Powdered Gold: Templars and the American Ark of the Covenant (Templars in America Series Book 3)

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Powdered Gold: Templars and the American Ark of the Covenant (Templars in America Series Book 3) Page 27

by David S. Brody


  Implicit in the statement was that Thorne didn’t think Ellis had anything to do with the disappearance, other than driving her out there. And if he knew Ellis didn’t, he must know who did. Simple deductive reasoning. “You already know who took her. So what do you want from me?”

  Doubt flickered in Thorne’s eyes. In some ways it was better than knocking him to the ground. “How do you know that?” Thorne asked.

  Ellis pulled the towel away from his nose. But he still sounded nasally. “Because I’m smarter than you.”

  “Well, if you’re so smart, tell us what Boonie is up to.”

  Ellis tried to hide his surprise by pushing the towel back over his face. Boonie? “How would I know?”

  Amanda responded. She really was a nice piece. And her accent was hot also. Maybe instead of pummeling Thorne he’d steal the girl from him. “He claims to be a bloody federal agent.”

  What? “That’s ridiculous. The guy’s a retard.”

  Thorne sneered. “It’s a cover, smart boy.”

  This made no sense. Georgia was in charge, and Ellis the one assigned to work behind the scenes. “He’s lying to you.”

  “Well, explain this,” Thorne said. “He swore us to secrecy. But he said the one person we could confide in was you.” He paused. “He told us we could trust you because we were all Patriots fans.”

  Ellis pulled himself to his feet. “I need to use the bathroom.” He staggered away from Thorne and Amanda, the towel pushed against his nose.

  Thorne pushed past him and entered the bathroom first, removing anything Ellis might use as a weapon. Satisfied, he left Ellis alone.

  Ellis turned on the shower to hide the noise and, as silently as possible, puked into the toilet.

  Patriots fans. Just like in the bathroom stall at the highway rest area. So Boonie was the guy in the duck boots. The meeting in New Hampshire was a goddamn set-up, about as far away from Arizona as you could get.

  Throwing the bloodied towel into the bathtub, Ellis washed his hands and face, rinsed his mouth and stared at the bloodshot eyes reflected in the mirror in front of him. “Holy shit,” he breathed. This was close to checkmate. Really close. Not only was his career in jeopardy, but he could easily spend the rest of his life in jail. “Fuck.”

  And he never saw it coming. Which made sense, of course. If he had seen it coming, he would have taken countermeasures. But he had swallowed the ruse like a baby suckling on his mother’s tit.

  He splashed more water on his face and replayed the past week in his head. He had framed Boonie for the roadside bomb. Nobody had questioned him on it—the only one who might have, Clarisse, was now dead. But Boonie knew the truth, knew he hadn’t planted the bomb. And so Boonie must also have deduced that Ellis planted it—the one person who had motive to frame Boonie was the real bomber. That is why Boonie told Thorne to contact Ellis—Boonie wanted Ellis to know that Boonie knew the truth. Implicit in that message was a clear threat—if this mission goes bad, young Ellis, you are taking the fall for the car-bomb that killed the ATF agent.

  This mission had just become personal. Very personal. If Thorne and Amanda couldn’t persuade Smoot to deliver the fuel cell to Boonie, Ellis would be spending the rest of his life in jail.

  “What do you think he’s doing in there?” Amanda asked. Ellis had stumbled into the bathroom almost ten minutes ago.

  “Maybe combing his hair,” Cam sniffed.

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t helping rescue Astarte. Amanda slapped the door with an open hand. “Get your ass out here!”

  The water stopped running. “Coming.”

  A minute later Ellis stepped out of the bathroom, a wadded-up tissue in one nostril. “Okay, I’ll help you,” Ellis said. He seemed different, less haughty. He pulled a navy blue golf shirt over his head and flopped into a desk chair. “We need to think of a way to convince Smoot to give up the fuel cell.”

  Amanda sat on the edge of the bed. “Thanks for stating the obvious.”

  They sat in silence for a few seconds. “The problem,” Cam said as he stood next to Amanda, a wary eye on Ellis, “is that Willum’s not going to trust anyone. First it turned out we lied to him and we really were helping the feds. Then it turned out Clarisse was trying to steal the fuel cell. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out Boonie isn’t what he says? It’s not paranoia if everyone really is out to get you.”

  “What about just telling him the truth?” Amanda said. “Ask him to help us save Astarte.”

  Ellis shook his head. “I hate to agree with Cameron,” which, for once, he did not pronounce in his affected way, “but Smoot isn’t going to trust you. He’ll think the whole thing is just a ploy to get the fuel cell from him.”

  “And if we tell him,” Cam said, “and Boonie finds out, who knows what he’ll do to Astarte?”

  Poor Astarte must be petrified, held hostage in some dark room by a strange man. Amanda wrapped her arms around herself to suppress her shudder and tried to focus on coming up with a plan. But her mind was mush. “It’s not much of a plan,” she said, “but what about just appealing to Willum’s sense of right and wrong? He can end the siege and save the compound just by giving up the fuel cell.”

  Cam bit his lip. “That hasn’t worked so far. He really doesn’t want the feds to get this technology. And I don’t think he’ll trust that the feds will keep their word. Again, he’s not going to be in a trusting mood.” Cam paused. “I wonder if there’s a way to convince him the ark needs the fuel cell to operate. By showing that the ark works we can prove it’s ancient.”

  “I like your approach,” Amanda said. “But we wouldn’t have to give the fuel cell to the feds to test the ark. We could just test it ourselves.”

  Cam nodded. “Good point.” He paused. “What about if Willum gave them a fake prototype, one that didn’t work?”

  Ellis rolled his eyes. “Please. Boonie’s not going to fall for that. You’re not going to see Astarte until they’re sure the prototype works.”

  Ten seconds passed, with no further discussion. “So it seems like we have bad ideas and very bad ideas,” Amanda said. “So I vote we try out one of the bad ideas and see if it works.” She stood. “Because doing nothing is not an option.”

  Cam and Amanda agreed that, of the bad ideas, the plan to approach Willum to see if he would give up the fuel cell to end the standoff was the one with the least risk. And, as Amanda said, at least they’d be doing something.

  Cam drove, for what seemed like their hundredth trip to the compound. “I really want to get back to Westford,” Amanda said.

  “Yeah, I’m getting sick of the desert and the never-changing weather and living in a hotel and dealing with all these fruitcakes.”

  “We need to call Georgia. I’ve been dodging her calls all morning.”

  Cam nodded. “I got this one.” He punched at his phone, one eye on the road. “It’s Cam,” he said. “Listen, you promised us you would control your boy Ellis, and you didn’t. And Astarte is missing because of that. So Amanda and I are going to try to handle this ourselves, without help from you or your people. Just make sure we can get into the compound, okay? And make sure they don’t storm the compound until we get her out.”

  Georgia stammered a reply. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, you know that. But I can’t make any promises….”

  “Frankly, Georgia, we’re not interested in any more of your promises. We need some results. Threaten to go public, call the President yourself, I don’t care. Just do what needs to be done.”

  “That was harsh,” Amanda said.

  “Sorry. But I’m pissed.”

  “Don’t be sorry. She deserves it.”

  Cam exhaled. “Besides, Boonie said we couldn’t tell her anything. So this was the best way to handle her. If he saw her with us, or saw her snooping around the compound, he might get the wrong idea.”

  She nodded. “Okay, so assuming we get into the compound, what are we going to say to Willum?”

&
nbsp; Cam sighed. “I don’t know. But we’ve got a half hour to come up with something. Something brilliant.”

  Amanda put her palm over her forehead. “Bloody hell.”

  Ellis hadn’t mentioned this to Thorne and Amanda, of course, but there was another way for Ellis to save his skin besides orchestrating a trade of Astarte for the fuel cell: A raid on the compound which killed Boonie.

  With Boonie dead, there would be nobody left to tie Ellis to the roadside bomb.

  Would Ellis be willing to allow the compound to come under siege, allow innocent people to be killed? What about honor and loyalty and the self-sacrifice required of a federal agent? He spit more blood into the bathroom sink. These were silly sentiments, empty words. If he didn’t look out for himself, nobody else would. Even the people he worked for were playing him.

  And those chuckleheads knew what they were getting themselves into when they moved into the compound. Heck, half of them probably have a martyr complex and want to die anyway. Ellis ran a brush through his hair, fluffed his bangs. He expected Thorne and the Brit to succeed. But if not, Ellis had a back-up plan.

  He picked up the phone and dialed a number in suburban Virginia. After being shuttled and put on hold and asked repeatedly for his security clearance, he finally was connected. “Hayek here.”

  “This is agent Ellis Kincaid, sir. I’m stationed out in Tucson, at the Smoot compound.”

  “Why are you calling me directly?”

  “Because, frankly, I’m not sure who else to trust with this, sir. I just received a tip that someone inside the compound has been seen meeting with the Chinese. Apparently he is trying to sell them a state-of-the art fuel cell.”

  A sharp intake of breath. “Do you know who it is?”

  Ellis smiled. Now was not the time to overplay his hand. “Not yet. But I think the information is solid.”

  Georgia’s call must have done the trick, because the military guard waved their SUV past the checkpoint outside the compound. They rolled to a stop near the front gate, where a camouflaged soldier greeted them.

  “No Hazmat suit?” Cam asked. At this point most of the soldiers knew Cam and Amanda by sight.

  “Wind shifted; readings are down,” the soldier answered. “I’ve been instructed to allow you to approach the gate. But I can’t promise they’ll let you in.”

  Cam nodded and turned to Amanda. “I still think you should stay out here. Obviously, radiation levels will be higher inside.”

  She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’ll put on a suit if I have to. But I’m coming with you.”

  They walked slowly to the main gate. Inside the compound the guards had removed their Hazmat suits as well. Cam spoke into an intercom and they waited for a few minutes, presumably while the guards checked with Willum. An electronic deadbolt clicked and the gate swung open.

  They found Willum in the picnic table area, sheltered from possible snipers. Dark crests of skin sagged beneath his eyes, and his brown eyes themselves seemed less alive and vibrant than they had only a few days earlier. He didn’t smile or offer a hand. Obviously his paranoia had been hard at work—was he now wondering if the Astarte abduction was some kind of a ruse? “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  Amanda answered, taking his hand in hers. “We need your help, Willum.” She waited until he made eye contact. “I know nothing has been as it seems. I know the people you trusted have turned on you. But this is real. Astarte is in danger. We need your help.”

  He nodded slowly. “Tell me what you know. Have you heard from the kidnapper?”

  Cam nodded. “Yes, we have. He says he’ll trade her for the fuel cell.”

  “He will, huh? And you believe him?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said.

  “And who is this honest man, this trustworthy kidnapper?”

  Cam and Amanda glanced at each other. Cam took a deep breath. “We can’t tell you.”

  Willum crossed his arms in front of his chest and exhaled. He leaned back against the wall of one of the domes. “You can’t tell me.”

  “He said he would harm Astarte if we did,” Amanda said.

  He exhaled again. “So let me get this straight. You guys lied to me when we met, not telling me you were working with the feds. Then you lied to me again, not telling me Clarisse was trying to steal the fuel cell.”

  “We didn’t know about Clarisse,” Cam said.

  “Okay, so you only lied to me once.” Willum smiled sadly. “That actually makes you among my most reliable friends.”

  “So will you help us?” Amanda asked.

  He didn’t answer directly. “So whoever has her wants to end this standoff and figures giving the feds the fuel cell will do the trick. Same idea Clarisse had. And they probably are thinking the girl is some kind of human shield, protecting us from the army bombing the shit out of this place. I assume she’s in one of the underground tunnels. To be honest, I haven’t looked for her because I like the idea of a human shield. We can use any shield we can get at this point.” He lifted his chin. “I’m inclined to leave her where she is.”

  Amanda took his hand again. “You’re a father, Willum. You know how we feel.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Astarte must be petrified. She’s just a young girl. I know you don’t trust us. But trust your heart. If you do nothing else, if you can hold nothing else dear, at least do what you know is the right thing for Astarte.”

  “The innocence of children,” he whispered. He stared past Cam and Amanda, at the compound he had built and which now entrapped him. Thirty seconds passed, which for Cam seemed like an hour. Finally Willum spoke. “I’m sorry. I’d like to help. But I can’t give the government that fuel cell.”

  Amanda gasped. She dropped to her knees as the gasp turned into quiet sobs.

  “Wait, can you repeat that?” Georgia pushed back her conference room chair and stood, as if standing would help her hear better.

  “I said that the troops are going in tonight,” said Hayek, her boss at ODNI. “Pre-dawn. The White House just signed off.”

  “Are you crazy? Do you know how many people are likely to die?”

  “I can’t give you an exact number, no. But you know how this works: When we get to the point where we know someone is going to die, we always make the choice that it be the other guys.”

  “And how can you be sure someone has to die?”

  “Really, Georgia? Do I need to remind you that someone already did? We know now they are manufacturing dirty bombs inside that compound. Are we just supposed to wait for Smoot to drop one on our troops?”

  “You don’t know they’re making dirty bombs. I told you, that radiation came from an explosion involving the white powder of gold.”

  “Listen, I know you are emotionally invested in this. And our scientists are looking into this white powder stuff. But I gotta tell you, it sounds like hocus-pocus to me. When a crazy man in a fortified bunker who already killed one of our people sets off a dirty bomb, I have to think it’s a real threat.”

  She wanted to scream. Obviously Hayek had been behind a desk too long. She was here, eyes and ears on the ground—why bother having agents in the field if you weren’t going to trust their judgment? “What about the girl?”

  He sighed. “You’ve got all day to find her.”

  “I just don’t see what the big rush is.”

  “Look, they are at the most vulnerable right now. We know they’re expending a ton of resources dealing with the blast and the radiation. Attack while they’re weak.”

  She replayed the statement in her mind. “Wait, how do you know they’re expending a ton of resources?”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s a reasonable conclusion to draw.”

  “But that’s not how you worded it.” She started at the conference room wall. “You have a man inside the compound, don’t you?” Lies hidden inside lies.

  Another pause. “We do. He’s been imbedded there for a couple of years. But that fuel cell is worth billions. We’re worried
he may have gone rogue on us. If we don’t attack now, that fuel cell may slip through our hands forever. We go in tonight.”

  Cam took Amanda by the arm, lifted her gently to her feet and turned to Smoot still seated on the picnic table bench. He played his last card. “Is that all it is, just that you don’t want the feds to have the cell?”

  “Yup. I don’t trust them to use it for the right reasons. Not this government. They have too much power already.” He shook his head. “I got a bad dose of radiation last night. I might be dead in a few months. I don’t want my legacy to be that I’m the guy who sold out to the feds.”

  Cam nodded. “Then I think I have a plan that might work.”

  “Well then let’s hear it.”

  As promised, just after noon Cam’s cell phone rang. He and Amanda had driven down the highway a few miles to ensure cell coverage; Boonie must be using some kind of satellite phone.

  “Before you ask, the girl is fine,” Boonie said. “For now.”

  “Can we talk to her?” Amanda said.

  “No. Tell me you have the fuel cell.”

  Cam spoke. “We don’t have it, but Willum has agreed to give it up in exchange for Astarte’s release.”

  “Did you tell him I was involved?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “Which is why we wouldn’t risk it.”

  “So when can I expect the cell?”

  “In an hour, if you want.”

  He guffawed. “Now I know you’re lying. You must not care too much for the girl.”

  “We’re not lying,” Amanda said.

  “I know the fuel cell got destroyed in the explosion. It’ll take Smoot at least a day to make a new one.”

  “The one that got destroyed was a fake,” Cam said. “The real one is locked away in a safe.” This time Willum’s paranoia played to their advantage.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing here. I’m not giving up the girl until I test that fuel cell. If it’s a fake, I’ll know it. And the girl will suffer.”

 

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