Guarding the Treasure

by J. K. Zimmer

  “Not a problem,” Smith said marked pleasure in his voice.

  Sophie was escorted to a nicely set table. The entire dining room was nice—no, it was beautiful. Soft beige and blue on the walls with long, dark blue drapes on the windows. One of the nicest places she’d been in the castle. She turned to the two women at the table. They didn’t notice her. Their heads were down, focused on their plates. Sophie noticed both women wore copper bracelets like hers, except one had a blue gem about the size of a nickel and the other a red one of the same size. She looked at her wrist—the stone in her bracelet was red.

  She quickly glanced around the dining room again. Her instructions had been not to talk during dinner. None of the women were allowed to talk to each other. There were things she wanted to know, things she had to find out—she had to risk it. She surveyed the staff. They were performing their duties, paying little attention to the tables. Sophie turned and looked into the face of an attractive forty-something woman across the table from her. She was stunned by the woman’s eyes, the deepest emerald green Sophie could imagine. But something was missing. Her eyes had no life, only an empty stare. She seemed totally unaware of her surroundings.

  Sophie cleared her throat. “Hi,” she said quietly, looking to her left then back again.

  The woman’s eyes shifted, stared, and then moved back to her plate. “Hi,” she said from between pressed lips.

  Sophie leaned over the table. “How long have you lived here?” she whispered.

  The woman sat, not saying a word, the now familiar blank stare pasted again on her. She shifted in her chair and then glanced to her right. Sophie followed her eyes and saw a guard entering the room. The woman lowered her head, taking a bite of pasta. Sophie did the same, chewing slowly until the guard made his rounds and left the room again.

  “Can you tell me how long you’ve been at the Regal?” she whispered again.

  The woman hesitated. “I’m not sure,” came softly from her lips.

  Sophie sensed she was telling the truth, and judging by her body language, it had not been an enjoyable stay.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, still probing for answers.

  The woman looked around once again, keeping her head low. “I’m not sure of that, either. All I know is I responded to an offer posted on a website for history fans, and the next thing I knew, my trip to Ireland landed me here.”

  Sophie sat back in her chair. “Professor Smith.”

  The woman raised her head, her eyes widening. “What did you just say?” she asked, now leaning on the table.

  “Professor Smith. Do you know him?”

  “He’s the one who was looking at my historical documents. He’s—” She stopped. A man in scrubs was walking toward their table.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said, touching Sophie’s neck. “I see the two of you have become acquainted. I would like to know what you’ve been whispering about.” His fingers tightened to a firm pinch.

  The woman slowly raised her head, gazing at Sophie.

  Sophie turned her head quickly to break his hold. “We were commenting on the pasta,” she said softly with a smile, hoping to sound convincing.

  The tall, well-built man leaned in close. His smile was perfect, along with his tanned and bulging arms. A perfect specimen of a jerk if she’d ever seen one, she thought, feeling his hot breath on her face.

  “Don’t be offended, but I don’t believe you,” he said, a smirk crossing his lips.

  Sophie squeezed her hands together, trying to stop herself from slapping the smirk right off his face. Then the words “Be submissive,” sounded in her mind. “Three,” she breathed. Sophie looked past the attendant, not making a sound.

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to be spending the evening with Mr. Gipson.” He pulled her chair from the table. “Get up,” he said, firmly gripping her arm. The smirk had faded. “I need to get you ready.”

  Sophie felt her stomach drop. “No, not with him again,” she whispered.

  “What good am I to you if you don’t let me help you? Sophie, don’t forget I am with you through whatever happens. Allow me to work.”

  “Three, you know what he’s going to do to me,” she whispered to the sound in her head.

  “I know what his intent is, dear one.”

  “Keep him from me. Please, Three.”

  “I’ll come for you in twenty minutes, Ms. Hanes,” the man said, standing by the door. Be out of the bathtub and ready to get dressed when I return.”

  Sophie stood, trying to read the man’s eyes. They wanted her to resist, to say refuse to do as he said. She bit her lip, turned, and began to undress. He stood and watched as she got into the tub. She closed her eyes, wanting to be sick but resisting the urge to give in.

  Sophie was wrapped in a towel when the man in scrubs returned with her clothes.

  “I’ve picked this out for you.” He handed her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Put them on.”

  She waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move. “Can you turn around?” she asked.

  He flashed his second jerk grin of the evening. “No, I think I’ll watch. You lied to me earlier, so you can’t be trusted. Get dressed.”

  She dropped her towel to the floor, feeling his eyes skimming her naked body. She pulled the jeans on and slipped the shirt over her head.

  He opened the door. What next? she thought, walking through a series of rooms and narrow halls.

  “You need to wait here,” the man said, opening the door to a small room. Sophie recognized it. It was the room she had been in earlier. She sat on the bed and felt a sudden sting on her wrist. “What in the world was that?” She looked at the skin just under the red jewel. Her skin had boiled up around a red prick mark.

  She put her fingers to her temples. Her head started to feel light, like the night she and Kevin drank that bottle of wine. She smiled. “Kevin,” she said, her tongue starting to feel thick. “I wish you knew where I was. I wish you could help me,” she whispered.

  “He will Sophie,” came a gentle wind in her ears.

  “Three, you’re here?”

  “I have been with you all evening. I will be with you the rest of the evening as well.”

  “I think we’ve got something here, Gates,” said Taylor, looking at his wrist camera. “Do you see what I see, Commander?”

  “Copy that, Taylor. Do the rest of you see the images in the rooms on the west wall?”

  “Copy that,” was heard unanimously from all teams.

  “Good, we need ears turned on.”

  “Ears are on and working sir,” the voice of his technical advisor echoed.

  “All right, now I want each team listening for clues as to who these people are, and remember, check their wrists for copper bracelets. If they’re wearing a bracelet, we need to know the color of the jewels.”

  “Copy that.”

  Gates touched his partner’s arm. “Taylor, did you hear that?”

  “Yeah, Gates, it was a woman’s voice, coming from the first room. She’s talking to someone.”

  “That can’t be—there’s only one image in the room.”

  “I see that, but there are two voices.” Taylor moved to see the picture more clearly. “Kevin, there’s only one. Maybe she’s hallucinating—she’s probably drugged.”

  The door to the room they were monitoring suddenly opened.

  A hand gripped her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Sophie could hear a man’s voice but couldn’t focus on his face. They walked through an outer door. The air was crisp but felt good as it struck her face. She looked up—the moon was bright, but not bright enough for her to make out who was dragging her behind him. They stopped.

  Hot words hit her ear. “Are you seeing double, Ms. Hanes?” He laughed.

  She struggled once more, squinting hard to make out the man’s face. Her eyes wouldn’t focus, but the voice, she knew the voice. Think Sophie. Then it hit her—it was Gipson. He was the man she had been with b
efore. Sick. She had gotten sick. She tried to shake her head. It didn’t move. Why was her mind registering at a snail’s pace? What was happening to her sense of reasoning, and where was he taking her?

  He leaned once more to her ear. “Let’s take a little walk, Sophie,” he said, giving her arm a hard jerk.

  She felt her legs stiffen and then move with his persistent pull to her arm. Her mind moved, too, with each step into a deep, dense, frightening fog.

  “Commander, we have a visual on two people—a man and a woman just leaving the building from a northeast door.”

  “Put a team on them but keep your distance. We don’t want anyone to know we’re here just yet.”

  “Copy that, sir. They’re proceeding northwest around the building. Losing visual, sir.”

  “We’ve got them, Commander,” Gates said, night vision goggles to his eyes. “No,” he whispered.

  “What do you have, Gates? Gates, do you still have a visual?”

  “Ah yeah, Commander, I have a visual.”

  “Good, we need to find out if the woman is one of the four we’re looking for. I know it’s difficult, maybe impossible, but can you see the jewels in the bracelet?”

  “Let me check,” he said as he lowered the glasses. There it was on her left wrist. He could also see the grip the man had on Sophie. A fire started to burn in his gut as he tried to make a positive ID on the man. It was Gipson. Kevin knew what he was up to and also knew he had to stop him before Sophie became another one of his victims.

  “Gates, do you have anything?”

  “Yes, Commander, I can see that she has a bracelet, but I can’t be sure of the jewels.”

  The communication went quiet for a few seconds. “We are going to assume she is one of our women, gentlemen. Do not attempt to rescue. Your job is to maintain visual contact. We need to locate the others before we intercept. Is that clear to all teams?”

  “Copy that, Commander,” came from each duo.

  “Team two; I want you to follow the man and woman. Stay in touch with the command post. You are now in alert mode. Got that, Taylor?”

  Kevin grabbed the coat of his team leader, pulling him right into his line of vision. “No, Taylor, I think we need to follow the two in the yard.”

  “What are you doing, Gates?” Taylor said, pushing him back. “Get your hands off me.”

  Kevin stepped aside, and Taylor stepped in, nose to nose. His pupils were dilated, and his fists ready for action.

  “Are you crazy, Gates?”

  Kevin looked away and then back at his partner, “Taylor, that woman is Sophie, and it’s Gipson who’s got her.”

  Taylor changed the channel on his radio so no one could hear. “Are you serious, Gates?”

  “Dead serious. It’s Sophie, all right, and Gipson had a hard grip on her left arm. Listen, I know Gipson better than anyone, and he has a sick obsession with beautiful women.” Kevin rubbed his face. “He likes to hurt them before he—” Kevin stopped and focused hard on Taylor’s eyes. “Before he rapes them.”

  Taylor looked toward the yard. “If she’s been drugged, she doesn’t stand a chance against what he’s going to do.”

  Kevin looked into the eyes of his team leader. “I need to be there for her.”

  Taylor took a deep breath and exhaled. “You American guys are hard to understand sometimes,” he said with a laugh. “Follow my lead, Gates.”

  He readjusted his radio. “Men, there’s been a change of plans. I want you two to stay and get a positive ID on the jewels on those bracelets of the women inside. Gates and I are going to follow the two in the yard. Men, we need to work fast. There’s a strong possibility that the woman we saw with the man in the yard may be one of our victims. Remember, the commander said we rescue concurrently, so that means we all need to see red.”

  “Copy that, Taylor, we’ll monitor with ears and become more aggressive in detecting the color of those jewels.”

  “We’ll stay in touch by radio.” Taylor looked at Gates, “You ready?”

  “Let’s do this,” he said, following Taylor north to a line of trees.

  “I need to stop,” Sophie said, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.

  The grip on her arm moved to her throat. “You’ll stop when I say.” The man’s breath felt on her like the fire of a dragon.

  She looked through blurred eyes into Gipson’s contorted face. His eyes were a glassy red, and he reeked with the smell of liquor. Her mind raced back to the diary and the description of those who had abused Anya. “No, please don’t,” she said, almost collapsing. Calmness came gently to her body. It was Three—she could sense him. “No, don’t do this,” she said, still looking into Gipson’s bloodshot eyes.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled, his hand slipping from around her throat.

  She fell to the ground, able to see around her with the light of the moon.

  Gipson stood looking down at her, his body tense, his breathing labored. He wasn’t moving, just staring at her.

  Sophie pushed herself up against a tree.

  “What is it about you, Hanes?” Gipson yelled, falling carelessly in front of her. He reached with both hands to grab her shoulders but couldn’t. It was as if something was blocking his attempt.

  She could see the anger carving deep lines on his face. His teeth were clenched, his hands in fists. “I’m going to have you!” He grabbed her shirt.

  Sophie heard a rip, and then felt the cold, damp air on her now exposed skin. Just as she reached to cover herself, a sudden heaviness hit her body. It was Gipson; he had thrown himself on her, causing her to lose her breath.

  “Commander, we’ve made a positive ID. The jewels in the bracelets of the three women in the wall chambers are red.”

  “Good work, but there're four chambers. We’re missing one. Taylor, what have you found?”

  “Sir, we lost visual on the man and woman but are continuing to track slowly to the north.”

  “Find them, Taylor. We need to know if she’s the last woman being held against her will. We need to make a move soon.”

  “Copy that, Commander.”

  “Gates, we need to split up but within visual range of each other.”

  “Copy that, Taylor,” he said, looking toward the wooded area. “See that line of barbed bushes just before the stretch of evergreens begins?”

  “Copy that.”

  “I’ll go just inside the heaviest grove of bushes to the north.”

  “Copy that, Gates. Hey, make sure you stay on the north and west sides of the trees for cover—and so I can see you.”

  “Got that, Taylor.”

  “Good, let’s go,” Taylor said.

  Gates stepped into the wooded area, lowering himself in front of the thicket. He stopped. It had suddenly gotten darker. He looked up. The tops of the trees formed a thick leafy canopy, blocking most of the moonlight. He continued in, stepping carefully, trying not to break branches or snap twigs that may alarm Gipson into doing something fatal to Sophie. He went low, crawling through the barbs on his belly; head high enough to allow his goggles to function properly. The clearing was just ahead. Gipson was somewhere in here—but where? Where would he have taken Sophie? Then the words of the diary rang in his ears. “Like the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my child among the sons.”

  “An apple tree in the forest?” he repeated out loud. Kevin stopped once more. “Hey, Taylor,” he whispered into his headset. “Do you remember that section in the diary you read about an apple tree growing in a forest?”

  “Yeah, it was in the evergreens. I thought it was a strange place for a fruit tree—they’re usually in an open area, growing with other fruit trees in an orchard. So what are you thinking?”

  “I’m going to look for an apple tree. If Theresa’s right about the diary being a map, then that may be a clue.”

  “Good work. Just don’t get out of eyesight, you copy?”

  Gates walked steadily, rifle in
hand, his every step lit by his night vision goggles. “Where are you, Sophie?” slipped from his lips but not loud enough to break the constant cadence of the crickets and other night insects.

  “There it is.” There was an apple orchard twenty yards to the north according to the calculations on his glasses. The moon was shining through the trees to the forest floor, exposing an area that had obviously been cleared for the fruit trees.

  “Taylor,” he whispered. “I’ve got a visual on two people.” Kevin’s eyes locked on what he had most dreaded seeing. “This isn’t good, this isn’t good at all,” he said, leaning down against a tree. “Taylor, it's Gipson, and he’s got Sophie on the ground.” He turned away. “Get a grip on your emotions, Kevin,” he told himself. He felt the blood careening through his veins to every part of his body, rage building inside. He rubbed the beads of sweat from his face.

  “Copy that, Gates. Hold on, I’m on my way in.”

  “Taylor, he’s beating her. I can see his fists. I can’t sit here and watch this happen. I’m going in.”

  “Negative on that, Gates, hold your position,” Taylor’s voice shot across the airwaves, stern and commanding. “Gates! Gates, do you copy?” There was a long silence. “Come on, wait for me,” Taylor said, speeding up to an all-out run to get to his partner’s side.

  Kevin had moved in close. He wanted his shot to be fatal. “Copy that, Taylor. I’ve got a clean shot at Gipson,” he said, securing the crosshairs on Gipson’s head.

  “No! Gates don’t! I see you. Hold your fire. We need to stay within the chain of command,” he said, knowing his partner teetered on the edge. “Come on buddy, hold on.”

  Kevin had his sights set to put the bullet through Gipson’s head. He had to get him off Sophie.

  “I have seen the wicked in great power spread himself like a great bay tree. He will not succeed to death.”

  Kevin lowered his rifle, “What?” He looked around.

  “Gates, who are you talking to?”

  Kevin ignored his question and pointed his rifle in the direction of Gipson a second time.