by Hep Aldridge
They guided me to my seat, and I buckled myself in and, as the engines exploded into life, I heard Fitz over the Com say, “All right, boys and girls, playtime is over, and it’s time to adios on out of here,” as he applied power and we rolled off the taxiway and surged down the runway. I guess it was the pain medication that kept me foggy, and I dozed on and off for the first couple of hours of the flight. Once my head cleared, I saw Joe sitting across from me with the metal briefcase on his lap.
He saw me looking at it and said, “Are you ready for this, Colt?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I want to know if what’s in there was worth getting shot for.” He unstrapped and brought it to me. I stared at it for a minute and then popped the latches and lifted the lid. In it was a folded sheet of paper lying on a leather-wrapped package. I unfolded the paper and scrawled on it was La Confradia… what the hell? I laid it aside and slowly undid the leather wrappings on the package and found myself looking at another journal, much like the one we had found in the wreck. The leather was still somewhat supple and only slightly dried out.
I carefully opened it and saw some strange markings or writing on the first two pages and then recognized the unmistakable handwriting of our Jesuit friar from 1715. There were also pieces of knotted cord interspersed between pages in the latter part of the journal; they reminded me of bookmarkers I had seen for sale in the States, but those were more macramé kinds of things.
By now, the guys had gathered around, all peering into the case, “Another journal?” Dimitri asked.
“I think so,” I said as I handed it to Doc and said, “Okay, Doc, tell us what we have.”
He skimmed the pages quickly now being familiar with the friar’s handwriting and syntax as I looked at the paper I had removed. What the hell is this about? I thought. Doc turned the pages faster, skipping some and examining the knotted cords as he came to them. He slowed and studied some of the pages more intently.
After several minutes, he looked up at our expectant faces and said, almost in disbelief, “I think what we have is the second journal our friar had promised to send to King Philip, which obviously never got sent. It’s dated 1717.” He had his Cheshire cat grin on again…
“And?” I asked.
“And I’m pretty sure it’s information on how to find the library!”
THE END
About the Author
A retired college administrator, Hep Aldridge is a certified scuba diver, cave diver and amateur archaeologist whose main area of interest is Pre-Columbian cultures of the Americas. He has led or been part of archaeological expeditions to Mexico and Honduras, making discoveries that have been reported in National Geographic Magazine.
Hep’s related interest in space, and space exploration and “things unknown” was fueled by his father who worked for NASA. While living in New Mexico, he began to question the many strange and unexplained things he saw in the night sky in the mid 60’s, and also developed an interest in lost treasure that has stayed with him his whole life.
The combination of these diverse interests led to the genesis of the Risky Business Chronicles, Book One, his first novel of a three part series.
Hep is an Air Force veteran and resides on Florida’s Space Coast.
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