Cam smiled. “So back to Smoot. We’ll drive out there in the morning, do our little brainstorm session, and then I’ll either come back with you or hang out at the compound. Georgia wants me to spend as much time there as I can. To look around, un-blinkered.”
“Very funny.” Amanda exhaled slowly. “Okay, but I’ll want regular updates after I leave. And if you start dressing in camouflage and talking about the world coming to an end, don’t bother to come home.”
Since Astarte loved how Georgia doted on her it was a simple matter to leave the two of them together at the hotel for the morning. Cam drove while Amanda navigated—the ride from Tucson to the compound in Casa Grande should take about an hour against morning traffic.
“Wow,” Cam said, “car thermometer says 67. A cold snap.”
“Yes. Yesterday was 68 at this time.”
“I like the sun and warmth, but it’s actually getting old already.”
“I agree. I’m having trouble keeping the sun from turning me into a swamp monster.” Amanda was allergic to the sun, which if she wasn’t careful caused her face to blister and pus. “Speaking of which, did you notice the rash on Willum’s face?”
“What of it?”
She shrugged. “We had just been talking about face rashes with Moses and Miriam. It just struck me as an odd coincidence.” She smiled. “And we know how you feel about them.”
As Cam drove, Amanda used her phone to bounce around the internet, looking for clues as to where the Templars may have hidden their golden chest. “I think we need to think allegorically. The Templars were big into the concept of duality and balance: the male and the female, the king and the priest, the dark and the light, the heavens and the earth.”
“Sort of like the Chinese with their yin and yang.”
“Yes. The obvious spot to hide the chest is in the cave with Hurech. But that’s too easy, too simple.”
“So you think the opposite.”
“Perhaps. If Hurech’s cave marks the winter solstice, perhaps the chest is in a cave marked by the summer solstice.”
Cam nodded. “I like it.” He pointed to a series of dome-like buildings on the horizon ahead. “There’s the compound. You can run your theory by Willum yourself.”
Amanda and Cameron had left for the day, and Georgia was up getting fruit from the hotel breakfast buffet. Astarte pushed the cereal around in her bowl, the milk splashing over the edges. Normally she didn’t like to make a mess—she would clean it up later so the waitress didn’t have to do it but for now she was too busy thinking.
Maybe the Flying Fox man was right. Cameron and Amanda believed explorers came here before Columbus, but they didn’t seem to agree with the rest of Uncle Jefferson’s research. And if they didn’t believe that, they probably didn’t believe she was the true princess. She thought about the talk Cameron gave earlier in the week—he never once mentioned the Nephites or Lamanites or the Book of Mormon or the Burrows Cave artifacts or the Michigan Tablets or any of the research Uncle Jefferson spent so much time on. Uncle Jefferson may have a few details wrong, but is it possible he is wrong about everything?
Uncle Jefferson had warned her that many people would disagree with his research because of what he called ‘religious blinders.’ Maybe it was true. Maybe that was why they wouldn’t let her go to the Mormon Church. When Amanda told Cameron about Quetzalcoatl, they both acted like the only way to explain the white god with a beard was that he was one of the Roman Jews from France. But Uncle Jefferson and other Mormons who studied Quetzalcoatl think he might be one of the prophets from the Book of Mormon—maybe the prophet Lehi, who came to Mexico in a boat across the Atlantic Ocean. Either one might be true, so why had Cameron ignored Lehi? In fact, couldn’t Lehi or his descendants have made the lead crosses and swords?
She sighed. Even though he was in heaven watching over her, and sometimes even talking to her, she missed Uncle Jefferson. Why did God let him die? She was happy to have found a new home, and she liked Amanda and Cameron. But that didn’t mean she could just forget about Uncle Jefferson. Or forget about being a princess.
“So, are you going to make them take the sodium pentothal?” Clarisse asked.
Willum’s brow furrowed. “Cam and Amanda? Of course not. They’re my guests.” It came out with more of an edge than he intended. “Sorry, this fast is getting to me a bit.” They were walking the three-quarter-mile perimeter of the sixteen-acre compound, a morning ritual they undertook both for exercise and as a security check.
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t spies.” She sipped from a water bottle.
He waved the comment away. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be paranoid.”
“You going to tell them about the white powder of gold?”
“Probably not. It doesn’t really have anything to do with the chest.” They reached the main gate; Willum checked his watch. “They should be here soon. You want to wait with me?”
“No thanks. I’ll catch you guys later.” She smiled. “Somebody has to run this place. I think the natives are about ready to storm the kitchen.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck.”
Ten minutes later, the musty, floral scent of Clarisse still swimming in Willum’s nostrils, a maroon SUV approached from the south and slowed in front of the iron gate. Willum smiled and waved, motioned for the guard to open the gate, and moved aside to allow Cam to drive in. They exchanged pleasantries as Willum gave them a quick tour and explained the original use of the compound.
“And everyone here honestly believes society is on the verge of collapse?” Amanda asked.
Willum smiled—somehow blunt questions like that always seemed less offensive when delivered with a British accent. Especially when the accent came from such a pretty face. “Actually, no. I would say only about ten percent of the people believe that. The other ninety percent believe it is a possibility and want to be prepared just in case. You know, very few people think they are going to die before their kids grow up, but almost all of them buy life insurance.” He shrugged. “So this is sort of like insurance. If we don’t need it, so much the better.”
He led them into the saucer. He had brought in a couple of folding tables and spread a number of topographic maps across them. “I’ve tried to make my search as methodical as possible.” He had placed pins on peaks he had explored. “But there are probably a couple of hundred peaks in the area, and each has at least a few caves. Sometimes I feel like Sisyphus, forever rolling a boulder uphill.”
They sat, and Amanda explained her theory about how the Templars believed in duality. “I don’t think they would have hidden the chest with Hurech. Not only is it too obvious—anyone finding the rune stone would investigate—it is also too … simple. Or inelegant. The Templars loved allegory, and they loved codes and puzzles.”
Cam continued. “So we thought the winter solstice alignment might be a clue. Again, using the duality concept, what might they have paired with the winter solstice?”
Willum shrugged. “Maybe the summer solstice?”
Cam nodded. “Exactly. In fact, we see this today with the modern Freemasons. Their two most important dates of the year are the winter and summer solstices. Light and dark, hot and cold, life and death.”
“So we need to find a cave that has a summer solstice alignment?” Willum asked. “That might narrow it down some, but we’re still talking scores of mountain peaks.”
Amanda said, “I think we can narrow it down further.” She asked him to translate the runic inscription again. “That’s what I remembered. So here are the clues from that. First, it says the secret lies near Hurech’s body. Second, it says Hurech’s body turns to dust and goes to Eden’s temple. Let’s take the second one first.”
“Hurech’s body turning to dust,” Cam repeated. He looked at Willum. “Did you tell me some of the bones were missing?”
“Yes.”
“And how deep was the body buried?”
“Actually, not
very deep at all. I was surprised.” Why hadn’t he figured out the clues on the rune stone himself?
Cam continued. “And you said there was no skull, right?” Willum nodded. “So how about this for a theory? Hurech’s buddy buries him in a very shallow grave. But he keeps the skull and thigh bones to bring back to Europe—that’s what the Templars did when knights died in battle, they brought home the skull and crossbones. The bones that are left in the cave turn to dust, right?”
Willum nodded again. “That makes sense. I don’t remember seeing any thigh bones either.”
“Wait,” Amanda interjected. “Which way does the wind blow in those mountains?”
As a helicopter pilot, Willum needed to know this type of stuff. “Almost always west to east. Other areas of Arizona are different, but in those hills it’s pretty consistent.”
Amanda’s face flushed. “Okay then. Let’s put Cam’s theory on hold for a second and focus on the rest of the clue, about the body going to Eden’s temple. We know Eden is always associated with the east. So if the body turned to dust, and the wind blew from the west, the dust would blow to the east, right?”
“To some kind of temple,” Cam said.
“The Templars often used caves as religious sites,” Amanda said. “They worshiped Mother Earth; the cave symbolized being in her womb. Royston Cave in England is just one example.”
Willum wanted to make sure he was keeping up. “So you think the inscription tells us that Hurech’s bones turned to dust and were blown in an easterly direction, to some cave.”
Amanda nodded. “And let’s not forget the first clue: The secret is buried near Hurech’s body.”
“Which has now been blown to the east,” Cam said.
“So that’s where the chest is buried,” Willum said.
Amanda stood and looked down at Willum’s maps. “Willum, can you show me where the rune stone cave is?” Willum pointed it out. “So to the east of it is the saddle we climbed up, and to the east of that is another peak?”
“Yes.”
“And are there any caves on that peak that face, say, in a northerly direction?”
“I’m sure there are; that whole ridgeline is pockmarked with fissures. But why specify northerly caves?”
“Because if I’m right, if the cave is marked by some kind of summer solstice illumination, then we are looking for a cave where a sunbeam penetrates the opening only when the sun is at its most northerly point on the horizon.” She scratched out a drawing. “I’m guessing at this latitude the sun gets pretty far north at the summer solstice.” She turned the drawing to the men. “So we’re looking for a cave that opens to the north, but is actually angled a bit to the west.”
Cam nodded. “And, ideally, it’d be sort of a straight shot from one cave to the other. That’s how the dust would blow over.”
Willum looked down at his maps. “Well, that sure narrows it down.” He pointed with a pencil tip. “If you’re right, there’s only a few caves that fit the bill.” He tried to check his excitement. “You guys up for another climb?”
“Today?” Cam asked.
“Why not?”
Ellis finished connecting the wires and wiped the greasy residue off his hands with a paper towel before answering his cell phone. “Hello Georgia.”
“Cam and Amanda are at the compound.”
Ellis knew that, but Georgia didn’t know he knew, so he acted surprised. “Excellent. So your plan is working?”
“Yes.” She paused. “You know, Thorne recognized you yesterday when you were tailing them.”
Good. Thorne was bragging about matching wits with the pros. If this was going to work, Ellis needed Thorne to bring his A-game. “Really? That was sloppy of us.”
“No harm done,” she said.
“So what’s the plan now?” he asked. Georgia wasn’t in charge but Ellis didn’t mind making her think she was.
“We’ll give Cam a few days to poke around inside the compound. So sit tight for now.”
Fat chance of that. Just like he needed Thorne on his A-game, he needed a better effort from Willum as well, needed him to stop focusing on his treasure chest and instead get back into his lab. At first Ellis had not agreed with Duck Boots’ opinion that Willum was the best bet for figuring out the fuel cell technology. Surely the government had hundreds of scientists in dozens of labs for this kind of stuff. And no doubt they were hard at work as well. But what could be more American than some guy in his garage or basement or armed compound tinkering with his chemistry set and inventing the next great thing? Ben Franklin, Eli Whitney, Thomas Edison, the Wright Brothers, Steve Jobs—but for their lack of paranoia they were no different than Smoot. All Smoot needed was a gentle kick in the ass.
In the end they decided to survey the site by helicopter first, and wait until the next morning to do the climb. Willum’s canary-yellow Robinson R22 was only a two-seater, so Amanda returned to Tucson while Cam joined Willum for the copter ride south.
“I just follow the highway down past Tucson,” Willum said.
“How’d you learn to fly?” Cam asked, shouting above the sound of the rotor.
“I was trained in the Marines. Then I kept my license. When I bought the compound I also bought this copter.”
“Can I ask how much they go for?”
“Sure. A quarter-million, new. I got a used one for about half that.” He shrugged. “But if I’m right and society collapses, money won’t really mean anything. And if I’m wrong, well, I still have the copter.”
“How will you fly it if you can’t find fuel?”
“I salvaged an underground tank from a gas station going out of business and buried it in the back of the compound. So I have about three thousand gallons of aviation gasoline in reserve. The copter tank holds thirty gallons, which gives me a couple hours flight time. So I would be able to take about a hundred trips like this before I ran out of fuel. If I’m wrong about the collapse, I still have the gas to use in my SUV.”
“Will it work in a car?”
“With a few modifications. Lots of guys with muscle cars use it even though it’s more expensive.”
Cam nodded. He had expected Willum to be more of a nut-job. But really all he was doing was taking the Boy Scout motto of ‘Be Prepared’ to the next level. And who was to say he was wrong?
“There’s the range,” Willum pointed. “We’ll only have about forty-five minutes to look around; we’re carrying a full load with both of us, and we’ll need gas to get back to the compound.”
“If Amanda is right about the clues, my guess is we won’t need that long. We’ll either see a cave that fits or we won’t.”
“I’ll hover over the rune stone cave first, okay?”
Cam nodded again. That way they could get their bearings. If Amanda was right, the cave would be east of that with its opening oriented to the north-northwest. A few minutes later Willum slowed and pointed down to the cliff-face. Cam recognized the cave. He looked east—as shown on the maps, a second peak rose up above the saddle.
Willum climbed and circled to the shaded, northern side of the eastern peak. Peering through binoculars Cam examined the crevices, looking for an appropriate hiding spot. “The prospectors were crawling all over these hills. So I’m guessing it’s not that accessible, otherwise somebody besides Boone’s great-great-grandfather would have stumbled upon it,” Willum said.
“Boone was your cellmate?”
“Yes. Boonie’s uncle.”
Cam pointed. “Can you get a little closer? That cave is pretty high up the cliff-face so it would be hard to get to.”
“And it’s oriented to the northwest.”
Willum flew closer. “Look down below,” he said. “See all those boulders? Part of the cliff fell away. Centuries ago, maybe there was a better path to get up to that cave.”
Cam nodded. They had surveyed the entire northern face. “That’s definitely our best possibility.” He scanned the rock face with the binoculars. “But it’s go
ing to be a bear of a climb to get there.”
Cam and Willum flew back to the compound. They discussed the research Cam and Amanda had been doing on the Ark of the Covenant; intermittently Cam texted with Amanda, describing the cave they had found and making plans for tomorrow. Tonight Cam would sleep in the compound; in the morning Amanda would drive back to the gas station where the three of them would gather again for another hike. In the meantime, no doubt, Georgia would debrief Amanda.
“After we land, we’ll need to go out and get some rock-climbing gear,” Willum said. “We’re going to need to lower someone down that cliff-face; I don’t think there’s any other way to get to the cave.”
Cam nodded. “I’m sure Amanda will be up for it.” He didn’t love the idea but he knew there was no way he could talk her out of it. She was the lightest, and she had done some rock-climbing, so she was the obvious choice. Given her gymnastics background she would have little trouble rappelling down the cliff-face.
Willum swallowed. “Um, I know you were a little spooked by Boonie. But we could use another strong back up there. He knows those mountains, and he really is harmless. And it was his grandfather who told me about it in the first place.”
“Okay.”
Neither asked the obvious question: If they found the chest, how would they get it down even with Boonie’s help?
A bright-smiled Clarisse jogged out to meet them at the landing pad. Willum introduced her to Cam. “She runs this place,” he said.
“I thought we could do a group dinner tonight to break the fast,” she said. “Give Cameron a chance to meet everyone.”
“Sounds good,” Willum said. “Will you make your chili?”
“Nope. New England clam chowder, in honor of Cameron. Already on the stove.”
Willum described the cave they had found. “We need to go out and get supplies for tomorrow. After that I want to show Cam our special desert sand.”
Willum thought he detected a look of displeasure from Clarisse. “Oh. All right. I thought we would be concentrating on finding the chest.”
Powdered Gold: Templars and the American Ark of the Covenant (Templars in America Series Book 3) Page 14