The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set

by Ernest Dempsey

  He held up his phone and pressed a finger to the screen to stop the audio recording. "This will clear my name with the military. But when this goes to the higher-ups, there will be questions. Colonel Tucker will not take it well. My guess is, they'll give him some kind of an honorable discharge, but if I know Tucker, that won't stop him."

  "What are you saying, Dak?" She searched his eyes for a truth that would somehow put them together again, a new life where they could live happily ever after. That fairytale ending was nowhere to be found in his jade gaze.

  "It's not safe to be with me, Nicky. It never will be. Maybe I'm wrong, but the colonel doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to take losing gracefully."

  "But you said you have the recording of Bo's confession. Whoever this Colonel Tucker guy is, surely he'll take that as proof you were innocent. He'll be glad. Won't he?"

  "That's not how it will go down, Nicky. I've seen it before. The military is all Tucker has. Once that's gone, he will either end up at the bottom of a bottle, or he'll try to figure out a way to make me pay for the destruction of his career."

  "So," she choked back a sob, "you're going to leave me again?"

  He nodded. The gesture was subtle, almost unnoticeable. He didn't want to. He wanted to return to Istanbul with her and start a new life, but that couldn't happen. Not yet. Maybe Tucker would bow out and disappear. Dak doubted it. He'd already seen the lengths the colonel would go to on a few occasions.

  Now, he wouldn't be shackled by the rules of the United States military, not that he was playing by those rules anyway.

  "Where will you go?" Nicole asked, realizing there was no changing the course of their tattered relationship.

  "I honestly don't know," he said. "I'll hop around some. I've always wanted to see the world, study some history in the places where it actually happened. Who knows?"

  He could see she had a question still waiting in reserve, and he wondered why she held back.

  Finally, she set it free. "Will you… kill the colonel?"

  Her eyes wandered to the body on the ground below and Dak followed her gaze. "If I have to," he said. "I don't want to, though. I hope I'm wrong about Tucker, that he'll take his retirement to his grave and be happy with the life he's lived. I can't plan on that, though."

  "When, then? When will you know if it's safe? I want to be with you, Dak. When can that happen?"

  The pleading in her eyes as they met his again nearly broke him.

  "Someday," he said. "I promise."

  Twenty

  Sequatchie County, Tennessee

  Dak sat perfectly still. Warm breath escaped his nostrils, billowing into the cool, late fall air. He watched the forest below—unmoving, ever-patient, like a statue.

  From his tree stand, he had a clear 180-degree view of the woods without having to turn his head.

  While he focused on detecting even the slightest movement, his mind wandered to a city far from Tennessee. On the other side of the world, Nicole would be having a late lunch, or perhaps she'd already returned to her job. He wondered what she ate during her break. He smiled, knowing there was probably some baklava to finish off the lunch menu. She loved that stuff, especially with a little afternoon espresso or just black coffee.

  He enjoyed it too, but it always tasted better when he ate it with her. It was as if her intoxicating smile sweetened everything.

  Not everything, his brain reminded.

  That was true. Dak and Nicole had gone through their rough spots, but they'd always worked it out, until they didn't.

  His heart ached at the thought. After years apart, they'd finally reconciled, and she'd even told him she wanted to be with him.

  Dak believed, or thought he believed, that Nicole didn't want to have anything to do with him. She'd put on a good show to that effect, but it turned out she loved him after all.

  He couldn't risk being with her, and he knew it. He'd meant what he said when he surmised the colonel would never stop hunting him, even after his career tanked. And it did.

  Dak sent the recorded message to an officer he trusted, one that wasn't under the command of Colonel Tucker. His friend delivered the audio higher up the food chain. When it was verified, the cover up began immediately.

  Dak found out that Tucker had received—as predicted—an honorable exit from the military. He was even given accolades for his service, all to cover up the man's ineptitude in bringing in a rogue soldier who ended up being an innocent victim.

  Tucker was, no doubt, furious. Innocent or not, Dak was the reason his career came to a grinding crash. Tucker enjoyed the control, the perception of power that accompanied his position. It was no secret the man had eyes on becoming a general someday, and likely was on track for the promotion.

  Now, he was finished.

  In his quest for revenge, Dak had opened another can. He pondered a quote from the Bible his mother read to him when he was a child. "Vengeance is mine, says the Lord," she'd say. When he asked about it, his mother explained that when humans seek revenge, it engulfs them. It takes away everything else from life and replaces it with an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Such negative energy, she said, could eventually drive a person crazy. Not only that, when revenge was taken, it opened an unending chain.

  Dak realized that had come true. By eliminating Bo and clearing his own name, he'd brought about a new danger from someone who perceived their own injustice. Tucker would stop at nothing to find Dak.

  He noticed a subtle movement about fifty yards away. The rustle of leaves confirmed something or someone had ventured into Dak's forest.

  "You hear that?" Will hissed. "I think I see it."

  Dak rolled his eyes and twisted his head to the right. "Can you shut up? You're going to scare the deer away."

  He looked through the scope on his rifle, raising it gradually until he locked on to the animal. The buck's antlers had grown since he'd last seen the creature. Dak smiled, admiring the animal's beauty. It's dark, black eyes stared blankly into the woods to Dak's left. Its light brown and white underside looked perfectly groomed, as if the deer had been brushed down earlier that morning. The buck twitched its fluffy tail, and then went back to nosing around the ground, searching for a snack.

  "You gonna take the shot or what?" Will asked.

  Again, Dak suppressed the irritation swelling inside him.

  With his Nazaré apartment compromised, there was no way Will could return there. He and Dak both knew that Tucker would have gone through everything, ransacking the place for information. Even after Tucker lost his role with the military, Will assumed that the man would have someone permanently stationed there just in case he slipped up and decided to swing by the old residence.

  Will wasn't stupid.

  While he did have some valuables in the apartment, mostly computers and gadgets, those could be replaced. His fake passports and the bulk of his underground operations took place in another location; in an old knitting mill on the outskirts of town. There was nothing in the apartment to link the two places, so Tucker and whatever mercenary thugs he sent in there would find nothing useful.

  Will also performed a remote scrub, erasing anything on his computers' hard drives that Tucker might find useful.

  "I don't kill for sport," Dak said. "Only when I need to."

  Will twisted his head to the left and eyed Dak with surprise.

  Dak lowered the rifle and turned to face his friend.

  Will shivered in the early morning chill. "Why do you have the gun, then?"

  "Practice," Dak shrugged. "Always pays to stay sharp."

  A snort escaped Will's nose and he shook his head. "Yeah, I guess so." He remained silent for a minute as the two men watched the buck meander closer to the tree stand. "They really are beautiful animals."

  "That they are. Innocent. Pure. Unlike us."

  "We do what we have to do to survive."

  "True. Speaking of, what do you think you're going to do? I know you have a scheme somewhere in the b
ack of your head."

  Will pretended to be insulted. "Scheme? You make it sound like I break laws or something."

  Dak narrowed his eyes and bobbed his head from side to side. "Eh, maybe you operate in more of a gray area."

  "Thank you," Will said, and went back to watching the deer. "I have a few things cooking."

  "You're not going to stay here in the States, are you?"

  "Nah. I found a nice place in Serbia. Beach town, too. Not many tourists come through there. I'll be able to set up shop there within a few weeks."

  "Serbia, huh? I hear the beaches are nice. When I get a chance, I'll come visit."

  "Please don't." Will looked at him with serious eyes. "At least give me a couple of months to get settled in."

  "You act like I'll ruin everything. I'm hurt, Will."

  Will chuckled and the deer's head perked up. The black eyes stared at the two men for a few seconds, then the creature darted off into the forest, disappearing in three bounds.

  "Let's just say, you have a tendency to draw attention."

  "That's fair," Dak surrendered.

  "What about you?" Will asked. "Gonna stay here?"

  "As long as I can. This place is owned by a shell, so Tucker likely won't find it, but I don't want to hole up forever. That's no way to live."

  "So, what then?"

  Dak lost himself in the forest again. He loved this place. Tennessee was his home, but something called to him. It was a distance voice, echoing in the canyons of both his memories and his potential.

  "I've always wanted to travel," he confessed.

  "Didn't get enough of that in the army?"

  Dak huffed. "Not the same thing. They mostly just took me to deserts. And I didn't get a chance to investigate the local history."

  "Sounds like you want to be an archaeologist," Will offered.

  "Maybe. I don't know. That sounds kind of boring to me. Have you ever been to a dig site?" Will shook his head. "Lots of scraping and brushing and digging with small tools. I need a little more adventure, more mystery than that. I like a good mystery."

  "So, what then?"

  "I don't know," Dak said, still staring into the distance after the buck. "But I'll figure it out.

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Thank You

  Thank you for taking the time to read this story. We can always make more money, but time is a finite resource for all of us, so the fact you took the time to read my work means the world to me and I truly appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed sharing it, and I look forward to bringing you more fun adventures in the future. If you this story kept you up late, on the edge of your seat, or burning your fingers as you swiped or turned the pages, swing by Amazon and leave a review. I’d appreciate it and so would other readers.

  See you in the next one,

  Ernest

  Other books by Ernest dempsey

  Dak Harper Origin Stories:

  Out of the Fire

  You Only Die Once

  Tequila Sunset

  Purgatory

  Scorched Earth

  The Heart of Vengeance

  Sean Wyatt Adventures:

  The Secret of the Stones

  The Cleric's Vault

  The Last Chamber

  The Grecian Manifesto

  The Norse Directive

  Game of Shadows

  The Jerusalem Creed

  The Samurai Cipher

  The Cairo Vendetta

  The Uluru Code

  The Excalibur Key

  The Denali Deception

  The Sahara Legacy

  The Fourth Prophecy

  The Templar Curse

  The Forbidden Temple

  The Omega Project

  The Napoleon Affair

  The Second Sign

  Adriana Villa Adventures:

  War of Thieves Box Set

  When Shadows Call

  Shadows Rising

  Shadow Hour

  The Adventure Guild:

  The Caesar Secret: Books 1-3

  The Carolina Caper

  Beta Force:

  Operation Zulu

  London Calling

  Paranormal Archaeology Division:

  Hell’s Gate

  Acknowledgments

  Big thanks to my editor Anne Storer and all the readers who helped out while the book was being written and posted each day on my website. I can’t thank you enough. There were so many of you kind enough to send your comments. I appreciate you.

  For Edward

  Copyright © 2020 by Ernest Dempsey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All places, people, locations, and events are fictional or used in a fictional context. Any resemblance to any of those things real or otherwise, are purely coincidental.

  Secret Chapter

  Two Years Later | Colima, Mexico

  Dak sat back in his desk chair and flipped open the gray laptop.

  Through the huge window pane beyond the desk, the titanic volcano Volcán de Colima spewed a steady stream of ash and smoke into the crystal blue sky.

  He’d been here for the last year, finally settling down for more than a few months in one place. Prior to arriving in Colima, Dak had bounced around from place to place. He spent three months in Ecuador, just outside of Quenca. Then there were stints in Split, Croatia, the New Zealand countryside, the Greek Island of Andros, back to South America and Chile, Panama, and finally Mexico.

  His movements were random and sporadic enough that it would make tracking him nearly impossible. After two years of running, he was ready to plant his feet somewhere. Unfortunately, with the former colonel still out there and desperate for revenge, settling down wouldn’t be the smart play. Then again, staying on the run all the time was hardly living. It was surviving, sure, but it was no way to live.

  He’d been getting by, mostly on the money his ex-teammates had left behind. With the exception of Carson, whose money went to the bookkeepers in Miami, Will had managed to track down most of the funds the guys from the team had squirreled away. Bo had been a little more creative with where he stashed his money, but the others had gone to the usual places where that people tried attempted to hide their dirty money. Their lack of creativity had made it fairly easy for Will to get all the proper authorizations to make huge withdrawals.

  Dak had told Will he could keep everything he found, but Will wouldn’t hear of it, and he split the money with Dak.

  With all of his basic needs taken care of for the rest of his life, Dak could have rested a little easier at night, but he knew that would be folly. Colonel Tucker would never give up, chasing Dak relentlessly until judgment day arrived.

  Something else crept up on Dak through the days, weeks, and months. It was a sinister enemy, one that had appeared innocently enough initially, but had grown into a troublesome adversary. He was bored.

  Coming from a life where he was almost always on high-alert, perpetually ready for action, his new life—he discovered—had become overrun with boredom. He felt the itch to do something. He played the guitar a little, but not enough to be professional. A few other hobbies occupied some of his time, but for the most part, Dak felt incomplete. He’d been channeling most of his mental energy to surviving, watching his back, making sure he was careful. Come to think of it, Dak couldn’t recall doing something just for the fun of it in in—forever.

  He sighed and turned on his VPN, then opened the browser and logged into his email account.

  There wasn’t much to see.

  Dak had started a private security firm, more to occupy the his time than anything else. That kind of work paid well for ex-military guys like him, but it was difficult to get clients w
ithout popping his head up above water where Colonel Tucker could might see it. He’d worked a few jobs for Carina Perez, the scourge of Mexican cartels. She paid well, but the jobs she had to offer were few and far between, which put Dak on his rear for long stretches.

  He scrolled through the usual minutia: bills, spammy offers that should have gone to junk mail, discounts on various products he used, and then, he stopped midway down the first page page,when an email subject line caught his eye.

  It said, “Adventurer wanted.”

  Dak’s eyelids narrowed and his forehead tightened at the strange subject line. He didn’t recognize the sender, but from the looks of his email server’s analysis, there was nothing threatening about the message.

  He clicked it and waited, half-expecting a warning to pop up alerting to alert him to of a virus being downloaded to his laptop.

  Instead, a normal text email appeared.

  “Dear DH Security Services.” Dak read the first line aloud, and his puzzlement deepened. “I am looking for someone, someone with the ability to recover ancient artifacts from bad people. These artifacts have been stolen or bought in black markets around the world, and I want them for my personal collection.”

  Dak shifted in his seat. The email read like a child had written it. Not a young child. Perhaps an eight eight- or nine-year-old. He kept reading. “I have more than enough money to pay you for your services and would like to discuss a job, one where you get to travel the world, find adventure, and bring ancient relics and artifacts to someone who will appreciate them. And, if we can find the people they belong to, even better.”

  He paused and looked around, as if he might find the person responsible for the strange message. His little apartment was vacant and gave no answer to the conundrum.

  “If this sounds interesting to you, and you’re up for it, reply to this email and we can make arrangements to meet and discuss terms. I know that you’re trying to lie low. And I know why. Don’t worry. I’m not a creeper or stalker. You come highly recommended by your friend, Will Collins. He thought you might need a little work to keep you from being bored.”