Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 39
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
This time, the three of us yell in unison, “Who?”
Laughing again, Coaxoch gingerly sits up. “Your father, Mr. Boyd. He is meeting with your father…right now.”
My face pales as my bravado falters. I step back, unfocused on my enemy. Then, she hits me with another sucker punch, except this one leaves me confused more than angry.
“My children will rise, soon, and be led by the worst of them. From under the ruins, they will come, at the beginning.”
She lunges, claws bared, swiping at my face. But before she connects, I calmly take another step back, ignite the blade and swing. Her remaining hand comes free, gushing blood and gore everywhere.
As she’s about to shout in pain, I spin and swipe across her neck, removing her head, thus ending her long and treacherous life.
Even before her limp body falls to the stone and crumbles to dust, I’m already yelling at Kane to call in an EVAC and get us to D.C. as quickly as possible.
I just hope it isn’t too late.
* * *
The Blackhawk helicopter lands, having been prepped and ready for us when needed. Kane’s bosses really had to pull some strings in order for us to have a US military aircraft parked and armed to the teeth on Mexican soil. Thankfully, they were onboard with the knowledge that we were trying to protect their country and the rest of the world. I guess there are some things politics actually take a back seat to after all.
We board and are met by a soldier—a Ranger Kane has known for a long time.
“Good to see you, Jeremy,” the man says, shaking Kane’s hand.
Kane turns to me. “This is Hank Boyd and his team.” He gestures to me and then to Nicole and Olivia, who is holding an ice pack to her head. Then he motions to the soldier. “Hank, this is J.R. Brooks, my former number two. He’s the one that pulled Frost and me out of the jungle. I owe him my life.”
“And Frost’s,” I say, being a little too brash, my emotions getting the best of me.
“Look,” Brooks says, annoyed with my tone, “he was a Ranger and a teammate. It’s only after the disaster in Colombia that he went rogue.”
I concede the point and move the conversation along. “Any word on if Frost is actually at the Smithsonian Castle?”
Brooks shakes his head. “No confirmation that he is even in D.C. at this point, but when we do find out you better believe we’ll be there to stop him.”
Both my eyebrows are perched high atop their respective eyes in surprise. “You’re coming with us?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, replying with a shrug. “Kane’s bosses shanghaied me into service, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do, especially if it involves taking Frost down.”
“You’re a good man, J.R.,” Kane says, clapping the man hard on his back.
Kane sits next to me and gives me a bump with his elbow. “Don’t worry man. Your dad will be fine.”
I meet his confident stare and give him one of my own, except mine, is one of doubt. Dad is a lot of things, but being an action hero is at the bottom of that list.
He quickly became a recluse after Mom died and has only recently become halfway normal again. And to be frank, the events in Algeria had fully awakened him. As awful as the things that happened were, Dad was finally free of his self-hate. At the time, he believed he could have done more for Mom, but curing an inoperable tumor wasn’t exactly possible. Now, the very thing that has awakened his soul could actually be the thing that kills him, led by a man named John Frost.
“Okay,” Brooks says, sitting across from me. “Tell me everything.”
In the next few minutes, we retell the newest member of our little rag-tag team everything. And I mean…everything.
I start by explaining what happened in the Algiers Airport and about the subsequent injury that led me to land in a hospital.
Kane takes over and fills him in on how we met and the final leg to Djanet, where we eventually meet Nicole. He then recaps my near-death experience, almost falling into a thousand-foot-deep pit that doubled as a hidden entrance.
Nicole continues on, describing the cavern and the lava flow, along with the obsidian pyramid, and the stone tree forest.
“Then Hank had a dream—” Nicole says.
“You mean nightmare,” I correct, interrupting her.
Brooks doesn’t say a word as we tell the tale of inhuman monsters, ancient Atlantean overlords, and a whole bunch more supernatural mumbo-jumbo. If the man is even listening it’s hard to say, his face is stone—void of emotion. His eyes barely even blink.
He hears of a zealot little snot, turned traitor, and of a psycho body snatcher.
Kane chimes in quickly transcribing the events that just took place in Teotihuacan and the significance of the woman who attacked us, helping put the story together full circle.
Nicole takes over again and describes the Minotaur-like creatures that confronted us in the courtyard surrounding the black pyramid. She then recounts the battle afterward and the emergence of Ares, the dump truck-sized stone polar bear.
“It was pure chaos,” I say, telling him about the brawl I had with Nannot. How—like his wife after him—I dismembered him, removing both his hands. Then, I describe how I burnt the evil out his host body using the fires of Atlantis, the flames from within.
I finish by saying, “It was the most incredible and the worst experience of my life, and I will never forget it…” I look at Nicole, “For better…” And then out of the Blackhawk’s window. “…or worse.”
Brooks sits back, expressionless, but thinking. He may even wear down the enamel on his teeth by clenching them so tightly.
Finally, he sits forward, clearing his throat and says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeat, expecting more of a reaction. Everything we just told him is straight out of a Robinson novel, and the only thing this guy can say is okay?
The Ranger sits forward, rubbing his hands together. “There’s a lot of weird shit out there, some we’ve never seen or heard and some we never want to see or hear.” He straightens and continues, “My job, regardless of the odds or of the…circumstances…is to provide assistance and or help take down the bastard responsible for this, which is in this case, a former teammate of mine. Plus… You wouldn’t believe some of the things Jeremy and I went through together in the army. Some of it was pretty freaky too.”
I’m about to ask about the freaky stuff but realize now is probably not the time.
I think back to how he described his take on things. His attitude towards this life or death, real and yet unreal, situation is mind-blowing. He is, indeed, a warrior in every sense of the word, Kane included. These guys are the real action heroes which is fine by me. I like being the normie of the group with the cute girlfriend.
I feel a squeeze on my hand and squeeze back, instinctively knowing it’s Nicole.
Kane and Brooks continue the conversation, going over strategy and what not, while I turn to Nicole who’s seated on my right.
“Hi,” I say with a yawn. Damn, I’m tired.
“Hi,” Nicole answers back, as I lose myself in her eyes. “You did well, Hank. I’m proud of you.”
I smile, having nothing to say, which is okay.
Nicole returns my smile and leans her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. I follow her example and close mine and say a quick prayer for my father and to those who are inadvertently in Frost’s way.
32
Mexico City International Airport
Mexico City, Mexico
The chopper ride is short and sweet considering it only takes about forty-five minutes to reach Mexico City by car from Teotihuacan. We get there much quicker.
We land on a secluded piece of tarmac, surrounded by the Mexican Army. It’s an impressive sight, especially since we are Americans—minus Nicole and Olivia of course—they are just here on the United States’ behalf.
Technically, Nicole is still a Swede by residency, but we’ve been looking into that. A permanent move to the states is in the works. She couldn’t get herself to sell her and her husband’s home outside Uppsala. But now…she’s reconsidered. It’s a bold move and one I’m very flattered by. It really does mean that she sees us as a long-term thing and frankly so do I. Plus, the crap that’s been going down lately is a pretty good reason to stick around as well.
We exit the Blackhawk and make for the jet that is gassed up and ready to go, per the United States government. The flight from here to D.C. will take over four hours so it’s not like we can just rush in, we have time. Even if we don’t want it.
Where’s Scotty when you need him, I ponder to myself, thinking of the time wasted in the air. I could use a good beaming. BAM! Straight to Washington.
But, we haven’t developed that type of transportation yet, so unfortunately for me, I’m stuck with travel by winged aircraft.
Brooks stomps up behind the four of us in full Special Forces regalia. He’s even wearing the same stone determined look on his face as before.
“You know you’re going to have to change, right?” I say, motioning to his get up.
He stops, looking himself over. “Why?” He asks, confused.
“Because you stick out like a sore thumb, J.R.,” Kane adds, understanding my comment. “We can’t have Frost’s people calling him when they see a guy in fatigues waltzing up to the Smithsonian Castle. You need to look like one of us.”
Kane motions to us and then the ladies, all of whom are wearing your standard American attire, mostly t-shirt and jeans or shorts.
Brooks frowns at the mention of changing but nods his agreement. “So,” he says, “going native are we?”
Kane smiles, and claps the guy on the back again, getting a grunt of protest out of the hardened soldier. He then looks back-and-forth between Brooks and me, smiling broadly. “You have any extra clothes with you, Hank? My man is about your size.”
I smile, then laugh a little, as we board the plane to D.C., sitting in the center-most section of seats. The forward and rear parts are entirely full of gear. There’s an assortment of weapons, including a new AA-12 auto shotgun. Kane must see the smile on my face because he laughs hard and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“I figured you could use another one with how well you handled the first.”
I reach for the weapon, but freeze, thinking over the plan we laid out in the air. I shake my head in frustration and step away from the gun.
“No dice,” I say, turning to everyone. “We need to be as inconspicuous as possible which means NO heavy hitting weapons.”
Kane’s about to protest, but I beat him to it. “Unless,” I say, turning to him. “You can fit those heavy hitters in your pack.”
This brings a smile to his face. And honestly, I’m not sure he could function without his beloved Chip and Dale. The guy has been attached to them like a man and his dog. They are inseparable.
“What about me?” Brooks says, removing his weapons and outerwear. “I don’t have one of these fancy-schmancy backpacks.”
“You do now,” Kane says, tossing him an exact replica of mine. “We always keep a spare for each of us, just in case.”
Brooks catches the fully loaded bag, inspecting it with an impressed nod. “What’s in it?” He asks, looking to me.
“Glock G41 with MOS system,” I reply, giving him some tough guy gun-speak.
He removes the gun and nods his approval, “Get rid of the MOS-bullshit and we have a deal. I ain’t no rookie.”
This gets a roar of laughter out of Kane and Nicole who have been teasing me since day one about the modification I made to the gun. But now I get it, Kane and Brooks are pros and don’t want the help. They learned the raw way and are better for it.
“I’ll take care of it, Brooksie,” Kane says, taking the weapon. As Kane is about to sit and work on the offered pistol, I stop him.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing my pack, opening the hidden pouch containing my Glock. I flip it around, holding the barrel and hand it to Kane. He just looks down at it, unsure. “Me too, Kane. The training wheels are off.”
Kane takes the gun and nods, so does Brooks. Both men have a look of pride on their faces and not just them. I turn and find Nicole collapsed in a comfy leather chair staring at me.
“Hey Kane, remind me to call Dad when we land, okay?” I ask, about to sit. “He seemed kind of off earlier.”
“He’s probably still not feeling well,” Kane replies from further up the cabin, no doubt fiddling with the two Glock handguns. “Give the old guy a break.”
I plop down next to Nicole to find her still gazing at me. “What?” I ask, cupping my hand around hers.
She leans in close to me. “That…was so…hot,” she says with a smile, biting her lip. “My boy is truly a man.”
I lean in closer until our lips almost touch. “You ever hear of the mile-high club?”
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
“Answer it.”
Dr. Boyd leaned forward and reached a shaking hand towards the receiver of his office phone. He breathed in, slowing his pulse and subsequently calming the slight tremble.
Picking it up, he put it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Dad, it’s me. We just landed in Dulles, we’ll be there in thirty minutes or so.”
Boyd was too distracted to reply to his son, having a lot on his plate at the moment.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Dad, you okay?”
“Yes, son. Everything is fine here,” Dr. Boyd said, snapping back into the conversation. He shook his head, clearing it. “Ben and I are just going over some notes from the Chichen Itza incident.”
“You sure, Dad?” Hank asked with obvious worry. He wasn’t one to overreact like this. “I know you haven’t been feeling well and I don’t want you to overdo it.”
You have no idea… Boyd thought, looking up from the phone and at the two men seated across from him.
“Yes, we’re okay,” he answered, doing his best to alleviate the tension in his voice. “Just call me when you’re pulling in so I can meet you in my office.” He breathed in a heavy breath. “Okay?”
The two men signed off with a quick goodbye. Boyd still feared for his son’s safety and sanity like any father would, awaiting the day it all came down on him if he wasn’t careful. Hank pushed himself to the limit day in and day out, but right now, the elder Boyd waited for something else…a potential bullet.
“Why are you doing this Frost?” Boyd angrily asked the scarred figure sitting before him and Ben. He slammed the phone down, angry at having just unwillingly set up his own son. His emotions had been bouncing between fear and anger since this whole ordeal had begun.
The two historians had accompanied “Agent Manke” back to Boyd’s office for further discussion on the matter. That’s when Frost pulled a silenced pistol on them, forcing them to sit or they would be shot and left for dead.
Frost now sat across from Boyd, but the gun wasn’t pointed at him…it was aimed at Ben. And he would do anything and everything to keep his long-time friend alive, even if that meant lying to Hank.
Hank had mentioned they were coming armed and ready for anything. He also said they would be accompanied by an Army Ranger named J.R. Brooks. If there weren't so much added firepower, if Hank was coming alone, he would have somehow tried to warn him about the fake special agent’s treachery.
“Why?” Frost asked rhetorically. “All I’m doing is a job—a job that you and your son have gotten in the way of several times. This is me saying thanks.”
He smiled at the older men, his two-faced appearance making him look even more sinister.
“Plus,” Frost added, “I would oh-so-love to see my friend Jeremy again. We have some unfinished business to discuss.”
And Brooks, Boyd thought, but he’d keep that little nugget to himself for now.
“Like what?” Boyd asked, his fright and anger quickly turning to rage. He knew what happened between the two men was a hazard of the job and war, not the fault of one man.
“He left me behind after I got out of the hospital,” Frost replied, venom in his words. “I was booted from the Army and was considered a freak in many circles. I turned to killing because it was the only thing I knew I could do, and do well.”
“This…” He said, holding up a small briefcase. “This is my ticket out of this mess. If I finish the job, then my contract is over, and I’m free from her wrath.”
Dr. Boyd’s eyes widened a little. “Her? You don’t mean Coaxoch do you?”
Now it was Frost’s turn to look shocked. “How do you know that name?” He asked.
“When I was on the phone with Hank, he mentioned a naked snake-woman that used supernatural powers to bring the stone to life. He said her name was Coaxoch, leader of Zero.”
Frost was about to give his rebuttal, but Boyd stopped him dead.
“Also,” Boyd said, “she’s dead. Slain by Hank himself with the help of an Atlantean sword found on Isla de Jaina.”
Frost was utterly speechless at hearing that his employer and would be executioner was dead, killed by the very same weapon he saw while inside the Mayan tomb. He specifically remembered the blade because it was the instrument used to kill the senior archaeologist at the dig site.
He was free.
Coaxoch was dead, and he had Hank Boyd to thank, but that alone made him angrier. The fact that the seemingly indestructible little shit had inadvertently helped him was the final straw.
“Well then,” Frost said, leaning forward, voice calm and smooth. “We’ll just have to roll out the welcome mat for him and thank him properly.” He grinned a sickly smile. “Now won’t we?”
33
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
The Castle isn’t exactly a castle per se, it’s just the nickname given to the Smithsonian Institution Building. The red sandstone building houses the Institution’s administrative offices. It sits directly across from the National Museum of Natural History, on the southern side of the National Mall.
Laughing again, Coaxoch gingerly sits up. “Your father, Mr. Boyd. He is meeting with your father…right now.”
My face pales as my bravado falters. I step back, unfocused on my enemy. Then, she hits me with another sucker punch, except this one leaves me confused more than angry.
“My children will rise, soon, and be led by the worst of them. From under the ruins, they will come, at the beginning.”
She lunges, claws bared, swiping at my face. But before she connects, I calmly take another step back, ignite the blade and swing. Her remaining hand comes free, gushing blood and gore everywhere.
As she’s about to shout in pain, I spin and swipe across her neck, removing her head, thus ending her long and treacherous life.
Even before her limp body falls to the stone and crumbles to dust, I’m already yelling at Kane to call in an EVAC and get us to D.C. as quickly as possible.
I just hope it isn’t too late.
* * *
The Blackhawk helicopter lands, having been prepped and ready for us when needed. Kane’s bosses really had to pull some strings in order for us to have a US military aircraft parked and armed to the teeth on Mexican soil. Thankfully, they were onboard with the knowledge that we were trying to protect their country and the rest of the world. I guess there are some things politics actually take a back seat to after all.
We board and are met by a soldier—a Ranger Kane has known for a long time.
“Good to see you, Jeremy,” the man says, shaking Kane’s hand.
Kane turns to me. “This is Hank Boyd and his team.” He gestures to me and then to Nicole and Olivia, who is holding an ice pack to her head. Then he motions to the soldier. “Hank, this is J.R. Brooks, my former number two. He’s the one that pulled Frost and me out of the jungle. I owe him my life.”
“And Frost’s,” I say, being a little too brash, my emotions getting the best of me.
“Look,” Brooks says, annoyed with my tone, “he was a Ranger and a teammate. It’s only after the disaster in Colombia that he went rogue.”
I concede the point and move the conversation along. “Any word on if Frost is actually at the Smithsonian Castle?”
Brooks shakes his head. “No confirmation that he is even in D.C. at this point, but when we do find out you better believe we’ll be there to stop him.”
Both my eyebrows are perched high atop their respective eyes in surprise. “You’re coming with us?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, replying with a shrug. “Kane’s bosses shanghaied me into service, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do, especially if it involves taking Frost down.”
“You’re a good man, J.R.,” Kane says, clapping the man hard on his back.
Kane sits next to me and gives me a bump with his elbow. “Don’t worry man. Your dad will be fine.”
I meet his confident stare and give him one of my own, except mine, is one of doubt. Dad is a lot of things, but being an action hero is at the bottom of that list.
He quickly became a recluse after Mom died and has only recently become halfway normal again. And to be frank, the events in Algeria had fully awakened him. As awful as the things that happened were, Dad was finally free of his self-hate. At the time, he believed he could have done more for Mom, but curing an inoperable tumor wasn’t exactly possible. Now, the very thing that has awakened his soul could actually be the thing that kills him, led by a man named John Frost.
“Okay,” Brooks says, sitting across from me. “Tell me everything.”
In the next few minutes, we retell the newest member of our little rag-tag team everything. And I mean…everything.
I start by explaining what happened in the Algiers Airport and about the subsequent injury that led me to land in a hospital.
Kane takes over and fills him in on how we met and the final leg to Djanet, where we eventually meet Nicole. He then recaps my near-death experience, almost falling into a thousand-foot-deep pit that doubled as a hidden entrance.
Nicole continues on, describing the cavern and the lava flow, along with the obsidian pyramid, and the stone tree forest.
“Then Hank had a dream—” Nicole says.
“You mean nightmare,” I correct, interrupting her.
Brooks doesn’t say a word as we tell the tale of inhuman monsters, ancient Atlantean overlords, and a whole bunch more supernatural mumbo-jumbo. If the man is even listening it’s hard to say, his face is stone—void of emotion. His eyes barely even blink.
He hears of a zealot little snot, turned traitor, and of a psycho body snatcher.
Kane chimes in quickly transcribing the events that just took place in Teotihuacan and the significance of the woman who attacked us, helping put the story together full circle.
Nicole takes over again and describes the Minotaur-like creatures that confronted us in the courtyard surrounding the black pyramid. She then recounts the battle afterward and the emergence of Ares, the dump truck-sized stone polar bear.
“It was pure chaos,” I say, telling him about the brawl I had with Nannot. How—like his wife after him—I dismembered him, removing both his hands. Then, I describe how I burnt the evil out his host body using the fires of Atlantis, the flames from within.
I finish by saying, “It was the most incredible and the worst experience of my life, and I will never forget it…” I look at Nicole, “For better…” And then out of the Blackhawk’s window. “…or worse.”
Brooks sits back, expressionless, but thinking. He may even wear down the enamel on his teeth by clenching them so tightly.
Finally, he sits forward, clearing his throat and says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeat, expecting more of a reaction. Everything we just told him is straight out of a Robinson novel, and the only thing this guy can say is okay?
The Ranger sits forward, rubbing his hands together. “There’s a lot of weird shit out there, some we’ve never seen or heard and some we never want to see or hear.” He straightens and continues, “My job, regardless of the odds or of the…circumstances…is to provide assistance and or help take down the bastard responsible for this, which is in this case, a former teammate of mine. Plus… You wouldn’t believe some of the things Jeremy and I went through together in the army. Some of it was pretty freaky too.”
I’m about to ask about the freaky stuff but realize now is probably not the time.
I think back to how he described his take on things. His attitude towards this life or death, real and yet unreal, situation is mind-blowing. He is, indeed, a warrior in every sense of the word, Kane included. These guys are the real action heroes which is fine by me. I like being the normie of the group with the cute girlfriend.
I feel a squeeze on my hand and squeeze back, instinctively knowing it’s Nicole.
Kane and Brooks continue the conversation, going over strategy and what not, while I turn to Nicole who’s seated on my right.
“Hi,” I say with a yawn. Damn, I’m tired.
“Hi,” Nicole answers back, as I lose myself in her eyes. “You did well, Hank. I’m proud of you.”
I smile, having nothing to say, which is okay.
Nicole returns my smile and leans her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. I follow her example and close mine and say a quick prayer for my father and to those who are inadvertently in Frost’s way.
32
Mexico City International Airport
Mexico City, Mexico
The chopper ride is short and sweet considering it only takes about forty-five minutes to reach Mexico City by car from Teotihuacan. We get there much quicker.
We land on a secluded piece of tarmac, surrounded by the Mexican Army. It’s an impressive sight, especially since we are Americans—minus Nicole and Olivia of course—they are just here on the United States’ behalf.
Technically, Nicole is still a Swede by residency, but we’ve been looking into that. A permanent move to the states is in the works. She couldn’t get herself to sell her and her husband’s home outside Uppsala. But now…she’s reconsidered. It’s a bold move and one I’m very flattered by. It really does mean that she sees us as a long-term thing and frankly so do I. Plus, the crap that’s been going down lately is a pretty good reason to stick around as well.
We exit the Blackhawk and make for the jet that is gassed up and ready to go, per the United States government. The flight from here to D.C. will take over four hours so it’s not like we can just rush in, we have time. Even if we don’t want it.
Where’s Scotty when you need him, I ponder to myself, thinking of the time wasted in the air. I could use a good beaming. BAM! Straight to Washington.
But, we haven’t developed that type of transportation yet, so unfortunately for me, I’m stuck with travel by winged aircraft.
Brooks stomps up behind the four of us in full Special Forces regalia. He’s even wearing the same stone determined look on his face as before.
“You know you’re going to have to change, right?” I say, motioning to his get up.
He stops, looking himself over. “Why?” He asks, confused.
“Because you stick out like a sore thumb, J.R.,” Kane adds, understanding my comment. “We can’t have Frost’s people calling him when they see a guy in fatigues waltzing up to the Smithsonian Castle. You need to look like one of us.”
Kane motions to us and then the ladies, all of whom are wearing your standard American attire, mostly t-shirt and jeans or shorts.
Brooks frowns at the mention of changing but nods his agreement. “So,” he says, “going native are we?”
Kane smiles, and claps the guy on the back again, getting a grunt of protest out of the hardened soldier. He then looks back-and-forth between Brooks and me, smiling broadly. “You have any extra clothes with you, Hank? My man is about your size.”
I smile, then laugh a little, as we board the plane to D.C., sitting in the center-most section of seats. The forward and rear parts are entirely full of gear. There’s an assortment of weapons, including a new AA-12 auto shotgun. Kane must see the smile on my face because he laughs hard and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“I figured you could use another one with how well you handled the first.”
I reach for the weapon, but freeze, thinking over the plan we laid out in the air. I shake my head in frustration and step away from the gun.
“No dice,” I say, turning to everyone. “We need to be as inconspicuous as possible which means NO heavy hitting weapons.”
Kane’s about to protest, but I beat him to it. “Unless,” I say, turning to him. “You can fit those heavy hitters in your pack.”
This brings a smile to his face. And honestly, I’m not sure he could function without his beloved Chip and Dale. The guy has been attached to them like a man and his dog. They are inseparable.
“What about me?” Brooks says, removing his weapons and outerwear. “I don’t have one of these fancy-schmancy backpacks.”
“You do now,” Kane says, tossing him an exact replica of mine. “We always keep a spare for each of us, just in case.”
Brooks catches the fully loaded bag, inspecting it with an impressed nod. “What’s in it?” He asks, looking to me.
“Glock G41 with MOS system,” I reply, giving him some tough guy gun-speak.
He removes the gun and nods his approval, “Get rid of the MOS-bullshit and we have a deal. I ain’t no rookie.”
This gets a roar of laughter out of Kane and Nicole who have been teasing me since day one about the modification I made to the gun. But now I get it, Kane and Brooks are pros and don’t want the help. They learned the raw way and are better for it.
“I’ll take care of it, Brooksie,” Kane says, taking the weapon. As Kane is about to sit and work on the offered pistol, I stop him.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing my pack, opening the hidden pouch containing my Glock. I flip it around, holding the barrel and hand it to Kane. He just looks down at it, unsure. “Me too, Kane. The training wheels are off.”
Kane takes the gun and nods, so does Brooks. Both men have a look of pride on their faces and not just them. I turn and find Nicole collapsed in a comfy leather chair staring at me.
“Hey Kane, remind me to call Dad when we land, okay?” I ask, about to sit. “He seemed kind of off earlier.”
“He’s probably still not feeling well,” Kane replies from further up the cabin, no doubt fiddling with the two Glock handguns. “Give the old guy a break.”
I plop down next to Nicole to find her still gazing at me. “What?” I ask, cupping my hand around hers.
She leans in close to me. “That…was so…hot,” she says with a smile, biting her lip. “My boy is truly a man.”
I lean in closer until our lips almost touch. “You ever hear of the mile-high club?”
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
“Answer it.”
Dr. Boyd leaned forward and reached a shaking hand towards the receiver of his office phone. He breathed in, slowing his pulse and subsequently calming the slight tremble.
Picking it up, he put it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Dad, it’s me. We just landed in Dulles, we’ll be there in thirty minutes or so.”
Boyd was too distracted to reply to his son, having a lot on his plate at the moment.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Dad, you okay?”
“Yes, son. Everything is fine here,” Dr. Boyd said, snapping back into the conversation. He shook his head, clearing it. “Ben and I are just going over some notes from the Chichen Itza incident.”
“You sure, Dad?” Hank asked with obvious worry. He wasn’t one to overreact like this. “I know you haven’t been feeling well and I don’t want you to overdo it.”
You have no idea… Boyd thought, looking up from the phone and at the two men seated across from him.
“Yes, we’re okay,” he answered, doing his best to alleviate the tension in his voice. “Just call me when you’re pulling in so I can meet you in my office.” He breathed in a heavy breath. “Okay?”
The two men signed off with a quick goodbye. Boyd still feared for his son’s safety and sanity like any father would, awaiting the day it all came down on him if he wasn’t careful. Hank pushed himself to the limit day in and day out, but right now, the elder Boyd waited for something else…a potential bullet.
“Why are you doing this Frost?” Boyd angrily asked the scarred figure sitting before him and Ben. He slammed the phone down, angry at having just unwillingly set up his own son. His emotions had been bouncing between fear and anger since this whole ordeal had begun.
The two historians had accompanied “Agent Manke” back to Boyd’s office for further discussion on the matter. That’s when Frost pulled a silenced pistol on them, forcing them to sit or they would be shot and left for dead.
Frost now sat across from Boyd, but the gun wasn’t pointed at him…it was aimed at Ben. And he would do anything and everything to keep his long-time friend alive, even if that meant lying to Hank.
Hank had mentioned they were coming armed and ready for anything. He also said they would be accompanied by an Army Ranger named J.R. Brooks. If there weren't so much added firepower, if Hank was coming alone, he would have somehow tried to warn him about the fake special agent’s treachery.
“Why?” Frost asked rhetorically. “All I’m doing is a job—a job that you and your son have gotten in the way of several times. This is me saying thanks.”
He smiled at the older men, his two-faced appearance making him look even more sinister.
“Plus,” Frost added, “I would oh-so-love to see my friend Jeremy again. We have some unfinished business to discuss.”
And Brooks, Boyd thought, but he’d keep that little nugget to himself for now.
“Like what?” Boyd asked, his fright and anger quickly turning to rage. He knew what happened between the two men was a hazard of the job and war, not the fault of one man.
“He left me behind after I got out of the hospital,” Frost replied, venom in his words. “I was booted from the Army and was considered a freak in many circles. I turned to killing because it was the only thing I knew I could do, and do well.”
“This…” He said, holding up a small briefcase. “This is my ticket out of this mess. If I finish the job, then my contract is over, and I’m free from her wrath.”
Dr. Boyd’s eyes widened a little. “Her? You don’t mean Coaxoch do you?”
Now it was Frost’s turn to look shocked. “How do you know that name?” He asked.
“When I was on the phone with Hank, he mentioned a naked snake-woman that used supernatural powers to bring the stone to life. He said her name was Coaxoch, leader of Zero.”
Frost was about to give his rebuttal, but Boyd stopped him dead.
“Also,” Boyd said, “she’s dead. Slain by Hank himself with the help of an Atlantean sword found on Isla de Jaina.”
Frost was utterly speechless at hearing that his employer and would be executioner was dead, killed by the very same weapon he saw while inside the Mayan tomb. He specifically remembered the blade because it was the instrument used to kill the senior archaeologist at the dig site.
He was free.
Coaxoch was dead, and he had Hank Boyd to thank, but that alone made him angrier. The fact that the seemingly indestructible little shit had inadvertently helped him was the final straw.
“Well then,” Frost said, leaning forward, voice calm and smooth. “We’ll just have to roll out the welcome mat for him and thank him properly.” He grinned a sickly smile. “Now won’t we?”
33
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
The Castle isn’t exactly a castle per se, it’s just the nickname given to the Smithsonian Institution Building. The red sandstone building houses the Institution’s administrative offices. It sits directly across from the National Museum of Natural History, on the southern side of the National Mall.
