The Secret of the Stones

by Ernest Dempsey

  Allyson was talking on her cell. “Yeah, we have a man with a gunshot wound at the Beacon Tabernacle. Send an ambulance right away. He’s in the front of the building in a room off near the stage entrance. Address? I don’t know the address. Just hurry.” She ended her call and rejoined the group.

  “Where the raven and the dove meet,” the old man continued. “That is where you will find it. The first chamber…it…” his eyes grew wide with fear, and he gripped Sean‘s arms tightly. “You must not allow them to find the next stone.”

  “But where is it? Where is the stone?”

  “The raven…and the dove face each other. Let their stones guide you…they meet in the middle. The altar…you must find the…key. Climb the stairs...of Heaven.”

  With that, the man’s head went limp, and his eyes closed. Joe laid the gray head down gently on the floor. “Poor old guy.”

  “He’s not dead.” Sean pointed at the bony chest slowly rising and falling. “Just unconscious. There’s nothing we can do for him now. Cops should be here soon. If we don’t get out of here now, we may never catch those guys.”

  “We can’t just leave him here, Sean.”

  “Allyson called an ambulance. They will arrive any minute. If the police get here before we’re gone, we will get arrested and have no chance of saving Tommy.”

  Joe seemed to consider it for a second.

  “Look, Mac. You heard what the man said. He wants us to find the chamber. We have to go.”

  Nodding, Sean’s friend stood up, a look of resolve on his face. “Let’s go get ‘em then.”

  “Right.”

  The two men darted to the door with Allyson right behind. Sean eased open the heavy portal carefully. The asphalt was empty except for the beat-up Silverado and what they assumed to be the sexton’s car.

  Once again, the men who’d abducted Tommy had slipped through their fingers.

  “Got any idea where they went?” Allyson asked as she put away her gun.

  “Yeah, I do now.”

  49

  Nevada

  A handful of afternoon guests sat busily on the veranda of the palatial mansion. They chatted about investments, the economy, and the various properties they had acquired or sold in recent weeks.

  Hardly a hot-dog-and-beer crowd, most sipped on rare scotch, top-shelf vodka, and well-aged whiskey. Smoke from a few cigars wisped around, spiraling up and into the open air of dusk.

  The host of the party stood near the outdoor bar sipping on a glass of twelve-year-old Jameson Irish whiskey. It wasn’t the most expensive of drinks, but it was by far his favorite. Smooth and warm, it was his regular drink of choice.

  He had been chatting with his colleagues, but something was keeping him on edge. In fact, he’d probably had a few drinks too many, and the one in his hand wasn’t going down slowly either.

  It had been a few hours since he had heard anything from his contacts, and the anticipation was driving him mad.

  For ten years, he had searched for something that would help him find the trail to the Golden Chambers. A decade of frustration and disappointment had almost caused him to give up hope.

  Then, from the ashes rose the most random of opportunities. An archaeologist in Georgia discovered the first stone, the beginning of the trail…

  He’d met with the man several weeks before and discussed a financial proposal so he could purchase the piece. Thomas Schultz had hardly been accommodating. Whether it was foolish pride or haughty defiance, he had been unwilling to part with the object.

  The man had made a second offer, an astounding amount of money even for someone with the means of wealth that Schultz possessed, and still, the proposal was denied.

  So he left Schultz’s office empty handed and angry. He had worked too hard and spent too much time and capital to be denied by some insolent archaeologist.

  Indeed, Schultz probably did not even realize the entire story behind the Golden Chambers. There were only a few on the planet that knew the beginning part of the legend. But the end, that was what the old man was truly interested in. The gold itself was but a small portion of the true reward that waited at the end.

  Most of his guests didn’t even notice him slip away when the cell phone in his smoking jacket began to ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Ulrich is out of control, sir. He is leaving a blood trail in his wake, and I fear his recklessness is drawing too much attention. I recommend you let us intervene.” The voice of the woman on the other end was concise and direct.

  The old man twisted his head around in both directions to make certain no one was listening. “Where is he now?”

  “On the interstate, headed south. I’m not sure where they are going though.”

  He pondered the situation. Ulrich had become sloppy. Then again, he knew this would happen. He would never invest so much without doing his research first. The blond contractor had served his purpose thus far. “Continue following them. Watch the situation closely. If it gets out of hand, you know what to do.”

  “Sir, I highly advise…”

  “I know what you advise,” he cut her off, “but they are up to something. Follow them, and see what it is.”

  He paused for a moment before adding, “Are the other players still in the game?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Let them continue on as well. They may still be useful after all if Ulrich becomes more of a nuisance.”

  “Anything else, sir?”

  “No. Keep me updated.”

  “Of course.”

  He ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. For a few seconds, he stood by a stone pedestal that supported a bronze urn. Things were going well, almost exactly as planned.

  A new guest arrived through the side door of the adjacent room, and he decided it was time to go back to being sociable. With a big swig, he finished off his whiskey and headed back into the gathering.

  For the moment, the pawns had to play the game by themselves.

  50

  Southeastern Tennessee

  “Why did you shoot that old man? Are you crazy?” Tommy yelled at Ulrich, who swerved the giant SUV through the country roads toward the interstate.

  The large guard sat in the back with the angry prisoner.

  Tommy continued the tirade, “He didn’t do anything! And you killed him!” He started to reach an arm forward toward the blond driver when he felt a sudden thud across the side of his face. The world spun for a moment from the shock of the punch and his jaw throbbed as he curled up in the corner of the seat.

  “Your sentiment is touching, Thomas. Do not think you are by any means safe at this point. Remember what I will do if you do not cooperate.”

  Through the ringing in his ears, Tommy got the message. Sean’s parents could still be in danger, an element to this whole scenario he, unfortunately, continued to forget.

  The guard reached over, about to smack Schultz back to a more alert state, when Ulrich waved him off. “That’s enough.”

  He nodded his head slowly.

  “Good. Now, what I need to know is, where should we go next? Hmm?”

  Tommy’s voice was low as he sat up straight, eyeing the guard. “How should I know? You killed the guy that could have had the information.”

  “Now, now, Thomas. You don’t know that he died. And you need to dwell on the things that can help. Tell me, what do those Bible verses have to do with any of this?”

  For a long minute, Tommy stared out the window of the truck as they sped along the rolling countryside. He looked at the other cars that passed by, knowing the passengers had no idea what was going on inside the black SUV. His mind came back to the present. Right now, he needed to focus.

  “I can only think of one place that has any sort of correlation with the clues at the church.”

  “And that is?”

  “It will take us a while to get there.”

  “How far?”

  “Probably four hours at be
st.”

  Ulrich seemed to contemplate how long it would be. “You are certain?”

  “As certain as I can be. I didn’t really get a lot of time to investigate back there, what with all the shooting and using me as a human shield and all.”

  “What is this place?” He ignored Tommy’s sarcasm.

  “It’s called Rock Eagle, down in East Georgia. That seems like the only place that would match up with the clues of the raven and the dove.” He laughed, “Actually, I’m a little annoyed that I didn’t think of it before. It seems kind of obvious now.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because Rock Eagle and its sister site, Rock Hawk, are the only stone effigies of their kind in the United States. They are essentially two giant birds made out of piled rocks.” He paused for a moment and released an exhausted sigh. “You’ll see when we get there.”

  Then Tommy laid his head back against the headrest of the seat in an effort to relax the pain pounding from his jaw. Ulrich watched Tommy out of the corner of the rearview mirror, wary of his every movement.

  51

  Southeastern Tennessee

  The phone only rang twice on the other end before Sean heard, “Wyatt, you better have a good explanation for all this!”

  Sean smirked, “I take it you’re at the church, then, Detective?”

  “Yeah, we’re at the church. It’s a bloody mess over here. Got an unidentified corpse at the base of the stage in the sanctuary and a church worker in the hospital. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “The corpse shot at me first,” Sean replied plainly. “How is the old man?”

  “Critical but stable. Docs think he will be okay. Lost a lot of blood, but the bullet missed his vitals. He’s hurt, but he’ll live.”

  “That’s good to hear. I guess they shot him to slow us down. They were gone once we got to the parking lot.”

  Trent’s voice took on a quieter tone, “Look, Sean, there’s a lot of people that still want to ask you some questions. FBI’s here now. I’m way out of my backyard at this point. I got no jurisdiction at all.”

  “So, do you still think I am the one going around killing people?”

  “No. I know you’re innocent. We saw the security tapes from the museum. But you still need you to turn yourself in. There’s a dead man here that you did kill, and with your help we might be able to find the others and bring this to an end.”

  “Sorry, Detective. No can do. We don’t have much time. Jurgenson and his other thug are on their way south. I think they are headed to a place called Rock Eagle down in Southeastern Georgia.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Kinda difficult to explain at this point. I really don’t think you would understand.”

  “Sean. Listen to me. These guys are obviously dangerous. Let me help you…”

  “If you want to help, find out who is behind this,” he responded with clenched teeth.

  “I’m working on it. The guy in the video footage from the museum doesn’t come up on any of our known databases. This Jurgenson’s a ghost.”

  Sean considered this last bit of information. He’d run into men like this before, assassins, hit men, contract killers. They come by many names. Sometimes, they were sloppy. Usually, they were very good. He was unsure which category this Jurgenson fell into. So far, the guy’s only mistake had been ignoring the presence of the security cameras in the museum. Maybe he’d not even thought that such a small place would have measures like that in place. Either way, the man was lethal. But something was making him impatient, a fact Wyatt might be able to use to his advantage. Or so he hoped.

  And then there was the other component of this mysterious man’s existence. If he was a hired gun, as Sean suspected, that meant that someone else was pulling the strings. This was somewhat more disconcerting. Usually, even if the contractor was taken out, the guy behind it all simply disappeared, leaving the trail cold. Just like with the assassination of John F. Kennedy. No one will ever know who really ordered the hit. One thing is certain, though, Lee Harvey Oswald was no mastermind.

  Joe changed lanes, glancing back in the rearview mirror to make sure no one was following. A white luxury sedan passed in the far right lane and continued farther and farther ahead.

  “Sean, you there?” Morris’s voice snapped him back to the moment.

  “I don’t think Jurgenson is the one calling the shots.”

  “No?” Trent sounded surprised.

  “Nah. The way that this whole thing has been going down, it makes me think he’s just the manager of the team.”

  “But not the owner?”

  “Right.”

  “So who is?”

  Sean could tell the cop’s voice was being kept a little low. He imagined an entire crime scene investigation going on in the background. Trent must have surely been huddled in a corner of the church somewhere so no one else could hear the conversation.

  “I’m not sure. There are only a few people in the world who even know about the legend of the lost chambers. Until this whole thing started, I didn’t really know much. And most of what I knew about it came from Tommy.”

  “You said a few people. Who else would fit into that category?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure that out, but no one comes to mind. Tommy never did any presentations about the chambers story. It was something that he and I talked about in private. He was always really secretive about his research on it, too. I can tell you this though: Tommy put his life into that search. He wants to find the lost chambers more than anything else. It’s completely absorbed him.”

  “Not one person comes to mind that he may have been in contact with?”

  For a moment, Sean looked out the window of the truck, watching the fiery colors of the forest blur by. “There was one guy that I saw leaving Tommy’s office once, about six months ago. I had never seen him before. Now that I think of it, I don’t think I ever saw him after that either. He was an older gentleman, walked with a fancy-looking cane and dressed in a pinstriped Armani three piece. Not sure why it was, but he had a scowl on his face, like someone had just stolen his last piece of candy.”

  “Didn’t get his name?”

  “I went in and found Tommy sitting at his desk with his hands crossed. Guess he was thinking pretty hard about whatever he and the old guy had discussed. But he never told me what they talked about or who the man was.”

  The detective silently contemplated the scenario and the few details they had.

  Sean decided to go on. “All I know is that I have a chance to stop these guys, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

  Resignation came from the other end. “I guess there’s no changing your mind, Sean. You know that I could call the police down where you’re headed.”

  “I realize that. But you know as well as I do if you get other authorities involved, we may never get Tommy back.”

  Morris contemplated the problem. “Ok, Sean. I will give you a little more time, twenty-four hours. But that’s it. After that, I want your full cooperation with this. You hear me?”

  “Yeah. I hear ya.”

  “Good. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The line went dead.

  52

  Southeastern Tennessee

  “You sure that was a smart thing to do, tellin’ that cop where we’re headed?” Joe cast his friend a skeptical look in the mirror. “I mean, why wouldn’t he just set up a road block and bring us in?”

  “I don’t think he’ll do that.”

  “Well, why did you tell him where we were going then?”

  Sean smiled, “Because, Mac, we might need some help when this thing goes down.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.” Joe cast a glance at Allyson, who had remained somewhat silent the last few minutes. “Isn’t there someone you can call on this? I mean, you work for Axis, right? Can’t they do something?
”

  “I’m not sure what they would do at this point. The FBI is already involved. As Sean knows, our agency tries to keep a very low profile. I’m afraid we might be on our own in this one.”

  Sean nodded in agreement.

  “On our own again, huh?” Joe echoed. “Great. So, tell me something, Sean, how did you figure Rock Eagle was the next place we need to go?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind before. It seemed like the only logical spot on the continent. But what really gave it away was when the sexton started talking about an altar.”

  “An altar?”

  “Yeah. The history of Rock Eagle and Rock Hawk is a pretty big mystery, as I’m sure you know.”

  This time Joe nodded. “Yep, those are a couple of odd spots for sure.”

  Allyson was confused. “What is this place you guys are talking about?”

  “Rock Eagle and Rock Hawk are located down in East Georgia, fairly close to Augusta,” Sean explained. “The names eagle and hawk refer to two giant stone effigies that are in the shape of birds. Rock Hawk was built out of a darker stone, so it appears almost black. A few miles away from there, Rock Eagle was constructed out of white stones. They are actually quite amazing designs.”

  “So what does this have to do with the Golden Chambers?”

  “Well, the riddle mentions a raven and a dove. Maybe whoever gave the name Rock Eagle and Rock Hawk was just trying to help keep the mystery hidden.”

  “Makes sense,” Joe added. “I’d never actually considered that before. And the altar?”

  Sean smiled. “Glad you remembered. When the first excavations were done at the sites, researchers believed that the stone mounds were some sort of mass graves. They expected to find dozens, if not hundreds, of human remains underneath.”

  “Did they?” Allyson asked.