The Cleric's Vault (36 page)

She’d
heard everything Wyatt and his friends had said thanks to a listening device
positioned right outside their room.
 
The little group was heading east to a location near some river.
 
She’d never liked puzzles or
riddles.
 
It wasn’t that she wasn’t
smart enough to solve them.
 
She
felt it was just a waste of time.
 
It was much easier to be a parasite and just follow along, letting their
host do the hard work.
 
Then her
unit could make the grab when the time was right.
 
That was what she knew.
 
Killing was as simple as pulling a trigger.
 
Stealing was just reaching out at the
right moment and taking it.
 
Her
team’s vehicles had been parked back on the other side of the building so as to
go unseen by Wyatt and his friends.
 
She’d left drivers with them for the ability to get moving quickly when
needed.
 
As Angela expected, the
SUVs pulled around a few moments later and her team loaded up.

The
winding drive down the mountain was scenic, something she’d been unable to
notice the night before.
 
The expanse
of the city spread out in the basin below, edging upward into mountains far
away.
 
She was not a nostalgic
person, nor one who carried a great deal of sentiment.
 
Most of the pleasures she enjoyed in
life were not what others would consider “normal.”
 
But she didn’t care.
 
Her religious beliefs differed from most people.
 
She and James had been tutored directly
by The Prophet right out of college.
 
He’d told them the truth about the Christian religion they’d grown up
with and how it was a bunch of myths and grand tales built to control the
masses with fear and promises of a fantastic afterlife.
 
Instead, he’d shown them a different
path.
 
She never really latched
onto his religious zeal.
 
To her,
life presented too many delights to pass up on the off chance there might be a
judgment.
 
On the other hand,
Angela figured it was okay to hedge her bets just in case.
 

 
She smiled as the sun’s rays splashed
onto her face through the windshield.
 
The convoy continued down the road, nearing the outlying buildings of
the city.
 
She was proud of herself
for being able to push beyond mere human emotions and do the job she knew she
had to do.
 
And at last, she was
close to her reward.

Chapter 62

Washington, D.C.

Eric
Jennings sat casually in his desk chair, shuffling through some paperwork.
 
He felt like nothing could touch
him.
 
Even the menial tasks of
reviewing reports and checking up on other assignments couldn’t bring him
down.
 
He’d managed to eliminate
his two biggest loose ends, his only loose ends.
 
Perhaps killing Emily Starks wasn’t necessary.
 
After all, she didn’t know anything
yet.
 
But it was only a matter of
time until she asked too many questions.
 
Just like Sam Townsend had.
 

He
felt no remorse for the murders.
 
It was just a means to an end.
 
Jennings had given the best years of his life for the
Department of Justice and for what, some measly retirement account that would
barely cover his monthly expenses?
 
Well,
barely
as far as his
needs were concerned.

His
mind drifted to some of those needs.
 
One of the escorts would do nicely for the evening.
 
He deserved a treat, after all.
 
Maybe he would get the tall red head.
 
Since the police were still
investigating the death of the intruder in his home, he was staying at a hotel
a few blocks up from his office, which was perfect since he preferred the women
not know where he lived.
 
He became
eager at the thought of the fun he would have and after a few more minutes of
sorting out the last of the paperwork, picked up his cell phone.
 
A key to his hotel room would be left
at the front desk for his female companion.
 
She could make herself comfortable and expect him around six
in the evening.
 

Satisfied
with his decision, Jennings hung up the phone and grabbed a television remote
that was sitting on his desk nearby.
 
He pressed a few buttons and came across the news report he’d been
waiting for.
 
A slender,
African-American woman with creamy, cocoa skin was reporting that Sam Townsend
had been found, shot dead in his home earlier that morning.
 
His maid found the body.
 
The hysterical Russian woman was
sobbing uncontrollably as they interviewed her briefly.
 
It was hard to understand what she was
saying because of her heavy accent.
 
Jennings assumed she was saying something about finding the body on the floor
with blood all over the place.
 

“Police still have no leads as far as suspects are
concerned and have been, as yet, unable to find the murder weapon.”

Jennings
knew they would not find a murder weapon.

Eventually,
they would make the connection between the dead man from Jennings’s home and
Townsend’s murder, with a little suggestive assistance from him of course.
 
The case would be open and shut before
the end of the week.
 

The
reporter was going on about Townsend’s career and his meteoric climb through
the ranks until his appointment to the new agency in charge of corruption.
 
It was mostly stuff that news teams
always reported when someone important or famous died.
 
A quick bio and then on to sports.

He
wondered why they hadn’t mentioned Starks’ murder yet but figured he’d either
missed it or no one had discovered the body.
 
It had surprised him a little that Townsend’s corpse had
been discovered so soon but that was the way things went sometimes.

Soon
enough, he would get a call asking if he’d heard about Emily’s untimely death
and how weird it was that her and Sam were killed on the same night.
 
He would play sad and confused for a
few days and then move on.
 
No one
would know a thing.

Chapter 63

Ecuador

The
SUV bumped and rolled its way along an old path that cut through the
forest.
 
Any signs of a road had
long since been left behind.
 
There
wasn’t much to tell that a road or a trail had ever even been there except the
odd lack of trees and plants.

Hunter
had stopped just outside a small village about twenty minutes before and asked
for help from a few of the townspeople.
 
He showed them the map and pointed at the dot where the two lines
merged.
 
Most of the people had
turned their heads away and went back inside their buildings.
 
It had been an odd thing, like they
knew where it was but weren’t going to tell him.
 
That or they thought they’d seen the devil himself.
 
Every single person he’d come in contact
with had been full of smiles and very friendly until he showed them the
map.
 
Finally, he found a boy who
looked to be about twelve, playing with a makeshift soccer ball in the
street.
 
When Hunter Carlson showed
him the map and asked in Spanish if he knew where it was, the boy nodded
happily.
 
For a young one, the kid
was extremely detailed about the directions.
 
He’d basically walked them to the location in his mind.
 
Carlson figured that he’d been there
before, though he couldn’t figure out why.
 
Surely it wasn’t for the same reason they were headed there.

Tommy
had remained silent in the passenger’s side the entire journey.
 
Will was in the back, tied up so he
couldn’t cause any problems.
 
It
was, no doubt, an uncomfortable position probably made infinitely worse by the
bumpy road trail that jostled everything in the vehicle.

“Who
are you?”
 
Tommy said, breaking the
silence for the first time since they’d left the village.

Carlson
smiled out of the corner of his mouth.
 
He’d not felt like making small talk with someone he was going to end up
killing.
 
He learned a long time
ago not to get to know your victims.
 
It wasn’t that it made things much harder when it came time to pull the
trigger.
 
But it certainly did make
it easier if you knew the person had a cat at home.
 
It was just simpler to not know personal stuff.
 
“I’m just a guy,” Carlson said
plainly.
 

“Who
do you work for?”
 
Tommy
persisted.
 
He watched the driver
with every bit of focus he could muster.

“Ah,”
Carlson raised a finger.
 
“Now that
is a fascinating question.
 
You
see, I don’t really know who I’m working for.
 
I just know these two guys needed me to do this job for
them.
 
They said there’s a bunch of
treasure and that I’ll get a healthy cut of whatever I find.
 
Plus, they gave me money up front.
 
Hard to turn that down.”

“Do
you even know what you’re looking for?” Tommy asked in a condescending tone.

“Some
kind of ancient vault.
 
Gold, I’m
assuming.”
 

Hunter
stopped the truck at the end of the trail under the shade of a large, leafy
tree and turned off the engine.
 
He
opened his door and motioned for Tommy to do the same.
 
“Looks like the end of the line for
driving.
 
Guess we have to hike our
way in from here.”

Schultz
said nothing but obeyed and exited the vehicle.
 

Carlson
motioned towards the thick growth of trees.
 
In the direction he was pointing, Tommy could make out a
thin trail.
 
It was barely visible
but he could tell at least some kind of animals had used it in the past.
 
“Let’s get moving,” Carlson said.

“What
do you mean?” Tommy protested.
 
“What about Will?
 
You’re
not just going to leave him there in the back of the truck.”

“I
cracked a window,” he replied as he pointed at a small sliver of space at the
top of the window.
 
“Besides, it’s
not hot out here.
 
He’ll be fine.
 
For now.”
 
The last two words carried a sinister threat.

“Now
move.”

Tommy
knew there was nothing he could do to change the man’s mind.
 
He refrained from arguing and started
trudging off into the woods.
 
Carlson followed close behind, holding the gun tight and aiming it right
at the small of Tommy’s back.

*****

Sean
stopped the vehicle in a small village about forty minutes outside of
Cuenca.
 
He had left Mauricio
behind in the city to deal with the situation that had escalated the night
before.
 
He’d wanted to go with
Sean but if he didn’t stay and take care of things, matters could get out of
hand.
 
Sean understood.
 
His stout friend may not have been of
any help on their search anyway.
 
He hoped that Delgado wouldn’t find himself in any legal trouble, though
he doubted that would be an issue.
 
Mauricio had many friends in many important places.

Adriana
had noted that Mauricio never revealed much about himself during the time she’d
seen the man.
 
She had asked Sean
about Mauricio, but he offered no information, merely stating that, “He’s a man
of many resources.”

A
few chickens ran here and there on the dirt street.
 
The place seemed like somewhere time had forgotten.
 
There were a few electrical lines that
ran along the road but it was doubtful the area had many other amenities.
 

An
old woman was walking along the street and looked at them with a peculiar
stare.
 

“Buenos
Dias, senora,” Sean greeted the woman.
 

She
was mumbling something to him that he couldn’t quite pick up.
 
However, Adriana was on the driver’s
side of the truck and was able to hear the conversation.
 

“The
woman is saying how odd it is to see the same car twice in an hour with
different people driving it.”

Sean’s
eyes grew big.
 
“They came through
here?” he asked in Spanish.

Instead
of giving an answer, she just walked away, seemingly angry at something.

Wyatt
was confused.
 

“What
did I say?” he looked at Adriana for an answer.
 
She shrugged and said nothing.
 

Sean
noticed a young boy in the street ahead, carrying a soccer ball.
 
“Let’s ask him.”

*****

The
homing device was working perfectly.
 
Angela had it planted on Wyatt’s vehicle during the night, making it
easy to follow her prey without the risk of being noticed.
 
Effectively, she could stay right on
his heels yet out of sight.

When
the dot on her tracking screen came to a stop, they pulled off to the side of
the road just after entering the small village.
 
The little town was dirty, third worldly.

She
just couldn’t believe that some people were still essentially, savages, living
like animals in some places.

The
blinking dot on the screen started moving again and Angela was about to tell
the driver to get going too but it stopped suddenly.

“What
are they doing?” she asked, almost to herself.

“Traffic?”
the driver half-joked.

“Only
if it’s a donkey and a bunch of chickens blocking the road,” she remarked
harshly.
 

She
tried to see down into the small, three-street town to find out what was going
on, but from their vantage point on a small hill, she couldn’t see anything
except some rickety buildings.
 
Another anxious minute passed.
 
Angela wondered if Wyatt or one of his companions noticed they were
being followed.
 
There was no way
for her to know.
 
She shrugged off
the irrational paranoia and sat back in her seat.
 
After another minute the little red dot on the screen
started moving again.
 
Angela
nodded at her driver and the man stepped on the gas and eased the truck back
out onto the road.

*****

Will
had overheard the man’s conversation with Tommy just before they headed into
the woods.
 
He had seen the man
before.
 
In fact, he knew who the
guy was.
 
Hunter Carlson.
 
Will made sure to know who most of the
top assets were in his field.
 
And
since his field was somewhat of a shallow pond, it was pretty easy to figure
out who was who.
 
Carlson was
good.
 
Very good.
 
From what Will had heard, the man was
ruthless, clever, and had a very short memory when it came to killing.
 
He reminded him of himself, which made
Will hate the man even more.

Carlson
also carried himself with a casual nature.
 
It was probably one of the reasons he’d been so
successful.
 
Will knew someone like
that could lure in the most suspicious of marks before they even knew what
happened.

The
ropes were tight on his wrists, irritating the skin from the rubbing and
jostling of the last hour.
 
Will
was angry that he’d let Carlson get the drop on him.
 
He’d told himself it could have happened to anyone.
 
That was probably true.
 
The rope around his ankles wasn’t as
tight.
 
Maybe that was all the
wiggle room he needed. When Carlson had checked to make sure Will wouldn’t be
able to get free, he’d paid more attention to the bindings on his hands instead
of his feet.
 
It made sense.
 
Hands seemed much more likely a tool of
escape than feet.
 
That was
something that he was extremely glad for at the moment.
 

He
twisted his body around and managed to get onto his back despite his hands
being bound from behind.
 
The
thought had crossed his mind to try and kick the rear window out, but he
figured the sound it would make would be too loud.
 

Instead,
he decided to try to open the back door.
 
His shoe was just small enough that he could hook his big toe under the
latch.
 
Just as he thought, the toe
of the shoe slipped beneath the shiny metal and he pulled back on it.
 
Nothing happened.
 
His hope turned into distress
instantly.
 
The door was locked.

*****

“That’s
Mauricio’s other truck up ahead,” Sean declared as they bumped and rolled along
the old road towards the forest.
 
He let off on the gas slightly and approached the other vehicle with
cautious reservation.
 
About twenty
feet short of it, he stopped the car all together.
 
Wyatt and Villa peered through the windshield to see if
there was anyone in the other truck.
 
Through the tinted back windows they could see all the way through the
front of it.
 
“Looks empty,” Sean
said and opened his door slowly.
 
He gripped his Ruger .40 in his right hand just to be safe.
 

Suddenly,
they heard a loud thud and instinctively both of them dropped to the high
grass.

“What
was that?” Sean whispered loudly.

She
shrugged.
 
“I have no idea.
 
It came from the back of the truck.”

Sean
started to get up off the ground when the thud sounded again.
 
It was definitely coming from the back
of the SUV.
 
This time, he stayed
crouching low and made his way over to the rear door of the truck.
 
The thud resounded again.
 
Someone was in the back of the
truck.
 
Wyatt stepped back and
around to the side of the vehicle, making sure to check up ahead in the trees
of the forest to make sure it wasn’t some kind of ambush.
 
He pointed his gun around to different
positions for a moment.
 
Satisfied
they weren’t being watched, he risked a quick glanced into one of the back
windows of the truck.
 
Inside, he
saw Will tied up and about to try to kick the rear window out.
 
Sean tapped casually on the glass with
the tip of his gun.
 
Will heard the
tapping and looked up to see Sean standing outside the truck.
 
“It’s Will,” Sean said to Adriana as he
quickly stepped back around to the rear of the truck and tried to open the
back.