THE ROOSEVELT CONSPIRACY

by Matt James

  “Take the deal, Tom,” Hawk urged, voice soft. “I have some pretty damning stuff about to be released online, and I can’t cancel it while we are underground.”

  Jack held back his smile. As far as he knew, Hawk didn’t have anything concrete on Zietz, just people talking about him while also mentioning Creed.

  Hawk continued, “If you let us walk, it’s gone. I’ll pause the release and edit any mention of you out. The blame will go squarely to Creed. You have my word.”

  The young man then did something incredibly brave. He slipped his gun back into his jeans and stepped in front of Jack and Bull. Hands raised, he spoke, focusing his attention on the man who had nearly killed them on several occurrences—Nina too.

  “None of us have to die. We can all leave him behind and disappear.”

  Zietz gripped his pistol hard. “You’re right. None of us have to die.” He pulled the trigger—but not before swinging his weapon around on his own men. All three of his people were shot and killed in a matter of seconds. No one, not even a combat veteran like Jack, had seen that coming. At the end of the massacre, only Zietz stood at the other end of the diamond cave.

  “I accept your offer. I may be a monster, but I have a family to protect.”

  Slowly, and without another word, Jack, Bull, and Hawk stepped toward the entryway. They gave Zietz a wide berth, just in case. For his part, Bigfoot allowed them to pass without further conflict. He knew what the stakes were. His men could’ve handled Jack’s team. They had the numbers and the firepower to do so.

  But not without their own causalities, Jack thought. Either way, the risk of being killed was too high for Zietz to risk. His life mattered to him. His men, on the other hand…

  They needed to be careful with Zietz. It wouldn’t shock anyone if he instantly went back on the deal. A butcher like him couldn’t be trusted—ever. Usually the one to take the lead, Jack allowed Bull and Hawk to enter the tunnel back to the Seven Sisters first. He took a second to size up Zietz before disappearing into the darkness. He took a deep breath and hauled ass after his friends. Zietz might be on their side as of now, but there was no telling how long the ceasefire would last.

  Zietz hoped he wouldn’t regret the decision he had just made. As soon as Jack and the Durhams left, he rushed to the nearest wall. He swiftly unsheathed the knife he kept at the small of his back and got to work on as many diamonds as possible. They were tough, but he managed to get a few of the largest ones, some of the biggest diamonds he had ever seen, free. A handful of them required him to use his pistol as a hammer.

  He removed his expensive jacket, tossed it on the ground, and dropped each of the raw gemstones into it. Zietz was sweating profusely by the time the garment was full. It was incredible to think that his collection was only a small percentage of what was here. Not only could his family start over, but they would be able to live like kings once he found a buyer.

  Zietz raised his pistol for another strike but paused it in midair. He was about to hammer free another sizable diamond but got an idea. If he could silence anyone that knew about this place, then he could return here anytime he wanted. For that to work, he needed to kill Jack Reilly and the Durham men. Standing erect, he cracked his neck and flipped his gun around. He quickly checked it over and was happy to see that he hadn’t damaged it while dislodging any diamonds. He expelled the half-spent magazine and let it fall to the cave floor with a clatter. It was the only noise except for his breathing. Zietz replaced the ‘mag’ with a fresh one. He collected his overflowing jacket, tied it up like a trash bag, and tossed it over his shoulder. Satisfied with his plan, Zietz headed for the door.

  He stopped beside the bodies of the men he had just killed. If he had not reacted so hastily, he would’ve had a team at his disposal instead of having to go at it alone.

  But then they’d know that I let them go. If he hadn’t killed his team when he did, Zietz would’ve had to have killed them now, either way.

  He had made the right call. Zietz needed Creed to think that everything he was doing was because of the letter and not because he had turned on his boss. Creed had threatened Zietz’s family. In Zietz’s book, it meant that Creed was now number one on his hit list. At this point, Jack and the Durhams were just secondary causalities.

  Hawk ran for his life…again. It seemed to be a common theme when he was in the company of Jack Reilly. Even his uncle had said the same thing. The two had been on some exciting adventures together since he joined the National Parks Service.

  Feeling his phone slip, Hawk grasped it and lifted it out from between his jeans and his belt. He had turned off the camera light and stashed it just before Zietz and his men showed up. It was a chance happening—one that had greatly benefitted them. Thankfully, there was plenty of other artificial light in the cavern.

  “Tell me you got that!” Jack shouted, spotting the device.

  Hawk smiled wide and held it up. “You’re damn right I did!”

  “And your promise to edit Zietz out?”

  “Screw him!” Hawk laughed. “I lied!”

  He would’ve whooped into the air in celebration, but Hawk was too winded to do so. Before he knew it, they had passed the king and queen’s chamber. Next was the short distance between it and the cavern with the Seven Sisters. He couldn’t help it. Hawk had to slow down and appreciate them one last time. Now that they knew their origin—sort of—he understood their design. They didn’t resemble any Lakotan people he had ever seen. Their clothing and hair were all wrong.

  It’s because they aren’t Lakotan!

  The revelation that his people were descended from an advanced cave dweller culture was fantastic, though, still hard to fully grasp. But did it change anything they knew about the Lakota tribe? Maybe, but he didn’t have the luxury of time. He would have to put it all together at a later date. Luckily, he had a phone packed with pictures and videos he could go through.

  Jack hung back, but not because he was admiring the view. He was watching their backs. Jack didn’t trust Zietz—and for a good reason.

  Bull moved off ahead of them, stopping at the staircase. Hawk and Jack groaned in unison. Both men had forgotten about the stairs until now.

  “You okay, Jack?” Hawk asked, turning and watching Jack limp toward him.

  Jack shook his head and shooed him along. “No. Keep going.”

  20

  Cold rainwater poured in from above. It was going to make the climb back to the surface even harder than it already was. The storm must’ve gotten a lot worse from the looks of it. Jack had hoped that it had gone the other way. He offered to go last but was quickly forced to go first. Bull took Jack’s earlier position at the rear of the pack instead.

  “If you fall, we’ll catch you,” Bull argued.

  “No, you won’t,” Jack said, shaking his head. “If I fall, we all fall.”

  “Hey, Jack?” Hawk said, looking very sincere.

  “What?”

  Hawk tipped his chin upward. “Move your ass.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and began his ascent. It was slow going. He was forced to test every single rung before trusting it with his full weight. After twenty feet of success, he nearly fell through one of the rungs. The wood was ancient and creaked and groaned.

  “Avoid the middle,” he instructed, wiping water from his face. “Keep in contact with the ropes at all times.”

  “Copy that,” Hawk replied.

  Jack felt the ladder beneath him shift as both men quickly followed his instructions. He did the same and grunted, grasping each side of the thickly woven rope. The adjustment made the skin on his shoulder pull in an uncomfortable direction.

  Jack was surprised by how short the climb was. The fall had felt so much further. In retrospect, thirty feet of it was pure airtime before they smashed through the hidden barrier. Jack’s shoulder screamed with every movement. Bull’s treatment was holding firm, though. The pain killers were kicking in too. They weren’t the end-all, but they had taken
the edge off—enough to let him function.

  He was ten feet from the surface when the rung beneath him splintered. Jack hollered in surprise. He scraped for purchase with his feet, dangling by one hand. He desperately tried to use his left hand to steady himself but couldn’t do so without tearing apart the stitches in his shoulder. Doing what he could, he wrapped his feet around the rope and pinned it in place. The maneuver took enough weight off his upper body to allow him to readjust.

  So did a little help from a friend.

  A hand grabbed his ass and pushed. Jack had no idea who was below him, but the added boost was all he needed to gain a foothold on the next rung. It held, and with it, Jack relaxed and thanked his rescuer.

  “Thanks, Bull.”

  “Wow, bro, that hurts.”

  “Hawk?” Jack asked, looking down. There, barely visible beneath his feet, was the younger Durham. Jack had instinctively figured it was Bull that had, once again, saved him from death.

  “The one and only,” Hawk replied. “You know, you’re a lot heavier than you look.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bull muttered from below. The jab made both Jack and Hawk smile.

  Jack gazed up at the opening. “Don’t you start too.”

  Devils Tower

  Crook County, Wyoming

  The top of Jack’s head cleared the rim of the entry point. When it did, it was jabbed with pointy, quill-like branches. He paid the annoyance no attention and focused on the landscape beyond the shrubs. It wasn’t easy, however. The foliage was dense, obscuring more than it revealed. They would have to exit slowly and take in the landscape a little at a time. If they made too much noise, it would expose their position. Methodically, Jack emerged. He moved with the weather. The natural elements hid him well. There was plenty of thunder and wind. The park was still getting battered.

  Jack stayed low, crawling on his belly. Hawk wasn’t as stealthy with his movements. The younger man was less careful and crashed through the flexible limbs with little to no disregard for the racket he was causing. If anyone were nearby, they would’ve undoubtedly heard them.

  Dammit, man.

  Bull was the last to surface. When he was halfway out, he stopped and looked down between his feet. Jack noticed and slithered over to the hole and peered into the darkness. The sight of a soft glow caused the men to scramble to safety, much like Hawk had just done.

  “Well,” Hawk said, “there goes our deal with Bigfoot.”

  “You don’t know that,” Jack urged.

  Hawk gave him a look that said, “Really?”

  Jack nodded. “Right. It’s Zietz we’re talking about.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Nothing,” Jack said. “We keep moving and disappear into the storm.”

  In agreement, they all crawled out from beneath the shrubbery, stopping when a beam of light swung their way. As far as Jack knew, Zietz had brought all his men down into the hole. He recalled there only being three others.

  Then who the hell are these guys?

  Jack spotted one of them. He was about fifty feet from the cliff face, and he was wearing street clothes. But the way he carried himself screamed of either military or police. Witnessing firsthand the depth of Cascade’s corruption, Jack was leaning towards these guys being dirty cops.

  “How many more can there be?” Jack asked himself, earning a look from Bull. He shook his head. The question wasn’t meant to be answered.

  They stayed put until the beam of light left their cover. When it did, they each emerged from beneath the foliage and sat on their asses. Jack went first and pushed. The steep grade and wet earth aided in their exodus, and they slid down the hill before halting at the base of a thick pine tree. Huddled in the shadows, the trio watched the bushes shake and crack as Bigfoot materialized. When he did, something incredible happened.

  A gunfight broke out.

  Bullets were sent in Zietz’s direction. The big guy dove sideways and sent a volley toward his aggressor. The person that had almost spotted Jack and the Durhams went down, sending a trio of bullets harmlessly into the air as he did. The cacophony of thunderous booms overhead was no match for the much louder concussive blasts of gunfire. A mass of lights spun toward the cliff face, and with it, a war broke out between whoever these people were and Zietz. Not only did the newcomers want Jack, Bull, and Hawk dead, but it seemed as if Zietz had been added to the hit list as well. Muzzle flashes ignited everywhere around them.

  It was all Jack needed to know to get moving again. Hugging the thick tree, the trio edged around it and continued their charge to safety. Unfortunately, their escape had been noticed. A stream of automatic gunfire chased after them. Jack had no idea how it had happened, but none of them had been hit. He chalked it up to good fortune and didn’t stop.

  The projectiles’ origin turned on another target—Zietz. For a moment, Jack and the others were clear. They darted left, diagonally evading another barrage of bullets.

  “Shit!” Hawk shouted, grabbing at his ear.

  “You hit?” Jack asked, pulling the trigger of his pistol twice. The shots wouldn’t do much else except delay the next assault.

  “Sort of. They got my hair!”

  A stray round had gotten close enough to the back of Hawk’s head that it had chewed through his swaying ponytail. Jack skidded to a halt and pushed the Durhams into cover. He was acting rashly, and Hawk had almost paid the price.

  “Take this and go,” he said, handing Bull the Ziploc-sealed letter.

  “No,” his dear friend replied.

  Bullets tore into the other side of the tree. All three men ducked down and covered their heads with their hands.

  “This isn’t a debate, Bull. You two need to go and get the news out.” He looked deeply into the man’s eyes. “You need to protect your nephew.”

  Bull didn’t look happy, but he nodded and grabbed Hawk’s collar. Impressively, the younger man tried to yank free of his uncle’s vise grip. But Bull hung on and dragged him away, kicking and screaming. Standing, Jack put his back to the tree and took a deep breath. He only had one and a half magazines left. If he could keep the force’s attention on Zietz and not him, he could make it work.

  The nearest gunman was fifty or sixty yards to his right and back up the hill a little. There could’ve easily been others within range, but Jack doubted it. Bunching up was the easiest way to get an entire team killed. He spied a second beam of light as it joined the first.

  Jack shrugged. Or not.

  He sprinted out of cover, gun up. Not only did Jack arrive and shoot the two men—but so did Zietz. They each snapped their weapons toward the other. Neither one of them fired, though. They both dove away and retaliated to someone else.

  “Are we really doing this?” Jack asked, laughing while checking his ammo.

  “Doing what?” Zietz shouted, leaning out from behind a neighboring tree.

  “Are we teaming up in the face of a greater enemy?”

  “For now, yes,” Zietz said.

  Both of their trees were obliterated. Heads low, they scurried away and ducked beneath a third, hulking tree. Jack was so close to the man that he could smell his sweat. It was as uncomfortable a setting as any.

  “Fine by me,” Jack said, leaning around the tree and firing. “We can always kill each other later.”

  They separated, and each sent four rounds into a duo of shooters. They each sprinted towards the fallen shooters and acquired their rifles—police issue Colt M4 carbines. It confirmed the identities of the newcomers.

  “I guess Creed no longer requires your services,” Jack said, keeping his head on a swivel as he reloaded the rifle.

  The news didn’t seem to shock Zietz. The soaking wet breaded giant didn’t react at all, except for shouldering the weapon and pulling the trigger. The three-round burst zipped past Jack’s head and sent another gunman sprawling to the sodden earth. His lifeless form immediately began to slide down the heavy grade. Jack got a wicked idea. Zietz eyed the
dead man too.

  “Ever been to Six Flags?” Jack asked.

  They rushed forward, leapt into the air, and landed on their butts. Zietz led the way with Jack close behind. It took everything in him not to shoot Bigfoot in, what he presumed was, his hairy back. Jack didn’t kill in cold blood. Zietz had already saved his life multiple times since they both emerged from the portal to the underworld.

  Aiming left, Jack took out anyone he saw. Zietz focused on the targets to his right. They traveled the length of two football fields and came to a stop when the ground abruptly leveled off. When it did, Jack was met with the barrel of a rifle. On one knee, Zietz pointed the weapon at Jack’s chest. He didn’t pull the trigger immediately.

  “Sorry, Mr. Reilly.”

  His delay saved Jack’s life.

  Out of nowhere, Bull came charging forward. He tackled Zietz to the ground, pinning his face in a shallow stream of rushing rainwater. Slowly drowning, Zietz released the hold on his M4 and bucked wildly. Bull was nearly thrown, but not before Jack added his weight too. Surprisingly, Hawk was next, though he didn’t leap atop the leviathan. Instead, Hawk slid to the ground on his knees. He had zip ties clutched in both hands. In a blur of motion, he cuffed Zietz’s wrists together. Then, he drew his gun, and without missing a beat, he bashed Bigfoot over the head with it.

  Zietz’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped to the ground.

  “That’s for Nina, asshole!”

  The next question was, what to do with him?

  “Come on,” Jack said, pulling Hawk away. There were still others out there. “We need to go.”

  Hawk was breathing heavily, still gripping his pistol hard. The look on his face was one Jack had seen too many times. He was internally debating whether to kill Zietz or not. Jack recalled being in the same situation several times when he had been overseas with Delta. To an average person, killing another human being was never an easy decision, even when the shithead on the other end of your sights deserved to die.