“Did he use gold in the Bell?”
I nodded. “Its fuel consisted of a liquid formulation of gold and mercury. When the Sand Demons captured the Bell, they found a supply of the stuff, which they used to refuel it over the years.”
“So maybe that’s all he meant.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “Maybe he was just trying to tell you that the gold was used as fuel, or if you will, the foundation of the Bell.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
I replayed the conversation over and over in my mind. His wording struck me as rather strange. Why would he use the term foundation?
Unless…
Swiveling to the side, I saw a small pile in the northwest corner of the room. I marched over and knelt down. My flashlight illuminated a couple of bricks, sending brilliant rays of light cascading in a million directions. I shielded my eyes and leaned in close.
My heart began to race. “These aren’t ordinary bricks.”
I picked up one of them. It weighed a ton. Brushing off the powdery surface, I saw a picture of a bird perched atop a wreath that held the Nazi symbol. Silently, I read the lettering.
Deutsche Reichsbank. 1 kilo. Feingold. 999.9.
I glanced at the wall. If my memory was correct, the entire surface had previously consisted of brick. But now, many of those bricks appeared to be missing.
Confused, I started to put the heavy brick back on the ground. But my eye caught some tiny scratches. Leaning down, I saw a few lines of text.
If you found this, then you know I was already here. I need to apologize. I lied to you. I can’t explain it now, but the Bell was never my main priority. I was after these bars, from the very first day we met.
I know you have feelings for her. When you sort them out, come find me if you want. All you need is this bar. It and the others are not what they appear to be. Until we meet again…B.G.
Her words slammed into me like a subway train. I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Beverly had returned to the laboratory and stolen what remained of Hartek’s gold. But what did her cryptic message mean? And why had she been after the gold in the first place? For its value? Or some other reason?
I didn’t understand it. But as I looked back at Diane, I wasn’t sure that I even cared. Maybe she was enough for me. Maybe not.
Either way, I intended to find out.
Reaching over, I gently touched her face. Then, I guided her lips to mine and we kissed. Electric shocks ran through my brain and I forgot everything around me.
Everything but her.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Making up for lost time.”
“You’ve been gone for three years, you know.”
I grinned as I guided her onto the floor. “Well, I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Meyer is an adventurer and author of the Cy Reed series. His books take readers across the globe, from New York's lost subway tunnels to forgotten laboratories buried deep beneath Antarctica's frozen tundra. To find out more about David, his adventures, and his books, visit www.GuerrillaExplorer.com.