The Emerald Scepter

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Cait lay on her back on the old cast-iron bed. Her wrists and ankles were tied to the frame even though she was in a deep drug-induced sleep. There was a faint sheen of sweat on her upper lip. Her breathing was shallow.

Marzak sat in a wooden chair next to the bed studying Cait’s finely-sculpted features. At one point, he leaned forward and lifted her head, brought a glass to her mouth and gently poured a trickle of water past her parched lips. His tender gesture had nothing to do with sympathy. It was like watering a plant. The drug in Cait’s system could cause dehydration and he didn’t want her kidneys to shut down. Cait was no use to him as dead bait.

He had passed what appeared to be an abandoned cottage while he was tailing her. The property was only a few miles from the turn-off leading to the Kurtz yacht, and he had returned there with his prize after knocking her out.

The cottage was indeed abandoned, though some furniture remained, and its remote wooded location was exactly what Marzak wanted. He had lifted Cait’s limp form from the trunk of his car and carried her into the bedroom. As she lay on the musty-smelling mattress, Marzak administered an antidote to restore her to consciousness. She gurgled like a baby and her eyes snapped open.

If she had not been on drugs, she would have screamed in terror at the sight of the killer at her bedside. But the drug had a calming, truth serum effect.

Marzak looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him. He seemed friendly, helping her to sit up and plumping a thin pillow for her neck.

“My shoulder hurts,” she said, unaware that Marzak had used a Taser on her.

“The pain will go away soon. You’ll feel groggy for a minute, and your tongue will be thick.” He handed her a plastic water bottle. “It’s important that you drink.”

She glugged the water down in almost a single gulp and handed him the empty bottle. “More please.”

“After you answer a few questions. Do you remember Hawkins?”

A dreamy smile came to her face. “Oh yes.”

“When did you see him last?”

She struggled to recall. “We were flying from Afghanistan with some of his friends. They were very nice.” Her voice was slurred.

“Why were you with Hawkins in Afghanistan?”

“Seems so long ago.” She furrowed her brow. “I was looking for the Prester John treasure, and so was he. We met by accident at an ancient caravan stop.”

“Did you find the treasure?”

“It was gone. Kurtz took it.”

“Who is Kurtz?”

“An old explorer. He led an expedition to find the treasure. Moved it out of the cave years ago.”

Marzak gave her another bottle of water and while she drank he pondered the answer. Interesting. So Hawkins didn’t find the treasure after all.

“Why were you at the boat?”

“It was the Kurtz yacht. I’m writing a book. I wanted to see the vessel that may have carried the treasure back to the United States.”

Marzak’s pulse quickened. He leaned forward. “The treasure is in the U.S.? Where?”

The abrupt movement and change of voice stirred a faint eddy of fear in Cait’s memory. Her instincts told her there was reason to be afraid of this man.

“I don’t know,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Where is Hawkins now?”

“In Colorado.”

“Is that where the treasure is? I must tell you that I will kill you if you say you don’t know again.”

She nodded. “He thinks Kurtz took the treasure there and hid it in a mine.”

“Have you heard from Hawkins since you parted?”

She shook her head and looked around as if she had lost something. “My phone.”

Marzak took a phone from his jacket pocket. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Yes,” she said with relief. “It has Matt’s number in it.”

“Would you like to call Matt to say hello?”

“Yes,” she said eagerly. She took the phone and looked up Hawkins’ number in the contact list and pressed the call button. When a voice answered at the other end, she smiled and said, “Matt. It’s me, Cait.”

Marzak reached forward and pressed the drug injector to her neck. There was a soft puff as the vapor entered her skin at high pressure. She blinked her eyes and frowned, then her head lolled and she slumped back onto the bed. Marzak took the phone from her limp fingers and brought it to his ear.

“Hello, Hawkins,” he purred.

The call came when the jet carrying the treasure east from Colorado was about an hour out from Washington.

Abby and Sutherland were stretched out asleep in their own rows near the front of the cabin. Hawkins and Calvin were at the rear of the cabin hashing out a strategy to find Marzak before he could set off the Prophet’s Necklace.

He couldn’t believe it when he answered the phone. It was Marzak. And he had Cait.

Keeping his voice as neutral as possible, he said, “Hello, Marzak. Thought you were still back in Afghanistan.”

“I arrived in the United States not long after you, and immediately arranged a reunion with Dr. Everson.”

“I want to talk to her,” Hawkins said.

“Not possible. She’s under the influence of a potent drug and will be asleep for another few hours.”

Calvin was looking at Hawkins with a curious expression on his face. Hawkins put his finger to his lips and pressed the speaker phone button.

“What do you want, Marzak?”

“You’re very impatient, Hawkins.”

“Why waste time on the small talk? Let’s cut to the chase.”

“I agree. Dr. Everson told me the treasure wasn’t in Afghanistan.”

“We struck out, sad to say.”

“Don’t play games, Hawkins. She told me about Kurtz bringing the treasure back to Colorado. You have it.”

“Only part of it,” Hawkins said. “The Prester John scepter. I’m looking at it now.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Hang up and I’ll send you proof.”

“Make it fast. Dr. Everson’s vital organs will shut down if I don’t administer an antidote.”

Hawkins severed the connection. “You heard him. We’ll have to do some fancy footwork if we’re going to get Cait out of this alive.”

“He’ll kill her and try to kill you no matter what we do,” Calvin said.

“That’s why we need to stall and control the situation as much as possible. He’s using Cait to lure me in.”

Calvin’s lips tightened in a grim smile. “And we were worried we wouldn’t be able to find him.”

“I never expected Cait to be in the middle, but he’s not the only one who knows how to set a hook.” He handed his phone to Calvin and opened the box on the seat next to him. He lifted out the scepter and held it up.

“Say cheese,” Calvin said. The phone’s camera flashed.

Hawkins sent the photo to Cait’s phone. Marzak wasted no time calling back.

“Congratulations, Hawkins. You have succeeded where I failed.”

“Dumb luck, Marzak. Here’s the deal. I give you the scepter. I get Cait. Alive.”

“You must think a lot of Dr. Everson to give up something worth millions.”

“It’s nothing to me. My mission was to find the treasure, not decide what to do with it. I’ll need time, though.”

“Make it fast. You’re not the only one who’s impatient.”

“True, but we are both realists. I’m in an airplane on my way from Colorado. We’re not due to land for another couple of hours. Pick a place for the exchange that’s not far from Washington.”

“I’ll call later with the location.”

Hawkins had no intention of improvising his plans last-minute.

“Uh-uh. Now or never.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line, then Marzak said, “We will meet in three hours at the old Kurtz yacht. It’s on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Come alone.”

He gave Hawkins directions.

“I’ll be there with the scepter,” Hawkins said.

Cait’s phone went dead.

Hawkins had a determined set to his prominent jaw. “You heard him. We’ve only got a few hours to put this thing together. Marzak will spend that time setting the trap with Cait as the cheese.”

“He’ll be a lot more careful than the last time we met him,” Calvin said.

Hawkins placed the scepter back into its box. “Yes, but this little bauble has a way of clouding a man’s mind. We can use Marzak’s scepter obsession against him. And he doesn’t know about our secret weapon.”

“That’s good, man.” Calvin wrinkled his nose. “Only I didn’t know we had one.”

Hawkins cocked his ear to the soft snores coming from the sleeping women. “Actually, we have two.”

The old yacht had so many possibilities for an ambush that Marzak had difficulty narrowing them down. As he walked onto the rotting hull he focused on two potentials. The strategic and the poetic.

He scouted the woods around the wreck but it was obvious that anyone trying to come that way would have to cross the marsh and hack his way through heavy undergrowth.

Carrying a leather satchel, he walked out onto a rickety pier. Hawkins and his friend were former navy SEALs and a water approach was not out of the question, but the soft muck of the mud flats bordering the shore cut down possible access. Anyone coming from the bay would have to use the dock.

He retraced his steps and found a loose plank around half way back. He pulled it up, armed a small but powerful mine and slipped it under the board. The weight of a footstep on or even near the board would depress the pressure plate and trigger the explosion.

He went back to the yacht and strolled through the dining room. A few feet from the bar he detected a sponge-softness to the deck. He pried up several planks. A miasma of rotting plants rose through the opening. He explored the bilge with a flashlight, then he removed several supporting boards and replaced the single layer of deck.

In his mind, he created the poetic scene that would greet Hawkins.

Hawkins would drive down the only road, park, and walk into the yacht. He would be armed, of course. Marzak would be surprised if he weren’t. Hawkins would approach the bar with scepter in hand and fall through the deck to his armpits. Marzak would pluck the scepter from his hands and proceed to kill him after they had a talk.

Sheer poetry.