The Belial Library (The Belial Series) (2 page)

Sebastian had to admit that the woman had shown incredible fortitude and intelligence.  He’d always thought there was more to that story than had been publicly revealed, more, in fact, in line with his own quest. 

And now she was in Ecuador.  That couldn't be a coincidence.

Sebastian flipped through the report.  The grant would begin three months from now.  Maybe these archaeologists were the key to finally fulfilling his family’s legacy.

"There’s one other development you should be aware of, sir."

Sebastian glanced over his glasses, gesturing for Gerard to continue. 

"Grevigan, the oil company, is renewing its campaign to get the Ecuadorian government to sell parts of the Amazon rain forest for oil refining.  One of the areas they’re interested in incorporates the Shuar land."

Sebastian sat back in his chair, stroking his chin.  This development wasn’t entirely unexpected. Oil companies had been trying to move into the rain forest for the last decade, but the indigenous people of the region had managed to block them at every turn.  "Is there any reason to believe Grevigan will have any more luck this time?"

Gerard nodded.  "They've retained new counsel, who are known for accomplishing the impossible.  They’re not above bribing judges to do so."

Sebastian nodded.  He approved of the mindset: focused on achieving the goal no matter who or what got in the way.  But in this case, it ran counter to his own plans.  He couldn't have the oil companies destroying what he sought.  He knew their methods would do just that.  Or worse, they could stumble over the find and keep it for themselves.  Neither option was acceptable.

He let out a breath.  "Put the contingency plan into play.  As soon as it becomes necessary, initiate it."

"Yes, sir."

Sebastian placed the report aside.  “How’s our guest behaving today?”

“Still unhelpful.”

Sebastian nodded.  It had been a week, and still nothing.  “That will be all.”

Gerard gave a respectful bow before backing out of the room.  Sebastian pushed away from the desk, reaching for his cane.  Slowly, he made his way out of the office and down the hall. 

He reached the stairs to the basement and paused to take a breath.  He should have installed an elevator, but vanity had kept him from doing so.  He shook his head, steeling himself for the descent. 

He grasped the rail and slowly made his way down.  Reaching the bottom, he paused again, his legs beginning to shake.  He waited, knowing from experience that, shortly, the trembling would cease. 

A minute later, pushing himself from the wall, he walked around the corner, heading for the lone door on the right-hand side of the hall.  One man stood guard at its entrance.  The guard opened the door for Sebastian as he drew near. 

Screams assaulted Sebastian’s ears: proof once again of the wisdom of adding the soundproofing. 

Two guards nodded at him as he entered, but quickly returned their eyes to the captive across the room.  Sebastian approved.  With this enemy, no matter what state he might be in, vigilance was life and death. 

He waved his hand in front of his face, trying to push away the smell of burnt flesh and rank body odor.  But the repugnant smells crawled through his nose, stinging his throat.  He struggled not to gag.

Across the room, a man was strapped to a metal cross, his frame gaunt, his body held up only by the binds that lashed him.  An unkempt beard covered his face and he wore only shredded jeans.  But he had no noticeable injuries.  His skin was unmarked.

Sebastian took in the state of the prisoner with a mere flick of his eyes, his attention directed instead on the man standing in front of the captive.  At six-foot-five, with overly-developed muscles, the man was a testament to pharmaceutical companies abilities to develop a better body.  Not that Sebastian cared.  What the man did with his own body was his business, so long as it never got in the way of his missions.

The behemoth’s hair was cut tight to his head.  A jagged scar wound its way from the corner of his left eye to the edge of his mouth.  His grey t-shirt was stained with sweat and blood. 

"Hugo, how's it going?"  Sebastian asked.

Hugo Barton turned with a smile, his wide face looking even wider.  "He's not cooperating."

Sebastian sighed with a nod.  The prisoner stared insolently back at him. 

Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was stubbornness or a compete lack of knowledge that made the man unforthcoming.  It was time to find out.  He waved Hugo back and walked up to the prisoner.  "Look at me."

The man met his gaze with hostility, but didn’t speak.  Sebastian gestured to Hugo, who took a machete and jammed it into the man’s stomach.  A scream tore out of the man’s chest.

Hugo yanked the knife out, leaving a gaping hole. 

“Can you all read the books?”  Sebastian asked.

The man’s eyes were wild with pain. 

Sebastian nodded at Hugo.

Hugo stepped forward.  “You were asked a question.  Can you all read the books?”

Hugo took a serrated knife off the table next to him, plunging it into the man’s side and dragging it towards the front, leaving a gaping trail.

The man screamed again.  “No.”

Sebastian put a hand on Hugo, who immediately stepped back.  Sebastian stepped closer.  “No?  You can’t read the books?”

The man shook his head.  “No.  We can’t.”

Sebastian turned his back to the man, his shoulders dropping.  Damn.  This had all been a waste of time.  He needed to find another avenue.

“Sir,” Hugo called after him, “what should I do with this one?”

Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder.  The bound man’s wounds were already beginning to heal. "He’s of no use to us.  Get rid of him."

CHAPTER 2

Present Day

Cuenca, Ecuador

Delaney McPhearson sank down to the cool, concrete floor of hallway outside the vaults of the Central Bank of Ecuador.  She rubbed the crick in her neck that had appeared hours ago and only gotten worse. 

Her feet were no better.  Days of standing had left them aching.  She shook them out, trying to work out the kinks.  In spite of the discomfort, she felt a sense of contentment as she stared at the wonders of the Crespi Collection front of her. 

Through the doorway of the bank vault, a three-foot statue of a golden man with four arms and four toes on each leg grinned at her from a metal shelf.  Next to him lay half of a golden sphere that was two feet wide and had a three-inch lip covered in unknown symbols.  On the shelf below sat a sheet of gold depicting a pyramid with snakes writhing in the sky and elephants on the ground. 

The depictions of elephants alone should convince the skeptics of the ancient nature of the artifacts.  Elephants had once existed in South America, but the last known elephant-like creature, the cuvieronius, had been extinct since 10,000 BC.  The dawn of the last ice age had been the death knell for the entire species.  That meant the artifacts in all likelihood dated from before that time period. 

She sighed.  If only there’d been enough carbon in the metal to date, all the skeptics could be silenced.

Laney took a sip of water, glancing around at the rest of the vault, filled to the brim with gold, silver, and other metal artifacts.  She scooted a little to her right, allowing her a view of one of her favorite relics: sheets of gold covered in an undecipherable script.  Some argued the artifact was final proof that the Incans had indeed had a written language, but others argued the language predated the Incans by hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

Together, the artifacts, which filled four vaults, were known as the Crespi collection:  objects amassed over decades by a Roman Catholic priest in the mountains of Ecuador. 

The collection had been moved to the Central Bank of Ecuador in the early 1980s after a fire had destroyed the original location and over half the treasure.  The source of the artifacts remained unknown, but whoever the civilization had been, they’d been advanced.  Highly advanced. 

Laney took another sip of water, unable to believe how lucky she was to be part of this project.

“I see you’re taking a break in your usual spot.”  Jen Witt smiled as she walked out of the vault two doors down.   

Laney returned the smile, knowing Jen was the reason that she was here.  When they'd met back in graduate school, Laney had been intimidated by her. Standing six feet tall, with a Korean - American heritage, and an athletic build, Jen was stunning. She was also brilliant, compassionate, and committed to unearthing ancient civilizations that pre-dated known history. 

Jen had contacted Laney almost nine months before about joining the expedition to Ecuador.  Needing a change and some research for her dissertation, she’d leaped at the opportunity.

They were dressed almost identically: khaki shorts, tank tops, and hiking boots.  In fact, since she'd arrived, that had been the entirety of Laney’s wardrobe. 

But their clothing was the only thing similar about their appearance.  Laney was Jen's physical opposite in every way.  Standing just under five-foot-four, with skin so pale it was practically translucent, a riot of red hair, and green eyes, she felt extremely average compared to Jen’s more exotic looks.  Luckily, Jen seemed completely oblivious to her beauty, so Laney didn't have to hate her.

Laney gestured at the gold sheets.  “You can’t beat this view.  I still can’t believe Crespi gathered all of this without any effort.  It’s amazing.”

Jen slid down the tiled wall to sit next to her.  “Well, the Shuar’s thought the artifacts were fitting tributes for the priest who helped them.  Still, it does boggle the mind.”

Laney nodded, amazed even more now by the story as she stared at the unbelievable relics in front of her. Father Carlo Crespi had been assigned to Cuenca, Ecuador back in 1923.  The indigenous people of the area, particularly the Shuar tribe, grew incredibly fond of him.  In return for his kindness, they began bringing him artifacts, although they never revealed the source of their gifts.  By the time of his death in 1982, he’d amassed the largest collection of metal artifacts in all of Ecuador.

But the people who’d provided him with the treasure had never revealed its source.  The tales of the unknown source grew, though, especially the tales of the metal library.  It was an incredible collection of books alleged to hold the knowledge of the ancients.

Giggles from down the hall broke into Laney’s thoughts.  An eight-year old girl, her dark brown pigtails and the skirt of her pale blue dress flying behind her, sprinted towards them.  Hector the bank guard ran behind her, his large stomach and jowls jiggling, his face an unnatural shade of red. 

Elena Nunink glanced over her shoulder with an infectious laugh, keeping just out of the poor man’s reach.  She stopped with a giggle next to Laney.  “Lunch time?” she asked in flawless Spanish

Laney laughed, then tried to wipe the smile from her face as Hector reached them. 

With one arm propped against the wall, he struggled to catch his breath.  “Last warning, Elena.  No running.  Next time, I’ll have to ban you from the bank.”

The grin dropped from the little girl’s face, her dark eyes now serious.  She wrapped her arms around his knees.  “Oh no, Hector.  Please don’t do that.”

He patted her on the shoulder and winked at Laney.  “Just no more running, okay?”

“Okay.  No more running.” 

With a wave at Laney and Jen, he headed slowly back to the stairs.  That was probably the most exercise he'd had in years.

Laney opened her arms to Elena, and she leaped into them.  This time, Laney didn’t hold back the laugh.  No one had more joy for life than Elena.  It was contagious.  “So, little queen, what have you been up to today?”  Laney asked in Spanish.

“I helped Nana with her vegetables.  She made a basket for you.  She said to pick it up when you come to dinner.” 

Elena was in town for a doctor’s visit.  Laney and Jen had agreed to bring her back to her village tonight.  Elena’s Nana was the unofficial leader of the Shuar tribe.  Technically, the Shuar were egalitarian, but Nana, more times than not, spoke on the tribe’s behalf in legal and public matters.

The Shuar had been around since before the Conquistadors, and, if the rumors were true, even back to the ice age.  They had a small village a few miles outside of town.  They were reputed to be the people who knew where the Crespi collection originated. 

Laney and Jen had first met Elena and her Nana due to the village’s connection to the Crespi artifacts.  But now, there was genuine affection there.  Laney still hoped they would help illuminate the origins of the collection, but even if they didn’t, their kindness and joy had been a soothing balm these last few months.

Laney pushed Elena's bangs out of her eyes.  "What does Nana want to speak with us about?"

Elena's face became serious.  "I think Nana's worried."

Laney exchanged a look with Jen.  Kids tended to pick up and share everything.  If Elena said her Nana was worried, it was probably true. 

"Do you know why?"  Jen asked.

Elena shook her head.  "No.  But Manuel came yesterday."