Plague of Coins (The Judas Chronicles #1) (15 page)

“No time to talk about any of this right now.” I grabbed the sharpest knife I saw from the table and moved over to him and Amy. “Are you both well enough to travel?”

Not that they had a choice, but the ‘options’ for how to get the hell out of this place relied to a large degree upon their mobility.

“I can make it...just give me a moment to stretch,” said Amy, massaging her arms painfully after I sliced through her bonds. Alistair’s response was nearly the same, and he nodded that he was ready to go.

Ever the realist on what it would take to get out of there intact, I made sure that neither one needed to take care of ‘nature’s call’
immediately. All of us good to go for the moment, I signaled for them to remain silent and quietly follow me to the window farthest from the door. As a precaution, when ready to pull open the heavy draperies, I had Alistair turn off the overhead light.

I carefully pulled open the heavy curtains, expecting to at least see a guard or two. But our captor’s arrogance had overlooked the remote possibility of our escape. This was especially surprising as the sun had long since disappeared and the mountains’ full darkness limited visibility.

“They’ll be onto us in a moment, so there’s absolutely no time to waste! Hold your questions until we get far enough away from here, and I’ll do the same,” I said. They both nodded their consent. “Let’s go!”

As I gently pulled on the window’s latch, hurried footsteps approached the front door. It sounded as if a roundup had gathered on the porch. I silently bemoaned the fact it took less than thirty seconds for the Russians to somehow realize the light had been turned off, despite the front window’s heavy curtains.

I threw open the window, and practically shoved Amy’s shaking body through the opening. Alistair was next, and he just made it outside when the front door opened. Several soldiers armed with assault rifles poured into the trailer, their heavy boots resounding
loudly across the cheap flooring.

“Оhu ухоdrт!”
shouted one of the Russians in the lead. He pointed his rifle at me, just as I began my climb through the window.

“Stop William!! Stop, goddamn it or we
will
shoot you!!”

It would take so much more than load
ed guns to get me to stop for Viktor Kaslow’s warning, since he intended to kill us all anyway. But as he aimed his pistol at my back, I did offer him something over my shoulder. A shit-eating grin. A really
big
shit-eating grin. After all, his sarcastic prophecy sort of came true: we did meet again, albeit on this side of the veil.

The last thing I saw from him, just before the barrage of bullets whistled above my head as I bolted through the window, was his own slight grin. One that was as cold and angry as any I’ve ever seen.

The hatred for me that had lain dormant for more than a decade was now reawakened.

Chapter 15

“Run!”
I hissed, motioning for Amy and Alistair to meet me over by a covered jeep less than fifty feet away.
“Run and don’t stop running until I tell you to stop!!”

Floodlights that surrounded the circle of trailers had just come on, and soldiers were moving between the buildings. They would be upon us at any moment. Not to mention the other mercenaries and scientists residing in the tents along the creek.

“I see them—there they are!” shouted another man, this one with English damned near as lucid as Viktor’s and the refined guttural version of Petr Stanislav.

Other voices joined in, although too excited for me catch what they said. No matter, since we were as good as dead anyway unless we got out of there. Suddenly, Alistair tripped and fell.

Shit!

“Pops, you and Amy need to go on! I don’t.... I
don’t
think I can make it!!” he said, between gasps for air after I ran over to him.

Maybe he wasn’t in the best shape of his life, but a fifty-yard jaunt normally wouldn’t be a big deal for him. It made me worry more about what he and Amy had endured in their captivity. Meanwhile, gunshots pelted the ground nearby, clearly announcing our pursuers were on their way.

“You’re coming with us, son—
period!”
I grabbed his arms and lifted him back to his feet. “Don’t you ever pull that ‘oh please, Dad, go on without me’ shit
ever
again! Do you understand? ...You and your mom are all I’ve got, so get it in your mind that you’re going to survive!
We’re
going to make it out of here
alive!!”

Although it was dangerous for him and me, I lifted Alistair onto my back and carried him over to the Jeep. But since our angry hosts had nearly caught up to us, there would be no way for me to hot-wire the vehicle in time to get out of there. So, I carried my son even further with Amy alongside me. Fortunately, only the scientists brought flashlights. It sounded like there was some confusion as to how and where to use them effectively—especially since it appeared there were only a couple available. Sheer lunacy, but I’ll take God’s help no matter what form it comes in. The lack of cohesive communication between civilian and army personnel allowed me just enough time and space to find another suitable Jeep among the dozen parked in a row.

Jeep number three was the one I picked, since it was close to the front of the line. A great number, if you think about it. God in three persons, three crucifixions, rising on the third day, the myriad multiples of three in the Talmud, and so on and so on. Call me superstitious—I’ll admit that’s true any day. Yet, more often than not, I do get lucky.

Like right then.

Not only was the vehicle unlocked, it belonged to one of the scientists. Anyone perpetually funded to play around with their pet projects is generally not the most responsible person on the planet. It certainly was the case here. The Jeep’s keys were still in the ignition.

“Keep an eye on Ali for me,” I told Amy, keeping my voice low while directing her to the backseat after I unloaded my son there. “Get in quickly, and keep your heads down!

She hesitated for a moment, and looked as if she wanted to say something. But, a sharp glare from me invoked her obedience...at least for the present moment. She had the presence of mind to close the passenger door quietly, which bought us an extra few seconds before I started the engine and all hell broke loose.

With the Jeep’s tires spitting gravel behind us, I tore out of there. A legion of other Jeeps, and the pair of Mercedes SUVs I saw would be after us very soon. In the meantime, the latest barrage of gunfire cleared out our Jeep’s windows, but missed the gas tank and the rear tires. Most importantly, Amy and my son were spared so far.

Viktor was out to kill me, with little interest in my capture and any further possible embarrassment in front of Petr Stanislav as his chief assassin. That was my assumption at this point. Luckily, only a few bullets had hit me. Two in the right shoulder and one grazing my left earlobe. Even before we crashed through the lone guard station on the way to the main highway heading back to Tehran, the wounds were healing. It’s always faster when the bullets pass through cleanly, instead of lingering like the irritating wood splinters I used to get in my toes and fingers as a kid.

“Where are we going?”

Amy posed the question once we had put several miles between Stanislav’s camp and us. Surprisingly, so far there were no obvious signs of pursuit. In the distance ahead, Iran’s capital city was a sea of twinkling lights. The night sky had grown lighter, morphing into the predawn blue of the coming sunrise. The clock on the Jeep’s dash read 4:14 a.m. We still had time to secure a hideout before daylight nixed that option.

“We’re going back home...to the states,” I said, evenly. “It’s far too dangerous to stay here any longer than necessary to get a flight ready to depart.”

Yes, this was harshly delivered, and not merely because her leaving the hotel without me seriously pissed me off. I had to make sure there were no further screw-ups on this misadventure. Hers and Alistair’s continued existence in this world depended upon it!

“I’m
not
going back to America!” Her voice was hushed, but her tone seething. “I’ll stay until I find my brother, and there’s not a damned thing
you
can do to stop me!”

I glanced at her, not at all surprised that she was glaring at me. Sitting in the backseat, my son’s head was cradled in her lap. He appeared to sleep, but knowing how my bloodline works I seriously doubted he wasn’t somewhat awake and listening.

“They
will
kill you next time—”

“You don’t think they
haven’t
killed a big part of me already?!” she said, angrily. “They’ve taken my father, and my mother. And while you were out cold the past two and a half days, the men took their time fondling me and trying to force me to take them in my mouth. When I resisted, they hit me. Then, they
cut
me! And when that didn’t work, they took it out on your son!!”

“I’m so sorry,” I told her, my voice dropping to just above a whisper. I meant it. As sincere an apology as I’ve ever felt. What she stated literally took the wind out of me.

Like Amy, I wanted to swing the Jeep around and go after those miscreant assholes. But, unlike her, I knew we might as well just drive the Jeep off the nearest cliff and call it a day. We’d never get close to Viktor, Stanislav, or whoever else assaulted her and Alistair. It obviously wasn’t either Nicholas or Vera, as I assumed she would’ve said so.

“You’re
sorry?
Maybe...but not near enough to try and restore something to my soul??”

“You’ll
die
and so will Ali!”

“But
you
won’t, will you?” Her anger was heated enough to rouse Alistair from her lap. He sat up, wincing while gingerly massaging the ligature burns around his neck.

I wanted to reply in kind, but forced myself to wait. To stay as calm as possible, and to keep my thoughts lucid while keeping an eye out for a place to hide. Dawn might still be over an hour away, but if we could see our surroundings more clearly than thirty minutes ago, then so could anyone else. We would have to pull over soon—especially if there was any serious consideration of continuing our search for Jeremy Golden Eagle. Otherwise, we needed to get to a hospital to treat Amy’s wounds and give my son a thorough checkup for both external and internal injuries. The latter option was the only sane one.

“Well?”

“You already know the answer to that question.” I eyed her sullenly through the rearview mirror. “Unlike what you might believe, I do have much to lose. Ali is the only flesh and blood I have left to protect. He and his mother mean more to me than life itself.”

Perhaps corny, I swear those words are true. I can’t even allow myself to think about life without either one, as when I do, I feel the very essence of my soul begin to whither. If it dies, what will be left? I shudder to consider what that means, so I push it from my mind. Always.

“We should give it one more try, Pops,” said Alistair, wincing again as if speaking the words was an arduous effort. “She and I heard Stanislav tell Kaslow about a chain of caves that were uncovered yesterday afternoon. Some crystal samples found there showed a high concentration of radioactivity, which apparently is what they’re looking for.”

“No shit?”

“Yes, Ali’s right,” confirmed
Amy. “Add that to what I heard on Monday, and I think Jeremy’s definitely around there someplace.”

“What if he’s dead?” I ignored the fact this might come across as insensitive. I had to make some definite decisions right then before we traveled much further. We had just passed the small village that lacked a moniker, and I remember thinking again how strange it was that any town—regardless how small—could exist without a name. “Could you handle it if that turned out to be the case?”

She didn’t respond right away. Going by gut instinct, I cut the lights and pulled the Jeep behind another row of thick evergreens a mile outside of the village. The spot felt right to me, as if it was the safest place in the entire country of Iran right then.

“I could handle it,” she said, softly, though even in the dimness I saw fiery defiance in her eyes. “But he’s not dead.... I just know he’s not.”

I cut the Jeep’s engine and listened for anything to be alarmed about, whether that was a convoy of Jeeps pursuing us, or one of the Mercedes creeping down the road behind us. For a moment, I worried about GPS tracking. But, unless such a tracker was hidden from view, the Jeep didn’t come with one.

“So, am I correct to assume that we’re going to try to find Jeremy?” said Alistair.

“Well, it depends on a few things, son,” I said. “The most important thing is if these guys come after us with full force, then we’re leaving. Period! Is that understood?

Neither Alistair nor Amy said anything for a moment, and I watched them glance at each other before Alistair spoke.

“Yes, Pops, that’s loud and clear.”

“You don’t have to be a smartass, Ali.”

“I don’t think that was his intent,” said Amy, sticking up for him. “And we both agree with you...we will leave and forget the whole thing if we’re outmatched.”

I nodded, wondering if this would actually be the way it went down should we be attacked.

“So what are the other stipulations?” said Alistair.

I watched him peer warily through the glass-less passenger window to his left.

“Look behind the back seat and see if we’ve got anything for sustenance,” I said, while scanning the area around us. I didn’t detect anything of immediate concern, and I uttered a muted thanksgiving since the sky above was getting lighter, and visibility around us had become significantly enhanced since we pulled in behind the trees. “There could be some first aid supplies, as well.

“There is. Supplies, food, and...it looks like there is a case of water, too!”

It was Amy who spoke, and she was unable to mask her enthusiasm. Nor did she try to veil her lovely smile. This was probably the best moment she had experienced since she and Alistair ventured into the Alborz Mountains Sunday morning.

“But it looks like the food consists only of dry products.” Alistair sounded disappointed. “Trail mix, crackers, nutrition bars….”

“Enough to last a couple of days, since there are three of us!”

Like a kid with the chance of going to a carnival, Amy would play whatever angle might get her another chance at finding her brother. I wasn’t convinced we had enough food and water to last more than a day, even after taking me out of the equation to further stretch our newfound resources.

But we did have enough necessities to support a return to the hornets’ nest. Food, water, supplies, and a head start were all good things. Plus, my son and the woman who held such sway upon us both could now rest for a few hours before we engaged in a second round.... Our second attempt to find the elusive Garden of Eden.

Hopefully, it wasn’t a bigger mistake than the first try.

Chapter 16

I waited until the sun began its daily climb above the eastern horizon before rousing Alistair and Amy. Somehow they had managed to position themselves to where both slept comfortably in the backseat...well at least as comfortable as cramped quarters would allow. I wanted them to catch a few hours sleep before we launched ourselves back into insanity. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to allow the locals their Muslim prayer customs before trekking through the village again.

Yes, that was the plan...to
walk
back toward the drilling site. Apparently Amy overheard another scientist talk about an ancient well near the gate at the rear of the village. The well was supposed to be the main source of water for the villagers until it dried up a century ago. Since Stanislav’s scientists would also be looking for this well soon—along with mercenaries on patrol and on the lookout for us—driving the stolen Jeep didn’t seem like a good idea.

When she first mentioned her idea of trying to find this well, which might actually be a part of the extensive cave system where her brother could be hiding, I was skeptical. But while waiting for her and Alistair to awaken, it started to make sense to me.

More often than not in my double-millennium existence, ideas that at first seemed insane but later have grown on me have, in fact, turned out to be spot on—
dead
spot on. Many of my coin recoveries have worked that way, and some of the crazy encounters with other immortal beings were born from the absurd hunches—the proverbial ‘wild hair up my ass’, so to speak. Often, it starts with a subtle trembling sensation in my gut. A similar experience visited me that morning while watching the sun peer over the taller peaks in the Alborz range.

It felt right. If Jeremy Golden Eagle was still alive, that’s where we’d find him—I was certain of it.

“Hey, why didn’t you wake us up?” Alistair accosted me as I returned to the Jeep after taking a short surveillance stroll around the immediate fifty-foot perimeter of the vehicle. “We wanted to travel in the coolest part of the day, Pops, before the sun came up. Now, we’ll sweat like pigs!”

Like he wasn’t already in sore need of a bath. For that matter, all three of us were a bit ripe. But so were many of the locals we would encounter shortly, since western hygiene wasn’t the standard here in the ‘town with no name’.

“Then we should fit right in,” I teased. “All you need is a kippah and wooden sandals, and then you’ll really be styling it!”

Amy chuckled, which broadened the smile upon my face. Even Alistair cracked a slight grin while shaking his head.

Yes, that day promised to be better than the night before.

“I suggest you both eat something, and then we can be on our way,” I said. “Trail mix and a couple of nutritional bars should do the trick!”

I laughed lightheartedly. Without waiting for their response, I went ahead and gathered the other supplies we might need. A compass, flashlight, and a flare gun were the most useful of the pile of crap in the back seat. Along with a GPS tracker, which was thankfully turned off, I found a lightweight tent in the rear of the vehicle large enough to house two of us. That, of course, would be for my more frail companions, since I could deal with the elements that wouldn’t leave any lasting effects on my physical person. Unfortunately, the scientist to whom the Jeep was assigned must be a rare Russian pacifist, as I found no weapons of any kind.

“So, you’re actually going to do this?” Amy seemed pleased, once I returned to the front of the Jeep where she and Alistair waited for me. She looked amazing—vibrantly alive, despite light bruising on her face from yesterday’s ordeal. She had managed to repair her blouse to where her other injuries were hidden from view. “I thought you said exploring the old well was ‘a complete waste of precious time’ and ‘a sure way to get our asses turned into an Iranian stew’!”

“That still might be true.” I motioned for them to follow me back onto the path that led to the village’s main entrance. “Especially, since we have no artillery to ward off Stanislav’s soldiers. But, perhaps we will reach this well you mentioned before they do.”

I knew they both would keep pace with me after a comment like that...a little coercion from one of the best manipulators to have ever lived. I chuckled, especially after seeing my boy’s expression. Pained...like he truly dreaded the potential hazards involved with this second excursion. Surely, he would’ve been quite content to head back to Tehran. Perhaps another example of how Amy’s charms continued to pull on his chivalrous instincts?

“What’s so damned funny, Pops?”

“You,” I told him. “I can read you so well, son.”

He started to say something—likely something smartass—but I picked up my pace before he could get it out. It probably was foolish for me to say what I did, since often the ‘professor’ side of my son’s personality could turn a short discussion into a drawn-out debate.

“Or, so you think!” he called after me, sounding indignant.

He sped up to catch me, and Amy caught up to him. She locked her arm inside his while giving him a playful look. He was in the process of trying to say something else to me. But as she drew his attention to her, his mouth closed as if some invisible hand had reached inside his head from the back and shut him down like a ventriloquist puppet.

Much more effective than I could’ve done, I shot her a thankful look and turned my full attention to the path ahead. The village entrance, marked by a smaller gateway than the one in the town’s rear, had just come into view. Instinctively I scanned our surroundings, opening all of my senses to determine if any hidden dangers lurked nearby. So far, there was nothing I could pick up on

“We’ll need to be careful once we enter the village, since Fajr may still be in progress,” I advised. “If we got here earlier, we might’ve faced a good old fashioned stoning for interrupting the beginning of their day. I’d say it’s worth sweating a bit more, wouldn’t you two?”

I heard a chuckle from her and a groan from him.

Meanwhile, a trio of men came up to us just as we reached the village entrance. All three were dressed in long robes in a mixture of purple, red, and green hues. They reminded me of what my Hebrew brethren wore many centuries ago. And after some initial seriousness in their expressions, each one’s countenance was transformed to looks of peace and joy once they recognized me from a few days earlier.

This increased my nostalgia, and I remembered how it was when Jesus travelled through the sea towns near Galilee. All of us—his disciples—were dressed like this, and walked with him either at his side or trailing close behind. There were once seventeen of us—five more disciples than the commonly accepted dozen, and two of these were women. That’s another subject for a later time.

I assumed the man in the middle was their leader, a handsome middle-aged patriarch. Taller and more assertive than the others, he remembered our conversation from the other day, when we spoke in a feudal form of Persian from when the Shahs first came to power. His light green eyes were aglow with compassion. A wide, generous smile spread across his face once he recognized Alistair and Amy from their Sunday visit.

As when we spoke previously, he was the only villager who seemed to understand any English, though not the modern terms and phrases. When I tried to describe the abandoned well we sought, at first my mixture of English and ancient Persian seemed to confuse him. Luckily, Alistair was here this time. Using a combination of gestures and a more modern Persian dialect, he soon made headway toward finding specifics on where the old well sat.

“Zoran stated to me that the well we seek sits less than thirty cubits from the gate carved in the mountainside,” said Alistair, translating what the man had told him once the trio had stepped back through the entrance, where they motioned for us to follow them. A glint of excitement and dread danced within my son’s eyes. “There apparently are two wells...one much older than the other. Both are hidden within the brush, and one is home to the deadly vipers we discussed the night Cedric was attacked…. Are we really sure we still want to do this?”

I guess we just found the limit on Alistair’s chivalry barometer. Oh and for those unaware, a cubit is the distance between the thumb and another finger to the elbow of an average person. Of course, what an average person was twenty-five hundred years ago when this system was widely used is significantly different from the modern average Joe. I guess the last time these folks took a math class was back when the ancient Greeks occupied Persia. Suffice it to say, I interpreted Zoran’s advisement to mean the standard definition of a cubit—eighteen inches or so. That would put the abandoned well we sought roughly forty-five to fifty feet away from the gate.