"It's a good start because you're already talking about what I want to know."
"What?"
"Don't stop now," she said, standing up straight. "You're on a roll. Tell me. Who do you work for?"
"You want to know who I work for? Why? So you can go after them? Think again. No one goes after them because they're everywhere and everyone. Just when you think you can trust someone, you find out they're in on it, too."
"Who do you work for?" she asked again. "Tell me everything you know."
He shook his head vigorously. "No. No way. There's nothing you can do to make me talk. Anything you could do to me, they'll do ten times worse. And then they'll do it to everyone I know."
"Oh," Adriana said in a mock sympathetic tone. "You have a family? Wife and kids?"
"N-no," he stammered.
She wasn't sure if she believed him, so she applied a little pressure to his groin with the heel of her boot.
"Ah!" he yelled. "I'm telling you the truth! I don't have any family. My parents died years ago. I was married once, but we never had kids."
She let off the pressure and cocked her head to the side. "I believe you," she read the name tag next to his badge, "Officer Einhorn. That's an interesting name."
"I hope when they find you, they peel the skin from your bones."
Her face contorted to a frown, and she resumed the pressure on his private parts.
He screamed again and tried to turn over, but she was too strong.
"That's not very nice," she said. "And it's an especially terrible thing to say to a lady."
"You can go to—ah!" He yelled as she pressed her foot down harder.
"That's also not a nice thing to say to a lady. For someone so mouthy, you're doing very little talking about what I want to hear."
She climbed out of the hole and disappeared from view for a second.
"Do whatever you want to me," he said, gasping for air. He was momentarily relieved to not have a boot crushing his testicles. "It won't make a difference. You'll never get to them."
Adriana returned with a pair of yellow cables hanging from one hand and a box in the other. When she squatted down next to the grave, the cop could see what she was holding.
"How much do you know about electricity?" she asked.
He wiggled again, fighting against the bonds on his hands and feet.
She didn't wait for an answer. "It's a fascinating thing. I've been shocked by it a few times myself. Nothing major. Mostly just static electricity from touching a doorknob. There were a few times, though, that really hurt. Did you know, for example, a motorcycle spark plug can send a significant jolt through your body? Feels like a giant finger flicked you."
As she spoke, she connected the jumper cables to the battery and then dropped the other ends into the grave. She reached behind her back and picked something up. It was a bowl.
She placed it in the grave next to his bare feet and then stared at him. The pause allowed his anxiety to build.
"You don't scare me," the cop said, doing his best to sound brave. "I've been tased before. We all have to go through that just to carry a Taser."
Adriana pouted her lips, pretending to be impressed. "Oh. Well, maybe this won't hurt as much as I thought. Still...I went through the trouble of getting it at the auto parts store, and I'd hate to waste money. Should probably give it a try, just in case."
She took one of the cables and dipped it into the big bowl. Then she grabbed his feet and dunked them into the water. The liquid was warm compared to the freezing air temperatures, but Officer Einhorn didn't take any comfort from that fact.
He started shaking violently, trying to get his feet out of the water and maybe—if he was lucky—knock the bowl over entirely.
Adriana drew a pistol out of her coat and pointed it at the cop's knee. "Stop struggling. You're spilling my water, and I don't want to have to put more in there. If you don't, I'll blow off your kneecap, which is probably more painful than the electrocution you're about to endure, and certainly more permanent."
He froze, staring up at her like a chastised child with a frightened look on his face.
"That's better," she said.
Adriana bent down and picked up the tape. Then she hopped back in the grave and stood over him, dangling the silver adhesive strip over his head.
"Before I put this back on your mouth and start shocking you, is there anything else you'd like to say? Anything? Names would be good. Places, bank routing and account numbers, previous atrocities committed by this mysterious them you keep talking about?"
The cop's head trembled, but he kept his lips sealed.
"Very well. I guess we do this the hard way."
She crouched over him and started to strap the tape to his mouth when he pursed his lips and spit on her face.
Adriana winced then wiped the saliva on her sleeve. She shook her head. "That wasn't very nice. And to think I was just about to let you go." The last comment was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. It was just one more needle under his skin.
She slapped the tape onto his mouth as he tried to hurl profanities and insults. Soon, the words were muted, coming out as mumbled gibberish.
"Feel free to scream as much as you want," she said. "From what I know about this sort of thing, it's going to hurt quite a bit."
Adriana climbed out of the hole again and picked up the second cable. She held it over the bowl of water while the cop kicked around, trying to get his feet out.
"I thought I told you not to do that," she said. "Oh well. I guess you'll learn with a bit of voltage going through your body."
She lowered the cable closer to the bowl, letting the tension build.
Einhorn screamed as loud as he could. She wasn't sure what he was saying, but the desperate noises sounded like he was trying to say, "I'll talk."
"You ready to talk now? Is that it?"
He nodded his head as fast as possible. His eyes boiled over with terror.
"Good."
She set the cable on the ground next to the hole and tore the tape from his mouth again.
"Yes!" he said. "Yes! I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just...just don't do this." His voice trembled on the verge of sobbing.
"That's much better. Now tell me. Who do you work for? Why did they want the president dead?"
"I...I don't know why they wanted the president dead," the cop muttered.
She tilted her head to the side and pressed the gun into Einhorn's kneecap.
"Honest!" he shouted. "I swear! I don't know why they want him dead. He must have stumbled onto something he wasn't supposed to see. Dawkins is a puppet, okay? Just like you and me. You think you live this life based on your own free will and your hopes and dreams? Doesn't work that way, lady. They run everything. Everything! You don't cross a street without them knowing about it."
"Who? Who is behind all this?"
"I don't know who is pulling all the strings."
Her finger tensed on the trigger.
"I'm telling the truth. Me and the others, we got a call about the guy who tried to kill the president."
"A call from who?"
His head twisted back and forth. "I don't know his name. We don't know any names. All I know is when they call, I have to answer."
"And this mystery caller sent you to take out the assassin?"
The cop nodded. "Yes."
"Why? Wasn't that guy on the same team?"
Einhorn snorted a laugh. "Yeah, but these guys aren't the types to leave loose ends lying around. Our orders were to take him out, and if any of our own were causing problems...well, you saw what we did."
She did see. For all his talking, though, this cop was being relatively unhelpful. She needed to expedite things.
"Who do you work for?" she said, redirecting the conversation back toward what she hoped would be useful information.
"I don't know who they are."
His words drew her ire, and she reached up to grab the cable. Ho
lding it over his feet, she stared blankly into his eyes. "I can see you don't know anything. Sorry, Officer."
Her fingers loosened on the cable, and it dropped toward the water.
"No! Wait!" he yelled. She clutched the yellow wire coating before the clamp hit the liquid.
"What is it now?" she shouted at him. "You keep stalling like someone is going to come to your aid. We are in the middle of the Patuxent Refuge. No one is around to hear you scream."
A puzzled expression washed over his face for a moment. "What's with the duct tape, then?"
"For my own sanity. Now tell me everything. And no more stalling."
He gasped for air for another ten seconds before he spoke again.
"They're the Knights of the Golden Circle. They run everything, own everything, and everyone. Okay?"
"Knights of the Golden Circle? The same group behind the Lincoln assassination?"
"Yes. Yes," he said with a voice full of desperation. "The very same."
She shook her head. Growing up in Spain, Adriana's knowledge of United States history was scattered at best. She'd read enough books on the subject of Lincoln's murder to know a little about the KGC. The last thing she remembered reading was that they'd ceased to be active in the years following the Civil War.
"That order hasn't been around in more than a century."
A sickly laugh escaped the cop's lips. He shook his head at her like she'd just made the most ridiculous statement of all time.
"That's exactly what they wanted everyone to think. Meanwhile, behind the curtain, they pulled all the strings."
Adriana's head turned side to side. "That doesn't make sense. The KGC was working with the Confederacy."
Einhorn shook his head. "Yeah. Of course they were. But when they saw there'd be no beating the Union...well, you know the old saying."
Things still weren't adding up. Adriana wondered how much of what was coming out of the man's mouth was truth and how much was a lie. She pushed through the doubt and kept him talking.
"Why would they work with the Union? It was against everything the Confederacy stood for, everything the South wanted."
"No," the cop shook his head. "The Confederacy, the KGC, all of them wanted the same thing."
"And what was that? Money?"
"Sure, money. It's the great driver of all things, isn't it? But behind the quest for money is a search for something else."
"Power," she said, realizing where he was going with all this.
"Bingo. The KGC knew the South's cause was done. There was no way they were going to win the war. So, they joined the winning side, infiltrated the government, and spread like a virus."
Adriana let the information sink in.
The Knights of the Golden Circle, an old secret society from the South, was behind the Dawkins assassination attempt and—according to this guy—behind a great many other things as well. If what he was saying was true, their reach could be unending.
"CIA? FBI?" she asked.
"NSA, you name it. They've got their fingers in all the pies. Even the police."
"Why Dawkins? Why kill the president? You said he must have found something."
"Look, lady, I have no idea why they wanted to kill the president. Like I said, he must have found something on them. What that could be, I have no idea. I swear. I'm just a low-level errand boy for them. They don't tell me much, almost nothing. I just get a little bonus money every quarter for doing as they say."
"So, you sold your soul to the devil."
"Did you hear anything I said? They own everything. These aren't the kind of people you say no to. You either get on board, or they erase you. Simple as that."
Adriana crossed her arms. "Like you did with your cop friend and the would-be assassin?"
His eyes wandered away from her, focusing somewhere in the treetops for a moment.
"Oh, grow up. You think that's the worst thing we've done for them? We all know the score. We know what happens. When you're in, you're in. And you only get out when they say so."
"Sounds like an uncertain way to live life. Never know when the guy next to you is going to stab you in the back."
He returned his gaze to her, his eyes mere slits. "Life is uncertain, sweetheart. You might as well get something for your trouble while you're here."
"Mmm," she said with a nod. "That's a good point. And this whole talk has been great, except you haven't really told me anything. Have you? This entire time you've been jabbering all you've given me is something I could have read on some crackpot's blog. So, you know what? I think we're done here. Honestly, I'm shocked. Actually, that would be you."
She dangled the cable over the water, nearly skimming the surface.
"No! Please! There's one more thing I can tell you!"
"It better be good," Adriana said. "I'm done wasting my time with you."
His lips quivered. She wasn't sure if it was from fear, the cold, or both. Probably both.
"All...all I know is they're trying to hide something. Okay? I don't know what it is, I swear."
"Hiding something?"
"Yeah. Something they found a long time ago. None of the people in charge have told me what it is. I've only ever heard rumors. Whatever it is they're hiding...it's big. Supposedly, it's the source of the KGC wealth and power."
Adriana narrowed her eyes, sizing up the cop's story. What could the Knights be keeping from public view? This guy clearly didn't know much about it.
"I feel like you're just shoveling myths that you and your buddies sling around at the poker table."
"No! Please! I'm telling the truth. They found something in the 1800s, somewhere in Alaska. Okay? I don't know where it is. Like I said, I've only heard the rumors myself, but according to what I've heard, it's how the KGC are what they are today."
"So, they found a big gold deposit? Some kind of ancient treasure?"
"All of that...and more."
"More?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yes. They say there's some kind of power generator, something that makes gold."
And now they were back in left field again. "Sounds like you're talking about alchemy," Adriana said with a derisive look.
"I know. It's crazy. I'm just telling you what I know. That's what you wanted."
His eyes suddenly fixed on a spot over Adriana's shoulders, high in the trees. His body shook violently. Veins popped out of his forehead and his neck like he was straining hard against something.
Then his body went limp.
"Officer Einhorn?" Adriana said, bending down to see what was the matter.
She let go of the jumper cable, allowing it to fall into the water bin. She'd been bluffing the whole time. The battery hadn't been charged yet.
She pressed two fingers to the man's neck. No pulse. She pulled up one sleeve on his shirt to repeat the examination on his wrist. At the base of his hand, an eye was tattooed on his skin. She looked at it closely and realized it was covering up a surgical scar. A half inch farther up the forearm was a little bump just under the skin. It was about the shape of a pill. The tattoo was one she recognized: the Eye of Horus. From what she recalled of her studies regarding ancient Egypt, the eye was used as a symbol of protection. What that had to do with this guy, she wasn't sure.
Adriana snapped her head around, scanning the surrounding forest. No one was there, at least not that she could see. Someone had just killed her prisoner from a remote location. She wondered how many people had similar devices installed under their skin.
The rabbit hole had just gotten deeper.
Chapter 16
Chattanooga, Tennessee
"We have to look at the facts so far," Sean said. He turned his head one way and then the other, eying the other faces in the little coffee shop.
Chattanooga's south side had turned into a trendy place for bars, restaurants, and coffee shops. It was also a great place to lie low since there were few traffic cameras around and he knew relatively few people in that part of the city.
That wasn't to say he would let his guard down.
"Right. And we need to get this to a lab," Tommy said, tapping a finger on the top of the metal box.
They'd debated opening the thing in the car, but decided not to risk it. Whatever was inside could be delicate and easily destroyed, especially in a vehicle.
"Honestly, right now we don't know who we can trust except each other."
"Well, and the ladies."
"True. My point is we may not get a better opportunity than right here."
Tommy looked mortified. "You mean open it here? In this coffee shop?"
Sean surveyed the room again. "Yeah. Nothing but a bunch of hipsters and freelancers in here. It's clean enough. Doubt we'll do better anytime soon."
He took a sip of his cortado, letting the nutty flavors swirl around on his tongue before he swallowed.
Tommy was still hesitant. He panned the room as well to make sure no one was watching or listening. He returned his gaze to Sean and leaned across the table, bracing himself on his elbows.
"It's not the ideal place," he said.
"I know. Here's the other thing to consider. We could walk out that door right now and be scooped up by dirty cops or worse...CIA, NSA, you name it."
Tommy licked his lips as he stared at the box. "Okay," he said. "We do it here. Just do me a favor, and put your coffee on that table next to us." He set his cup on the table to the right. Sean did as told, placing his cortado next to Tommy's drink.
Tommy took a deep breath and sighed slowly as he centered the tin container on the table in front of him. He worked his fingernails under the lid and paused.
"You're sure you want to—"
"Just open it," Sean said. "We might not get another chance."
Tommy swallowed and nodded. "Okay, here goes."
The lid was on tight, sealed not only by the previous owner but also by time. His knuckles turned white as he pulled hard.
"Need me to get it?" Sean asked with a playful smirk.
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