by Hep Aldridge
Tony jumped in and said, “It’s there. My model says it has to be there. The sea just doesn’t swallow up a ship that size and not leave a trace.”
“Stranger things have happened,” I said, “so, we’ll just have to keep looking till we find her.”
Nils had been out with Gus and spent several days working the site and said, “We’ll keep running the side scan and using the Neptune data we got from Fitz. If it’s out there, we’ll find it.”
Good old Lawrence had been balancing his schedule between his lady friends and the search and keeping track of the finances for the galleon team. We were still in good shape, he said, and his friends were happy, so life was good as far as he was concerned.
We all chuckled at that and Dimitri said, “No more California wine tasting excursions?”
“Hell, no,” he replied, “I’m not leaving you yahoos like that again. I learned my lesson last time. I’ll just have the wine sent here from now on!”
“All right,” I said, “let’s talk about Ecuador.”
So, for the next hour, we covered the salient details of our trip and brought the guys up to speed on our contacts, the new vehicle, and our work to date. We hadn’t made it to the village to try and find the Shuar elders, if they were still there, that was unfinished business, and we hadn’t made many significant breakthroughs on where to start our search for the village in the journal, let alone the library. We felt like we needed more info than we had gathered. We recounted the stories of Father Crespi, his relics, and their disappearance after his death. There were numerous tales of expeditions finding caves, some with minor artifacts, but no library had been found.
All of us were surprised at how many expeditions had been mounted: German, French, Japanese, Scottish/U.S., and a number of smaller ones, mostly locals or amateurs with no real evidence of anyone finding anything. But there had been accidents and attacks by bandits or drug traffickers that had been reported, and expeditions ended because of them, so we knew we had to be cautious.
Lawrence piped up, “Hey, who was the kid in the picture with you guys?”
“Oh, I almost forgot about Eduardo.” I filled everyone in on him and his contributions to our efforts.
“Wow,” Tony said, “sounds like a resourceful little dude.”
I said “Oh, yeah, sometimes too resourceful, but now one of the team!”
We spent the next few days acclimating ourselves to being stateside again and then took the Lisa B out to the search site. Gus had headed back out after our meeting, and we rendezvoused with him on a bright blue sunny morning offshore. It was good to be back on the water. I had almost forgotten the relaxation I felt being out there, and I could see it in the others.
Seas were calm as we rafted up with the Falcon and climbed aboard. Gus had two divers down, checking out some hits they had gotten on the side scan, but weren’t turning up much. As we were looking at the print-outs on the chart table, copies of recent scans, and prints of the Neptune imagery, we saw the image of the shrimp boat we had seen before, a big blob on an otherwise flat undersea plain.
“I thought for sure we would turn up something by now,” I said under my breath.
Doc was standing next to me and said, “Well she could be buried under who knows how many feet of sand by now.”
“I know,” I said “but we didn’t even pick anything up with Neptune, and Fitz said it would go 10 to 15 feet below the sand bottom. I wonder if we screwed up and are looking in the wrong place?”
Doc rubbed his shaved head and said thoughtfully, “I don’t think so, Colt, but…”
Yeah, I thought to myself, it’s a big ocean!
Gus was standing there with us and said, “Well, we’ll just keep looking till we find her. I’ve seen firsthand the luck you guys have, so I won’t start doubting you now; that’s for sure.”
We both smiled at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gus.”
He guffawed and said, “Hell, as much as you’re paying me, I’m happy to stay out here searching till Hell freezes over,” as he laughed and slapped me on the back. The thing was, I knew if I weren’t paying him much of anything, he would still stay out here searching; he was just that kind of guy.
Another week passed with no new revelations and we were getting used to being stateside when I got a text from Fitz saying to get to the Lair; he had a message for me from Ecuador. I headed that way and contacted everyone from the road. I got there, and Joe and Dimitri were already there. They had been there working on our equipment, and Joe had been helping Fitz’s guys with the noise issue he was having with the Raven. He said he thought they had come up with a solution and was looking forward to seeing or hearing how it turned out.
We all headed to the conference room and set up the link with Fitz; the others came in after we had Fitz on screen. Tony had a piece of paper in his hand and shoved it my way as he came in.
I looked at it as Fitz was saying, “We got an e-mail from one of your contacts, a Doug Robbins, who said this was urgent. That’s what Tony just handed you. He sent it to both of the addresses you left him. Look at it, and we’ll talk.”
As I scanned the e-mail, I was surprised at its content. No niceties…he cut right to the chase and said, “Senora Romero has been in touch with me with a message from her brother for you. It is of the utmost urgency that you contact him as soon as you can,” and finished with a telephone number in Ecuador. “Don’t know what’s up, but I suggest you do as the friar asks. Good luck, Doug.”
“Got any idea what this is about?” Fitz asked.
“Not at all,” I replied, “but I guess I better call him right away.”
Fitz said, “You want us to place the call? It will go through our encrypted link, and we can all hear the conversation, but you do the talking?”
“That’s fine,” I said. Fitz looked over his shoulder said something, and I heard the call being placed. After a minute or so of international connections, I heard a phone ringing.
It was picked up on the third ring. “Si,” a voice said.
I replied, “This is Colten Burnett calling for Father Eduardo González.”
“Si, Si, Senor Burnett, this is he. Thank you for responding so quickly,” he replied in English.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“Senor, you and your people have provided a miracle for our family. You saved my sister, her baby and her eldest daughters lives. We can never thank you enough and owe you a huge debt of gratitude.”
I said that “I was glad to help, but he owed us nothing; I was just glad they were all right.”
He said they were doing fine, and the daughter had regained consciousness and was recovering.
“Glad to hear,” I restated.
“You are an honorable man, Senor Burnett, and I understand you are looking for the Golden Library.”
I sat there with my mouth open. What the hell, I thought. “Yes, we are, Father,” I got out.
“Well, I have something that may help in your search, but you must come pick it up right away; it is imperative you do so, as I fear it may be a matter of life and death.”
With my mind racing, I said, “What is it?”
“Not over the phone,” he said, “you must get here as soon as possible.” He then gave an address in a small village on the west coast of Ecuador. “Please, Senor Burnett, I implore you to get here as soon as you can.”
“All right, Father, I will leave right away. I can be there in…” I saw Fitz holding up eight fingers and said, “Eight hours, will that work?”
“Yes, yes, that would be fine.”
“Good, I’ll see you then.”
Before I could sign off, he said, “And, Senor Burnett, be very, very careful; your life could be in danger.” With that, a click, then a dial tone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I sat there with my mouth open.
Fitz spoke, “What the hell was that all about?”
“I have no idea,” I said as my mind
tried to process what had just happened.
“No idea about this life and death thing?” he asked.
“None,” I replied.
Doc said, “He sounded scared.”
“Yeah, scared as hell,” Dimitri added.
“Well, the only way we’ll find out is to get back down to Ecuador,” I said. “Fitz, you said we could make it in eight hours?"
"Give me a minute," he said as he turned away from the screen and spoke to someone. He came back on a couple of minutes later. Okay, you guys grab your shit. They’re prepping Tweety Bird now and will have the Raven ready and loaded within an hour, so wheels up in ninety minutes!"
"So, sounds like you’re going too?" I said.
"Oh, hell, yeah! If you’re not sure what kind of life or death thing you may be walking into, I want to make sure you’re not the only one having all the fun. Now, get your assess moving. O’Reilly will be there in 30 to pick you up. Oh, bring cash, a fair amount of cash!” With that, the screen went blank.
We grabbed our go bags we kept at the Lair; they had the bare essentials for a quick trip almost anywhere. We were traveling light this time and had set everything we needed to in motion. I stopped by the vault downstairs, pulled out one hundred fifty thousand dollars, stuffed it in a small duffle bag, and headed for the back door when we heard the chopper approaching. We loaded up and were headed back to Fitz’s five minutes after the skids touched the ground. I climbed up front with O’Reilly and slipped on a headset.
“Life and death,” I heard her say.
“Yeah,” I replied, “sounds a little ominous.”
“Ya think?” she replied. “Any ideas?” she asked.
“None,” I said, “but we need to find out more about this friar as soon as we can.”
“I’ve already got someone working on it,” she replied. “We should have info for you before you get down there.”
“You’re not going?” I asked.
“Nope, with the colonel gone, I’ve got to keep an eye on the place, so you boys will be on your own.” She turned and looked at me, “So, try to stay out of trouble,” she laughingly quipped.
“Hey, with you not around stealing helicopters and punching police officers, that should be a piece of cake,” I replied.
We touched down next to the hangar we had seen the big 130 in, and people were running around everywhere; we jumped out, and O’Reilly gave us thumbs up and lifted off to park on the other side of the ramp where they kept the Helos. As we entered the big hangar, we saw the Raven had been folded up and loaded into the belly of the highly modified C130-J and was being strapped down. We walked up the ramp as the last of the preparations were being taken care of, into a very noisy environment. It was a tight fit as we made our way past the helicopter toward the front of the plane.
It amazed me that they could get that thing to fit in here… ingenuity and engineering, what a wonderful combination. The 130 still had the jump seats that folded down on the fuselage walls that could carry about forty passengers or twenty-five or thirty fully-kitted airborne troops. There were eight more comfortable seats set up just behind the bulkhead separating the cockpit from the cargo area… ah, the first-class section I thought.
The loadmaster in a flight suit had a wired headset on and was directing the final loading/tie down process on the Raven and the loading and securing of some heavy-duty plastic military-type storage boxes. He saw us approaching and waved to us as he pulled back one of his earpieces and said, “Dr. Burnett, you and your team can stow your gear over there,” pointing to an open hatch next to the seats. I nodded and motioned to the others. We stowed our gear, and he indicated we should be seated and put on the headsets at each seat. As I put mine on, he came over and showed me the switch wired in-line to the headset. He flipped it to the red-marked side, and I heard him say, “This is the command channel; it connects you with the cockpit.” I heard Fitz’s voice going over a pre-flight checklist and giving orders to the crew chief; the loadmaster flipped the switch to a blue marking, and having done the same to his, I heard him say, “This is a person-to-person channel. You will be able to talk to your people without interfering with the pilot’s communications, and the yellow marking allows you to hear what’s happening on the flight deck but not speak with the cockpit.” I nodded, “Red communicate with cockpit; blue, my guy’s cabin area; yellow, listen only flight deck.” He gave me a thumbs up and, since I was on the yellow channel, heard him say as he flipped to the red, “Colonel, they’re on board and strapped in.”
“Roger that,” came Fitz’s voice. “Let’s close her up and roll her out.” I heard the loadmaster pass the command along and watched as people made final checks and left the plane. Moments later, the loadmaster closed the big ramp rear door, and interior lights came on, illuminating our space in an eerie yellow glow. I felt us begin moving backward out of the hangar and saw the loadmaster making final checks before taking a seat and strapping in. I felt us stop, and then the engines started up, one at a time.
As all four came online, it surprised me at how much quieter this bird was than other 130’s I had flown in and jumped out of in my military days. The crew chief, sitting across from me, must have seen my expression of surprise when he held up his switch, and when I clicked over to the blue channel, he said “Must have flown on other 130’s before.”
I said, “Yeah, but they were much noisier than this.”
“Yeah,” he said, “the colonel has done a lot of work to this one, and it is almost comfortably quiet, not quite, but close.” I agreed as I lifted my earpiece away for a minute to listen. The rest of the team had settled in and were getting ready for take-off when a red light came on overhead, and the crew chief held up his in-line switch, flipping it to red we all did the same.
Fitz’s voice came over as the engines increased their rev’s, “Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking Thank you for flying Non-Stop Trans Love airlines; please, make sure your seat belts are securely fastened, your trays are stowed, and seats are in their upright and locked position, and all electronic devices have been turned off… or we’ll crash! Any loaded weapons or explosive devices should be safely stowed beneath your seat. Our flight time is about five and a half hours and we have 5 hours and 45 minutes of fuel on board. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight!” We were hauling ass down the runway, and I felt the aircraft leave the ground. What the hell are we getting ourselves into now? I thought.
I keyed my mic and said, “Fitz you’re freaking crazy.”
I heard him laugh… “Only when I’m flying,” he said, “only when I’m flying!”
About an hour and a half into our flight, the intercom crackled in my ear, “Colt, come to the cockpit. I’ve got something for you from O’Reilly.” I made my way to Fitz, and he handed me a tablet and said, “O’Reilly said you wanted info on the friar and just sent us this. Take it with you and let me know what you find out.”
I took the tablet and returned to my seat and started reading. It was a fairly thorough report on Father Gonzales, birthdate unknown, age unknown; he had been living in the Andes Mountains amongst the Shuar for over 50 years. No historical record of his training or where he had become ordained was found in the Catholic archives of Ecuador. He rarely came out of the mountains and then only at papal request. What? I thought. That’s when I realized Doc was reading along over my shoulder.
When I looked at him, he said, “A request from the pope?” We read on: in 1985, when Pope John Paul II had visited Ecuador, he had arranged an envoy be dispatched ahead to have the friar available in Cuenca, where he had a private meeting with him for over an hour. Once the meeting was Complete, the friar immediately returned to the mountains. When Pope Francis visited in 2015, the same thing happened, an hour-long meeting, only this time the friar stayed in Cuenca. He made two trips back and forth to the mountains, and three months later, moved to a small village on the Pacific coast. There was no mention of mother or father, only of his sister, whom he visited bo
th times he came for the papal meetings.
I looked at Doc and said, "Does this strike you as strange?"
He nodded slightly. “Usually, religious records are thorough, but there is nothing here, really.”
As we read on, after each visit, the pope made a big deal about the work the friar was doing with the indigenous mountain tribes, primarily the Shuar, who, for centuries, had been bloodthirsty headhunters. Another strange thing was the pope would hold a small press conference after his meetings and then leave after having only short meetings with the cardinals and bishops of the area. It was almost as if his main reason for coming was to meet with this friar, but why?
That was the end of O’Reilly’s report.
“Do you think the Vatican knows about this stuff? I mean the journal, library, and possible alien connection?” Doc asked.
“I don’t know. If they do, the pope’s visits make more sense, but why would this friar be contacting us?” That was a huge question that we didn’t have the answer to. Not much else in her report to help us, I got Fitz on the Com and relayed our findings or lack thereof.
“That’s rather strange,” he said.
“Just what Doc and I were thinking,” I replied. So, we were on our way to meet a mystery friar who had lived amongst the same tribe our 18th-century friar had, possibly in the same general locale, who said he had information that would help us with our search for the library. He also said it could be a matter of life or death… talk about letting it all hang out; that’s exactly what we were doing. Guess that’s why they call them leaps of faith!
We arrived at a small airport in Salinas about five hours later and unloaded the Raven for the final leg of my trip down the coast to meet the mysterious Father Gonzales. Later I found out the hard way that whole life in danger thing was real.
Chapter 1, Redux:
Three days later, after my meeting with the friar, and my recuperation in the hospital after having gotten shot, the hellish fire-fight on the dock, and my subsequent rescue by the guys in the Raven, we were high-tailing it out of the country under cover of darkness. I had hobbled aboard the Tweety Bird with Doc and Dimitri.
