money trouble, and I just got out, and to be honest with you, as I am wont to be, I suppose any woman with a pulse would look good about now, but you really do look good, I think, and I was wondering…” Jon stopped his patter as if even he couldn’t believe what he had just said.
The woman slowly turned and stared at Jon for a few seconds; a look of sympathetic perplexity and amusement on her face witnessing such blatant and abject male stupidity. “So you think hitting on the first woman you see like a stag in heat is a charming approach that is likely to work?”
“Alas, I guess that depends on how smart you are.”
“You mean IQ really enters into your selection process?”
“I would say yes, normally, but after eight years, I may not rate intellectual capabilities as highly as other attributes.”
“Wow, it’s amazing how incredibly and obliviously pathetic you are. But then again, you are a man, right?”
“Wow! That sounds like a sexist generalization if I’ve ever heard one, but I’ll forgive your hurtful and inappropriate comments if you give me your number and…”
“My number? You can’t be serious?”
“Wait a minute. I think I’m understanding this attitude of yours now, and I have to say it’s a real stunner. Are you politely and indirectly saying that dinner and some subsequent intense foreplay, leading to sexual nirvana, is out of the question? Could that possibly be right?”
“From the looks of things, you couldn’t afford the dinner and wouldn’t survive the nirvana.”
“Okay then, you buy dinner, and I’ll bring a note from my doctor,” Jon said along with a hopeful smile.
“Gee, that does sound like a great opportunity that just about any girl would jump at, but I’d rather stay home and knit.”
“I can’t really see you knitting, but is that a yes, no, or maybe?
The woman smiled, picked out a card, turned to Jon and said, “Good hunting, Mr. Smooth.”
As she walked away, Jon did not give up, “I know, just playing hard to get, aren’t you? You’ll be back, just wait and see. Wait, okay, I’ll buy dinner, how’s that? Lunch? One taco?”
Finally, admitting utter, complete, and humiliating defeat, Jon left the shop and returned to the table with Tom and Ben.
“What’d you do, fall in?” Tom asked.
“Just trying to make new friends. What’d I miss?”
“We got most of the details worked out,” Tom said.
“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“We’ll meet here at 7, grab some breakfast, then hit the ATVs by 8.” Tom said.
“Sounds like a plan. Ben, you said you had two other partners, are we going to meet them before we take off tomorrow?” Jon asked.
Ben looked around Elsa’s and said, “Sam was supposed to be here…oh, here she is. Guys, say hello to my daughter Samantha, she likes to be called Sam. Say hello to Tom and Jon, Sam.”
With a pleasant smile on her face, Sam said, “Oh, I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Jon. Hello, Tom.”
Jon shook his head, smiled, and looked down at his coffee cup.
“Sam here graduated from the Air Force Academy and served as a pilot. After her stint, she got her master’s in archeology, and is living with me working in the family business till she goes back to UCLA for her PhD next spring,” Ben said proudly.
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Tom said. “Glad you’re going to be on our little adventure.”
“Hello,” Jon said.
“Hello, what’s the name again?” Sam asked.
“Jon. Jon Cole.”
“Ah yes, Jon. You didn’t formally introduce yourself before.”
“Well, that’s because I’m shy. You know…always try to keep a low profile.”
While Ben doubted they would find anything on their expedition, he looked forward to any event where he could spend time with his daughter.
Following in her father’s aviation footsteps, Sam always wanted to learn to fly so Ben told her to do it right and get accepted at the Air Force Academy, which she did. After serving her five years flying F-15s, F-117 Nighthawks, and C-5 Galaxy Transports, Sam followed her and Ben’s second passion of archeology in part to be able to spend time with him on his many jaunts around the world where he would dig up “really old stuff.”
After her mother died, and Sam completed her Air Force obligation, she felt a responsibility to come back to Phoenix and take care of her dad even though he would bitch and moan and remind her he could “take care of my own damn self.” Fact was, he was glad Sam had come home and was damn proud of his smart, independent daughter.
Once back in Phoenix, Ben and Sam decided to open a small aviation charter business and constructed a 7,000-foot runway on Ben’s ranch that could accommodate the Gulfstream 650, King Air 350, and Beechcraft Bonanza that Sam would use to ferry well-heeled business types and rock groups around the state or around the world. The aircraft also provided the transportation for Sam and Ben on their many archeological jaunts that they both treasured. While the business did not make much of a profit, it was something Ben and Sam worked on together, which made it worthwhile for both.
Sam had had a few men in her life over the years and knew she would settle down and have a family at some point, but she felt her life was complete and did not need a man to make her happy and content. In fact, her last breakup from a guy who played football for the Arizona Cardinals had made her swear off all men. That was after she came home early from work and found him in bed with a Cardinals cheerleader. The fact that she wasn’t even all that cute and dumber than a fence post pissed Sam off all the more.
When Jon and Tom first heard Sam would be joining their excursion, they expressed concern that a “girl” might slow them down. That was before they met Sam, who stood nearly six feet tall and weighed 140 pounds. While shapely in a good way, by men’s standards, Sam was also “cut.” Her arms and shoulders rippled with muscle as she loaded the ATVs and easily tossed forty-pound packs and heavy gear. It was clear Sam would not slow down anybody. The real question was, would the men slow down Sam? When Ben had told Sam about Jon and Tom, she expressed concern about her father taking off into the desert with co
nvicted felons. She went to the internet and studied up on both men. Based on what she read and her belief in her father’s sound judgment, she agreed that her father could go with the young men if she came along “for protection.”
Ben’s response was “Damn, you know you’re gettin’ old when your little girl needs to come along and take care of you in the desert.”
The quartet met at Elsa’s at 7:00 a.m. on a beautiful Saturday morning. Jon and Tom were surprised when they finally got to meet the fifth member of their ever-expanding troop. His name was Pax. He was a ninety-pound white German shepherd with blue eyes and a jovial disposition. He would ride with Ben and help with navigation. Pax never met a stranger and greeted Tom and Jon like long-lost drinking buddies before he jumped up into his seat next to Ben and patiently waited for the action to begin.
The four Hondas ATVs were loaded down with sleeping bags, fifty gallons of water, extra gas, a huge beach umbrella, and massive quantities of food, clothing, a propane gas grille, and one box of Milk Bones.
The three men, one woman, and one large dog wearing a new set of red Doggles, left Elsa’s at precisely 8:00 a.m. to try to locate the spot where Ben had found his piece of gold twenty-one years before.
The group knew that their chance of finding more gold in the desert was remote but the spirit of looking for gold treasure was euphoric. Pax barked his approval.
Led by Ben, the caravan drove at fifteen miles per hour on a circuitous route that avoided some creek beds, mesas, and deep gullies. After about thirty minutes and several stops to get his bearings, Ben raised his hand, and the four Hondas came to a stop at a nondescript area from which the group could still see Route 60 in the distance. “This is near where I found my piece,” Ben announced.
Tom, Sam, and Jon shut off their Hondas and unloaded their metal detectors then spent the next four hours combing an area the size of two football fields. All they found during their search was junk. To keep their spirits high, Pax moved from person to person and delivered affectionate licks to each just to let them know their efforts were appreciated. When they broke for lunch, the group sat under the umbrella and ate dried beef, cheese, apples, crackers, and Snickers bars. In addition to the fifty gallons of water, each team member carried a canteen that Ben warned them to drink from regularly. “You can die from thirst out here before you know it. We got plenty of water so keep drinking.”
