The squat man crossed his arms and smiled. “Business is always good when you work for yourself,” Bobby beamed as he said it. “But yeah, it’s good. Had a bunch of execs come in from a convention this afternoon. So that was solid.” The bartender’s accent was thick, clearly from the Boston area. He paused for a moment. “Your...um, friend is running a little late tonight.”
Eric pursed his lips slightly and nodded. He didn’t need to say anything else.
Jennings was a man of few vices. Most worldly activities didn’t interest him. He’d never gotten in to drugs as a young man, didn’t over indulge with alcohol. Smoking had never been his thing, save for an occasional cigar after a nice meal. Women, however, were his one weakness. Fortunately for him, Bobby was more than willing to accommodate him with a rotation of escorts that met his strict standards, something that Jennings compensated the barkeeper for handsomely. “No problem, Bobby.” He smiled back at the man who winked, gave one nod, and headed back to the kitchen to check on the food. Eric grabbed the cool glass of Irish stout and took a long, slow sip from it, savoring the creamy, bitter flavor after a long day at work.
“Who you meeting here, Eric?”
Jennings was looking down at his cell phone when the new voice startled him, nearly causing him to spill some of his beverage. Setting it down, Jennings looked to his left and instantly recognized the young, narrow face. “I thought I recognized that slimy laugh when I walked in.” He cursed himself silently for not realizing who was with the woman at the bar.
Sam Townsend was the director of the FBI’s newest division. They focused mostly on corruption within government agencies. It was like internal affairs but for the whole party, not just one particular agency. Townsend had been in the Justice Department for five or six years. Eric couldn’t recall exactly. But he knew the young punk had risen quickly, too quickly in many veterans’ opinion. Eric hadn’t recognized him at the bar a few moments earlier. He stood a few feet away, hands in both pockets of his expensive Armani suit. His short dark hair was slightly spiked off to the side and his dark brown eyes were narrow, accompanied by a smug grin. He wasn’t even thirty yet.
Jennings had thought creating the corruption branch of the FBI was a political move by the president—foolish and a waste of taxpayer dollars. There was no way that one group within a government agency could get much done in the way of shutting down internal corruption. The US government had millions of employees all over the world. The manpower alone for spying on that many federal officials, employees, and contractors would cost billions each year. At least.
And Townsend was a scumbag. Jennings found it extremely ironic that the man they put in charge of the corruption division was probably involved with more unethical and illegal behavior than nearly anyone else. The other irony was that Eric had been an honest agent for most of his career. But decades of a flat salary and too many headaches had gotten the better of him. He wanted to retire on an island somewhere and play golf or sip margaritas on the beach. This tool could change all that if he got in the way.
“What do you want, Sam?” He went straight to the point, irritation clear in his voice.
The young agent helped himself to the seat in the booth across from Jennings just as Bobby came back to the table.
“Your food will be out in a second, Mr. J.” He lowered his eyebrows at the new companion who had just taken a seat. The bartender was obviously confused as to why the man had left the bar to come over. “You need anything else, friend?”
“No, Bobby. He’ll just be a minute,” Eric answered for him.
“I’m fine. Thanks,” Sam added, never taking his eyes off of the man across from him.
Sensing something personal was going on, the old bartender slinked back to the kitchen.
Again Jennings asked, “What do you want, Sam?”
“Eric,” his voice was condescending. “Relax. What makes you think I want something?”
The music changed on the speaker system from a slow Irish ballad to something a little more upbeat with a wild Celtic fiddle driving the melody.
“Because you’re always up to something,” Eric responded coldly after taking another draught of his beer.
“Me? I don’t think so. After all, that’s what my department does. We figure out who in the government is up to something.”
“Convenient for you. No one there to check your tracks, huh?”
Townsend laughed for a moment and looked over toward the woman at the bar. She was spying on both of them through the mirror behind the drink station. He turned his attention back to Jennings. “What are you up to, Eric? We know you have agents out in Vegas right now and another team that just headed to New Mexico. What I want to know is, why? There haven’t been any missions filed for that region recently. So, you’re up to something. You haven’t gone rogue on us, have you?”
Jennings resented the implication, even though it was true. Who was this little prick to think he could just waltz in there to his favorite pub and start throwing accusations around?
One thing Sam said caught him off guard, though. True, Jennings had people in Vegas. New Mexico on the other hand, he knew nothing about, which made him wonder who else may have been involved in the game. Townsend was thorough. If he knew about the agents out west, he had been following their actions for a while. What Jennings didn’t know was for how long. He’d tried to keep a more administrative role in the whole operation, but with a hands-off approach. The man who called himself the Prophet had asked for his top operatives and had paid handsomely. A professional mercenary, Will Hastings, had handled everything, even communications directly with the mysterious man himself. The trail was beginning to lead back to Washington, which meant Eric Jennings was going to have to take more control of the situation. At the moment, he decided to redirect.
“I’m under strict orders not to reveal that information.”
“Oh, come on,” Sam said loudly. “You know good and well I have access to everything you do.” He had a pleading look on his face that backed up what he was saying, as if it should be extremely obvious.
Although the fact that Sam was aware of their Southwest presence meant he could get his own team on the trail eventually. Eric guessed Sam would rather not do that if he didn’t need to.
“Why are we having this conversation, Sam?” he said with a smirk.
It was a good point, one that obviously caught the younger agent off guard.
Since Townsend didn’t respond, he continued, “Let me guess, Sam, you want less corruption or more opportunity to participate in it.” The statement was lathered in cynicism.
Townsend’s eyes narrowed. “Listen to me, Eric. I can pull the plug on every single operation you’re running right now. The only person with more authority in this government than me right now is the president himself. And last I checked, he’s signing off on my direct deposit.”
He was right. Townsend could shut him down. Rather than rattle the hornet’s nest, Eric decided to offer a carrot.
“What I’m about to tell you stays between you and me.” Eric looked around, feigning paranoia. “I’ve been investigating the operations of a secret society. They were fairly inactive for a long time, but then a few years ago they blipped back onto the radar. I think they’re looking for something, something big.”
Townsend leaned in closer, obviously interested in what he was hearing. “And what might that be?”
Jennings continued, “Did you hear about the golden chamber they found down in Georgia a few weeks ago?”
Sam nodded that he had. The discovery had made national news. It was like a real life Indiana Jones tale.
“This group was there. But they’re not just interested in a golden chamber. Apparently, there’s something else out there. Something much bigger.”
“What would be bigger than that treasure? Its estimated value is thought to be in the billions.”
Jennings nodded in agreement. “Chump change compared to what they’re going after
.”
Both men sat silent for a moment, Jennings letting the words sink in.
The kitchen door swung open, shattering the silence with a loud creak and accompanying sounds of dishes rattling.
Bobby brought the plate over and set it down in front of Jennings. The bartender smiled as he slinked away, apparently knowing he wasn’t to take part in the conversation.
Jennings changed gears. “They have an excellent Reuben here,” he said as he grabbed the thick sandwich and took a huge bite. He added while chewing, “They make it with pastrami instead of corned beef. Adds a little kick.” He set the sandwich down on the plate; thick pieces of beef slathered in a creamy, yellowish dressing dangled out from between the slices of marbled rye bread.
“You really should try it,” he continued as he offered Townsend a small piece of the concoction.
“I don’t eat after seven,” he said sternly, not amused that the conversation had turned to the topic of food.
Jennings shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He stuffed another huge bite into his mouth then washed it down with another sip of beer.
“You obviously think me a fool, Eric,” Sam placed his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “I want to know what you’re up to.”
“And you want a piece of whatever it is. Don’t you?” The snide remark was accompanied by a sarcastic grin.
Townsend ignored the jab. “If you are using justice department funding and personnel for some wild treasure hunt or to somehow jack a score from this so-called secret society then you are going down for it. I’ll personally make sure of it.”
The menace in his voice was threatening. Eric Jennings wasn’t a man to be easily bothered, but Townsend’s implication sent a momentary chill up his spine.
“Do you understand me?” the younger man added. He stood up and took a business card and a pen out of his suit jacket pocket and quickly scribbled down a few words then tossed the card carelessly next to the plate of food. “I’ll be in touch,” Townsend said and walked out of the room.
The woman who’d been watching from the bar took that as her signal that the meeting was over and threw some dollar bills on the counter to take care of their tab. Then she too stood and strode out of the building.
During all his years as a high-level government agent, Jennings only had to answer to a few people. Who did Townsend think he was?
Jennings snorted as he looked down at the small, government-issue business card Townsend had left. It contained only a three-word sentence in sloppy cursive. I want in.
Chapter 35
New Mexico
Tommy and Will were soaking wet, which was a bad thing considering darkness had settled in the desert. More stars than Tommy had ever seen sparkled in the dark blanket above. Nights could get very cold there, so it was imperative that they get back to the car quickly. That, and the fact that someone was trying to kill them. The corridor that had led out of the cavern had opened up near a clearing surrounded by desert rocks and hills.
It took several minutes before they could get their bearings and find their way back to the information center where their car was parked. The building was empty, and only a few lights glowed dimly within.
Both men noticed the black BMW SUV sitting quietly on the far side of the parking lot. It must have been the shooter’s vehicle.
“Start the car,” Will said as he eyed the other car.
“What are you going to do?” Tommy looked confused.
“Slow them down.”
Schultz understood and jumped into their rental car and revved up the engine. He looked out the window as Will fired his remaining two bullets into a front and rear tire of the SUV then sprinted back to the car. Tommy wheeled the vehicle out of the parking lot and down the dusty road.
“What’s the plan now?” Will asked as he slid his weapon back into his jacket pocket.
Shultz thought for a moment before answering. Paranoid, he checked back in his rearview mirror even though he knew there would be no way their pursuer could be behind them.
“We head back to Atlanta. This thing needs to be analyzed,” he held up the small golden leaf. “We need some answers. And I think I know who can help us find them.”
Chapter 36
Grand Canyon
When Sean and his companions finally reached fresh air, night had settled in across the desert. The exit for the mysterious chamber had come out right next to the Colorado River. It was hidden by a large array of stones keeping the cave completely hidden from view. With some effort, Sean had been able to leverage one of the giant rocks out of their way.
Fortunately, there was a rafting expedition spending the night in a clearing just downstream. The young, rough-looking guide and his tourists had been more than willing to let Sean and the two women join them. They even had a few extra sleeping bags and some food to help settle their hunger. A quick explanation of how they’d been hiking and lost track of time had seemed acceptable to the scruffy river guide.
Sitting by the campfire brought old memories from a distant past back to Sean’s mind. He remembered the days he’d spent as a boy with his parents out in the mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina. It seemed like they’d gone camping once a month. His current surroundings were much different than where he’d gone as a child. High desert canyons and no canopy of trees provided a severe contrast, but a beautiful one.
Adriana lay quietly nearby, staring up at the stars as they fought with the flickering glow of the fire at their feet.
The guide and his half-dozen whitewater tourists were already asleep in their tents or lying around in different places in the clearing. Emily had passed out a few feet away. She wasn’t a field agent anymore, and the events of the day had been a little more stressful and exhausting than she was used to. “You sure can see a lot of stars out here, huh?” Sean broke the silence.
Adriana smiled. “Yes. I love to stare at them.” Her eyes just bored into the night sky. “What do you think about when you look at them?” she asked in a whisper.
No one had ever asked him that before. It made him feel something deep down that he had not felt in a long time. He thought for a moment before answering. “I think about what is out there and who is out there. I wonder what it would be like to be able to visit other planets. It makes me think about how small we are here on this earth and how vast and huge the universe really is.” Then he asked, “What about you?”
She took a deep breath. “I wonder where God is and how he did all of it. How does his science work? How does he hold it all together? Or does he hold it all together? Does he just set it in a perfect mathematical motion that will maintain itself forever?”
“Wow. Those are some heavy thoughts.”
She smiled at him for a second then went back to gazing up into the darkness. “Are they? I just want to know how it all works, I guess.”
“That’s a pretty complex thing to try and understand.” He paused. “But I like it.”
He looked at her for a minute. She was beautiful in the dancing light of the campfire. Her brown hair had been pulled back to one side behind her ear. He wondered if she could be trusted, if she had been completely honest with them. At the time, he didn’t have a choice. Besides, she’d saved their hides in Vegas.
“What do we do next?” She interrupted his thoughts.
He diverted his gaze to the bright orange coals of the fire. “We head back to Atlanta and regroup with Tommy. He needs to see the piece,” Sean said as he cradled the concealed piece of gold. “And I think there is someone else I know who might be able to help us figure this thing out.”
She seemed satisfied with the plan and rolled over on her side, bracing her head on her arm as she closed her eyes. “Good, I’m coming with you.”
Sean slid into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, too. His mind ran wild as he tried to fall asleep. He’d been shot at several times in the last few weeks. After leaving the Justice Department, he’d believed those kinds of days had been left be
hind.
Now he wasn’t so sure. And he felt like there was certainly more to come.
Chapter 37
Nevada
The phone rang in Alexander Lindsey’s pocket. He looked at the number and answered immediately.
The voice on the other end spoke quickly, “We have a problem.”
It seemed like that was all he was getting lately: problems. It was growing tiresome. He missed the days when things were simpler. When he rose to power, he solved problems for other people. It was straightforward for him.
Alexander had always been a thinker, a doer. He didn’t understand nor have compassion for those who could not get things done on their own. It was an interesting irony that now, in his current status and with his endeavors, he had to rely on underlings to get things done for him. And he loathed it.
“What is the problem now, Eric?” he asked into the phone as he stood from his opulent desk and its accompanying high, leather-backed chair.
“There is a new player in the game. He has a lot of connections, security clearances, access to important information,” Jennings said plainly. “He’s watching us.”
Alexander thought for a moment as he stepped over to the large window overlooking the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The rocky peaks jutted into the sky as far as the eye could see.
“I know who you are talking about. I figured he would come around eventually. You have too many resources at work under the table for someone like him not to notice.”
“How would you like me to proceed?”
Lindsey took a deep breath. There it was again, solving another’s problems. What was he paying them for if they couldn’t provide solutions? Only now, their problems had become his. He wiped his forehead and tried to shake off his aggravation. If he was to succeed, he knew more hand-holding would have to be done for a little while longer.
“Let him in on the deal. If Samuel is anything like I have heard, he’s just as greedy as the people his department seeks to expose. I’m sure he probably told you he wanted a piece of whatever you’re doing, yes?”
Sean Wyatt Compilation Box Set Page 43