“Mauricio?” Tommy looked hopeful.
“If it isn’t then we might be in some trouble,” Sean answered.
As the helicopter drew closer they could see through one of the windows that their friend was indeed inside. He waved to them from one of the seats in the rear cabin. A few minutes later, the aircraft had landed in a nearby meadow. Delgado beamed at them as they approached from the riverbank. “Tommy! I’m glad you’re okay! We were worried sick about you.”
Tommy smiled. “I’m fine,” he said and held out a small stone disc. On the top of it were three pyramids of varying sizes.
Delgado flipped it over and saw another set of symbols. There was a small figure bowing down to a bird carved into the stone. His eyebrows lowered. “You found the treasure of Carlos Crespi?”
Schultz nodded. “It will be quite a task to get back to it, but I think we have the resources.”
“What does it mean?” Delgado asked with intense curiosity. His eyes still stared at the disc.
Sean patted him on the back. “I think it means we’re going to Egypt.”
Chapter 68
Eric Jennings made his way down the opulent hallway of The Fairfax, one of the more prestigious hotels in The District. He’d decided to indulge a little, seeing how he felt like he’d been under considerable stress over the last week. He still hadn’t received any news about Starks’ death. Perhaps she wasn’t going to be missed by anyone after all. It wasn’t his concern anymore, though. There had been a slight hesitation when he was considering the booking. The Fairfax was extremely close to Embassy Row, but he figured he didn’t really associate with many of the people in that part of town so the likelihood of being noticed would be negligible.
The halls of The Fairfax were decorated elegantly with gold painted molding and classic architecture. It was certainly far nicer than what he was used to getting with one of his women.
He arrived at his room and slid the electronic key into the slot. A moment later the green light beeped and the door unlocked.
When he opened it, he was greeted with an intoxicating scent of a woman’s perfume. The room was dark, save for a small lamp that was lit from behind a curtain giving the chamber a soft, eerie illumination.
He removed his trench coat and loosened the tie around his neck then stepped towards the corner of the suite where a bed and sitting area were located.
In the pale light, he could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in one of the chairs near the window. The outline of her body was lithe and firm. The creamy white skin of her legs was accented by tight, black lingerie. Her breasts were pushed up slightly by a matching black bra. Her face, though, was hidden by a dark shadow that began at the base of her neck. Jennings smiled as he stared at the woman. His old friend had outdone himself again.
“Hello,” he said casually. “What’s your name?”
“My name doesn’t matter,” the voice emanated from the shadows.
He shrugged. “I suppose not.” He took off his belt and set his gun down on the counter next to the flat screen television. The television was on but the screen was blank. He pointed at it with his thumb. “Anything good on?”
“Actually,” she replied in a slow, sexy tone, “there is. Someone has been a very bad boy.”
She uncrossed her legs then re-crossed them while she spoke.
“Oh, have I?” He played along. “I guess I’m going to have to be punished.”
“Indeed.”
“Was that sarcasm in her voice?” he thought to himself. He liked this one. She had a little attitude. Maybe not as young as he would have liked but that could be made up for in other ways. He undid his pants and dropped them to the floor revealing gray, pinstripe boxers. As he was unbuttoning his tie, she lifted a hand with a remote in it and pressed a button.
At first, the vision on the screen was a little dark and blurry but when it came into focus, Jennings’ eyes grew wide with realization.
It was surveillance footage of him entering Emily Starks’ bedroom the night before. He watched in horror as the man on the screen walked over and fired bullets into the head of the sleeping woman then left quickly. His face was unmistakable in the footage.
He turned his head back to the woman in the corner. “Where did you get this?” he demanded.
Then she leaned forward, revealing her face. It was Emily Starks.
Jennings staggered backwards a few steps, placing his hand on the corner of the wall to regain his balance. He shook his head. “No. That’s impossible!”
“What’s the matter, Eric? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She smiled as she stood up with her hands behind her back. Her long, brown hair dropped teasingly over one shoulder.
“I killed you!” he yelled.
“No.” She stopped, keeping her distance from him. “You killed a dummy. I watched from the closet as you snuck into my room and pulled the trigger.”
He kept shaking his head. He’d been so certain, so careful.
She continued, “I knew you couldn’t be trusted, Eric. So I played it safe. Now, there are twenty agents waiting outside to take you away as soon as we walk out that door.”
He stood silent for a moment. All his years of hard work, his pension, retirement, everything passed before his eyes. It was all gone now. The only luxury resort he would see would be Leavenworth, Kansas.
His eyes darted quickly over to the weapon on the counter.
She saw what he was thinking. “Don’t do that, Eric. There’s no way out of here.” Jennings had information she needed. Emily needed him alive. “Who are you working for, Eric?”
His face was full of despair like a child who had been caught breaking a window. He said nothing at first, just staring at her.
“Eric,” she urged, “who are you working for? Make it easy on yourself. I need a name.”
Jennings’s lips quivered. “I worked my way up,” he finally said. “I did everything by the book.” He laughed at the last sentence. If he was expecting some kind of pity from Starks, he was going to be disappointed. Her face remained stoic, hardened by the fact that he’d tried to kill her in her sleep. “They offered me a way out, promised me more money than I’d see in twenty years working for the government.” He paused and looked down as he thought about the money he’d received from Golden Dawn. Then he his eyes moved back to her for a second as if considering her words. “Make it easy on yourself,” she’d said. Then he lunged for the gun. Grasping it in his left hand, he was about to raise it when he saw that Emily already had her own weapon trained on him.
“Put the gun down, Eric. It doesn’t have to end like this, but if you don’t put the weapon down I will shoot you.”
Her voice carried more than a threat. It was a fact. Starks may have been a desk worker in the Justice Department, but she hadn’t gotten there by being soft. He knew her record, knew how many confirmed kills she’d had in the field. She meant every word.
“Eric. Who is running Golden Dawn, and what are they up to?”
He raised the gun slowly over his head as he turned to face her.
Visions of the beach and luxurious golf courses, women, gourmet food, and a life of luxury entered his mind. He would have none of that now. Then slowly, he began to lower the gun towards the temple of his head, just above the ear.
“Eric. Stop. Don’t move, Eric! Don’t do it!”
As soon as the barrel was pressed against his skin, he squeezed the trigger.