Chapter 1
The Coded Letter
In a filthy Mexican jail cell, a prisoner sat on his bed holding a letter that he’d received that day. The note was written in childlike handwriting. There were twelve pink pony stickers scattered across the page. Anyone who looked at the note would think it was written by a little girl. But the prisoner knew better. It was a message from a member of his adult gang.
He pulled the first sticker off the page. The word “MEET” was written on the page underneath. Under the second sticker was the word “AT.” The third sticker revealed the time “11:30 p.m.”
After removing the rest of the stickers, the man studied the message.
Meet at 11:30 p.m. tonight. Gas station 5 miles due west. Gold awaits.
The prisoner grunted with pleasure.
BANG!
The door to the cellblock clanged open against the wall behind it. A skinny prison guard sporting a handlebar mustache entered the cellblock. He walked down the hallway and checked in on each of the ten prisoners. The inmate stuffed the note into this trouser pocket before the guard arrived at his cell.
“Lights out in five minutes!” shouted the guard in Spanish.
The prisoner nodded to the man. He’d already been in the prison for sixty days. He knew the schedule. At 10 p.m. every night, the lights went out. Most of the prisoners used the time to sleep. But not this prisoner. He used the nighttime hours to prepare his escape.
As soon as he’d arrived, the man had stolen a spoon from the prison cafeteria. Every night since, he’d used it to scrape at the soft wall near the floor of his cell. Just last week, he’d managed to make a hole big enough to fit through. Now that his gang was ready for him, all the prisoner had to do was escape.
CLICK.
The lights went out.
The prisoner waited for the other inmates to fall asleep. Then he moved the bedside table that was covering the hole to the side. He got down on his hands and knees and slithered through it. Once outside, he began to run.
In front of him was a tall barbed wire fence. A spotlight from above was zigzagging across the grounds. He waited for the light to move somewhere else, then he bolted for the fence.
He climbed it and thrust his body over the barbs. They ripped at his clothes and sliced into his skin. But the prisoner didn’t care. He was Callous Carl, the toughest treasure hunter on the planet. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he ran across the Mexican desert and toward the lights of the gas station ahead.