A Dubious Race: The Phoenician Stones (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 14)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  Steve ushered the three unhappy people into the bedroom and locked the door. He returned to the table. “Why did you have to do that?” he asked.

  “Because there are several parts to the plan and I don’t want them to know. I only want them to know their part.” Banyon reasoned.

  “Well, let’s hear your plan then,” Heather spoke up.

  Banyon explained his plan. Some people were upset, some were happy and some were not sure. It all came down to the vote.

  ***

  In the end, the fact that Banyon had a detailed plan won everyone over and his proposal passed with a unanimous vote. He told them to not mention it to the others and sent Steve to let them out of the bedroom.

  As soon as they returned to the dining area, Previne announced that it was time for the Patel clan to leave. After tearful goodbyes, the Patel clan got back into their car and left for the airport. Everyone stood on the porch and waved goodbye.

  Previne’s last words as she got into the car were a request. “Don’t forget us, and please come and visit?”

  “We’ll do that,” Banyon replied.

  Steam was coming out of Loni’s ears.

  ***

  “What should we do now?” Mandy asked. “It’s well after eleven o’clock and there is nothing more to do until the morning.”

  “If any of you want to sleep, find a place and bed down,” Banyon said. “Loni has a possible concussion and I need to keep her awake all night.”

  “Frankly, I’m starving,” Steve announced. “Let’s make something to eat.”

  “I’m staying up with you and Loni,” Heather said as she looked at Steve.

  “I guess that I’m staying up too,” he added.

  “I’ve got some steaks in the freezer,” Joey acknowledged. “We have the makings for enough salad for everyone too.”

  “Sounds, great,” Banyon declared.

  “I also have some board games we can play, if you want,” Joey noted.

  “It’ll be like camping out,” Kayah stated happily.

  “Perfect,” Lisa spoke sarcastically.

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Joey and Banyon cooked the steaks. There wasn’t enough meat for everyone to have a whole steak, so they voted on who would split two pieces of meat. Steve, Mandy, Loni and Banyon wound up with a half each. Heather and Kayah made the salad while Steve and Mandy set the table. Loni, who feigned a headache, sat in the one available chair and waited for her food. Loni didn’t do domestic work. Lisa sulked on the couch.

  “We need to feed Bobby too,” Kayah said. “I’ll give up half my steak.”

  “Okay,” Banyon replied as he sweated over the stovetop grill. “But make sure he is still restrained. He’s too dangerous to be left free to eat.”

  Joey and Steve volunteered to bring him to the table. Heather went with them with her gun. They carried him in his chair and sat him at the table. When Heather removed his duct tape, he started to threaten everyone. Loni scowled, stood up, moved over to him, and slapped his face hard.

  “You have two choices,” she said maliciously. “Sit here with duct tape on your filthy mouth and watch us eat, or be silent and eat something. Nod your head if you are going to be quiet.” Bobby nodded and didn’t make another sound.

  Dinner went well. Banyon had just finished his meat when his phone sounded. He excused himself from the table and went outside to answer the call.

  “What’s up Timmy,” he spoke into the device.

  “I found out who Dr. Hage has been talking to at the Denver NSA facility,” he said in the calmest voice that Banyon had ever heard from him. He glanced at his watch and realized that the geek had been working on Banyon’s projects since about ten o’clock in the morning. It was around midnight in Chicago.

  “It was a woman named Cindy Creighton. She is the director of the research center,” Timmy said wearily. The name surprised Banyon. He had met her before, but she had said she was nothing more than a Russian translator. She had been added to the gift squad for the Lake Mead mystery. I wonder if the squad knew that the director was with them then?

  “Thanks, Timmy. That’s all I need. You go home and get some sleep now,” Banyon said gently. “But I’ll need your help in the morning. What time will you be in?” he asked.

  “I’ll be here by 7:30 a.m.” the geek replied. “Tell me what you want and I’ll get started on it as soon as I come in tomorrow.” Banyon explained what he wanted.

  He ended the call and addressed Wolf.

  “Can you research her now?” Wolf needed someone to tell him where to look for the leak. He could not follow emails. Timmy had accomplished that.

  “I’m working on her right now,” Wolf said. “It appears that she was the one who sent the gift squad after the Vril. The communication device you found on Mt. Charleston runs on Vril, so she understands its worth.”

  “And she got the information from Dr. Hage, right?”

  “Once I made the connection, I monitored both of them and found that he unwittingly sent her a translation of the history on the stones which came from his sessions with Joey Brownwater.”

  “So the leak didn’t come from Lisa’s colleagues at UNLV then?”

  “They have been completely loyal to her and have not mentioned the Cherokee stones to anyone as far as I can tell.”

  “Good,” Banyon responded. “We already know they haven’t sent any emails. Timmy found that out for me earlier today. Is there anything else new?”

  “Well, there has been a slight complication,” the spirit replied.

  “Uh-oh!” Banyon muttered.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Meanwhile, the roundup of the Goblin network was proceeding smoothly. Colonel Bragg and his four truckloads of Rangers had a busy night. He was given directions by a controller located in Washington D.C. — he plotted out each takedown. The controller was provided with the exact location of each target by another technician who identified their positions by using the targets’ cell phone chips.

  They had captured all the men on the West side of Las Vegas and now were working the North side. They had already filled one truck with Goblin prisoners. Colonel Bragg sent it to Area 51. A replacement truck with ten more Rangers was sent from the base as a replacement. Every few minutes the Army Rangers went into harm’s way. But they didn’t complain — they were doing what they were trained to do. Take down assholes.

  The men captured at the Barstow warehouse were loaded into Army trucks which were sent from Las Vegas. The Navy SEALS supervised. Those prisoners were now headed for Area 51 as well. Tony Ryder was among that group. The Navy SEALS were then ordered to set charges and blow up the warehouse once they had cleaned out any important documents found there.

  “These guys must have really pissed someone off,” one of the SEALS said to another man as they set the charges. But he didn’t say that to the major. He followed directions just like he was supposed to do.

  The total number of captured Goblin people soon stood at 64. There were 38 racists left to detain, but they all weren’t in Las Vegas.

  Six men lived in the Los Angeles area. The Barstow warehouse was roughly equally distant from Los Angeles and Las Vegas, so some of the Goblin employees lived there.

  Fortunately, Marlene had more than enough resources in the big city of Los Angeles to initiate a takedown properly. She was able to use Homeland Security and FBI personal for the round up. The Los Angeles prisoners were on a helicopter to Area 51 by midnight. Nobody had been tipped off and not a shot was fired, so far, during all the captures in both cities. Not even the Goblin people were stupid enough to resist ten or more laser guided weapons pointed at their foreheads.

  The remaining Goblin people were in the capital of the country, Washington D.C. There were two Senators, a General named George Pickering and the Chairman of the Board of Goblin International, James Ryder. Marlene dispatched five-man FBI teams to pick up each of them. It seemed like an easy task, but it soon became complicated. General
Pickering had gone to Vice Admiral Leghorn’s office in the Pentagon and discovered there were forensics people crawling all over the place.

  He placed calls to the two Senators. They were both friends and served on the arms committee. He warned them that something was wrong and they needed to run. He didn’t bother to call James Ryder as he was more concerned about his own survival. He believed that Ryder’s phone would already be tapped anyway. General Pickering then fled the Pentagon and disposed of his phone in a trash can outside the front door. He had an escape plan in place and activated it.

  ***

  Colton Banyon got a phone call from the White House shortly after midnight Pacific Time. To his surprise, it wasn’t the President, it was Marlene Moore.

  “Colt,” she started. “We have lost track of the two Senators and General Pickering. They have either lost or disposed of their cell phones. We have checked their homes and it looks like they may have been tipped off and are on the run. Can you help find them? The President asked me to call you, but he is too busy to talk to you right now.”

  Banyon was immediately concerned that the President had told Marlene about his power. He had an agreement with the President that he would help him anytime he was needed. The President had agreed that he would never tell anyone about what Banyon was capable of doing. Otherwise Banyon’s life would be ruined and he would have to go into hiding. He dreaded to think about that.

  “What can I do?” Banyon shot back at her. He had been sitting on the floor in the ranch and pulled himself to his feet. The other people in the room stared at him, so he turned and walked outside.

  “Well, we are scanning street cameras, ATMs, all the public transportation facilities, and every feed that we can. They’ve dropped off the grid, but I thought that maybe your geek could help, can he?” she asked. “He seems to have more insight into computer technology than we have in finding people.”

  “Who do you want first?” He asked as relief spread through his body. He realized that Marlene believed that his information came from Timmy.

  “General Pickering — he is military and can probably hide pretty deeply,” she quickly replied.

  “What about James Ryder? Is he missing too?” Banyon inquired.

  “Not exactly,” she replied. “I don’t think we need your help with him.”

  “What happened?” Banyon asked.

  “I don’t have time to go into that right now,” Marlene replied. “I’ll explain after this is over, but right now we need to find the traitors.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you back in five minutes,” he replied.

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  The reason that Marlene didn’t want to discuss James Ryder was because he was dead and there was some question about how he died. There had been shots fired by her people and that had launched an immediate investigation, especially since James Ryder was the prime suspect in a major conspiracy. She wondered if he had been killed to keep secrets and the identities of addition people involved in the affair. She was afraid that some of her people were part of the hidden Nazi organization.

  She had been appointed as the Secretary of Homeland Security by the President because he knew that he could trust her. The previous Homeland leader had been a member of the Effort. Marlene had spent the last few years cleaning house in the huge department, but it was possible that some of the Effort people were still hidden in the organization.

  ***

  The attempted capture of James Ryder had seemed routine in the beginning. The five Homeland Security agents had arrived at Ryder’s mansion and were greeted by an unsuspecting butler.

  “The master is in the solarium with two additional guests,” the butler informed the agents after they showed him their badges.

  “Point us in that direction,” the agent ordered. “We’ll find our way.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m under strict orders to not disturb them,” the white-gloved butler said formally.

  The agents drew out their guns. This frightened the butler. “Point the way and go pack a bag. Your employer won’t have need of your services any longer,” another agent said like a threat.

  “You’ve come to arrest him?” the butler asked. “Do you have a warrant?”

  “We’re Homeland security, we don’t need a warrant when it comes to domestic terrorism,” the agent replied. “Do you want to be arrested too?

  “Heavens no,” the servant exclaimed and threw up his hands. “I’m just wondering why you guys took so long to arrest him. He is a very evil man who thinks he is the master of the world. What has he done?”

  “Just point the way and go to your room,” the agent replied. “We’ll need to talk to you later.” The butler didn’t hesitate.

  “Go straight back and through the great room. There is a door to the solarium. But I must warn you, it is all glass and they will see you coming. The two men with the master are armed and are even shadier than him.”

  “Thank you for the information,” the agent responded. He and his four other men set off to capture James Ryder.

  ***

  James Ryder looked around his solarium. At the age of seventy-five he no longer pleasured in the fleshly things in life. He had given up drinking, chasing women, fighting, smoking and even meat. His passion was raising plants and his solarium was abundant with many exotic and unique plants which he tended to personally. His only remaining other passion was running the “Son of Izzak” organization which was now called the Effort due to the good work of his two house guests. The three of them sat in wicker chairs in the middle of the indoor jungle — drinking and talking.

  “We should be hearing from my son Tony about our success any minute now,” James Ryder said. “Let’s toast to that.” He raised his glass of club soda. The other two men drank schnapps, a lot of it.

  In broken English the guest named Helmuet toasted. “Long live the third Reich.” He was under thirty and very fit with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was an enforcer for the Effort back home in Germany.

  The other guest was called Heinz. He as much older and wore his black hair slicked-back. While he was not in good shape, his eyes bore the intensity of an intellectual. He was clearly the leader. He gave an additional toast. “To our glorious future, may we reign for a thousand years.” He then tossed back his drink.

  “When will you head back to Germany?” James Ryder inquired. The old man was tiring of his guests. They had stayed at his mansion in Washington D.C. since the last meeting. He wanted them gone.

  “Ja, we’ll leave tomorrow,” Helmut replied. “We’ve much arranging to do in our country. The Effort is once again strong there and there is much activity. You know, the government has even agreed to allow Mein Kampf to be printed again.”

  “Well, we will soon have all the resources to make it even stronger,” James Ryder said as his next toast.

  “Was ist los?” Helmut suddenly spewed out. He wanted to know what was going on because he spied five men in suits heading towards the solarium.

  “What?” James Ryder yelped and turned to look.

  “They have hand guns,” Heinz cried out.

  “Did you sell us out old man,” Helmut screamed at James Ryder. He drew out his own weapon. He pointed at his host.

  “I’ve no idea why there are armed men in my house.” James Ryder explained with a growing fear. He quickly wondered if his son’s mission had failed.

  “We can’t be caught,” Heinz wailed. “We have too much information about our organization.”

  “And so do you old man. Sorry old friend,” Helmut spat out at James Ryder. He then put three bullets into Ryder’s chest — killing him instantly. The two Germans turned and fled towards the back door of the long building just as the Homeland Security agents passed through the glass door into the solarium. The agents pursued them.

  Heinz and Helmut shot their guns over their shoulders as they ran. Bullets were now flying by them on both sides, chopping up the exotic foliage. Helmut s
uddenly felt the searing pain of a bullet as it hit his left shoulder. The door was still twenty feet away. Heinz was ten feet behind him and struggling to keep up. Helmut didn’t think they both would reach the opening. He turned, pointed his gun at the startled Heinz, and shot him. He crashed through the glass door without opening it and scrambled over the estate wall just as the agents reached the outside. Two agents went over the wall after him — but he was gone.

  “What the hell happened?” The out of breath lead agent asked. “This was supposed to be a non-violent takedown.”

  “The one that got away shot both of the other men,” another replied. “Why?”

  “Probably because he thought he could get away if he was alone,” another agent figured.

  “What’s the status of the other two men,” the Homeland Security leader inquired into his ear piece.

  “They’re both dead,” was the reply from an agent inside who had been tasked with staying with the wounded men.

  “This is going to be a big problem,” the leader said.

  “We’d better call it in.”

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  The capture of General George Pickering was the most difficult takedown of the night. Banyon called Marlene back and told her that his geek had found a property that General Pickering owned under an assumed name. It was a small, two-story boat house located on Chesapeake Bay near Annapolis. He warned her that there was probably a speedboat docked below the cabin and that the general was probably armed. The lie was very smooth.

  Wolf had told Banyon that the general had a complete arsenal in the boat house including grenades and two hand-held rocket launchers. Wolf had watched the man prepare for a siege.

  “Can I suggest sending in SWAT,” Banyon said pleadingly. “He could have weapons hidden there.”

  “I think that is a wise idea,” Marlene responded already knowing what had happened at James Ryder’s home. Wolf had explained the murder to Banyon. He also had a tab on the Nazi Helmut — but Banyon and Wolf agreed that it was best to hold that back for now.