The Secret of the Stones (32 page)

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Authors: Ernest Dempsey

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Financial, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Political, #Thrillers, #Pulp

BOOK: The Secret of the Stones
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His
gaze stopped on one of the colored windows.
 
There was something different, inside the windows.

The
sexton seemed content to simply stand by and help answer any questions the
strangers had.
 
Clearly, he was
bored with his job.
 

Tommy
obliged him.
 
“I do have another
question to ask you.
 
These rows of
stained-glass windows on the walls, where did they come from?”

“Ahh.
 
I believe they were made somewhere in
Spain.
 
A very specialized
glassworks company created them and they were shipped over here.
 
It must have been a difficult thing to
communicate back and forth with a company so far away about the specifications
of the windows needed for the church.”

As
interesting as Tommy found the history of the windows, he was more concerned
with the oddity in their appearance.
 
“What I was really curious about was the white pieces of glass that seem
to dot each window.
 
Are they just
there to throw in contrast with the dark colors or is there another reason for
them?”

The
old man smiled.
 
“I’m so glad you
asked.
 
You see,” he explained,
“those white pieces of glass are actually a tribute to one of the most
revolutionary forms of communication ever developed.”

Tommy
and the other three stood waiting for clarification.

“The
white dots of round glass inserted in the windows are actually Morse
code.”
 

“So
the clue is in the windows.”
 
Tommy
spoke a little louder than he’d intended.

The
statement took the church worker off guard.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
Clue?
 
What clue?”

He
was given no answer.
 
Instead,
Ulrich began examining the windows as well, in an attempt to figure out what it
all meant.
 
The effort was short
lived and futile, though.
 

“What
does it mean?
 
How do you know
where to begin?” Tommy asked.

A
curious look came on the wrinkled face.
 
“I’m not sure what you’re so frantic about.
 
It’s just a Bible verse.
 
It begins on that window, over there,” he pointed to a
window in the top of the front right corner of the sanctuary, “and reads all
the way around, down to the next level, then finishes over there in the back.”

Ulrich
looked as if he’d just won the lottery.
 
“The Bible verse, what does it say?” He demanded.

“It’s
just a text from Genesis.
 
Many
people around here know about it.
 
Not like it’s a secret.”

More
impatient now, Ulrich insisted, “Yes, but what does it say?”

The
man appeared thrown off by the sudden change in temperament, but he replied,
anyway.
 
“It’s from Genesis 8, all
taken from verses 7, 8 and 20.”

“Show
me.”

The
sexton raised his arm and pointed at a large Bible sitting on a stand directly
below a raised baptismal pool.
 
“Here, take a look.”
 
He
shuffled over to the gargantuan book and flipped a few chunks of pages, then,
one by one until he found the right spot.

“See,
have a look.”

Ulrich
and Tommy stepped up to the podium that held the huge book.
 

Verse
7:
 
And he sent forth a raven,
which went forth to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the
earth.
 
Verse 8:
 
Also, he sent forth a dove from him, to
see if the waters were abated from off the face of the ground. Verse 20:
 
Then Noah built an altar to the Lord.
 

“What
is this?
 
The Raven and Dove?
 
What is that supposed to mean?”

Confused,
the elderly man replied matter-of-factly, “Well, um, it is a kind of motto for
this church, sir.”

Ulrich
was incredulous.
 
“What do you mean
a motto?
 
What kind of motto is
this for anything?”

“Well,”
he was stuttering at this point, unsure about why it mattered so much to this
foreign visitor.
 
“Our church is
called the Beacon Tabernacle.
 
A
beacon is a type of guide, in a manner of speaking.
 
So, the designers of the building thought it appropriate to
use this verse because the raven and the dove were used to guide Noah to dry
land.”

“That’s
it?”
 
Ulrich stepped over to the
old sexton and grabbed him by the shirt and tie and lifted him with both arms,
pressing him against the wall beneath the baptism.
 
“Answer me, old man.
 
Is that all you know?”
 

A
look of innocent fear swept across the sexton’s face replacing the confusion
that had been there.
 
His voice
scratched as a result of the fists cutting off his breath just below the
neck.
 
“I…don’t…know what you…want
me to tell…you.
 
The church
represents the altar that Noah built.
 
What else do you want to know?”

Strong
hands clenched tighter around the man’s thin neck and the pale, wrinkled skin
began turning a slight reddish-purple color.

“What
are you doing?
 
You’re hurting
him!” Tommy yelled, but was restrained by the strong grips of the guards.

Ulrich
turned as if to say, “I don’t care,” when suddenly, another familiar voice
filled the sanctuary.

“Put
him down!”

Both
of the guards looked instinctively over to an open doorway where a man with
hair that almost matched his dark khaki pants stood holding a pistol in the
direction of their boss.

Turning
his head toward where the voice had come from, Ulrich glared at the new threat
that dared interrupt his interrogation.
 
At first, his eyes went immediately to the drawn weapon in the man’s
hands, aimed squarely at him.
 
After a moment, though, he focused on the person holding the gun.

Sean
Wyatt had caught up to them.
 
Again.

Chapter
48

Southeastern
Tennessee

 

For
a long moment, everyone stood frozen in a stalemate.
 
Ulrich and Wyatt glared at each other as if waiting to see
who would make the first move.
 
Even though it must have only been half a minute, it felt like an
eternity.
  

Sean
wasn’t willing to risk a shot, afraid the old man might get hurt.
 
 

The
two guards stood at the ready, each holding Tommy tightly, also making them
difficult targets.
 

“So,
Mr. Wyatt,” Ulrich broke the silence.  “You just won’t seem to go
away.”
 
Then in one quick, fluid
motion he grabbed the sexton and jerked him around like a rag doll,
clenching the old man around the neck with his arm.
 

“Most
people think of it as an endearing trait.”
 
Sean kept the gun trained on the blonde assailant.

Ulrich
snickered, “Hardly the time for joking.”
 
With another swift movement, he’d pulled his own pistol out and pressed
it hard against the side of the old man’s head.
 

Though
Sean had surprised the group, he was at a major disadvantage.
 
He could see Joe and Allyson crawling
behind the cover of one of the church pews on the other side of the sanctuary.
 
That evened the numbers a little, but
now the bad guys had two hostages and the risk of hitting one of them was too
high at the moment.

“So
tell me, Sean.
 
How did you find us
here?”
 
Ulrich was talking again.

“It
was dumb luck really,” Sean edged slowly behind the nearest church pew.
 
He didn’t want to be a completely
exposed target.
 
“That park ranger
you killed left a message on his cell phone that said, “Beacon.”
 
After leaving the museum, I did a quick
search on the navigation system in the car.
 
The only thing within twenty miles with the word “beacon” in
it was this church.
 
I figured it
was worth a shot.”
 

“How
fortuitous.”

Ulrich
leveled the pistol with a quick snap of his wrist and fired off two
quick volleys that erupted into splinters in the pew right in front of
Wyatt.
 
The quick action by
the blonde man had sent Sean sprawling to the floor below the bench seat.
 
Another shot sounded from somewhere
else, as a bullet thudded into the wood above his head.
 
One of the guards must have started
firing.
 

On
his elbows and knees, Sean scurried across the carpet to the end of the
row.
 
Leading with his gun, he
peeked around the corner of the bench end and saw that the larger guard was
holding Tommy while the shorter held his weapon at the ready, looking to the
end of the pew where he’d just fired.
 

Across
the aisle, Joe and Allyson were crouched in a similar position.
 
Sean gave a quick motion of the hand
for his companions to give some cover fire.

Allyson
acknowledged the request and surprised the two suits with a volley of her own,
careful not to hit the hostages.  Her rounds narrowly missed
the stocky attacker.
 

Joe
was a good shot with long ranged weapons, as evidenced by his success as a big
game hunter.
 
But smaller weapons
were a whole different animal and bullets wildly splashed around the feet of
the three men on the stage, a few pinging off the metal of the pipes behind
them.
 

Allyson
gave him a stern look as she pulled him back below the pew.  “Why don’t
you let me handle this?”
 
 

“Probably
a good idea.”

Ulrich
and the guard both turned their attention to where the new shots had
originated.

“I
see you brought some friends, Mr. Wyatt.”
 
Ulrich launched another bullet towards their position.

As
poor as Joe’s aim was, the distraction was exactly what Sean had needed.
 
Both enemies appeared confused as to
which area to concentrate their aim.
 

Sean
rounded the corner of the pew again, kneeling as he squeezed off three quick
bursts of his own.
 
One bullet
harmlessly lodged into the his target’s Kevlar vest, another completely missed,
but the third found its way into the thick upper thigh.
 

Suddenly
in pain and bleeding, the henchman dropped to the ground, momentarily letting
his gun drop at his side.
 

From
his position, Ulrich couldn’t see anyone so he sent four shots
in both directions pinning Allyson and Sean under the cover of
the church benches.  The pungent smell of gunpowder lingered with the
misty smoke that was beginning to fill the air.
 

The
shorter guard was still on one knee and trying to stand as blood oozed from the
wound in his leg.
 
He lifted his
weapon slowly, hoping to return fire if Wyatt popped out again.

Instead
of poking around the edge of the seat, Sean slid underneath it and took a
quick aim, only pulling the trigger once.
 

The
guard noticed Wyatt’s new position too late.  For a second, the stump of a
man had a surprised look on his face.
 
His eyes stared forward, blankly.
 
Then the black hole in his forehead began trickling red liquid down his
nose seconds before he fell forward and down the steps.

Ulrich’s
head turned toward the dead body of his associate as it rolled to a stop at the
base of the stage.
 
He pointed the
barrel at where the mortal shot had come from and unleashed another quick
succession of rounds.
 

The
larger guard who had previously been occupied with Tommy was forced to join the
fray.
 
With an almost superhuman
strength, the bulky man seized Tommy with one hand and fired his weapon with
the other.
 
His .45 caliber
resonated louder than everyone else’s, thundering explosions off the walls as
he fired.

With
one bad guy down the fight was a little more even, but the hostages still made
things dicey.
 
“Just let the men
go, Jurgenson or whoever you are!”
 
Sean yelled from behind the church pew.
 
“It’s over!
 
The
police are on their way here right now!  And you don’t have many more
bullets left in that gun.”
  

“I
don’t believe you would call the police, Sean.
 
Besides, you are the one they are looking for.”
 
As he answered, his eyes checked out
two closed doors with an exit sign over them about twenty feet away.
 
The guard looked over and noticed
Ulrich had motioned with his head to follow out the exit.
 

The
big man nodded his silent acknowledgement and popped off two quick shots at
both Allyson’s and Sean’s hiding place.
 
Then immediately, he dragged Tommy by the neck across the stage and down
the steps, right behind the tall blonde.

“What
do we do?” Joe mouthed across the aisle.

“I
don’t know,” Sean replied.
 
“I
can’t get a clean shot.”

Allyson
shook her head.
 
She had no angle
either.

Suddenly,
a muffled shot came from somewhere else in the building.
 
It sounded like the front corner of the
sanctuary.
 

Sean
risked a look over top of the pew he’d been hiding behind and saw the empty
stage.
 
His stomach turned at the
realization.

Rising
up from his cover, he scanned the corners and crevices of the church, keeping
his gun leveled.
 
They were
gone.
 

Allyson
stood too, mimicking Sean’s position.
 
“Where did they go?”

Through
the ghostlike smoke, Sean noticed the doors at the front of the
sanctuary.
 

They sprinted
toward the exit, stopping short to risk a peek in a small square window at the
top of the thick wood.
 
Through the
opening, Wyatt could see a small ante-chamber on the other side.
 
There was a short bench, a water
fountain, a flowery-upholstered couch, and two legs with black shoes sticking
out from around a corner.
 

Sean
pushed open the door, leading the way with his gun.
 
He rounded the corner of the small room and found the sexton
lying on the floor.
 
The chest of
the man’s white button-up shirt was beginning to soak with blood.
 
Just beyond where he lay, the short
hall ended abruptly with two more doors leading outside into the parking lot.

Joe
took a knee next to Sean who was crouching over the old man.
 
Allyson ran over to the outer doors,
holding her weapon next to her face while she peeked out the window.

“You…must
not…let them find the chamber,” the sexton gasped.

“Just
hang on there, old timer,” Joe replied.
 
“You’re gonna be just fine.”

Allyson
was grabbing her cell phone to call 9-1-1.

The old
man kept talking, “We have kept the secret long enough.”
 
His body wracked with a cough and a
small trickle of blood seeped from the corner of this mouth.
 
“They are too close now.
 
You must…go to where the raven and the
dove meet.
 
Do not…let them
succeed.”

Allyson
was talking on her cell.
 
“Yeah, we
have a man with a gunshot wound at the Beacon Tabernacle Church.
 
Send an ambulance right away.
 
He’s in the front of the building in a
room off near the stage entrance.
 
Address?
 
I don’t know the
address.
 
Just hurry.”
 
She ended her call and rejoined the
group.

“Where
the raven and the dove meet,” the old man continued.
 
“That is where you will find it.
 
The first chamber…it…” his eyes became wide with fear and he
gripped Sean‘s arms tightly.
 
“You
must not allow them to find the next stone.”

“But
where is it?
 
Where is the stone?”

“The
raven… and the dove face each other.
 
Let their stones guide you…they meet in the middle.
 
The altar…you must find the…key. 
Climb the stairs...of heaven.”

With
that, the man’s head went limp and his eyes closed.
 
Joe laid the gray head down gently on the floor.
 
“Poor old guy.”

“He’s
not dead,” Sean pointed at the bony chest, slowly rising and falling.
 
“Just unconscious.
 
There’s nothing we can do for him
now.
 
Cops should be here
soon.
 
If we don’t get out of here
now, we may never catch those guys.”

“We
can’t just leave him here, Sean.”
 

“Allyson
called an ambulance.
 
They
will arrive any minute.
 
If the
police get here before we’re gone, we will get arrested and have no chance of
saving Tommy.”

Joe
seemed to consider it for a second.

“Look,
Mac.
 
You heard what the man
said.
 
He wants us to find the
chamber.
 
We have to go.”

Nodding,
Sean’s friend stood up, a look of resolve on his face.
 
“Let’s go get ‘em then.”

“Right.”
 

The
two men darted to the door with Allyson right behind.
 
Sean eased open the heavy portal
carefully.
 
The asphalt was empty
except for the beat up Silverado and what they assumed to be the sexton’s
car.
 

Once
again, the men who’d abducted Tommy had slipped through their fingers.
 

“Got
any idea where they went?” Allyson asked as she put away her gun.

“Yeah,
I do now.”

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