GOLDEN REICH

by Mark Donahue

  “Well,” that’s up to you, ’cause me and these boys have an agreement, and you’re gonna have to deal with them from this point on.”

  “You mean you’re the only American here? What of Becker and Rolle?”

  “Well, Rolle kinda killed ole Becker, and Rolle ain’t feelin’ too good himself right now, so like I said, this boy Eric here and his two friends are in charge of the gold, these two drivers, and you. So if I was you, I’d be a little more friendly-like to these boys and watch what you say about Germans.”

  Lester walked around to the back of the truck and motioned to one of the drivers being guarded by Victor to unlock the door. Moving to the handle, the driver unlatched the double bolts, and the steel doors split open. In the near darkness of the truck, Lester could see large wooden crates in the middle of a steel-reinforced truck floor. The crates were covered by a green tarp. Loosening the ropes that surrounded the load, he pulled back the tarp, lifted the top off the wooden crate, and saw the blood of a country.

  Chapter 40

  Vega Mine—2014

  The entrance to the Vega proved to be as impenetrable as it had been days earlier when Tom and Jon tried to find a way in. “This old girl is locked up tighter than a drum,” Ben said. “We’d need a whole bunch of dynamite to bust open that door.”

  “So let’s get some,” Jon said.

  “The dynamite isn’t the problem; the problem is we don’t know who owns this mine and even if we did, we’d need permission to get inside. And then if we found anything, we’d have to hand it over since it’s on their property.”

  “Ben’s right. I found out this mine is owned by the state, but some South American trust leases her for $5,000 a year with an option to buy her for $200,000,” Tom said.

  “How long is the lease?” Ben asked.

  “One hundred years.”

  “One hundred years? When was the option taken out?” Jon asked.

  “1918.”

  “Holy shit. You mean that lease/option is still active?”

  “Yep. This trust, which I tried to track down with no luck, has been paying the state of Arizona $5,000 a year for over ninety years. They mail a check to the state every April 20 like clockwork.”

  “What happens in 2018?” Sam asked.

  “Whoever has the option can either buy the mine for two hundred grand, or the mine reverts back to the state.”

  Impressed by Tom’s historical briefing, Sam, Ben, Jon, and Pax sat quietly as Tom went on. “Since the 1940s there’s been no record of anybody entering the Vega. In talking to an old guy at the library, who knows this area, he said there are hundreds of mines like this one and the Jasper that have been abandoned for years, and the state would like nothing better than to have some mining company come in and take a mine like this off their hands and start paying taxes.”

  “So are you saying that even if we did somehow get in this place and find a bazillion dollars in gold, we couldn’t by law take out any of it?” Jon asked.

  “That’s right. We really can’t do anything legally here until 2018. But I wanted to come back up here and look around and at least try to get a look inside, but that doesn’t look like a high probability at this point.”

  “Damn, I thought this was our best bet of the two. Do you think the Jasper is even worth wasting our time going through since it has been wide open for over a hundred years?” Jon asked. “After all, the only things we’re likely to find are remnants of frat parties and graffiti on the walls.”

  “You’re probably right, but who knows? There may be a connection between the mines, and since we’re already here we may as well see what we can find in the Jasper,” Ben said.

  Jon shrugged in agreement, and the five miners set out on their Hondas via the dirt road on the half hour ride from the Vega to the Jasper.

  After the group entered the Jasper, Tom asked, “Ben, ever been in this place?”

  “A few times.”

  “We came here a few days ago but never went back to that big hole in the ground we’ve read about. We chickened out.” Jon said.

  “That pit may not be the only thing to fear in this mine,” Ben said in a tone that got the attention of Tom and Jon.

  Despite its size, the Jasper smelled a bit like piss. Mild piss, but unmistakably and undeniably piss. The gold-hunting group surmised that over the years, hundreds of beer parties had led to several rivers of piss being dispensed throughout the mine by thousands of drunk students with overflowing bladders.

  With the front gate long ago destroyed, entering the mine was not an issue. The real issue was what could possibly be of value in a hundred-year-old mine that had been worked to death by one operator, deemed unproductive by another, and had served as a wide-open beer garden for several generations of teenagers.

  As they walked to the rear of the cavern, each person carried a powerful halogen heavy-duty lantern. The sunlight from the cavern opening gave way to shadows that led to near total darkness two hundred feet from the entrance. The temperature also dropped noticeably, and Tom noticed a breeze filtering through the cavern. Odd, he thought that any breeze at all could make its way from the entrance to their current position. He also discerned a slight pitch in the floor that seemed to drop at one to two degrees every fifty feet.

  As they approached the darkest part of the cavern, they saw a bright yellow line painted on the floor and a warning sign that stretched twenty-feet above them and appeared to run the entire width of the cave. In both English and Spanish, the sign read: “Danger: Open Pit 200 Feet Ahead.” Even in faded light, the signs picked up the sunlight of the cave opening.

  “Wonder if these signs stopped drunken college kids from checking out that pit?” Tom asked.

  “I doubt it, since it isn’t stopping us, and we’re not even drunk,” Jon said.

  “Jon’s right. I came here once or twice in high school, and the kids would ignore those signs and party further back toward the pit. It was scary back then and scary now.” Sam said.

  “You never told me that you came in this place when…,” Ben said as he looked askance at Sam.

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  Turning his attention from his wayward daughter to the fifth member of their group, Ben said, “Come here, Pax.” The white dog immediately came and sat next to Ben awaiting further orders. Ben pulled a leash out of his pocket and snapped it onto Pax’s collar before the group began a wary walk to the back of the cavern.

  The group moved more slowly as they went deeper and deeper into the cave. They felt and heard the breeze pick up in intensity and the temperature drop another few degrees.

  Approaching another group of signs that read “Danger: Open Pit 100 Feet Ahead,” the group stopped as they all noticed a more precipitous pitch in the floor. “This is where we stopped last time we were here, and I think a large percentage of even the drunkest kids may have stopped here too,” Jon said, as he focused his flashlight on the floor that was now angling more deeply into the darkness of the cavern.

  An ominous wind also emanated from the pit with a bass voice that seemed to speak directly to the group. Whatever it said, Pax did not like what he heard and barked at it. The wind rose and fell in intensity like a zephyr through a half-opened Kansas barn door in the spring. Metallic clangs could be heard from the darkness as well as other thumps and unrecognized movement, all of which echoed in the vastness then came and went as the wind sped through the cavern.

  “Kind of sounds like a warning,” Jon said.

  “Or a train,” Tom added.

  “Maybe I should stay at the front with Pax and watch the Hondas, you know, rear guard action,” Jon offered.

  “For a convicted felon, you’re kind of a wuss,” Sam observed.

  “Never said I was a good felon.”

  “Want to hold my hand, Rambo?”

  “I’m tougher than I l
ook.”

  “God, I hope so,” Sam mumbled.

  “Likely that pit has an opening at the bottom and air from the entrance meets with air coming up from the bottom of the pit and creates that sound,” Ben explained.

  “Oh good,” Jon said. “For a minute there I thought it was one of those famous pits where monsters climb up from the depths and eat people that get too far into this damn cave.”

  “I think you watched too much Sesame Street in prison,” Sam suggested.

  “Well, one thing’s for certain,” Tom said, “There’s no shortage of other places to look in this mine before we have to go any further toward that thing.”

  With that, the three men, one woman, and one relieved dog spent the next two days exploring every bit of the Jasper they could. They discovered shafts that led to nowhere and contained nothing except used condoms, hundreds of beer cans, assorted trash, two stripped cars, and the bones of a dog, which got Pax’s undivided attention. With every area they uncovered or air shaft that Jon or Sam ascended, they hoped that they would find something that would lead them to some answers and away from having to come back to explore the pit.

  During the two evenings that the group slept in the mine, they heard the low moans of wind barrel through the Jasper. While no one made reference to the obvious, each knew that if they were serious about finding gold, they would eventually have to swallow their fear and explore the black hole lurking at the back of the mine.

  On the morning of the third day, Tom and Jon awoke and found that Ben, Sam, and Pax were missing. After several minutes of calling their names and looking inside and outside the cavern, they went back to their camp site fifteen feet inside the opening to the Jasper and waited, not sure what to do next.

  Ben and Sam were normally up before the two younger men, fixing something for breakfast or poring over one of several maps that Ben brought on the trip and would eventually wake the two men shortly after sunrise. Not that day. Two sleeping bags and Pax’s bed were neatly rolled up along with the rest of their gear and stacked against the western wall of the mine. After another thirty minutes, Tom and Jon became genuinely concerned for the rest of their team.

  The men realized how much they had become dependent on Ben and how fond they were of him. They also realized how foolish they had been to assume they could have attempted such a trip without someone as knowledgeable and experienced as he was.

  The men had also grown fond of Sam. They respected her intellect, humor, and athletic prowess. Tom had particularly noticed that while Sam tried to downplay her looks by wearing glasses, no makeup, and oversized t-shirts, she was an attractive woman. She was fit and athletic, with long, toned legs. Her shoulder-length dark hair, always pulled back in a ponytail, would glisten in the sun when she let it down to dry in the warm desert air after washing it in a basin she had brought. On more than one occasion, particularly in the orange glow of a campfire, Tom found himself staring at Sam even when others were talking. Sam had felt Tom’s stare, although she pretended not to notice.

  Another endearing aspect about Sam was that Tom had become convinced she was the one who had placed the giant spider on his shoulder. He laughed at the thought, and it made him even more intrigued by her.

  Twenty minutes later, Ben, Sam, and Pax emerged from the back of the mine. “Morning, guys,” Ben said. “Couldn’t sleep any longer, and I wanted to get a closer look at that big hole in the back of this place. Sam and Pax decided to join me.”

  “You two shouldn’t be going back there alone, Ben,” Tom said, his concern etched in the harshness of his voice.

  “That’s right,” Jon echoed. “You could start moving down that grade too fast and God knows where you guys would end up.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Ben said, touched by the concern of the young men. “But I wanted to get a feel for just how large that damn hole is and what was it used for.”

  “What’d you learn?” Tom asked.

  “The pit is in the shape of a half circle and at its widest is about twenty-five to thirty feet across. From the front lip of the pit to the wall behind it, looks to be maybe twenty feet. So you have about 500–600 square feet of opening.

  “The three sides leading to the pit slope at least six to ten degrees. By dropping some rocks over the side, there appear to be a series of natural rock ledges on the left side as you face the hole, starting fifteen feet down that were three to four feet wide.”

  “Interesting,” Jon said. “But does knowing the dimensions lead to any conclusions as to what the pit was used for?”

  “Not exactly,” Ben said. “But hearing the rocks hit metal, wood, and stone as they fell, it’s pretty obvious people have been throwing stuff down that hole for a long time. And, if I was going to hide gold, I’d put it in the last place anybody would want to look, which is right down in that damn hole.”

  Chapter 41

  Jasper Mine—1943

  “Lord have mercy,” Lester whispered. The yellowish beam from his flashlight made the shimmering gold in the back of the truck look like thick honey had dripped down the sides of the ingots.

  The gold was stacked in rows on thick steel pallets. There were at least sixteen pallets on the truck, and each pallet held 100 ingots, weighing 2000 pounds per pallet. In total, there were nearly 1700 twenty-pound ingots of pure gold reflecting in Lester’s flashlight. Thirty-four thousand pounds, nearly 540,000 ounces with a 1943 value of over twenty million dollars, glimmered back at Lester. But at that moment what Lester saw in the back of the Ford truck precluded him from thinking in terms of dollars. All he knew was he was looking at a shitload of gold.

  “You mean there are eleven more trucks like this?” Lester asked no one in particular.

  “Yes,” the Frenchman said. “And each has armed guards loyal to the Reich who will stop at nothing to protect this gold. Plus they will not come to this mine unless I personally meet them at the appropriate time and place.”

  Ignoring Dubois, Lester pulled down the overhead door of the Ford and casually motioned the two disarmed guards to move away from the truck with his .45. “Well, like I said, my partner Eric here and I have a deal. I’m gonna take this here truck and get on down the road, and the next eleven of ’em belong to Eric and these boys. If I was you, Frenchy, I’d probably consider making a deal with them. If not, you may end up poor or dead, neither of which ain’t really a good thing.” Lester said as he climbed into the truck’s driver’s seat.

  Lester nonchalantly started the Ford, then looked at Eric, Willy, Victor, Dubois, and the other two drivers through the windshield. He wondered if they were going to let him drive out of the mine with enough gold to last a hundred lifetimes. Or was somebody going to die?

  As he put the Ford into gear, Lester’s heart dropped when Eric stepped in front of the truck holding his rifle and stood in the glare of the headlights. Eric looked up at Lester then walked slowly around to the driver’s door never taking his eyes off him. Feeling his .45 in his belt, Lester thought about trying to fight his way out of the mine if need be, but instead, he stuck his hand out the open window, smiled at Eric and said, “Well ole boy, it’s been good doin’ business with you. Take care of yourself now, y’hear.”

  Lester held out his hand for a few seconds and was almost as relieved as he was shocked when Eric shook his hand and said, “The people of Germany owe you a debt of gratitude. Be safe, my friend.”

  Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Lester replied, “Thanks, boy, you stay safe too.”

  Looking in the truck’s rearview mirrors as he left the mine, Lester wondered what the five Germans and one Frenchman would decide to do with eleven truckloads of gold. Hell, he wondered what he was going to do with one.

  After he slowly exited the Jasper, Lester kept looking in his mirrors waiting for someone to come running out with a rifle and try to stop him. No one did.

  As the heavy-duty Ford
struggled up the steep hill adjacent to the mine, it stalled three times. Finally reaching the crest of the hill, Lester made a sharp right turn and let out a sigh of relief as he finally picked up some speed and headed down the dirt road that would eventually lead back to Phoenix. He sweated and shook as he held onto the steering wheel as snippets of the blood and carnage of the previous days flashed into his brain.

  Only minutes before, Lester was not only questioning the very existence of the gold but after confirming it was real, wondered if he would be able to leave the cave without a fight. And now he was bumping down a dirt road with a truck filled with more gold that he knew existed in the world.

  Over the previous twenty years, Lester’s life had been a day-to-day existence. His idea of long-range planning was where he could find a free lunch. Yet, he now had untold millions in gleaming gold behind him, and he had absolutely no idea what the hell he would do next.

  Several miles from the Jasper, Lester pulled off the road into the desert and drove a quarter mile into a flat area near some large boulders. He turned off the ignition and sat in the desert dusk and tried to think. So much had happened over the last three days that he wondered if it was all real. Were his friends really dead? Did he really shoot all those krauts? Was that metal in the back of the Ford really gold?

  Going into the back of the Ford, he again lifted the tarp and stared. At least the damn gold looked real. And he knew his friends were dead. He wished like hell they were still around and able to share in what the gold could do.

  Back in the driver’s seat, Lester looked out over the desert in the fading light of a late summer evening. He was taken by the beauty he now saw before him. He was also shaken by the horror of the last few days. Suddenly, his emotions erupted, and he began to cry over his murdered friends and the realization that nothing in his life was ever going to be the same again. He knew at that moment he could no longer live his life as he had. That was no longer an option, excuse, or escape. He now had responsibility. He had decisions to make.