The Adam Enigma (16 page)

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Authors: Mark; Ronald C.; Reeder Meyer

BOOK: The Adam Enigma
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“His wealthy friend from Des Moines, Malcolm Grossinger, came around a few times, and of course Father Michael often stopped by and they chatted. One time I overheard Adam telling the Father that he had surrendered to the realization he had become the essence of the healer.” Carlotta blushed. “Mind you, I normally respected Adam's privacy when Father Michael visited him. But this one time I listened in. He told him he had become a conduit to the other world. I think he said that he when he first woke up from his coma, he spent most of his time in the other world. When Father Michael asked him what it looked like, Adam said there was an infinite world of forces that hold and guide us just like a loving mother holds and guides her child. I remember his words after that exactly. ‘I have become just as Jesus said, a child, trusting these forces.' When Father Michael asked him what was happening now, Adam replied, ‘I'm being absorbed by these forces.'”

“Did that mean anything to you?”

“Over the last year, at times, I swear Adam had become transparent, like I could look right through him. I told myself I should get my eyes checked.”

As the women were departing Myriam asked, “Has Father Michael been around?”

“Yes, whenever he can. He travels a lot you know.”

Myriam nodded her head thoughtfully. “Over the past three years he's traveled almost constantly.”

March 30, 2016
Taos, New Mexico

B
eecher tried calling Myriam back but she wouldn't pick up. After the fourth try he didn't bother to leave a message. He cursed and tossed the phone onto the table. It lay there staring at him like an accusing finger. His anger cooled and with it came remorse.
She's right to be angry. I haven't been much of a doting lover lately. Maybe I should have told her at least about the mysterious meeting tonight
. He shook his head and banged his fists together.
No! You're not thinking clearly. The less she knows the less danger she's in. You have to keep her safe from all of this
.

Beecher was sure that he had lost favor with the Reverend and that the charismatic preacher no longer trusted him. His instructions had mentioned no names, only to meet a contact here tonight. Billy Paul was becoming more and more erratic and he couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of payback for failing to get rid of Adam the first time. Beecher pressed his hand against the Glock and shifted his gaze around the room and into the parking lot.

The phone buzzed and he gave a little start. A text message appeared. It was from the Reverend Billy Paul.
Your contact has arrived
.

Beecher looked up as the door to the coffeehouse opened. A man dressed in an impeccably tailored Savile Row suit entered. Graying hair around the temples put him in his forties. His back was ramrod straight, his hands long fingered. His pale blue eyes quartered the room, questing. Beecher pegged him instantly as ex-military. When the eyes fell on him, the man smiled. He came over, his stride easy,
confident. He stopped and bowed slightly. “Mr. Beecher,” he said quietly in a clipped accent Beecher couldn't place.

Beecher rose and they shook hands. The man's grip was firm. He was an inch taller than Beecher and not nearly so broad. Yet there was something in the man's stance, the way he stood cat-like, that told Beecher here was a man who would not hesitate to kill.

“Sit please, Mr.—”

“Haas . . . Pieter Haas. As quaint as your American custom of informality is, I think we would be more comfortable talking at my hotel. The El Monte Segrado. I've taken the liberty of booking a premier suite for you.”

“I have a hotel already.”

“Yes, but the Reverend suggested we upgrade you.” He smiled, his teeth very even and very white. “I'm sure you'll find the accommodations to your liking.”

The invitation was direct, couched in a way that was not threatening so Beecher could not refuse. In Vietnam he'd heard of men like this, though he had never met any. They were called “fixers”—men who were genteel and ultra-polite, and who could always be counted on to get the
difficult
jobs done with a minimum of fireworks.

The man motioned Beecher to precede him. The hairs stuck up on the back of his neck.
I'm getting too old for this kind of shit.

Outside a black Cadillac Escalade was parked by the entrance, the engine running.

“I have my rental,” said Beecher.

“Where are you staying?”

“The Edelweiss Chalet.”

Haas nodded at the Escalade. A young man got out instantly. He was stocky, built like a linebacker. His blond hair was crew cut. He wore a dark turtleneck over dark pants. His shoes made no sound on the asphalt. “Make sure Mr. Beecher's car gets to the Edelweiss chalet.”

The young man held out his hand and Beecher knew this wasn't a request. He dropped the keys into his palm. At that moment another man slid out of the vehicle and held open a back door for the two men. He hesitated and Haas said quietly, “The Reverend was very clear
these are blessed steps we are taking and he wants everything handled carefully. He'll explain once we reach the hotel.”

Beecher looked behind. His car was already leaving the parking lot. There was no escape and even the gun wedged into his jeans at the small of his back felt so remote as to be useless.
I feel like an extra in a Godfather movie. Well I won't go whining
. He straightened his shoulders and his hand slid part way around his waist. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Haas. I have no idea who you are or your relationship with the Reverend Billy Paul and the Brothers of the Lord.”

Haas tilted his head to the side and his eyes narrowed.

Beecher felt sweat trickle between his shoulder blades in spite of the chilly night air, but he didn't flinch. He returned the stare evenly.

Haas smiled and bowed slightly. “My apologies, Mr. Beecher. I assumed the Reverend had briefed you sufficiently. This must seem very cloak and dagger to you. I am the CEO of the DeVere Mining Group. Reverend Billy Paul and I share a passion for resolving the issue of Adam Gwillt.”

Beecher thought back to a documentary he had seen on the cold-bloodedness of diamond cartels in Africa.
Of course. Who better to hunt down Adam. The DeVere Mining Group would have killers on their payroll! They are notorious for ruthlessly controlling the diamond market
. “Thank you,” he said and entered the SUV.

Inside the nine-passenger Escalade were three more men dressed like the young man driving Beecher's car. They were all ex-military or para-military. The driver wore a windbreaker over his dark clothes. It had the image of a springbok, the antelope-gazelle of South Africa, on the back.

Beecher settled back into the soft leather seats and waited. He kept his hand away from the Glock.

The Premier Suite was exquisitely furnished in Hopi and Navajo artifacts. Haas motioned to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

Beecher shook his head. The South African frowned. “Pardon me. I forgot the Reverend told me you no longer drink. How about coffee or tea?”

“I'll have what you're drinking.”

“Irish breakfast tea.” Haas smiled. “Afraid I'm still on Johannesburg time.”

“Works for me.” Beecher settled onto a large sofa that dominated one end of the room.

Haas called room service. Then, “The bathroom is through there.” He pointed to a hallway on the left at the far end of the room. There was a knock on the door, and it opened instantly. A middle-aged woman walked into the room. She nodded to Haas. “Everything is ready. The video feed will come on automatically in here.”

“Hiram, this is Greta Van Horn, our invaluable communications expert. In constant contact with South Africa.” She greeted Beecher with a stern look and then broke into slight smile. “Everything's under control.” She exited the room.

“What are we waiting for?” Beecher was becoming more nervous by the moment as a cloud of entrapment encased his emotions.

Haas checked his watch. “The Reverend said he would call at precisely nine pm.”

That's three minutes from now
, Beecher told himself. “Good.”

“I'm glad you agree.” The South African snapped his fingers and the three ex-military men left the suite. “We won't be disturbed.”

At precisely 9pm, the suite's big-screen TV came to life. The Reverend Billy Paul appeared. Beecher thought he looked gaunt and anxious. He spoke with a clipped urgency. “Everything is working as planned. Ramsey has led us to Adam. Within twenty-four hours with your help Brother Pieter and his associates are going to put an end to this Adam Gwillt abomination. I don't have to remind you that we're close, very close to saving Christianity in the modern era, Brother Hiram.” The televangelist paused, his breathing heavy as if the speech itself were a great weight. Then, “Brother Pieter, have you told Brother Hiram what's happened in the past few days?”

“No, I didn't think I should.”

“Tell him now if you would.”

Haas placed his teacup on a mesquite end table and settled into a large chair. “Pete Miami is this genius geographer that's been working in
northern New Mexico for the DeVere company for the past five years. He's been trying to pinpoint the location of a diamond deposit that is responsible for all the diamonds that have shown up in this area over the years. He's made some remarkable technological breakthroughs that allow him to detect all sorts of geophysical information no one knew even existed.

“When the Reverend Paul sent us the video files you so beautifully captured, we concluded that the phenomena connected with Adam represented a new power and we already knew there was something unusual in Pete Miami's raw GIS data covering the shrine. Only it was too risky to go directly to Dr. Miami and have him refine it. His skills and knowledge are way beyond anything we have in South Africa. Like many genius scientists he saw patterns no one else could. Unfortunately he's a loose cannon. Ultimately, we wanted Miami to come up with something that would help us find Adam without his knowing and the best way to do that was to arrange for the Friends of the Shrine to hire Jonathan Ramsey. Ramsey and Miami were best friends during their postdoc work together at the University of Oregon. We made it nearly impossible for Ramsey not to ask Pete to process all the GIS information he collected on the shrine's location. A few days ago our belief was vindicated. Pete found an anomalous field structure connected with the shrine. A kind of Adam Gwillt signature that disappeared almost entirely the day after Adam disappeared.”

Beecher was amazed at the scale and cleverness of Reverend Billy Paul's organization. “How do you know all this?”

Haas looked at the Reverend and he nodded approval. “You don't have to know the details, but everything Pete Miami does using our computer is transparent to us. We may not have the ability to understand it, but we see all of what he sees. Yesterday Miami refined some of his computational magic on an energy anomaly. Immediately our techies back in South Africa started using satellite sensors to look for the same anomaly outside of the shrine.”

The Reverend Paul jumped in. “We've found him. Here's the strange and beautiful part. It's real close to where Miami believes the diamond pipe is located.”

“That's really bizarre—that the timing and the diamond discovery and the Adam signature should be so close together. Maybe it's all a set up. Doesn't that bother any of you?” Beecher asked.

The Reverend shook his head. “No, it's the Lord's signal we are doing the right thing. Tomorrow Miami will lead us to both. It'll be our triumph.”

Haas added, “The Gwillt signature is centered on what we think is an old Anasazi cliff dwelling. We should be able to see it from the kimberlite site that Miami has located.”

They're going to kill Adam
, Beecher thought. “Why do you need me?”

“My dear brother Hiram, none of us have actually seen Adam Gwillt. There are few photographs of him and the ones we own have become mysteriously blurred. We need you to tell us if it's him. Something is going on right now. It is the work of the devil. It needs to be stopped!”

My God, this sounds like me just a few months ago
. Beecher was no longer sure this was doing the Lord's work.

The screen went blank.

Haas turned to Beecher. “Are we good?”

Beecher hid his loathing for Paul's sanctimonious bullshit. There was no arguing and no escaping. “Of course.”

“All right then, in the morning.” Haas left the room.

Beecher was afraid to turn on his transmitter while in the room. Stepping out on the balcony he decided to take the risk. The pen hummed slightly in his hand. Moments later he heard Conklin's voice soft over the micro speaker. “Is everything okay?” Beecher began telling Conklin that they were going to look in the morning for Adam under the guise of finding a diamond deposit.

Conklin responded, “Somebody brought your vehicle here to the chalet. I was worried.”

Beecher said, “I'll start transmitting a tracking signal when I'm comfortable. Use the chalet van to follow at a safe distance.” He clicked the device to standby mode and stepped back in the room, waiting for somebody to rush in. But all was good. At least he had one small advantage in the face of what was going to happen in the morning.
Conklin was a bit of an enigma, but Beecher was sure he had made the correct decision to tell the man everything.
Odd how these things work out
.

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