The Treasures of Death Valley by Tom Hunter

Author:Tom Hunter [Hunter, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

Like ants up a hill, they marched from the mine’s entrance. The sunset behind them was a dark rosy glow, as the blanket of night approached. Thankfully, their goggles had infrared for better night vision.

Ramon focused his binoculars and saw what looked to be a body wrapped tightly in cloth, carried on a stretcher. Next came a few more members of the same medical team, followed closely by those wearing headsets and desert camouflage. Ah, the comms team. And last, bringing up the rear, he watched first Thomas Knight come out deep in conversation with the weird Amish kid. They were followed by the Hogan woman. What was she carrying? Looked like some kind of box. His brow furrowed. An open box? Oh well, all the better to see what was in it. Jewels and artifacts were nearly dripping from it. Last out, the two kids: the Hispanic looking girl and the preppy boy. He waited a few more minutes, in case any stragglers came into view, but as the sun dipped below the horizon and night settled, he saw no reason to stay.

Ramon had watched them in varying degrees of detachment and interest, but when he saw the treasure box in Abby’s hands, he slammed his fist on a stone. He cursed first in Portuguese, then English. “Dammit to hell! I knew there was a reason they didn’t want to continue that day. And shit, that means the Welker bitch was right. I did shoot too soon!” Frustrated and mentally kicking himself, he jumped and nearly belted one of the soldiers whose only crime was to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, man. Ramon,” the soldier held up his hands to stop him. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I am pissed! The treasure is here. It has to be. Look!” And he pointed toward Abby, who’d already melted into the night, and beat another rock with his fist. “Noah, the little weaselly piss-ant, got it wrong. He’s looking in the wrong damn place.”

“Seems like better luck, next time, chum,” sighed the soldier, shrugging in defeat.

Ramon looked at him incredulously, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, doesn’t look like there’s any way to get into this dig site. There’s too many people around – guards, staff, volunteers, students, you name it. Not to mention our own site’s thirty miles away,” explained the soldier.

A heavily accented voice, thick like chewing rocks, growled Ramon’s answer, “You’re right. Our site is too far away. But, I was on that team for the same reason I’m on this one. I refuse to come away from this empty-handed.”

“So, what do you want to do?” his soldier asked.

“Nothing. Yet. We aren’t being paid to kill…” a slow grisly smile creased his face as he pondered his idea. “But, I may be able to change that. I will speak with Ashbridge,” Ramon answered cryptically.

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