The Moses Riddle (Thomas McAllister 'Treasure Hunter' Adventure Book 1) (15 page)

Arturo and Ann stood frozen in disbelief. Over the roar of the blades, Thomas yelled to Arturo. “Get the truck! Get the truck!”
Arturo scrambled out of the pit and ran for Ann’s truck, while Thomas threw a rope around the crate. Using the pulley system they had set up for a fast extraction, Ann helped him drag the box out of the cavity and onto the wheeled miner’s cart. While they dragged, Thomas glanced over his shoulder at Arturo. Behind the truck, he could see several cars coming up the dirt road from Mercado, lights flashing, a huge curtain of dust behind them.
“Pull, Ann!” Then to himself
, Christ, who are these people? They’re coming out of the woodwork like rats on a sinking ship!
As Ann pushed the box down the hill, the words of Hebrews 9:16 rang in her mind, about how all those who touched the Ark would perish.
Arturo had turned the truck around and the backend was now about twenty feet from the box. Then he was out, opening the back hatch with his face down, eyes shielded from the sand.
The helicopter was directly overhead. Sand whipped all around them. Ann and Thomas desperately pushed the trolley cart with the box on top over to the truck and, with Arturo’s help, heaved the box up onto the back gate.
Arturo slammed the hatch. Thomas yelled, “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll drive!”
The helicopter moved lower. Thomas saw two men. Suddenly a deep voice thundered through a loud speaker,
“Do not move! Face down on the ground. Face down on the ground, now
!”
Ann yanked Thomas’s arm. She was yelling, but he could barely hear her words. “When we pulled the box out, I saw something behind it. There was something behind the box. I’m going back for it!”
Sand pelted both their faces and Thomas yelled
. “There’s no time! Get in the truck. That’s an order
!”
A pellet of sand flew into his left eye. Instinctively, both eyes shut. He reached up to rub them and when he opened them again, he saw Ann running back toward the pyramid. He stole a quick look at the road. The vehicles were much closer, their flashing lights clear through the swirling sand and dirt.
Arturo honked the horn of the truck and motioned for Thomas to hurry. Thomas ran to the passenger window
.
“Ann saw something. She went back. I couldn’t stop her!”
When Thomas turned back toward the pyramid a lightening bolt of panic struck him. A team of four men, dressed in black assault uniforms, were moving quickly over the side of the pyramid, much the same way he’d approached the first night he’d met Ann, only they were carrying machine guns.
Thomas realized he had two choices. Let them have her, hope they wouldn’t hurt her, jump in the truck, and get the hell out of there, or leave Arturo with the truck and attempt to rescue Ann. In the first scenario, he might lose Ann, in the second, they might all get caught and lose the treasure.
He ran after Ann. He had covered ten feet when the soldiers saw him. They began sprinting towards Ann. They reached the base of the pyramid before Thomas did and trained their short barreled close-combat machine guns on him from twenty feet . . . pointblank range. One of the black marauders roughly pulled Ann from the pit and held her tightly, pinning one arm behind her back.
Once Ann was detained, the helicopter made another pass, this time focusing on Thomas. Everyone raised their hands to shield their eyes and Thomas used the diversion to make a dash for the truck. He zigzagged as he ran, like he’d seen people do in the movies. Any second, he expected to hear gunfire, or at least see sand kicking up next to his feet, but nothing happened.
Thomas jerked open the driver’s side door and slid onto the seat. “They got her. Let’s go!”
He slammed the accelerator, the wheels spun, caught, and they sped down the dirt road toward Mercado. Within thirty seconds of driving, they could see the helicopter directly above them through the sunroof. They could also clearly see two military SUV’s driving toward them from Mercado.
Arturo glanced over his shoulder. “The soldiers are handcuffing Ann.” They faded out of sight as dust flew up from the back of the vehicle.
The two camouflage vehicles, which looked like Ford Broncos, had stopped and were turning perpendicular to the road, lights still flashing.
“Who the hell are these people?” Arturo yelled.
Thomas rolled it over in his mind. “I have no idea. It’s got to be whoever was watching me. FBI.” He swerved to avoid a mammoth pothole.
“You think they could have picked you up again?”
“We’ll see who it is soon enough, we can’t outrun these guys. They’ve got a whole goddamn platoon after us out here.”
Whoever had planned the attack had waited until the exact moment he’d extracted the treasure from the pyramid. They knew what they were doing, and were well-equipped.
Thomas cycled back through the timeline. The only other people who had complete knowledge about the treasure were Martha, Arturo, and Ann. In that order. He doubted Martha would ever double cross him. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have had the time or resources to mount this kind of campaign against him. Arturo had been left alone with the treasure for four weeks, ample time to steal it.
He had trusted Ann as much as he had Arturo. Possibly more. He had fallen deeply in love with her. She would have nothing to gain by stealing from him. Anyway, they had spent almost every waking hour together since they’d met. She wouldn’t have had time to plan something like this.
He had been hit at the time when the treasure hunter was most exposed—the moment the treasure was unearthed. Unfortunately most archaeologists and treasure hunters didn’t have contingency plans in case they came under attack. The most they typically had was a gun.
Thomas glanced at Arturo, who was gripping the handle on the dashboard. “The letters on the helicopter are English and those soldiers were not Mexican. Did you get a look at them?”
“Yes. They looked American, or maybe European. Did they say anything?”
“One of them told me to get down on the ground. He sounded American.”
“Looks like they’ve got a roadblock up ahead.”
“The soldiers are positioned behind the trucks. They’ve got guns ready.”
“Take out the binoculars and see if you can get a look.”
Thomas slowed slightly and Arturo took a minute to assess the situation. “Yeah, they’re back there with guns. Think they’ll shoot?”
Thomas looked grave. “If they wanted us dead, they would have shot us back at the pyramid. They had us cold.” Thomas down shifted and the Rover jerked forward. “I’ll reduce speed. When we’re within a hundred feet, I’ll veer to the right, hit that gully over there, and swing around them. We’ll make this look good. Okay?”
“Watch the sand on the median, it’s thicker than on the road. It may grab the tires.”
“Okay, thanks. Once we’re past them, I’ll pull back onto the road. I’ll try my best not to roll it. God, Ann would kill me if she heard me say that.” But Arturo was too nervous to smile.
Two hundred feet from the blockade, Thomas let up on the gas and the Land Rover began to coast. At the point of no return, he briskly downshifted and whipped the car into the gully that ran beside the road. The angle was much steeper than he’d anticipated. They were approaching rollover angle and Thomas felt the left tires come up just as they hit the bottom. He jerked the wheel to the right, then back again. They leveled out and the tires settled onto the dry creek bed.
Thomas could see the soldiers scrambling to get back into their SUV’s. No shots had been fired. Half a mile later, Thomas slowed again and turned back up the escarpment onto the road.
They were fast approaching the town of Mercado. The Broncos were in pursuit and the helicopter was still directly overhead. The road improved as they neared town and Thomas estimated they could hit Mercado doing about seventy miles per hour.
Helicopters were rare in Mercado, as were camouflage Broncos. The villagers lined the street as if there were a parade. As Thomas approached the town he flashed his bright lights and honked his horn, hoping to get people clear of the street.
They flew into town at 75 miles an hour. People on both sides clapped and cheered, grateful for the unexpected diversion.
In less than a minute, they were out of the town and into a dry expansive desert.
The helicopter shot ahead of them. Thomas glanced in the rearview mirror. The Broncos were gaining.
Nose tipping up, the helicopter made a smooth turn, then set down in the middle of the road a quarter of a mile ahead. Thomas instinctively slowed.
“What do we do? Go around them again?”
Thomas considered options. They would gain nothing by going around again. They’d only get sandwiched again five minutes later. Looking back, the Broncos were so close he could see the earnest faces of the two men in the front seats.
think they’ve got us, friend. Let’s find out who the hell’s so interested in our treasure.” He looked back at the crate sitting in the rear of the truck and shook his head. “They sure are serious, and well funded, for Christ’s sake! Helicopters and all.”

The door of the helicopter slid open and a man stepped out. Holding his hat against the gusts created by the propeller, he walked toward Thomas and Arturo until he was clear of the helicopter, and then stopped to assess the situation. He looked beyond the Land Rover at the Broncos, checking their position. He turned back to the helicopter to make sure the road was fully blocked and that the sniper who had been riding with him was out, rifle ready. He did all this as if he owned everything; the vehicles, the helicopter, Mexico, all of it. Only when he felt he had the situation fully under control, just as they’d drawn it on the white-board earlier that day, did he turn his attention back to the Land Rover Discovery.

Silver hair protruded from under his cowboy hat. He wore a tan camel hair blazer over a white oxford cloth shirt, and jeans. He had on cowboy boots and a belt with a slightly oversized belt buckle. He came toward them, but he didn’t walk. He sauntered. He was DJ Warrant, and he knew he’d just stopped a car on a highway in Mexico that contained the most important artifact ever found on the face of the earth. He’d stopped a car that contained the Ark of the Covenant and the Ten Commandments.

He walked right down the center of the road. Beyond him, in the helicopter, Thomas could see a small bald man sitting, typing at a laptop. The cowboy stopped about 20 feet from the Discovery, looked directly at Thomas, and waved him out.

Thomas nodded at Arturo, opened his door and got out. They were in flat desert now, and a hot wind blew across the highway. Thomas stopped five feet in front of the man. Just out of striking distance.

DJ looked at Thomas, smiled, reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, took out a pack of Marlboros and in one blurred motion that Thomas didn’t even completely see he had a cigarette in his mouth and a shiny zippo lighter out to light it.

He looked Thomas in the eye as he lit the cigarette, and said, “You’re bigger, up close. Taller.”
“I’d like to say you look bigger, too, but I’ve never seen a picture of you before, never had you under surveillance, Mr.?”
“You don’t need to know who I am, Thomas McAlister. After today, you’ll never see me again. Nor any of these other men.”
“Disappointing, you’re all so nice. Pleasant. With all your guns and equipment. So I don’t get to know your name. Can I ask what you want with my friend and me?”
“You mean Arturo Bandera? We actually don’t want anything with either of you. We want what you’ve got in the back of that truck, Mr. McAlister.”
“Do you know what I have back there?”
“Sure do. And I’m gonna take it off your hands right now.”
“If you want to take what I have back there, there is nothing I can do to stop you. You’ve got seven men, eight, counting the computer geek with the laptop, and all of them are carrying weapons. I’m curious, though. Do you know the power it possesses? Have you done any reading or research about what it can do?”
“Wives’ tales.”
“No. Biblical tales. Ever read Hebrews? Revelations? Heavy-duty Bible stuff, Tex. The Bible, believe in Christ or not, is a fairly accurate historical document. Do me this favor. Leave it in its box. Don’t touch it! And don’t let any of your men touch it, okay?”

DJ pulled a flat World War II issue Colt .45 automatic from his holster and pointed it at Thomas. He motioned toward the helicopter and four men got out. Two of them carried rope. One carried a crow bar.

Thomas walked slowly to the rear of the Discovery and opened the hatchback. DJ took a look at the box and motioned to someone in the helicopter.

As if choreographed, Elmo jumped down and came running, his laptop open.
DJ pried open the lid of the crate and peered inside, using a short black flashlight for light. Elmo held up the computer so DJ could see it. DJ looked back and forth from the box to the computer a few times, nodded, and then closed the box.
“Okay, boys, take her away.”
They firmly closed the lid to the box, wrapped it tightly with the rope, and then carried it to the helicopter, one man per corner.
DJ followed them. Thomas walked beside him. “That box is heavy. How did you know that the four of them would be able to carry it?”
DJ threw his cigarette on the highway and paused to grind the heel of his boot on it. “It was made by master craftsman Bezalel, of acacia wood. Two and a half cubits long, one and half cubits wide, one and a half cubits tall. The acacia is overlaid with pure gold inside and out. Four rings, one on each corner, cast from gold for the acacia poles used to carry it. Exodus, Chapter 37, verse 1. Four rings, two poles equals four men, Professor.” DJ continued walking.
Thomas followed. “I need to find Ann. Is she back at the pyramid?”
“I don’t know where she is. Why don’t you go back there and see?”
Thomas grabbed his arm, spun him, and said, “Listen, I need to know where she is! Do your men have her or not?”
DJ smoothed the crease on his jacket. “Thomas, relax now. Let’s not get all excited here. You’ve been so good up until now. I’m telling you I don’t know where she is. Why don’t you go back to the pyramid and see if she’s there, okay?”
“Goddamn it, you know exactly where she is! I don’t know who you are, but you’re not the kind of man to leave things to chance. Now I’m asking you where she is, so I can go get her.”
DJ stepped backward and ran his hand over his forehead. As he did, he looked up for a while, and then, in a completely changed tone, said, “Well, I’ll be. I’ve been down here for days and that’s the first Mexican eagle I’ve seen!”
It was an old trick, maybe the oldest. Distraction. But it worked. Thomas looked up and as he did DJ hit him hard in the stomach. He fell to the ground, gasping.
Then DJ boarded the helicopter. Thomas could hear the blades beginning to pick up speed. Between clenched eyelids he could see DJ standing on the platform looking down at him, intense satisfaction on his face, even a little smirk. This case was turning out to be far better than DJ ever would have predicted.
Thomas was still gasping when Arturo reached his side. The helicopter blades were kicking up a blinding gale. Sand pelted them. It felt like hundreds of little bee stings. Just before it got too loud to hear, DJ yelled down at them, “Hey McAlister, I’ll save you some time. Don’t bother looking for Ann at the pyramid. She won’t be there!”