“Because the cipher is for the four caverns.”
“You mean chambers,” Alexandra corrected. “That could be a completely different place.”
“You want the treasure?” Fisk sounded annoyed. “Find the tour guide. If it’s not here like he says it is, I’ll break every bone in his body right before I kill him.”
The sound of their footsteps faded as the group continued down the tunnel.
Sam and Remi started to follow when they heard the heavy scuff of boots coming from the main chamber.
Victor and Rogen were back.
And Sam and Remi were trapped.
Fifty-four
Sam took Remi by the arm, leading her back toward the upper chamber, running one hand on the wall to feel their way in the dark, until they reached one of the side passages off the main tunnel. He and Remi stepped in, Sam taking up a position closer to the opening, with Remi right behind him.
A moment later, the bright beam of a flashlight flickered across the stone walls and the ground. Sam noticed the very obvious footprints they’d left that led right to them. He aimed toward the tunnel entrance.
There was only one man, and Sam relaxed his trigger finger as he continued on and the passageway grew dark once more.
They were about to step out when a soft scrape alerted Sam that whoever it was—Victor or Rogen—had probably doubled back and was now standing just outside the tunnel entrance. Sam felt the slightest movement of air as the man brought his gun upward, then turned on his flashlight, calling out, “Vic—”
Sam grabbed the guy’s collar and swung him around, ramming his head against the cave wall. The flashlight went flying.
Gripping his Smith & Wesson like brass knuckles, Sam smashed him in the face. Rogen staggered, grabbing at Sam’s shirt with his left hand, swinging his gun toward Sam. Sam grabbed the semiauto by its slide, the metal cutting into his hand as Rogen tried to pull the trigger. Sam dropped his Smith & Wesson and grabbed the gun with both hands to keep Rogen from firing. He leaned in, twisting the gun with all his strength. Bones snapped and Rogen’s grip suddenly gave way. Sam freed the gun, crashed it down on his skull, stepped behind him as he swept his arm around his neck, squeezing in a chokehold to finish him off.
Remi picked up both guns while Sam dragged the body into the side tunnel. One down, five to go.
“If he was calling for Victor,” Remi whispered, giving both guns to Sam, “where is he?”
“Good question.” There was only one reason Sam could think of as to why Victor wouldn’t have come down with Rogen.
Someone had to stand guard in the main cavern.
Sam pointed in that direction, and Remi nodded. They started up, turning the light off before they reached the cavern. A light, its glow reflecting into the tunnel. Remi waited as Sam continued to the end of the tunnel.
Not only was Victor standing guard, he had one arm around Nigel’s neck, his flashlight pointed toward Sam, and, in the other hand, his gun to Nigel’s head.
“How’d you get past my brother?”
“Oh. That was your brother down there?” Sam kept his gun pointed at the guy, sidestepping around the circumference of the cavern. Victor turned with him, careful to keep Nigel between him and Sam.
“What’d you do to Rogen?”
Sam didn’t answer. Just kept moving so that Victor followed until his flashlight was no longer pointed Remi’s direction.
“Where is he?”
Just as Sam saw the barrel of Victor’s gun edging from Nigel toward him, Remi stepped out of the tunnel, took a deep breath, then threw her knife.
Victor cried out as the knife hit him square in the back. His gun and flashlight flew from his hands. His head dropped back as he crumpled to the ground, dragging Nigel with him. Nigel scrambled away, his gaze fixed on Victor’s body.
“Nicely done, Mrs. Fargo. Let me guess—you thought I could use a hand?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“I had it under control,” he said as Nigel moved closer to Remi.
“Is—is he dead?” Nigel asked, his face pale.
“Or paralyzed,” Sam said. Remi’s Buck Knife was imbedded up to the hilt against his spine. The man wasn’t going anywhere. Nigel, however, looked about ready to faint as he gave wide berth around the body. “Exactly how did he get you?” Sam asked, more to take Nigel’s mind off the body than anything else.
“I was hiding in one of those side tunnels. I think they saw my footprints.”
Sam eyed Remi’s knife. “Don’t suppose you want that thing back.”
“Not really. But I’ll take his gun.” She reached down, picked it up, then shoved it into the back of her waistband.
“What do you say we get out of here?”
“Splendid idea, Fargo.”
As luck would have it, Fisk and his crew raced into the chamber at that exact moment.
Fifty-five
Sam fired several rounds, forcing Fisk, Ivan, and Jak back into the tunnel. Bits of sandstone flew up from the ground. “New plan,” Sam said, pointing at the first tunnel.
Remi nodded, shut off her Stinger flashlight, pulling Nigel with her.
The only light now was coming from the third tunnel where Fisk and company were holed up.
Fisk realized the disadvantage. The cavern went dark.
Sam kept his aim in that direction as he backed toward the fourth passage. He hadn’t gone more than a few feet when someone stumbled from the tunnel and the chamber lit up with the dim blue beam of a cell phone that tumbled out, then landed light side up. Sam aimed his gun, only to find Alexandra standing there, unarmed, a sacrificial lamb to light up the chamber more. And Sam was right in the middle of it.
“I’ll kill the both of you, Fargo!” Fisk said. “The moment you or that woman moves.”
Alexandra froze, her hands in the air, as she looked at Sam’s gun.
So much for any advantage. “What is it you want, Fisk?”
“My cipher wheel. You were at the inn— Victor!” Fisk said, seeing the body. “What happened to him?”
“Ran into the wrong end of a knife,” Sam said.
“Guns on the ground. Now!”
Sam lowered his gun to the ground.
“Kick it away from you.”
Sam gave it a tepid push.
“Now Victor’s and Rogen’s guns.”
Sam tossed the gun in his waistband.
“The other.”
“Only one I found.” Remi had the other, not that he was about to mention it.
“Your wife. Where is she?”
“Good question.”
“Get her out here or you’re dead.”
Sam remained silent.
“Get her out here or I’ll kill you.”
“I’m here,” Remi said from just inside the first tunnel entrance. She turned on her flashlight, held up both hands, and stepped out into the cavern toward Sam. Nigel at least stayed safely hidden.
“Toss your gun.”
Remi started to lower her Sig.
“I said toss it.”
She did, closer to Sam.
Fisk turned on his light and stepped out of the tunnel, his gun aimed at Sam and Remi. Ivan and Jak flanked him. “Your flashlight,” he said to Remi. “Turn it off.”
She lowered the Stinger to the ground, aiming the beam of light at the Night Sights of her Sig in front of Sam, taking her time before switching it off.
“The cell phone light,” Fisk said, motioning with his gun. Alexandra picked up her phone, turned off the light, and shoved it into her pocket.
The only illumination now came from the flashlight that Fisk aimed at them. “Keep your hands up,” he said.
Suddenly, Alexandra glared at Fisk. “Aren’t you at all interested in the cipher wheel? Turns out, it wasn’t the Farg
os who took it.”
Fisk looked at her. “What’re you talking about?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. “The tour guide said it’s a map to the treasure. Go and get it.” She flung it like a Frisbee toward the farthest passage on their left.
Fisk followed it with the beam of light, his attention diverted as it landed with a clatter, then rolled off into the darkness. “Get it!”
Ivan ran toward the tunnel.
Sam dove, scooping both his hands across the ground, grabbing two of the guns. Remi’s Night Sights were still glowing. He zeroed in on Ivan and fired twice.
Fisk turned off his flashlight, plunging them into darkness. He shot once, the muzzle flash lighting his face.
Sam fired at the light, then rolled in the direction of Victor’s body, using it as cover.
Several sharp blasts came from his right, echoing across the chamber. He glimpsed Jak in the muzzle blast. Remi snapped off a couple of rounds from the upper tunnel, taking him down.
Fisk returned fire.
Sam aimed over Victor’s body and fired back.
Remi’s gun was empty. He dropped it and used his Smith & Wesson.
He heard Fisk down the tunnel in front of him. What he wouldn’t give for a light. As if Remi had read his mind, she rolled the Stinger toward him, the aluminum casing rattling as it bounced across the floor. He felt around until he found the flashlight, his fingers grasping the cold metal. If not for Victor’s body, any lucky ricocheted round off the ground would take Sam out. Not exactly the best cover, but it would do.
He took the flashlight, reaching as far to his left as he could, shoving it under Victor’s outstretched arm. He kept his finger on the button, waiting to turn it on at the right moment. Then, raising his gun just enough to clear Victor’s body, he aimed toward the tunnel where he’d heard Fisk.
A risky plan, but they were running out of ammo. He flashed the light on, then off.
Ivan fired at it.
Sam aimed at the muzzle blast and double-tapped. A thump, then silence. Not who he was looking for, but the next-best thing.
Where are you, Fisk?
How to draw him out? He felt around for Remi’s empty Sig, found it, calling out, “Remi! Get out of here. I’m out of ammo.” He threw the gun so that it clattered across the uneven ground.
A lengthy pause, then Remi saying, “So am I. I’m going for help.”
Someone ran up the tunnel as Sam kept his aim on the lower tunnel, listening for any sound of Fisk.
Just when he wondered if the man was ever coming up, a bluish light lit up on the right side of the cavern. Alexandra holding her cell phone as she walked along the circumference.
“Get out here, you coward,” she shouted. “I’m the one you need to deal with.”
Sam watched, stunned, as she approached the tunnel Fisk had disappeared in. He glanced toward it, the darkness absolute. But then, surprising him, Fisk stepped out, saying, “You think you can steal my cipher wheel and get away with it?”
He leveled his gun at her.
Sam fired.
Fisk jerked back. He looked at Sam, shocked, as he staggered to one side, his gun falling from his hand. “You were out of ammo.”
“I lied.”
Fifty-six
I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble searching for those caverns,” Lazlo said after Sam and Remi called to check in. “We may have sent you on a bit of a wild-goose chase.”
“No trouble at all,” Sam said, watching the multitude of cops on the premises, many of them from the firearms unit—the only officers in Great Britain authorized to carry guns. “Why?”
“Turns out, we were wrong. Definitely a fourth chamber, not cavern. In fact, we’re fairly certain the treasure can’t possibly be anywhere near Nottingham Park. I’m not sure why Nigel would have sent you there. It just doesn’t fit.”
Sam and Remi exchanged glances as they ended their call home, then looked at Nigel. “Why did you send us there?” Remi asked.
He drew his gaze from Alexandra, who was giving her statement to one of the investigators. “It was the only thing I could think of that might convince them they needed me. I’d been to the four caverns on a tour years ago during one of my university classes.” He shrugged, giving a faint smile. “I figured if I could make them believe the treasure was there and that I could take them to it . . .”
“It worked,” Sam said. Fisk was in custody. Ivan and Jak were dead. Alexandra had a small cut on her forehead from shrapnel but was otherwise unhurt.
Remi gave him a tired smile. “It was a good run. Getting that close to possibly solving the mystery of King John and his treasure.”
“It was. But, on the bright side, our schedule’s wide open. So where do you want to go on vacation?”
“I thought you had that all planned out?”
“I did, sort of. Where did we leave off?”
“Carmel.”
One of the investigators poked his head out of the tunnel entrance. The ivy had been pulled back and tied with a cord, giving them easy access. The investigator looked over, calling out to the two officers standing guard. They walked over, conversing quietly.
Remi leaned her head against Sam’s shoulder, watching them. “Nice shooting down there, by the way.”
“Likewise.”
One of the officers walked over, taking out his notebook. “About your pistols . . .”
“We have visitor permits for them,” Sam said. Handguns were prohibited in Great Britain. They’d confiscate theirs in a heartbeat, and Sam liked his Smith & Wesson. “They should be on file in London.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll pass on the information.” He walked back to inform the investigator.
Sam waited until he was out of earshot, telling Remi, “Remind me to call Rube as soon as we get out of here.” If anyone could pull strings to make permits magically appear in the files, Rube Hayward could.
Alexandra, finished with her statement, returned to the wall, sitting on the other side of Sam.
He looked over at her, curious. “You turned on Fisk. Why?”
She gave a cynical laugh as she reached up, touching the small bandage on her forehead that one of the paramedics had put there. “I never wanted anyone hurt. Ever. I only wanted to find this treasure to get back at Charles. And then . . .” She glanced at Remi. “I knew that once Fisk got what he wanted, they were going to kill me like I was nothing. And dump my body down there.” Her eyes teared up, and she brushed them with the back of her hand. “He was going to do the same to you. I just felt I had to take a stand. I wanted my two kids to know I finally did something right.” She gave a ragged sigh. “It doesn’t matter. Charles might not have the treasure, but he’ll get away with trying to kill us like he does everything else.”
“That,” Sam said, “we can probably do something about.”
“How?”
“Trust me,” he replied, thinking about the security reports Archer had been forwarding to him on Charles Avery. “I’ve got an entire team gathering evidence on him as we speak.”
“If you do find it—the treasure—do me a favor and send me a picture? I’d like to forward it to Charles.”
“Doesn’t seem likely now,” Sam said. “The map’s completely deciphered, and this was our best hope. We seem to be at a dead end.”
“Or a better location,” Remi added.
Eventually they were all escorted to the police station, where formal statements were made. Hours later, they were released, and by the time that Sam and Remi got back to their hotel room, they fell into bed, exhausted, not even bothering with dinner.
“We did it!”
The excitement in Lazlo’s voice was enough to bring Sam fully awake.
“Did what?” Remi asked.
“Finished the cipher.” Lazlo an
nounced. “In the castle rock. Beyond the den of the wolf’s head. The fourth chamber. Above death. Below death. With the last meal.”
Sam and Remi looked at each other, then turned back to the tablet and Lazlo’s beaming face. “Great,” Sam said. “Exactly what does it mean?”
“The location of the treasure,” Lazlo replied. “Except that first part.”
“First part?”
“We’re fairly sure it’s telling us it’s not at Robin Hood’s lair.”
“Would have been nice to know yesterday,” Sam said.
“So,” Remi said, “eliminating the Robin Hood connection, where does that leave us?”
“As vague as it is,” Selma replied, “we believe it means Newark Castle.”
“Newark Castle?” Remi glanced at Sam, then back at the tablet. “Why there?”
“The talk of death, chambers, and the last meal, it’s got to be talking about where King John died.”
“Sorry,” Sam said to Remi. “Looks like that vacation’s going to have to wait.”
Fifty-seven
The next day, Sam, Remi, and Nigel drove out to Newark under a dark sky that threatened more rain. They parked in the lot across the River Trent, the wind gusting as they walked across the bridge toward the imposing fortress. From this side, the castle appeared whole, but when they passed through to the other side, it was apparent that little remained of the once-impressive structure beyond the near-intact curtain wall along the riverbank, the gatehouse, a large hexagonal tower at the northwest corner, and a lower tower at the southwest end where King John was said to have died.
“Not much left,” Sam said as they looked around at the park-like grounds in what had at one time been the castle keep.
The wind whistled through the crumbling ruins, whipping at Remi’s hair. She nodded toward the lower, southeast tower. “My money’s where King John died. The riddle’s clearly talking about his death.”