“My connections go deep, my friend,” he looked back and smiled as he walked along, panting slightly from the activity. “After you told me what happened, I suspected that whoever was after you in the States would follow you here. Since they want what you want but don’t have a clue where to find it or perhaps even what they were looking for, we let them have a little false information to buy us some time.”
“You told them we were coming here?” Tommy looked befuddled.
“In a manner of speaking,” Delgado continued. “This is not the church of Carlos Crespi. This is Iglesia de San Blas. It is much older and fit the part of our little act perfectly. It looks like an ancient building where secrets would be kept. I doubt the men who are after you have researched it at all.”
“Nice work, amigo,” Sean said with a grin as they rounded a curve. Up ahead, faint lights could be seen through a metal grate at the end of the passageway. Fresh air began to mingle with the musty air of the tunnel.
“So,” Tommy interrupted, “they think we are inside that church trying to find clues to Crespi’s vault, but that isn’t Crespi’s church. Now where are we going?”
“The Church of Maria Auxiliadora.”
Hunter Carlson was growing restless. The group had been in the church for around thirty minutes. What was taking them so long? The team of assets watching the church seemed content to wait. He knew they had all the exits covered since he’d observed them setting up a perimeter around the building previously. Still, he’d had enough waiting. Pulling a hat down low over his head and bunching up his green, canvas jacket so that the collars covered part of his face, he set off across the plaza’s cobblestone streets towards the entrance of the building.
“Sir?” The voice came through the earpiece again.
“We see him,” James Collack answered before his team leader could finish asking the question.”
Angela looked over at him, puzzled. “Who is it?” she asked.
They’d been sitting behind a dumpster, out of clear line-of-site for almost an hour. The stranger walking from the bar to the front of the church was the first movement they’d seen in a while, save for the occasional cab that would pull up and take away another of the bar’s patrons.
“Sit tight,” James ordered the team leader.
They watched as the man strolled casually to the large doorway and disappeared inside.
“Must need a late night confession,” Angela joked.
Still, James wasn’t so sure. What was taking Wyatt’s group so long? And who were the men that had driven them there and then pulled guns on them?
“We’re giving it fifteen more minutes and then we’re going in,” he said finally.
Angela nodded, though in her mind she was becoming more and more tired of her partner’s weakness.
Hunter lowered his jacket slightly once he was inside the building. Iglesia de San Blas was one of the religious crowned jewels of Ecuador and beholding it in person was extremely impressive even for someone with no historical background. It wasn’t as dramatic or elegant as some of the European cathedrals he’s seen in his travels but for South America, it was definitely spectacular. The musty smell of old stone and religion filled his nostrils, like so many of the old churches he’d visited in the past. Something, though, was missing. The group of men who’d come in previously were nowhere to be found.
He walked quickly to the confessionals that were located off to the side near the center of the building but a quick check revealed them to be empty. Looking in the presbytery in the front, as well as a few side rooms, also proved futile. Finally, he made his way over to a doorway to the left of the pulpit area and opened it. The door revealed a narrow hallway that extended down the length of the building, which most likely contained the priest’s quarters, church offices, and maintenance rooms. He decided to go to the right first since that direction was closer to the end of the facility. If there was nothing there he would make his way back to the front and hope he could figure out where they’d gone.
A few doors on the left, one marked “Prayer Chamber” and another “Treasury Office,” were locked. The lone door on the right, though, was unlocked. Upon opening it, Hunter noticed that it was essentially just a big storage closet. He flicked a light on and took a quick inventory of the room. A candelabra sat nearby, an old desk, and a bookshelf with a sparse collection of books. Satisfied there was nothing of note in the room, he began to turn off the light switch when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. On the smooth, stone floor in front of the bookcase, there was a slightly discolored line. It wasn’t so distinct that many people would notice but he was different than most people. Keen observation of settings had been a trait that had saved his hide on more than one occasion. He stepped back into the room and eased the door shut, creeping over to the heavy-looking bookcase. As he neared it, he knelt down onto one knee and ran a finger over the thin, curving line. The realization hit him. Something had scraped the stone.
Outside the church, The Prophet’s team was getting anxious, especially its two leaders.
“I say we go in,” Angela stared hard at James while she spoke.
“We were told to sit and wait,” he replied sternly, with a glare that was equally as steadfast.
“We’ve waited long enough,” she stated as she stood from her hiding place.
Before he could stop her, she was already talking into the microphone. “Team, we are moving in. Units two and three cover the rear entrance. Unit’s one and four, take the front with us. We will meet in the middle.” Within seconds, the square was flooded with agents, all sprinting hard towards the building from four different angles.
Upon reaching the front door, Weaver and Collack placed their backs against the cool stone pillars next to the center door. The other assets assumed similar positions near the other doors. Angela took the lead and opened the center door first, leading with her weapon, checking left and right and up above. “Clear,” she announced.
The other units followed into the cavernous building. They were greeted with a cool, damp air. The cathedral, however, was empty. The group hustled down the aisles, checking in corners and between pews as they moved. A few moments later, the units that had come from the rear of the building appeared at the Presbytery.
“Nothing up here, boss,” a familiar voice said through the earpiece.
Confused, the agents continued to look around. One man in the center, lowered his weapon held out his hands as if their targets had just vanished. When he spoke, it was the voice from the radio communication.
“Where’d they go?”
“Nothing in the back of the church?” Angela was furious.
“Nothin, boss,” he answered.
“And you were covering the rear of the cathedral the whole time?”
“The whole time,” he didn’t like her tone. “If anyone had left out the back of this old building, we would have noticed. Plus, the back door was locked. We had to smash it to get in.”
James looked at his partner, confused. He was used to things being easy. During their time together, they’d completed many missions, killed many people, and always done it in a timely and simple fashion. The whole affair was starting to get under his skin. “They couldn’t have just vanished!” he yelled. “Teams one and two, search every room and office in the rear of the building. Teams three and four, check all the confessionals and chambers in the front.”
“But sir, some of the priests live in a few of those rooms,” a young man said to James’ left.