ENCOUNTER
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He looked at me, eyes wide. “How do you know…” he started, “How could you possibly know?”
“Father, let’s cut to the chase. I know the library is real, I know about the advanced technology, and I know about the Vatican’s interest. I just need to understand why the sudden involvement and what are the Vatican’s men’s intentions?
He seemed to look at me with newfound respect, “Dr. Burnett, you are more resourceful than they give you credit for; that may prove beneficial. But if the library does exist, then what Marconi wrote about may be true, and their horrible plans could become a reality.” He paused, took a couple of deep breaths, and continued. “Ruthless men have been hired to find out what you know, determine if you know the location of the library, and then eliminate you and your friends. I know that for a fact.” There was a pause, “I overheard the Cardinal bishop talking on the phone to someone he called Marco, and then I heard your name mentioned. I was curious, so I investigated your background and found that you were an American treasure hunter who has been looking for the library here in Ecuador. I realized then my discoveries of the Marconi letters were somehow intertwined with your search. I felt your life might be at risk after overhearing the Cardinal’s phone conversation, in some part because of my research findings. That is why I am here. I cannot be a party to such a plan. I am a researcher and a man of God; I provide information, but not to be used to kill another human being. I simply cannot… The little man sat almost trembling as he spoke.
“I am very glad to hear that,” I said, “and I do appreciate your concern. So, what is the Vatican’s end game here?”
The priest continued, “I am sure the knowledge and physical technology the library may hold would be highly prized. But, more important to them, I believe, is the source of the stranger’s longevity. I fear if they find that, a faction within the Vatican, which I know exists, would use it for purposes that would destroy the Church as we know it and who knows what else. I am afraid the Cardinal bishop is deeply involved in this group and has a lust for power.
“Do you realize the power that immortality could provide? A Pope, for example. Immortality could be represented as a gift from God, a miracle, and in the eyes of his followers, granting him absolute power over all things. And the technology, unlike any known to man, could lead to control, not only of the Church and its believers but also to the world. No, Signore, this is not something I want to be part of or see happen. They must be stopped, and I am afraid,” he said in a halting voice, “this task falls to you and your friends.”
I pondered his statements for a few minutes and looked at Doc, who said, “He’s right; that would be disastrous and have consequences worldwide.”
I turned back to the Prefect, who was looking about nervously, took a breath as the enormity of what had just been said started sinking in, and said, “So, Father, what can you tell me about these men, this Marco the Cardinal bishop talked to?”
“I did some checking on my own before I came. In my position, I have many confidential resources not available to others. I can ask questions without the fear of reprisal or being found out. The men this Cardinal bishop hired are very dangerous. They have worked for him before on things that require action with no questions asked, taking care of problems with extreme prejudice. Some of the men are ex-military, they are mercenaries, and they have no compunction about killing. You and your friends are in grave danger, as am I if it is found out I came to warn you.”
“Is that a possibility that you could be found out?”
He thought for a moment, “Possibly, yes, but not likely. I leave later tonight for my return to Rome, so my absence should not be noticed. I have additional safeguards in place should I need them, so do not worry about me. Be aware that these men are well trained and have unlimited resources at their disposal. As I said, they are very dangerous.” He looked around again and said, “I must go now,” he rose and turned to face Doc and me. “God go with you, my sons; I will pray for your safety and the safety of your friends,” and with that blessing, he blended into the crowd and was gone.
Doc and I sat there a few minutes, not saying much, and then Joe’s voice came over the Comms, “Your visitor has left the park.”
“Roger that,” I said, “could you tell if he was being followed?”
“I don’t believe so; he hailed a cab and left the area within minutes. I saw no one else looking like they were interested in his presence or departure.”
“Good, head back to the hotel, and Doc and I will meet you there. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
We hailed a cab and rode back to the hotel in silence. When we got out, we stood at the hotel entrance, and Doc looked at me and said, “Well, that was a hell of a bombshell we just had dropped on us. Talk about a nightmare scenario.”
My mind was reeling, “No shit,” I said, “Just what we needed. It’s bad enough we’ve got these new guys that want to kill us, but the potential for world domination looming in the distance… and we may be the only ones that can stop it. I mean, for crying out loud.”
Doc chuckled, “Yeah, no pressure.”
I was shaking my head as we entered and headed for the bar. I thought, well, at least it’s not Monday…
The rest of the gang was there, including Reggie. They must have called her on their way back. Good, she needs to hear this too. Two cold beers were sitting on the table, waiting for us. I picked up mine and said, “Pay the tab and meet in my room, five minutes.” I turned and headed for the elevator. Five minutes later, we were all seated around the table in my room—expectant looks on all the faces.
“Okay, boys and girls, here’s the latest bombshell.”
Doc interjected, “You guys are going to love this,” he said sarcastically.
With that preamble, we filled them in on the details of our meeting. Everyone sat quietly, waiting for us to finish. When we did, we sat back in our chairs and surveyed the faces around the table—everything from grim acceptance to open-eyed “wow” and much in-between.
O’Reilly spoke first, “So, you think this guy is for real? I mean, this sounds pretty apocalyptic.”
“I know,” I said, “It’s a lot to take in.”
Reggie looked around the table and said to the group, “How the hell do you guys get yourselves into these situations? You have been in the shit ever since I met up with you, but this is just wacko. I mean, I’m down with this whole space invaders/library thing, but this religious apocalypse, really?”
“Well,” Doc said, “the pieces seem to be there, and if this Prefect is right about some nefarious renegade group inside the Vatican looking to take over, and if they get ahold of the stuff we know exists, then, yeah, it could be for real.”
Reggie sat back, slowly shaking her head, “Holy crap.”
Dimitri looked at Reggie and said, “That’s an understatement if ever I heard one. This Prefect guy said we are the ones that are tasked with stopping this world domination plot?”
“Well, we are the ones that can stop the bad guys from getting the additional resources they need to implement their plan, so I guess you could say it’s up to us,” Doc said.
We sat there in silence for what seemed like hours, but only minutes had passed.
“We need to let Uncle Harold know about these Vatican mercs,” Dimitri said, “plus, now that we know we are going up against trained heavy hitters, I need to talk to him.”
“About what?” I asked.
“Heavy hitter stuff, that’s all, no worries, Colt.”
I chalked his comment up to “Dimitri stuff” and let it go.
It was a good idea to let Uncle Harold know about the Vatican mercenaries, as Dimitri said. Not knowing anything about them other than what the Prefect had just told us, we needed to make sure that anyone connected with us, overtly or covertly, knew about the potential danger they could be facing because of our association.
Our meeting went well. Uncle Harold let us know that the drug smuggler situation had res
olved itself in Columbia, with our group of baddies no longer a problem. As far as he could tell, no one was looking for the money, so we didn’t have to worry about that, and all our local funding requests were moving along without a hitch. He was concerned with our news of the Vatican mercs on our tail, however. And he wanted to know if we thought we needed more manpower. I considered his offer but said not at this time, but we would stay in touch just in case. The meeting broke up, and we headed out. Dimitri hung back, and I saw him talking to Uncle Harold alone. Uncle Harold was frowning at first as Dimitri spoke, then shook his head, laughed, and shook Dimitri’s hand. We were getting into the Beast when Dimitri caught up, and I asked, “What was that all about?”
“Just some business, as I said, heavy hitter business; we’re cool,” he said as he got in the driver’s seat, and we headed back to the hotel.
Chapter Eight
Monday was filled with final preparations for our mountain trek and planning for our dinner meeting with Mendez later that evening. Our strategy was simple; be general in all discussions of our activities and let him fish. We should be able to tell what information he’s looking for. We’ll follow his lead on discussions and see how much of his hand he will reveal. We would mention our Vatican “friends” in terms of European bad guys tracking American treasure hunters and feign concern as to their intentions, leaving it as a hanging question, letting him wonder about their intentions. Anything else, we would have to play by ear.
The appointed time arrived, and a black Mercedes limo picked us up at our hotel. It was a 30-minute drive to Mendez’s estate just at the outskirts of the city. We passed through a gated entry with security guards and drove up to an impressive old colonial-style mansion. The house and grounds were immaculate, and the circle driveway in front could have accommodated at least 20 or more vehicles. As we approached the ornate front doors, we could tell this was an old estate that had been well maintained over the years. The doors opened as we got near, and I looked up to see at least two surveillance cameras mounted discreetly above it—old-world style with modern upgrades.
We entered and were met by a butler who led us into a large room. Suits of armor were positioned around it, with the centerpiece being a massive fireplace that could hold a small tree for firewood. On the walls were portraits and tapestries, all heirlooms, I thought. Mendez was standing in front of the fireplace with his back to us as we entered. The butler announced us, “Senor Mendez, Dr. Burnett, and company.” At that, Mendez turned around, and a huge smile spread across his face.
“Dr. Burnett, I am so pleased you were able to accept my invitation,” he said as he moved across the room, bypassing me and heading straight for O’Reilly.
“It is our pleasure,” I said to his back as he passed. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“Not at all, not at all,” he replied over his shoulder as he approached O’Reilly. “Senorita O’Reilly, as stunning as ever,” he said as he took her hand, made a slight bow, and kissed it.
Please, O’Reilly, don’t punch him, I thought.
“Why, Senor Mendez, you are too kind,” she said as he took her arm in his and escorted her to a settee near the fireplace.
“Please, gentlemen, do come and have a seat,” he said as he motioned to chairs set in a semi-circle in front of the fireplace. It was a cool evening, and there was a small fire warming the room. He formally shook hands with all of us as we settled in. His seat, of course, was next to O’Reilly. His butler came in with a tray of glasses and a bottle of wine. He filled the glasses, passed them around, placed the bottle on the table, and withdrew.
“Gentlemen and lady, to your health,” Mendez said as he raised his glass in salute. We responded likewise and sipped our wine, which was very good.
“I hope you like this wine; it is one of my favorites from my family vineyards—a 1979 Rose’.”
“Very nice,” Doc replied. “Light, refreshing, with a wonderful bouquet that compares favorably to a 1951 Bodegas Toro Albala Amontillado.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“Ah, a wine connoisseur,” Mendez replied.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Doc replied, “but I do appreciate fine wine such as this.”
Ah, the game is afoot, I thought as Doc began stroking Mendez’s ego. Mendez puffed up a little more and said, “Thank you, Senor Greene; we are very proud of the wines we produce. Now, Senorita O’Reilly, please tell me of your confrontation with Captain Montego. I never got the chance to hear the first-hand account on your last visit.”
O’Reilly obliged and delighted Mendez with her blow-by-blow description of their encounter and her subsequent commandeering of the helicopter.
“By the way,” she asked, “I thought Tex might be joining us this evening?”
I saw Mendez tense up as his smile faded slightly. He immediately regained his jovial host appearance and said, “I am sorry, but Tex had other business to attend to and was not available.”
Sure, I thought. Mendez eliminated what he saw as competition for O’Reilly’s attention. I could see by the team’s expressions they were thinking the same thing. But O’Reilly was smooth as she said, “Too bad, I had a question about the helicopter I hoped he could answer for me, but no matter. Please, tell me about your beautiful home; it is quite exquisite.”
That did it… hook, line, and sinker; she had him as Mendez spent the next 30 minutes regaling her with information about the estate and his family. I do believe we could have left and come back later, and he wouldn’t have noticed. The butler returned with another bottle of wine and refilled everyone’s glass, and I took the opportunity to move in on Mendez.
“Senior Mendez, you are very well connected in this city; I was wondering if you had heard of any groups of travelers being accosted by local thugs or bandits? I’m sure you heard about our altercation at the restaurant on our last visit.”
He seemed slightly annoyed that he had to move his attention to me but said, “Yes, I did hear about it. That was terrible; I’m glad no one was seriously hurt. Tourists are too often accosted by local thieves looking to make quick money stealing valuables from visitors to our city. Have you heard anything from the police concerning the matter?”
“No, nothing. It was rather unnerving, though, and I worry about our future explorations in the area.”
“Ahh, so, you are going back into the mountains?”
“Yes, we are. In fact, we’re heading out Wednesday or Thursday once we complete the necessary preparations.”
Dimitri jumped into the conversation, “Once we decide if we need to hire more men.”
“More men?” Mendez asked.
I realized Dimitri had just set the stage for our new bad guys revelation, so I said, “Yes, it has come to our attention that a group of non-locals, perhaps Europeans, have been persistently, but somewhat discreetly, asking questions about us and our activities. After our last incident, it is a little disconcerting.”
“I see,” Mendez said, now leaning toward me with a furrowed brow. I saw O’Reilly had a slight grin on her face and a slight nod said it all; we had him hooked.
“Yes, we think they are Italian and have no idea what their interest may be in us unless they are up to no good.” Now, he was very interested.
“Italian, you say.”
“Our contact said he heard them speaking together in Italian after asking some shopkeepers about us speaking perfect Spanish, but they were overheard saying they were tourists from Rome. We think there are five or six, maybe more in their group.”
“That is concerning. Are you sure they’re not just fans, maybe hoping to meet the great American treasure hunters?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” I said. “Our informant said they carried themselves like professionals, maybe military or ex-military types, so I don’t think they are fans,” I said with feigned concern. Now, he was the one that looked concerned as he pondered this revelation.
He sat back and slowly said, “This may be something
worth looking into,” while staring into the fireplace and then quickly turned and said, “on your behalf, of course.”
“Of course,” I said, “we would appreciate any help you could give us.”
Doc jumped in and said, “It would be a relief to know we are not being targeted by these men,” also sounding very concerned.
“Absolutely, I’ll have my people look into it for you and let you know what I find out.” Moments later, the butler entered and announced that dinner was served.
The meal was a seven-course delight, and the conversation was general and somewhat subdued. Mendez kept his happy face on, but it seemed a little more strained than before. He had our earlier discussion on his mind. As we were finishing our dessert, Mendez turned to me and said, “So, Dr. Burnett, do you have any fresh leads to follow in your search for the library?”
Now to the meat of things, I thought. “Not really; we will continue following up on some rumors we heard on our last visit—something about an abandoned village in the mountains. We’re not sure if it has any significance, but who knows?” I said rather casually. I hoped I portrayed the casual adventurer rather than the hard-core treasure hunter. The big question was, would he buy it?
We adjourned to a large library after dinner for a choice of more wine or an outstanding cognac. Ceiling to floor bookshelves were filled with very old leather-bound volumes. It even had two of those sliding ladders on each side so that you could reach the top shelves. At each end of the room were shields decorated with coats of arms, and underneath hung a variety of crossed swords and spears. A large portrait of a distinguished-looking man was hanging amidst them. A massive mahogany desk, deep burgundy leather furniture, and a huge world globe in an ornate carved wooden base rounded out the accouterments of the room. Of course, there was another large fireplace giving off a comfortable level of heat. Entering the room gave you the feeling of entering a museum, with its exquisite furnishings and appointments. I looked at the portrait and saw the family resemblance immediately.