Authors: Dayna Rubin
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Suspended in the Trapped Light; Opalescent
Stepping through the opening, Warren immediately saw that there were several tunnels, each leading in a different direction. Puddles of water, some deeper than others, captured his feet as he moved, reluctant to let go.
He hesitated briefly at the place where there had previously been a solid wall, ran his fingers along the wall, looking for an indication of what had formerly been there, impeding them, but was unable to find it and moved on.
As he trudged through the tunnel, the air became condensed and sharp, making it more difficult to breath. This tunnel was significantly wider than the others were, and was also marked by the occasional hag stone, similar to what they had found in the cave.
Shining his flashlight toward the darkened interior, he didn’t see any sign of Philippe or Pascal. Although energized by the prospect of finding the paintings, Warren halted his progress and backtracked to the central location where the tunnels split off.
Releasing a short breath, Warren looked around him for some sign as to which direction they might have taken. Finding their footsteps outlined in the shallow mud upon directing the light of his flashlight downward he called out, “Philippe!” and then again, “Pascal!”
Warren flicked his flashlight down each of the other two tunnels, then walked a few feet down one of the passages. This tunnel narrowed considerably, the space a little wider than the span of his shoulders.
“Where could they have gone?” Warren muttered when he heard a voice behind him.
“Checking back…you obviously believe you have the right path,” Philippe said as he leveled his flashlight at Warren’s face.
Warren pushed the offending flashlight away as he replied, “Yes, I believe I have.” Taking a step back from them he asked, “Where were you…did you find something?”
Without answering, Philippe tossed a coin into the air; its surface glinted as it caught the light from their flashlights.
Warren reached out, catching the coin as it began its descent. Turning the coin over after feeling its weight, Warren was able to determine the origins.
“This coin is from the collection known to have been part of the Holy Roman Regalia, the crown jewels were recovered, but the royal treasure, including the Holy Lance of Destiny, was never found. It was purported to have been lost at sea, sunk off the coast of Florida when Hitler had it shipped off in anticipation of an ambush.
“That means the paintings must be here…or something must have been moved to this location, if not the paintings!” Philippe exclaimed.
“Where did you find this coin?” Warren asked.
“Right here where we are standing,” Philippe replied.
“Since there are only three tunnels, and you just returned from one, and have already returned from venturing down another, then you must believe the last tunnel, the one that I had just entered prior to having to backtrack to retrieve both of you, is the correct form of entry?”
“Yes, the other two joined and lead to a dead end,” Pascal replied directly.
Philippe glanced at his cousin in irritation, “What are we wasting time standing around and discussing where this coin might have come from? Let’s go!” Philippe said, then brushed past Warren, leading the way into the widest of the dark tunnels.
Warren began to protest, but instead thrust the coin into his pocket and redirected the light of his flashlight forward, licking his lips as he did so, tasting the salt that hung in the air.
Walking deeper into the tunnel, the challenging pools of mud changed and instead began to crunch under their feet. The sound of water dripping was accented only by the scuffing of feet as they descended.
“Watch your head, the ceiling dips pretty low down here,” Philippe called out as he grabbed onto one of the beams bracing the wall, and then stumbled onto a set of stairs molded out of the earthen floor, encrusted with salt.
Warren ducked his head as he descended, concentrating on positioning his feet on the thick white covered steps, being careful not to slip, he too gripped the beams as he worked his way down.
Finally reaching the base, he straightened himself up, nearly colliding with Philippe and Pascal who had waited for him while trying to brush off the moist salt that clung to their face and hands.
“Should we see what’s down here gentlemen?” Philippe asked. They shone their flashlights outward, into the vast darkness. An involuntary intake of air resounded as they took in their surroundings. Dozens of various sized white cubes filled the cave.
“This must have been a salt mine…the ideal location for housing and storing paintings!” Warren exclaimed.
Rushing forward, Warren approached one of the wooden crates, wrestling the salt encrusted lid off; he released a cloud of sparkling dust that hung in the air around him, creating a mesmerizing halo. Pulling out the first picture, Warren was at a loss for words, his breathing had become labored because of the dense salt, but now also, because of the magnitude of the revelation, all he could manage was to hold the painting out before him in awe.
“This is a glorious sight to behold, beyond my wildest dreams!” Warren’s exclamation dropped off into a whisper. “Look at this…the actual Salvatore Mundi by Leonardo DaVinci. It has only been described until now, never actually seen!”
Philippe stopped his own pilgrimage of a crate to behold the image of Warren as he made his discovery. They had positioned their flashlights into the thick salt, which rested in mounds and drifts at their feet, the beams of light cut into the crystallized mist, swirling around Warren.
Upon opening each crate they found that each picture inside was individually wrapped, packed tightly to allow many to fit within the small space.
Moving from box to box, they threw open the lids, finding paintings contained in all, some scantily covered with lace curtains yellowed with age and some wrapped in portions of what appeared to be sheepskin coats, all of which was wrapped again in wax paper to both repel water and guard against poisonous gasses.
Pascal negotiated his flashlight along the foot-thick wall of cement, the salt sparkling like ice crystals in the light.
“It’s all making sense now…the paintings were switched, the originals sent away into hiding so that they could be saved. This one…this painting I’m holding…that I’ve just pulled out of the crate, is the Portrait of Caterina de Medici, here’s another, a landscape drawing of Fontainebleau by August Renoir, and another An Autumnal Landscape by Edgar Degas…this is incredible…!”
Philippe looked on as Warren continued to name each painting and drawing, exclaiming with each find before setting them aside to reach in to find another. His face in a state of exuberant, wondrous joy.
Going back to the crate where he had begun to remove the lid, Philippe said, “Let’s see what we’ve got here, Pascal.”
They wrestled the lid off together, the sparkling mist hovered around them as Philippe scraped off a plaque that rested on the top of another box resting just inside the crate. Reading aloud he began, “Gans collection of Roman gold objects.”
Warren immediately broke off from his activities to join them. He reached in to pull out each of the objects. “Thirty-two pieces of gold are in this collection…missing up until now! This is where the coin must have come from!” He exclaimed.
“And this…” Philippe reached into the box to remove the Holy Lance of Destiny.
“The telltale signs of this sword being the original is the tip is missing. It had been broken off…” Warren said as he took the offered sword from Philippe.
“Yes! Natanya lead us to these paintings that would have remained hidden forever!” Philippe exclaimed as he watched Warren examine the sword.
Pascal, Philippe and Warren stood together at the crate, and chorused, “We really did it!” The cousins embraced quickly as Warren raised the sword in a triumphant salute, then they all broke into laughter.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Vague Linear Spots
“That’s her, that’s the one who’s here under false pretenses, using another employee’s I.D., and has compromised the safety of the United States government!” Teri stated boldly, pointing at Natanya seated at the conference table.
The security team had come upon them in an instant. They had let their guard down, become too secure, too comfortable, they realized that now.
“I have orders to remove an individual from the premises for not utilizing the proper channels of authority as set forth within the provisions…”
The security staffer was cut off by Gage, “Save it, we know. We’re going. It’s really not a big deal, I’ve brought someone in for the day. You guys know how it is…no big deal,” Gage put his hands in his pockets and glanced down to the floor for a second and then looked up, smiling a crooked smile with his head tilted to the side.
“Oh, right…well, you still have to follow protocol, so, ahh…you gotta take her out of the building. You know, we could get into some pretty serious trouble if this were to get out that someone could sneak in past our security team.”
“Looks like I’m getting drinks from all of you,” Teri commented, looking pretty pleased. “Um, that would be seven drinks plus an appetizer you can all split. A girl shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.”
“You mean a cougar…” Dauphine murmured as she rolled her eyes while Natanya tried to adapt a look devoid of concern, but looked anything but that as she sat fidgeting with the corner of the papers on the desk.
Gage picked up his backpack from the lab, stuffed it with the laptop and pile of papers from the table, unconcerned as to how they ended up, slung it over one shoulder and walked back out to the waiting security guards.
There were four security guards in total, two had come in through the lab, and two had come in through the conference room. They had closed both doors, standing in front of them awkwardly waiting for Dauphine, Natanya and Gage to gather their belongings, shrugging whenever one of them made eye contact.
Gage said he would need to turn off the equipment and darted into the lab, but was back in a flash to accompany them out the door.
The boots of the Security Guards fell heavily onto the floor, thudding alongside the light click of Dauphine and Natanya’s high heels as they lightly touched the floor.
“They’re working on some top secret art caper in there, I saw it,” Teri whispered to one of the security guards, flouncing her medium length red hair to the side, trying too hard to be enticing and coming off as anything but that. Her tiny teeth dwarfed within a large expanse of gum, which she flashed at each of the guards as they walked along.
“Yeah, didn’t you hear something about an art theft and some woman wanted for questioning?” One of the security guards asked.
“Oh, yeah, I did, she hasn’t come forward for a couple of days, the other guard replied as they all stood in front of the elevator.
Natanya found herself blushing under the sudden and intense scrutiny of one of the guards. She tried to concentrate on only viewing the progress of the elevator, indicated by the lighted numbers over the doors, but became even more self-conscious. Feeling for her purse, which usually hung from her left shoulder, she realized she didn’t have one with her, just Dauphine’s passport inside her suit jacket, and gave up trying to throw attention off herself, and looked straight ahead once again.
The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. Two of the guards entered the elevator while the other two stayed on that floor, one of whom, seemed to enjoy the attention he was receiving from Teri, who was practically pushing herself into his arms while she whispered her secrets. The other guards seemed to be concentrating on Natanya, taking in her height and appearing to scan her facial features, hair, and clothing for future use.
One of the guards continued to stare at her as the doors slowly closed, his close-cropped hair revealing his scalp underneath.
Gage was making small talk with Dauphine about other projects they had ahead of them when Natanya touched Gage’s forearm gently, looked pointedly at the security guard staring her down from outside the elevator doors, the one who had been keeping up on the news about the alleged art theft at the National Gallery.
Gage continued his animated conversation with Dauphine. Pausing to give an occasional smile, he said to the guards, “Ah, I shouldn’t be talking about top secret, high clearance information in front of anyone, but you guys are all right…you have clearance.”
Once in the parking garage, they waved good-bye to the Security Officers and proceeded to Gage’s car.
“Smile…everyone smile…and wave again to our very nice security guards as we drive by,” Gage said.
“What a close call that was!” Wow, I’m pretty sure if it was the other crew, we would have been asked to do far more than leave the building,” Dauphine slipped her shoes off in the passenger seat to tuck her feet underneath her light frame, then unclipped her hair so that she could lay her head back against the seat. It cascaded around her, falling in drifts upon the headrest.
“Don’t relax yet, I think one of the guards is on to us.”
“I definitely do too! If you could see the way he looked at me! I wasn’t sure if he wanted to have me on the tray of appetizers or skewer me over hot coals. Either way, he was intent on discovering why I was there, and why I had your I.D. badge.” Natanya stared out the window then shook her head, bit her lip, and forced back tears.
“He knows, Gage, I really think he knows who I am and why I’m hiding. We can’t go back,” Natanya’s voice started to fade as her throat began to constrict.
“Hey…it’s going to be all right. I agree, I think if he hasn’t figured it out, he will within a very short time.” Gage gave Natanya a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Dauphine closed her eyes, rolled her head toward Gage, “Where are we going…if they’re onto us, we can’t go to any of our homes…” Dauphine sighed heavily, then sat up quickly, “We have to meet with our contact to give him the next batch of information!”
“I’m on it. We’re going to the international news station affiliate right now, we can’t risk phone contact, so I have to deliver it in person.”
The National Gallery is where they decided to hide the paintings? Why? I can’t believe it…how do you think we can get there to find out?” Dauphine asked Gage as he parked in the lot of the news station.
“Wait her, leave the car running just in case, I’ll be right back,” Gage instructed.
“Right,” Dauphine replied, scooting into the driver’s seat.
Natanya saw that Gage had placed his backpack next to her on the back seat, and pulled out the information on the last painting they broke the code on, the Mona Lisa.
It was dark now, but the parking lot was well lit. Natanya’s lower lip was swollen from biting it so many times, and she pressed her fingers to it, remembering the last impassioned kiss from Philippe as she did so.
“I can’t stand not hearing from them! You know, Philippe, Warren and Pascal.” Natanya said to Dauphine, “Well, actually, I don’t mind not hearing from Pascal.”
“We’re switching cars,” Gage abruptly opened the driver’s door. “Hurry, grab the backpack Natanya!”
Dauphine leaned forward to fish out her shoes from the floor of the passenger seat as Gage reached in, grasped the keys in the ignition and turned off the engine, pocketing the keys as he quickly surveyed the vehicle to see if there was anything else they would need to take with them.
Purse and shoes in hand, Dauphine walked barefoot behind Gage, who got into the drivers side of the SUV. Scooting around the front of the car, Dauphine hopped into the passenger seat and Natanya seated herself in the back, the backpack tucked safely next to her.
“The album!” Natanya gasped as she remembered she had left it in the lab.
“I remembered, don’t worry. I went back to get it when I said I had to shut everything off,” Gage smiled warmly at Natanya in the rearview mirror.
“Good, that’s good. That you saved it, I mean… If that fell into the wrong hands, we would have had a lot to answer for.”
“We’re in for a nice leisurely drive to Washington D.C. ladies, but first, what do you feel like eating? I’m starving.”
“Are you one of those people who can eat, drive, and talk on the phone at the same time?” Natanya asked.
“He is, I’ve seen him do it,” Dauphine answered for him.
“I can work on deciphering the signatures to find out who some of these other paintings belong to while we drive,” Natanya volunteered.
“If you can do that, that’s great. I become carsick when I try to read or look at something for too long while I’m riding in a car,” Dauphine said.
“This is interesting…” Natanya commented.
“What’s that?” Dauphine asked as she looked out the window.
“This is the second Old Master I have encountered that has the signatures of another artist forged over it. A painting that has been created by another artist entirely. It’s like they played mix and match.”
“Why would they do that?” Gage asked Natanya, glancing at her from the rear view mirror.
“The paintings are listed under the Artist and their title, but if they don’t list the title, but instead list the properties within the painting and another artist, it makes it difficult, if not impossible to trace it.”
“Or, if Hitler, Goering, or one of the Nazi Dealers were trying to acquire a certain painting, it would be like hiding it in plain sight,” Dauphine offered.
“That’s right, creating a false artist signature serves two purposes, one, to throw off the looters, and two, to mark the painting as to whom it belongs,” Natanya stated.
“Here’s a little restaurant we can stop at where they won’t alert the authorities in case they’ve put an all-points bulletin out for us,” Gage said.