Destiny of Coins Page 5

  “Unless you become a good Catholic for the next fifteen minutes, or so.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Do I look like I’m in a playful mood?”

  “But I haven’t participated in any religious ceremony in sixteen hundred years!”

  “Cut the shit Pops—just do what he says!”

  Now my kid was the one hissing…at me. But to his credit, he was on his knees next to Amy, who seemed to have some prior expertise in that department. Yes, a jest in poor taste.

  “Just follow what I do, my brother, and we might pull this off,” said Roderick, sounding hopeful.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to participate in the religion of so many who say they believe in Christ, and yet as soon as they leave their sacred sanctuaries go back to being irreverent of the Almighty and assholes to one another,” I lamented, while sliding off the pew to join everyone else in a kneeling position. “I feel like I’m even more of a fraud to Him by doing this!”

  “On the contrary, I find this quite fitting for you,” teased Roderick. The intense sorrow overwhelming him just moments ago seemed to evaporate. “I know of no other person who obsesses over Jesus Christ like you do, old friend. Focus prayerfully on those thoughts, and I’ll nudge you when it’s finally safe to leave.”

  And that’s exactly what we did. I meditate on a regular basis—something that’s been part of my life since before I met Jesus and felt compelled to follow Him across Judea. By the time Roderick and Alistair prodded me to stand up, the men upstairs had left. We turned to leave the Cathedral, and I began to believe we’d get out of there without further incident. Perhaps if my previous history of hunting for my cursed silver shekels had remained a mystery to the American government, we might’ve done just that.

  As soon as we stepped through the cathedral doors, a familiar face greeted us. It was his voice that met us first.

  “Well, imagine this…the very four individuals on this planet who can shed invaluable light on why Viktor Kaslow has decided to bring his murdering ass to the lovely city of La Paz happen to be gathered in one convenient spot!” exalted Cedric Tomlinson. My former CIA boss and sometimes friend, depending on whether or not he was working my last nerve. He climbed the steps to meet us. “This is a glorious day, indeed!”

  “Fancy meeting you here, Cedric.” Roderick sported the same sarcastic tone I would’ve employed. “You’re just in time to make sure we don’t encounter any civil unpleasantness in light of the fact Ramon Espinoza is dead and the prime suspect for his murder is galloping into the Andes at this very moment.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry…so I suppose you want me to shut the fuck up, step aside, and let you carry on your merry way to go after him. Right?”

  Among the most handsome, athletic African Americans I’ve known the past few hundred years, Cedric looked exhausted. The normal mirthful twinkle in his eyes absent, they were dull and bloodshot. Even the slight wrinkles in his smooth ebony skin were more pronounced, obscuring prominent cheekbones.

  “Something like that,” I replied, resigned to the idea we weren’t going anywhere soon. “So, what brings you to La Paz?”

  “Same thing that brought y’all here—just looking for the legendary City of Gold that’s supposed to be submerged in Lake Titicaca,” he said dryly. “But first, you’re going to tell me why Kaslow is so damned angry he twisted the poor archbishop into a human pretzel before shoving him inside his briefcase…or what portion could fit into it. The rest is a bloody pulp our team and the Bolivians are trying to scoop out right now from the Mercedes’ trunk.”

  It did sound like a Kaslow tantrum…something in line with a personality becoming increasingly diabolical. My loathing toward my immortal nemesis immediately intensified. But too much hatred could become debilitating, since that sort of thing often turns self-destructive with little effect on its intended victim. We might as well shoot spit wads at Kaslow the next time we go head to head with him.

  “Well, regardless of your late afternoon plans, none of you are going anywhere until I get answers,” said Cedric, motioning to two teams of Bolivian detectives that approached from both sides of the archdiocese. “Once I’m satisfied with your answers, we can go get this crazy mo-fo.”

  “We?” I laughed.

  “Yes, we, William,” he said, matching my disrespect with his own. “For as long as all four of you crazy fuckers remain in Bolivia, I’ll be your personal chaperone.”

  Chapter 6

  Cedric Tomlinson’s presence changed the entire dynamic of our mission. Immediately. Mostly for the worse, although it could have been catastrophic had he completely toed the CIA company line. Much of what he planned to do in apprehending our Soviet adversary was rogue. Rogue enough to where I had little doubt Paul Silverstein would deliver a stiffer penalty to Cedric than the slaps across the wrist for past indiscretions.

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re sure it’s a good idea to leave your sedan parked here at the archdiocese, while you share the backseat with Roderick and me,” I said, glancing toward the cathedral through the rear window of our rented BMW.

  We had officially begun our road trek into the Andes, with hopes of reaching the Essene castle sooner than our projected five-hour arrival. None of us believed Kaslow would ever come back to the church. He had what he wanted, and would likely reach the castle long before we did. I prayed Roderick was correct about the Essenes’ keen sense of danger and their ability to cloak the castle.

  “We may be gone much of the next week,” I continued, when Cedric didn’t respond. “What will you do when Michael comes looking for you, and the four fugitives you were supposed to detain are nowhere to be found?”

  “Well…under normal circumstances, I might worry about that,” he said, adjusting his seatbelt. It was a little cramped with him sitting between Roderick and me. He paused to cast his own glance, warily, through the rear window. “But, since we’ve confirmed enough evidence that the remains found inside Ramon Espinoza’s car are in fact the archbishop’s, my official work here is done. Rick Johnson and Jose Hernandez arrived this morning to take over our end of the investigation, largely being handled by the La Paz people. So, until I report for my debriefing this Thursday, I’m technically a free man.”

  He mustered a smile more along the lines of his usual cavalier disposition.

  “Free to get lost in the Bolivian Andes while we take care of my personal business?

  “You mean finding your next damned coin, William?”

  “Well, they’re only damned if they fall into the wrong hands,” I said. He probably thought my smug smile was for him, when actually directed toward our two lovebirds sitting up front. Alistair was driving, and he and Amy held hands. I caught her giving him a loving smile—one I’ll admit warmed my heart with fatherly pride. I only wished they were safe at home in Washington. “Speaking of which, you haven’t asked us a damned thing about where we’re going. Since when did you become lax on the such details?”

  “This isn’t an assignment,” he said, chuckling. “Oh, I’m sure I’d eventually get all the surveillance data on this little expedition of yours. But since I’ve got a few days to kill, it seemed prudent to find out the real reasons why Kaslow wants the coin held safely in a castle, by a group of Hebrews who have inhabited the place almost as long as you’ve walked the earth...Judas.”

  “How in the hell did you know about that?” asked Alistair, using the rearview mirror to peer into the backseat. “Have you met these Essenes before, Cedric?”

  “Oh, no—especially since that would mean having to spend a helluva lot more time in Bolivia than I’ve ever wanted to,” he replied. “Did y’all know these guys have brotherhoods set up throughout the planet? Hmmmm? …That’s right. Hell, we’ve even got us a local chapter in the States just south of Atlanta, Georgia.”

  He chuckled again, reaching over to pat Roderick on the back, all the while grinning at me. Was this supposed to be Cedric’s personal rendition of
a ‘betrayal kiss’?

  “I’ll bet Roderick doesn’t even remember our brief conversation about these sectarian mothers when we worried you had gone AWOL two springs ago,” he continued. “You remember, don’t you, Willie Boy? It was right after Kaslow tried to take you out with a RPG-7v2 in Caracas. Instead of reporting to me, as you were instructed to do, you went on the lam for about a week.”

  “I needed time to sort things out, since you guys royally screwed me!” I sneered, mean enough to draw alarmed glances from the lovebirds up front. Meanwhile, my druid buddy continued to gaze out his window. Gazing at virtually nothing interesting enough to hold his attention. Or more accurately, other than a few modern buildings of interest, it was the same mountainous landscape he had seen dozens of times during the past millennium. “I had warned you about Kaslow’s obsession with killing me, and yet no one in the agency believed me until it was almost too late! An apartment building that housed several families was blown to bits, I might add. Sometimes late at night I still hear the horrific cries from women and children being burned to death!”

  Cedric’s wry grin disappeared. Despite being an ass, there is compassion in his heart—the main reason we’ve been able to maintain a tenuous friendship for so many years.

  “We’ve all seen terrible things in this line of work—you know that,” he said, quietly. “My point wasn’t to make you relive painful experiences, William. Rather, I wanted you to understand the context of how I learned about the guys we’re likely to meet up with this evening…. Roderick and I both wondered back then if you had cut bait with us and gone after this particular coin instead. I was told this was the most significant coin of the bunch, and if you claimed it, you’d immediately be on your way to gather up the others….”

  He didn’t finish, and there was no need. Yes, it would’ve been my one-way ticket out of this interminably long life, and not all of the reasons for considering it were selfish. I would be done with the journey that brings such weariness to my soul. But my kid and wife would in all probability be safe from harm, since Kaslow would no longer have me around to torture mentally with their deaths.

  Roderick would lose an immortal companion—even though we had recently gone for more than a century with maybe a dozen telegrams and phone calls, along with a handful of emails as our only contact with each other. Unfortunately for us immortals, we all feel terrible loss when those of us connected by centuries of coexistence suddenly leave the earth. It’s also how Roderick, I, and our other long-time friends know the monsters we’ve deeply loathed for hundreds of years are still roaming the earth. Surely, it is the same for them in regard to us.

  But did I seriously contemplate such a move? Absolutely.

  I traveled to the southern border of Colombia, sticking to the most remote jungles while avoiding detection by cartels and militia that have retreated to the isolated mountains. As I neared Brazil and the southern line that would take me down into Bolivia, I realized I wasn’t ready for this blood coin. There was too much to be determined with Alistair and Beatrice, concerning our shared journey. The coin would have to wait, and in my mind’s eye, I pictured another forty to fifty years would pass before I’d be forced to claim it.

  I never dreamed less than two years later it would be time to pick it up.

  As for Roderick…I couldn’t blame him for thinking I had panicked at the notion my family was in grave danger. By himself, he would’ve had little chance of intercepting my misguided quest. I might’ve recruited Cedric’s and Michael’s assistance, as he did, if the shoe was on the other foot.

  “So, was it you, old friend, who told them?”

  “Yes, Judas,” said Roderick, turning his attention to me as he looked beyond Cedric. “I had no choice, as you have correctly determined.”

  “What in the hell?” asked Alistair, shooting Roderick a brief glance before gazing at me with his brow furrowed in the rearview mirror. “Do any of you three ever communicate clearly with any consistency?”

  “More than you know, Ali,” I said. “But, sometimes protecting secrets is beneficial. Altering truths you’re not yet ready to hear can be necessary.”

  “So telling a frigging lie beats out the truth, in your estimation?” My boy sounded much angrier than I believed was warranted. Then again, I did possess the advantage of a much bigger worldview than his, by virtue of my extended lifetime. “I bet this happens all the time with me…probably you tell big fat fibs to Amy, too!”

  “No…just to you, son,” I said, making sure I sounded calm, although visions of what this would mean to his rear end if he was still eight years old briefly crossed my mind. “I have, and will continue to protect you and Beatrice at all costs. And, if you and Amy decide to get married as the two of you have hinted at, then she will get the ‘William Barrow protective deceit treatment’ as well.”

  “Humph! I suppose it’s even worse with your buddies sitting with you back there. How can an honest person stand a decent chance when pitted against you three?”

  “I have never lied to you, Alistair,” said Roderick, drawing a disbelieving look from Cedric. However, I could vouch for the validity of his claim, and offered an affirmative nod. “Everything I’ve told you and will ever tell you is completely the uncensored truth.”

  “The hell you say!” said Cedric. “You two are the biggest bullshitters I personally know. In fact, Roderick, I’ll bet my next paycheck I’ll catch you saying some outrageous shit that can either be easily disproved, or you’ll leave out some key detail to make it ambiguous—which is just as dishonest in my book.”

  Alistair nodded approvingly, as did Amy. This should be fun.

  “All right…. I accept your challenge, Cedric,” said Roderick, straightening up in his seat to where he loomed nearly a foot above him. “I will wager full access to what I know about President Lincoln’s assassination in return.”

  “You’ve got a deal, my friend!”

  Cedric extended his right hand to Roderick, who slid his right hand up Cedric’s wrist to secure his favored druid grip. Apparently the two had done this before, as Cedric responded in kind. Once they shook twice, Roderick shot me an ornery look and turned his attention to Alistair.

  “We are within twenty miles of an old landmark I’d like to visit,” he said. “What I tell you now will likely sound like bullshit, and I will only say it once. So, please listen carefully, and my advice to everyone in this car is for you all to have your bullshit meters up and ready. Am I clear so far?”

  While I had only a slight idea what he was up to, certainly Amy, Alistair, and even Cedric were clueless as to the extent of his warlock skills. Alistair had caught a glimpse of Roderick’s repertoire in Hong Kong, when Roderick transformed himself into a Chinese orderly. Difficult to maintain for long, my son later caught a glimpse of the pale druid hiding behind the disguise.

  So, yes, at least he should’ve known a little better. Ditto for Cedric’s twenty-year association with Roderick. Wearing similar smirks, however, all three nodded for him to continue.

  “Do we really have time for this?” I asked, making no effort to conceal my irritation. Our discussions were fine, since they didn’t negatively impact our race to catch Viktor Kaslow before he stormed the Essene castle. “We are already seriously behind in catching up to a certain hostile Russian!”

  “By stopping at the landmark, I’ll have the means to cut out more than half our trip—at least two hours less travel time to reach the castle. Maybe even more,” said Roderick, sounding a tad smug. If nothing else, his confidence on this was one hundred percent. “Trust me, Judas.”

  Seeing that Cedric, Amy, and Alistair were full game for the wager, I decided to go along with Roderick’s request. All the while, I feared my coin would be long gone by the time we reached the castle. Soon, we moved into the Andes foothills, and all of us were on the lookout for this mysterious landmark.

  “There…over there!” said Roderick, excitedly, as we rounded a winding curve on our ascent into
the glorious mountain range. “Do you see the boulders leaning against each other?”

  At first, I didn’t. Amy pointed out the twenty-foot oblong slabs near a gully just off the road. Clearly visible once one knew what to look for, we might’ve missed them entirely while following the highway’s increasingly precarious course.

  “It looks like something you’d see in Europe, erected by the ancient Pixies…or your people, Roderick,” said Alistair, shooting him a playful glance.

  “The mysteries of the Ancients are many,” he retorted. “You should park the car far enough off the road, so no one will bother it.”

  Huh?!

  “We’ve only got a few minutes for this and then we need to be on our way!” I could hide my annoyance with this little game no longer, and moved to prevent my son from driving off the road. Roderick quickly reached across Cedric to grab my left arm, forcing me to face him.

  “Trust me, Judas!”

  It was the eyes. I hadn’t seen the gold specks swirl like that in many, many years. Like a Christmas snow globe…almost. Meanwhile, Alistair stopped the car, perched above a steep embankment.

  “Okay,” I said, finally, as all eyes in the cramped coupe were fixed upon me. “This had better be worth it.”

  “I assure you it will be.” The swirl of gold that had drawn everyone’s attention began to slow down in Roderick’s eyes. “Alistair…can you navigate the hillside, or do you need for me or your father to do it?”

  “I can do it,” said Alistair, with a hint of nervousness. Enough to draw a slight worried gasp from Amy. As mentioned before, my son’s return to youth has also enhanced his bravado. Whether or not he truly was capable of navigating the steep grade, he did it anyway. Thankfully, other than a momentary pull on the sedan’s right side, he managed to get us down the hill in one piece, parking alongside the unusual landmark.

  “Good job, Ali,” I told him, wondering how in the hell we’d get the car back up to the highway.