THE ROOSEVELT CONSPIRACY Page 4

  “Neat,” Jack said, glancing at Bull. “That’s fitting.”

  “What is?”

  Jack tipped his chin at the dash and took another sip of his coffee.

  “The song.” He grinned. “You are, in a way, ‘rolling us away.’”

  Bull stayed silent and focused on the road, but not before changing the song.

  Laughing softly, Jack returned his attention to his coffee and the meaning of the song. The tune was more appropriate than most. It told of travel and adventure—of sunrises and sunsets. It was the perfect anthem for Jack and Bull’s relationship. Even though they worked together, they also adventured together regularly. It was the thing he loved the most about being a park ranger. He loved the adventure it supplied. Unfortunately, when there was a combination of adventure and Jack Reilly, there also was a good chance of stumbling into trouble.

  4

  Cascade, Wyoming

  An ominous cloud descended over Cascade, centering itself over Hawk Durham’s quaint home. His hands shook, but not because of the stormy premonition. Like anywhere else in the country, signs of storms came and went with nothing to speak of. Hawk wasn’t anxious because of a significant weather phenomenon. He was nervous about the call he was about to make.

  I can’t believe Nina is in the hospital!

  He had received a text over a day ago from one of Nina’s friends. It was short and stated that she had been attacked by someone after work while in her home. It meant that Nina had company with someone and had kept it from Hawk. He growled at the thought of her cheating on him again.

  Hmmm... Hawk didn’t like the timing of everything. That was the night we were cleaning out her grandfather’s place. He didn’t believe in coincidences. The discovery of the Roosevelt letter had somehow led to Nina’s assault. The two were somehow related—he knew it!

  I need answers. He took a deep breath. I need to see Nina and get to the bottom of this.

  His thumb hovered an inch above the third option on his speed dial list. The name was just two letters: BB, the Black Buffalo. The first and second telephone numbers belonged to Nina and his uncle. He planned to visit Nina in the hospital for lunch in an hour, but he needed to call off work to do that. There was no way he was going in at noon like he was supposed to. He couldn’t face Creed or Zietz. He was too afraid that he’d end up like Nina.

  Tatanka was on his way into town with his friend, Jack. Hawk had heard rumors about the other man’s past from his uncle. Whenever he pushed his uncle for more information, he had always found something better to talk about. His uncle's avoidance of any answers told Hawk that Jack had seen sobering action.

  He tapped the call icon and placed the phone to his ear.

  The young woman who picked up should’ve been Nina. But it wasn’t. It was a temp, and someone he had never met. The sound of the other girl’s voice startled him, causing his voice to quake as he spoke.

  “H—hi, this is Chatan Durham.” He added a cough. “I’m not feeling well today. I’m going to stay home and see if I can shake this thing off.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Durham.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he replied, nervously biting his lip. “I’m going to try to get some more sleep. Maybe I can, you know, come in for a little while later tonight if I’m feeling better.”

  “Very good, Mr. Durham. I’ll pass the unfortunate news on to Mr. Creed. Get well soon.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He quickly hung up and tossed his phone away like it was infected with the Black Death. He stared at the plagued device for a few seconds before picking it back up.

  Crap, he thought to himself.

  He quickly texted Shannon.

  “What happened two nights ago?”

  It took her a moment to get back to him. But finally, she did. “Nothing weird.”

  He ground his teeth. “I’d say Nina getting hospitalized after a night of drinking with you and Monica counts as ‘weird.’”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I meant that nothing weird happened while we were together.”

  “It’s fine,” Hawk typed, calming down some. “Can you tell me what happened before Nina left work?”

  “Sure, yeah,” she wrote back. “We were just talking, you know?”

  “About what?” Hawk asked. He needed to know.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Please, Shannon. Try to remember.”

  “Okay, fine. Let me think.”

  Thirty seconds of nothing. Then, she hit Hawk with a gunshot.

  “Oh! Something about a letter you guys found.”

  “Shit,” Hawk said, standing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  If people at the Black Buffalo knew about the letter, then it could’ve been someone there that had attacked Nina last night. There was only one man that Hawk knew of that would do something like that.

  “Zietz.”

  And if Zietz was involved, then Creed was too. Hawk had landed himself in serious trouble, and it all centered around—

  “Treasure,” Hawk said, opening the piece of paper.

  His eyes went straight to the signature at the bottom.

  Theodore Roosevelt.

  “Incredible,” he muttered, rereading the only comprehensible words for the eighth time. It was just a trio of short sentences. But it spoke volumes.

  Hawk read it out loud.

  “‘A wealth of a nation.’”

  His eyes scanned the next text.

  “‘The seven rest in the bear’s womb.’”

  The last thing Roosevelt wrote concerned Hawk. It wasn’t what he expected to hear from the famed explorer.

  “‘Do I reveal it?’” He knit his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Teddy?”

  A knock at the door nearly made Hawk empty his bladder. He quickly got up from his bed and rushed into his living room. He owned a small house which was better than most people had at his age. Hawk’s job at the casino paid well enough, and his financial diligence had allowed him to own a home rather than rent a one-room hole-in-the-wall like Nina.

  Letter in hand, he peeked through the peephole in his front door and instantly dreaded what he saw. Three men dressed in identical black suits stood on the other side. Thankfully, none of them were Zietz. If Zietz had been here, he wouldn’t have knocked. Zietz would’ve kicked the door in with his big ass bigfoot foot. His number two was here, though. The heavily scarred Gavin Hodges wasn’t as ornery as Zietz was, but he was a close second.

  He held up the letter. Gotta hide this thing.

  Hawk dashed into his kitchen and shoved Roosevelt’s letter into the first thing he could find that would work. Then, he stood tall and walked back to the door. He cleared his throat and asked, “Who’s there?” He added a cough to keep up the ‘being sick’ farce.

  “It’s Gavin, Hawk. Open up.”

  “I—I’m not feeling well,” Hawk replied. “I already called in. I don’t want to get anyone sick.”

  It’s then that Hawk realized that it had only been a few minutes since he had called the casino. It meant that Gavin and his men had already been on their way to see him, even before he accessed his speed dial. It confirmed his suspicion.

  Crap! They really do know!

  “What’s this all about?” Hawk asked, doing what he could to delay them.

  He peered back into the peephole and watched Gavin lean closer into the door. “Mr. Creed has a message for you.”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  “This…”

  Gavin turned around and said something out of earshot. One of his men drew a sound suppressed pistol and shot out the deadbolt. Stunned, Hawk couldn’t move in time. He witnessed Gavin put his foot into the door. It swung in hard and smashed Hawk in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. Lip bloodied, Hawk lay on the living room floor, hands raised in surrender. Gavin strolled in and smiled when he saw him. The other two men entered last and shut the door. They immediately began tearing Hawk’s house
apart. Gavin didn’t join them. Instead, he leaned over Hawk’s shriveling form.

  “So, what should we talk about?”

  Outside Cascade, Wyoming

  Jack and Bull’s five-hour drive was nearly complete. Over the last half of the peaceful journey, they had discussed what Roosevelt might have found. They also talked about other things centering around Devils Tower and the Seven Sisters, and they counted the cow pastures. After losing count twice, they abandoned the game altogether.

  “Why do you think Roosevelt chose Devils Tower to be America’s first National Monument?” Jack asked.

  Bull shrugged. “The Bear Lodge always intrigued him. It was also said that he had friends within the local tribes. Roosevelt was a man of the world. He loved nature and wanted it preserved.”

  Jack nodded. “That he did.”

  Including Devils Tower, Roosevelt declared a total of eighteen U.S. National Monuments. He also established the United States Forest Service (USFS), fifty-one bird reserves, four game reserves, and 150 National Forests. Not only was he the President of the United States, but in a way, he was also the president of nature conservation.

  “He was an impressive man,” Jack said, lost deep in thought. He was staring through the passenger-side window. He had not been looking at anything in particular. “Still, that doesn’t explain it.”

  “What do you mean?” Bull asked, glancing back and forth between Jack and the road.

  “There must’ve been dozens of other places he could’ve chosen instead of Devils Tower.”

  “The ‘wealth of a nation?’” Bull asked.

  “Bingo,” Jack replied, grinning hard.

  “You think he hid a treasure of some kind?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. But the letter pretty much laid it out as if he did.”

  “That,” Bull said, frowning, “would be unfortunate.”

  Jack agreed. “It would tarnish a great man’s legacy.”

  “Could Roosevelt actually have conspired against the country for his personal benefit?” Bull asked.

  Jack looked at him, then returned his attention to his window. “Honestly, I have no friggin’ clue.”

  He took a deep breath, picturing Roosevelt bathing himself in gold, gemstones, and cash. Man, I hope not. He was Jack’s favorite president for several reasons. This would certainly change the way he looked at the man.

  Cascade, Wyoming

  Bull turned left onto Azure Drive, a road that Jack sort of recognized. He had been to Cascade twice before, but only once had he been to Hawk’s place. If you wanted to be technical about it, Jack still had never actually “been there.” He had not gone inside either time. They had dropped Hawk off a couple of times while they had been in town. Hawk’s car had been in the shop for a few days, and Bull gladly acted as his nephew’s chauffeur, if only to be around him more.

  Hawk’s place was the fifth house on the right. A thickly built, blacked-out SUV was parked on the street outside.

  “Hmmm,” Bull said, eyes squinted. “That’s not my nephew’s vehicle.”

  “Nina?” Jack asked. No, that’s not right, he thought. She should still be in the hospital.

  Bull confirmed as much. He curtly shook his head in response.

  It was evident to both men that something was wrong. Bull started to pull over but was ushered along instead.

  “Not here,” Jack insisted. He pointed further ahead. “Park a few houses down.”

  Bull nodded and did as he was told. Once they were stopped, they unbuckled and climbed out.

  “You armed?” Jack asked.

  Bull opened his jacket. There, nestled under his left armpit, was his pistol.

  “Okay, then.” He locked eyes with his friend. “You ready for this?” Bull nodded. They stayed low and headed for the neighbor’s front yard. “Do me a favor, will ya?”

  “What?”

  Jack looked around and drew his sidearm from beneath his shirt. “Don’t shoot me in the back.” He swiftly scaled the porch’s side railing.

  His comment didn’t amuse Bull. “Then, you need to do me a favor.” Jack stopped halfway over the rail and looked down at Bull. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Both men froze at the sound of a person crying out for help. Jack threw his other leg over the banister and hustled for the door. Bull ditched their initial plan and ran for the front steps. He took them two at a time and watched Jack kick open the door. It swung open with ease. The deadbolt had already been compromised and was missing entirely.

  They entered, guns up, and quickly cleared the front of the home. Hawk was seated in the middle of the kitchen. His face was swollen, and his hands were tied to the chair. Standing behind him was an ugly guy around Jack’s age.

  He held a large pistol to Hawk’s temple.

  “Oh look,” the stranger said, smiling wide, “we have visitors.”

  5

  “Drop the gun, Sloth.”

  The insult got a snicker out of Hawk. He earned himself a pull of his ponytail as a result. Sloth, the slug with the ugly mug, jammed the muzzle of his pistol deeper into Hawk’s skull.

  “Dammit, Gavin, stop!” Hawk shouted. “I told you, I don’t know where the letter is.” He looked at Jack when he said it. Hawk didn’t break eye contact with Jack until he fully understood.

  Jack hid his smile. Hawk was lying.

  “Shut your tiny little mouth, Finch,” Gavin mocked. He looked up from Hawk and met glares with Jack. “And you—you need to watch your tongue.”

  “Seriously, dude,” Jack pushed, lining up the man’s forehead in his sights, “you look exactly like the freak from The Goonies.”

  Jack was purposely trying to get under the other man’s skin. Anger made people do stupid things, and he hoped this guy acted accordingly. He waited for the gun to turn on him. When it did, Gavin would already be dead.

  But it didn’t.

  Jack and Bull got attacked from behind. They were sent sprawling forward, losing their guns in the process. But their lack of firepower didn’t mean they were defenseless.

  Jack’s momentum sent him straight into the kitchen table. Luckily, he still had enough control of himself to duck beneath the hardwood tabletop, but not before snapping one of its legs off with his shoulder. The circular piece of furniture, as well as the spaghetti dinner sitting atop it, tipped over. It coated the floor and the two newcomers’ feet in red sauce and meatballs.

  Happily, the rangers were out of the splash zone.

  Jack got to his feet. He was incredibly skilled in hand-to-hand combat practices. And just because Bull wasn’t as skillfully trained as Jack was didn’t mean his methods weren’t just as effective. Jack read his opponents like a book and used their weaknesses against them. Like now, he watched one of the two men stalk forward with his hands low and began to calculate what action he would take. Once Jack got to his feet, he would launch a series of swift jabs, directing them at his foe’s eyes and nose. Bull didn’t analyze anything. He used brute force and an unwavering focus to his advantage.

  The Lakotan snarled like a feral beast and climbed to his feet. Gavin swung his pistol toward Bull but never got a shot off. Hawk hopped high enough into the air to drive the cylindrical foot of the chair’s right rear leg into the bridge of Gavin’s foot. The group’s ringleader limped forward and took an elbow from Jack right in the face. Gavin fell backwards, and hit the back of his head on the edge of the kitchen counter. ‘Sloth’ went down like a sack of ugly potatoes.

  For his part, Hawk and his chair were sent crashing to the tile floor. He would be useless for the remainder of the fight. Favoring his left shoulder, Jack snagged the first thing he could. The broken table leg would act as the perfect club. He peeked over the fallen table and stopped the man from drawing his weapon from beneath his coat.

  No, not a club, he thought, hurling the leg.

  Jack’s makeshift javelin struck home and popped the thug in his throat. Leaping to his feet, Jack vaulted the overturned table and bull
dozed the gasping thug, driving him up and over the kitchen countertop. They spilled into the living room and rolled away from one another. Jack couldn’t see how Bull was doing, but he did hear shattering noises and Hawk cursing up a storm.

  “Dammit, Bull,” Hawk yelled, “this isn’t a China shop!”

  Getting to his feet, Jack reached around his back and unsheathed the only other weapon he had. The small tactical knife was incredibly sharp and could kill a man if used correctly. Jack didn’t want to end anyone’s life, but he would if he was forced to do so.

  Goon Number Two raised his fists and launched a wild haymaker at Jack. He sidestepped the attempt and slashed at the man’s wrist, making him think twice before trying it again. The cut wasn’t life-threatening, but it would sting. The two men reset and sized one another up.

  “Hiding behind your blade?” the thug asked.

  Jack shrugged. “No, but I’m not putting it down and fighting you fairly if that’s what you’re getting at.” He laughed. “This isn’t a nineties action flick, Steven.”

  “Steven?”

  Jack’s shoulders fell. “Seagal?”

  Number Two may have been in his late twenties. He wasn’t much older than Hawk but was still over a decade younger than Jack. His blank expression irked the former military man.

  No one teaches the kids about the classics anymore.

  After five seconds of nothing, Jack started to get frustrated. So, he explained what was about to happen.

  “Okay, look, I don’t want to kill you, and it’s pretty clear to see that you haven’t been in too many fights. Why don’t you get out of here while you can?” The other guy didn’t budge. “Seriously, dude, I can put you in the ground with nothing more than a broken toenail.” After another few seconds of inaction, Jack’s opponent stepped toward the front door. Jack let him go. He went as far as slipping his knife back into its sheath at the small of his back. Jack even took a step back and allowed Number Two to turn and open the door.

  And that’s when he pressed his carefully planned attack.

  Jack kicked out the back of the man’s knee, weakening his base. Then, he did it again. Staggered and facing the wrong way, Jack acted like a professional wrestler and performed a standing dropkick to the guy’s back. The impact threw his opponent headfirst into the door. He rolled to the side as the door banged off the frame and swung back open. Calmly, Jack stepped up to the door and grabbed it.