The man nearest the fallen member stepped close to see what the problem was. The man on the ground was writhing in pain, gripping his leg tightly. Then, the flank man who’d come to check on the issue turned quickly and fired off three rounds towards the ground. Hunter moved up quickly to see what had happened.
“It’s a snakebite, sir,” the man who’d just fired his weapon explained. He pointed to the large diamondback rattler that lay motionless with three bloody wounds in its scaly flesh, a prominent one in its head.
The injured mercenary named tried to keep from moaning too loudly as the venom of the snake moved through his bloodstream. Terror filled the man’s eyes.
Out in the middle of nowhere, they were at least forty-five minutes from the nearest hospital. That was about how long the poison from a rattlesnake took to kill a man, depending on the last time the snake had used its fangs.
Hunter recalled what a friend had told him once about receiving a snakebite. He’d said that the venom moving through the body felt like every inch of bone was being crushed as it progressed through the bloodstream.
“They should have a snakebite kit in the information center,” one of the other team members declared.
Carlson looked down at the man who continued to writhe in agony. Hope welled up in the bitten man’s eyes for a moment as he realized the tourist center would certainly have a kit. A typical snakebite kit could stabilize him long enough to get him to a hospital. It would also draw unwanted attention. Hunter raised his weapon and fired a single shot into Thompson’s head. The body went limp on the sandy earth. Dead eyes on either side of a dark hole stared up into the desert sky.
The team leader looked at the remaining two men. “I would do the same to you and would expect both of you to do the same to me. Understood?”
Both men nodded immediately.
Following Hunter’s lead, the other two helped drag the body over behind a large patch of sage and left it on the ground unceremoniously. He hadn’t wanted to kill one of his assets, but the man had been careless. The three stepped towards the entrance to the canyon passage with renewed caution. They could ill afford any more surprises.
Tommy stared at the magnificent golden leaf. Its odd shape was like no artifact he’d ever seen before. He’d thrown down several glow sticks that he’d taken from his pack. The devices cast an eerie, pale light across the room. He squatted down to get a better view underneath the bottom of the yellow metal. Reaching up, he tipped part of the object up just slightly. Just as he suspected, there was a small stone column that the gold rested upon. “That’s what I thought,” he stated in frustration.
“What is it?” Will asked, curiously as he stepped around to the side Schultz was investigating.
“A weight spring,” he said plainly. Will raised an eyebrow, obviously not sure what a weight spring was. Tommy explained, “Since they didn’t have real springs back then, they had to improvise. So, they came up with a small weight and balance system, sort of like a teeter-totter. If you take the weight off of one side the other side will go down. They didn’t use strings or metal for stuff like this because those materials would deteriorate over time.”
“There’s a contraption like that inside that pedestal?” Will looked amazed by the thought.
“Looks like it. If we take that piece of gold off I’m not sure what will happen.”
“No booby traps, huh?” Will’s voice was every bit as sarcastic as the look on his face.
Tommy didn’t respond. Instead, he carefully lowered the edge of the piece back down and stood up scratching his head. “We need to get this thing out of here,” he said after a moment of thought.
“Why don’t you just replace the gold with something else that will keep the weight down?” Will interrupted his thoughts.
“That’s the other problem. It could be designed for a particular weight. That would mean anything too heavy or too light would set off the mechanism. There’s no way to know.”
“So, what do we do?” Will asked.
“I wouldn’t do anything if I were you.” The new voice startled both men; they quickly turned their heads towards the dark passageway.
Three new beams of light entered the dimly lit chamber, each mounted on the top of a handgun. Will started to make a move for his own weapon but one of the figures emerging from the corridor flashed a light in his direction. “I wouldn’t do that either,” the same voice warned.
Tommy turned to Will but could see the cop wasn’t sure what to do either. They were trapped.
Chapter 29
Alexander Lindsey sat in a high-back leather chair at the end of a long, mahogany conference table, staring at the seven men occupying the rest of the seats. His face was stern and his eyes unfeeling as he peered at each and every one of them. “The answer is no,” he said plainly.
An older man positioned near the middle of the table, to Lindsey’s right, looked outraged. “You have some nerve, you ungrateful swine. After all we have done for you-”
“All you have done for me?” Lindsey interrupted. “Tell me, Wallace, what you- any of you- have ever done for me.”
Another man, probably Alexander’s age, spoke up across the table. His face was thin and his hair had obviously been receding for years. “We brought you in. Took you to places you’d never have gotten on your own. Then, you abandoned your faith, your church, and your honor.”
“Honor? Don’t speak to me about honor, Nicholas,” he replied with disgust. “I did more for the church and the faith than anyone else. It was my programs, my ideas that created the vast revenue stream that you so enjoyed for such a long time. “The well has dried up and you have overextended yourselves. Now you come to me asking for a handout after turning your back on me sixteen years ago?” No one else at the table said a word. They were all obviously frustrated. He continued, “All I asked for was to be the next president of the church. I could have taken it to new heights. You would all be richer than anyone in the country and all of your precious little mission work would be better funded than if it had come from the Vatican. “But you wouldn’t have it.” His voice became bitter.
“You wanted control. Your motivations were not pure, Alex,” the older man spoke up again. “We offered you a chance to stay with the cabinet, but you wanted it all. And you wanted it for your own glory, not the glory of God.”
“How glorious is your God now that you’re broke?” The dark cynicism of his voice resonated through the room.
“That is blasphemy, Alex. May God have mercy on you.”
Lindsey grinned on one side of his mouth. “Mercy on me? I’m doing just fine. You’re the ones who need my money.”
“We know what you’re up to,” a younger man who’d sat silently at the other end of the table spoke eagerly, as if he’d been holding it in the whole hour. A hushed silence fell across the room. The man who looked mid-thirties appeared uncertain that he should have said anything.
“What, pray tell, am I up to?” Alexander narrowed his eyes, curious as to who this buck thought he was.
“My name is Rick Baker,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, “and I know about the treasure you’re trying to find.”
“Is that so?”
The rest of the men at the table looked confused. One leaned in close to Rick and asked him silently, “What are you talking about?”
Baker ignored him. “I know what you are trying to find, and why you’re trying to find it.”
“I have many hobbies, one of which is archaeology, but that is no concern of yours or this little ‘committee’.” Lindsey said the last word with deep sarcasm.