Relic

by Roger Weston

  El Jefe said, “My actions five years ago were regrettable. I admit it, but I was barely clinging to life. I was just trying to survive. You know that.”

  “And what do you think I’m doing right now, Santiago? It’s no different.”

  “Even if that were true, your tactics are misguided. The Confession is symbolic of power within the Augean Command, power over the world, but it’s not for the public. With modern science, the artifact can be revealed as a fraud.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Irina said. “Don’t you see? Experts always disagree, but the media creates the spin. They control the focus. The public only sees what the media wants them to see. And the media is easy to control, especially when they like the narrative. Anyway, from now on, only approved scientists will ever see the Confession. I can’t talk anymore. I have a wedding to prepare for. I just want to confirm that you will be there. After all, it is tradition to attend your son’s wedding, isn’t it?”

  El Jefe was silent for a minute. Irina could feel the tension even on the phone.

  “Yes.”

  “I am glad,” Irina said. “In the name of reconciliation, I would also like to invite three of your top capos.”

  “Yes, I will be there,” El Jefe said, but he sounded sad. “I’ll invite a couple of my men—in the name of reconciliation.”

  CHAPTER 42

  September 13

  Los Pisos Army Ammunition Depot was located in a remote corner of Patagonia, which was an enormous, windy, treeless plateau in the South of Argentina. Patagonia was a sweep of vast emptiness, over 2,000 kilometers from north to south. Few people lived here.

  Flying above Los Pisos de Esteban, a remote region not even labeled on most maps, Jake saw nothing but emptiness for a hundred miles. From the air it looked like dead brown grass flats that stretched on unbroken but for occasional lakes and wetlands.

  His chartered helicopter had brought him within ten miles of the Los Pisos Army Depot. He’d hiked from there to avoid alerting anyone of his presence in the area.

  The whole way he’d been pushed and shoved by a strong wind as he hiked through a haze of dust. As he approached the Army depot, he lay down on the ground and crawled the last mile. It was a long way to crawl, but this was grassland, and there was no cover in sight. Plus, with no ghillie suit, he had to stay low. At least he’d brought a light brown shirt, jacket and pants so that he would blend in.

  The Los Pisos Army Depot consisted of twelve hummocky “igloo” bunkers. The igloo bunkers were big metal buildings—sort of igloo-shaped but they probably looked more like airplane-hangers.

  As he’d suspected, the Los Pisos Army Depot had security; however, it looked like civilian security. Not even that, really, because civilian security agents wore uniforms. The guy Jake saw was wearing civilian clothes. He looked like a thug with an Uzi.

  Jake was suddenly wondering who the private contractor in charge of security was—and whether Rosario Corporations included a security contractor. If so, was Rosario skimming ordnance and selling it on the secondary market? Jake guessed he probably was, but that was not Jake’s concern. He was here to rescue the kidnapped metals expert. It would be a bonus to find out what the man knew and what they did to him, but the priority was save his life. Jake often thought of the poor homeless man who was killed by his boat. He would do anything to stop the killing of another innocent person—particularly one associated with the Confession.

  It took an extra half hour crawling through the scrub grass at a snail’s pace for Jake to change his approach so that he would have an igloo bunker between himself and the guard. Then he stood up and snuck along the side of the bunker in a crouching run. But he saw something at the corner of his eye and dove to the ground.

  Looking down the long gravel road, Jake saw a plume of dust a couple of miles away. A vehicle was approaching—quickly.

  CHAPTER 43

  There wasn’t time to crawl back out in the scrub grass. The driver of an approaching vehicle would have a clear view of him. If he ran around the building, the guard would see him. The only cover in sight was a long stack of decommissioned ordinance along the side of the building. Jake scrambled for it. He regretted it as soon as he got there, but he had no other good options. As he crawled behind the stack of old obsolete bombs, he realized that they were armor-piercing bombs. Jake felt himself getting angry and starting to sweat. He had no idea whether he was exposing himself to depleted uranium or not, but this wasn’t the kind of place he liked to spend time.

  Jake shook his head. Now instead of one armed thug to deal with, he would soon have more. Not so easy. He had to take action now and fast. Any kind of a hostile approach would earn him a hostile response that would not go well. Jake would take the opposite approach.

  He got out his pocket knife and pricked his thumb. Blood started to flow, and for a minute he wiped streaks of blood on his face. He tore his shirt and slashed his pant leg, then started crawling toward the guard.

  CHAPTER 44

  Crawling toward the centurion with streaks of blood on his face and dirty, torn clothes, Jake moaned, “Help me, I need a doctor. Help me, please.” He collapsed on the gravel.

  Looking as pathetic as possible, he reached out for the guard. “My airplane crashed twenty miles east of here. I’m hurt. I’ve been without water since yesterday.”

  Holding his uzi as his chest, the guard said, “Can you stand up?” He glanced down the gravel road.

  Jake glanced anxiously back at the road. The plume of dust was getting closer.

  “Stand? I think so.” Jake tried but then collapsed. He crawled toward the thug and reached out. “Please, help me.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “My plane crashed.” Jake crawled closer. “Please, sir. I need water. Medical help.”

  “What are you, American?”

  “Yes.” Jake dragged himself along. “Flying to Ushuaia.” Jake was now just a couple of feet away. “Give me a hand.”

  The guard shook his head. “There’s people coming. They can…”

  Just as the guard stepped back, Jake reached out and grabbed his ankle, pulling his foot out from under him and causing him to fall. Now Jake dove on his arm as the guard swung the Uzi toward him.

  With his free hand, the guard grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head back. Jake responded by delivering an elbow to his face. A loud cracking sound gave life to a scream. Jake tried to wrench the Uzi free, but couldn’t. For a second time, he swung his elbow. The thug was knocked out cold.

  Jake dragged him to the door, which was locked. Jake rifled through his pockets and found keys. He glanced at the approaching vehicle. It was a mile out now and moving fast.

  Jake tried several keys then found the right one. The door opened. The lights were on, but the building was completely empty—no shelves, no racks, no bombs, nothing. Evidently the Rosarios had cleaned it out and sold the ordinance to the highest bidder, but why have a thug guard an empty building? Yet this was the location that Stuart gave to Ashley, the exact building.

  It was old news, he thought. The prisoner had been moved.

  Then Jake saw a set of metal pipe railings. It was a stairway down into some kind of underground bunker. He dragged the guard inside, let the door close, and ran for the stairs. He descended cautiously, but quickly. He found a long underground hallway and followed it, his feet padding over the tiles as he ran. He checked several doors and found empty office space. He ran fast and checked doors. As he came around a corner too fast, he came face to face with another guard, this one fifty yards away down the hallway.

  The thug panicked. He threw down his magazine and reached for his Uzi.

  Jake squeezed off two shots in self-defense. The guard twisted to the ground, his Uzi clattering across the linoleum tiles. Jake sprinted to the action and kicked the gun away. He checked the door and found it locked, so he shot the lock and kicked open the door.

  It was another empty office, except for two men at a table
. One man had clearly been beaten up and tortured. The other man—the torturer—was using him as a human shield, holding a gun to his head.

  Jake stepped behind the door jamb so that he was less exposed.

  “Get away!”

  Jake said, “Cooper, I’m here to take you home. Do whatever I tell you.”

  The gunman didn’t like that. He shoved the gun harder against Cooper’s head, kinking it over sideways. He said, “Do anything, Cooper, and I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

  “You bastard,” Cooper said. “That’d be the kindest thing you ever did.”

  Jake said, “Drop to the floor—now!”

  Cooper delayed half a second, then dropped. The gunman struggled to hold him up, but he was exposed, so he aimed at Jake and fired.

  Jake also fired, blasting him with a single shot at his upper chest below his right shoulder. The torturer’s hand stopped working right and he involuntarily dropped his gun. Cooper rose up on his knees and shoved him. The torturer staggered backwards and fell onto his side.

  Jake said, “Cooper, let’s go now.”

  “The recording!” Grabbing the table, Cooper pulled himself up. He reached for an electronic device on the table.

  “Hurry up.”

  Cooper took one step and stopped. He was wavering like a reed in the wind.

  Jake hurried to his assistance, holding him up.

  “This way,” Jake said as they stepped out into the hallway.

  “There’s a faster way out!”

  “Show me.”

  Cooper limped down the hallway, and Jake kept an arm around his shoulder to help him stay on his feet. After they turned the corner, twenty steps brought them to a stairway. Jake heard voices back down the hall, so he said, “Get up the stairs. I’ll be right back.”

  He ran to the corner, reached the Uzi around the brink and squeezed off a burst. Then he looked, in time to see one man flee into the torture room. A second man was holding his arm, which was hit. Jake could have finished him off, but didn’t.

  Jake caught up with Cooper on the upper level, which had led them into an ordinance warehouse. It was full of bombs on racks, bombs in stacked crates—lots and lots of bombs. These were not small bombs. They were not firecrackers. Jake was no expert, but these looked like five thousand-pound bombs—very big. Jake dialed a number on his satphone. He got a fast answer and said, “Move.”

  He then put away the phone.

  Jake cracked open the door and made eye contact with an approaching gunman. He slammed the door and ducked down just as the man stitched a line of bullet holes above his head.

  Crouching down, Jake ran to Cooper and took him by the arm. He had already noticed that all the buildings had front and back doors.

  “Wait a minute.” Jake pulled a flask of Everclear liquor out of his pocket.

  “You’re going to drink?”

  “No, man, of course not.” Jake smashed the glass quart against a wooden crate. Then flicked a match at it. The grain alcohol lit up like gasoline.

  “Those are bombs,” Cooper yelled. “You’re insane!”

  Jake took him by the arm and led him to the back of the bunker. “Maybe, but I’m here for you.”

  As they exited, Jake heard a voice say, “Fire! We’ve got to stop it.”

  Jake led Cooper a couple of bunkers over and searched the skyline. His helicopter was supposed to be here, but it was nowhere in sight. What was going on? He called the number again, but this time got no answer.

  “Stay here,” Jake said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He ran around the building and spotted the Hummer. The coast was clear so he made a sprint for it. Just then a gunman stepped out shooting from around another bunker. Jake dove behind the Hummer and slid on the gravel. As he slid out from behind the Hummer, he fired a burst at the shooter. The man jerked and limped back around the building. Jake climbed into the Hummer and found that the keys were missing. Fortunately, when he was a kid, Stuart taught him well the art of hotwiring and stealing vehicles—along with all aspects of escape and evasion. He had the beast running in less than sixty seconds.

  The wheel spun and spit out a rooster tail of gravel as Jake did a doughnut. He got the Hummer sideways and he swung around the bunker. He stopped where he left Cooper.

  But Cooper was gone!

  “I said wait!” Jake yelled, slapping the steering wheel. “Is that so hard to understand?” He honked the horn and figured it was a stupid thing to do. He dialed on his satphone and got an answer.

  “Hurry up! Look for the Hummer! Get moving!”

  The back door of the bunker flew open. It was Cooper, and he was carrying an RPG launcher. He got in the back seat. “I thought we might need this.”

  “I’ll tell you what to think!” Jake yelled with fury. He put the pedal to the metal and peeled out. As he was leaving the compound bullets hit the Hummer but didn’t penetrate.

  “Nice,” Jake said. “This thing is plated with depleted Uranium.”

  A loud blast rocked the Hummer and blew out the back window.

  Jake hit the brakes and slid sideways to a stop. Just then one of the bunkers erupted like a volcano. Jake felt every atom in his body vibrate. He hit the gas and sped down the road at sixty-five. In the rear-view mirror, he watched secondary explosions in one bunker envelope another bunker, setting off a new chain of explosion. It was amazing. One massive chain of explosions after another ripped through the ordinance depot.

  With ringing ears and a ringing head, Jake said, “Are you crazy firing that thing in here?”

  “They tortured me forty-eight hours.”

  “Why did they kidnap you?”

  “The Christ Confession. They wanted me to verify that it was authentic.”

  “Did you?”

  “I resisted for two days. I endured two days of torture.”

  “Did you authenticate?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you resist? How could you resist for so long?”

  “What I suffer in this life is small compared to my eternal reward.”

  In the rear-view mirror, Jake watched another awesome series of explosions.

  He said, “Why did you grab the electronic device?”

  “It’s proof that they were trying to force me to lie.”

  “Where is the Confession now?”

  “Brian Hastings had it, but they told me they killed him.”

  “You mean Brian Hastings from the University of Washington? He’s dead?”

  “Yes, the Confession is gone. The woman took it. It’s clearly fake.”

  “How could they hide the truth?”

  “They were going to kill me if I didn’t lie. They have other scientists who say whatever they’re paid to say. They’re the only ones who will get to inspect the Confession.”

  “Why is it so important to them?”

  “I don’t know that.”

  Now Jake saw the helicopter, so he stopped the Hummer as the bird swooped in and hovered on the ground nearby, swirling up a storm of dust.

  Jake helped Cooper into the copter. Then they were flying north toward Buenos Aires.

  ***

  Back at the airfield in Buenos Aires, Jake got a phone call.

  “Jake, this is Nick Rosario.”

  Jake dropped his bag on the tarmac. “Hi Nick, your guy have any trouble with the inspection?”

  “No, the ship was fine. He said you weren’t there.”

  “That’s right. I decided to get out of town, see the real Argentina.”

  “Well, I hope you weren’t disappointed.”

  “Not at all. It’s a lively country. Very exciting.”

  “And what did you think of the Argentine people?”

  “Very hospitable. They know how to welcome a traveler.”

  “Good. Oh, one other thing, Sands. I tried to call you earlier. My brother is getting married to Irina Rosario. It’s a long story. I’ll expl
ain another time. They’re having a big wedding party tomorrow this evening. It’s about an hour outside of town. If you’re up for it, why don’t you drop by? It will be quite a party.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll be there.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have my messenger drop some directions by your hotel.”

  Jake was pleased. If he was going to get some evidence to clear his name, he needed a lucky break, and this just might be it.

  He called Ashley. “Ash, I need help.”

  “What’s going on?

  “I need you to tell Stuart that Irina is marrying Ajax Rosario this evening. I’ll be at the wedding. I’m not sure how this will go if Irina knows I’m coming. Hopefully, everything will be alright. If there’s any way Stuart can get some backup for me, I’d appreciate. If not, no problem. I know it’s a tall order. I’ll figure out something else. Whatever happens, just tell him thank you for everything. And you, too, Ash, thank you. You’re a special person.”

  Jake quickly hung up and turned off his phone. He had to hurry if he was to make this wedding. Only problem was he had no idea what would happen if Irina—or one of her goons—spotted him on her special day.

  CHAPTER 45

  At around 5pm, cars began to arrive at Ajax’s 1,000-acre estancia. One after another they arrived—Mercedes, Jaguars, Bentleys, BMW’s, Porsches, and Rolls-Royces. Beautiful and wealthy people got out of these cars. The men wore expensive tuxedos. The women wore glittering dresses that cost more than the hired help made in three years. Valets parked the cars and stuffed their pockets with tips. Like immortals, the lucky men and women on the invite list made their way past the statues and the fountains to the pink mansion. Some wandered over to the sprawling pool to admire all the fountains, get a drink at one of the white tents, and talk with the rich and the famous. There were no paparazzi in sight. Security had been warned to keep them out.

  By 6 p.m., five hundred exclusive guests were standing in groups either by in the front or the back of the house, or out on the lawn by the food and service tents. Men had several different games of croquet underway. Servants dressed in white held the players’ drinks when it was their turn to swing a mallet.