by Nick Thacker
She was stunning, and Ben could hardly focus on the vows as Archie led them through them. When it was time for the exchanging of rings, Reggie and Sarah, themselves a beautiful couple, handed them to their friends with a smile.
Then they kissed, and the assembled crowd of people cheered. Mrs. E stood next to her husband on a mounted television screen. Mr. E, who was dressed to the nines and seated behind his own desk at his home, clapped along with everyone else.
Ben and Julie walked up the aisle and disappeared into their cabin, where they changed clothes and reemerged a few minutes later, ready to celebrate. The wedding area in front of the cabin would also serve as a banquet hall, and hired teams were already erecting a white tent over the area.
Ben, walking with Julie, made his way around the tent and shook hands with everyone in attendance. It didn’t take long, as there were fewer than fifteen people there. When they got to the end of the line, Ben saw the final person waiting to congratulate them.
“Victoria,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”
Victoria Reyes smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for having me.”
Ben was about to turn away when he felt her hand on his arm.
“Ben,” she said, her voice low.
Oh, no. He didn’t need to know her very well to know that tone was not something she used for exciting news.
“Are you going back to Peru?”
Ben’s breath caught in his throat. He took a step back, and Julie put her hand on his back. Victoria stepped forward, staying in front of them.
“I… hadn’t really thought about it,” Ben said.
Victoria smiled, but she had a distant look in her eyes. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
Ben sighed. “Okay, fine. Yes. We’ve talked about it. Garza — your father — whatever he was planning there isn’t over.”
“I know,” she said.
Julie stepped in. “But we don’t have any details yet. It’s still… well, the wedding sort of took over this last month, and Reggie’s healing and everything.”
Victoria nodded. From somewhere behind him Ben heard strains of music piping through the PA system that had been erected at the edge of the tent.
“He has to be stopped.”
Ben looked up at the tent, then down at the ground. “Listen, Victoria. I know how you feel. And I think —”
“You do not know how I feel,” she said, her voice suddenly shaky. Alexis and Warren Richardson, who were talking to Mrs. E, looked over. “He’s my father. He must be stopped.”
“Vic,” Julie said, taking the woman’s hand. “He will be stopped. I promise you. But… these things take time. We have to plan, and we have to —”
“I figured it out,” Victoria said. “The Temple of Solomon. It’s the Hall of Records, the repository for the collected wisdom of the ancients. It’s in —”
“Peru,” Ben said. “Between the two pillars. The mountain.”
Victoria seemed shocked, then impressed. “Yes, exactly.”
When they had been in Peru the last time, there had been two temples — two identical ancient stone temples, each with a raised dais inside it and round stone table — a ‘pillar’ — on it. The pillars were representations of the pillars that stood outside the first Temple of Solomon, built by one of the early Freemasons named Hiram Abiff.
Reggie and Sarah had been kidnapped, strapped down to one of the pillars, and a guillotine had been placed above their wrists.
Ben and his team had found the pillar — but it was the wrong one.
Reggie had lost his entire arm protecting Sarah, and Ben had been at the wrong pillar. The memory haunted him, but he knew it was nothing compared to the haunting memories Julie was facing.
Memories that involved Victoria’s father, Vicente “The Hawk” Garza.
“I figured it out, too. When we left Peru the last time. It makes sense, geographically, and I bet the proportions line up, too. The ’33’ multiplier and all that.”
“They do. Everything points to the mountain — at least somewhere inside of it — being the final resting place of the Hall of Records. And I want to go there.”
“Victoria,” Ben said softly. “That entire area is going to be crawling with Ravenshadow forces. Your father’s going to still be there — he won that battle, remember? We barely made it out alive, but he took out one of our team and a whole bunch of the Guild Rite guys. There’s no chance he’s leaving it undefended, and I’d bet he’s even moved all operations to Peru — he’ll have an army there, if he doesn’t already.”
“But he may not know about the mountain, and what’s inside it. Which is why we need to go. I’m fluent in Spanish, and if we go now I can —”
“We will. Just… give it time.”
“We might not have time,” Victoria said, clearly frustrated. But she didn’t push it further. She turned on a heel and walked away. Ben saw her enter the cabin and turn left. They’d established the cabin’s kitchen and tiny dining table as the de facto bar — self-serve and open all the time. He wasn’t sure if Victoria Reyes drank, but she didn’t reappear in the doorway.
Ben and Julie stayed there for a moment, looking into the cabin, until Alexis corralled them over to her conversation with Mrs. E.
“Mrs. E tells me you two have been to Antarctica? Jelly, you didn’t tell me you’ve been there. What an amazing trip! Was it a cruise?”
6
Ben
Ben sat on the bed in the room. The lights were out, but there was plenty of it spilling in from outside. The party was raging, if twenty people dancing to oldies and disco could be considered “raging.”
Ben was alone, and he sipped from a glass of bourbon Reggie had gotten him. It was good — a bit briny, but smooth and full of caramel. He watched the legs of the whiskey as they snaked down the inside edges of the rocks glass, also a gift. The pumping strains of music wafted in, but it was otherwise quiet. Peaceful, almost.
I’m married.
It was weird. Surreal. He’d never had any doubt that Juliette Richardson was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, it was just he didn’t really know what the rest of his life meant. How could he imagine the next years of his life when he could hardly have imagined the last few years?
He took another sip, and a dark shape appeared in the doorway of his room.
Ben was immediately on high alert, and he slid sideways on the bed, depositing his drink onto the desk and grabbing the loaded Glock from underneath it. He was standing now, facing the doorway, the Glock perfectly balanced in his grasp and pointed at the door.
“Christ, man, sorry.” The shape put its arms up and backed up a step. The voice was young, a man’s, probably somewhere in his twenties. Ben was breathing rapidly, but he did nothing to try to slow it.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Can we… talk?”
“We’re talking now.”
“Man, you are on edge. They told me you would be. It’s… still weird, though.”
The man stopped talking and his face caught a bit of the light bouncing off the walls. Ben saw a bit of it. He dropped the pistol to his side, but didn’t set it down. “You look familiar.”
“I look — Harvey, are you serious? Familiar?”
The man backed up into the living room, finally putting his arms down. “Come on, man. Let’s talk. Oh, and congratulations.”
Ben followed him out into the living room, where there was enough light to see the kid’s face. Ben stopped, stared. Did a double-take.
“Zach?”
The kid grinned. “In the flesh. How you been, Harvey?”
“I — I uh, go by ‘Ben’ now.”
“Well, I go by Pete now. Sort of. I’m still deciding.”
“Pete.”
“Yeah… long story.”
“Well, Pete. It’s uh, good to see you.” Ben’s eyes flicked downward. He now wished he were holding the glass of bourbon instead of the pistol. He’d get
more use of it. “I... uh, sorry I didn’t invite you.”
Pete or Zach waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t have been able to find me, anyway.”
“Working for the government or something?” Ben asked.
“I wish it was that cool,” Zach said. “But no. Just needed a change. I was working for a place, and… now I’m not. Working somewhere else now, doing chemistry stuff.”
“You — were pretty good at that sorta thing, right?”
Zach scoffed. “I was nine, Ben. I don’t think anyone’s good at anything when they’re nine.”
The last time they’d seen each other, Ben had been nineteen, his little brother nine. They were on a camping trip, just the Bennett men. Johnson Bennett, their father, wanted a little time in nature with his boys while their mother was out of town.
That trip had ended in devastating horror. Zach had been hospitalized and their father had died. A grizzly attack, a freak accident. Ben hadn’t thought about it in years. He’d opened up to Julie about it, but he’d told the story in a staccato, detached way. Just the facts. He’d given Reggie and the others even less.
“Fair enough. So, you like the new life?”
“It’s… different. Good a life as any, I guess. The job’s good pay. You?”
“What about me?”
“Your job. They — the weird guy on the TV out there said you were part of something called the CSO?”
“Yeah. That’s Mr. E.”
“Is he as weird as he seems?”
“Weirder. Never even met him in person.”
Zach laughed. “I met your wife, too.”
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“You’re batting out of your league. She’s perfect, Har — Ben. Well done.”
“Thanks. Zach, what are you doing here?”
Zach took a breath. He’d caught him off-guard. Ben immediately felt bad.
“Sorry, I mean… I’m not used to — this is weird.”
“Yeah,” Zach said.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“I don’t drink.”
“I have water. Do you drink that?”
Zach smiled. “I saw a seltzer water out front. I’ll grab one on the way out.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I didn’t expect to stay. I’ve got a room in Anchorage for the night. No big deal.”
“We have room here. More than enough space, and more than enough food. Plenty of seltzer water, too.”
“Thanks, Ben. I appreciate it. It would be good to catch up, but I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not. We just built a wing that can sleep ten, and we’ve got a couch here. Stay, at least a night. I want you to meet everyone.”
Zach walked over and hugged Ben. Ben wasn’t quite sure what to do with the pistol in his hand, so he held it tightly and patted his little brother on the back with the butt of it.
7
Garza
Vicente Garza paced outside the makeshift hospital room. They were inside an abandoned mine, but Garza wouldn’t have known it by just looking around. The walls were pristine white, sprayed with two coats of interior paint. The hallways were bright, lit by fluorescent hanging fixtures that were all wired in sequence and driven by the massive generators he’d had his team set up in a nearby room.
As the founder and president of Ravenshadow Security, LLC, Garza had been looking for an offshore location to move his growing army of security professionals. Taxes and government scrutiny in the United States had only gotten worse over the past decade, and Garza wanted out. He still worked for many US companies, but his business location was far from important to his clients. They wanted anonymity and subtlety, and they respected his desire for the same.
The mine he’d purchased in Peru was structurally sound, needing little architectural support. His team had put in the infrastructure they’d needed, slapped a few coats of paint on the new walls, and called it home. The place had been remarkably clean — no sign of mining equipment or coal or anything. Now the new Ravenshadow headquarters boasted living quarters for up to two-hundred men, complete with a commercial kitchen and two recreation halls. His work building the Ravenshadow crew had slowly paid off, and he would now be able to reap the benefits.
Purchasing land in Peru had been a struggle at first, but the price was incomparable to anything he might be able to find elsewhere. The international company who had owned the mine and rights to the surrounding land was about to file for bankruptcy in Peruvian court, and he had saved them a lot of money and grief by making a lowball offer on all of it. His bank hadn’t even batted an eye at the purchase of the property, knowing that Garza was more than good for the amount — he had always made it a point to never miss a payment that was rightfully owed.
His long-term goal was to move the entirety of his operations out of the United States, from Philadelphia, and into Peru. It had, so far, proven to be a tax haven for his company, and he was already beginning to make side deals with some of the military officials in the area — a feat which was far easier in the less-stable economic environment of South America.
He stopped pacing and looked through the rectangular window in the door. Dr. Prichard was still examining something on the monitors, his face masked in an expression of confusion and shaded blue by the LED display. Garza knocked twice in rapid succession, didn’t wait for Prichard’s response, and barged in.
“Well?” he asked.
Dr. Prichard’s eyebrows rose, then fell, as he looked up. “Oh, right… sorry. The… administration is complete.”
“And?”
“It was successful.”
Garza sighed. “You successfully administered the drug, or the drug’s effects when you administered it was successful?”
“Oh, right. Uh, well, I’m checking into that now. You know, without Dr. —”
“I don’t have the time to onboard another doctor, Prichard,” Garza said. He knew the complaint well. Dr. Prichard had been advocating for hiring another doctor for the past month, after the brutal death of his colleague Dr. Ruth Jenner. “It will take weeks to even find someone willing to make the trip, not to mention the months of training you and I will need to provide.”
“Yes, but —”
“I understand the reasoning, Dr. Prichard,” Garza said. “But I am working against a much different set of pressures than you. Please do not ask again.”
Prichard’s eyebrows danced again, but he nodded quickly and stood up. The chair bounced backward as he rose, and he fumbled around for his footing. At some point in the past month, Garza thought, the man had descended into a mad scientist routine. It was annoying, but Prichard was the best he had.
“Right,” Prichard said, continuing a conversation that had apparently been developing only in his mind, “so when I administered the treatment an hour ago, the subject had quite adverse effects at first.”
“At first?”
“Yes.”
Garza pinched his forefinger between his thumb and ring finger, trying to distract himself from his annoyance by causing himself physical pain. “How long were these adverse effects?”
“Oh — right. Well, uh, five minutes?”
“And then?”
“And then the dosage’s side effects faded away and led to a more stable condition in the subject.”
“I see. Results?”
“Well,” Dr. Prichard said, “I believe the results are promising. Uh, here.” He shifted to the corner of the room, next to the bed where the patient, an elderly Peruvian woman, was asleep. He stood at the head of the bed and tapped the woman’s arm.
Her eyes opened slowly, flickering, then they focused on Garza and Prichard. When they met the doctor’s gaze, they widened, a look of fear coming over them. She stiffened, her wrists jerking upward, but the vinyl bindings holding them in place at her sides did their job. After a few seconds of fighting in vain, she fell back to the bed, defeated.
“The effects are subtle, as you have
no doubt noticed. She is still very much the same person — her personality remains unchanged.”
“And we will be able to create a version of the drug that can be successfully airborne-dispersed?”
“Yes, I believe so, but it will take —”
“But it worked?” Garza asked.
“Oh, yes,” Prichard replied. “Very much so. She is far more willing to accept outside persuasion than she would without the medication.”
“I see. Prove it.”
Dr. Prichard flicked his eyes to Garza, then back at the patient. “Well… uh, you see… the dosage is but a single portion of the overall treatment plan that I have —”
“Prove it,” Garza said again.
“Right. Okay.” Prichard cleared his throat, then sniffed. The staff Garza had hired were required to speak and understand Spanish, and he and Dr. Prichard were no exception. With a fluent, smooth voice, Prichard gently called out to the subject in the bed. “Ms., uh, Patient 84, do you know who I am?”
Patient 84 nodded.
“Good. Now, if you would, please lift your right arm.”
The elderly woman’s right arm rose into the air a few inches until it was caught by the strap.
“Fine, thank you. Now, Patient 84, please lift your left arm.”
She did.
Garza stepped forward. “Will she respond to me?”
“Dr. Prichard shook his head. “I — I don’t believe so, sir. The treatment — the remaining portion of the drug, at least, it’s — meant to be administered over the course of —”
“Patient 84,” Garza said in Spanish, “do you know who I am?”
The woman frowned, but didn’t take her eyes off Garza. She shook her head.
“Okay, that’s fine,” Garza said. “Patient 84, please nod your head.”
The subject seemed confused at first, but she eventually nodded.
“Very good. Now, I would like Dr. Prichard to remove your straps.”
Prichard began to argue, but Garza held up a hand. Prichard complied, leaning over the woman and removing the straps holding her to the bed.