Black Gold Deception

by Jess Walker

  Lawrence let out a long whistle.

  “That’s a long way down.”

  “And it’s one hell of a good trap whether it was intended to be one or not,” Dexter said.

  “It looks like the boards were once used as a makeshift bridge to cross the shaft. Over time, with wear and tear and the help of Mother Nature, the wood rotted out, and I was the unlucky son-of-a-bitch to walk across it,” he laughed. “It nearly got me.”

  “If it almost got you, what about our friends behind us? Who’s to say it won’t get them?” Dexter asked.

  “Of course,” Lawrence said. “You just gave me an idea.”

  Lawrence set off and returned minutes later with a canvas tarp, an item he had noticed further back. The gaping hole of the vertical shaft had a tiny ledge adjoined to the wall on either side. Gingerly sidestepping across the ledge with his back pressed against the wall, he reached the other side. Some of the original floorboards remained intact. He repositioned the unbroken floorboards across the diameter of the shaft. When he was done, he placed the tarp overtop and secured it in place with a few heavy rocks at either end.

  “Collect some loose dirt and rock and spread it over the tarp and hurry,” Lawrence instructed. They covered the tarp with a thin layer of rock and dirt to conceal it from view.

  “I think we covered most of it. It looks like solid ground to me,” Dexter said.

  “I agree. You’d need a magnifying glass to see the tarp and the giant hole underneath,” Lawrence replied.

  Dexter turned away from Lawrence. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” asked Lawrence.

  “There, right there.”

  Lawrence strained to listen. “If I’m not mistaken, it sounds like our doggy friends are back,” Lawrence replied.

  The trace sounds of yelping started as a faint whisper but grew louder until it could clearly be heard. There was no denying it! The dogs were back on their trail.

  “We better get going,” Lawrence hissed. “Trouble is on its way.”

  They moved quickly along the winding contour of the shaft as they kept a careful eye out for any more hidden surprises.

  An hour earlier…

  The two dog handlers converged at the mining entrance. Drawing their rifles, the dog handlers walked to within a couple feet of it, noting it was blocked by a metal gate. The blond tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. The bald guy saw the blockage: a metal bar wedged inside the interior of the gate. He removed his sidearm and shot at it. The bar fractured in two, and the gate swung open, allowing the men to barge inside with their rifles up. Kicking up a trail of dust, the dogs ran ahead. The two men turned on their mag-lights and followed the dogs, oblivious to the steep decline ahead. Their run came to an abrupt stop when the sudden drop took them by surprise. The two men plummeted down the shaft, somersaulting and tumbling until they were spit out through the loose grate at the bottom.

  The blond took the brunt of the fall. He landed headfirst on the mound of rocks at the bottom, splitting his head wide open. The bald guy landed on top of him, which helped to break his fall. He pulled his comrade down with him to avoid the falling rocks shooting out of the vent. At the bottom, the bald guy rolled his partner over. His body remained limp and unmoving. Bits of brain leaked out of his head like engine coolant. He was dead.

  If he had any remorse, little was shown. He eyed his fallen comrade with a look of indifference. He got to his feet and strode off to find the two dogs who were going berserk in front of another metal gate. He tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. A cable wire was wrapped around the door and frame. He unraveled it, and then tried the gate again. It opened. The dogs bolted away as soon as the gate opened, disappearing down the shaft into the darkness. With his mag-light pointed ahead, the man ran after them.

  Ten minutes later, the sound of the barking dogs stopped. The only sound that remained came from the man’s own breathing and footsteps shuffling along the rock covered ground. Puzzled, he wondered if the dogs had met their own end. They must have, or they would have answered his call.

  “It’s quiet, too quiet,” Lawrence said. “I don’t hear the dogs anymore.”

  “Do you think they fell down the shaft?” Dexter asked.

  “For our sakes, I hope so.”

  Both men stood still, straining to hear the dogs, but they heard nothing. Instead, they detected a different sound. It made the hair on the back of their necks stand straight up: the sound of racing footsteps.

  “I think we got rid of the dogs, but not our friends,” Dexter sputtered.

  “I think you’re right,” Lawrence sighed.

  Lawrence contemplated their next move. An idea surfaced in his mind. It came down to timing and execution. Lawrence turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Follow me.”

  “Where are you going? We should be going the other way!” Dexter cried.

  “Trust me,” Lawrence muttered.

  “It has nothing to do with mine-sledding does it?” Dexter asked.

  “No, afraid not. Think more in the context of the rodeo. We have ourselves some bulls to snag.”

  Twenty yards ahead, Lawrence stopped and handed the torch to Dexter. He stood in an area of the shaft that had two receding walls that faced each other. An abandoned spool of cable cord lay on the ground a couple feet away. Picking it up, he unwound it until he had ten feet of cable, then took out his knife and cut it. He laid it on the ground across the width of the shaft.

  “Help me cover it with some dirt and rock,” he said.

  A faint glow of bobbing light bounced off the shaft walls like a flickering candle.

  “Get behind the wall and hold onto the cable!” Lawrence hissed. “When I give the signal, I want you to yank it tight. I’ll be on the other side pulling it at the same time.”

  “Got it,” Dexter replied.

  Hunching into a concealed position behind the wall, Lawrence wrapped the cable around his hand. Dexter did the same.

  Lawrence took out his Glock and snapped the safety off. He mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen next. He stomped on the end of the torch to extinguish the flame.

  Twenty seconds later, a solo shadow of a man appeared, rounding the corner at a light jog. He drew closer and closer until he was only five feet away.

  “Now!” Lawrence whispered.

  The cable was yanked tight. It rose a foot above the ground, and the man didn’t see it until it was too late. He tripped over the cord. His forward momentum projected him through the air like a football spiraling out of control, until he landed in a heap of dust. The fall kept him down only momentarily. In a split second, he sprang back to his feet and lifted his gun to take aim.

  Lawrence was two steps ahead of him. Emerging from the shadows, he aimed the Glock at his chest and squeezed the trigger, firing three quick shots. Each bullet found its mark. As fast as the man had been, he wasn’t quick enough. The man had only managed to draw his rifle a quarter of the way up before he was shot down.

  The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. Lawrence stared at the man who lay on his back, unmoving, in the middle of the shaft. He looked like he was dead.

  Lawrence bent over and checked for a pulse.

  His heart went into his throat when the whites of the man’s eyes flashed open and met his. They were filled with pure rage, unblinking and staring at him. The man had come prepared; he wore a bulletproof vest. The bullets remained encased in the protective membrane of the vest.

  Before Lawrence could repel himself backwards, the man grabbed him. His hands snaked upwards, clamping around his neck in a vice grip. A crooked smile crossed the man’s face as he tried to crush Lawrence’s windpipe. Seeing stars as his vision began to black out, Lawrence punched his assailant in the head several times before kneeing him in the crotch. The effect w
as instantaneous. The man let go. A high pitch moan echoed off the shaft walls as he clutched at his groin.

  Free from his grasp, Lawrence rolled away. A flash of light caught his eye followed by a whooshing sound of air rushing past him. It came from an old pickaxe. The rusted metal of the axe glinted off the faint glow of light before impaling the man’s chest, curving up and under his Kevlar vest. The rusted point of the axe sunk deep into his heart, killing him instantly.

  Dexter let go of the pickaxe. Falling to his knees, he threw up, retching until his stomach was empty. Trembling, he leaned back and wiped the splatters of blood off his face.

  “I didn’t know you had it in you,” Lawrence coughed, breathing in giant gulps of air.

  Dexter stared into the empty space ahead of him with a look of confusion and stunned panic. “I guess I got it in me, wouldn’t you say?”

  They both got to their feet and set off again, continuing down the shaft and navigating their way around a few bends and curves until a faint light surfaced at the far end of the tunnel.

  “Is that what I think it is!” Dexter blurted.

  Lawrence replied, “We’ve just found our exit out of here.”

  The light grew brighter and bigger as they approached. Streams of daylight poked through the interior of the shaft. It was a welcomed sight. Dexter tried to run ahead, but Lawrence pulled him back.

  “Not so fast, cowboy. We don’t know if there’s a welcoming party on the other side waiting for us. Follow me and keep low to the ground.”

  They crept outside. The sunlight blinded them as they fought to adjust their eyes to the sudden brightness, squinting to see. A large boulder lay five yards ahead. They ran to it and hid behind it. Lawrence scanned the area around them to make sure they weren’t being followed. Five minutes later, he stood up and motioned for Dexter to follow. As they began their descent, Lawrence couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Say again,” Bubba spat over the radio.

  “We got eyes on them. They just exited the mine.” Leo’s voice came through the earpiece, crackling with static.

  Bubba could imagine their prey coming into the light, completely unaware of their pursuers. He desperately wanted to be there to witness their capture.

  The receiver blipped, alerting Bubba to Leo who was waiting. “You there, Sir? How should we proceed?”

  Bubba’s mind was churning. He carefully weighed his next steps. It would be easy to apprehend them now, to take them down while they had a chance. But he wanted to get in on the action. He wanted to be there for it, see the looks on their faces when he caught them.

  “Keep eyes on them but wait till I give you the green light.”

  “Sir, we can take them down now.”

  “Negative. Wait it out. These are slippery little bastards. I don’t want them to slip through our fingers again. We’re going to set up a trap. Wait for them to come to us.”

  Leo replied, “Copy that, over.”

  Bubba sat in the back of the white Escalade. His two security guys, Ivan and Ilya, sat in the front. They were driving down a side road bordering the western edge of the mountain. He took out his mobile to look at Sergei’s and Leo’s location. Their GPS coordinates indicated they were on the eastern side of the mountain, and if they continued to go straight, they would intersect a country road.

  He handed over his mobile with the map coordinates to Sunglasses.

  “Enter it into the vehicle’s navigation system.”

  Ivan entered the coordinates and a map popped up on the screen.

  Bubba leaned between the two front seats and stared at the map.

  “That is the road we want to get on,” he said, jabbing his index finger at the map.

  Ivan gave him a curt nod.

  “According to the map, we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Ilya did a U-turn and sped down the road in the opposite direction.

  Leo sat fuming as he stared down the mountain at his two targets that looked prime for the picking. He wanted to take them down. He wanted to do it now, but being a good soldier, he had to follow his orders.

  Sergei tapped his shoulder. “They’re on the move.”

  The men got up and trailed their targets down the mountain. Thirty minutes later, Leo’s earpiece sparked up again. It was Bubba.

  “There is a country road they will hit at the base of the mountain. We’re on it right now. There is a farmhouse on that same road they’re likely to come across. Its location can be seen from miles away because of the smoke drifting up from its chimney. If they’re smart men, and I’m sure they are, they’ll head to that house. When they get to there, we’ll be waiting for them—the trap will be set. Tail them to the farmhouse, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

  Leo paused before he spoke. “Sir, we don’t need to do that. We can take them down now. Why take a chance? There are too many what ifs. We have the sure thing. It’s one hundred yards in front of us right.”

  “Negative,” Bubba fired back.

  Leo knew there was no arguing with Bubba. He’d already made up his mind. The plan seemed unnecessary and elaborate. From his own experience in the field, he knew that a successfully executed plan was usually the simplest plan. The fewer working parts you had to contend with, the less chance you’d have to screw up. Less is more; less is better. When you’re deep in the crap, keeping things simple increases your odds of coming out on top.

  “Copy that, over,” Leo hissed.

  They made it in under seven minutes. The SUV pulled into a long driveway that disappeared over a hill. A trail of smoke drifted above the hilltop where the farm sat. X marks the spot.

  CHAPTER 14

  November 5, Early Morning—Porcupine Mountain…

  The mineshaft had taken them across the interior of the mountain to the other side, effectively bypassing the mountaintop. Lawrence scanned the landscape below. He saw a sea of rolling green foothills dotted with forests and fenced farmland for as far as the eye could see. A dirt road, which looked more like a strand of boiled spaghetti, intersected the plush landscape. Farms popped up along the road. Each one was set a half-mile back, surrounded by acres of working farmland.

  “Are those farms down there?” Dexter asked.

  “Yes,” Lawrence replied. “They should have a working phone available and if not, I’d bet a mode of transportation.”

  Dexter’s eyes lit up at the possibility of getting to help.

  They navigated their way down the mountain, soon merging onto a well-traveled footpath which they followed until the view of the road and of the farmhouses disappeared below the tree line. Instead of being out in the open, they found themselves on flat ground, surrounded by trees and brush so thick, it swallowed them up.

  “You do know where we’re going? Right?” Dexter asked anxiously.

  “See the plumes of smoke hovering in the sky a fair distance away?” Lawrence asked.

  “Yes, so?” Dexter replied.

  “Well, that smoke belongs to some farmhouse. I bet they still rely on wood burning stoves for heat. Luckily, on a day like today when there’s no wind, the smoke churning up in the sky should stay close to its source. If we follow the smoke, it should take us there. You follow my logic?” Lawrence asked.

  “Loud and clear. I just hope our Russian friends don’t have a campfire going. I’d hate to land in unannounced.”

  Lawrence looked amused.

  “Look on the bright side. Before they beat us to a pulp and feed us to the wolves, they might share their marshmallows and wieners with us.”

  “And we’ll have a sing-along with them, too,” Dexter chuckled.

  Working their way cautiously through the forest, they eventually came to a road. Lawrence eyed it nervously, weighing their next move.

  “We
could walk alongside the road under the cover of the woods, but that’ll take too long. Let’s take a chance and walk on the road. The minute we hear a vehicle coming, we’ll hide in the ditch.”

  “It could be our Russian friends out for a Sunday drive,” replied Dexter.

  They exited from behind the cover of the trees and scurried up the side of the ditch onto the narrow dirt road. Looking in both directions to make sure it was clear before they made their way toward the smoke, they half-jogged, half-walked the rest of the way. The winding tree-lined road eventually broke into a clearing with a straight stretch of road that intersected miles of rolling hills and fields. An old pine-beam fence ran parallel to the road on either side of them. Horses grazed lazily in the fields around them. From time to time, Lawrence glanced over his shoulder, paranoid that a vehicle was approaching from behind. Soon his paranoia came to be reality. A faint rumbling sound resonated in the distance.

  “Sounds like a vehicle.”

  “Where’s it coming from?” Dexter asked

  “Hard to tell, I think it’s coming from behind us.”

  Both men scrambled down the side of the ditch, pressing their bodies against the contours of the bank hidden under the waist-high weeds. The throaty purr of an engine and crunching tires spinning across the loose gravel sounded like a truck. The vehicle grew louder until it was directly overhead. It maintained its speed down the dirt road and didn’t slow. The noise diminished to a light rumble as the truck rounded a hill and dipped below it.

  “Something tells me we’re not home free yet. Danger seems to be following us,” mumbled Lawrence.

  “That was close, too close,” Dexter said, climbing out of the ditch.

  Lawrence glanced down the road where the truck had just disappeared. “Let’s keep on going—the house can’t be much further.”

  They climbed back onto the road.

  Lawrence said, “Let’s keep on going—the house can’t be much further.”