The Secret of the Stones (33 page)

Chapter
49

Nevada

A
handful of afternoon guests sat busily on the veranda of the palatial
mansion.
 
They chatted about
business investments, the economy, and the various properties they had acquired
or sold in recent weeks.
 

Hardly
a hot dog and beer crowd, most sipped on rare scotch, top-shelf vodka, and
well-aged whiskey.
 
Smoke from a
few cigars wisped around, spiraling up and into the open air of dusk.
 

The
host of the party stood near the outdoor bar sipping on a glass of 12-year
Jameson Irish Whisky.
 
It wasn’t
the most expensive of drinks, but it was by far his favorite.
 
Smooth and warm, it was his regular
drink of choice.

He
had been conversing with his colleagues about the various aforementioned
topics, but something was keeping him on edge.
 
In fact, he’d probably had a few drinks too many, and the
one in his hand wasn’t going down slowly either.
 

It
had been a few hours since he had heard anything from his contacts and the
anticipation was driving him mad.
 

For
ten years he had searched for something that would help him find the trail to
the golden chambers.
 
A decade of
frustration and disappointment had almost caused him to give up hope.
 

Then,
from the ashes rose the most random of opportunities.
 
An archaeologist in Georgia discovered the first stone, the
beginning of the trail leading to the golden chambers.
 

He’d
met with the man several weeks before and discussed a financial proposal so he
could purchase the piece.
 
Thomas
Schultz had hardly been accommodating.
 
Whether it was foolish pride or haughty defiance, he had been unwilling
to part with the object.
 

The
man had made a second offer, an astounding amount of money even for someone
with the means of wealth that Schultz possessed, and still, the proposal was
denied.

So
he left Schultz’s office empty handed and angry.
 
He had worked too hard and spent too much time and capital
to be denied by some insolent archaeologist.
 

Indeed,
Schultz probably did not even realize the entire story behind the golden
chambers.
 
There were only a few on
the planet that knew the beginning part of the legend.
 
But the end, that was what the old man
was truly interested in.
 
The gold
itself was but a small portion of the true reward that waited at the end.
 

Most
of his guests didn’t even notice him slip away when the cell phone in his
smoking jacket began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Ulrich
is out of control, sir.
 
He is
leaving a blood trail in his wake, and I fear his recklessness is drawing too
much attention.
 
I recommend you
let us intervene.”
 
The voice of
the woman on the other end was concise and direct.

The
old man twisted his head around in both directions to make certain no one was
listening.
 
“Where is he now?”

“On
the interstate, headed south, I’m not sure where they are going, though.”

He
pondered the situation.
 
Ulrich had
become sloppy.
 
Then again, he knew
this would happen.
 
He would never
invest so much without doing his research first.
 
The blonde contractor had served his purpose thus far.
 
“Continue following them.
 
Watch the situation closely.
 
If it gets out of hand, you know what
to do.”

“Sir,
I highly advise…”

“I
know what you advise,” he cut her off, “but they are up to something.
 
Follow them and see what it is.”

He
paused for a moment before adding, “Are the other players still in the game?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Good.
 
Let them continue on as well.
 
They may still be useful after all if
Ulrich becomes more of a nuisance.”

“Anything
else, sir?”

“No.
 
Keep me updated.”

“Of
course.”

He
ended the call and slid it back into his pocket.
 
For a few seconds, he stood by a stone pedestal that
supported a bronze urn.
 
Things
were going well, almost exactly as planned.

A
new guest arrived through the side door of the adjacent room, and he decided it
was time to go back to being sociable.
 
With a big swig, he finished off his whiskey and headed back into the
gathering.

For
the moment, the pawns had to play the game by themselves.

Chapter
50

Southeastern
Tennessee

“Why
did you shoot that old man?
 
Are
you crazy?”
 
Tommy yelled at Ulrich
who swerved the giant SUV through the country roads toward the interstate
highway.
 

The
large guard sat in the back with the angry prisoner.

Tommy
continued the tirade, “He didn’t do anything!
 
And you killed him!”
 
He started to reach an arm forward toward the blonde driver when he felt
a sudden thud across the side of his face.
 
The world spun for a moment from the shock of the punch and
his jaw throbbed as he curled up in the corner of the seat.

“Your
sentiment is touching, Thomas.
 
Do
not think you are by any means safe at this point.
 
Remember what I will do if you do not cooperate.”
 

Through
the ringing in his ears, Tommy got the message.
 
Sean’s parents could still be in danger, an element to this
whole scenario he, unfortunately, continued to forget.

The
guard reached over, about to smack Schultz back to a more alert state when
Ulrich waved him off.
 
“That’s
enough.”

He
nodded his head slowly.
 

“Good.
 
Now, what I need to know is, where
should we go next?
 
Hmm?”

Tommy’s
voice was low as he sat up straight, eyeing the guard.
 
“How should I know?
 
You killed the guy that could have had
the information.”

“Now,
now, Thomas.
 
You don’t know that
he died.
 
And you need to dwell on
the things that you can help.
 
Tell
me, what do those Bible verses have to do with any of this?”

For
a long minute, Tommy stared out the window of the truck as they sped along the
rolling countryside.
 
He looked at
the other cars that passed by, knowing the passengers had no idea what was
going on inside the black SUV.
  
His mind came back to the present.
 
Right now, he needed to focus.
 

“I
can only think of one place that has any sort of correlation with the clues at
the church.”

“And
that is?”

“It
will take us a while to get there.”

“How
far?”

“Probably
four hours at best.”

Ulrich
seemed to contemplate how long it would be.
 
“You are certain?”

“As
certain as I can be.
 
I didn’t
really get a lot of time to investigate back there, what with all the shooting
and using me as a human shield and all.”
 

“What
is this place?”
 
He ignored Tommy’s
sarcasm.

“It’s
called Rock Eagle, down in east Georgia.
 
That seems like the only place that would match up with the clues of the
Raven and the Dove.”
 
He laughed,
“Actually, I’m a little annoyed that I didn’t think of it before.
 
It seems kind of obvious now.”

“Why
is that?”

“Because
Rock Eagle and its sister site, Rock Hawk, are the only stone effigies of their
kind in the United States.
 
They
are essentially two giant birds made out of piled rocks.”
 
He paused for a moment and
released an exhausted sigh.
 
“You’ll see when we get there.”
 

Then,
Tommy laid his head back against the headrest of the seat in an effort to relax
the pain coming from his jaw.
 
The
blonde man driving the truck watched Tommy out of the corner of the rear-view
mirror, wary of his every movement.

Chapter
51

Southeastern
Tennessee

The
phone only rang twice on the other end before Sean heard, “Wyatt, you better
have a good explanation for all this!”

Sean
smirked, “I take it you’re at the church, then, Detective?”

“Yeah,
we’re at the church.
 
It’s a bloody
mess over here.
 
Got an
unidentified corpse at the base of the stage in the sanctuary, and a church
worker in the hospital.
 
You
wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“The
corpse shot at me first,” Sean replied plainly.
 
“How is the old man?”

“Critical
but stable.
 
Docs think he will be
okay.
 
Lost a lot of blood, but the
bullet missed his vitals.
 
He’s
hurt, but he’ll live.”
 

“That’s
good to hear.
 
I guess they shot
him to slow us down.
 
They were
gone once we got to the parking lot.”

Trent’s
voice took on a quieter tone, “Look, Sean, there’s a lot of people that still
want to ask you some questions.
 
FBI’s here now.
 
I’m way out
of my backyard at this point.
 
I
got no jurisdiction at all.”

“So,
do you still think I am the one going around killing people?”

“No.
 
I know you’re innocent.
 
We saw the security tapes from the
museum.
 
But you still need you to
turn yourself in.
 
There’s a dead
man here that you did kill and with your help we might be able to find the
others and bring this to an end.”

“Sorry,
Detective.
 
No can do.
 
We don’t have much time.
 
Jurgenson and his other thug are on
their way south.
 
I think they are
headed to a place called Rock Eagle down in southeastern Georgia.”

“What
makes you think that?”

“Kinda
difficult to explain at this point.
 
I really don’t think you would understand.”

“Sean.
 
Listen to me.
 
These guys are obviously dangerous.
 
Let me help you…”

“If
you want to help, find out who is behind this,” he responded with clenched
teeth.
 

“I’m
working on it.
 
The guy in the
video footage from the museum doesn’t come up on any of our known
databases.
 
This Jurgenson’s a
ghost.”
 

Sean
considered this last bit of information.
 
He’d run into men like this before, assassins, hit men, contract
killers.
 
They come by many
names.
 
Sometimes they were
sloppy.
 
Usually, they were very
good.
 
He was unsure into which
category this Jurgenson fell.
 
So
far, the guy’s only mistake had been ignoring the presence of the security
cameras in the museum.
 
Maybe he’d
not even thought that such a small place would have measures like that in
place.
 
Either way, the man was
lethal.
 
But something was making
him impatient, a fact Wyatt might be able to use to his advantage.
 
Or so he hoped.

And
then there was the other component of this mysterious man’s existence.
 
If he was a hired gun, as Sean
suspected, that meant that someone else was pulling the strings.
 
This was somewhat more disconcerting.
 
Usually, even if the contractor was
taken out, the guy behind it all simply disappeared, leaving the trail
cold.
 
Just like with the
assassination of John Kennedy.
 
No
one will ever know who really ordered the hit.
 
One thing is certain, though, Lee Oswald was no mastermind.

Joe
changed lanes glancing back in the rear-view mirror to make sure no one was
following.
 
A white luxury sedan
passed in the far right lane and continued further and further ahead.

“Sean,
you there?”
 
Morris’s voice snapped
him back to the moment.

“I
don’t think Jurgenson is the one calling the shots.”

“No?”
 
Trent sounded surprised.

“Nah.
 
The way that this whole thing has been
going down, makes me think he’s just the manager of the team.”

“But
not the owner?”

“Right.”

“So
who is?”

Sean
could tell the cop’s voice was being kept a little low.
 
He imagined an entire crime scene
investigation going on in the background.
 
Trent must have surely been huddled in a corner of the church somewhere
so no one else could hear the conversation.
 

“I’m
not sure.
 
There are only a few
people in the world who even know about the legend of the lost chambers.
 
Until this whole thing started, I
didn’t really know much.
 
And most
of what I knew about it came from Tommy.”

“You
said a few people.
 
Who else would
fit into that category?”

“I
don’t know.
 
I’ve been wracking my
brain trying to figure that out, but no one comes to mind.
 
Tommy never did any presentations about
the chambers story.
 
It was
something that he and I talked about in private.
 
He was always really secretive about his research on it,
too.
 
I can tell you this, though;
Tommy put his life into that myth.
 
He wants to find the lost chambers more than anything else.
 
It’s completely absorbed him.”

“Not
one person comes to mind that he may have been in contact with?”

For
a moment, Sean looked out the window of the truck, watching the fiery colors of
the forest blur by.
 
“There was one
guy that I saw leaving Tommy’s office once, about six months ago.
 
I had never seen him before.
 
Now that I think of it, I don’t think I
ever saw him after that either.
 
He
was an older gentleman, walked with a fancy looking cane and dressed in a
pin-striped Armani three piece.
 
Not sure why it was, but he had a scowl on his face, like someone had
just stolen his last piece of candy.”

“Didn’t
get his name?”

“I
went in and found Tommy sitting at his desk with his hands crossed.
 
Guess he was thinking pretty hard about
whatever he and the old guy had discussed.
 
But he never told me what they talked about or who the man
was.”

The
detective silently contemplated the scenario and the few details they had.

Sean
decided to go on.
 
“All I know is
that I have a chance to stop these guys, and that is exactly what I intend to
do.”

Resignation
came from the other end. “I guess there’s no changing your mind, Sean.
 
You know that I could call the police
down where you’re headed.”

“I
realize that.
 
But you know as well
as I do if you get other authorities involved we may never get Tommy back.”

Morris
contemplated the problem.
 
“Ok,
Sean.
 
I will give you a little
more time, twenty-four hours.
 
But
that’s it.
 
After that, I want your
full cooperation with this.
 
You
hear me?”

“Yeah.
 
I hear ya.”

“Good.
 
Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“We’ll
see.”
 

The
line went dead.