THE ROOSEVELT CONSPIRACY

by Matt James

  Both men turned to Bull. He was a wealth of knowledge when it came to his people’s history. Hawk had shown himself to be very well-informed as well. With both men’s familiarity, Jack might just understand what the hell he was looking at.

  Bull took a deep breath. He looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “I’m not sure…but if I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with the Emergence.”

  “The Emergence?” Jack asked.

  Hawk eyed him. “You don’t know about the Emergence—the Lakota creation story?”

  “Enlighten me,” Jack replied.

  Both men quieted and, once again, turned their attention to the elder Lakotan.

  “Supposedly,” Bull explained, “our people’s history begins with an event called the Emergence. Years ago, before the surface world was ready to support humanity, the indigenous tribe of this region lived underground in the Tunkan Tipi—the Spirit Lodge. To get back to this ‘heavenly’ place, a person had to find a magical portal.”

  “More portals…” Jack mumbled, scratching his head.

  “I’ll jump around a little now. This will take a while if I don’t.” He continued. “Two beings were banished to the outside world for defying Takuskanskan, the Creator.”

  “Sounds a lot like Adam and Eve,” Jack commented.

  Bull nodded. “It does, which shouldn’t shock anyone, though there were more than just two people living in this iteration of ‘Eden.’ Every civilization on this planet has similarities baked within their own creation stories.”

  “So,” Jack said, “are we to believe that this place once housed the earliest of the Lakota tribe?”

  “It’s possible, yes,” Bull answered, not sounding too sure.

  “Possible?” Hawk asked, laughing. “I’d say it’s pretty damn clear! Look where we are? We know Roosevelt found this place in the early 1900s. Even a century ago, this place had been long-deserted.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Bull argued. “Just because Roosevelt didn’t mention anyone living down here, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

  “Guys!” Jack yelled, silencing his compatriots. “Look, this is all good stuff, but what we need to figure out is how in the hell we’re getting out of here.”

  Hawk thumbed over his shoulder, back toward the entrance.

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “Zietz could be waiting to gun us down.”

  Hawk raised his eyebrows, and he pointed to the tunnel.

  Jack shrugged. “At least there won’t be anyone trying to shoot us.”

  Bull didn’t argue. He typically went along with Jack, as long as it wasn’t anything too crazy. So, they forged ahead and ducked into the cramped corridor. Almost immediately, there were signs of habitation. Their flashlights showed a well-worn path. It would’ve taken several generations of bare feet to wear down stone like this.

  But how long ago? Jack wondered.

  He wasn’t an anthropologist. Jack had no idea when early man had arrived in what would become the Great Plains of the United States. He knew they had migrated from Siberia to Alaska around 13,000 years ago, using a land bridge that had once spanned the Bering Strait. The timeline in Bull’s creation story would’ve been long before that, though.

  Unless the Emergence was a misinterpretation?

  That was an option. As the world grew bitterly cold, humanity would’ve been driven underground. They could’ve stayed beneath the surface for so long that their Emergence was actually just their ‘reemergence’ into the above world. It was a theory Jack would keep to himself. It was a fascinating thought, but probably something he would never find any evidence of.

  “What’s that?” Hawk asked, pointing the beam of his flashlight into an adjacent room.

  The space was ample, not the largest he had ever seen, but still, it was impressive. At the center of it was a pair of thick, rectangular cut igneous stone slabs. They inched toward them, coming across the bones of several different animals as they did. Jack hoped they were animals.

  “Bear,” Bull said softly, pointing to an indistinguishable mass. Jack would have to trust his knowledge of the species because he couldn’t see what Bull had. The tracker also confirmed the remains of a handful of wolves and dozens of deer. They slowed their approach as the piles grew denser, eventually becoming so thick that they were forced to stop entirely.

  “Woah!” Hawk said, hands shaking.

  “Yes,” Jack agreed, “very ‘woah!’”

  The two slabs each held a body, entombed in high honor. They laid on their backs with their arms crossed on their chests. In their hands were the weapons of hunters. The person on the right, the larger of the two skeletons, clutched a spear in both hands. His or her partner gripped a dagger carved from the oversized canine of a saber-toothed cat. But it wasn’t what they held that had caught Jack’s attention. His eyes were fixed on what they wore—specifically on their heads.

  Mr. Spearman wore a lion’s skull on his head. The smaller of the two dead persons also wore a skull. Theirs matched that of the dagger—a saber-toothed cat.

  “Um,” Hawk muttered, “is that a lion’s skull on that guy’s head?”

  Jack nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

  He looked at Jack. “And when did we last have lions in North America?”

  Both men glanced at Bull. The elder Lakotan bit his lip, then answered, “Roughly ten thousand years ago. They were much bigger than their modern-day African cousins too. It would’ve been a great honor to take one down.” He pointed at his own head. “Hence the crown.”

  “And the Smilodon?” Jack asked. He knew a little about them, but not enough to have an in-depth discussion.

  “The same,” Bull added. “They both became extinct in North America around the same time.”

  So, Jack thought, this place ‘is’ older than the pyramids in Egypt!

  As far as Jack knew, only one group of people hunted and killed predators of the ilk of the American lion and the saber-toothed cat. It was hard to comprehend that’s who this was, but here they were, standing before a primitive “king” and “queen.” Jack figured that these two had been royals of some kind. Their private burial chamber led to that.

  “So,” Jack said, clearing his throat, “they’re, um, cavemen?”

  “Perhaps,” Bull replied, “but—”

  “Perhaps?” Hawk asked, facing his uncle. He looked as if he was about to explode.

  Jack patted the worked-up youngster on the shoulder. “Easy, Mr. Flintstone. We’re all friends here.”

  Bull continued his thought. “I think we are looking at a long-lost Clovis civilization.”

  “Clovis?” Jack asked, unfamiliar with the name.

  “Yes, ‘Clovis,’” Bull replied. “They are said to be the very first Paleo-Indian people in North America—the ancestors of nearly all Native American tribes.”

  “This seems a little progressive for a society that old,” Jack said.

  “It does,” Bull agreed. “Chalk it up to an evolutionary anomaly, I suppose. It doesn’t matter, though. What we know is that the society of Clovis people that inhabited these caves were incredibly advanced.”

  “Advanced?” Hawk asked, calming down.

  Jack tipped his head back the way they had come. “Yeah. They built the sisters, right? I doubt a normal sect of knuckle draggers could’ve done that. These guys were way beyond that.”

  Bull glanced at Jack. “I think we’ve established that they weren’t actually cavemen.”

  He pointed at the ceiling. “Where are we standing?”

  “A cave,” Hawk replied.

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay, fine,” Bull said. “Maybe at some point in the past, they were…cavemen.”

  Hawk thought about it, then shrugged. “That’s kinda cool, right? We’re direct descendants of an advanced society of ancient people.”

  The slightest of smiles formed on the big man’s face. “Yes, that is pretty cool.”

  The
trio left the royal couple behind and continued deeper into their realm. They moved with a fresh perspective and vigor. They would be lying if they said they weren’t excited by what they had learned. The Seven Sisters didn’t technically belong to the Lakota culture. They belonged to something much older than that. That fact didn’t bother anyone either. Plenty of cultures adopted their belief systems based on others. It happened all the time throughout history as one society merged, or flat out, overtook another. The Catholic Church was one of the biggest culprits of forced ‘cultural assimilation.’ Jack recalled the first time he had learned that December 25th, Christmas Day, was originally a Pagan holiday dedicated to Mithra, god of the unconquerable sun, and that Jesus Christ hadn’t actually been born on that day.

  The passage wasn’t easy to navigate. It weaved back and forth, and it dropped and rose. But luckily for them, the only other spaces besides the main path were dead-ending caves. Each of those hollows held more bodies. But these were communal crypts. Unlike the first two they found, the others had been entombed with numerous others. And none of them wore the skulls of the megafauna. It confirmed their usage as a type of primordial crown.

  “Hey, guys,” Hawk said, showing his light around a large room at the end of the tunnel. “You see this?”

  Jack had not. He had been the last to enter. But when he turned to look, he noticed what Hawk had seen. Every surface of the space sparkled. It was as if the beams of their flashlights were creating stars on the walls and ceilings. Jack followed the Durhams into the center of the domed chamber. The highest-most point was just over thirty feet above their heads.

  “Over here,” Jack said, pointing up.

  Bull and Hawk combined their lights with his. When they did, they saw what was causing the peculiar glimmer.

  “Ho-ly shit,” Jack said, barely able to comprehend what he saw.

  “Uh,” Hawk added, “are those—”

  Bull finished the sentence. “Diamonds.” He looked at Jack, who met his gaze. “Millions of dollars in diamonds.”

  Black Buffalo Resort and Casino

  Cascade, Wyoming

  Creed was furious. His most trusted ally was ignoring his texts and calls. Zietz had been known to go rogue, but not in times like this. In the current climate, Creed could no longer take Zietz’s trust at face value. He needed to cut his losses before the man’s actions did him in. Picking up his phone, he dialed a number he knew well. While the chief of police was a man of integrity, his second-in-command was not.

  The call rang only once. “Yes?”

  “Lieutenant Bender, I have some information for you,” Creed said. He needed to be careful with his words.

  “Is this about the current…situation?”

  Creed leaned forward. “It is.”

  “Tell me what you know, and I’ll handle it with my most loyal men.”

  Creed went over what Bender needed to know, including the repeated failures of Tom Zietz. If it all went according to his plan, everyone involved would be dead within the hour.

  “Where are they now?” Bender asked.

  Creed smiled. “They’re at Devils Tower.”

  19

  Devils Tower

  Crook County, Wyoming

  After ignoring three calls and two text messages from Creed, Zietz powered off his phone. He had no intention of speaking to the man again until his mission was over. And if Zietz couldn’t end things here, he would have to make a vital decision on what to do next. Either he would be silenced, or Creed would be.

  Killing Creed had always been an option for Zietz. If he permanently quieted the voice of the man who had paid him to do all those terrible things, then there was a chance he could walk away and start over somewhere else. If he followed through with his “escape plan,” Zietz already had the perfect place in mind.

  Even now, in the chilling wind and rain of northeast Wyoming, he could feel the warm, Costa Rican sun on his face. The entire family, including Tommy, had solidly built aliases in their back pockets if they required a quick getaway.

  Thomas Mankins sold health insurance. He had never harmed a single person in his life. And though he was a mountain of a man, Mankins never played any sports growing up, nor had he ever been interested in the military or law enforcement. Come to think of it, Thomas Mankins didn’t even own a gun.

  He was a gentle giant.

  Zietz smiled at the possibility of leaving it all behind unscathed. And with each failed attempt to right things, Zietz was beginning to think the farfetched idea of escaping to Costa Rica was getting close and closer to becoming a reality.

  “Move out!” he shouted, getting his men moving. He removed his phone from his pocket and powered it on long enough to send his wife a single text. She knew the plan as well as anyone. It had been her idea to move to Costa Rica, after all.

  Zietz spelled out a single word.

  “Leave.”

  If he failed again, Tom Zietz would be no more…one way or the other.

  “Over here!”

  Zietz turned and hurried over to one of his men. He was standing over the cliff that had mysteriously swallowed Jack and the others. Zietz was the last member of the team to arrive, pushing through the others to see what it was that had them all so worked up. Even within the beams of four flashlights, it was hard to see. The swirling rain aided in the discovery’s concealment. But then, in the light of a powerful lightning strike, Zietz saw it. Beneath the shrubs at the foot of the cliff face was a dark void.

  Zietz smiled wide. “I’ve got you.”

  Beneath Devils Tower

  Crook County, Wyoming

  Diamond mines were nothing new to the area. Since 1975, over 130,000 diamonds had been found all along the Wyoming-Colorado state line. While more well-known for its jade deposits, Wyoming was becoming a hotbed for other precious gem exploration. Only a small portion of the state had been mapped out, making it an intriguing venture for companies in the mining industry.

  Like diamonds, Jack thought, closing his eyes.

  “This just got a lot more complicated.”

  Bull and Hawk paused their conversation and turned toward him.

  “What do you mean?” Hawk asked.

  As he always did, Bull stayed quiet and waited for Jack to say whatever was on his mind. He unconsciously adjusted his holstered pistol as he spoke. “Creed wants this place based solely on what Roosevelt described. Imagine what he’ll do with everything else we’ve found.”

  Bull frowned. “He’ll hide it, and then, he’ll pillage it.”

  “Exactly. Creed and his investors won’t care about the historical significance. All they’ll focus on is the untapped diamond cache.”

  “We can’t let that happen,” Hawk said, squeezing his flashlight hard.

  Jack smiled. “You know, I was wrong about you…”

  “How so?” Hawk replied.

  “Before I climbed Devils Tower, I scoffed at the notion of you being a ranger.” Jack placed an encouraging hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Now, I think you’d make a fine addition to the NPS.”

  Hawk beamed with pride. “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”

  “No problem.” Jack winked. “Just don’t get a big head over it, okay?”

  They split up and checked every square inch of the cave for another passageway. After finding nothing, they regrouped at the center of the space.

  “Why didn’t Roosevelt admit to seeing any of this?” Bull asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Jack replied. “Maybe he thought it was too great a discovery to mention.”

  Hawk rubbed the sleep from his face as he spoke. “You said it yourself, Jack; it’s a note, not a letter. I bet he was making a list of the things he saw, then stopped when he found all of this.”

  “I think he did,” Bull said. “His ‘wealth of a nation’ quote could’ve also included everything beyond the sisters.”

  “It’s burnt too,” Hawk added. “I think it’s safe to assume that this wasn’t the on
ly sheet of paper. I mean, think about it. Why would he only carry a single piece of paper with him? I bet he had a stack of them and burned everything to hide it.”

  “Okay,” Jack said. “I can believe that.”

  They stood in silence and bathed in the twinkling, reflective light of the precious gemstones.

  “We were incredibly lucky that Roosevelt found this first,” Jack said. “Anyone else probably would’ve set up shop and stripped this place clean.”

  Bull nodded. “A conservationist through and through.”

  “I have a question,” Hawk announced. Jack and Bull eyed him. “What do we do now? We can’t leave—not with Zietz and his goon squad still outside.”

  “And shooting our way out isn’t an option,” Jack said, earning a nod from both Durhams. They were at a severe disadvantage when it came to firepower and position. Zietz had the high ground. He could sit and wait for Jack and the others to starve, if need be.

  “He’ll come to us,” Jack decided, thinking it over.

  “How do you know?” Bull asked.

  “Because,” Jack removed the Ziploc-sealed letter from his jacket pocket and held it up, “he needs this. This is all they’ve cared about since we got here.”

  “You are correct.”

  Jack, Bull, and Hawk all spun and drew their weapons. There, in the doorway to the diamond cave, was Zietz and the trio from earlier. No one fired a shot. They just stood there, sizing the other group up.

  “No one has to die down here,” Jack said, aim steady. His sights, and pistol light, were squarely on Zietz.

  “Once again, you are correct.” Zietz’s eyes darted around the room. So did the eyes of the other men fanned out beside him. Knowing they were boned, Jack decided to make a deal with Bigfoot. He held out his left hand but didn’t lower his gun. It was as non-threatening a posture as he was willing to offer.

  “Let us go without a fight, and this place—these diamonds—are yours.”

  Zietz’s focus didn’t waver. But the same couldn’t be said for his men. They were interested in the offer. They weren’t Zietz. They had no skin in the game besides the money they were being paid. But this, the wealth on display, would easily satiate any hired gunman’s thirst. Mercenaries, big-city or small-town, valued money more than anything.