Neither Dane nor Bones could stop from doubling over with laughter. Marshall sounded even more uncomfortable.
“What?”
Dane grinned. “Wasn’t too many weeks ago we were in a constant state of wanting to kill each other.”
Bones looked at him. “And that’s different from an old married couple how?”
Marshall stood up from the table. “Forget it. So you say you know where the document is now?”
“We have a pretty good guess.” Dane told Marshall the suspected location.
“That makes a lot of sense. Do you think O’Meara knows?”
“I’d like to say no, but it could only have been a matter of time until he found the document inside the map. Who knows if he’ll make the connection. The sooner we get there, the better.”
“I’d love to go with you, but I have a function I can’t miss. I’m already late. You’re gonna let me know what you find, right?”
Dane gave silent thanks that he didn’t have to tell Marshall he couldn’t come. No way would he and Bones have brought the man along into what would almost certainly carry major risk of getting shot.
“Of course.”
“All right, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Unless something happens to you. How will I know?”
Bones looked at Marshall. “There are two possible ways you’ll know what happened. One is we’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“What’s the other?”
“You’ll have to read the obituaries.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Hell yes! Eventually it had to happen that we got the drop on them instead of the other way around. I am going to enjoy this.”
“Bones can you raise your voice any more? I don’t think they heard us back in California.”
“Aw, get that stick out of your butt, Maddock. They’re being loud enough to wake the dead. Which come to think of it might be a bad thing in this place.”
Dane looked around. He and Bones crouched behind a tree near a wall that crossed the middle of the Christ Church Burial Ground. Located at Arch and Fifth Street in Philadelphia, it contained the graves of several famous individuals, including Benjamin Franklin as well as one half of the printing partnership that printed the Constitution: John Dunlap.
They had discovered the location almost by accident, in a brochure in the lobby of their motel. He and Bones had already concluded that Dunlap’s grave was the most likely location. The other printer, Claypoole, died much later and was not as well known as Dunlap. Dunlap died twenty-four years after Franklin but still well within the time during which Franklin’s executor John Jay could have arranged for the document to be buried with him. It seemed strange, but no other option made any sense at all. They’d probably never know for sure.
Dane had resigned himself to one more call to Jimmy Letson to find the location, which surely would have required a truckload of Wild Turkey to pay off the favor. However, the brochure for Christ Church Burial Ground had saved him the trouble.
Looking out over the graves, they could see his marker in the distance. Digging up the document carried a lot of risks. Walking into a cemetery at night with shovels and a crowbar couldn’t be explained away as anything but what it was. Not to mention that the area was patrolled by a security guard and Dunlap’s grave was right near the well-lit front gate. They had arrived at the location unsure exactly how they would overcome these obstacles but determined to do so anyway.
Sneaking over the wall, Dane just hoped they weren’t triggering some sort of silent alarm. The first thing they saw was a group of men near Dunlap’s grave. When one of them stepped into the light, Dane recognized him instantly.
O’Meara.
Almost without thinking, he and Bones ducked further into the shadows. Scanning the area, he noticed a couple of shapes on the ground between them and O’Meara. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found himself looking at two crumpled figures dressed in standard security guard uniforms. He felt bad for the men, but it was one less problem to deal with.
Bones put a hand on his shoulder. “What now?”
“Well, there are three of them there. They have to have at least one lookout. Maybe two. We better sweep the perimeter and see if we can find them.”
“Should we split up?”
Dane considered the layout. “For once I’m gonna say no. We won’t be able to sweep all the way around and meet in the middle; they’re too close to the wall. But stay about ten yards behind me. Slow and steady, okay?”
“Your command is my wish.”
Dane started a slow and even sweep along the wall. In one spot it jutted into the middle of the area, and for a short period he was visible if O’Meara or a lookout chose the moment to look in that direction. But he made it around without incident and let out a breath.
As he neared the end of the circuit, he could hear the low voices of O’Meara and his two men mixed with the sound of shovels striking the earth. He almost missed the shadow that passed in front of him, but stopped just in time. A man stood just outside the fence. Dane watched him for a few minutes, vaguely aware that Bones had maintained his position ten yards away. Twice the man walked by the main gate and then returned to where Dane had first spotted him. Clearly this was O’Meara’s sentry.
He motioned to Bones, who glided over. “Think you can get over the fence and take him out without any noise?”
“Did a spaceship really crash in Roswell?”
Before Dane could comment, Bones slid over to the fence and disappeared from view. Dane watched the man patrolling outside. Less than a minute later, he saw a huge shadow move at breakneck speed toward the man. A moment later, both figures disappeared.
When Bones returned, Dane asked, “What did you do?”
Bones said, “Vulcan death grip.”
Dane raised an eyebrow.
“Relax, man, I used the one Spock used on Kirk, not the one that actually kills you.”
“Bones, sometimes I wonder about you.”
“Only sometimes? I’ll have to try harder. Now we take out O’Meara, right?”
“Yeah, but it’d be nice if we can do it without any shots fired. Someone’s bound to show up if we start a gunfight.”
“If you go around that side, pull your AR and tell them to freeze, the one guy who’s standing a few feet away from O’Meara and the guy with the shovel will never see me behind him and I can do the Vulcan thing. Can’t guarantee O’Meara doesn’t decide to shoot it out instead of surrendering, but that doesn’t seem his style.”
“I like it, Bones. As soon as you take the guy out, step over to the grave and see what they’ve found.”
Bones held out a fist and Dane struck it with his own. Unlike the largely ceremonial gestures used by rappers and sports figures, a SEAL fist bump usually carried a serious undercurrent of violence and a very real risk of a bone bruise. With combat imminent, they took it easy this time.
“Hands in the air. Now!” Dane had decided to take a chance with a loud voice in the hope of increasing the surprise factor.
It worked. O’Meara and the man digging turned and stared at the barrel of the AR-15 from a few feet away. With disgust on his face, O’Meara raised his hands and gestured to the other man to do the same. He nodded in the direction of the third man just as that man collapsed, revealing Bones with another rifle.
“O’Meara. Good to see you again,” Bones said.
“Just when I’d almost put you out of my mind. Remind me, are you the one who’s smart or the one who’s good looking?”
“Tough words from a guy in your position. Normally I might take offense and kick your ass, but I’ll forgo that if you just step aside.”
O’Meara stared for another few seconds before moving. Bones stepped towards the grave.