TEMPLARS QUEST: LUCEM SANCTAM (THE TEMPLARS QUEST CHRONICLES: A Historical Mystery Book 3) (7 page)

It was getting late so Maggie and I had one more drink and we all hit the hay. Tomorrow was going to be a big day because we would arrive at the Grand Canyon before sunset. We’d have to be on our toes watching for the nomads who wanted to steal the treasure of God.

We obtained five ATVs, compliments of the Police Chief, hooked the trailers up to our trucks, and took off to the canyon. Maggie and Adam were excited to see the canyon because I had told them so much about it. It’s a two hour drive from Flagstaff, reaching an altitude of about 7,500 feet.    

The Grand Canyon was carved by the Colorado River, so they say. Most people know it is located in the state of Arizona. It is managed by National Park Services, the Hualapai Tribe, the Havasupai people, and the Navajo Nation
. Each have their own areas to manage and maintain.

The Grand Canyon is 277 miles long, up to 18 miles wide, and attains a depth of over a mile deep. The processes that formed the Grand Canyon are still debated by geologists. Most believe the Colorado River started carving out the canyon five million years ago.

For thousands of years, the area has been inhabited by Native Americans. They can be traced as far back as 1,200 BC, as proven by the artifacts found in the canyon. There are an estimated 2,000 unexplored caves. The natives considered the Grand Canyon a holy site. History books say the first known European to visit the Grand Canyon was Garcia Lopez de Cardenas, in 1540. He was a conquistador from Spain. We now know he wasn’t the first, since the Knights Templar visited the canyon in 1350.

I’ve been to many places in my life. In my younger days I visited the Great Wall, the Pyramids, Niagara Falls, the Black Hills, and Yellowstone Stone, to name a few. Only one place made me say, ‘Holy shit!’ The Grand Canyon is the most spectacular sight in the whole world. It is a holy place where you are humbled by power of God and nature.

Entering the park, I noted a sign that read: CLOSED. Of course, the park was closed since the collapse of the Federal Government because there was no money to support the National Park system. The gates, which should be shut to keep people out, were busted open. We drove past the gates and observed a few cars running around on the main park road. 

We arrived at the South Rim Visitor Center. There were a few cars in the visitors’ parking lot. Everyone, including the Warriors, ran to see the spectacular sight. I walked behind them, but I could hear what they said. They uttered the same words that I did when I was twelve years old.

The sight of the canyon brought back memories. In the old days, very few people went to the Grand Canyon, mainly because it was a transportation issue. You had to have a good car or truck. You had to be an adventurer. My Dad didn’t have the best car but he took care of it and knew how to fix it. It was a 1954 Chevy with a six cylinder motor. Dad wasn’t afraid of anything, especially going on a three-week camping trip to the middle of nowhere. He knew how to do everything.

I recall we camped out in a Sear’s tent and cooked over the open fire. If my memory serves me right, only four other campers were at the canyon at that time. Everyone had tents, because RVs didn’t exist. You didn’t need a reservation or permit to camp.

When we went camping, everyone had a job to do. Dad gave us boys the privilege of putting up the tent and digging a drainage ditch around it in case of rain, which we did with great pride. Then we had to blow up the air mattresses and lay out the sleeping bags inside the tent. My brothers and I collected firewood from the dead pine trees. Since I was the oldest, I got to start the fire. I thought that was the most important job. Dad taught me how to start a fire and keep it burning. Those were some of the best days of my life. Thanks, Dad.

Maggie shouted, “Jack, this is incredible! It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

About twenty other people were meandering about the rim, looking at the sights. When they saw us dressed in our SWAT gear, loaded down with weapons, they quickly beat a path back to their cars.

Adam said, “The canyon is really massive.”

I asked, “Baldwin, what do you think?”

He replied, “I’ve seen a lot of things, all over the world, but this takes the cake. It’s so large I wonder where to start looking for the treasure.”

“Ok, I got some ideas. Let’s mount up and head to the Bright Angel Lodge. We’ll make that our HQ and operate out of there, because it’s close to the trail we’re going to use.”

Needless to say, the lodge was officially closed, so we opened it. The stores and concession stands had been looted and ransacked. The lodge rooms were cabin-like structures, and we took twelve of them, making ourselves at home. We had to clean the rooms up because they hadn’t been used in a while. Baldwin posted security, covering the cabins and vehicles. He had his crew unload the ATVs and bring them to the cabins.

I called a meeting with Baldwin, Pete, Maggie, and Adam to discuss our plan. Adam printed out eight copies of a satellite map which showed the canyon and trails.

I said, “George, what I suggest is have your men do a recon on Hermit Road, Rim Trail, and Desert View Road before it gets dark. You and I will take a look at Bright Angel Trail to check for ATV tracks.”

Pete asked, “Boss, what do you think?”

“Take two ATVs to cover each trail and use two men on each patrol to recon those roads. Have them report in if they see any nomads,” Baldwin ordered.

“Roger that, Boss.” Pete left to hand out the maps and give his men Baldwin’s orders.

After grabbing some binoculars, Baldwin and I walked outside, heading towards the Bright Angel Trailhead. Walking up to the canyon rim, we stood there observing the sight. He said, “Look at that tower shaped like a pyramid,” as he pointed in a slight easterly direction.

“That, my friend is Isis Temple. The treasure could be hidden in a cave on Isis.” We proceeded to look at the temple through the binoculars.

“That thing is gigantic.”

“Yeah, it’s big alright.”

Proceeding down the trail we ran into a few people hiking up Bright Angel, so I stopped them and asked, “Are you coming from the bottom of the canyon?”

One replied, “Yes, why?”

“Did you see anyone else, a group of men on ATVs?”

“No. We didn’t see anyone else. Why, is there a problem?”  

I advised them to leave the park because we had reports that terrorists were here. They quickly walked away. I was sure they would also tell others about the terrorists. The last thing we needed was for some innocent people to become involved in this mess.

“George, radio your men and advise them to tell everyone they see that terrorists are here. Tell them to leave the park immediately to be safe.” George thought that was a good idea, and he did so.

Reaching the trailhead I said, “One thing that bothers me is the area here on the rim was a lot different back in 1350. We might have trouble finding a Hooked X, here.”

“Yeah, good point. We’ll just have to keep our eyes peeled.”

Proceeding down the trail, it starts off gradually and then becomes steeper before you pass through the first tunnel. We saw the ATV tracks in the soft dirt. The nomads had definitely gone down Bright Angel Trail.

We both looked down the trail using the spy glasses but didn’t see a soul, except for a few people who were hiking down into the abyss. Turning around, we started back up.

Bright Angel Trail is supposed to be an easy one compared to the others. We only went down about half a mile on the eight-mile long trail. The incline is pretty steep, and at an altitude of almost 8,000 feet, it takes the wind right out of you. My smoking didn’t help matters any, or the fact that I had on 30 pounds of gear.

I recall hiking this trail with my son and daughter years ago. Even at a much younger age, and in better shape than now, it kicked the shit out of me. It took me two days to recover from sore muscles and dehydration. I was glad we had the ATVs.

Hiking back up, reaching the top of the trail, I said, “George, I gotta rest a minute.” We sat down on a bench and I took a drink of water.

George commented, “That’s a tough little hike. It reminds me of the mountains in Afghanistan. Actually, the whole terrain does with its desert-like appearance.”

“Let’s scan around in the canyon and see if we can spot these guys.”

George said, “I doubt we’ll see anyone, but let’s give it a try.”

I was looking at the base of Isis Temple while we strolled past the cabins, stopping in front of the looted stores. I commented, “It’s a shame they looted and ransacked this place. It used to be a nice place for people to eat and relax, while viewing the canyon.”

As we were scanning the canyon, five men came around the building, laughing and shouting to each other. When they saw us, about fifty feet away, they suddenly shut up. I saw that they were well armed with AK47s. I noticed they had black bandanas wrapped around their foreheads, similar to those worn by the nomads.

They froze, glaring at us. Baldwin and I turned to face them. I said, “Hi guys. Do you know that the park is closed?”

One of them spoke up, “No, we didn’t. Actually we’re waiting for our friends to come back out of the canyon. We can’t leave without them.”

“When did they go down?”

“They went down other day. Are you guys cops or something?”

“Yeah, kind of,” I said.

The biggest of the bunch said, “Well, let’s see your badges.”

Baldwin said, “We’re with the Army, so we don’t have any badges.”

“The Army? What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on everything and asking people to leave because the park is closed.”

“You don’t have any jurisdiction here?”

Baldwin replied, “Oh yes we do, my friend. This is government property and we’re assigned here.”

Our M4’s were hanging on three point slings in front of us. I moved my hand to the pistol grip and flipped off the safety with my thumb. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George do the same.

The five men also saw us put our hands on the pistol grips. We didn’t point our guns at them, but I was getting ready to. George and I knew who these men were.

I told them, “Put your weapons on the ground and don’t try anything stupid.”

“Why do you want us to do that,” the big dope asked.

“Because we said so,” Baldwin replied. “Put the weapons down, now!”

The same jerk said, “There’s five of us and two of you. You put your guns down.”

“Look, you guys don’t wanna fuck with us, you don’t stand a chance. Put your weapons down now!” 

It was a tense situation as we stared each other down. Then they made a dumb move. Three of them started to raise their AK’s. My sixth sense told me they were going to fire.

Before they could level their guns and fire, Baldwin and I got the drop on them, because we were expecting them to do that. Swiftly, we swung our M4s around, aiming from the hip, and let loose with short bursts. Three dorks immediately fell to the ground. The other two men, on the left, dropped their AK’s like hot potatoes, raising their hands, surrendering to us. The gun fight, if you can call it one, was over in five seconds.

Baldwin ordered, “Get down flat on your stomachs, with hands over your head.” They complied instantly and he zip-cuffed each one, with hands behind their backs, while I stood guard. George stood them up, one at a time, and frisked them. No other weapons were found, but one had a radio.

I said, “It looks like we have a couple of prisoners to interrogate.”

By this time, a few curious people wandered over to check what was going on. Baldwin told them, in a commanding voice, “There’s nothing to see here. Everyone should leave the park because it’s not safe.” With that comment, everyone beat a path away from us. Hopefully they left the park.

We were standing in front of a concessions store. George dragged the three bodies inside, out of sight, while I watched the two dirtbags.

We took them inside and told them to sit down at the counter. I sat down and lit up a smoke. I offered one to them, but they declined. No one said a word for about five minutes. The nomads closely watched us. I could tell they were afraid and would tell us everything we wanted to know.

These guys were young and I placed them to be twenty something. They were greenhorns and had probably never been in a gun battle, let alone killed anyone.

George asked, “Do you have any other buddies here?”

The young man with blond hair and child-like face replied, “Yeah. They went into the canyon.”

“How many are in the canyon?”

“Ten went down on ATVs.”

“Are any more up here with you?”

“No, it was just us five. They left us here to guard the trucks.”

The numbers added up because we knew there were fifteen of them. I asked, “Where did they go in the canyon?”

The dark-haired ugly one spoke. “We don’t know exactly. They went looking for a treasure or something like that.”

“They don’t know shit so let’s just terminate them now,” George said.

The blond punk said, “We don’t know anything, so you don’t need to kill us.”

The other one said, “Please don’t kill us! We’ll leave and won’t come back.”

I said, “I’m sorry, boys, but we can’t take that chance,” as I walked behind them and drew out my Glock.