Authors: Boyd Morrison
T
yler dragged Orr’s unconscious form down the stairs, one slow, painful step at a time. His chest injury barked at him, but he ignored the ache as best he could. Every fiber of his being wanted to stomp the life out of Orr for what the man had done to his father, but he had to keep Orr alive if he wanted to find Sherman, Carol, and the nuclear material.
“Get his bag,” Tyler said to Stacy. “We may not have much time.”
Orr’s feet slapped against the steps until Tyler laid him out at the bottom. Stacy dropped his bag next to Gaul’s. She turned and saw the motionless body.
“Oh, my God!” she cried when she saw the remains of Gaul’s shattered skull.
“Just try to ignore it.” Tyler had seen much worse in the Army. That didn’t make the sight any more pleasant, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. If Cavano had survived the explosion, she might arrive at the Midas chamber any minute, or Tyler and Stacy might run into her and her men on their way out. Neither option would end well if they didn’t have anything to negotiate with. They’d be just as dead as if Orr had done it himself.
Tyler might also find himself bargaining for Grant’s life if Cavano was holding him captive. The first step was to take stock of the chamber’s contents so that he could develop a plan.
He bound Orr’s wrists with the shoelaces from Gaul’s boots, then rifled through Orr’s pockets and took his Leatherman back. He tried checking Orr’s cell phone to see what numbers he had called, but the phone was password-protected. Tyler would have to get Aiden to crack it. He took the canteen from Orr’s belt and passed it to Stacy, who took a swig before giving it back.
As Tyler took a drink, Stacy asked, “How did you know that Orr was lying about my betraying you?”
Tyler wiped his mouth. “Two reasons. First, Orr knew how to find us at Piazza del Plebiscito. We went directly there from the well, and I was with you the whole time, so you had no chance to tell him where we were.”
How Orr had known the correct well could be found at San Lorenzo Maggiore was easier. It was the last well they had visited. Orr knew they would stop searching after they’d located it.
“And the second reason?” Stacy asked.
“He had us photograph your phone with the geolabe. I thought it was odd at the time, but later I realized that he made us do it because the geolabe tracker and your phone were in two separate locations.”
“My phone?” Stacy said with surprise.
“Mine was ruined when I got dunked in the river during the chase at Cavano’s estate. Did you misplace your phone anytime in the last few weeks?”
Stacy looked away for a moment as she thought, then whipped her head back around. “Last week I was eating at a restaurant and I couldn’t find my phone for about five minutes. A man sitting near me said he found it on the floor. At the time, I just thought it had slipped out of my purse.”
Tyler nodded. “That’s it. It only takes a few seconds to clone a SIM card. Orr had us duped from the very beginning, intentionally faking me out with the geolabe tracker. Then he used it to try to sow mistrust between us. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now, but I wanted to keep him off guard.”
“I understand,” Stacy said with a smile. “I’m just glad you had faith in me.”
She unzipped Gaul’s duffel and nearly dropped it when she spied what was inside.
“Look at that,” she said. Tyler saw three canisters of the binary explosive already connected to timing devices. It wasn’t enough to destroy the whole cavern, but with the proper placement it could bring down a large section of the ceiling.
“Orr must have been planning to blow the entrance once he’d secured the Midas Touch so that no one else could get in.”
“What a tragedy that would be.” She handed Tyler a SIG Sauer pistol she found inside. “You’ll probably want this.”
“Thanks.” He searched the rest of the bag, but with the Taser now in the water it was the only weapon available. Orr wasn’t carrying a gun, having put all his trust in the explosive belts.
Tyler opened Orr’s bag and saw the box with the golden hand inside. Next to it was a leather pouch. Tyler opened it to find an ancient book. The cover had no writing on it. He began to open it when Stacy stopped him.
“Don’t,” she said. “That’s the Archimedes Codex. It’s too fragile to handle. You might damage it more than Orr already has.”
Tyler put it back in the pouch. He inventoried the rest of the bag’s contents. Two full clear water bottles, one marked “Seawater” and the other marked “Fresh Water.” Two sets of heavy rubber gloves. An empty plastic Tupperware container. And an older model digital video camera already loaded with a tape.
“What’s that for?” Stacy said.
“If he was going to sell the Midas Touch, he’d want some clear evidence that he wasn’t simply giving his buyer a dud. So he was probably going to film the chamber and the Midas Touch in operation.”
Stacy nodded. “And when he got his sample, he’d show himself blowing up the only entrance to the chamber.”
“He definitely covers all the bases.”
Stacy looked at Orr’s bleeding face. “Not all of them.”
He handed the camera to Stacy. “Start filming.”
“Why?”
“When we get back to the surface, we’re going to need our own evidence to convince the Italian authorities that this really is down here.”
“All right,” Stacy said, “but I’m usually in front of the camera, not behind it.” She took the camera to the center of the pit, opened the screen, and started filming. First, she panned around the chamber, then focused on the statue and the pedestal. She was careful to steer clear of the boiling water churning in the pool along the base of the terrace.
Tyler hoisted Orr’s pack and started slapping his face.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
With a groan, Orr began to stir, so Tyler rose and pointed the SIG at him. Orr’s moan turned to a cry and his tied hands flew to his face.
“My eye! What did you do to me?”
“That’s your fault. Now get up.”
“I can’t!”
“Quit your whining. I’ve seen soldiers in battle continue fighting with wounds that make your injury look like a paper cut.”
Orr grimaced as he held his palm to his eye. “What do you want?”
“I want to know where my father and Carol Benedict are.”
“You’ll kill me if I tell you.”
“I’ll do worse if you don’t.”
Stacy was still filming the writing on the pedestal. “My God,” she said.
Tyler didn’t take his eyes off Orr. “What is it?”
“This tells Midas’s whole story. How he got here, the curse of the golden touch, everything. Good God! This statue is his daughter.”
“Midas probably wanted to spend eternity with her likeness.”
“No, this isn’t a statue
of
his daughter. This statue
is
his daughter. The writing says that he turned her to gold on purpose after she died to preserve her body for all time.”
Tyler backed up so that he could keep an eye on Orr while he looked at the statue. She had been posed lying down, with her arms at her sides, a beautiful girl perhaps fourteen years old. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the pain in her face. She wore a robe that was just as golden as she was, and her left hand was sawed cleanly from her wrist.
“Document everything. Tell me the rest of the story later.”
Tyler went back over to Orr and gave him a light kick. “I think it’s time we introduced ourselves to Midas. Come with me.”
Orr staggered to his feet, his hands still covering his eye. Tyler nodded toward the stairs. Orr trudged over and climbed toward Midas’s coffin. Stacy followed them and continued to film.
When they got to the top of the terrace, Tyler stopped, shocked at what the sarcophagus had hidden from view up to this point. A skeleton lay on the floor, still clad in shirt, jeans, and shoes, the bones a spotless white, the clothes dis-integrating. The skull was fractured.
Tyler remembered the story Cavano had told him about the fight between the men. One of them got his head bashed in. The other died after touching the body of Midas and falling into the water.
“This one of the men who chased you?” Tyler asked Orr.
He nodded.
“Here’s the other one,” Stacy said, pointing over the side of the terrace.
Tyler looked down and saw a body at the bottom of the roiling pool. Like the girl, this corpse had been transformed into solid gold, clothes and all.
Stacy got a shot of both the body and the skeleton. “Why did the guy in the water turn to gold but this one didn’t?”
“Because he wasn’t exposed to the Midas Touch and then submerged in the hot spring,” Tyler said. “And in this heat the bacteria inside the skeleton guy’s body had a smorgasbord once he died. He probably rotted away in a couple of months.”
“Then the walls couldn’t have turned to gold on their own.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Orr said. “Midas did it before he died. He must have touched the walls and then sprayed them with the water from the hot spring.”
Tyler thought about the golden tendrils at the entrance. That would explain why the gold petered out there.
“There’s only one way to find out if you’re right,” Tyler said. He pointed to the corner. “Now go over there and kneel with your hands on your head.” Orr hesitated. “Do it!”
Orr complied and got on his knees. His right eye was now swollen shut. He kept the good one intently focused on them. Tyler had no doubt that he was just waiting to take any opportunity to gain the upper hand, and a small part of Tyler wished he would try.
“Make one move and I’ll kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Orr said. “You need me alive.”
“Okay. I’ll shoot you in the kneecaps. So stay there if you ever want to walk without a limp.”
Orr said nothing, but he understood. Tyler turned back to the coffin, but he adjusted his position to make sure he kept Orr in his sight the entire time.
The sarcophagus rested on a golden support platform about three feet high near the edge of the terrace above the boiling pool. Tyler ran his hand over the intricately carved lid. Something felt odd, and he pressed into the gold. Instead of the hard metal surface he was expecting, it gave under his push.
He had been considering how to open the lid. If it had been solid gold, it would have weighed hundreds of pounds. But now he realized that the coffin wasn’t pure gold. It was made of wood. The gold leaf was merely a protective covering.
Tyler unfolded his Leatherman knife and drew it across the platform supporting the wooden sarcophagus. Gold flaked off in several spots, revealing tuff underneath.
Stacy knelt to get a better look, focusing the camera on the slash. “So the pedestal, the walls—everything is just gold leaf?”
“Apparently only organic substances are completely transformed into gold, and even then they would have to be completely submerged in the hot spring for a significant length of time. That would explain why the coffin is only gold leaf. The only substantial amount of gold in this room is in the two dead bodies.”
“As I told you,” Orr said, still on his knees in the corner, “the real value is the Midas Touch itself.”
“Yes, you told me,” Tyler said. “Good for you.”
“Should we see if it really works?” Stacy asked.
Tyler nodded, handing one set of the rubber gloves from Orr’s pack to Stacy. “We’ll need to be careful. Remember, according to Cavano the drug runner was poisoned by whatever he touched in the coffin.”
They put the gloves on. The lid wasn’t hinged, so they lifted it from either end and leaned it against the side.
The mummified corpse of King Midas grinned at them, the skin stretched taught over his leathery withered cheeks. He was wrapped in regal purple robes, and a gold crown adorned with rubies and sapphires capped his head. One desiccated hand lay across his chest, but the other was twisted at his side. Each finger was encircled with a magnificent gold and jeweled ring.
Orr and Cavano’s pursuer must have grabbed the hand, eager to take the rings off, but when he brushed against Midas’s skin, he released the hand before he could remove the rings, and the lid dropped back down.
Orr strained to see. “Is it Midas?”
“He’s here, all right,” Tyler said. “In the flesh, so to speak.”
“He must have spent months or years preparing this chamber and ordered his loyal servants to place him here after his death,” Stacy said. “Then they closed up the chamber behind them.”
Tyler rummaged through the sack and took out the two full water bottles.
He needed an object to test. He turned and saw the skeleton of the Italian drug runner, whose shoes were still intact. The nylon shoelaces would be perfect. Tyler untied one of the shoes and unlaced it.
He took both ends and rubbed them on Midas’s hand.
“Open the bottles,” Tyler said. Stacy started with the seawater bottle.
Tyler dipped the shoelace into the water while Stacy filmed. Within seconds, a blush of gold encrusted the tip of the lace. They repeated the steps with the gold-bearing fresh water. This time the effect was even greater, because the solution had a stronger concentration of gold than the seawater. Tyler took the golden lace out and marveled as the water dripped from it.
Stacy gaped at it. “My God! It works!”
“Incredible,” Tyler said. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself, and he knew others might feel the same.
“Let’s take a sample to test when we get back,” he said. “Take that Tupperware container out and open it.” Stacy hadn’t yet touched anything, so her gloves were clean.
While she got the container, Tyler took a breath and ripped Midas’s hand off, rings and all. He dropped it in the empty container, and Stacy put the lid back on. He removed his gloves as carefully as he could to avoid exposure to the microbes and set them aside. Stacy took her gloves off as well.
Tyler held up the laces for Orr to see. “This is what you were searching for,” he said. “I hope it drives you nuts coming so close and not getting it.”
“Nothing has changed except for who’s holding the gun,” Orr said. “We can still make a deal for the information you want.”