April 2, 2016
Taos, New Mexico
Myriam walked out onto the chalet’s porch that looked out on the ski slopes. Low-lying fog hovered near the piñon pines that lined the five runs. The dark gray envelope of mist suited her mood. She had stormed off the evening before into one of the chalet’s guestrooms after Hiram revealed his involvement in the various plots to kill or capture Adam. The revelation had shocked her. At the same time she still longed to find herself in his powerful embrace. As he had told his story, she could see his pain and his hope that she would somehow forgive him. Myriam could also see that he was frightened. That was an emotion she had never seen in Hiram before.
As Myriam stretched, she realized she had hardly slept. Through the night she had played over and over in her mind the many “what-ifs,” trying to make sense of the story she heard from the man that had become more than just a lover. A man who was her best friend. Can grown men in today’s modern world really act this way? How could Hiram be a part of such ignorance and evil?
Unexpectedly, her attention was drawn inside the chalet where the German caretaker and Conklin gathered around the television. As she approached, Myriam could see a reporter interviewing two men. They were talking about their previous night’s ordeal and the dramatic rescue efforts by the local Forest Service rangers. The man spoke with a smooth South African accent. She recognized him immediately. He had come to the Milagro Shrine a couple of months ago. Raphael Núnez introduced him on a shrine tour. She was amazed at how well he looked even after a sleepless night of fighting the rain and cold.
From behind her a voice boomed through the chalet, “That’s Haas.” Everybody turned and looked at Beecher.
PIETER HAAS WALKED away from the newswoman relieved the interview was over. Skirting the news crew’s truck, Greta Van Horn ran up to him and threw her arms around his broad shoulders in a mad embrace. She whispered in his ear, “I know this is embarrassing but play along. They think I’m your wife.”
With the cameras now clearly focused on the couple, Haas smiled and gave a thumbs up. And then the two of them hurried off to the waiting SUV. Once inside the privacy of the vehicle, Greta resumed her normally distant attitude toward the CEO. “Two of the men are in the hospital undergoing tests and observation, and the others are back at the hotel,” she informed him.
“Fill me in,” Haas demanded.
“Everything’s under control. We need to get you checked out.”
He waved away her concern.
“How did the forest rangers find us so quickly?”
“I sent them the coordinates of where you were heading.”
“Good thinking. Thank you. Did they find Beecher or Miami?”
“No word on either of them yet.”
“What about Adam?”
“He’s gone.”
Haas’s eyes narrowed. “Gone where?”
Greta shook her head. “He vanished into thin air.”
Haas slumped in his seat. The news hit him almost as badly as the experience of spending the night outside in northern New Mexico’s mountains. “Take me to the hotel,” he said wearily. I need a long hot shower and some rest, he told himself. Then I’ll deal with all of this.
Four hours later, looking as if nothing had happened, Haas entered Greta’s hotel room. She had improvised a control center to stay in contact with South Africa. She had a cordless headset and was speaking softly to Dr. Lindstrom on the screen. She clicked off when he came over.
“Well?” he said, sitting in a chair opposite the dark-haired woman.
Neatly prepared as usual, Greta began, “First let me say Goren told me what happened out there. I’m glad you were able to make it out alive. Here’s what’s new. As you requested, we kept eyes on Miami’s house and the chalet where Beecher is staying. He arrived early in the evening at the chalet with somebody we don’t know. The report was he looked shaken, walked with a limp, but otherwise was okay. Five hours later Miami, who had a head wound, plus Jonathan Ramsey and Beecher’s woman, Myriam St. Eves, showed up at Miami’s house. Later the fellow who seems to be helping Beecher picked up Myriam and drove her to the chalet. All rather cozy don’t you think?”
Haas shook his head in amazement. “So, Beecher made it out. I can’t believe it considering the difficulty we had. It’s almost as if there were divine intervention.”
Greta watched her boss who sat looking up at the ceiling as if in prayer. After several seconds she cleared her throat.
Haas smiled. “What happened with Adam?”
“According to Lindstrom it appears Adam started moving about the time you were ambushed by the Mexicans.”
Looking up from her notes, she snapped, “What in the hell was that about?”
Surprised by her uncharacteristic show of emotion, Haas shrugged. “We were sloppy. They must have followed us from the moment we left Taos.”
“Do you think they were there to stop you from finding Adam?”
“The slimy little bastards seemed to be thinking they were going to find a wealth of diamonds.”
“So it was unrelated to the primary mission?”
Haas nodded. “So Adam just disappeared?”
“You remember it’s impossible to track Adam when he’s moving. So, either he’s been on the go for twenty hours or he’s left our coverage area.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“Nowhere. But our analysts discovered something interesting. When they were reevaluating the data since Adam’s disappearance, there was an interesting spike in the coherence at the shrine eight days ago.”
“How is that possible?”
“The lingering or residual coherence field at the shrine had a spike upward in strength. It turns out that was the day Jonathan Ramsey visited the Milagro Shrine for the first time. Here’s what’s really interesting. We found what might be a similar weak coherence field two nights ago in the area of Miami’s house. Our people think Jonathan Ramsey might have somehow produced it.”
“Christ, where is Ramsey now?”
Greta touched her headset. “Tell me where Ramsey is right now.” She listened, then, “It looks like he, Pete Miami, and Myriam St. Eves are heading back to the shrine. Remember, Miami’s car is there.”
“Call Goren. Get us one of those SUVs. I need to get down there.”