A Treasure Deep (32 page)

“This is different.” She leaned over the
picture. Instead of putting down lines on the paper as he had
always done in the past, Joseph covered the drawing area with the
thick, waxy crayon—black. Then he carefully etched a line in the
soft material, allowing the off-white paper to bleed through. It
was an image drawn in reverse; etched instead of drawn.

“Let me see your hands,” Claire said,
reaching down to Joseph’s lap and pulling his palms up. She turned
his hands to look at his fingernails. As expected, his nails were
caked with black crayon. She released his hands, and he slowly
lowered them back to his lap.

Peering even more closely at the artwork,
Claire made out a silhouette image against the black backdrop,
outlined by a thin line carved out by Joseph. It took a few moments
for her to grasp that it was the outline of a man. The man appeared
to be on his knees, body hunched over his legs, his hands covering
his face.

“What does this mean?” she asked, resigned in
the knowledge that no answer would be forthcoming. She studied the
image and decided that the man was shocked or overcome with sorrow.
She couldn’t be sure since his hands covered his face, but the body
position seemed to indicate sadness. Or fear.

Claire sighed and set the picture down. All
these years Joseph had been drawing animals and such. Now this. The
darkness of the picture troubled her. Maybe Joseph did sense some
danger, and this was his way of expressing it.

“I love you,” she said softly. She kissed him
on top of the head, then walked back to her chair, sat down, and
waited for the next indignity from her captors.

“I CAN’T MAKE it out,” Rutherford said to Julia. She
approached his desk and peered at the monitor.

“Can you zoom in more?” she asked.

“I tried that, but it didn’t help.” He tapped
a key on his keyboard. The video image tightened on the drawing the
Henri boy had drawn.

“It’s just a big black blob,” Julia
remarked.

“No, it’s more than that. There’s an image;
it’s just too faint for the camera to pick up.” He closed his
mouth, focused his attention, and then successfully swallowed the
saliva buildup. One more victory. “I want to see that drawing.”

“You want me to go down and get it?”

“Yes. You are to be their only contact. The
more people they see, the greater the danger to us.” Julia started
to walk away. “Wait. I want you to take this to young Mr. Henri.”
He keyed a few buttons, and the printer came to life, spitting out
a white piece of paper with a series of dark smudges on it.

“What’s this?”

“My DNA profile.”

“What? Why do you want me to give this to
him?” Julia said, furrowing her brow.

“Just do it.”

She started to leave when Rutherford’s
private line rang. Only two people had access to that number: Julia
and Alex. A keystroke later the phone came to life.

“Yes,” was all Rutherford said.

“I’ve arrived back in Tejon,” Alex said. That
pleased Rutherford.

“Very well. Enjoy your stay.”

“I will,” Alex replied.

Rutherford hung up.

“I’M HOPING YOU’RE right,” Perry said to Jack as the
two looked down the sinkhole. The harsh shadows cast by the work
lights gave Perry the impression he was standing on the moon,
except this moon had grass and a stiff breeze. “If this is an
unnatural event, then there must be a bottom to it. Who knows how
deep a natural sinkhole would have gone?”

“I’ve seen pictures of some that are huge,”
Jack replied.

Perry studied the fallen backhoe, which lay
on its right side like a weary dinosaur. “You sent the men?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “Two of them. They’re on
their way to Bakersfield to pick up the trackhoe. They’ll truck it
here within the next two hours. It’s a good thing I staged more
equipment there.”

Perry recalled Jack telling him he had done
that when they were on the helicopter. “Great. We need the bigger
machine. When they get back, let’s off-load the truck as quickly as
we can. Gleason and Curtis are overseeing the transportation of the
coffins. Curtis wants to ride with them all the way to the
Bakersfield airport. Gleason will drive. I’m sending a follow-up
vehicle with them. I want you to choose three men you can trust.
Dr. Curtis has arranged for two of the Romans to go to one
university, two more to another on the East Coast. He’s decided
that Roman number five and Site Six will go to his university.”

“Will do. I assume he has people taking
possession as soon as they land?”

“Yes. They’ll begin work as soon as
possible.” Perry turned, faced the oak grove, and spent a moment
watching Gleason and Curtis supervising two workmen and Brent as
they checked and reinforced the crating.

“I don’t think we should try and load the
crates onto the flatbed up here. It’s a sturdy truck, but I think
it might have a problem with the slope. Maybe we should run a
round-robin with the Explorers. Their four-wheel drive is better
suited for the terrain. We can run two Explorers in tandem and have
the whole thing done in short order.”

“Good idea. Go with that.” Perry looked back
at the downed backhoe. “Do you think we can bring it up?”

“Setting it upright is going to be the hard
part,” Jack said after a moment’s thought. “Once it’s back on its
wheels, we can tow it back to the top of grade. We could call for a
heavy-duty tow truck, the kind used to haul big rigs and motor
homes. Or . . .”

“Or use the dozer,” Perry said.

“That’s what I was thinking. We bring the
dozer up here, connect it to the backhoe with chains, set it on its
wheels, then tow it out of the hole.”

“Think you can still drive one of those
beasts?” Perry asked with a knowing smile.

“I was driving dozers before I could ride a
bike.”

Perry laughed. “Well, that would explain the
damage to your neighborhood. Let’s wait to bring the dozer up until
Dr. Curtis is well off-site. Seeing a bulldozer driving over an
archeological dig just might make his heart seize, and he’s had
enough shocks already.”

“Agreed,” Jack said then asked, “Do you think
he believes what his eyes see?”

“I don’t believe what my eyes see,” Perry
answered. “It’s beyond belief. Everything we’ve found goes against
all that we’ve been taught, but then we expected that, didn’t
we?”

“That we did. Mystery makes life
interesting.”

“Let’s make the most of our time. Since we
have to wait for the other backhoe, let’s use the time to weld a
few tow loops to the backhoe. It will make it easier to make
connections. I also think we need to finish cutting off the rest of
the canopy. Since we cut two of the four supports away to get Lenny
out, the canopy is going to flap around, and those cuts I made with
the plasma torch are a little on the sharp side.”

“I’ll get the equipment then head down the
hole. You can hold the rope.”

“Nothing doing, partner. This job is mine.
Get a couple of guys up here to help, and you can join me.”

“You’re getting greedy in your old age,” Jack
said, “but I guess I can live with it.”

“I hope we both can live with it.”

THE SIGHT WAS unexpected and surprising enough to
make Alex stop mid-step. He last saw the work site the night he
broke Dawes’s neck and dropped him in the hole. Now there were more
holes, several like the first and one that looked as if it had been
hollowed out by a bomb blast. They’ve been busy, Alex thought.

He stood near the same set of trees that
Dawes had used for cover while spying on the dig. Getting to that
point had been more difficult than the last time. Since sheriff’s
deputies cordoned off access to the site, he had to go out of his
way to avoid them. That meant driving his rented car—a car he
obtained under a false name and with a bogus credit card—several
miles past the site, parking, then spending the next hour walking
across the pasture land of the adjoining property. Hiking through
the tall grass on uneven terrain slowed his progress, as did the
delicate act of slipping between strands of barbed wire. An ivory
gibbous moon aided him, though.

The sound of a straining diesel engine
punctuated the otherwise quiet night. Before him lay the grassy
slope that so interested his employer. More specifically, he
thought, what lay beneath the serene ground.

Alex stood a football field’s distance away
and watched as a bulldozer slowly pulled back from the craterous
hole. It was towing something. He watched with interest as a yellow
backhoe slowly materialized out of the depths, rolling up the
depression’s steep side on its wheels. It crested the rim then
moved freely away.

He watched patiently. Of the four men he
could see on the site, two left a few minutes later, walking down
the slope. Alex assumed they’d been sent to retrieve something, or
maybe they’d been given the rest of the evening off. In any case,
only Perry Sachs and a large black man were left. Those were good
odds, he decided.

Alex would’ve loved to hear how a backhoe got
to the bottom of that huge hole, but he had other things to do at
present. It was time for a conversation with Mr. Sachs.

Alex started forward.

“THAT WORKED BETTER than I thought it would,” Jack
said as he stepped down from the large bulldozer.

“We could use a few things to go our way,”
Perry replied as he walked around the digging machine. “Tires are
still inflated. Good. I was afraid they would have pushed off the
rim when it tipped. I guess the soft soil helped us on that
one.”

Jack began fiddling with the engine.
“Everything looks in place. Fuel lines are still connected. Just a
little dirt here and there, and some oil and fuel that leaked from
the tank. Shouldn’t take long to clean up. I’ll bet your next
paycheck that it’ll kick over first time.”

“My paycheck? Bet your own money, pal.”

“Where’s the wisdom in that? I could lose
money. It’s safer to risk your assets.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that . . .”
Perry trailed off.

A man was approaching, apparently coming from
out of nowhere. He wore slacks and a polo shirt. A little too
dapper for this area, Perry decided. The man walked with
confidence, as if he were expected. “We have company.” He motioned
toward the approaching man.

“I wondered when that would happen,” Jack
said. “Sooner or later someone would find a way past the security.
Think he’s a reporter?”

“Could be,” Perry said. “He has that city
look.”

The two waited for the unexpected guest to
make his way

to them.

“Perry Sachs?” the man asked. It was the kind
of question a man asked when he already knew the answer.

“That’s me,” Perry said. “I don’t wish to be
rude, but you’re trespassing on private property. I’m going to have
to ask you to leave.”

The man laughed lightly. “I leave when I’m
ready, Sachs.”

“Is that a fact?” Jack asked and took one
step forward.

“Yes, it is, big man, and I wouldn’t take
another step if I were you.” There was menace in his voice. “While
I would enjoy a little tussle with you, this isn’t the time, nor is
it the reason why I’m here.” Clearly, he didn’t intimidate
easily.

“Are you a reporter?” Perry asked.

“No need to be insulting, Sachs. And don’t
bother asking for a name. You don’t need it, and I won’t give
it.”

“I think it’s time for you to talk to one of
the deputies,” Jack said. He stepped forward and seized the man’s
left arm in his right hand. It took a second for Perry to realize
what he had seen. In a blurred motion, the trespasser brought his
open right hand up, impacting Jack on the tip of his chin. Jack’s
head snapped back from the force of it. Perry could hear his
friend’s teeth clash. Then Perry saw something he never believed
possible. Jack crumpled like a blanket and dropped to the
ground.

Instinctively, Perry charged but made only
one step before finding himself staggering backwards, doubled over,
his hands clutching his stomach where he’d just been kicked by a
foot he never saw coming. The air rushed from his lungs, and his
solar plexus went into spasms. He dropped to his knees and
struggled for breath. For a moment, he thought he would never
breathe again. Pain circled his body. Lights flashed in his
eyes.

Perry forced himself to look up while willing
himself to breathe. The breath would come in time, but time seemed
to have stopped. He stared into the emotionless face of his
attacker. He watched as the attacker pulled a folded piece of paper
from his pocket, opened it, leaned over, and displayed it with the
pride a father might show toward a child’s drawing. “Look familiar?
Know these people?”

The paper held the image of Claire and
Joseph. Joseph was situated at what looked like a laboratory
workbench. Claire was standing next to him. “Claire . . . ,” Perry
whispered. A whisper was all he could muster. “Joseph . . .”

“Very good, Mr. Sachs. You’re absolutely
right.” The intruder straightened himself. “They have the privilege
of being our guests. For the moment they are in good health.”
Picking up the paper, the visitor folded it neatly and slipped it
into his front pants pocket.

“What do you want?” Perry finally
managed.

“Here’s the drill, Sachs. Listen carefully
because this is no game. You’re out of your league; I can promise
you that. Despite the fact that you’ve interfered with our work,
we’ve decided not to view you as an enemy, but as a fellow worker.
We know what you’re after, and we want it. You’re going to get it
for us.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” the man barked. “You’re
going to do everything I say, and you are not going to deviate from
it in the slightest. If you do, your friends will die in . . . oh,
let’s call it a creative way.”