A Dubious Terrain (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 4)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  She ran to the front of the desk and spun around like a top with her arms straight out. Banyon could see the butterfly shape clearly on her right cheek. The string bikini didn’t invade the smooth round surface. Banyon just smiled.

  But Loni turned toward him with a frown on her face. She put both of her hands on the desk and leaned forward. She was inches away from him. “You can’t just smile. You have to say it,” she demanded.

  “You look stunning,” he announced immediately.

  “Good of you to notice,” she replied a little sarcastically.

  “Now come and sit on my lap so I can show you options for our vacation,” Banyon said in a leering voice.

  Loni sprinted around the desk and quickly slid her five-one lithe frame on his lap. Banyon, a man of above-average height and weight easily supported her. He pointed at the computer screen.

  “The Caribbean, Hawaii, or someplace far away,” he offered.

  “You pick, but I want excitement, adventure, romance, and maybe a little gambling,” she muttered.

  Sensing that he was being manipulated Banyon responded, “Las Vegas it is.”

  “You really want to go there, too,” she said as she looked up at him from his lap.

  “And you know me too well,” he retorted as he hit a tab on the screen and the list of Vegas hotels popped up.

  “Hey, you’ve already been searching for a hotel in Las Vegas,” she exclaimed as she pointed at the screen.

  “I just wanted to hear you beg,” he replied knowingly.

  Their banter was broken when Banyon glanced out the window and noticed an official-looking car enter his circular driveway and park by the front door. The tall man who exited the car and ambled to the front door sent a shiver down his spine.

  Since Loni was busy studying the screen and not turned toward the window, she had not noticed the car. When the doorbell rang, she sprang up and headed toward the front door before Banyon could protest. He didn’t want to see the man.

  She flung open the door without checking the peephole and now stood in shivering shock. The man was in shock too as he didn’t expect a scantily bikini-clad woman to open the door in the middle of winter.

  “Agent Greg Gamble,” Loni managed to utter. “You’re one of the last people I ever wanted to see on Earth,” she said with anger. She blocked the doorway and was clearly not welcoming him into the house.

  Loni was in the process of slamming the door when she heard Banyon bellow, “It’s okay, let him in.”

  The large FBI agent slipped past Loni as she stared at him with utter contempt and proceeded into the front office of the house. He stood in front of the seated Banyon and offered his hand. Banyon didn’t move.

  “What do you want, Agent Gamble?” Banyon asked in a frosty voice.

  “You used to call me Greg ole buddy,” he replied in his southern drawl.

  “That was before we got to know you better.”

  “It was all official government business. I had no choice. I am governed by the same laws you are, pal.”

  “Why are you back here? Did you forget to confiscate some of my books? Maybe you forgot some recipes or pictures of my children? You already have my computer, all my records, and the cure for alcoholism that Loni and I found.”

  Agent Gamble had been to the Banyon house several times. They had actually been friends and had been involved in several adventures together. The last one revolved around a copy of Mein Kampf that had been found in the jungles of the Philippines. Banyon and Loni had solved the mystery, found the rightful owner of the book, and had discovered an ancient cure for alcoholism secreted in the book. Suddenly Agent Gamble had shown up at their home spouting the Patriot Act and everything connected to the case was confiscated. Banyon realized that the event was political, but Gamble had been the point man.

  Without being invited, the big man eased into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Even sitting down, he was still taller than Loni, who stood with a concerned look next to him. She suddenly became aware that she was almost naked and excused herself from the room. Agent Gamble opened his coat and brought out an old battered book. He placed it on the desk in front of Banyon.

  “I need your help,” he announced as he looked Banyon straight in the eye.

  “It’s not our policy to help people who’ve betrayed us in the past,” Banyon returned with a mile-long stare.

  “I think you and Loni know more about the Mien Kampf caper than you’ve let on,” replied Agent Gamble.

  “I’m not telling you anything about anything,” Banyon said.

  “That would be very unfortunate,” Agent Gamble replied.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Of course not, but the FBI is sure you have more information that you have not shared,” Agent Gamble smoothly replied.

  “And that’s based on what, some politician’s intuition?” Banyon was becoming more sarcastic with each barb.

  “No, sir. It’s based on the online searches that Loni’s been doing,” Agent Gamble replied. “Yes, Homeland Security has hacked into all your computers. The material you guys have been pulling down from the internet is interesting. It tells me you’ve withheld some information about our friend Hal Jones, the sleeper Nazi. According to the crime report, both of you were in his house for some time before it burned to the ground. We believe you found something that was not confiscated. I must see it.”

  “How could you possibly know that the materials we’ve been looking at are connected to Hal Jones?” a concerned Banyon asked.

  “Because we know about it, too,” the FBI agent responded.

  Chapter Two

  Banyon felt that the room had suddenly become hotter. His heartbeat suddenly quickened. Agent Gamble was right. They did hold back a snuffbox that held the key to the mystery and also an old photo they found in the Jones bedroom. Since the house had burned to the ground, they figured that no one knew about the photo. It was extremely damaging evidence that there was a long-term Nazi conspiracy in America. The men pictured in the photo and their children were now high ranking U.S. government officials or prominent business people.

  “This is still a free country, and we can look at anything we want, Agent Gamble,” Banyon forcefully replied.

  “Colt,” Agent Gamble spoke with his hands raised in surrender. “Please listen. The Patriot Act is one of their devices. As you know, it allows the government, especially Homeland Security, to take away any of your rights at will. You’re a historian. This has happened before—in Germany. As you always say, ‘history will repeat itself.’”

  “Are you here to arrest us?”

  “As I said,” a conciliatory Agent Gamble answered. “Your government needs your help.” It was more of a plea than anything else.

  “How could…”, but before Banyon could ask how, Loni came into the room wearing a terrycloth robe and threw a picture on the desk. It was the picture she had grabbed at the old house. The picture was of several men and was taken at Harvard University in the 1930s. She had written names under all of the men. It was damaging evidence.

  Agent Gamble looked at the picture without touching it and reached into his jacket. Banyon thought that he was going for a badge to arrest them, but instead he produced another copy of the picture and dropped it on the desk.

  “Where did you get that?” Loni exclaimed as she pointed at the picture.

  “We are required by law to do background checks on all Homeland Security personal,” replied Agent Gamble. “This picture was found in the archives at Harvard University while we were doing a routine background check on one of their executives. We know who most of these people are.” He pointed to the man on the far right in the photo. “Is this man Hal Jones?”

  Banyon had seen many pictures in Jones’s house before it burned down. The man on the right was definitely Jones. “That is Hal Jones,” he offered.

  Agent Gamble took a deep breath then spoke. “His real name was Klaus Gerut. His father Earnest Gerut and broth
er George Gerut were high-ranking Nazis. You may not know this, but the son of George Gerut, John Gerut, is now head of a fast-deploy strike force that can be sent anywhere on short notice and has the life and death powers of martial law. He now works for Homeland Security. His good friend and mentor is the director of Homeland Security and is also one of the men in the picture.” Agent Gamble stabbed the picture with his finger. “He is also the man who pushed through the Patriot Act.” Agent Gamble pointed to the man on the left.

  “Yes, we know. It sounds like a repeat of the rise of a guy named Hitler in Germany. History is repeating itself.”

  “It would seem so,” Agent Gamble replied sadly. “We must stop it.”

  Loni suddenly spoke. “What about Dr. Thorne?” She was a redheaded woman who claimed to work for a museum and employed Banyon and Loni to help find the book. Agent Gamble had confirmed that the FBI had used her before. But when she finally collected it from the Japanese, using diplomatic cover, she and the book disappeared, only to resurface as an aid to Homeland Security.

  “Yes, she liked you Loni,” Gamble joked. His entire body heaved as he chuckled.

  “It was more like terrorized me,” she said angrily. “She couldn’t keep her hands off me. Or Maya”

  “She was forced on the FBI by Homeland Security. She has been involved in other cases with the same results,” Agent Gamble explained.

  Banyon was quiet, but suddenly asked a question. “Why did you say we must stop it?” inquired Banyon. “You’re part of the system.”

  “Under our charter, we are separate. We are required to assist Homeland Security, but we’re not part of it. My director and a few of us are very concerned. Homeland Security steps in whenever they want and takes over our cases. They recruit from all the agencies and recruit only the most conservative, aggressive agents. They never pass information back to anyone. They’ve even made people disappear. Sound familiar?”

  “My God,” Banyon muttered.

  “You know,” Agent Gamble warned. “You and Loni are on the ‘to watch’ list as possible subversives. They’ve bugged your new computers, your office, and your home.”

  “What?”

  “But don’t you worry. The FBI has debugged your home.” He used his hands in a soothing gesture.

  “But…” it was as far as Banyon got before Loni exploded.

  “Those bastards! We’re loyal Americans. I want to get my guns and start shooting them. Let’s get them all. We need to stop this insanity.”

  “Loni, the Homeland Security program is not bad. It is much needed. But there are a few bad people in the system. They need to go. That’s why I need your help.”

  Banyon interrupted. “What about the president? Can’t he do something about this?”

  “Well, ole buddy, he’s on the ‘to watch’ list too.”

  “But Greg,” a suddenly friendlier Banyon said. “What can Loni and I do?”

  “Read the book I’ve put on your desk. I’m aware of your special talents. Then call me to set up another meeting.” He got up and ambled out the door.

  Chapter Three

  Loni and Banyon watched from the front window as Agent Gamble hefted himself into his black Crown Victoria FBI agency car and sped out the driveway. They noted a look of sadness on his face as he went past the window.

  “He just gave us a book and left?” Loni remarked.

  “It’s just not any old book,” replied Banyon as he looked at the cover. “It is the final diary of Professor Adam Wesley.

  “Hey, isn’t that the guy in the dream that you had yesterday?”

  “The same,” replied Banyon. “It was a dubious dream.”

  “So, there is another mystery for us to solve.”

  “I’m afraid that there is more than one for us to deal with,” Banyon responded.

  Not waiting for an explanation, Loni asked, “Okay, what should we do first?” She appeared to be getting ready to start a long distance run. Her little body was tense and ready to take off in any direction he pointed.

  “You need to upgrade our security. I’m going to read this diary,” he said as he pointed to her. “It may contain information that I don’t know.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Loni saluted him. “But, the cost is a kiss,” she giggled as she made her way over to him.

  “Be gone wench,” Banyon said in his King Arthur voice after he had complied.

  Loni quickly dressed and left to buy a new computer to install in the office. This one she vowed would not be bugged by Homeland Security, or anyone.

  ***

  Banyon stayed at his desk and opened the book. He noticed that the first entry was in 1902 and was made on a streamer headed for South Africa. He quickly turned to the last written page and found the last entry was on August 16, 1973. On the inside cover, Professor Wesley had written that he was a full professor at the University of Virginia since 1900. With a few quick calculations, Banyon figured that the professor was about 100 years old when he died.

  The writing was in a bold looping script and the entries were in several different colored inks, meaning that he used whatever writing instrument was available for each entry. Each entry was dated and included the location where the professor was each time something was added. As Banyon scanned the pages, he noticed that Professor Wesley had traveled the world.

  Just as in his dream, the diary was about the professor’s hunt for a Black Diamond. The Black Diamond had come to earth thousands of years ago. Somehow, it had the ability to pull energy from any source if a human held it in either hand. The left hand produced physical and the right produced mental changes. The energy seemed to pass through the diamond and into the person holding it. This could give a person superhuman powers, but it could also destroy the person if held too long. It had great healing powers, but also could provide unlimited destructive tendencies as well. It brought out the worst fears and desires of each person that touched it. It was both good and bad.

  Banyon read that Professor Wesley had held the Black Diamond in his right hand for less than thirty seconds to help heal a gunshot wound. Wesley suddenly discovered that he could understand any language, read it, and write it too. The power lasted for the rest of his life.

  It also affected the masses. Wesley recounted how several people that controlled the diamond had used it to influence mass thinking. It had not always been used wisely. It had also changed hands many times.

  The list of people that Professor Wesley recorded as having touched the diamond included: Alexander the Great, Emperor Constantine, Vladimir Tepes, Rasputin and even Himmler. He suggested that there were many more, but he could not document them.

  Wesley wrote that he had finally recovered the Black Diamond in a salt mine in Germany at the end of World War II. It should have been a glorious day, but at the same time he discovered that his true love. A women named Anna Van Kleef, had died protecting the diamond. After the war, Professor Wesley had traveled to Germany with his long time protector a Sergeant Jones and found Anna’s grave. He then gave her a proper burial.

  His last entry said that the diamond was being moved from the Smithsonian Institute to a little know secret facility named ‘Area 51’. He was also despondent that he had not found anyone to look over the diamond after he was gone.

  Banyon sat at his desk, deep in thought. He began to wonder why Agent Gamble gave him the book. He certainly didn’t know about Banyon’s dream. Wolf, his spirit mentor, had hinted that the Black Diamond would resurface and Banyon should be ready to help return it to a secure facility. Clearly, Homeland Security people were involved and Agent Gamble wanted Banyon and Loni to get it back. Did they take it? Banyon also wondered why someone would steal the Black Diamond. What would you use it for? How much did they know about it? Were they aware of the dangers? He finally decided that he needed to talk to Wolf after he finished the diary.

  Chapter Four

  About five hours later, Banyon sat on the couch in his large family room. A trusty vodk
a and tonic rested on the coffee table. He had read the book given to him by Agent Gamble and was now finished. He realized that it was not just a diary – it was a diary of epic proportions. There had to be a reason that Agent Gamble wanted him to read the diary. Banyon noticed the cover of the book was stamped ‘top secret’, president’s eyes only. Wesley noted on the last page that his will donated the diary to the President, in case the Black Diamond ever got out again. So, is Agent Gamble the new protector? He wondered.

  His mind then drifted to something Agent Gamble said. It caused him great concern. Agent Gamble intimated that he knew Banyon had a special power. Banyon wondered how he knew that. What does Agent Gamble know about me?

  Banyon discovered the power several years ago when he was up against the white supremacist group during his first mystery. The spirit talked to him in riddles and eventually led him to a tablet that had the original history of the Aryan race written on it. Banyon helped recover the artifact and it was whisked off to India for safe keeping.

  At the time, Banyon was struggling in life and in a matter of a weekend; everything changed for the better.

  His life had been going very well since he ‘inherited’ a substantial estate from a man he met only once in his life. The man, Wolfgang Becker, provided the catalyst and still haunted him to this day. Banyon who was predisposed to the paranormal could actually talk to ‘Wolf’ whenever he desired. All he had to do was ask a question out loud. The ghost always responded. Banyon didn’t understand how he could communicate with a ghost, but he did take advantage of the privilege. He had been told it was a curse set by friends of Wolf in India. The ghost could tell him about things that had happened. He could not tell him about the future. But Banyon used the information to solve several mysteries, recover ancient artifacts, serve humanity and mostly to hunt Nazis. The spirit, Wolf, needed to rid the world of Nazi’s before his curse could end. Only Loni, the Patel sisters and Banyon knew the secret. Now someone else seemed to know about it. How could Agent Gamble have learned about my secret?