Indisputable Proof

by Gary Williams

  In the distance, the man seemed surprised and dropped to his knees. He lifted the rifle and fired again. This time the shot struck the ceiling near Tolen. The CIA agent had drawn the gunfire away from Jade. Tolen fired two times in succession, but he was unable to steady his body, and the shots missed. One struck the water near the ledge where the man now knelt. The man returned fire, and in a horrifying instant, Jade watched Tolen wince, let go of his grip and freefall to the water some 35 feet below. He landed with a loud splash.

  Jade could barely comprehend what had just happened. “Tolen!” she screamed.

  “Mierda!” Diaz screeched from behind her. A second later, she heard another large splash.

  She looked down to see Diaz break the surface as gargantuan shadows hovered around him.

  Tolen was nowhere in sight.

  A chill swept up her spine and filled her very being. She was the last one hanging and was completely vulnerable. Jade did not have the nerve to look back at the shooter. She knew what was coming. Her arms were cramping, and she could barely hang on. She felt a wave of nausea as she braced for the inevitable.

  The sharp crack of gunshot was immediately followed by a burning sensation on her forearm. The sight of the blood pooling on her skin, more than the pain, caused her to jerk and release the stone handle with both hands. The fall happened so fast there was no time for her to think. The next thing she knew, she was under water with saltwater burning her nostrils.

  In a moment of morbid fear, she opened her eyes. Amidst rising air bubbles, she saw devilish looking creatures swimming nearby, so close she could have reached out and touched them. Their wide snouts cut through the water like long, flat razorblades, leading thick torsos and arcing tailfins. Beyond, more of the dark, cloudy shapes moved aimlessly. There were too many to count. She screamed inwardly in terror, struggling to keep her mouth closed and hold her breath.

  She now saw the dark tendril of fluid spinning into the water from her stinging arm. The bullet had grazed her, and she was bleeding into the water. She froze in horror.

  Then a primal urge took over. Her lungs burned for air. Instinctively, Jade clawed and raked her way to the surface. A long, slimy object slid against her, and she thought her heart would burst from her chest. She continued to push upward, bursting through the surface, gasping harsh lungfuls of air.

  Jade tread water as large hammerheads swirled by her, brushing her legs as she kicked. Each time they made contact, she yelled, expecting to feel teeth ripping at her flesh. Her breathing became uncontrollable, and she felt as if she were going to hyperventilate.

  Then it happened.

  The strike came at her shoulders. She was yanked backward with force. She loosed a bloodcurdling scream. In a panic she fought to break the hold, yelling and slapping the water around her.

  “Stop! Stop!” she heard the familiar voice call from behind her. “Jade, stop fighting me!”

  It took a moment for her to realize it was Diaz. He was trying to pull her away from the mass of hammerheads converging upon her.

  She was only vaguely aware that the lantern near the cave entrance had been extinguished. The man with the rifle was no longer visible in the dim light.

  “We have to get to the island!” Diaz yelled. A series of pops struck the water around them. One narrowly missed Diaz.

  The man on shore was still firing from the concealing darkness. Jade heard a bullet sizzle by her ear as a sense of impending doom enveloped her.

  “Swim…now!” Diaz commanded.

  Jade did not have time to think. She merely turned, spotted the island 20 feet away, and began stroking toward it. Even with her aching arms and the laceration from the bullet wound, she pushed on. The mammoth body of a hammerhead bumped against her, sending her into a frenzied churn through the water. With each stroke, she prayed the sharks would not attack.

  When her feet struck solid stone, she realized she had reached a ramping plateau which led up to the tiny stone surface of the island, but her progress was impeded before she could clear the water. The smooth, slanted sides of the island’s underwater surface made it impossible to scale. For the moment, she would have to remain in the shallow water. Diaz threw the wet coil of rope ahead onto the dry stone and directed her to the backside of the island where they could take partial cover behind the large stone sphere. Bullets continued to whiz past intermittently, striking the water nearby.

  Jade was uneasy about still being submerged in the water, but in reality, she knew it was too shallow for the hulking hammerheads to reach them here. At least for the moment, they were safe from the sharks and out of the shooter’s line of fire, but it would not be long until the attacker moved around the room’s circular ledge to get a clear shot. They could avoid him for a while by shifting around the stone, but for how long?

  “Mierda! I lost my gun in the fall,” Diaz cursed.

  Diaz pushed his wet hair back over his forehead. His features softened into a look of uncertainty. Jade recognized the expression for what it was: pessimism regarding their chances of survival. It shook her to the core.

  “Do you have any other weapons?” she asked.

  “I only have this,” he said, reaching to his ankle under his pant leg. He withdrew a knife from a scabbard.

  A knife was no defense against a man with a rifle 70 feet away. As bullets continued to strike the water nearby, an equally disheartening thought struck her.

  Samuel Tolen was dead.

  CHAPTER 19

  September 11. Tuesday – 5:14 p.m. Northwest Coast of Costa Rica

  Gordon Nunnery was not a killer by nature. He had been spurred on by mankind’s deepest, darkest desire. He had made the choice, carried it through, and was now engaged in a gunfight. Fortunately for him, he had a far better vantage point than the two hiding in the water behind the large, round rock on the backside of the blip of an island.

  He repositioned his Browning Semi-Automatic Grade VI Blued rifle and tried to sight the targets. He had never been much of a hunter, and, although light and compact, the weapon felt awkward. The site was off, but he only found that out when he fired the first few shots as his targets hung from the cave ceiling.

  Still, he had hit the lead man and dropped him into the water. Nunnery had wondered if he could kill a human being when it came time. Strangely, he felt unaffected.

  The end justifies the means, he thought.

  The middle-aged man continued to monitor the stone, firing now and then. He was waiting for a head to poke out from the side so he could get a clean shot. He had been caught off guard when the black man suspended by one hand had returned fire, but the couple now hiding behind the large round stone seemed to be unarmed.

  Nunnery sat on the stone floor, his legs drawn close to his chest at the water’s edge. He rested his elbows on his knees to support the rifle and steady his aim. Nunnery considered repositioning by moving around the perimeter walkway, but the couple would be expecting it, and they could easily avoid him by swiveling around the island, thus keeping the stone between their two positions. In this manner, they could continually evade him. Sure, he might get off a shot or two, but he had no desire to move, at least not yet. He felt comfortable here in the shadows after dousing the lantern. Once the tide crept up, they would be forced to make a move. He would simply wait them out.

  He drew back from the rifle sight and scanned the still water. To the right, a lantern was lit on the walkway, illuminating the lavish, decorative paintings on the domed ceiling which reflected off the mirrored surface of the water. What a remarkable sight it was with its vibrant colors and artistry. This large chamber looked and smelled ancient. Surely this was a priceless discovery in its own right. He wondered how the three had ever found this place.

  Just then, Nunnery caught a fleeting shadow out of the corner of his eye. He wheeled around,
with his rifle at the ready. The formless figure came at him in an instant. Nunnery had no time to react. He inadvertently squeezed the trigger, firing a hapless shot into the stone wall. Then he felt a hard impact to his skull that he never saw coming. His vision blurred, and he was aware of the weapon being pulled from his hands after the fact. He let it slip from his grasp as easily as if he were offering it away.

  Nunnery reeled against the stone wall. His vision cleared enough for him to make out the black man standing to the side. Water was dripping from his clothes. Surprisingly, the man was unarmed. Nunnery lurched toward him with his hands outstretched, but the man was lightning quick and defended himself by dodging to the side so that Nunnery completely missed and fell hard, his head impacting the stone surface near the edge of the ledge. Disoriented, he staggered to his feet, nearly toppling into the water. His head throbbed as if a freight train was tunneling through it. The black man stood quietly nearby, unmoving.

  The world flickered and spun, then slowly settled into a static scene as he caught his balance. A gash on his forehead sent a warm flow of blood down his face, burning into his right eye. Nunnery knew he was defeated. He slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  There was a tink, and then something struck his leg. Startled, he shuffled backward, but the stone floor evaporated below his foot. He teetered and then plunged, staring upward at the maze of colors on the ceiling mural, as he struck the water. The colors danced, and the images faded in and out until they were swallowed up through his watery visage. Gordon Nunnery felt a tremendous grip of pain to his head just before his world fell into dark oblivion.

  ****

  Surprised, Tolen looked to the stone floor at the object that had come to rest after striking the shooter’s leg. It was a long knife with a serrated blade. He turned and saw Pascal Diaz kneeling beside the stone island, half submerged. Tolen quickly moved to the edge and looked into the water. There was a commotion of activity several feet below the surface; the signature attack pattern of several large sharks wracking their heads back and forth. The man had gone under and disappeared into a carnal feeding frenzy.

  The last thing Tolen had wanted was the attacker to be killed. They needed to question the man.

  “Are you okay?!” Jade yelled, appearing beside Diaz.

  Tolen was furious. They had just lost their only lead to the ‘True Sons of Light’ and to Boyd Ramsey. “Why did you throw a knife?!”

  Diaz appeared baffled. “I…thought,” he hesitated, “you were fighting with him. The darkness makes it difficult to see what was happening. Is he dead?”

  “Sharks got him,” Tolen said. He noticed a coat on the ground near the wall. He knelt down and grabbed it, trying to temper his anger. Inside, he found a wallet containing a Saskatchewan driver’s license with the name Gordon Nunnery. First an American had attacked them at Harvard, and now a Canadian had attacked them in Costa Rica. Tolen fanned through the rest of the man’s wallet. The only thing he found of interest was a receipt in German from a dry cleaner in Switzerland. Nothing suggested affiliation with a radical group.

  Tolen rose and moved to the side where the rifle lay. He kicked a shell casing out of the way, picked the weapon up, and examined it from the stock to the end of the barrel. He checked the load: .22 caliber bullets.

  It made no sense.

  “I’ll be back,” Tolen said. He took the weapon and stepped through the aperture in the wall leading into the smaller cave. He slid underneath the low opening into the second, outer cave. He was anxious to know if anyone else had accompanied Mr. Nunnery. If so, they were most likely waiting in a boat nearby. When Tolen reached the entrance to Formacion Descartes Santa Elena, though, he saw their dinghy bounding on the choppy water nearby and their larger vessel beyond. No other vessels were in sight.

  Tolen noticed a second rope tied off at the small rock formation where their dinghy was tethered. The rope was taut and pulled hard to the right, running along the stone to the side of the Formacion Descartes Santa Elena. He leaned out, following it with his eyes. A jet ski was nuzzled into the stone wall, scraping against the rock facing with each swell. The man had come by himself.

  Tolen returned to the cathedral cave after tossing the rifle into the ocean water.

  “Everything okay?” Diaz called.

  “I’m coming over.”

  Tolen had swum through the mix of hammerheads after feigning being shot and falling into the water. His knowledge of their aggressiveness, or lack thereof, toward humans had not been mistaken, and he passed through them without incident to the far side of the cave. By pressing into the wall and moving slowly, he had kept to the shadows and come up behind Gordon Nunnery so that he could take him alive.

  The end result, though, was not what he had hoped for.

  The subsequent shark attack on Nunnery had surprised Tolen. Something had contributed to their newfound aggressiveness. Now, looking into the black water, he saw there were considerably more bodies lurking below the surface than before, and their frenetic activity had increased. No longer were the large creatures moving lackadaisically; now they were slicing through the water, darting this way and that. Tolen caught an unwanted sight: the tail fin of a bull shark cutting across the top of the water…and then a second one. The smell of blood had brought more ferocious creatures into the mix. Bull sharks, noted for their unpredictable and aggressive behavior, are thought to have killed more humans than any other shark, including great whites. With the introduction of these man-eaters, the situation had indeed worsened and sealed Gordon Nunnery’s fate.

  In order to rejoin Jade and Diaz, Tolen would have to make his way to the small island as they originally started: via the ceiling handholds.

  Several minutes later, Tolen had traversed the wall and dome via the handhold path. The task got particularly tough when he arrived at the downward cone over the tiny island. He used the handholds to back down to the point and then drop the nine feet to the hard surface where he adeptly landed on his feet beside the large stone sphere. Using the rope Diaz had tossed on the dry surface, he pulled Jade and Diaz off the slippery, sloping sides and onto the island.

  Tolen noticed Jade applying pressure to her forearm. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, “It’s a flesh wound…not deep. I’ve almost got the bleeding stopped.”

  Tolen ripped off a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and tied it around the wound as a makeshift tourniquet.

  He turned to Diaz. “Because of you, our only lead to the ‘True Sons of Light’ is dead,” Tolen said, staring the man squarely in the eyes. He was still irritated at Diaz’s carelessness at throwing a knife and causing Nunnery to slip into the water.

  “I thought your life was in danger. Don’t bother thanking me,” Diaz swelled visibly with anger as he stepped toward Tolen, crowding in until they were nearly thumping chests.

  Jade wedged between the two with her hands. “Enough testosterone.” She turned to Tolen. “Don’t blame him. I thought I saw a glint of metal as well. We thought he had a handgun. The light was dim, and I agreed with Diaz that he should throw the knife and try to distract him.”

  The two men slowly separated, although they never broke eye contact.

  “Who was he?” Diaz asked in an annoyed tone, rubbing a finger at the side of his nose.

  “His name was Gordon Nunnery. Apparently, he was another recruit of the ‘True Sons of Light.’ He showed up exactly as we had hoped, but his timing was less than optimal.”

  Tolen noticed Jade was already busy looking over the stone sphere. He turned away from Diaz and addressed her, “Is this one of the stone spheres from the Palmar Sur area?”

  “It’s definitely manmade. I can see the chisel marks. My guess is yes.”

  “Find any writing?” Diaz asked. “Maybe it has a cavity like that stone in the States.”


  “We’ll know soon enough.” She continued to examine the stone intently using her water-resistant flashlight. Tolen and Diaz joined in, and all three studied the stone’s exterior for some time before Jade stepped back and exhaled in disappointment. “I don’t get it. Where is the clue? Where is Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb?”

  Tolen considered the stone. One curious aspect of it was that it sat in what appeared to be a circular depression. This meant several feet of the stone lay in a recess, which made the underside impossible to examine. The reason it had been placed in the depression was obvious. The architects of this place had done so to hold the sphere in place.

  Jade stepped beside Tolen, warily looking to the surface of the water only a few feet away. The smell of the saltwater was particularly strong. A dorsal fin split the surface nearby, turned sharply, and disappeared. “We need to check the underside. It’s all that’s left,” she said.

  Tolen nodded. “Diaz, give me a hand. Let’s nudge this stone out of its mount. As soon as we do, we’ll have to get to the other side to stop it from rolling off this slope.”

  Diaz joined Tolen to one side of the stone. Jade stood to the side. The two men placed their hands upon the curved surface and pushed in unison.

  The sphere didn’t budge.

  “Again,” Tolen said.

  Both men heaved, and there was a slight give at the base as it rocked momentarily then settled back in place.

  “One more time,” Tolen commanded.

  “It’s too heavy,” Diaz said.

  “Again,” Tolen said calmly. He closed his eyes, focusing his store of strength. “On the count of three.” Tolen counted off, and they pushed hard. Unexpectedly, Jade slipped between them and helped with a healthy shove to the stone. It was just enough extra force to cause the sphere to teeter and then break free from the depression, but before either man could regain his balance and move to the front side, the stone rolled off the small slope and into the water. They watched with chagrin as it continued rolling lazily down the side of the underwater mount, sinking deeper and deeper into the water until the top disappeared below the surface. It sent a wake rolling across the surface where it reached the perimeter ledge.