“Maybe we can,” Saxon said. “The curators at the WaltersArt Museum in Baltimore recently deciphered a thousand-year-old message that had been hidden in a palimpsest. They may be able to do something with this. I wish Austin were here to share these wonderful discoveries. When will he be back from his errand?”
Zavala had been thinking about Austin even in the subterranean depths of the lake. Austin was a survivor, but by allowing himself to be kidnapped by the ruthless Baltazar, he was jumping into the abyss. As he got to his feet and prepared to collect his dive gear, he said, “Soon. Damnsoon, I hope.”
Chapter 50
AUSTIN AND FLAGG SAT IN the Bentley with the motor running, eyeing the entrance to Baltazar’s estate.
“I thought you said these folks were unfriendly,” Flagg said. “Looks like they’re expecting us.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Austin said.
They had spent the last hour trying to find another way into Baltazar’s estate but encountered heavy woods and electrified fence. They got lost in the maze of dirt roads around the property and found themselves back at the main gate. It was wide-open.
Austin leaned on the steering wheel. “This must be what goes through a lobster’s mind before he crawls into the trap. Carina’s myfriend, not yours. We can still wait for reinforcements.”
“Reinforcements will just get in the way,” Flagg scoffed. He produced a third pistol. “Go slow. I’ll watch the bushes for redskins.”
Austin put the car into gear and drove through the gates. Flagg sat up on the back of the seat with a gun in each hand. No one tried to stop them. The road broke out of the woods, and Austin headed for the jousting field. The tents had all been leveled. The fabric was ripped and covered with tire tracks. The reviewing stand was unchanged, except for an added feature.
As they neared the stand, Flagg tensed. “What the hell is that?”
A human figure was hanging from the front of the stand, its chin touching its chest. Arms and legs dangled loosely.
Austin clutched the Glock in one hand and drove closer.
“Aw, hell,” he said.
“Anyone you know?”
“I’m afraid so,” Austin said.
It was Squire. A lance pinned him to the stand like a butterfly in a display case.
Austin continued on past the reviewing stand and its macabre decoration and came to the SUV he had played chicken with and the vehicle it had crashed into. Both were heavily damaged.
“What happened here?” Flagg said.
“Demolition derby,” Austin said. He continued on to the gorge.
The field that had been crowded with vehicles and Baltazar’s men was deserted. Even the horses and their trailers had vanished. There were deep tire tracks in the grass, indicating intense truck activity.
Austin described his joust with Baltazar and his encounter with the Carina stand-in. Then he turned around and drove back to the reviewing stand. He told Flagg that he owed Squire a favor. They pulled the lance out and gently wrapped Squire in a piece of tent fabric. After placing the body in the reviewing stand they explored some side roads and came upon a vacant hangar and airstrip, which explained Baltazar’s fast escape.
They decided to check out the house. Austin turned up the driveway to the mansion. The two-story hacienda looked as if it had been plucked from the Spanish countryside. The walls were light brown smooth stucco. Rounded parapets decorated the corners of a roof covered in red tile. Arched windows framed a large, intricately carved porch.
Austin parked in front of the house. Still no opposition. He and Flagg got out of the car and made their way through a courtyard to a tall double door of dark-paneled wood. Austin opened the doors. No one blew his head off, so he stepped into the spacious entry hall.
He and Flagg took turns covering each other as they went through the lower level room by room. Next they searched the second story. They found the room with the balcony. It was a study, with a large desk and leather chairs. Austin went out on the balcony. He had a view of the surrounding lawns and fields. Nothing moved within his field of vision except for a few crows.
“Hey, Austin,” Flagg called. “Your pal left you a note.”
Flagg was pointing to a sheet of Baltazar’s stationery taped to a remote control on a side table. Below the bull’s-head logo were the words: Dear Austin, Please watch the video. VB
“Too polite. Might be a booby trap,” Flagg said.
“I don’t think so. Baltazar likes to torture before he kills.”
Flagg’s expression mirrored his doubts, but he picked up the remote and pressed the ON button.
A section of wall disappeared to reveal a wide television screen. Baltazar’s smiling face appeared on the screen. The video had evidently been shot in the study, because behind Baltazar was the door leading to the balcony.
“Greetings, Austin,” Baltazar said. “I apologize for this hasty message, but I had family business to attend to. Miss Mechadi is with me. You didn’t know that she is the direct descendant of Solomon and Sheba. I must carry out my family mission and offer her to Ba’al. I had plans to spare her, but Ba’al sent you as a scourge who would remind me to return to my family roots. Adriano will be disappointed, but he has become quite obsessed with you. I suggest that you keep looking over your shoulder. Thank you, Austin. It was a pleasure jousting.” He smiled. “You can keep my car. I have others.”
The picture faded.
Flagg frowned. “Guy’s a real nutcase.”
“Unfortunately, he’s a lethalnutcase. And he’s got Carina. You found this place. Any luck locating other holes where he might go to ground?”
“It was hard enough to locate thisshack,” Flagg said with a shake of his head. “We’re still working on it, but with all the dummy corporations he’s got set up it’s tough. Who’s this Adriano?”
“The stuff of nightmares.” Austin stuck his hand out. “I need to borrow your phone.”
ZAVALA WAS CLIMBING into the helicopter cockpit when he heard “La Cucaracha” jangling in the pocket where he kept his phone. He put the phone to his ear and heard a familiar voice:
“You’re still answering calls, so I guess you didn’t run off to Mexico with Solomon’s gold,” Austin said.
Zavala grinned broadly.
“And Baltazar must have gotten sick of your wisecracks because you’re still making them.”
“Something like that,” Austin said. “Did you find the mine?”
“Yup. No gold, Kurt, but we found another treasure hidden in the mine. The other piece of the vellum map in a box apparently owned by Thomas Jefferson.”
“ Jeffersonagain. I’m going to let you and the Trouts work on that one. Baltazar’s still got Carina. I need to talk to Saxon.”
Zavala passed the phone to Saxon, who said, “Kurt, can you believeit?”
Austin cut him short. “I’m interested, but not now. Baltazar left me a message. I’m going to let you hear his exact words. If there is any hint of his plans, no matter how slight, I want you to tell me.”
Austin clicked the television remote and held the phone up so Saxon could hear Baltazar’s chilling good-bye.
There was a stunned silence at Saxon’s end, then he said, “He believes Carina is descended from Solomon?”
“Apparently so. What’s the reference to Ba’al mean?”
He quickly regained his composure.
“He said he’s going to offer Carina to Ba’al. It can only mean one thing. He’s going to sacrificeher to the god Ba’al. The bastard! We’ve got to find her before it’s too late.”
“You’ve known the man longer than I have. Any ideas where could he have taken her?”
“Not specifically.”
“His company owns a mercenary ship. Is that where he’s taken her?”