The Secret of the Stones (12 page)

Sean
motioned for her to be quiet with his finger while the two in the other room
disappeared from view, apparently looking through some of the things on the
desk.
 
A few minutes passed.
 
Suddenly, the detective appeared in the
doorway again.
 
Sean quickly ducked
back behind the bathroom doorway, unsure if the he’d been seen.
 

He
heard the man comment on the nicely decorated bedroom, obviously looking
inside. Apparently, Sean’s and Allyson’s presence was unknown because the cop was
still talking with Mrs. Borringer about her late husband’s work.
 
The voices continued to move further
away and down the stairs.
 

Leaving
their bathroom hiding place, the two fugitives went to the doorway leading into
the hall.
 
Downstairs, Mrs. Borringer
politely escorted Morris to the door.
 
He thanked her for her courtesy and invited her to call if she could
think of anything he might need to know.
 

Sean
and Allyson heard the front door close and looked at each other, breathing a
sigh of relief.
 
They’d caught a
huge break not getting caught.
 

“We’d
better get going,” he stated.

“No
argument here,” she agreed as they stood and exited the bedroom.

Chapter
18

Cartersville,
Georgia

The
gray sedan sped along the interstate heading toward the rural town of
Cartersville.
 
Every few minutes or
so, Sean would glance in the rear view mirrors to make certain no one was
following them.
 
A couple of times,
he thought he had seen a car changing lanes with him, but then the vehicle
turned off of an exit a few minutes later.
 
He hadn’t survived this long by being careless, and the
people they were up against had to be considered extremely dangerous.
 

Even
though Sean suspected the worst, something told him that his friend was ok for
now.
 

Allyson
interrupted his thoughts as if she could see inside his head, “I’m sure Tommy
is still alive.”
 
A sincere smile
accompanied the hopeful words.

He
appreciated the sentiment.
 
And
most of him believed his friend was indeed alive.
 
Still…
 
“Logic
would think that he is alright.
 
If
whoever kidnapped him wanted him dead they would have already done it, like
with Frank.”
 
Sean shook off the
thought, “No, they need him for something.”

“But
what is it?”

“The
only thing I can figure is whoever took Tommy can’t decipher the clues.
 
I guess they think that he can.
 
He knows more about the Golden Chambers
than anyone else in the world.
 
If
anyone needed someone to help unravel the mystery, Tommy would be the go-to
guy.”

He
clicked his left blinker and swerved around a mini-van with a soccer-ball
sticker on the back.
 
There was no
hiding his cynical smile.
 
She,
apparently, didn’t notice.

“I
don’t understand,” she began again.
 
“If these Golden Chambers do exist, why hasn’t anyone ever found
them?
 
It’s got to be hard to hide
four giant, golden rooms for so many centuries.”

“Not
really.
 
I mean, think about it,
every single day there is a new historical discovery somewhere in the
world.
 
Entire cities that were
once thriving metropolitan areas of the ancient world are being uncovered as we
speak.
 
Whole cultures that
disappeared suddenly are found under the very ground people walk across
everyday.”

“I
guess.”
 
She was half convinced, a
smirk on her face.

He
gave her an equally teasing look.
 
“I’m just saying, there is a world of stuff out there that hasn’t been
found.
 
That’s why the IAA exists.”

“So,
let me get this straight, you guys look all over the world for random
historical artifacts that no one else knows are there?
 
That pretty much right?”

“Yep.”

“But
your organization does other stuff, too, doesn’t it?”

Sean
looked at her for a moment, at least glad that he didn’t have to explain the
whole story to her.
 
“Yeah,” he
said as he turned the Maxima off the interstate and onto the exit.
 
“We do a lot of charitable work, but
one of our main functions is in the area of education.”
 
The car turned right off the ramp and
onto a two-lane road heading into the foothills of northwestern Georgia.

“Do
you go into schools and talk about ancient treasures and all that?”

A
small chuckle escaped his mouth.
 
“Sometimes.
 
The kids
certainly like to hear about those kinds of things.
 
When you go into a school and tell young people about some
of the things that we have discovered, they get excited about history.
 
That’s how we hook ‘em.”
 
Sean smiled at his final remark.

“Everyone
gets excited about treasure,” she responded.

“Of
course.
 
But the more important
part of what we do in relation to education has to do with the establishment of
the Georgia Historical Center.”

“It
was quite an impressive accomplishment just to get the real estate for that in
the middle of downtown Atlanta.”
 
Now the reporter inside of her was coming out a little.

“Well,
we had a few very generous contributors.”

“Like
Tommy Schultz?”

He
gave her a curious glance, but said nothing.

“Oh,
come on.
 
Everyone knows that Tommy
inherited a ton of money when his family died, and shortly after, you guys
started up the IAA and purchased the land near Centennial Olympic Park.
 
That stuff is no secret.”

“We
had some generous donations from several contributors.
 
That’s all I am going to say about
it.
 
Of course, we did receive some
large grants for the project, as well.”

“Well,
I think it’s great that you have put such a strong emphasis on the unknown
history of the world, especially the state of Georgia”

“It
has been a really cool venture.
 
Kids all over the state have learned about the history that surrounds
them.
 
Tommy has been looking for
the Chambers of Akhanan for a long time.
 
A find of that magnitude would put the whole region on the historical
map.
 
Up until recently, historians
regarded the Native American history in this country as less important than
European or Asian history.
 
If we
can find a connection to the Chambers of Akhanan here in the southeast, all of
that would change.
 
The history of
the world itself would change.”
 
The passion with which he spoke was mesmerizing.
 

Allyson
admired the way that he talked.
 
Maybe, if her history professors in college had been more like Sean
Wyatt, she might have paid a little more attention in class or at least not
fallen asleep.
 
Sometimes, she
wished that she was in a line of work that she liked better.
 
Journalism certainly had some positives
about it, but there were times that she loathed her job.
 
Long hours stuck in a cubicle could
drive even the most avid writer to madness.
 

Realizing
her eyes had been lingering for a few moments, she averted them to the dark
passing countryside.
 
If Sean
noticed her look, he didn’t say anything.
 
Silence was blurred only by the hum of the car engine.
 
Up beyond the road ahead, just over the
distant Blue Ridge Mountains, the moon peeked out from behind the dark
silhouettes.
 

“What
a beautiful view,” she broke the minutes of quietude.

Smiling,
he nodded, “I love this part of the country.
 
Been to a lot of places all over the world but the Southeast
just has something special about it.”

“Are
you so passionate about everything in your life, Sean Wyatt?”
 
She laughed.
 

He
thought for a moment, semi-pondering the question then replied, “I have no
opinion concerning cats.”

A
full laugh erupted from her chest.
 
“What?!
 
Cats?
 
What in the world are you talking
about?”

“Well,
I’m just saying, I can take or leave cats.
 
I could have one or not.
 
Doesn’t matter to me.”
 
He cast a wry little smile at her.
 
“You asked.”

She
continued laughing as the car whirred down the country road.

Chapter
19

Georgia
Mountains

Tommy
sat at a table situated in the corner of a cavernous kitchen.
 
The ropes that had previously bound him
had been replaced by two security personnel who were almost as large as the
room.
 
He’d been sitting there for
almost two hours, waiting.
 
For
what, he wasn’t sure.
 
Ulrich had
left quickly, determined to bring back what Tommy had said he needed from his
house.
 

When
he had received the correspondence from Dr. Borringer, there had been no
explanation as to what the coded sentences meant.
 
It was simply a translation of the ancient languages that
had been combined to mislead and confuse those who would try to decipher
it.
 

A
nervous chill went up Tommy’s spine as he considered the consequences.
 
Wondered what his captors would do if
he couldn’t figure out the riddle from the stone?
 
He figured they would surely dispose of him just as easily
as they had done with Frank.
 
Killing, it seemed, was not a moral dilemma for them.

He
thought about his friend, Sean, and wondered where he might be at that
moment.
 
Internally, he shook the
thoughts of uncertainty and fear out of his mind.
 
His demeanor had to stay cool.
 

“You
guys play football when you were in high school?”
 
He tried to crack their stone exterior.
 
They simply stared at him, cold and
direct.
 
“No?”
 
Tommy continued, “Well, you should
have.
 
Couple of big rascals like
yourselves, I know a lot of coaches that would have loved to had you guys
playin’ O-line or D-line.”

Still
no response.
 

After
a few moments of awkward silence and thought, Tommy chirped up again, “You guys
even speak English?”
 
They still
didn’t respond.
 
“Well, could one
of you at least grab me a glass of water?
 
I am freakin’ thirsty.”

Finally,
something he said got a reaction.
 
One of the large men turned his head slightly to the shorter one on his
left and gave a quick nod in the direction of the sink.
 
The neck-less behemoth resumed his
stare at the prisoner while the other guy stalked over to the kitchen sink,
grabbing a glass out of one of the overhead cabinets.
 
After filling the glass, he clomped back to the table and
set the cup in front of Tommy.
 

“Thanks.
 
Much obliged,” he truly was grateful
and tried to act as natural as possible.
 
The shorter giant had resumed his spot where he’d been standing
previously.
 

Tommy
took a big swallow of the water and set the glass back on the table.
 
“So, you boys from around here?”

Apparently,
he’d gotten all the interaction he was going to receive from the two guards.

“Yeah,”
he went on, as if they were listening, “I grew up just outside of Atlanta.
 
Lived in these parts my whole
life.
 
Love it.
 
Not a place on earth I would rather
be.”
 
His friendly demeanor seemed
to do nothing to crack the frozen exterior of the two suits.
 
“Some people complain about the
humidity but I don’t mind it.
 
I
always tell ‘em at least it’s a wet heat…”

Silence.

“So…you
guys listen to music?
 
Wait, let me
guess.
 
Techno?
 
‘Cause you look like you would be into
that.
 
Me?
 
I pretty much like it all.
 
Rock, bluegrass, even some of that
Euro-electronic stuff.”
 

Tommy
looked from one guard to the other, waiting.
 
Then, finally said, “You boys heard of Jimmy Buffet?”

This
time, the non-response was accompanied by the double doors at the end of the
kitchen bursting open.
 
Ulrich had
returned.
 
He carried a letter in
his hand.
 
“I believe this is what
you needed, Herr Schultz.”
 
The
statement was calculated, but not sinister.
 

Tommy’s
reply was sarcastically defiant.
 
“Oh, good.
 
You found
it.
 
I wasn’t sure if it would
still be where I left it, pesky police searching the premises and such after
the kidnapping.”

“The
police were quite accommodating.”
 
The evil smile from earlier returned to the pale face.

Tommy
wasn’t sure what would happen when Ulrich went to recover the document.
 
Part of him had hoped the police would
detain the blonde foreigner.
 
Of
course, if that happened, his own chances of survival might actually go
down.
 

These
two brutes in the black secret service outfits probably had a set amount of
time to wait for their boss to return, at which point, they more than likely
had execution orders.
 
It was
certainly a mixture of relief and disappointment as Ulrich stepped over to the
table and laid the envelope upon it.

“Are
you surprised that I returned?”
 
His voice was sarcastic.

“No,”
Tommy’s reply was quick.
 
“I was
just wondering what was taking you so long.”
 
He motioned to the two henchmen, “We were just talking about
Jimmy Buffet when you came barging through the door.
 

Ulrich
stood up straight and cast a quick glance at his employees who were staring
straight ahead.
 
The shorter one
had a somewhat dumbfounded look on his face.

“The
time for your little wisecracks and games is over, Mr. Schultz.”
 
Ulrich leaned in close to Tommy’s ear
then added.
 
“You have twenty-four
hours to figure out this riddle.
 
If
you have not come up with the answer by then, I will remove one of your thumbs
and will continue removing appendages once every two hours until all you have
left is a torso with a head on it.”

That
old feeling of fear crept into Tommy.
 
“How am I supposed to do that?
 
People have been trying to figure this out for centuries and you want me
to do it in a day?
 
I haven’t even
slept.”
 

“That
is not my problem.
 
I have given
you what you need.
 
Just get it
done.”
 
He turned and said
something in another language to the guards.
 
Tommy couldn’t make out what it was.
 
Then Ulrich strode back through the
double doors from whence he’d come a few moments earlier, dramatically
extending his arms as he pushed them both open at the same time.

Under
his breath Tommy whispered, “So, I’ll just go ahead and take care of this,
then.”
 
His panic was masked by his
characteristic dry cynicism.
 
“Either of you guys experts in 3,000 year old dead languages?”

They
looked at each other, then both shook their heads simultaneously.

“Didn’t
think so.”