Unfortunately for Aramus, the Order controlled many of the banks in the United States and a few in Europe. It only took a short time before documentation began coming to light that showed the greedy adept’s treason. He’d kept tens of millions of dollars from the Order, only paying a fraction of the tithe he was required to give. If the numbers had been just slightly off, that would have been excusable—a technicality that could have been overlooked. But such an enormous amount had to be accounted for.
Aramus defiantly stood his ground, claiming he had earned that money and deserved to keep it. He’d evidently forgotten how the Order had helped him fund some of his investments in the first place. In front of a conclave of twelve peers, the other adept, and the Imperator, he stood trial for treason. His judgment was swift and unanimous: death.
The means could be decided solely by the Imperator himself. They had a room in their secret gathering place that could be used for just such an occasion. In the center of the large, semicircular room, an enormous brass bull rested over a fire pit. On the side of the metal sculpture was a door. They had adopted the so-called brazen bull from ancient Greece where it had been a rare form of execution during a particularly sinister reign of power.
The victim was placed inside the metal beast and the door closed. A fire was then lit underneath, effectively roasting the victim. The most effective and disturbing means of torture was to keep the fire burning low. Hot coals could keep the person inside alive for extended periods of time, cooking them even slower than a higher flame. Internal pipes were fastened to the victim’s face and exited the mouth of the bull so that the screams of those inside would be amplified and contorted for any observers. As soon as his sentence was pronounced, Aramus Dawson realized the gravity of what he’d done. He then began to beg and plead with the conclave to give him another chance, promising to give them double what he owed.
The group was unimpressed. Once he was dead, they would take control of all of his assets, a fact the Imperator made sure he knew just before the brass door was sealed.
Mornay and Carrol cast each other a quick, uncertain glance. There was just such a device on the premises. They’d both seen it in passing while on a tour of the compound.
“We won’t make any decisions without consulting you again,” Carrol said.
Mornay said nothing, his silence revealing that he understood the gravity of the situation.
“Good.” Lindsey turned around and walked toward the door.
“Alex,” Mornay spoke up.
He turned and looked back at the snooty character.
“Any word from our mole in the Justice Department?”
Alexander stood thoughtful for a moment, considering the man he’d had thrown from the helicopter earlier that evening. When he spoke, it carried a cryptic tone. “I don’t think we’ll be using him anymore.”
Chapter 16
Atlanta
Tommy and Will had what they needed, though Tommy’s friend had had to die for it. Both men languidly strolled out of the lab and toward the exit when they noticed some kind of movement at the end of the corridor. The other detectives had already left the premises, leaving only two policemen to guard the crime scene, both of whom were nowhere in sight.
“Did you see that?” Tommy spoke just barely above a whisper.
Will nodded and pulled his gun out of its holster. A flash and short pop burst from the dark shadows where they’d seen the motion, pinging a bullet off the wall nearest them. Both men ducked into the alcove of the opposite doorway to take cover.
“Didn’t the police check this whole building for suspects?” Schultz wondered out loud.
“Yeah. They did.” Will leaned around the edge and squeezed off two quick rounds. Two more shots replied from the other end, one shattering a door window behind them. “Whoever killed the professor must have come back for what they were looking for.”
Tommy looked skeptical. “To a fresh crime scene?”
“I’ve seen dumber things done by criminals. It’s the only thing that makes sense here. I guess he figured we’d be less likely to suspect such a move.”
“True. Or maybe the guy never left the building.”
“We’re going to have to change plans, Tommy. My guess is they figure you have what they’re looking for.” He looked at Schultz with a serious eye.
Tommy knew what that meant. They were willing to kill whoever got in their way to get what they wanted. “What’s the move then?”
Will thought quickly. “My car is out back. I’ll lay down a little covering fire while you go. I’ll meet you out there.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Tommy shook his head.
“It wasn’t a question.” He gave a sly grin. “Now go.”
The young cop swung around the corner again on one knee, letting off a series of shots in the direction of their attacker. Simultaneously, Tommy took off toward the door closest to their end. He could hear Will’s weapon laying down a steady barrage of hot metal as he barged through the door and out into the Atlanta night. He kept running until he saw what he believed to be Will’s silver Dodge Charger. Though it was unmarked, he recognized the similarities between that and other more obvious police units.
More muffled shots rang out inside the building. Tommy wasn’t sure what to do. He wished he could help the young officer, but he was unarmed. What if Will was shot? Then the assailant would surely come out the way he had exited a moment ago. He noticed a fairly large rock in the landscaping bed near the front of the car and grabbed it quickly then stepped around the back of the car and ducked behind the trunk.
A few more shots popped, then suddenly the door flew open. Will sprinted from the building as fast as he could. He unlocked the doors with his remote key while slowing to a halt.
Tommy stood up, rock still in hand. “Whew. I’m glad it was you.”
“I think I may have got him.” Will noticed the stone and raised an eyebrow. “What were you gonna do with that?”
The rock dropped to the ground, and Tommy held up his hands to the side. “Not a clue.”
“Get in the car. We better get out of here.” Will jumped in the front seat and gunned the engine.
Tommy slid into the passenger’s side and looked back up at the building as the detective jerked the car backward. “Here we go again.”
Chapter 17
Washington, DC
There was a crisp feel in the air that always seemed to come with late autumn. Eric Jennings took a deep breath of the fresh early air as he strolled along the downtown sidewalk.
It had been an uneventful morning thus far. He’d sat through a few meetings and listened to various reports.
Some of the other agencies had been inquiring about some funding that seemed to be missing from his budget, a fact he promised he would look into. At the same time, Jennings had warned them to monitor their own agencies. What he did with his money was not their concern. How dare they.
Fortunately, the careless agent with the loose lips had been discovered before too much damage could be done. Jennings had questioned using Gary Holstrum from the beginning. He was ambitious and eager yet lacked discipline, something that had been apparent. It seemed, however, the young, pudgy agent had been a little too mouthy about a few things. Thus the ongoing questions arising from the other bureaus. A bump in the road easily fixed.
Agent Holstrum had been unwittingly lured to Las Vegas, told he was being sent to a tech conference going on at the Palazzo. Like pretty much any young go-getter, he didn’t need to be asked twice about an all expenses paid trip to Las Vegas. He’d arrived a few days before, more than likely excited about four days of gambling, drinking, and debauchery in Sin City. What he’d not expected was to be pulled out of his penthouse suite in the middle of the night by two men dressed as bellhops. Their tranquilizers worked quickly. Jennings had suggested them personally when the plan had been orchestrated. After the unconscious Holstrum had been delivered to the Prophet, Jennings didn’t need to
know anything else. Lindsey would handle it how he deemed fit. Though if Jennings had to guess, he’d say the man had probably suffered until the moment of his last breath.
The phone in his left jacket pocket startled him, ringing loudly. He checked the screen then answered. “I trust you enjoyed the package I sent you?” he said into the device.
“Yes, Eric. It won’t be giving us any more trouble.” The voice paused. “Is everything going according to plan?”
Jennings thought for a moment. Lindsey was no fool. By this time, news of the shootout had been posted all over the news, and there was too much carnage to cover up. The press had been fed a story about one man acting alone, firing on federal authorities. The gullible and always hungry press seemed to love it and ran the story, almost without question. Even without all the media attention, Jennings knew Lindsey was probably fully aware of what had happened before anyone else. “We hit a snag,” Jennings said, carefully.
“A snag?” the voice asked.
“We lost several assets. My two points are handling it.” He wondered where Collack and Weaver were at the moment. They’d not reported in yet.
“Yes. I’m aware of the incident in Las Vegas. It’s quite the mess.” He sounded irritated. “I hope I haven’t misplaced my trust in you, Eric.” The line held an unspoken threat.
Jennings understood the statement. Failure was not an option. “It will be handled, sir. I assure you.”
“See to it that these little messes do not become commonplace. We are near the end of the race. It must be finished. Make sure Wyatt is taken care of.”
“It won’t happen again.”
The line was momentarily silent.
Then Jennings added, “There was an unanticipated interruption, sir.”
“Interruption?”
“Two women appeared. One was with Wyatt in his room when our men moved in. We think it was Emily Starks. The other one is an unknown. Apparently, she took out several of our agents.”
“Unknown? Did anyone get a good look at her?”
“We are checking security cameras now, but she could have been disguised. It may be difficult to get an ID.”
“Do you have their location?” Lindsey was sounding more and more annoyed.
“Not yet. We should by noon.”
Alexander’s voice was pensive. “Don’t take them out yet. I want to know what they’re up to and who this mystery woman is. They may be of use to us after all. Then when the time is right...” He trailed off.
“Yes, sir.” The line went dead. Jennings checked the screen and saw that Lindsey had hung up.
Chapter 18
Nevada
Sean awoke and shook his head. He was lying in a room with walls made of solid wood planks. The bed was soft, softer than most he’d slept in. He leaned over to a nightstand and checked his phone to see what time it was then swung around the edge of the bed and walked over to the window overlooking the jagged mountains to the north. A quick inspection of the small guest closet revealed a plush white robe that extended down to the knees. There was a slight chill in the air so he decided to help himself and slipped into the cozy garment.
The interior of the mountaintop chalet was much larger than the exterior belied. It was a narrow building, probably thirty to forty feet wide. Counting the garage, there were three floors; two of them housed the living quarters. The layout was unique. He’d learned as much by way of a quick tour from their host the previous night. A great room opened up into the kitchen and dining room with hardly any dividing walls whatsoever. On the first floor a master bedroom and an office area took up some of the space along with a porch that opened up on the side of the house and wrapped around to the front, overlooking the basin and the far-off city below. In the living room, enormous windows displayed the breathtaking desert view. Upstairs on the second floor were two guest rooms, another master bedroom and bathroom, and an outdoor patio that faced the other direction into the mountains and beyond to the north. The furnishings were simple but modern, an eclectic mix of black leathers, dark frames, and brightly colored draperies, photos, and artwork.
Sean walked downstairs and slowly into the living room as the sun was peeking over the mountains to the east. The smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air. His host sat comfortably in a deep leather sofa near the window in a terry cloth robe identical to the one he was sporting. She held a large coffee cup in her hand.
“I see you made yourself at home,” she said, her Spanish accent sounding extra thick in the morning.
He looked down at the robe and spread out his arms as if showing it off. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.” He ran both hands down the sides of it, feeling the supple texture again then added, “This thing is really soft.”
“They are better than the ones that were given to you at the hotel, yes?” A smile told him she appreciated the compliment.
“Definitely,” he returned the grin.
“Would you like some coffee? I have it brought in from one of my family’s estates in Guatemala.”
“You have a coffee farm in Guatemala? Didn’t look like a coffee farmer the way you handled yourself last night.”
She stood up and eased past him, leaving a fresh scent of perfume dancing around his nostrils.
“I’m not a coffee farmer, Señor Wyatt,” she replied while she set down her own cup and filled another identical one nearby from a steaming steel pot. “Cream and sugar?”
He nodded and smiled. “I’ll take mine how you take yours, por favor.”
The Spanish caught her off guard slightly, and she cast him a playful glance out of the corner of her eye. “Well, I take mine with milk and a little sugar. Will that be OK?”
“Sounds perfect.”
She mixed the concoction and handed it to him, which he accepted graciously then proceeded to follow her back to the sitting area. They sat down across from each other, he in a matching one-seater.
“Is your friend still sleeping?”
“Probably,” he said as he took a long sip of the aromatic coffee.
There was a moment of awkward silence. He lowered the cup from his mouth and made a gesture with it. “This is really good.”
“Gracias,” she nodded to him.
“So,” Sean changed the subject, “you obviously know about me. But I know absolutely nothing about you. What’s your story?”
She laughed slightly at the question. “There isn’t much to know.”
He took another big sip of the creamy brown liquid. “Mentirosa.”
The Spanish word surprised her, and a snort escaped her nose in mid-sip, causing her to nearly spill her coffee. “I am not a liar, Mr. Wyatt.”
“Please, call me Sean.”
“Very well, Sean,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “I was born in a small town about thirty minutes outside of Madrid. My father was involved in many different business ventures. His affairs led him to be out of town much of the time. Eventually, my mother became very ill. When she died, my father was crushed. We grew very close for the months after her death.” She paused and took a deep breath. The pain was still very close to her heart. “My father is a tremendous inspiration for me. He always treated me like his princess. When I went a way to university, he would call every week to talk to me and ask how I was doing.” There was a slight tone of regret in her voice.
“So you left home to go to school?”
She nodded. “As much as I loved my father, I had to leave. Business was starting to take him away again, and the pain was too much to bear without Mother around.”
Sean understood. He felt lucky he’d been able to keep his family around as long as he had.
“I feel like because he spent so much of his life working to give his family a better future, he missed out on so many things that the world has to offer.”
Wyatt felt like saying something, but he held back. Instead, he tried to lighten the mood. “If your other adventures were anything like what happened last night, I’d say it’s probabl
y best that you leave him at home.” Sean grinned wide.
“Perhaps,” she laughed a little. She changed subjects. “After I graduated from university, I started working a little here and there with some small-scale antique collectors from Europe and Asia. At first, I just did it because I needed the work. Then one day I was checking my bank account, and I saw something very strange.”
“Lot of money missing?”
She shook her head. “The opposite. Someone had made an enormous deposit into my account. I felt certain there had been a mistake, but I was assured that the balance was correct. I can only assume my father must have put the money there. But he never said why. So I used that money to do what I loved. I traveled the world, searching for antiquities on my own. I became what you Americans would call a treasure hunter. But I don’t do it for the money. I do it because I love history. Nothing beats that feeling you get when you find something that hasn’t been seen or touched for hundreds or thousands of years. It is like nothing else.”
“What do you do with the artifacts when you find them?” he asked, curious.
“I keep them in my collection,” she answered.
“You don’t feel like they should go to a museum or to a government?”
“No,” was all she said with a cryptic smile.
Sean caught himself staring at her. The lightly tanned skin, the deep brown eyes, every physical feature was only enhanced by the fact that she was extremely learned and interested in ancient history.
“Got an extra cup of that coffee?” Emily’s voice startled the two of them.
“Of course,” Adriana said, momentarily caught off guard. She stood and walked back to the coffee maker and poured another cupful.
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