by Tom Clarke
“Oh well” the soldier said, watching the last little bit of life drain from Mary’s body. He then picked up the tablet and walked out the passageway and into the main part of the cave. As the soldier walked from the cave and into the cool night air of the Arizona desert the petroglyphs on the wall around the passage entrance shined bright, then faded, and were gone.
2.
Montana
Present time, Montana: It had been six months since Jim Richards had retired from the police department. Six months since the incident at Rocket’s, six months and he was till healing from the physical injuries, as well as the emotional wounds, from his ordeal with the Lone Wolves Motorcycle gang.
About a month after his retirement, he and his wife Shelly packed up their two dogs, sold their house and moved to a small town about 30 minutes outside of Great Falls, Montana. With all they had experienced in Jim’s last few weeks with the police department, they decided that a nice house on some land in a small community was going to be the way to go for them.
They had settled into an older 2,200 square foot home sitting on five-acres. The house was a bit of a fixer-upper but sat back off the road with a long driveway and the property was fenced. There were plenty of trees and a small creek that ran through the back of the lot. Best of all no one knew who Jim Richards was. Once a week he and his wife would drive into Great Falls, do their shopping, maybe see a movie, and then go home. It was nice and quiet.
Jim spent a lot of his evenings, weather permitting, sitting in his chair on their back-deck sipping on a glass of whiskey and reminiscing.
Keith had left the drug unit shortly after Jim retired and transferred back to patrol division. Darrel was not able to recover from his gunshot wounds completely and had been medically retired from the ATF, and Nico had returned to work with the Vatican. He had moved on from the Swiss Guard and was now some sort of a special investigator.
There never was anything said about Danny’s wife Sylvia. Her death was attributed to part of the ‘satanic cult’ that the newspapers were reporting as being responsible for the entire mess. It was a convenient cover story and oddly enough one that the government types did not need to think up, it just happened all by itself.
It was summertime in Montana, a nice warm evening with a breeze coming in off the hill. A perfect night for having a whiskey, or two on the back porch and that was right where Jim was, right where he wanted to be, sitting on his back porch watching the trees.
“Jim” Shelly called from inside the house, “Jim, you better get in here.”
“What is it?” Jim yelled back from the comfort of his rocking chair.
“You need to come and see this” Shelly replied. Jim shook his head, sighed and then slowly got up from his chair.
“What is it?” Jim asked as he walked into the living room.
“Look” Shelly said, pointing at the television, “someone bombed the Vatican!”
“What do you mean someone bombed the Vatican?” Jim said as he took a seat in his recliner facing the television.
Both Jim and his wife sat and stared at the television screen in disbelief as live pictures from Saint Peter’s Square, Vatican City, showed hundreds of people, many bloody and covered with dust running and screaming. There was smoke pouring out of the church Saint Peter’s Basilica, firefighters and uniformed police officers were running everywhere.
As the camera panned around the square Jim stood up from his chair and exclaimed, “Holy shit, that’s Nico!”
“What, where?” Shelly replied.
“Right there next to that Egyptian obelisk, the one in the center of the square. What’s he doing there?”
Shelly looked at Jim and said, “I thought you said he was working as an investigator at one of their embassies?”
“I thought he was” answered Jim.
As the news continued, reports of the terrorist strike continued to roll in. “Jim, do you think that this has anything to do with what happened at Rocket’s?” Shelly asked in a guarded tone.
Jim sat back down in his chair and just stared at the television, “I don’t know. I mean they had a level of sophistication and organization, but to pull off a bombing like this, I don’t know.”
As Jim sat watching the events unfold his concentration was suddenly snapped back to reality by the ringing of his cell phone. The caller identification on the screen showed that it was Darrel, “Jimmy, are you watching the TV?”
“Yeah bro, that’s some crazy shit! Did you see Nico?”
Darrel replied, “Yeah man, what the fuck is going on? I thought that crazy Swede was somewhere in Africa, what’s he doing in the middle of a bombing in Rome?”
“I have no idea” Jim replied, “hey, do you think that our friends had anything to do with this shit?”
There was a short pause on the other end of the conversation then Darrel replied, “I don’t know brother, I sure as shit hope not. I’m not in the loop anymore, but I can make some calls in a few days, once the dust settles and see what the rumor mill has to say.”
There was another pause and then Darrel asked, “Jim, are you doing okay? I ask because I’m sort of not.”
“What do you mean?” Jim asked.
Darrel took a deep breath and said, “I’ve been having nightmares, and I feel like someone’s watching me dude. I can’t put my finger on it, but when I wake up from a bad dream I swear I see a dark form in the corner of my room, watching me.”
Jim didn’t answer Darrel, he didn’t want to in earshot of his wife, instead he stood up and walked out onto the back porch of his house with the phone. “Jimmy, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to step outside, Shelly’s here and I don’t want to freak her out. Listen man, I have been having the same shit! I have had full on scary dreams and then, when I pop out of it, just for a second, it looks like a black mass is in the room.”
“Jesus Jimmy” Darrel replied, “never mind Shelly, you just freaked me out. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know bro, I want to believe that it’s just my mind playing tricks, maybe some PTSD or something. I don’t want to get caught up in the idea that shit from Rocket’s followed me, or you.”
“Jimmy” Darrel said in a very sullen tone, “brother, I’m not afraid to tell you I’m a little uneasy.”
Jim took a deep breath to keep his emotions in check, “I know partner, me too. Listen just be cool, remember what Cowley said, they have to be near you to fuck with your head so just be aware, and never leave your cave without your club.”
Darrel took a couple of deep breaths, it wasn’t easy for him, or Jim for that matter, to have this discussion….to show any weakness, any breaks in their armor.
“Okay Jimmy” Darrel said, “you get back to Shelly, have a glass for me and I will call you in a couple of days.”
“Listen bro, you can call me anytime, you know that” Jim replied.
“Talk to you soon” Darrel said, and then he hung up the call.
Jim went back inside, set his cell phone on the kitchen counter, and sat back down in his chair. Shelly looked at him, knowing that something was not right, “Jim what’s wrong?”
Jim sat there staring at the television with the images of the smoke rolling out of the front of Saint Peters Basilica Church. He put his head in his hands and took a deep staggered breath, “Please, turn that off.”
Shelly picked up the remote control and turned the television off, she then turned to her husband and said, “Jim, it’s going to be okay. Come on, give me that whiskey glass and let’s go get some sleep.”
Jim nodded his head and as she took his half empty glass of whiskey. He stood up, turned and said, “Thank you.” Shelly smiled, and they headed off to bed, followed closely by two sleepy dogs.
It was 3 am when Jim was awakened by the sound of his dog Max, a 110-pound German Shepard, letting out a low guttural growl. He sat up in bed, careful not to wake his wife.
As he stood up he could see Max s
tanding by the foot of his bed, peering into the darkness of the hallway which led to the living room. Jim stepped to the foot of his bed next to the big Shepard and put a hand on Max’s head, the dog did not divert his attention from the hallway.
Jim peeked over to the other side of the bed where his wife was sleeping and could see their other dog, Shilo, an 80-pound mix sitting next to his wife with her lips curled and showing some teeth, also looking towards the hallway.
Jim reached back and retrieved from his nightstand the Sig-Sauer P220.45 caliber semiautomatic handgun he kept there, right next to an extra magazine and a flashlight. He grabbed the extra magazine and dropped it into the pocket of the shorts he was wearing.
Jim took the flashlight in his left hand and set into a good flashlight/handgun stance by pressing the backs of his left and right hands against each other. He pressed his hands together until they started to shake, then releasing up just a little to create a good supportive isometric tension, allowing for him to move the flashlight in line with the handgun, and if needed, providing a stable shooting platform.
He moved towards the doorway of his bedroom, stopping just short of entering the hallway, taking a second to listen for any movement or other sounds that would indicate an intruder.
Then, without exposing his entire body, slowly moved into a position so he could see down the hallway and into the darkness of the living room.
Not seeing anything out of place Jim moved into the hallway and started towards the living room, his handgun held at chest level and pulled just slightly back towards his chest. As he moved into the living room, he could hear a slight creaking sound coming from the kitchen-dining room. Looking over he saw that the light fixture hanging from the ceiling just above the table was swinging.
Standing there in the darkness looking at the light, trying to understand how it could be moved when there was no breeze, he felt something brush up against his leg, it was Max the dog. He had followed him out of the bedroom and was standing there looking up at Jim as if to say come on boss let’s go.
Jim refocused his attention and continued moving through his house, going room to room looking for whatever had upset the dogs so much.
After finding nothing inside his home Jim returned to the living room, set his gun and flashlight on the coffee table and sat down in his chair. Sitting there in his chair, collecting his thoughts, and wondering if he was beginning to go a little crazy, Jim looked over at his dog Max, who had now been joined by his other dog Shilo.
Both dogs were just sitting in the living room staring into the kitchen.
“What are you guys looking at?” Jim said as he stood up and walked behind the two dogs.
Neither dog took their gaze from the kitchen as their master walked up behind them. As Jim reached for the light switch in the kitchen he felt a piercing cold envelop him. He hit the switch, turning on the kitchen lights.
“Jesus!” Jim yelled out as the dark mass that was standing in the kitchen suddenly lurched forward.
Stepping back, and to his right Jim almost fell over as both Max and Shilo instantly started growling and barking, chasing after the black mass as it moved at speed from the kitchen, into the living room, and then through the front door of the house.
Jim grabbed the handgun and flashlight from the coffee table and started to move towards the front door of the house, pursuing the black mass, when suddenly all the living room lights came on. Jim stopped, turned, and saw standing there in the hallway was Shelly, “What the hell is going on out here!”
“Nothing” Jim replied, “I was just checking out some noises that woke the dogs up.”
“With the .45?” Shelly asked.
“You know me, any chance to wave a gun around” Jim replied, trying not to show his unease at what he had just witnessed.
Shelly looked at him, then Max and Shilo, shook her head and went back to the bedroom to go back to sleep.
Jim sat back down in his chair and looked around his living room. The idea started to creep into his mind that he had imagined the entire thing. The thought that this entire event was just his imagination made it easier to accept, but also scared him a little. The more he thought -that if he was imagining it- then what had alarmed the dogs? He stood up and looked ay himself in a mirror hanging on the wall of the living room.
Jim shook his head and then grunted. Suddenly feeling very old, he headed off back to bed, his two furry companions bringing up the rear.
The next morning came early, the smell of coffee was running through the house, calling him to get up. “I’m late for work” Shelly said as Jim walked into the kitchen.
She handed Jim a cup of coffee, “Are you okay?”
Jim nodded, “Yeah, I’m good. Get going, you’re going to be late.”
Shelly ran a hand across Jim’s face, smiled, and was out the door for her job with a law firm in town where she worked as a paralegal. And just like that, it was just Jim and the dogs, left alone to face the day.
Since retiring from law enforcement Jim had gotten his private investigators license, but the work was hit or miss, and right now he was in a miss stage, nothing to do and lots of time to do it in.
A few days had passed since the incident in the kitchen, Shelly had asked about it, but Jim just brushed it off, so she let it alone. On this day Jim managed to entertain himself until around noon, at which point he figured that a trip to the local bar was in order.
One of the neat things about small town Montana is that they all have a small local bar, and it seems that most them are called The Mint. Jim’s watering hole of choice was no exception. Just like most small-town bars in Montana this one kind of looked like an old cabin. There were a few tables and some very beaten up bar stools. The pool table was leveled on an uneven floor with drink coasters, and all the pool cues were warped. They had food, but only in the form of frozen pizza they cooked in a microwave, pickled eggs, and lots of peanuts.
The great thing about places like this is that you could walk out the front door, across the street and get a world class steak in a setting not that different than the bar.
The bulk of Jim’s law enforcement career had been spent working in an undercover capacity so having a local bar that he could go to and tell people his real name was a new and exciting novelty. That was about as far as it went through, they were nice folks, but they did not have a reason to know what he had been doing with his life for the past 20 years.
Jim walked into the bar, greeted the bartender and a few of the patrons that he knew from around town. With a beer in hand, he wandered over and took a chair at the far side of the bar facing the door, some habits die hard and keeping your back to the wall and an eye on the front door was one of them.
As he was sitting there sipping on his beer and munching on some peanuts the front door to the bar opened. The midday sun shone into the dark bar and right into Jim’s eyes so that he could not see the new patron.
As his eyes struggled to readjust to the low light of the bar a familiar voice spoke to him in broken English, “Hello Jim.”
The sound of the man’s voice was immediately recognizable, Jim looked up and replied, “Holy shit, I don’t believe it…. Nico!”
Jim stood up from his seat, grabbed his friend Nico Abegg, formerly of the Swiss Guard, and now a special investigator for the Vatican, and gave him a hug. “What are you doing here?” Jim asked.
Nico replied, “I’m looking for you, we need to talk. But first I think I would like a beer.”
Nico looked at the bartender who was admiring his expensive suit, “Can I get a Becks?”
The old bartender looked back at Nico and said, “We have Pabst on tap. Nice suit by the way.”
Nico looked at Jim, somewhat confused, “What’s a Pabst? Never mind, what are you drinking?”
Laughing to himself, Jim replied, “Miller High Life.”
Again, Nico looked somewhat puzzled, “Come on man” Jim said, “It’s the champagne of beer!”
Nico smiled as his friend Jim handed him the cold beer, slapped him on the back, and then walked him to a table that was well out of earshot of the other three patrons in the bar.
Sitting down at their table Nico took a sip of his beer. “Say, that’s good,” he said as he looked at Jim with a slight smile.
“Cheap too” Jim replied as they taped their bottles together in a subtle toast. “So, Nico, it’s not that I’m not glad to see you, but tell me, what brings you out here to the wilds of Montana?”
Nico’s demeanor changed, he suddenly becomes all business, “My friend” Nico replied after taking another long drag from his beer, “you no doubt have seen the reports of that nasty shit that happened at the Vatican?”
“Jim replied, “Yeah brother, Shelly and I were watching that on the news the other day. In fact, I saw your ass skulking around the crime scene, what’s that all about?”