Contest

by David Wood

  “Do it, Pops,” Platt replied.

  Gold counted it down.

  “Three... two... one....”

  They fired in unison. The flares soared into the darkness, lighting up the desert floor. Both found their marks. The cavern mouth lit up like the Fourth of July. The traffickers scattered. Some fled back into the cavern, but most came spilling out.

  Gold and his team opened fire. For a moment Gold thought his men had wiped them out with the first salvo, but then voices began to call out.

  “No mas!”

  “We give up!”

  Gold turned to the camera. “With apologies to John Denver, that, my friends, is what I call a sweet surrender.” He turned and addressed the traffickers. “Everybody lay face down and put your hands behind your backs.” Platt translated into Spanish. “If anyone reaches for a weapon, we shoot!”

  They quickly disarmed the traffickers, bound them, and set a few men to guard

  them.

  “All right,” Gold said. “Let’s run them to ground.” With a quick glance to make sure the camera was still rolling, he raised his rifle high. “Charge!”

  Chapter 37

  ––––––––

  Maddock tried to pour on an extra burst of speed, but the human body had its limits, despite the movies that would have viewers believe otherwise. Bones passed him, then Grizzly. The sounds of gunfire grew louder. He couldn’t be too late. Maddock caught a whiff of fresh, dry air. They were nearing an exit. Up ahead, a well-lit chamber beckoned. Inside, a ragged-looking group of men were shouting at one another. More shots rang out and one man fell.

  And then all was chaos. One of the traffickers spotted Bones and fired in their direction. Grizzly returned fire. Three jerky shots, one of which hit its mark.

  “Calm down,” Maddock barked. “Stay behind cover and make your shots count.”

  Another shot from an unseen assailant took out another of the traffickers. Who else was shooting at them?

  “Who the hell is shooting at them?” Bones shouted.

  “I don’t know but I’ll take all the help I can get,” Maddock said.

  One of the traffickers cracked under the pressure. Screaming like a wild man, he made a mad dash in Maddock’s direction, firing wildly.

  Maddock took aim, but before he could squeeze the trigger, Bones’ pistol boomed.

  “Got him!” Bones cried as his shot took the man between the eyes. “Sorry, Maddock, but you haven’t exactly been sharing.”

  Their numbers down to three, the traffickers surrendered. Bones and Grizzly disarmed the men and bound their wrists and ankles while Maddock looked around.

  “Where are they?” Maddock said.

  “Hiding from the traffickers, I hope,” Bones said.

  “If something’s happened to Riv...” Grizzly said.

  “We haven’t seen a single captive harmed,” Bones said. “They’re too valuable to waste like that,” he added with a bitter note in his voice.

  “Somebody else was shooting at them,” Maddock said. “Could it have been one of them?”

  “If they were resourceful enough to escape, they could get a hold of a weapon,”

  Bones said. “They might have run, not knowing who we were.”

  “Spenser!” Maddock shouted.

  “Riv!” Grizzly called.

  Footsteps and then a powerful voice boomed, “Everybody freeze!”

  On this most bizarre of nights, Maddock wouldn’t have believed anything could shock him. But when he turned around, there stood actor Steven Segar crouched in a martial arts stance.

  “Now, let’s all remain calm,” Segar said.

  “Holy freaking crap,” Bones said. “You’re Steven Segar. I own both of your movies on VHS.”

  Still holding his defensive stance, Segar frowned. “I’ve made a lot more than two movies.”

  “I meant the two good ones,” Bones said.

  “Is this your operation?” Maddock demanded. He didn’t care how famous the man was. He wanted to find Spenser and he wanted to know what was going on.

  “Of course not.” Segar stood up straight and smoothed his clothing. “I was filming a show out in the desert when I was kidnapped. They were going to hold me for ransom, I assume. But I escaped and rescued three damsels in distress while I was at it.”

  Just then, Riv and Spenser burst into the cavern, followed by an angry-looking Franzen.

  “Maddock!” Spenser ran forward and leaped into his arms. In his diminished state, she nearly bowled him over, but he managed to remain on his feet. She pressed her forehead to his, her eyes so big and blue. “I always knew some day you’d come walking back through...”

  She didn’t quite manage to finish the quote before Maddock’s lips were planted firmly on hers. When they finally broke the kiss, she made an angry face.

  “It’s rude to interrupt a girl when she’s quoting Indiana Jones.”

  “Sorry,” he grunted. “By the way, I’m about to drop you.”

  She slid nimbly to the ground and slipped her arm around his waist. Nearby, Grizzly was holding Riv tight.

  Segar looked at Franzen and winked. “Don’t you think the hero of the day deserves a kiss, too?”

  Franzen’s lips moved but she couldn’t find the words before they were interrupted by a commotion on the far side of the chamber. Everyone hit the ground and drew their weapons, with the exception of Segar, who flowed into a crane stance for no apparent reason.

  And then the night got even stranger.

  A line of traffickers walked in single file, hands behind their heads. They were escorted by a group of armed men. They were followed by a confused-looking police officer and, bringing up the rear, Orry Rockwell. His face was battered and bloody, but he appeared to be moving okay.

  Their leader wore a battered cowboy hat with a red, white, and blue band. He was tall with a long face, a big-toothed smile. He wore his stringy hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  “Well, God bless America!” the man boomed when he saw them. “Looks like somebody saved old Seagull’s bacon.”

  “I saved myself, Terry Nugget,” Segar replied. “Along with these ladies and a number of captives.” He glanced down at his blood-spattered shirt. “And this is not my blood.”

  Bones turned to Maddock and mouthed, “Terry Gold?”

  Franzen and the newly arrived officer, a tall, curly-haired man named Brown, quickly took charge. Gold and Segar put their crews, except for Gold’s camera and audio team, at the officers’ disposal. Rockwell, after checking on Riv and Spenser, joined them as they rounded up and secured the remaining traffickers and made plans for the care of the captives.

  Meanwhile, Gold introduced himself and actor Roddy Green. Maddock hadn’t heard of him, but Spenser looked mildly impressed. Gold and Segar, with an occasional interjection from a diminutive young man named Yoshi, explained the premise of their television show and how they came to be here. Segar provided only vague details of his capture and Gold followed with a detailed account of their rescue mission.

  “And I refuse to believe that Seagull, here, was the hero of anything,” Gold said.

  Riv spoke up. “I can’t lie. He did knock one of those dudes out cold.”

  “And he led the way every step,” Spenser added. “We figured he was most expendable,” she added to Maddock in a whisper.

  “I’d like to get these ladies on camera right away,” Segar said to Yoshi. “Make a note.”

  “Your treasure hunting show. I don’t suppose you’re looking for the Arch Gold Mine?” Bones asked.

  “We are. It must be somewhere in these caverns,” Segar said.

  “We could make an entire season out of exploring these caverns,” Gold agreed.

  “Hold on,” Grizzly objected. “A significant portion of these caverns lie on my property, and we’re already in pre-production for a similar program.”

  “I’m sure we can work something out,” Gold said. “For now, Segar and I need to do a little
filming.” The two men took up a position in front of some of the captured traffickers and began discussing their combined victory.

  “Hollywood,” Bones deadpanned.

  With the others distracted, Bones and Maddock recounted the day’s events to Grizzly, Riv, and Spenser. All were stunned that they had, in fact, discovered Iturbe’s lost ship.

  “The treasure is long gone,” Bones said, “but we found a few artifacts, so it’s not a total bust.”

  Shipman’s tale, and the revelation that he had, in fact, killed Megan Keane, was a sobering one.

  “I’m going to tell to Franzen,” Riv said. “She knew Megan and will want to hear the true story right away.” She took Grizzly by the hand and led him away.

  When they had gone, Spenser grabbed Maddock by the elbow and steered him out of the chamber and into a side passage.

  “Listen,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot. “This place will soon be swarming with police and then the feds. And after that comes the television show and then it’s fair game for treasure hunters from near and far.”

  “I know. I didn’t get the chance to tell you all, one of the things we found in the ship...”

  “There’s no time.” She reached into her pocket and took out two folded sheets of paper. “We figured out the journal. There was no hidden code, aside from notes jotted in here and there in Morse code. The whole thing was a map.” She unfolded them and handed one sheet to him. “This is where we are right now.” She tapped a spot on the map. “And this is where you need to go.”

  Maddock knew in a glance that Spenser’s map was consistent with Iturbe’s. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been stumped by the journal.

  “A map? How?”

  Spenser fidgeted, tugged at her hair, not quite managing to conceal her look of triumph. “It’s one of those things you can’t see until you see it, and then you can’t unsee it.”

  “But you figured it out?”

  “Riv and I worked on it together. But I made the breakthrough. Does it sound bad to say that?” She bit her lip.

  “Not at all.”

  She batted her eyelids and flashed a coy smile. “I’m an Indiana Jones girl at heart. I want you to find the treasure. Take advantage of the confusion and get out of here. If anyone asks, I’ll say you’re looking for more captives or traffickers the others might have missed.”

  “Come with us.” Maddock couldn’t believe what he was saying. “You deserve to be there.”

  “Not this time. I’d only slow you guys down and the clock is ticking. Besides, Segar and Gold want to get me on camera. Good publicity.”

  “Thank you.” The words seemed so inadequate to Maddock that, on impulse, he fished into his pocket, dug out the largest of the black pearls he had found, and pressed it into her palm. “Here, you hold onto that until I get back.” She marveled at it, then flashed a sly grin. “If you don’t come back, I’m keeping this.”

  “In that case I guess I’d better make it back.”

  Chapter 38

  ––––––––

  “Looks like Striker was on the right track,” Maddock said as he and Bones followed the path laid out by the map. “Hopefully he didn’t actually find the treasure.” “Of course he didn’t,” Bones said. “That’s what you and I are for.” He was limping a little. Maddock wasn’t the only one who had been through the wringer. With a map to guide them and no fear of running into human traffickers, they moved quickly. Although the directions were easy to follow, many of the passage- ways they entered were well-hidden. It was easy to see how they had gone largely undiscovered.

  The way grew steep, plunged them deep beneath the earth.

  “It’s going to be one hell of a climb back out,” Maddock said.

  “Maddock,” Bones said seriously as he ducked beneath a low-hanging stalactite, “I’m too tired to deal with your negative take on everything.”

  “Fair enough.” Maddock glanced down at the map, then looked around. The caverns down here were pristine. They were likely the first people to pass this way since Striker. And before him? Maybe Juan Iturbe.

  He looked around, got his bearings, and shone his light on a meter-wide crack in the wall. “The next chamber is that way. According to Striker’s map, this is the end of the line.”

  They slipped through the narrow opening and found themselves in a chamber that was more like an art gallery than a cavern. The stalactites had been sculpted to resemble the tentacles of the kraken. Stalagmites and boulders were shaped like coral, eels, and even a mermaid. It was like being deep beneath the sea. They shone their lights all around, marveled at the sights.

  “Somebody must have spent a lifetime on this place,” Bones said. Maddock couldn’t disagree.

  They made a quick inspection of the small cavern but found neither treasure nor another way out.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Bones complained. “Tell me this isn’t the end of the line.”

  Maddock took out his cell phone and reviewed the photos of Iturbe’s map. He quickly located the chamber in which they stood.

  “Look at this! Iturbe’s map doesn’t end here. There should be a passageway leading out.” He looked up. “Should be right about one o’clock.”

  “Doesn’t look promising,” Bones said as they moved in that direction.

  Sure enough, there was nothing there. Just a blank wall. No stray boulders hiding a passageway, no obvious trapdoors, not even a crack.

  “Could the map be wrong?” Bones asked.

  “No, there’s no way,” Maddock said, shining his light around. “Can you imagine the time and effort that went into making this place? And why put it way the hell down here unless it’s a place of significance.”

  “That was my thinking, too. So, what did Striker miss?”

  “The map is two-dimensional, which could mean that the passageway could be, I don’t know, above or below us. But, if that’s the case, how do we get in?”

  They looked around. Maddock marveled at the wonders of this very strange place. He ran his hand across a starfish. The texture was perfect.

  “I don’t think Iturbe and his men ever tried to find civilization. I think, like you said, they stayed here and made this place their life’s work.”

  “All of that work for a cargo of pearls?” Bones said. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “I know. Which suggests this is more than just a treasure vault.”

  Bones folded his arms. “Isn’t that always the way?” He reached up and touched the tip of one of the stone tentacles. “Any bright ideas?”

  “This place was built by sailors,” Maddock said. “Men who, above all else, loved the sea.”

  “I hope you’re not expecting praise for that brilliant insight,” Bones said. “Considering what we’re surrounded by.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Striker was a prospector at heart. So, what did he overlook down here that a true man of the sea would recognize immediately?”

  Bones shrugged. “I recognize everything in here. Doesn’t help.”

  “Start over with an open mind. There’s got to be something here. Iturbe went to the trouble of leaving the map. What would be the point if it didn’t lead somewhere?”

  Finally, Bones spotted something.

  “This thing over here is weird-looking. At first, I thought it was a tentacle wrapped around something, but now that I look at it up close, it’s not quite right.”

  Maddock looked at the odd sculpture. It rang a bell. And then he remembered.

  “That’s because it’s not a tentacle. Those are the entrails of Saint Erasmus. The thing they’re wrapped around is a windlass.”

  “Explain,” Bones said.

  “Erasmus of Formica, commonly known as Saint Elmo, is the patron saint of sailors and of abdominal pain.”

  Bones cocked his head. “How in the hell do you become the saint of upset stomachs?”

  “By pissing off the Roman Emperor over and over until he has your gu
ts tied to a winch and cranked out of your body. Which is why this is one of the symbols associated with Saint Erasmus.”

  Bones absently rubbed his belly as he reassessed the oddly carved stone. And then he stood stock-still.

  “We forgot something.”

  “What’s that?” Maddock asked.

  “The message included with Iturbe’s map. ‘Walk with the luck of the saints.’

  Could that be a clue?”

  Maddock instantly knew Bones was on to something. “That would make sense.

  This is the only sculpture we’ve seen that obviously relates to one of the saints. It’s also the sort of thing a seventeenth century sailor might identify as significant in a way a prospector like Striker wouldn’t.” He took out his knife, knelt, and prodded at the base of the object. The stone was different, more porous than the other sculptures. He dug in and twisted the knife and a large chunk of stone broke off.

  “It’s fake,” Maddock said with a note of triumph in his voice.

  Bones took out his own knife and they chipped away at the mortar until they struck metal. Some more work revealed a hexagonal iron rod set in the floor. “Holy freaking crap,” Bones said. “The sculpture is covering an actual crank.” “So, even if Striker recognized this one shape as being unusual, he wouldn’t have been able to turn the crank unless he cleared all the mortar away from the base.”

  Bones grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

  They worked for a few more minutes until they’d cleared the mortar from the base of the crank. Maddock’s heart raced. What were they about to find?

  “You found it, you do the honors,” he said.

  Bones stood and gripped the windlass in both hands. He paused and looked to

  Maddock.

  “Righty tighty, lefty loosy, you think?”