by Tracy Krauss
Mark noticed the pounding in his head - his own heartbeat had accelerated and adrenaline was coursing through his body. If that green car had any connection to Sangeruka, he needed to warn Anthony. And he needed to check on his family back home.
Mark waited for several more minutes, listening to the shallowness of his own breathing. Okay. That was probably long enough. He needed to find a gas station and get the heck out of here. He was about to put the SUV in gear when he spotted it again; the green car passing slowly by on the street. He swore under his breath.
Mark took his cellphone out of his jacket pocket and punched in Anthony’s number. They had been trying not to contact one another too often via that method for fear that someone would be able to track their communication. But this was an emergency.
Pick up, pick up! Nothing. He wasn’t about to leave a message. Well, there was nothing else to do now, but take his chances. Mark crawled out onto the street and took a right. Hopefully there would be a gas station nearby and he could be on his way.
He spotted one two blocks down and drove cautiously in that direction, glancing this way and that for any sign of his ‘friend’.
Once at the gas station, he went quickly inside to prepay for the gas and then began filling his tank. He watched the meter on the pump as the numbers seemed to click by interminably slow. He was just replacing the nozzle when he saw the car again.
He tried to jump into his seat as quickly as possible, but the car was already pulling into the station at break neck speed, blocking his exit. Horns honked as several other motorists made their displeasure known. Well, maybe this was as good a place as any for a confrontation. Sangeruka’s thugs wouldn’t try anything too drastic right here in broad daylight, would they?
He waited as the driver of the car extracted himself from the driver’s seat. There was only one person in the car. That was good. Maybe he could actually take him if it came to hand to hand combat.
The man was approaching Mark’s vehicle now. Wait a minute. He looked vaguely familiar. Mark held his breath as his brain struggled to compute.
"Rocco?" Mark asked uncertainly, rolling his window down slightly.
"Geez, boss. You’re not the easiest guy to flag down."
"But… how? Why - what are you doing here?" Mark sputtered. "I thought you were dead!"
"I think we need to find a place where we can talk," Rocco suggested. "That lady don’t look too happy about our reunion."
Mark took note of the frustrated face of the woman in the next car. "Right. You lead the way."
"Sure you’re not going to take off on me?" Rocco asked.
Mark laughed. "Get going."
Rocco backed his vehicle out onto the street and Mark followed behind. They drove another few blocks to a small diner. Inside, a waitress seated them at a booth where Mark could keep an eye on his vehicle from the window.
"I’m telling you, you really led me on a chase," Rocco said, shaking his head.
"Me? You had me scared to death. I thought Sangeruka had ‘sicked’ his thugs on me."
"I was going to wake you up last night and talk to you, back at the rest stop. But then I thought I’d take pity on you and let you sleep a bit, first. When I came out of the can this morning, you were already gone."
"So? Tell me everything," Mark demanded. "Right from the moment the truck went off the road. Man, I thought you were dead. How could anyone survive a crash like that?"
"Luck?" Rocco shrugged. "Or maybe providence. I baled as soon as the truck went over the edge and somehow managed to hit some brush that cushioned my landing. The truck exploded on impact at the bottom of the ravine and I guess they figured I got toasted with it. I was pretty scratched up and sore as hell, but no broken bones. Just walked away."
"And the casket?"
"It got hung up in some brush further down, just teetering over an embankment. It took some convincing, let me tell you, to get some locals to help me retrieve it."
"You mean it survived?" Mark asked in disbelief. Renewed hope soared in his breast. "This is fantastic! This is the best news yet! With that as evidence, no one will be able to dispute our findings."
"Hold on there.” Rocco held up a hand. "I said it survived, but I didn’t say I have it in my possession."
"So who does?"
"Now that is where it gets complicated," Rocco replied. "See, once we got the container safely down from the mountain, there was a lot of curiosity about what it contained. I was afraid that Sangeruka’s gang would come after it if they found out it survived. So I had to lie - just a little bit - in order to keep it safe."
"What did you say?"
"I said it contained my Grandmother’s remains," Rocco replied sheepishly. "I told them she was a missionary in Africa and it was her greatest desire to be buried among the people she loved so well."
"And they bought it?" Mark shook his head. "Surely the markings on the casket itself would bring up some suspicion."
"Only two other men saw the casket," Rocco explained. "It was still well sealed inside the shipping container. I told them she had been fascinated by the old legends and requested her casket be modelled after them. I don’t think many people have actually seen artefacts from that far back, anyway. I mean, the legends were there, but as far as actual evidence goes, nobody has really seen it with their own eyes."
"And you don’t think there might be some suspicion since we were working on the site that housed the actually evidence? That somebody might put two and two together?"
"I did the best I could under the circumstances," Rocco defended with a shrug.
"I’m sure by now somebody has heard about the military takeover of the site, too. I can’t believe it won’t go unnoticed."
"Listen, these people are very superstitious, especially when it comes to the dead," Rocco said. "Nobody will want to disturb a dead missionary. They believe strongly in ancestral spirits, and a missionary would have some special connection with God. Nobody will want to risk the Almighty’s wrath by desecrating her bones."
"So it’s buried somewhere?" Mark asked.
Rocco nodded. "A secret location. Only the two guys I mentioned know where."
"And they can be trusted?"
“Of course. The fact that I survived a near fatal crash, along with my Grandmother’s remains, must mean something, right? God must really want her buried there, and who’s going to risk arguing with the Almighty?"
"I don’t know. I just don’t feel good about this," Mark said.
"I guess there’s not much you can do about it, now, is there?” Rocco eyed him from over his coffee mug.
"Hm. True. But it’s safe for now," Mark repeated. "You’re sure of that?"
"Nothing is sure these days," Rocco stated. "By now the International Conspiracy might have got a hold of the fact that I survived, along with the casket."
"International Conspiracy?"
"Excuse me for being paranoid," Rocco said sarcastically, "but when you’ve been shot at and assumed dead in order to keep a world changing find from coming to light, well…”
"That could just have been Sangeruka," Mark said. Somehow he didn’t believe it, though.
Obviously, neither did Rocco. "Believe me, I’ve seen enough in my time to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is much bigger than one wayward African official. I told you before. There’s all kinds of evidence out there that has never been shared with the public at large, or has been twisted so much that anyone who tries to say otherwise sounds like a stark raving lunatic."
Mark nodded his agreement. "I know. I’ve been doing my homework and it’s pretty alarming."
"Tell me about it.” Rocco snorted. "I have the scars to prove it."
"Right. But we need real proof. Proof that would stand up to the kind of scientific scrutiny that we’re sure to face."
"I’m glad you said ‘we’.” Rocco replied. "Because you just might be the man to shake up the old boys’ club once and for all."
"I’m
going to try," Mark acknowledged, "I just hope someone is listening. Now, though, if we can actually get access to the casket - get it brought somewhere secure where proper analysis can be done - well, we just might have a chance at blowing this whole thing wide open."
"You better go ahead with your plans as they are," Rocco advised. "I wouldn’t wait any longer. Doctors Sawchuk and Bergman are just chomping at the bit to release their own version of events."
"How do you know that?" Mark asked, frowning. "And how do you know about my plans?"
"I’ve still got contacts," Rocco said secretively. "I make it my job to know these things."
"Which is why you were able to tail me.” Mark nodded absently. He wondered how many other people knew about his plans or his whereabouts.
"Don’t sweat it," Rocco said. "I have good intelligence that says you’re still safe."
“Now you’re really starting to make me worried.” Mark laughed nervously. "Good intelligence? You make it sound like you work for the FBI, or something."
Rocco leaned forward, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "I guess I can trust you with this much. There really is an International Conspiracy out there - men and women who control the scientific community like so many puppets, releasing whatever information they want to release; feeding them data and facts that support their own agenda. Most scientists are like you - completely unaware that they’re being manipulated - played. But there are a few of us, guys like me who’ve been in the field and know better, who have gotten together and are trying to combat this thing."
"How come this is the first I’ve heard of it?" Mark asked.
"See, it’s like this. We have to be really careful what we say and who we say it to. Otherwise, we look like a bunch of crack pots."
"I’ve been accused of that, myself. It’s still small comfort, though, you know. Knowing that someone has been tracking my movements."
"Consider it free protection," Rocco stated.
"You really think I need it?" Mark asked.
Rocco shrugged. "Who knows?"
"Well, you certainly had me thinking along those lines.” Mark laughed. "Don’t ever scare me like that again."
"I just hope you’re ready once you actually drop the bomb."
Mark sobered instantly. "So you think there might be danger? Even after the fact?"
"I’d just watch my back."
"Makes me wonder if it’s really worth it," Mark mused.
"Of course it is," Rocco stated firmly. "That’s the whole point. If someone is willing to go to those lengths - even try to kill someone - well, you know it must be worth it."
"Right. I was just joking, anyway. I plan on going ahead. You know that. I’ve come too far to back down, now."
"Just keep that in mind. We’re counting on you."
"So, what’s this about Laura and John?" Mark asked. "You said you’ve got some info on their operation, too?"
"Yeah. Now those two are puppets if ever there were any. Totally bought into the Conspiracy’s game, if you know what I mean."
"Well, I suppose that’s some comfort," Mark mused. "At least they’re not the real bad guys."
"Don’t fool yourself," Rocco warned. "Neither one of them are exactly innocent. Did you know that John was working to undermine you with the brass right from the beginning?"
"I can’t believe that," Mark denied with a dismissive laugh.
"No?"
"We’ve been friends for years," Mark stated firmly.
"Suit yourself.” Rocco shrugged. "And your girlfriend. She was the one sabotaging the site all along."
“Laura? You have proof?"
Rocco gave him a withering look. "Remember the cave in? The data collection problems? Delays in sending and receiving important documentation. Even all the mix-ups with the government officials. All her."
"Says?" Mark probed. "Oh, right. Your intelligence network. Look, I know there were problems, but I can’t believe it was all on purpose."
"That’s your problem. Always too trusting. I suppose it’s hard not to when you were into her pants."
"Hey! That was crude! I always tried to remain professional, you know that. Besides, I had my doubts a time or two, I must admit. But I just can’t believe it was so wide spread and so… insidious. That’s all."
"Remember that missing wing bone?" Rocco asked. Mark nodded. "Just ask her about that yourself, sometime. See what she says."
"I’m not planning on that opportunity," Mark responded dryly.
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Sometimes these skirts can really pull the wool over our eyes."
"Talking from experience, again," Mark asked, trying to lighten the almost combative attitude that Rocco had adopted.
"You know it.” Rocco winked.
Mark looked at his watch. "Anyway, I really think we need to carry on. There’s still a long way to go tonight."
"Now that I finally caught up to you, I’m veering off in another direction for a day," Rocco said. "Say hi to Anthony when you see him."
"You know about Anthony, too?” Mark asked. Of course he knew about Anthony. The guy seemed to know about everything.
Rocco just nodded. He stood up and threw sufficient money on the table to cover both their drinks and the tip. "Drive safe. And don’t make any more stops off the main highway."
"Why not?"
"You just need to get your butt safely to Texas in one piece," Rocco said and grinned.
Mark nodded. That was one piece of advice he was definitely going to listen to.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mark arrived at the university campus in Texas well past two am. He’d already stopped for a stretch not far back, so his plan was to just stay put in his vehicle until morning and try to get some shuteye. It wasn’t going to be easy. His mind was racing - and not just on account of tomorrow’s prospects. How could he have misread Laura and John so badly? The sense of betrayal cut deep. Very deep.
Somehow, he dozed off. He woke with a start to somebody rapping on his window. Light was streaming in and he could feel the warmth of the Texas sun. He squinted, shielding his eyes for a moment as they adjusted themselves to the onslaught.
"Hey! Wake up in there!" It was Anthony. "What you gonna do? Sleep the day away?"
Mark shifted himself into a full sitting position and rolled down the window. "I see you made it, too," he said amid a huge yawn.
"I rolled in last night about seven o’clock," Anthony nodded. "What time did you get here?"
"About two," Mark replied.
"So you gonna sit in your car all day, or what?" Anthony asked with a grin. "Come on inside. You look like you could use a coffee."
Mark glanced down at his watch. Eight am local time. He really had slept. "I’m not going anywhere until this thing is safely unloaded," he stated.
"Sure. Let’s go meet the team, and then they can help us unload," Anthony suggested.
"No, I mean, I’m not leaving the vehicle unattended," Mark clarified.
Anthony stopped for a moment, surveying his friend. "Okay. How about if I go find somebody to show us where to unload and then we can get right on that."
"That would be good."
"You seem a bit… tense," Anthony observed. "Paranoid even."
"You wouldn’t believe who I met up with on the way," Mark replied.
"Who?" Anthony asked, eyebrows raised.
"Rocco." By the look on Anthony’s face, he was as shocked by the news that Rocco was still alive as Mark had been. "So I take it he hasn’t contacted you?"
Anthony shook his head. "You sure?" he asked doubtfully. "I mean, by all accounts, there’s no way he could have survived.”
"Believe me," Mark stated. "I’ll tell you all about it later. For now we really need to get these specimens safely unloaded."
They did just that. Mark was directed to an underground parking area where brief introductions took place. Doctor Tim Hazzard and his assistant George Krasinsky were very excited about the prospe
cts of what this find could do for the credibility of their institution. Mark felt a small pang of anxiety at that. Why did everything have to boil down to some kind of political gains?
They unloaded the precious cargo and took it up to the lab.
"We are very honoured to have you present your findings at our institution," Dr. Hazzard said. He was a man who looked to be in his early fifties, with jet-black hair that was swept back in a definite retro style. He also looked to be in good physical condition.
His colleague, Dr. Krasinsky, was younger, but with much less hair, and he sported large glasses that definitely gave him a stereotypic air. "This could be the biggest break through for creation theory yet. It’s wonderful to have someone with your credentials on our side."
"Excuse me?" Mark asked, blinking back to reality. He had been staring at Dr. Hazzard's mop of hair. "Creation theory?"
"Of course," Dr. Hazzard responded. "We are a Christian institution. We teach some very innovative interpretations of the creation model, though, I must say. We’ve got a very well trained staff with wonderful credentials." He stopped, looking puzzled. "Is there a problem?"
“I… um, no.” Mark shook his head.
"I told you it was a Christian Institution," Anthony reminded quietly. "He’s probably just a little foggy after such a long drive," he offered to the two other men.
"I hope there isn’t a problem," Dr. Hazzard went on. "We pride ourselves on doing everything above board and we certainly wouldn’t want you to feel like you’ve been duped, somehow."
"I was just hoping to present the facts in a non partisan way," Mark explained.
Dr. Hazzard nodded his head in understanding. "It’s exactly what we do here. Most theory that backs a different timeline for the universe or a different sequence of events than what we’ve all been told, bases its model on religious creationism. Even though we believe that here, we do try to present all our scientific arguments in just that way - scientifically. We don’t want to scare people off any more than you do. Of course, we do have specific classes that teach our findings in conjunction with our religious beliefs. But you needn’t worry about that. You can be as non partisan as you want." He stopped for a moment and surveyed Mark closely, the friendly smile never leaving his face. "I was simply under the impression from talking to your friend, here, that you were a believer also. I didn’t mean any offence."
