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  The Quake

  The Secrets of Death Valley, Book 5

  Tom Hunter

  Copyright © 2019 by Tom Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  One

  Ramon’s polished boots clicked in staccato beats against the white marble flooring. Up here, the floor was marble. Below, it was simple gray concrete. He’d made the rounds of the villa and felt the cold, lifeless statues and artifacts which decorated the hallway, interspersed between the doors. People worked and lived in this place, but there was no life here. Not really. Alcoves and grand ballroom-like arenas were filled, he noticed, not with more grandeur, but with electronics. Every technology available covered tables and shelves; wall space was green screens, 4K TVs, traditional monitors and laptops, and glass touch screens not unlike a whiteboard except they didn’t require markers.

  The main house seemed to be set up not unlike the inside of a church. Ramon shook his head. Noah had amassed a fortune in high tech novelties and had taken no care to hide it from prying eyes.

  He’s making this too damn easy!

  There’s got to be something deeper at play here or is the little man startin’ to come unglued? he wondered. A sound brought him sharp; it was the nearly imperceptible sounds of his men – the click of a rifle to check for bullets, voices gathered together, the buzz of drones and scopes on said rifles – an odd soundtrack to his search.

  He walked toward the main control room, the buzz of electronics pulling him like a magnet. With one last glance toward his swiftly established light patrol, he satisfied himself with the majority of them utilizing their brief respite to simply keep watch from the villa to make sure they steered clear of Thomas Knight and his team.

  Scanning the room for infiltration points, he didn’t hear anyone else in the room until her voice was upon him.

  “Ramon?” a silken voice edged with suspicion and steel called out to him. He stopped and his blood ran cold. Anywhere else, anyone else, and he’d have used force, but he’d been on the wrong end of her stick once before. He wouldn’t do it again. Ramon turned slowly toward the front of the room, and through gritted teeth he greeted her.

  “Ms. Welker.” Cold, dark eyes met hers. His voice was low and dangerous.

  She looked at him coolly and assessed the muscled mercenary before her. Too big for his britches, she’d thought more than once. Ms. Welker’s eyes narrowed. She had expected a cold greeting, but what transpired shook her slightly. When he turned toward her, she could have sworn he clicked his heels together in a mock salute. Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind.

  Keeping her voice even, Ms. Welker asked. “What are you looking for?”

  He stiffened slightly. He’d thought better of his initial response and bounced looks at several corners of the room before answering. “Looking around,” he answered noncommittally, gauging her reaction. When her eyes narrowed into thin slits and her chin pointed downward at an angle, he added, “Making sure the defenses are intact.”

  As the two squared off, Ms. Welker took a step forward. She pulled herself to her full 5’4” height, and with hands on her hips, let fly a string of expletives in a language Ramon didn’t recognize. He arched one eyebrow. “In English or Portuguese, please,” he requested, and in essence waving a red cape at a bull.

  With a slight twist of her head, she caught him sharp with a gaze he hadn’t seen since his last mission. The one before Noah had first come to him with a business proposition. In a reversal he wasn’t expecting, Ms. Welker giggled.

  “You know, Ramon,” she began, rolling the r with extra emphasis. “It was a sweet save from the authorities and Thomas Knight back there, don’t you think?” she leaned back against a table and began studying her nails. “I mean, we could have just left you there. I am sure you would have figured a way out…somehow.” Ms. Welker paused to let the reminder sink in. “So, what makes you think we wouldn’t have that kind of power here on Noah’s turf? His home ground. I mean – ” she buffed he fingertips with the edge of a sleeve, and dropped the hammer. “Wouldn’t we also have the power to, uh, correct any mistakes in judgement?” She let an inferred “like you” hang in the air, suspended in the already thick web between them.

  He chortled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you really threatening me in a room filled with my own men?” he asked, the steel in his voice measured against her looming threat.

  Black leather shoulders touched her ears in an exaggerated shrug. “It’s only a threat if you feel threatened.” She moved toward him and lowered her voice. “But mark my words. I will do whatever needs doing to protect Noah.” The hard edges of her soft voice gave way to the resolve in her dark eyes. He met her there, and in that look, brute force met immovable object.

  Ms. Welker cut away from him first and turned on her heel. At the door, she paused, and turned to order he stay out of the studio unless authorized personnel – herself or Noah – were present. The threat of consequences hung obscenely from the room’s ramparts.

  When the door closed behind her, Ramon shook his head. “The damn dame’s got guts,” he mumbled. “I can see why he keeps her close. Silk and steel in that one.”

  He mulled over the conversation as he made his rounds of the villa. He hadn’t been lying completely, he rationalized. He did, after all, have to learn where all the defenses were. Something triggered his memory and he began to lay the plans for his coup. One…final…room to search…

  Pacing from one corner to the next and around the edges of the main room, the feeling he was missing something grew in his mind. There was something he was missing. He could feel it.

  Something caught his eye; a man clad in black with silver stripes at shoulder, and the glint of an AK-47 in the harsh fluorescent light. Ramon grabbed his lieutenant’s arm. “You.”

  “Sir?” Ramon was relieved to see it was one of his old guards. He’d never bothered to learn the man’s name, but they’d fought together plenty.

  Good, someone I can trust.

  Ramon’s face was a mask of stone. “Change of orders, soldier. Tell everyone to scrap our earlier plans. I have a new play in mind,” he ordered. This plan, he was sure, would be infallible.

  Two

  Like the top of an egg as yet unhatched, the dome loomed over the valley below. A single jeep was parked on the pathway leading to the grounds. At an observation deck-like railing, a solitary figure dressed in black and flush with the night raised night vision goggles to his eyes to survey the area. In between slivers of moonlight, flintlock sparks of light from assault rifles marked a more casual patrol than in the other camps in other locations.

  Thomas Knight waited for Alexia to finish and bring the drone home so she could make her report to the team.

  Hushed voices whispered questions of plans, voiced concerns, and stole furtive looks at one another. Anticipation and exhaustion coursed through their veins. Worry and doubt were no longer newly added cousins but par for the course for those who belonged to Thomas Knight’s team.

  Pediah Lapp and Abby Hogan huddled together, their voices tense. Alexia was fixated on the images the drone returned, and Mochni brooded in a corner with his legs bent and pressed up against his chest. Robbie Blake watched his friends and sighed imperceptibly. He wished he could go back to being the devil-may-care YouTube celebrity, but those days were long past. Thomas surveyed his team and that of the black-clad sole figure atop the dome, waiting for Alexia’s report.

  “So, what’s the plan?” asked Robbie. “You gonna catch Noah o
n the way out?”

  “Oh, he’ll get his…just desserts. Er, justice, I mean,” promised Thomas. “But our first priority is getting into – then out of – the villa compound safely, and, oh yeah, grabbing Ecknom’s Folly in the process.” He grinned. “Who’s up for a death-defying adventure that just might save millions of people?”

  The eyes which arced at Thomas, trying to make light of their situation, slid slowly over to the Woidnuk brooding. Mochni had lost so much already and cautious glances asked the question, what might he do next? And would he get not just himself, but all of them into trouble with his impulsive actions?

  Mochni unfolded his legs and started to stand up. His big head wobbled slowly from side to side as if he couldn’t believe they wouldn’t try to do something; some kind of revenge. They couldn’t expect him to not be angry. With one last parting look at Robbie, his blood brother, he hefted himself upward intent on walking away, and as he did so, Robbie held up a hand.

  “Wait, Mochni.” The Woidnuk stopped, angled his head toward Robbie’s voice, and waited. “We are sworn bleed brothers, are we not?” he asked, realizing he’d never bothered to correct Mochni – that it was ‘blood brothers’, not ‘bleed brothers’ – and shrugged the thought away, understanding it didn’t matter. The outcome was the same. Have each other’s back.

  Mochni nodded and blinked back tears. These were not Woidnuk, but they were like family. He swallowed, pivoted, and returned to join the others. “I am angry,” he explained. “But, I will not hurt – ” he stopped and shook his head. “I mean, I will not allow myself to wear my rage. I swear…” Mochni turned to Robbie for confirmation, who nodded. “I will not risk you, my friends, my family in risk of the mission to avenge my father and mother. If I am to lead, I must learn to be wise…and cautious.”

  He could talk the talk, but could he walk the walk? Thomas felt the boy’s sincerity and the concerns of the others. “Thank you, Mochni. I – we – are glad to hear that. It is important and shows great wisdom. We will need everyone’s help before this whole thing is over and put behind us.” He’d spoken to and for them all, but for the last he spoke directly to Mochni. “Your father would be proud.”

  The Woidnuk beamed a bittersweet smile and sighed softly.

  “Psst, Thomas!” hissed Alexia, the veins at her temples stretched taut below her skin. “Come look at this.”

  Thomas Knight’s eyes narrowed as he moved toward her. “What is it, Alexia?” he asked tiredly. He was beyond worried now. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen; he saw no point in dwelling on it.

  “This,” she explained, pointing to the screen of her laptop. Thomas bent down to get a better look and narrowed his eyes.

  “Is it…?” he began.

  “Yes, the drone’s picked it up,” she said excitedly. “I think we’ve hit the, er, jackpot so to speak.”

  “I’m not sure that is a prize we want, but…it gets us closer to the prize we need.” He slid his eyes toward her and saw an energy there, ready for anything. He knew that feeling, he’d had it once, too. She had a plan.

  “I believe an opportunity has presented itself,” Alexia crowed self-assuredly.

  “Let’s hear it, then!” shouted Robbie. The others watched in silence as Thomas and Alexia raised their heads in unison.

  Alexia twirled the computer to face the team and stood over it, pointing to the grainy specters and heat signatures captured by the eyes of her drone. “Keep your pants on, Robbie. I’ll explain.”

  “As you can see, radios are at the ready and every other soldier is speaking into one or nodding.” She glanced at Robbie. “There seems to be and urgency now to their communications. Something is going down and it’s going down now. Maybe they’re being given orders to shift posts or being told to clear the area for some reason…” She shrugged. “It could be as simple as a need to make way for the next wave of replacements.” Alexia paused and tilted her head over the laptop to get a better view. “But what makes me all tingly with excitement is that I don’t think it’s quite as simple as any of that. Look at ‘em.” And everyone watched as guards grabbed their weapons, hopped in their vehicles, and when she switched the camera view, they drove into what looked to the naked eye like one of the many hilltops which dotted the landscape. One minute the vehicles were there, the next minute they’d disappeared into the ether.

  “Yes, yes. We can see all that, Alexia. But what is the plan?” Robbie demanded to know. “You haven’t answered that question yet.”

  Alexia raised one eyebrow and smiled. “Well, Robert, I’d have thought it was obvious.” She paused expectantly. “No one? If they’re leaving…wouldn’t now be the best time for us to go in? If we don’t do it now, it might be several hours or longer before we get another chance,” she explained.

  A collective sigh escaped their lips, but before anyone could raise concerns, Thomas stepped in. “I agree, now is probably the best time.” He hesitated.

  I just have this awful feeling it’s some kind of setup. This is just too convenient. They know we’re on their heels, so they leave? Hmm… he fished his beard comb from his pocket and began to comb into a more dignified shape his well-trimmed beard.

  “Can you keep the drone on-target while we move into position?” he asked.

  “I can,” Alexia assured him. “However, I should warn you, Thomas, it will be difficult. I’ll have to watch the screen which may make it slow going at first. If I can’t walk, observe, and be mindful of the terrain at the same time, I mean.”

  Thomas nodded. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “I think it’s worth the risk.” He raked his eyes once more over the laptop image and added, “Just send it on ahead and keep an eye on it from time to time. Just in case, of course,” he advised.

  “Here we go!” crowed Robbie as the Thomas Knight and his team piled once more into their all-terrain vehicle. They were headed into the lion’s den. It didn’t really sink in until they were beneath the holographic camouflage, heading toward the villa in the distance. Though the sky provided adequate light, it was a brighter light which prevailed and guided their progress to Noah’s compound.

  Three

  The room Noah had chosen for his performance was slightly smaller than the others. Filming equipment and robotic cameramen stood sentry to their master’s work as Noah hoisted a green screen toward the center of the room. He centered it behind a large pewter pedestal intricately carved with hieroglyphs – it had been his grandfather’s and was one of the few items his father hadn’t gotten rid of when the old man had died. When he’d lifted its great burden and set it on the base, the pedestal had chimed as though it had been waiting for the drum it now bore. Ecknom’s Folly.

  He’d filmed other things in this room, but this by far would be the most intriguing, and probably the cleanest. All his other recordings were…messy.

  Straining to hook the now unrolled green canvas into its clip so that it stretched across the back wall, Noah heard the groan and hiss of a heavy steel door opening. His body tensed in anger and frustration at the disruption and he began to speak to the offender without turning around.

  “I left explicit instructions that I was not to be disturbed!” he snarled, his face reddening in anger. As he turned, he was startled to find Ms. Welker before him. He blinked rapidly.

  “Ah, it’s you. I – ”

  “I don’t think we can trust Ramon,” she blurted, interrupting him.

  Her combustive look of worry and anger flushed a deeper rose when Noah smiled. “Oh, I know,” Noah agreed.

  Ms. Welker raised her eyebrows in question and Noah continued. “I’m well aware of our Brazilian friend’s, uh, opportunity-grabbing power plays, his indiscretion in most things, and that the brute is ungrateful to the extreme.”

  “Then why on earth did you hire him in the first place?” she asked, her voice rising in surprise that Noah had brought such a snake into their midst. “There had to be safer options for guards for the facility,” Ms. Welker r
emarked, one hand curled into a fist at her side and the other splayed across a narrow hip.

  Noah shrugged. “His men were available immediately. We would have had to wait for someone else and that would have taken time. Time we don’t have. We had to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak. You see?” he remarked, the last statement not really a question. “Besides, Ramon and his crew lend a certain…authority…to our plans. Without them, our film wouldn’t have the desired effect,” Noah explained.

  Ms. Welker sputtered at this new information then shook off her confusion, and within seconds wore once more her iron mask of resolve and pragmatism. “I can see that and I agree,” she admitted. “However,” she held up a finger. “Please consider how much Ramon’s men outnumber us. We are only two against…how many?” she asked, not expecting an answer. She took a breath and leveled a fiery gaze at him. “That is what I am worried about. Survival is a numbers game in this business, Noah, and of all the teams on the field, we’ve the least in the way of numbers,” Noah’s classy assassin reminded him.

  Noah chortled and slowly shook his head. He moved closer to the pedestal. “My dear woman,” he admonished her, “we don’t need numbers for this battle. We have an ace-in-the-hole.” He slid his gaze to the drum. “We have Ecknom’s Folly. This means that we are safer than we could have ever hope to be. Ramon is a killer, true. He is dangerous, and though I hate to admit it, craftier than I gave him credit for. But still, he is no threat to us. Nor is anyone as long as we have the drum,” he reminded her calmly, a serene smile brooking any further argument.

  Ms. Welker appraised him. She’d have to use a different tactic. She had a bad feeling she couldn’t explain, but she had to get the man to do this in another part of the villa. “Why not the bomb shelter?” she suggested.

  “What about it?”