“But now your little game is at an end,” Ulrich continued. He took a step forward, moving in for the kill, when another gun popped from somewhere else in the room.
Ulrich froze in his tracks. Looking down at his chest, he noticed blood slowly seeping into his shirt. He spun around quickly to return fire, but his reaction was too late.
Four more shots came from the other weapon, all of them finding the blonde man’s torso. His legs wobbled for a moment, then gave way, sending his now heavy body to the ground.
Sean lowered the weapon and walked over to the man lying on the cold, stone floor. Blood trickled down Ulrich’s face from the corner of his lips. His icy, blue eyes were wide with shock. His lungs gurgled beneath the crimson stained shirt, struggling against the damage the bullets had inflicted.
With a final act of defiance, Ulrich tried to raise his pistol.
Another loud bang from Sean’s gun punched a dark hole through the man’s forehead and the hand holding the gun dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Tommy peaked out from behind one end of the stone box. He saw his friend standing over the body of the dead Ulrich. Sean dropped the pistol onto the ground next to the body.
“Cuttin’ it a little close there weren’t ya?” Tommy joked, staring down at his kidnapper.
“Sorry. I was a little preoccupied,” he jerked his thumb backwards in the direction of the moaning henchman.
“What’d you do to him?” Tommy asked, not sure he wanted to know.
“Let’s just say, he won’t be winning any dance contests…ever.” Sean forced a smile.
“Should we call Allyson back down.” The elevator had gone all the way back up to the top.
“Give it a second, Schultzie.” He slapped his friend on the back. “This is what you have spent your life looking for.”
They both gazed in awe at the unimaginable scene before them. Their heads turned a full circle, taking in the scene.
“It’s amazing. I can’t believe we actually found it. Do you realize we are probably the first people to see this in thousands of years?”
“You’ve earned it buddy.”
Then, Tommy turned to Wyatt with a big smile. “Thanks, Sean, for everything. You’ve always been there for me. I knew you would come.”
“Someone’s got to take care of your dumb ass,” he said with a wide grin.
Chapter 58
Detective Trent Morris stared in utter disbelief at the scene before him. Around two hundred feet of pure, gold, walls wrapped around the entire chamber. The ceiling panels too, were made out of gold. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen in his entire life.
The place was crawling with federal investigators and a CSI unit had arrived shortly after the other squads. A coroner was there, as well, to tag and bag the body of the mysterious Jens Ulrich.
“He’s an international mercenary,” Will said, pointing a finger at the black bag. “Interpol has been looking for this guy for a few years. He’s been implicated in several assassinations and other murders all over the globe. But no one has ever been able to catch up with him.”
“A fistful of aliases and the right amount of money can get you a great deal of anonymity,” Morris added.
Sean nodded, glancing over at the burned guard being wheeled out on a stretcher, still moaning in excruciating pain. His first stop would be the hospital. After that, it would be on to a cell, probably for the rest of his life.
“Docs said your buddy McElroy is going to be okay. He’d lost a lot of blood when the paramedics found him, but it looks like the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”
“Not that it matters now. I’m sure his wife is going to kill him when he gets home.”
“Well, we will keep homicide on alert.” Morris returned the grin.
Sean let his eyes wander through the room. Tommy was busy analyzing the golden tiles of the walls while talking on the phone with the IAA. At least a dozen researchers and archaeologists were already on their way to the site.
Schultz was in his element and whatever fatigue he may have had was replaced by the excitement of discovery. Tommy deserved it, Sean thought to himself.
His eyes switched to another spot. Allyson sat nearby on one of the stone boxes, sipping a bottle of water. She noticed him staring at her and offered a practiced shy smile. It was the kind of grin that could pull a man across a bed of hot coals without him ever noticing.
For a moment, his attention went back to the officers who were still going on about all the things that had happened. “So if you could come by sometime next week, it would really help me with filling out my report,” Morris was finishing his spiel.
“What? Oh, sure. No problem. I will give you a call next week.” Then Sean’s attention went to a man and woman dressed in black in a corner by themselves. The woman was on a cell phone, but whatever she was saying could not be heard. “Who are they?”
Will looked back over his shoulder at the couple. “Those are agents Sewell and Yates. They’re with the Feds. Apparently they have been after Ulrich for a while too. I don’t trust them. They’re not very sociable. Haven’t said a whole lot to us since they got here.”
“Interesting.”
Trent gave his young partner a quick nod. “Let’s get out of here, Will.” Then he turned back to Sean as they started to walk away. “Next week, okay?”
“You got it.”
The detectives got on the giant platform of the lift along with the medics. Will removed the disc from the pedestal and the ancient elevator started its slow ascent.
Sean’s eyes played back over to where Allyson was sitting. She was listening to Tommy, who had apparently finished his phone conversations. He was going on about the different languages that were represented, four in all, one on each wall. She was clearly only half-interested.
Making his way over to them, he stood over his friend and the young journalist/agent. “Sorry to interrupt your history lesson, Schultzie but Ms. Webster scheduled an interview with me, and I really have to keep that appointment.” He lifted his right eyebrow at his friend.
Tommy looked at Sean and then at her and started laughing. “My bad. I don’t want to keep the good readers of the Sentinel waiting.”
With that, he stood up and headed back over to a couple of people who were tagging some of the panels with post-it notes and started directing the cataloging effort.
“Well, Ms. Webster, how about that interview?” His eyes smiled more than his mouth.
“You do remember I’m not really a journalist, right?”
“We can pretend.”
Chapter 59
The old man hobbled over to his desk hurriedly to answer the phone. It was ringing furiously, interrupting his nightly dose of brandy by the fireplace in the study.
He leaned his cane against the bulky desk and reached over to pick up the device. No answer to the caller was given. The white haired man just waited.
“It is done,” the young voice came through the receiver.
“Both of them are dead?”
“Ulrich is. The Russian he hired was still alive when I got there, though, he was badly burned. Wyatt shot him in the knee, as well.
“You said, was alive.”
“Correct. He will not be a problem anymore.”
“Excellent work. I knew I could count on you. Ulrich had become so sloppy.”
“He served our purpose in the end.”
“Indeed.” The old man stood, contemplating his next question. “Did you find the next clue?”
“Yes, sir. The girl had it, but I instructed her that it would be needed as evidence for the crime scene.”