Attention switched to the New Yorker.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.” Lauren was quick enough to cover her surprise and jump straight on the comms for an update. “Give me something.”
Immediately, as if by fate, some good news came back. Lauren put it on speaker. “Hey people, good to see we’re all still kickin’.” Mr. Obnoxious back on the line. “Well, the good news is whilst you boys have been getting your share of zees, I’ve been slaving away over a red hot computer. So, first the second Horseman and Conquest. Miss Jaye? The big dogs are barking.”
Hayden shook her head. “Speak American, asshole, or I’ll have you fired.”
Drake glanced across, knowing she was still playing for time. At the end of the day the linchpin code was in their possession and the Americans knew it. A thought struck him then and he signaled for her to join him at the back of plane.
Together, quietly, they huddled.
“Would it be possible to simply lose one of the sheets?” he asked. “The crucial one.”
She stared. “Sure, if you wanna paint a target on us. They’re not that stupid.”
He shrugged. “I know, but look at the alternative.”
Hayden sat back. “Well, I guess we’re already fucked. What harm could one more act of insubordination cause?”
“Let’s ask SEAL Team 7 when they get here.”
The two stared at each other for a while, both wondering just what exactly the other team’s orders were. The secrecy of it all worried them. Hayden heard the obnoxious man start to speak again and turned.
“Agent Jaye, Washington wants to know the exact details of the Conquest box.”
“Tell them I’ll get back to them.”
“Umm, really? Okay.”
“Do you have anything new?”
“Yeah, yeah, we do. Give me a sec.”
Hayden turned back to Drake. “Decision time, Matt. All the way in?”
Drake rocked back on his heels and offered a grin. “Always.”
Hayden plucked a sheet of paper from the pile.
“You already found the right sheet?”
“I thought of this two hours ago.”
“Ah.”
Together, and without another second of agonizing, they destroyed a crucial clue in the linchpin chain. Hayden then tucked all the sheets back together and deposited them back in the Order’s box. The rest of the team eyed them both without comment.
Together, they were as one.
“All right.” The man from DC had returned. “Now we are well and truly cooking on gas. It seems the Order of the Last Judgment were spot on with their descriptions of the third Horseman — Famine. The Worst Indian Who Ever Lived and that he’s surrounded by guns.”
“A Native American?” Kinimaka asked.
“Oh yeah, born in 1829; that’s seven hundred years after Genghis Kahn and fourteen hundred after Hannibal. Almost exactly…” He paused.
“Odd,” Kinimaka filled the gap.
“Maybe, maybe,” the geek said. “Somebody once said there are no coincidences. Well, we’ll see. Anyways, I’ve re-routed the plane and you’re now headed for Oklahoma.”
“Do we know who this old horseman might be?” Drake asked.
“I’d say he’s the most famous Native American of all, not the worst, but what do I know?”
Alicia shifted, still half-dozing. “Not a whole goddamn lot.”
“Why, thank you. Well, Goyaale, meaning ‘the one that yawns’, was a famous leader of the Apache tribe. They resisted the US and Mexicans throughout his lifetime, his raids becoming a terrible thorn in America’s side.”
“Many Native Americans did,” Mai said.
“Of course, and rightly so. But this man was revered as a superb leader and strategist, the archetype of raiding and revenge warfare. Does that sound familiar?”
Drake nodded along. “Same as Hannibal and Genghis.”
“You got it, kiddo. He surrendered three times and then broke out three times. They made several movies of his exploits. He was then treated as a prisoner of war and moved first to Fort Bowie along with many others.”
“And he escaped again?” Alicia looked like she’d like to think so.
“No. In his old age, Geronimo became a celebrity.”
“Ah, now I see,” Drake said. “Along with Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, he’s probably the best known.”
“Well, yeah, and did you know those three used to get together? Pow wow around the campfire. Plot this and that? Talk about choosing your favorite celebrity to go get a coffee with — I’d choose those three.”
Alicia nodded. “It’d be an experience,” she agreed. “Of course, assuming Depp and Boreanaz weren’t free.”
“In 1850? Probably not. But that Depp guy? He never seems to age, so who knows? Remember the story about medicine men that could shift their manitous — their spirits — through time? Anyways… Geronimo appeared at the 1904 World’s Fair and several other lower key ones. The poor guy was never allowed to return to the land of his birth and died at Fort Sill, still a prisoner of war, in 1909. He’s buried at the Fort Sill Indian Cemetery and surrounded by the graves of relatives and other Apache prisoners of war.”
“Guns.” Dahl said. “Braves.”
“Yes, and the many guns of Fort Sill itself of course, which today serves as the United States Army Artillery School. It remains the only active fort of the southern plains which played a part in the so-called Indian Wars and has participated extensively in every major conflict since 1869.” The geek paused before adding, “The Order chose this place and this horseman for a reason.”
“Apart from the guns?” Dahl asked.
“Notoriety, too,” came the reply. “Initial raid on the Indian territories were led, from here, by Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill Hickok. The fort included the 10th Cavalry, also known as the Buffalo Soldiers.”
“So, to recap.” Dahl sighed. “Geronimo’s grave is inside Fort Sill. The Order managed to secrete the plans to a devastating weapon inside it at least forty years ago and now half a dozen of the deadliest Special Forces teams on the planet are rushing headlong toward it.”
Into the deep silence the geek said cheerily, “Yeah, man, cool stuff, eh?”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
As the airplane banked into its final leg of the flight to Oklahoma, the team discussed what they knew so far — most of the revelations around the four corners of the earth, the Horsemen and the deadly weapons that the Nazi war criminals had buried inside old military leader’s graves. The plot was vast, complex, and necessarily so — because the Order had wanted it to be viable for a hundred years. And even now, according to the text, the fourth Horseman was the ‘true last judgment’.
In light of the weapons discovered so far, what the hell could that possibly be?
Drake pondered it. First, they had to get to Fort Sill and stop everyone getting their hands on the weapon of Famine. And worry about others heading straight for the fourth Horseman — the Scourge of God. I mean… what kinda title is that?
“Can I ask a question?” he said, as the plane began to descend.
“You already did,” the geek guffawed, causing Hayden, Alicia and Mai to close their eyes, their patience worn.
“How did Geronimo come by his title?”
“Geronimo was a true fighter. Even on his deathbed he confessed his regret at his decision to surrender. His final words were: ‘I should never have surrendered. I should have fought until I was the last man alive.’ He also had nine wives, some simultaneously.”
“But the worst Indian that ever lived?”
“During his military career Geronimo was famous for his daring escapades and innumerable escapes. He would disappear into caves that had no exit, later to be seen outside. He would win consistently, though always outnumbered. There is a place in New Mexico, to this day, known as Geronimo’s Cave. One of the greatest stories involve him leading a small band of thirty eight men, women and children who were terribly hunted by thousands of American and Mexican troops for over a year. So, he became the most famous Native American of all time, and earned himself the title of ‘the worst Indian that ever lived’, among the white settlers of the time. Geronimo was one of the very last warriors to accept the United States’ occupation of their lands.”