Read Agent with a History Online

Authors: Guy Stanton III

Tags: #thriller suspense, #action adventure, #thriller adventure, #dystopian climate change romance genetic manipulation speculative post apocalyptic, #romance action adventure, #dystopian adventure, #dystopian teen ya young adult romance love conspiracy government

Agent with a History (15 page)

His eyes were gentle, but firm as he finished
his perfect delineation of just who I was. My hands shook and
twisted together in my lap. He’d known all along who I was! He knew
too much! Why did it have to be like this!

“I…...” his hand was tugging on my arm
interrupting me and I looked up with pain filled eyes to meet his
honest gaze.

“I didn’t play you! I’ve been nothing but
honest with you from the beginning. I didn’t want you to become
involved in this, but fate intervened. I suspected it was you, as
you matched the description I had, which your father later
confirmed. If your father hadn’t started hacking people up I doubt
I would have ever crossed paths with you. I was content to leave
you alone Lisa. You have to believe me!”

And somehow, I did believe him.

“Now, unbuckle that seatbelt and scoot over
here.”

My fingers, seemingly of a mind all of their
own, unbuckled the harness and he more or less pulled me to his
side and folded an arm around me securely. I pressed my face to his
shoulder liking his smell. Once again, he was security and a calm
place in the storm of my life.

“If I were true to the traditions of my past
I should kill you right now, as I doubt very little now that you
won’t find the treasure.” I said, softly against his neck.

I watched as he pulled a knife out from
somewhere and offered it to me handle first. I pushed it away and
he chuckled kissing the top of my head.

“Does this mean that you have caved into my
magnetic charm and are now as malleable as clay in my fingers?” He
said in a Machiavellian tone.

I smiled, “Not quite. I’m still not telling
you what I know.”

His fingers squeezed my shoulder, “And I’ll
never ask you to.”

There was silence in the companionable
atmosphere of the plane for a while.

“You didn’t finish your story. Where do you
think the treasure is?”

“Ahh, the curious little bird wants to know
everything. Better put, I know where the treasure came from, but
I’m less sure of where it is. To find the source of the treasure
you have to go back to Solomon again and the treasure convoy that
he received. Now, as I said before there isn’t a source of gold in
the Ethiopian area capable of producing the kind of wealth talked
about in Solomon’s time, where silver was considered worthless
because gold was so plentiful. So I looked where else could such a
limitless supply of gold have come from. The most likely place was
West Africa, which is known as the gold coast. The gold is mostly
alluvial, so it would have been easily mined. Mali, where we’re
heading right now, situated on the Congo River, was the epicenter
of this rich trade in the old days. Back then, present day Mali was
known as Ghana. There was a caravan trail known as the ‘Gold and
Salt Road’ that led up through the Sahara toward lower Egypt, aka
Kush. I’m positive that this caravan’s trail, as well as maritime
trade via the Phoenicians and possibly the tribe of Dan, was where
the wealth of both Solomon and the kingdom of Kush originated from.
Now, to help back this theory up that the Hebrews knew where their
gold was coming from. A man by the name of Za Alayaman founded the
Za dynasty in Ghana. The dynasty had many kings, but what’s
fascinating is that they claimed to be of Hebrew origin. The
members of this Za dynasty claimed descendence from the tribe of
Dan, and they kept up this lucrative caravan trade route of gold
and salt long after Solomon was gone. As to the origin of these
Danities coming to Ghana, they said that they came from the Lower
Egypt area, which was the Kingdom of Kush. This goes to show that
there was a heavy Jewish influence in that kingdom. This dynasty
stretched out for a very long time, until in 1050 AD the fifteenth
king Za Kusoy converted to Islam, mostly based out of a need to
ensure the security of the lucrative trade routes, as the lands
north and south of the Sahara had come under Islamic control. Now I
don’t think the treasure is in modern day Mali, but what I’m hoping
for is to find clues as to the actual trade route and possibly the
destination points in Kush that will help me track down the flow of
gold. So, I think the treasure is in Ethiopia or near it, but I’m
not sure where, which puts me at a decided disadvantage with your
father and anyone he might team up with.”

Flint fell silent and I straightened up a
little, but I kept his arm around me, liking the secure weight of
it. I turned my head to see him studying me indepthly and I flushed
a little at the intentness of his look.

“Could you please answer one question of
mine?” He asked softly and I didn’t say no, so he took that as a
yes.

“Do you really have the Queen of Sheba’s
blood in you?”

I stared into his eyes seeing the genuiness
of his question on a deeply personal level; I nodded and breathed
out a, “Yes.”

“Seeing you explains why Solomon went so nuts
over her. You’re so beautiful! I think you only improved on her
good image.”

A little embarrassed, I ducked my head down,
“I wouldn’t say that.” I mumbled softly.

“I would!” He said, just before he pulled my
head back up to kiss me. Drawing back after a while he husked out,
“I wish the Earth would just open up and swallow this treasure of
yours so we could just move on past this!”

“Why don’t you just give this quest up? The
treasures remained hidden for so long it’s doubtful that it will
ever be found. Just give up looking for it and let the other
players in this game spend their time and money looking for it
uselessly!”

“I can’t!”

“Why?” I implored.

“Because of something that’s come up.” He
said stubbornly.

I shook my head, “Flint, if you think my
father is any closer to finding the treasure than anyone else who’s
looking for it, you’re wrong! The treasure is safe! You don’t have
to worry about it. You can stop looking for it.”

Flint shook his head no as his hand grip on
the flight stick tightened.

I sat back angrily from him, “You can’t or
won’t stop looking for it? Have you been lying to me? Are you
really after it for yourself like everyone else?”

His head turned to me and I could see just
how angry my words had made him, but I was angry too!

“Can’t!” was all he bit out.

“Why?” I asked forcefully jerking his head
back around to me.

He seemed to explode; “Because I love you!”
he said explosively.

Stunned, I stared at him in a sort of dazed
shock. Had he really just said that? I knew he wanted me, even
liked me, but love? Love meant so much more. Love meant commitment,
babies, forever!

He must have read my look of surprise wrong,
because he continued on angrily and his next words proved that he
loved me.

“This treasure isn’t measured in millions or
even billions! It’s in the high trillions, perhaps more! What do
you think will happen, when any of the players involved find out
the significance of the part you play in finding the treasure? They
will torture you in ways you have never imagined! They’ll break you
and you’ll tell them everything you know! And even then they won’t
let you die. They’ll keep you alive like a lab rat, as they try to
isolate some kind of smartness gene that can be traced back to
Solomon and just like your father I bet you’ve hardly ever had a
sick day in your life! What do you think your liver alone is worth
on the black market of gene and organ therapy treatments? They’ll
steal your treasure and then whatever secrets your body has.
They’ll justify everything they do to you by their own screwed up
wacko reasoning that the ends justify the means! They’ll do all
that and more to you unless I can make such a mess of destroying
the treasure that everyone will firmly believe that it’s out of
play forever and that you went with it!”

Touched beyond words could ever express, I
stared at him thoughtfully.

“What did they do to you?” I asked
softly.

“Enough!” was all he said.

“Flint?”

He looked at me, emotion still high in his
face, “I love you too and because I love you and trust you more
than anyone else I’m going to tell you something. Remember what you
said earlier about wishing that the Earth would open up and swallow
the treasure?”

He nodded, studying me carefully, “Well,
something like that will happen to the treasure, if they try to
take it.”

He looked at me, puzzled. “You’re actually
giving me a hint?”

I shook my head no, “Consider it a warning, a
sort of heads up when the time comes, if it comes. One more thing,
run left. Everyone else will run right, but you need to run left.
That is very important!”

He nodded, “Thank you Lisa, I’m not sure for
what, but I thank you. Now get back over here!”

I let my face assume a regal pose and my
voice deepened. “Do you presume to command a Queen?”

His eyes lit up in an entirely different way,
“Now that is down right sexy! But yes, in answer to your question,
dear Candace, I do so presume!”

I giggled as he scooted me back across the
seat against him.

 

Chapter Fourteen
Frustration

We landed in the late afternoon on the Congo
itself. I was surprised to soon see a motor boat cut out from the
shoreline and head out toward us. I glanced at Flint, but he didn’t
seem to be alarmed by the boat’s approach and then I saw why.

The boats occupants were Tyre and Galloway. I
might have known these two would show up again. Tyre had traded in
his Dick Tracey fedora for a weather beaten hat straight out of
Indiana Jones. One couldn’t deny the fact that the man liked his
hats. Galloway, in true typical American fashion, was wearing a
baseball cap with John Deer emblazoned across it in green
lettering. A little less obvious might have been helpful, but
Galloway wasn’t going to pull off being anything other than what he
was, which was a rowdy country loving southern boy rebel at
heart.

Tyre on the other hand, he pulled off secret
agent man rather well, I thought. He had no accent not even so much
as an inflection of speech. His features were slightly Eurasian in
appearance, which had me placing him in the northern Europe region
as a place of origin, but in truth I had no idea.

He must be a lover of American film cinema,
if his stylish get ups were anything to go by. When the boat
reached us they moved out of it onto one of the pontoons and then,
surprisingly, began to switch places with us.

I overheard Flint ask Tyre, “The competition
arrive yet?”

“Several members, most notably the CIA, but
they’re not who you have to worry about. The homegrown boys know
we’re here and they’re closing in fast.” Tyre responded.

How did that bit of information regarding the
CIA being added to the list of tomb robbers not surprise me?

I stepped down into the boat and Galloway
called out, “Good luck, you two!” Flint waved and we moved off from
the plane, as it roared back to life.

I looked at the little plane rather fondly as
it took off. I’d had love expressed toward me in that little plane
and now as I glanced at Flint’s strong features in the evening
shadows, I just hoped I’d get to experience a lifetime to go along
with this new found love. I prayed that it would be so.

Flint pulled the boat alongside the muddy
bank and pushed me into the shallows, as he quickly followed after
me, letting the boat drift away down the river. Together we slogged
up the bank and started walking out over the barren plain with
nothing in sight.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, not liking
the idea of walking the African plains in this unstable area in
either broad daylight or by moonlight.

We ambled down into a depression that had
some shrubbery and I was starting to wonder if I was going to get
an answer, when Flint lifted the edge of a sand camouflaged canopy
tarp and flicked it back to reveal a British Landover type jeep,
which instantly made me feel better.

Once we were in it Flint opened a sack and
handed me a plastic bag. “Allow me to present your dinner, your
highness.”

I wrinkled up my face distastefully, when I
realized it was a military ration pack. He just laughed and started
driving, “You never answered my question?”

He glanced over, “You have your secrets and I
have mine.”

He couldn’t be serious? I saw his mouth
twitch slightly and then I knew he was playing me. I socked him in
the shoulder.

“Ouch! You’re mean!”

“Oh shut up you wussie and spill the
beans!”

“You just told me to shut up and I’m supposed
to tell you anything?”

I raised my fist again and he chuckled. “I
know where three of the old caravan stops are.”

“Three?” I glanced at him, surprised.

“That’s right, three. Your father was only
told of two. Ahmed and Phillip came to the conclusion quickly that
your father wasn’t to be trusted, especially when it concerned
money. They outlined out their first two discoveries in great
detail, but said they were ambushed by a group of raiders, when
they tried to go on, which was only partly true. They were ambushed
on the way back from the third site, not going to it, as they had
told your father. Your father, deeming the expedition a waste of
his time, refused to pay the survivors what he had agreed to and
told the two men if they told anyone of what they had been hunting
for that their lives would be forfeit. The two men split and went
dark for a few years and then, as they had planned, they started to
get ready to return to the third caravan stop, but fate intervened.
Phillip got in trouble and to bargain his way out, he leaked what
he knew of the treasure to outsiders. Ahmed, well Ahmed found love
and was content with what he had in life without risking everything
to go back.”

“Flint, the treasure is not at this caravan
stop.”

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