"I feel like you're just shoveling myths that you and your buddies sling around at the poker table."
"No! Please! I'm telling the truth. They found something in the 1800s, somewhere in Alaska. Okay? I don't know where it is. Like I said, I've only heard the rumors myself, but according to what I've heard, it's how the KGC are what they are today."
"So, they found a big gold deposit? Some kind of ancient treasure?"
"All of that… and more."
"More?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yes. They say there's some kind of power generator, something that makes gold."
And now they were back in left field again. "Sounds like you're talking about alchemy," Adriana said with a derisive look.
"I know. It's crazy. I'm just telling you what I know. That's what you wanted."
His eyes suddenly fixed on a spot over Adriana's shoulders, high in the trees. His body shook violently. Veins popped out of his forehead and his neck like he was straining hard against something.
Then his body went limp.
"Officer Einhorn?" Adriana said, bending down to see what was the matter.
She let go of the jumper cable, allowing it to fall into the water bin. She'd been bluffing the whole time. The battery hadn't been charged yet.
She pressed two fingers to the man's neck. No pulse. She pulled up one sleeve on his shirt to repeat the examination on his wrist. At the base of his hand, an eye was tattooed on his skin. She looked at it closely and realized it was covering up a surgical scar. A half inch farther up the forearm was a little bump just under the skin. It was about the shape of a pill. The tattoo was one she recognized: the Eye of Horus. From what she recalled of her studies regarding ancient Egypt, the eye was used as a symbol of protection. What that had to do with this guy, she wasn't sure.
Adriana snapped her head around, scanning the surrounding forest. No one was there, at least not that she could see. Someone had just killed her prisoner from a remote location. She wondered how many people had similar devices installed under their skin.
The rabbit hole had just gotten deeper.
Chapter 16
"We have to look at the facts so far," Sean said. He turned his head one way and then the other, eying the other faces in the little coffee shop.
Chattanooga's south side had turned into a trendy place for bars, restaurants, and coffee shops. It was also a great place to lie low since there were few traffic cameras around and he knew relatively few people in that part of the city. That wasn't to say he would let his guard down.
"Right. And we need to get this to a lab," Tommy said, tapping a finger on the top of the metal box.
They'd debated opening the thing in the car, but decided not to risk it. Whatever was inside could be delicate and easily destroyed, especially in a vehicle.
"Honestly, right now we don't know who we can trust except each other."
"Well, and the ladies."
"True. My point is we may not get a better opportunity than right here."
Tommy looked mortified. "You mean open it here? In this coffee shop?"
Sean surveyed the room again. "Yeah. Nothing but a bunch of hipsters and freelancers in here. It's clean enough. Doubt we'll do better anytime soon."
He took a sip of his cortado, letting the nutty flavors swirl around on his tongue before he swallowed.
Tommy was still hesitant. He panned the room as well to make sure no one was watching or listening. He returned his gaze to Sean and leaned across the table, bracing himself on his elbows.
"It's not the ideal place," he said.
"I know. Here's the other thing to consider. We could walk out that door right now and be scooped up by dirty cops or worse… CIA, NSA, you name it."
Tommy licked his lips as he stared at the box. "Okay," he said. "We do it here. Just do me a favor, and put your coffee on that table next to us." He set his cup on the table to the right. Sean did as told, placing his cortado next to Tommy's drink.
Tommy took a deep breath and sighed slowly as he centered the tin container on the table in front of him. He worked his fingernails under the lid and paused.
"You're sure you want to—"
"Just open it," Sean said. "We might not get another chance."
Tommy swallowed and nodded. "Okay, here goes."
The lid was on tight, sealed not only by the previous owner but also by time. His knuckles turned white as he pulled hard.
"Need me to get it?" Sean asked with a playful smirk.
The top of the box popped free, and they both held their breath for a second.
"No," Tommy said, returning the smirk. "I got it."
They leaned over and stared into the container.
An old piece of parchment was folded inside. The two friends glanced at each other and then returned to the box's contents.
Tommy took a dry napkin from the table and bent it between two fingers. Carefully, he reached into the container and pinched the parchment between the folds of the napkin, lifting it out with delicate precision.
"Spread out a couple of napkins on this table," Tommy said. "We don't know what kind of chemical residue might be on it from cleaning."
Sean did as told and hurriedly spread out two napkins flat on the surface.
Tommy eased the parchment down onto the makeshift tablecloth and let it go. He took another quick look around the room to make sure no one was watching before he picked up another napkin and pinched one corner of the parchment.
"I really need gloves for this," he said.
"I know, pal, but you're doing great."
Tommy had done this sort of thing hundreds of times. Usually, though, it was in a controlled, dry environment in their labs in Atlanta.
He ever-so-gently peeled back the first fold in the parchment, overly aware that the slightest mistake could tear the page or remove a layer that might contain valuable information. When the first fold was done, he sighed with relief and set to work on the next fold.
Tommy repeated the process two more times before the entire parchment was unfolded and laid out on the table.
The two friends stared at it in awe. The ink had faded to near invisibility over the years and was barely readable.
"It's a note," Tommy said. "Looks like some kind of journal entry."
"Without the journal."
"Hard to make out what it says. Cursive is hard enough to read when it hasn't gone through 150 years of fading."
Sean scooted his chair around so he wasn't attempting to read the parchment upside down. He leaned around the table corner, squeezing close to Tommy.
They read the note silently.
The rebs are on our trail, and we're running low on fuel. We have the map and the location of the thing the rebels were looking for. We will have to abandon the mission soon. I've given the map to Knight. Andrews asked Knight and me to split up since we're the fastest runners. I have the difficult task of going back to the South toward Atlanta. There I will attempt to blend in until I can secure transport back to Northern lines.
The plan is simple. Knight is to get the map to Secretary of State Seward. This note is for President Lincoln. If either of us fails, we are to hide our half somewhere safe.
The map Knight carries is useless without this note. Likewise, this note is useless without his map. We did this to ensure the rebs wouldn't easily find the location of the artifact.
I pray we are successful.
Sean and Tommy finished reading the main passage and then looked at a strange sequence of letters at the bottom.
C S E M N
D N L
"Code," Sean said.
"Two lines. Mostly consonants."
"What would you give to buy a vowel right now?" Sean joked.
"Right. Even if we moved all those letters around in a thousand different ways, it won't spell anything coherent."