Relic

by Roger Weston

  Over on the south lawn, groups of people watched a polo game. Horses thundered up and down a 300-yard-long patch of grass. Various guests looked on, commenting on the spectacle. Over by the pool, an orchestra worked their instruments in harmony. No children were in sight anywhere.

  Inside the house, Irina was still wearing her pink dress. The conference room had been transformed into a temporary television studio where she was doing interviews with some of the most important international news organizations. Her interviews were being broadcast outside on half a dozen big screen televisions that attracted crowds of guests. Finally, she gave her last interview. Armed guards escorted the last of the press out of the house and off the property. Under no circumstances were the press allowed to photograph any of the guests.

  Irina was on her way to just look at her white dress when she got a phone call from her ex-husband Nick.

  “Irina, I congratulate you on your big day. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make the wedding. El Jefe has been suffering unusual pain and cannot leave the house. I’m going to be with him.”

  Irina felt a shot of panic rush through her. “But you have to be here. You have to bring him. If he isn’t feeling well, Ajax has lots of extra bedrooms where he can rest.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not going to happen. He’s very uncomfortable already. He’s in no condition to go anywhere.”

  Irina resisted the urge to apply pressure. That would not look good, and it would arouse suspicion. “Please give him my best. You’ll both be missed.”

  “Of course. By the way, I did invite my new client, Jake Sands, to the wedding as you requested. If you talk to him, please extend my apologies for my last minute change of plans.”

  Irina made a call to her hit team to abort their mission. She got no answer. Irina cursed and called up Ajax who was somewhere outside.

  “Honey, something has happened. I need you to do something. It’s extremely important. I’m going to give you a handful of gold coins from the Maravillas shipwreck. As the members of the Augean Command arrive at the wedding party, I need you to give a coin to each one of them. It will serve as their ticket to an emergency meeting of the Augean Command that will take place down in your underground conference room.”

  “What about El Jefe?”

  “If they ask, just tell them that he’s inside getting dressed and will be at the meeting. You will be speaking on his behalf when you request their attendance. Just say it’s important and El Jefe needs them to meet for twenty minutes.”

  “Done.”

  Once again, Irina made a call to her hit team. Once again, she got no answer.

  CHAPTER 46

  Rico Espinal was in awe as he drove through the countryside toward Ajax’s wedding party. Rico was born and raised in Buenos Aires. He was a city creature first and last. He lived for the city. That’s where he had always gotten his power and importance. He loved the energy and activity. As a capo for El Jefe, Rico had spent the last twenty years enforcing El Jefe’s will by any means possible, from intimidation to assassination. Rico knew the city as well as anyone alive.

  Now, he was out of his element, and it was not a good feeling. He would go five or ten miles without passing another car. At the same time, he could not deny that the scenery was spectacular. He drove through rolling hills with fences and vast expanses of green grass, but very few houses. The houses he did see were truly impressive, even if they looked isolated, lonely and depressing. Rico simply could not fathom why anyone would live outside of the city. Still, the huge mansions staggered his imagination. He saw many amazing sights, including people on horseback who looked like they actually lived that way. He saw beautiful lakes and wetlands that were home to hundreds of birds. He passed alfalfa fields with rolls of alfalfa that were bigger than semi trucks. He even saw running emus. He’d heard that they were badass.

  The vibrant colors excited him: the bright green grasses under the deep blue sky. He even passed beautiful fields of bright-yellow sunflowers that reminded him of Van Gogh paintings. It was all very nice, but in truth he’d have rather been in the city, looking at Van Gogh paintings in a museum.

  Rico was driving fast on a long stretch of highway between a lot of little ponds and wetlands when he was stopped by a road crew. Rico dialed the number for El Jefe to check on his health. He had always been loyal to his old friend.

  As Rico waited for an answer on the speaker phone, the sign holder was talking on her walkie-talkie. She nodded and walked over to Rico’s car to tell him something.

  “How long is this going to take?” Rico asked.

  “Not long,” she said. She pulled out a pistol and unloaded five shots into him. She then got out her walkie-talkie again. She said, “Espinal es terminado.”

  CHAPTER 47

  El Jefe was standing outside of a downtown office building where one of his banks was located. Despite what he’d told people, he was feeling fine. His security team had advised him not to go to the wedding. Things had been too hot lately. The risk level was above normal. Better to play it safe. Strange things had been happening. His capos would go on his behalf.

  El Jefe had been meeting with the bank’s branch manager about a series of money transfers to Panama. During a break, he was outside smoking a cigar and talking with Rico on the telephone. Rico had grumbled about having to stop due to remote construction activity. Then El Jefe was startled to hear gunshots. He heard no more from Rico. After that, El Jefe could not smoke his cigar any more. The thought of it sickened him. He dropped it on the ground and smashed it out with his foot.

  “You worthless scoundrel,” El Jefe mumbled, thinking of his own son Ajax. “You killed Rico and you were planning to kill me.”

  El Jefe’s mind flew back in time five years to when he survived the assassination attempt staged by Nicholas. Nick had made a major sacrifice in order to save his life. He had allegedly sacrificed Irina as a way of making reparations while allowing El Jefe to save face in the eyes of the other members of the Augean Command. Had El Jefe simply overlooked an attempted assassination, he would have been looked at as extremely weak. The wolves would have moved in. They would have moved in on his clients. They’d have worked together to bring about his downfall so that they could seize power for themselves. Of course they would have. El Jefe would have done the same in their place. The only option was to kill Nick, his own son. Blood for blood.

  But to kill his own son—given how unstable Ajax was—would also have put him in the crosshairs. After all, he was getting ready to step down. If Nick was gone, then El Jefe had no suitable replacement. That would cause uncertainty among the Augeans. They would find a replacement and push El Jefe out. That would be ugly, so they might decide to get rid of him for good. El Jefe had survived all of that, but now, five years later, it was happening again.

  This time, though, it was Ajax trying to kill him—Ajax and Irina. There would be no compromise possible this time. If he did not take out Ajax, his rivals would send in a team of assassins to eliminate the unstable link in the chain. The stakes were too high for them to do anything else. Billions of dollars were at risk.

  El Jefe dialed a number. He waited for an answer. He said, “Listen to me very carefully. Ajax’s wedding today is at his estancia. Get your hard team together immediately. I want you to go to the wedding. Say good-bye to Ajax and Irina. Eliminate with extreme prejudice… Yes, you heard me correctly. I need a rapid response. I want your team on the road now. Do not hesitate for any reason.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Ajax’s Estancia

  Silvino Mendez was young, fit, clean-cut, and always dapper. He had short dark hair, dark eyes, and a droopy eyelid. His shirts were always starched and pressed. Every week he showed off a new suit. He paid cash for everything and was known for pulling out a fat wad of cash and peeling off bills. He always cut a trim figure in his custom suits because he worked out daily in his home gym. Silvino was looking around the wedding party for Rico Espinal, but not seeing him. Rico
was still not here, and Rico was never late. Silvino walked a crooked path across the lawn, weaving through groups of guests. He traded an empty martini glass for a full one as he passed a server. He stopped at a shrimp table and chose caviar instead. Then he found Ajax and gently pulled him aside.

  “Ajax, buddy, I’m a little worried about Rico Espinal. He was supposed to be here an hour ago, and he’s not answering his phone. You heard from him?”

  “No, don’t worry about Rico. He was probably just held up. His wife probably couldn’t decide on which dress to wear.”

  “I don’t think so, Ajax. His wife is in France.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll check into it. I have great respect for Rico Espinal. You and him were two of my role models growing up. I’ll talk to El Jefe and see if he’s heard anything.”

  “I haven’t seen El Jefe, either. Is he here?”

  “Sure, but he’s having a tough day, dealing with pain. He’s inside taking a rest. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

  Silvino wandered over by the pool and watched the fountains for a few minutes. Several people shook his hand and paid their respects. Little gatherings of three and four people were sprinkled all around the area. The women wore dazzling dresses. The men looked like money.

  A husky guy in a black suit and glasses approached him. The man looked very smart and distinguished. He said, “Are you Silvino Mendez?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “El Jefe needs to talk to you inside.”

  On his way inside, Silvino was intercepted by three servants carrying platters of lobster or glittering wine glasses. He turned them all down. The house security did not hassle him for wanting to go inside because after all, he was Silvino Mendez, one of El Jefe’s top capos. Plus, he was following the smart-looking guy.

  Silvino was led to an office in the back of the house. The room was basically empty. Just a desk and telephone. The guy with the glasses told him El Jefe would be there shortly and added, “I’ll close the door.”

  When the brainy guy got to the door, however, he pulled out a gun with a silencer on it and pumped off four shots. Silvino fell back over the desk and landed in a heap on the green granite floor.

  CHAPTER 49

  Jake Sands was taking in the sights on the way to the wedding: the rolling grasslands, the lakes, the ranches, and the mountains. Despite the beauty of Argentina, however, he was mentally focused on what he was doing. He was going to this party as a client of Nick’s, an arms trader. He’d been studying up on weapons and was thinking about all he had learned when he saw road construction up ahead. A black-haired woman was talking on her walkie-talkie. Jake could see another sign holder a quarter mile on, but there was no actual road work going on—just the sign holders and a couple of guys who looked like surveyors who were pointing at the mountains. They didn’t even have their surveying equipment out yet.

  When the woman with the sign walked over to tell him something, Jake noticed the serious expression on her face and a bulge under her reflector vest.

  “It will be just a minute,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  When she reached under her reflector vest, Jake grabbed his door handle. He saw her hand pulling a gun, and he opened the car door and kicked it hard. The car door slammed into her and knocked her down. Jake jumped on top of her and disarmed her, twisting her .45 out of her fingers and pistol whipping her with it.

  Leaving her out cold on the road, Jake got back in the car and peeled out. He keyed his new walkie-talkie and said, “Hello, you’re next.”

  The Peugeot 407 Coupe climbed from zero to sixty in modest time, maybe fourteen seconds. As he approached the road team, Jake stuck his left hand out the window and started shooting. There was no cover anywhere and the roadsters were trapped by barb-wire fences about forty feet off the highway on either side. They ran and dove for cover anyway. Jake got off a few shots at them as he drove by but doubted he got a hit. Just when he thought he’d made a clean breakaway, a volley of gunshots slammed into his car, shattering the back window and a side window. Only as he roared past the side road where their truck was parked did he realize that someone was sitting in there. He must have been sunken down low on the seat until the shooting started.

  The speedometer of the Peugeot quickly ticked up to ninety. Jake hesitated to go much faster because of the curves in the road. He was well aware that while Ford trucks like the one he’d passed were not built for speed, some of them had big engines. Plus, there was no place for him to duck away or hide. He was on a highway through endless grasslands. There was only one direction to go—straight ahead. He used his lead foot to good advantage, but he could see the truck in the rear-view mirror. Jake had to slow down for corners or he would probably roll the car.

  Wheels screeched as he took corners at maximum speed. He could feel his heart pumping. He could even feel a touch of fear because it had been a while since he’d driven at this speed. The truck must have had a big-block engine because it caught up with the Peugeot. Then the driver started shooting. They were wild shots, but a few hit the car. One bullet came in through the missing back window and hit the windshield from the inside. Jake now had to drive with a big spider web impeding his view.

  Sinking down in his seat so that he could see, he hit the gas at a series of turns, pulling far ahead. At a straightaway, he poured on the juice and blew the truck away as the Peugeot 407 Coupe reached 150 mph. The sprint didn’t last long, though, because he saw more twists in the road coming up before a series of little lakes on both sides of the highway.

  Jake eased down on the brakes, slowing the car. The road bent to the left on high ground, a rise in the terrain before the lakes. When his speed got down below 40, Jake hit the brakes hard. The car went into a sideways slide. It came to a stop, sideways in the middle of the road. Jake burned rubber and pulled the car off onto a patch of packed ground that was covered in yellow flowers. He jumped out of the car, sprinted up over a little berm and took cover behind some rocks. He had now reversed the situation.

  When the truck came around a bend in the road, Jake saw it swerve and he knew the reason: the driver had just realized he was speeding into an ambush.

  Jake fired twice. He heard the big engine roar. The truck flew past like a blur, and Jake squeezed off a couple more shots, hoping to at least injure the guy so he didn’t set up an ambush for Jake. The truck swerved a couple of times and then went off road. It barreled right into one of the lakes. As it plowed in at high speed, a wall of water flew up in the air. By the time Jake got back on the road, the truck was sunken. He saw the driver crawling ashore.

  Jake drove on through the wild county with the feeling that it was hunting season and he was the prey. He drove past rolling hills and stark mountains. When he switched on the radio, he was surprised to hear the host talking about the Confession. The reception was bad, so he played with the tuner. A second station was also very fuzzy, but once again, he heard mention of the Confession … Then a third station came in clear. Here, too, the host was talking about the Confession.

  The host spoke of Irina Rosario’s already-famous press conference that was held earlier in the day. Jake couldn’t believe it. He’d been so busy with preparing to rescue Cooper in Patagonia that he’d not paid attention to any media. Now he checked the newsfeed on his smartphone. The media could talk of little else. It seemed that every news site ranted about the Vatican, hypocrisy, and the ignorant masses. Atheists were quoted saying nasty things about Christianity. Famous personalities seemingly tried to outdo each other with more insulting sound bites.

  As Jake drove through the countryside, the host on the car radio went on and on about the Confession. He said, “I have a translation of the Confession right in front of me, right here my own hands. I will read it to you now. This amazing document was written in Aramaic and was cast on the pages of a lead book that has been sealed for two thousand years. Here it is:

  “I am Jesus of Nazareth, son of Joseph, and t
his is my Confession.

  “This confession will be sealed in the lead book and hidden where it will never be found.

  “Ever since I was young, I associated with wise men. I saw how they believed in God, and I decided to exploit this weakness in humanity—to play a hoax on the people. I would give them what they wanted—a savior. But one of my twelve conspirators—the apostles and co-conspirators in my fraud—would mock all believers by putting a reference to the hoax right in the chapter of Revelations. I and my co-conspirators all agreed to carry out this hoax to the limit: we would give up everything, live in poverty, and carry this hoax to the ends of the earth, even to jaws of death—whether by cross, flames, torture, the mouths of lions, disembowelment, or the sword. This ends my confession, which shall be hidden away and seen by nobody.”

  Jake shook his head.

  When he arrived at the wedding party, he had to check into a security shack, which was a small, modern 400-square-foot building. They wanded him and patted him down. It was all very professional. Jake had already ditched the pistol.

  “What happened to your car, sir?”

  Jake turned and looked out the security shack’s window. The car was a sad sight with several bullet holes in the side and two windows that had been shot out. The windshield was spider-webbed.

  “Bandits,” he said. “They tried to rob me on the way here.”

  They checked his ID and verified that his name was on the guest list, but thanks to the bullet holes in his car, the top cop decided to call ahead for approval. Jake had to sit in the security shack for ten minutes.

  Finally, he got approval. He drove down a smooth driveway that must have been close to a mile long. The entire span was like driving in a tunnel because the road was lined with trees and the branches meshed overhead. The road led him through green pastureland and opened finally into an amazing oasis. There were hundreds of cars parked in a clearing. A white tent was set up for the valets, of which there were many. Beyond the clearing was a pink ten-car garage. Beyond that was a stunning pink mansion, an amazing swimming pool with fountains, massive trees, and countless acres of rich green grass.