David Golemon - Ancients

When they arrived at the front porch, they saw an elderly woman standing in front of the ornate and gilded front doors. She slowly made her way down to the car as it stopped. Collins stepped out of the backseat and looked at the casually dressed woman, who was short in stature. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Collins to speak.

"Ms. Laughlin? Martha Laughlin?"

If the woman was taken back because Jack knew her first name, she didn't show it.

"Yes."

"My name is Colonel Jack Collins, of the United States Army. You were informed that we're here to see you and Mr. Rothman about the death of Jackson Keeler. I assume you have heard of this man?"

This time Jack saw the woman blink. That was all she did, but in that brief moment he saw sadness there, but not shock at the news of Keeler's death.

"Why is the army interested in the death of an attorney, Colonel?"

"You and Mr. Rothman's names were on a slip of paper Mr. Keeler hid in his person before he died. Do you know why he would do that?"

"Colonel, this line of questioning has no interest for me or Mr. Rothman. I do not see any reason to share information of a private nature with U.S. Army, which, as I understand it, is not tasked to do the work assigned to agencies far better equipped to deal with the matter of Mr. Keeler's death."

"Well, I can start with the death of thirty-six of my colleagues for doing nothing more than examining artifacts from antiquity."

Jack once more saw the woman blink, and now she switched the weight of her body from foot to foot.

"Artifacts. The army is dealing in artifacts now? Can you explain this sudden change of direction for a branch of the armed services, Colonel? I mean, with all that's happening in the world, I would think you would have your hands full instead of antiquing."

Jack smiled but said nothing.

"Very well, Colonel, you have piqued my interest. You and your men can come this way."

Jack watched the woman walk up the four steps leading to the door. He knew that she smelled something that didn't sit right with her. That and the fact that the woman was fully clothed at four o'clock in the morning told him that there was little relaxation occurring behind these closed doors. He waved the others out of the car and followed the woman into the house.

Two white vans pulled into the drive and waited for the guard to exit the gatehouse, while another van pulled in across the street. Four men exited that van and knocked on the door. As soon as it was opened they pushed the man who had answered backward and then tossed something inside and close the door again. They heard a muffled whump and then they pulled on black hoods and entered the building. Inside there were five men in total, the one who had answered the door and four other guards who had been sleeping in bunks that lined the wall. All were gasping for air. Very carefully and silently, the guards were dispatched with one round to the head in very short order.

Across the way, the first guard out to meet the white van met a similar fate. Shot once in the forehead, he fell backward and hit the concrete. The rear doors opened and two men exited and ran into the gatehouse. One soon reappeared and held up a hand and then closed it. The second man saw the signal and started firing with his silenced MP-5 into the bush where they had observed the guard previously when the car arrived. The man was satisfied when he heard a loud grunt, and then he made sure by going to the back of the bush and firing three more rounds into the guard who had thought himself well hidden.

The elimination of Rothman's security element was accomplished in thirty-two seconds. Then both vans, filled with fifteen heavily armed men, started making their way up the drive.

Jack, Carl, Ryan, and Mendenhall were led to a large den, where Martha Laughlin told them to take a seat at the large table in the center of the room. Then she turned and left.

Collins looked at Everett as he sat and nodded. Carl, with a blur of movement, removed his Beretta 9-millimeter and pulled the slide backward, chambering a round, and then allowed his hand to vanish beneath the table. Mendenhall did the same thing.

Soon Martha returned. She was helping a man who was fully clothed in slacks and a white shirt. He wore a dressing gown over his clothes and looked as weak as a newborn. The man, obviously Carmichael Rothman, was small in stature at only five-foot-five and he held the arm of Martha Laughlin as if he could fall at any moment. Collins looked at Everett, and Carl in turn felt silly for having his weapon out.

Jack stood and watched as Rothman was led slowly to the table. The old man did not meet any of his visitors' eyes as he slowly sat down. Jack sat too.

Martha stood by his side for a brief moment and then sat next to him. The man finally looked up and found the man who he assumed to be in charge. It just happened to be Collins.

"Jackson Keeler was ... was our friend."

The old man said the words slowly, his eyes never leaving Jack's face.

"Why would he and other innocent people be slaughtered like that? What was being sought that all that blood would be spilled?"

Rothman looked from Jack to Martha, who squeezed his arm in support.

"If I ask you who you work for, Colonel, would I receive truth in your answer?"

"I work for people who lost thirty-six men and women to the same murdering bunch that killed your friend, Mr. Rothman."

"I see. That explains your interest in that regard." He turned and accepted two pills from Ms. Laughlin and swallowed them without water. "Martha here has informed me that you said your people were examining artifacts, I believe?"

Jack did not respond. He was not in Virginia to be questioned; he was there to get his questions answered.

"Could this be the artifacts recovered from New York, an account of which I have read in the newspapers?"

The four men before them sat motionlessly.

"I'm afraid the men who are responsible for the death of so many were not just after the names of Martha and myself. They were chasing something much more valuable to them. We were just a bonus. We knew our old friend kept a journal, and we couldn't convince him that it was dangerous, not only to himself but to others."

"Like you two?" Jack asked.

Martha smiled and her look never wavered away from Collins.

"Yes, like us, Colonel."

"There are people in the world, Colonel, who don't wear their intentions on their sleeve. Very powerful men and women who ..." Rothman looked at Martha for support.

"They seek power and continuity. They want the world as a whole, a nice dream of one central government, but separate races. Their willingness to attain such a utopian society has been a rather ruthless one throughout the years. These are the people responsible for the death of your men and women and our friend. As I said, they have sought to bring about their way of life for many years. They actually have an ancient precedent of that utopian society, Colonel."

"Do you mean Atlantis?"

Martha went silent. Rothman only smiled.

"Colonel, you have said nothing, but told us everything," Rothman said, patting Martha's hand.

Collins and the three other men saw strength returning to Rothman. The pills he had taken must have been taking effect.

"I really didn't believe you and your people existed any longer. My father told me about a wonderful organization that was in existence many, many years ago. However, he lost track of your organization just before World War Two. Do not look so shocked, Colonel. It was the mention of artifacts that gave it away. For the life of me, I can't remember the name of your Group, though."

Jack remained silent but he see that Everett, Mendenhall, and Ryan were having a harder time of it.