Lewis still yearned to get his motorcycle onto some secluded dirt, but the previous 36 hours had sufficiently tired him out. It was only a 20-mile ride down I84 to the small town of Rowena where Lewis lived. The wind was already picking up in the Columbia River Gorge and Lewis enjoyed watching the kite-boarders soar off the waves as he passed by. Maybe he would get his kite and board out later today, after he got some much needed food and rest. Lewis’s house was on the river so he could easily get out and play whenever he wanted.
Lewis parked the motorcycle in the fourth stall of his newly-remodeled garage and headed into the house. With no regard for the mess he would have to clean up later, Lewis started shedding his filthy clothes the moment he was inside. At this point, he was driven solely by the thought of his new custom shower, which was nearly an exact replica of a small, secluded waterfall he had found in Thailand during a six-month consulting job a few years ago. The stones that made up the shower were actually brought in from Thailand to match the texture that he remembered so fondly. Forty minutes later, the waterfall shower had worked magic on his aching muscles.
After the shower, Lewis wrapped himself in a towel and headed to the kitchen to get something to eat. As he entered the living room, he noticed a large man sitting in the corner recliner. Quinn Lewis prided himself on his ability to remain calm under pressure so instead of jumping and screaming like a frightened schoolgirl, he continued towards the kitchen and offered, “I’m making a sandwich. Can I get you anything?”
“Not now,” was the only reply.
Lewis turned and smiled at the man, who was even bigger than Lewis first thought. More like a rhinoceros with a crew cut — like a “Rhino Man,” Lewis thought to himself. Then Lewis noticed that Rhino Man had a partner, who was sitting in the rocker over by the fireplace. “What about you?” Lewis asked Rhino Junior. Junior probably weighed only 275 pounds so he was slightly smaller than Rhino Man.
Junior’s dark eyes never left Lewis as he responded, “You need to come with us. Our boss needs to talk to you.”
“I’ll get you my card and he can call me on Monday,” Lewis shot back. “Although I should warn you that I’m pretty booked up.”
Lewis earned his degree in computer programming from Caltech. He started out writing computer code for various video game development companies and gradually became more involved with the overall design and architecture of the games. Eventually, Lewis became what the industry calls a solution engineer — it was his job to design the software to get the most difficult jobs done. While working as a consultant, Lewis designed software for numerous platforms outside the gaming industry. Lewis was so good at designing and implementing solutions to complex computer problems that other industries began seeking him out to solve their real life problems. It turns out that solution engineer was a perfect title for Quinn Lewis; the guy was naturally good at problem solving. Lewis did a lot of contract work for large corporations, various government organizations, and all branches of the military; as well as others with less distinct positions in society. The Rhino Brothers seemed to belong to this latter group.
“Am I overdressed?” Lewis questioned calmly as he looked down at his towel.
“Two minutes,” Rhino Man grunted.
Lewis quickly got dressed in a pair of cargo pants and a white t-shirt, rejoining the Rhino Brothers in the living room. As they headed out the door, Lewis stopped to grab the Carhartt jacket, which he knew still held his Leatherman multi-tool; simple things like that had a sneaky way of coming in handy.
Lewis was motioned into the backseat of the familiar-looking Mercedes Benz. He climbed in, buckled up, and fell asleep almost immediately.
Chapter 2 — BREIFING
Lewis was fully awake and alert within a half second of the car engine being turned off. He was still in the back seat of the Mercedes, which now sat in front of one of the many warehouses along the waterfront just west of downtown Portland. Junior opened the back door and pointed to an open bay on the dilapidated warehouse.
The smell of diesel fuel and cigarette smoke met Lewis as he slowly worked his tired body out of the back seat. The wind had died down and the sun was setting across the river to the west. It would have been a nice night if only his companions made better company.
“Thanks for the ride, gentlemen,” Lewis said as he offered to shake hands. “It is nearing my bedtime though, so I should probably get back home soon.”
Junior simply continued to point towards the waiting doorway with an angry grimace on his face. Lewis walked through the bay door with his new henchman friends on either side as an electric motor started to lower the massive steel door. The interior of the warehouse was filled with row after row of 20-foot tall shelves, each absolutely loaded with identical wooden boxes bearing 5-digit numbers stenciled on all sides. No labels were visible, however, to reveal the contents.
In the far corner was an impromptu meeting area with a large table and eight office chairs. Only one chair remained unoccupied, and Lewis was guessing it was for him. As he casually took his seat, the Rhino Brothers turned and left. Lewis took a quick glance around the table to find a diverse group staring back at him. Not recognizing anyone, Lewis’s gaze returned to an attractive woman seated across the table; she looked to be of some sort of Caribbean descent. Maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Lewis started to introduce himself, “Hey there, I’m-” before he was cut off by a short, somewhat stocky man who was now standing at the head of the table.
“Welcome everyone!” the apparent ringleader boomed. “I’m Michael Stonewood.” Mr. Stonewood paused after introducing himself as if he expected everyone to clap or something. There was only silence. Stonewood continued. “I’d like to thank you all for joining me on such short notice, and I apologize for the abruptness with which some of you were brought here; however, as you will soon see, time is critical.”
As Stonewood spoke, a young blond with shapely legs walked around the table, handing each of Stonewood’s “guests” a 24-page packet of paper. The older, academic-looking man seated next to Lewis quickly thanked her and immediately began reading the packet. The others glanced at the packets but left them on the table, their looks remaining skeptical while their eyes stayed on Stonewood. Lewis had been to these sorts of gatherings before — a bunch of experts from a variety of fields getting together to help some big wig figure out some sort of problem. Lewis hoped this wouldn’t take long so he could get back to something more important.
Stonewood continued. “The first page in your packet is a photocopy of a portion of my great uncle’s journal. As you can see, Uncle Pete was a trapper and prospector throughout the Oregon Territory during the early 19th century. During a near-deadly prospecting trip along the Snake River in Hell’s Canyon, Uncle Pete slipped into a rain-swollen creek, where he was washed over a waterfall and into a cave that contained some sort of secret treasure horde. The inventory from my uncle’s journal mentions two tons of gold bars, 16 kegs of gold coins, and piles of gems. Uncle Pete spent the next two weeks building a huge wooden raft to transport part of the treasure to the territorial outpost in Lewiston. Unfortunately, a massive thunderstorm sparked a landslide that drastically changed the flow of the creek and completely buried the cave. Uncle Pete drowned a month later while trying to locate an alternate entrance he believed to lie beneath the Snake River.” Stonewood paused and surveyed the room as everyone began flipping through the first few pages of their packets, studying and reviewing the maps and diagrams within.