Ulrich’s head turned toward the dead body of his associate as it rolled to a stop at the base of the stage. He pointed the barrel at where the mortal shot had come from and unleashed another quick succession of rounds.
The larger guard who had previously been occupied with Tommy was forced to join the fray. With an almost superhuman strength, the bulky man seized Tommy with one hand and fired his weapon with the other. His .45 caliber resonated louder than everyone else’s, thundering explosions off the walls as he fired.
With one bad guy down the fight was a little more even, but the hostages still made things dicey. “Just let the men go, Jurgenson or whoever you are!” Sean yelled from behind the church pew. “It’s over! The police are on their way here right now! And you don’t have many more bullets left in that gun.”
“I don’t believe you would call the police, Sean. Besides, you are the one they are looking for.” As he answered, his eyes checked out two closed doors with an exit sign over them about twenty feet away. The guard looked over and noticed Ulrich had motioned with his head to follow out the exit.
The big man nodded his silent acknowledgement and popped off two quick shots at both Allyson’s and Sean’s hiding place. Then immediately, he dragged Tommy by the neck across the stage and down the steps, right behind the tall blonde.
“What do we do?” Joe mouthed across the aisle.
“I don’t know,” Sean replied. “I can’t get a clean shot.”
Allyson shook her head. She had no angle either.
Suddenly, a muffled shot came from somewhere else in the building. It sounded like the front corner of the sanctuary.
Sean risked a look over top of the pew he’d been hiding behind and saw the empty stage. His stomach turned at the realization.
Rising up from his cover, he scanned the corners and crevices of the church, keeping his gun leveled. They were gone.
Allyson stood too, mimicking Sean’s position. “Where did they go?”
Through the ghostlike smoke, Sean noticed the doors at the front of the sanctuary.
They sprinted toward the exit, stopping short to risk a peek in a small square window at the top of the thick wood. Through the opening, Wyatt could see a small ante-chamber on the other side. There was a short bench, a water fountain, a flowery-upholstered couch, and two legs with black shoes sticking out from around a corner.
Sean pushed open the door, leading the way with his gun. He rounded the corner of the small room and found the sexton lying on the floor. The chest of the man’s white button-up shirt was beginning to soak with blood. Just beyond where he lay, the short hall ended abruptly with two more doors leading outside into the parking lot.
Joe took a knee next to Sean who was crouching over the old man. Allyson ran over to the outer doors, holding her weapon next to her face while she peeked out the window.
“You…must not…let them find the chamber,” the sexton gasped.
“Just hang on there, old timer,” Joe replied. “You’re gonna be just fine.”
Allyson was grabbing her cell phone to call 9-1-1.
The old man kept talking, “We have kept the secret long enough.” His body wracked with a cough and a small trickle of blood seeped from the corner of this mouth. “They are too close now. You must…go to where the raven and the dove meet. Do not…let them succeed.”
Allyson was talking on her cell. “Yeah, we have a man with a gunshot wound at the Beacon Tabernacle Church. Send an ambulance right away. He’s in the front of the building in a room off near the stage entrance. Address? I don’t know the address. Just hurry.” She ended her call and rejoined the group.
“Where the raven and the dove meet,” the old man continued. “That is where you will find it. The first chamber…it…” his eyes became wide with fear and he gripped Sean‘s arms tightly. “You must not allow them to find the next stone.”
“But where is it? Where is the stone?”
“The raven… and the dove face each other. Let their stones guide you…they meet in the middle. The altar…you must find the…key. Climb the stairs…of heaven.”
With that, the man’s head went limp and his eyes closed. Joe laid the gray head down gently on the floor. “Poor old guy.”
“He’s not dead,” Sean pointed at the bony chest, slowly rising and falling. “Just unconscious. There’s nothing we can do for him now. Cops should be here soon. If we don’t get out of here now, we may never catch those guys.”
“We can’t just leave him here, Sean.”
“Allyson called an ambulance. They will arrive any minute. If the police get here before we’re gone, we will get arrested and have no chance of saving Tommy.”
Joe seemed to consider it for a second.
“Look, Mac. You heard what the man said. He wants us to find the chamber. We have to go.”
Nodding, Sean’s friend stood up, a look of resolve on his face. “Let’s go get ‘em then.”
“Right.”
The two men darted to the door with Allyson right behind. Sean eased open the heavy portal carefully. The asphalt was empty except for the beat up Silverado and what they assumed to be the sexton’s car.
Once again, the men who’d abducted Tommy had slipped through their fingers.
“Got any idea where they went?” Allyson asked as she put away her gun.
“Yeah, I do now.”
Chapter 49
A handful of afternoon guests sat busily on the veranda of the palatial mansion. They chatted about business investments, the economy, and the various properties they had acquired or sold in recent weeks.
Hardly a hot dog and beer crowd, most sipped on rare scotch, top-shelf vodka, and well-aged whiskey. Smoke from a few cigars wisped around, spiraling up and into the open air of dusk.
The host of the party stood near the outdoor bar sipping on a glass of 12-year Jameson Irish Whisky. It wasn’t the most expensive of drinks, but it was by far his favorite. Smooth and warm, it was his regular drink of choice.
He had been conversing with his colleagues about the various aforementioned topics, but something was keeping him on edge. In fact, he’d probably had a few drinks too many, and the one in his hand wasn’t going down slowly either.
It had been a few hours since he had heard anything from his contacts and the anticipation was driving him mad.
For ten years he had searched for something that would help him find the trail to the golden chambers. A decade of frustration and disappointment had almost caused him to give up hope.
Then, from the ashes rose the most random of opportunities. An archaeologist in Georgia discovered the first stone, the beginning of the trail leading to the golden chambers.
He’d met with the man several weeks before and discussed a financial proposal so he could purchase the piece. Thomas Schultz had hardly been accommodating. Whether it was foolish pride or haughty defiance, he had been unwilling to part with the object.
The man had made a second offer, an astounding amount of money even for someone with the means of wealth that Schultz possessed, and still, the proposal was denied.
So he left Schultz’s office empty handed and angry. He had worked too hard and spent too much time and capital to be denied by some insolent archaeologist.
Indeed, Schultz probably did not even realize the entire story behind the golden chambers. There were only a few on the planet that knew the beginning part of the legend. But the end, that was what the old man was truly interested in. The gold itself was but a small portion of the true reward that waited at the end.
Most of his guests didn’t even notice him slip away when the cell phone in his smoking jacket began to ring.
“Hello?”
“Ulrich is out of control, sir. He is leaving a blood trail in his wake, and I fear his recklessness is drawing too much attention. I recommend you let us intervene.” The voice of the woman on the other end was concise and direct.