ALEX HUNT and The Golden Urn_An Archaeological Adventure Thriller

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ALEX HUNT and The Golden Urn_An Archaeological Adventure Thriller Page 16

by Urcelia Teixeira


  “That should buy us some time,” she announced as she helped Sam up and ushered him to the gate entrance.

  The opening between the gates was too narrow for Sam to get through and having used the steel pipe to lock the guards inside the warehouse, Alex was out of options. She frantically looked around in search of a solution.

  “Wait here,” she ordered and hurriedly slipped through the gate.

  A minute later Sam watched as Alex came speeding down the dirt road toward the gate; managing to take cover just in time before she blasted through the gates with the minibus.

  “Get in!” she rushed Sam as she flung the passenger door open from the inside.

  Once inside the van, a stunned Sam looked across at her as she powered up the dirt road toward the highway.

  “Ok, who are you and what have you done with Alex?”

  Still wide-eyed with adrenaline rushing through her veins, Alex broke out laughing. “I missed you, Sam Quinn.”

  Sam smiled wincing with pain as the minivan hit a significant bump in the road. “Now what?”

  Alex paused. His question reminded her that they were on the run.

  “I have no idea, Sam. But we’re not safe anywhere. Ollie is a scorpion guy too.”

  With still swollen eyes, Sam looked sideways at Alex. This wasn’t her usual suspicious intuition talking. She was dead serious.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m afraid not. I saw the traitor with my very own eyes. Outside the warehouse. I hid behind the water tanks, and he and the perfect English speaking kidnapper pulled up in fancy black cars. They were very friendly with each other. They both had scorpion tattoos on the back of their necks. Just like the bikers, and he wasn’t in his Aussie safari clothes either; the guy was neatly dressed up in a black pants and a crisp, white shirt; like someone important.”

  The pair went quiet as they reached the end of the dirt road.

  “Which way? Left or right?” Alex asked without waiting for a still surprised Sam to answer and turned left toward the town.

  “We need to go to Mr. Yeng-Pho and report all we know. He’s the only one that can help us now.”

  The engine picked up speed as they pushed toward the Commissioner-General’s office building.

  The swivel doors posed a challenge as Alex helped Sam walk into the Cambodian judicial department. Assuming Alex and Sam were a threat, the paramilitary guards took one look at Sam’s tortured body and pulled their weapons.

  “No, no! We’re here to see Mr. Yeng-Pho. We were kidnapped. He knows us!” Alex explained causing more of a commotion than intended.

  Moments later two more guards joined them, and before you knew it, the department was up in arms.

  “Please? Just call Mr. Yeng-Pho. Tell him Alex Hunt and Sam Quinn are here. We need his help!”

  Still suspicious, one of the guards radioed someone, and several minutes later, Mr. Yeng-Pho came to their rescue.

  “Miss Hunt?” he yelled surprised; ordering his men to let them go.

  “Mr. Yeng-Pho! Oh, thank heavens. They kidnapped us, and Sam is hurt. You have to help us!” Alex cried out.

  Still caught off guard by the pair’s surprise arrival, Mr. Yeng-Pho ushered them into a closed office and ordered his men to stand down and leave the room.

  Alone in the room, the Commissioner-General sat them down. “Miss Hunt, please continue. Who kidnapped you? Tell me everything you know.”

  For the next hour, Alex described the entire ordeal in great detail. From how they met Ollie and his hide-out in the middle of the jungle, to discovering the scroll that led them to Vietnam. About how Sam got shot, their kidnapping and torture.

  “Miss Hunt! This was a most unfortunate event, but please tell me? Are you saying there is, in fact, another Golden Urn and that the one that got stolen was a counterfeit?”

  Alex nodded. “Exactly! One the Royal family was aware of, in fact. Apparently, it’s protocol for them to hide the original one; to protect it from ever being stolen.”

  Mr. Yeng-Pho leaned forward. “And you have the authentic Urn in your possession?”

  “Not quite, no. But I’m certain I can find it. The scorpion men blackmailed me to find it. With the clues from the first scroll I have managed to already complete half the expedition. They held Sam captive, but I succeeded in escaping, and now we’re here.”

  Mr. Yeng-Pho pulled out his chair and clasped his hands together. “Please excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Alone in the closed office, Alex breathed a big sigh of relief for the first time in days. Sam sat quietly next to her; still holding his ribs.

  “It’s going to be ok, Sam. We’re going to get you medical attention and put all of this behind us. Hang in there, ok?”

  “Nothing a good plate of food won’t fix. The bruising will subside, and I don’t suspect my ribs to be broken. I’ll be fine in a couple of days,” Sam replied.

  The two sat silently waiting for Mr. Yeng-Pho to return.

  Sam tapped his fingers on the table. “Where do you think Mr. Yeng-Pho went? He didn’t say much did he?”

  As if the Commissioner-General was right outside listening at the door, he re-entered the office.

  “Please come with me,” pulling out Alex’s chair.

  Without hesitation, Alex helped Sam up and followed Mr. Yeng-Pho into the parking garage in the basement. A scrawny looking Asian man accompanied them and ushered them toward a parked black sedan. Alex paused as they neared the vehicle. Her pulse raced as she realized what was going down. Seconds later Mr. Yeng-Pho pulled a gun from his jacket’s breast pocket and pointed it at them.

  “You didn’t honestly think you’d get away with this, did you?” he sneered. “Get in!” pointing to the car.

  His scrawny sidekick produced his own weapon and shoved it in Sam’s bruised side.

  Confusion lay bare across Alex and Sam’s faces.

  “You’re one of them?” a still in shock Alex asked after which Mr. Yeng-Pho exploded in a mocking laugh.

  “ONE of them? Miss Hunt, you underestimate me. I’m THE one! I’m in charge of this entire operation. Now get in before I shoot the charming Dr. Quinn and relieve him from his misery.”

  Mr. Yeng-Pho’s scrawny sidekick shoved Alex and Sam into the backseat of the car, cuffed their hands to the door handles and taped their mouths shut. The Commissioner-General slipped in the front seat and instructed his accomplice to drive.

  Alex felt utterly broken and defeated as she looked across at Sam who showed much the same evidence of betrayal on his face. How did they get this so terribly wrong?

  Handcuffed to the car and unable to speak, tears flooded Alex’s eyes. Fear ripped through her body while feelings of total hopelessness overwhelmed her. Her heart felt heavy with the prospect of not knowing where they were going and how they were going to escape or survive this awful turn of events.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The two decapitated bodies lay waiting for them under the tree when Alex, Sam, and their new kidnapper arrived at the stone dragon site. The black-eyed man was nowhere to be seen. If he survived the blow to his head, he would have somehow made his way back to his gang.

  The barefoot walk into the jungle left Sam exhausted. Struggling to breathe under the immense pain of his cracked ribs he somehow managed to keep up. Alex was thrilled she had the foresight to put the treasure map in her pants pocket when they searched her backpack and found nothing. Mr. Yeng-Pho’s gun held them captive while his scrawny accomplice took great pleasure in shoving them around.

  “Where is it?” Mr. Yeng-Pho barked. “There’s no escaping this, Miss Hunt so unless you want your friend here to die, you’ll tell me where the Urn is.”

  His scrawny partner ripped the silver tape off her mouth leaving behind a stinging red patch around her mouth. Alex knew his sadistic action was done with intent to entice a reaction from her, so she clenched her jaw and fought the urge to spit in his face. He stared directly at her
when he yanked Sam’s tape off his mouth. Alex still didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, Sam sneakily pushed his leg forward. The scrawny bastard tripped and fell face first into a pile of leaves. Though Sam’s face professed no blame, it nevertheless earned him a backhand slap from his fool.

  “So if we’re done playing, I’m waiting,” Mr. Yeng-Pho remarked while giving his colleague a stern look.

  “I don’t have it. I told you already. This was as far as we got,” Alex lied.

  Mr. Yeng-Pho didn’t answer immediately and paced around the dragon before stopping behind Alex. With his mouth close to her ear and his fingers twirling a strand of her hair, he whispered.

  “Stop fighting, Miss Hunt.”

  His hand gripped her hair and yanked her head back firmly.

  “Don’t make me get it out of you the hard way. I’m sure your esteemed colleague will vouch how little he enjoyed being tortured.”

  The Commissioner shoved her head forward causing her to lose her balance and fall to her knees in front of the dragon.

  “Give it to him, Alex. It’s not worth it!” Sam spoke.

  “I’d listen to him, Miss Hunt. Where is the Urn?”

  Sam was right. It wasn’t worth being killed over. She would play along and find another way of escaping.

  “There’s a map. It’s in my back pocket,” pulling the map from her pants pocket and turning around for Yeng-Pho to take it from her bound hands.

  The assistant, snatched it and delivered it to Mr. Yeng-Pho.

  “Great. Now we’re getting somewhere. Lead the way, Miss Hunt,” planting his flat hand on her back to shove her forward.

  The map led them on an hour trail of counting paces and changing direction through the overgrown Cambodian hills behind the Oudong Temple. The blazing sun was hot and uncomfortable. With their hands still tied behind their backs, blades of tall grass cut their faces as Alex and Sam fought through the rough terrain.

  Alex stopped and looked back at their kidnappers behind them, “Can you at least untie our hands so we can get through in one piece?” she begged. “And we need water. We haven’t had anything in days.”

  The humidity had taken its toll on Mr. Yeng-Pho too who had his uniform jacket tied around his waist, and his sleeves rolled up.

  “Fine, but know this, Miss Hunt. If either of you decides to run, I’ll kill you on the spot. Is that clear?” cocking his gun and pointing it at her face.

  Alex nodded in agreement. According to the map, their destination should be very close; thirty paces South-West followed by sixty paces North.

  Shortly after, they arrived at what the scroll referred to as ’the clay.’ Expecting to see a significant clay pot or statue of some kind, to all of their surprises, it was a pool of quicksand spanning roughly five meters in diameter.

  “This is it,” Alex said apprehensively. “This is where the map and the first scroll’s riddle end.

  “So the clay refers to a large puddle of quicksand,” Sam said matter of factly as he sat down under a shading tree. “Now what?”

  “I don’t know. Honorable Commissioner, now what? There’s no telling whereto from here without the second scroll,” sitting down next to Sam.

  Mr. Yeng-Pho wiped his brow and squatted in front of the pair.

  “Again you underestimate me. Do you honestly think I would be out here in the blazing sun if I didn’t know what I was doing?”

  He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and tossed it into Alex’s lap before cocking his gun in her face again.

  “Crack it, Miss famous archaeologist,” he added. “We don’t have all day.”

  Alex unfolded the paper. It was a copy of the second scroll.

  “Where did you get this?” she exclaimed jumping to her feet. “I was told it burnt in the fire during the Khmer Rouge attacks.”

  “Clearly it hadn’t,” Sam commented. “Who are you really, Mr. Yeng-Pho?”

  “Well, look at you? Aren’t you the clever one?” the Commissioner answered sarcastically.

  “As it happens, Dr. Quinn, my uncle was responsible for the fire that day, but thanks to his immense wisdom, he salvaged the scroll before it could be destroyed.” Mr. Yeng-Pho turned and gripped Alex by the arm. “Now, get on with it! Crack the next riddle and find me that Urn!”

  “Why is this Golden Urn so important to you? As far as I know, it contains the Buddha’s body parts and should have no value to you. Unless you want to tell me that you’re actually a monk and need to ask for forgiveness,” Alex mocked.

  The scrawny sidekick slapped Alex hard across the face. This time, Alex didn’t hold back and flung a ball of saliva into his face before thrusting her small fist across his cheekbone. Instantly the guy reacted by pinning Alex against the tree and shoving his gun under her chin.

  Mr. Yeng-Pho barked a stern warning and gripped his associate by the throat to stand down. Begrudgingly he obeyed and wiped the spit from his face.

  “I said, decode the clues and let’s get on with it!”

  Alex smoothed out the now crumpled piece of paper and read it out loud.

  Weight is your foe, so find its right place

  For the moon to cast its shadow

  and help you find the face

  Watch out for the evil eye that points to the sky

  Your goal is to bend low for the truth to bestow

  “Now that’s a conundrum if ever you’ve seen one,” Sam commented.

  Alex didn’t say a word. In silence, she read the clue several times again.

  “Well? Don’t just stand there. What are we dealing with here?” an annoyed Mr. Yeng-Pho nudged.

  The small group watched impatiently as Alex paced up and down along the quicksand pool, pausing in front of Sam.

  “How much do you weigh?”

  “Weigh? I have no idea.”

  Mr. Yeng-Pho stepped up next to her. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Alex turned to face him. “Everything, in fact. The first line reads, ‘weight is your foe, so find the right place.’”

  “Yes, and?” the Commissioner-General snapped back.

  “And — the clay is quicksand,” Alex explained.

  “Indeed!” Sam chipped in excitedly. “The heavier you are in quicksand, the more you agitate the composition. It’s your enemy.”

  Alex smiled proudly at Sam for getting it.

  “Exactly. So, in the case of the ‘clay,’ weight is your enemy, but — if you ‘find the right place,’ somehow the moon will cast a shadow and reveal some sort of a face.”

  “Well, I’m certainly the heaviest,” said Sam. “So let’s find the right place.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Mr. Yeng-Pho asked; it could be anything.”

  “Anything, except the quicksand, that is,” Sam said with irony in his voice.

  For the next forty-five minutes, the party scoured the surrounds for anything that might fit the bill.

  “I think I found it!” Sam shouted beckoning for Alex to join him.

  He had been searching between the leaves in a tree and noticed an odd looking branch protruding from the tree.

  “It seems to be some sort of a lever,” Sam added.

  “I’d agree. Let’s hope it’s not booby trapped. You ok to do this Sam?”

  “Never been better.”

  Sam placed both hands on the fake branch slightly above his head. The thought of having to hang much in the same way he did in the warehouse killed him. Sensing his thoughts, Alex flashed him an encouraging smile. It was their only option if they were to complete their mission and get out of this alive. Sam’s bruised muscles and cracked ribs labored his breathing. He stretched up and pulled the lever down with the full force of his weight. A loud rumbling sound echoed from beyond the pool of quicksand as they felt the ground shake under their feet.

  As the loose wet sand slowly gave way, an upright structure ascended. In the middle of the murky pool, the shape of a stone spear pushed out
of the quicksand and towered above the group who stood in awe.

  When the ground eventually stopped trembling under their feet, Alex and Sam slowly moved toward the spear. Roughly the height of a two-story building, and with all the mud cleared away, it was a majestic sight. Hundreds of red, yellow and green gemstones sparkled prisms of colorful light as the last of the sun’s intense rays fell on it.

  There was no way of getting to the spear for as quickly as the slushy sand gave way, it closed up around its base again. It stood tall in all its luring splendor.

  “What’s next?” Yeng-Pho said impatiently.

  “We wait,” Sam said to which Alex agreed and added, “Exactly. We need to wait ‘for the moon to cast its shadow’ and help us find the face.”

  Yeng-Pho looked up at the sun. “It will be dark in a couple of hours. We’ll stay here.”

  Several hours later, when the moon finally sat high enough to shine through the tall trees, Sam woke Alex up who had fallen asleep against him.

  “It’s time, Alex. Look,” Sam whispered.

  Jumping to their feet, they all watched as the moonlight beamed down on the jeweled spear that sparkled like a million stars all around them. The brightest of sapphire blue light glowed from the tip of the spear and projected across the mud pool.

  “Come! Hurry!” Alex shouted as she led them around the pool to where the blue light radiated onto a group of trees. It was a spectacular festival of lights culminating into this one spot between the lush green leaves. And there, as if watching in slow motion, the vines made way for an ancient face carved from stone.

  Alex grabbed onto Sam’s arm in awe of what transpired in front of them.

  “I bet this is where it gets interesting,” Sam whispered to Alex.

  She squeezed Sam’s arm with excitement.

  When the face was fully visible, Yeng-Pho pushed Alex and Sam out of the way.

  “What’s the next clue?” he urged.

  “You might not want to get too close Yeng-Pho. It says to watch out for the evil eye that points to the sky,” Alex cautioned.

 

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