The 3rd Cycle of the Betrayed Series Collection: Extremely Controversial Historical Thrillers (Betrayed Series Boxed set)

by Carolyn McCray

  He just wanted to get in and get out. Then find out who had put them on the no-fly list and get back home.

  His tolerance for religious extremism had really run out.

  Rebecca squeezed his hand. “We knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park.”

  “Yes, but at least I’d thought we’d get inside,” Brandt responded. He wanted to get to the part where Cristoval tried to take over. That was going to be very interesting, and even though Brandt didn’t know how that was going to look, Brandt felt like he was going to enjoy it.

  Finally there was a click and Ki opened the door, sweeping his gun up and entering the backstage area.

  For all that Brandt had heard about this Tabernacle, it didn’t seem all that impressive from this angle. There were the usual cables and circuit breakers. Black walls left only a narrow passage along each side of the huge façade. Again, not very impressive.

  “Where to now?” Brandt asked.

  “Down, I suspect,” Rebecca said. “There are several lower levels, and I can only imagine a passage to a deeper subterranean chamber.”

  Right, because these were religious zealots and they seldom hide their goodies in five star hotels.

  If only.

  * * *

  Rebecca had to admit she could understand how her husband was underwhelmed with the Tabernacle at the moment. They were on the working side of the landmark. Not very attractive.

  Then they came around the corner and voilà. Magic.

  The entire width and breadth of the Tabernacle opened up in front of them. Even Brandt paused in his stride and craned his neck up and around. To say the choir’s chamber was utterly beautiful was a vast understatement.

  The entire Tabernacle was a rich goldish orange. The hardwood floor was polished to the point you could see your reflection in it.

  And the ceiling? The dome arched over them without a support in sight. Rebecca thought she remembered the Mormons used bridge technology at the time, but she didn’t share this information. She knew how her travelogues annoyed her husband.

  Rebecca couldn’t help herself. This building was a wonder of turn-of-the-century architecture. She marveled at the chandeliers that hung from the high dome. The rows and rows of pews for the choir. Then the high towers behind them that framed the singers as if they descended from heaven.

  “Come on, just do it,” Lopez’s voice broke the wondrous silence. He was urging Ki to do something.

  “What is going on?” Brandt asked.

  Lopez groaned. “I just asked Ki to go drop this grenade pin at the center of the stage. We should be able to hear it from here.”

  Rebecca could tell that her husband was about to retort, when Bridget grabbed the pin from Lopez and hurried down the aisle, passing dozens of rows of pews for the audience to the center of the stage.

  The young woman smiled and dropped the pin. Just as promised the acoustics were as good as billed. They could hear that pin drop. No one else seemed worried where the grenade to that pin was.

  Since there was no explosion, Rebecca guessed she didn’t need to worry either.

  Brandt cleared his throat and it sounded like he had shouted.

  Lowering his voice, Brandt said “Enough sightseeing. Let’s get a move on.”

  * * *

  It took them a few minutes more than Brandt would have liked to find the door to the staircase. So much for Stark and his “floor plans.” So far the guy wasn’t exactly batting a thousand today.

  Even so, Ki opened the door, flipped on the light and headed down the steps, taking each one at a time, checking his corners, no matter how narrow they were. The rest of them followed. Brandt made sure that Cristoval was right in front of him. He didn’t want to let that man out of his sight.

  Just like backstage, this staircase and the lower level they reached weren’t nearly as impressive as the Tabernacle itself. That had been amazing, and Brandt wasn’t easily amazed.

  But now they were down in the storage area. Apparently this was where they stored the Christmas decorations and Easter items.

  They made their way across the level and found another door down. To another storage area. Only this one was half the size.

  It shouldn’t take them long to find the hidden door. He just had to let Rebecca roam around and touch things. He grinned at the memory.

  “Well, babe?” He asked.

  “There are a few scattered symbols,” Rebecca said pointing at a rather dingy looking wallpaper. “I think they are a map.”

  “Pointing to?” Brandt asked.

  “Give me a few,” Rebecca said, snapping pictures, sending them to Bunny. They had little reception down here, but enough to get the pics out.

  “Sir,” Ki said.

  Brandt left his wife’s side, as she studied the glyphs and headed over to his point man. “Yes?”

  “Sir, I think there may be a false wall here. Look how it slopes inward. This doesn’t match the pattern of the upper level.”

  As Brandt studied the wall, he came to realize the large point man was correct.

  “Rebecca look at this,” Brandt said indicating to the wall in question.

  * * *

  Bunny studied the symbols that Rebecca had sent, as Stark reviewed the floor plan and tried to make sense out of this false wall. He knew that Brandt was none too thrilled with him at this moment, but clearly the architects had decided to modify the building after they had submitted the plan to the city.

  “Yes, there does seem to be a ten foot gap between the planned walls and the one you are looking at,” Stark stated.

  Bunny made a startled sound which brought Stark’s attention to her. Apparently the shaman and Rojas had gotten tired of meditating and were standing behind Bunny. Cama leaned in past Stark’s mother to listen in.

  “Well?” Bunny asked the men. Neither answered. “You guys do want to find your stash right?”

  Again, there was no comment from the men. Apparently they’d thought somehow Brandt would give up and move on then the Brotherhood could sweep in and grab up the artifacts.

  Yah, that wasn’t how Brandt rolled.

  “Look,” Bunny said. “You help us right now or the team bugs out and we call in an anonymous tip about the wall.”

  The shaman grunted and pointed to a few symbols on the screen. Bunny was all over it. Stark was reminded constantly why he was fascinated by her.

  “Rebecca, there are four faint symbols which I believe delineates the false wall. You should be able to blow a hole in the middle.”

  “Copy that,” Rebecca responded.

  Boy, was Stark glad he was in the attic. Blowing things up always made him queasy.

  “You might want to turn off your speakers,” Brandt advised.

  Yep, attic life was for Stark.

  They turned off the line for a few moments, then turned it back on to the sound of coughing and choking, the usual sounds after the team blew something up.

  “Well?” Bunny urged. “What did you find?”

  There was no answer, just utter silence on the line.

  * * *

  Davidson squinted. Had the Tabernacle just shook?

  “Guys?” Davidson asked.

  Apparently they had blown the door, but the comms in the Tabernacle weren’t working any longer either.

  “Um…” Stark said in Davidson’s ear.

  “Yes?”

  “We might have a little problem.”

  “How little?” Davidson asked.

  “Well, the Temple Square security has been alerted to the break-in and the Salt Lake police and fire department have been dispatched.”

  “How?” Davidson demanded. They were supposed to be in and out without anyone the wiser. He knew his team hadn’t broken silence. “Does Cristoval have some kind of communications device on him?”

  They had checked the cultist of course, but these religious weasels were sneaky. Davidson should know, he used to be one of them.

  “We’ve got to warn the team,”
Davidson stated.

  “Love to, but they aren’t responding at all.”

  That was Davidson’s experience as well. It appeared they were too deep down for Davidson to give any kind of warning.

  It was decision-making time. Executive decision-making time. Should he stay up here and provide cover, as he had been instructed to? Or should he climb down and warn the team.

  Logic seemed to dictate to go warn the team, but his gut told him to stay put. He needed to slow the police response and carve an extraction path for the team.

  “I’m staying put,” Davidson stated. “Keep trying to get a hold of them.”

  Almost immediately Davidson regretted his decision as several guards exited the temple structure and trotted over to the Tabernacle. And in the distance, Davidson spotted black and white police cars speeding in their direction. They would be here in a few minutes, if that.

  If Davidson was going to get down it had to be now or never.

  Nope. Davidson rode his gut.

  It had gotten him this far.

  CHAPTER 20

  Brandt tried one last time, “Davidson?”

  No answer. Communications were down, but Brandt doubted very seriously if it had anything to do with them blowing the false wall, or everything to do with it.

  The comms weren’t down due to their depth underground or anything physical like that. No, Brandt was pretty damned sure that someone, someone with his group had triggered some kind of jamming mechanism.

  What was Lopez’s anthem? There’s always a mole.

  Brandt glanced over to the people cramming into the small room bordered by the false wall.

  Rebecca? Um, if it was Rebecca, Brandt had a whole other world of hurt coming at him. Lopez?

  The only religion Lopez subscribed to was speed, and Brandt gave him plenty of opportunity to revel in that.

  Cristoval? They had searched him, but these religious cults couldn’t be trusted.

  Then he came to the most uncomfortable person. Ki. He was new. Brandt didn’t know him personally. He only knew what was in the man’s jacket. Could he somehow be related to the Brotherhood? But the man had just been plucked from being discharged. How could the cult have counted on that?

  Next was Bridget. How in the world could she have intersected with the cult? She was Svengurd’s niece, probably the least likely person beyond Rebecca to betray them.

  Another uncomfortable proposition, Davidson. The jamming could be coming from outside the Tabernacle. The man had been a cult pawn before, was he predisposed to such treachery?

  Brandt dare not bring his concern about Davidson up with Rebecca. She’d snap his head off. His wife thought of Davidson as a little brother. Brandt did not envy the person that doubted Davidson’s loyalty.

  “Sir?” Ki asked. Clearly the man had said something that Brandt missed while suspecting the point man of duplicity.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s no sign of a way out and otherwise the hidden room seems unremarkable.”

  Brandt just nodded, his mind still preoccupied by his concerns.

  Ki stepped forward. “Sir, what is out next step?”

  Absently, Brandt waved to Rebecca. “Clear out and let Rebecca do her thing.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ki said, urging everyone out of the room.

  Could such a polite and respectful soldier be the mole? As much as Brandt hated to think back to that time, Davidson had been even more personable. Back then it was Brandt who thought of Davidson as the little brother he never had.

  Who was going to betray Brandt this time?

  * * *

  Rebecca tilted her head. There were no obvious symbols on the wall, just a few scrapes and scratches. She was trying to make sense of those, without much luck.

  And without any bars, she couldn’t get anything to Bunny to help her out. Stark and his computer program seemed pretty good at piecing together patterns. She could use a little of that help right now.

  Stupid cults. Couldn’t they just write things down? Would that be so hard? No, instead they had to use a combination of constellations and ancient Peruvian symbols.

  Or did they?

  Ki had already checked for any sign of the rub marks a hidden door would make. But what about the marks that would be made if someone pressed on these scrapes? Could that give her a clue to which of these seemingly random marks actually being important?

  She reached outside the small room. “Black light?”

  Velcro ripped open, as her husband fetched the item.

  “Shut the door, but not too tight,” Rebecca asked.

  Brandt stepped into the small room with her before partially closing the door.

  Once the room was dark enough, Rebecca flicked on the black light and shined it on the wall. One of the “scratches” had biological matter on it. Rebecca didn’t want to think of what type.

  She reached out and tapped the symbol with the butt of the black light.

  A loud clunk sounded. Her eyes found her husband’s. They both knew what that sound meant. He dove for her. She tried to throw herself backwards.

  Neither effort was in time.

  * * *

  That was his wife. The trap door savant. They really should plan better for her talent.

  This time, instead of a trapdoor dropping out from under her, the floor tilted up as a door opened in front of her. Shoved forward, Rebecca fell head first into the tunnel. To her credit, she only gave a small peep of surprise.

  By the time Brandt arrived at the wall, the door was already closed. He had no idea which symbol Rebecca had hit, so he just slammed each of them. As the rest of the team assembled in the room.

  Finally, he hit the correct one and was catapulted into the tunnel. Luckily, it wasn’t far. He fell headfirst down a stone tunnel, landing face first on a dirt floor. Rebecca was already up and exploring this new chamber.

  They had to be three to four stories underground.

  His eyes adjusted to the low light. A hidden mechanism had lit torches on the wall. Flames flickered against the dark rock walls.

  As far as brooding religious cult dens, Brandt would give this a three. Not a lot of gold. Only etchings on the wall. No giant statues. No cities of salt.

  The cave might not be impressive, however, Rebecca seemed enthralled. She had immediately gravitated to a set of three pedestals.

  One held an ancient bible that his wife was carefully thumbing through. That must be the supposed Jesus Gospel. The other held a few odd rocks. The third pedestal bore old robes with bloodstains.

  Brandt became distracted, as others came down the stone chute. Cristoval was second after Ki. Then Lopez and Bridget.

  Cristoval’s pupils were completely dilated and not from the lack of light. He looked like a dentist’s kid in a candy shop. To him, this cave contained the culmination of his life’s work.

  Brandt could already tell though, by his wife’s reaction, that the bible did not hold the answers that Cristoval thought they would.

  * * *

  “May I?” Cristoval asked with wonder in his voice.

  Rebecca moved out of the way to allow the leader of the Brotherhood to step up to the bible. Ever so meticulously, Cristoval turned the pages, scanning the words on the page which were written in old English. What the man didn’t seem to realize was the front of the bible was in the original Greek, which kind of told a different story.

  “So it is true, all true,” Cristoval breathed out. “My ancestors must have given Joseph Smith our artifacts to keep safe.”

  That comment was not without its merits. Joseph Smith was the founding prophet for the Mormon Church. The church that owned the Tabernacle above them.

  Joseph Smith was a very vocal advocate that Jesus had come to the New World after he had arisen from the cave after three days. If he had this document that very clearly described the author of the document coming from the Holy Land, why didn’t he include it in the Book of Mormon?

  Why hide the document u
nder here? Why help the Brotherhood?

  Rebecca tilted her head, ducking under Cristoval, so that she could read the Greek part of the Bible. Clearly Cristoval could not, since he concentrated on the English translation.

  Rebecca knew from some pretty hard-won experience that translations of ancient Greek could be easily corrupted. Not intentionally, but people with the best intentions could just get it wrong.

  Luckily, she had her laptop with her ancient Greek to English codex. Because, you know, that’s how she rolled. It was super hard to translate ancient Greek. For one thing ancient Greeks not only didn’t use punctuation, like commas or periods, but didn’t even put a space between words.

  You can stare at an ancient Greek passage for hours upon hours and not even find the word breaks.

  Which was why she had developed this computer program to help her along her way. It scanned the entire page, because many times items much lower on the page influenced the text above. She loved ancient civilizations, but Greeks really should have upped their literary game back then.

  Rapidly she typed the text from the first page of the Greek bible. Something about the handwriting seemed so very familiar, but how could that be?

  She’d never seen a sampling of Christ’s handwriting? Had she?

  * * *

  Davidson scanned the square. Security was swarming all over the garden area, encircling the fountain with a sea of light blue uniforms. The City police were almost here as well, their sirens wailed, weaving in and out of the early morning traffic.

  There was no sign of the team. No communications with them at all. If Brandt and the rest didn’t get out of here quickly, Davidson didn’t know how they were going to. As a matter of fact he wasn’t at all sure how he was going to sneak away. Soon the entire area would be blocked by emergency vehicles.

  Lopez was not going to be happy.

  “Anything?” Davidson asked into his mic.

  Bunny answered. “We’re in the dark. We don’t have any ground-penetrating radar satellites in the area to retask. I mean, it’s Utah.”

  Whatever was down there had better be worth all this hassle.