Macleans kingdom, p.1
MACLEAN'S KINGDOM, page 1
MACLEAN’S KINGDOM
By Tony Reed
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
Copyright © 2017 by TONY REED
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
BOOKS BY TONY REED
The Lincoln Monk Adventures
-Neptune Island
-Jungle Fever
The Monk and Lee Adventures
-MacLean’s Kingdom
-Desert Gold
Sonoran Fury
Short Stories
Mann’s Best Friend
Cover design by Damonza
Edited by Darby O’Shaughnessy
For information, please contact TonyReedAuthor@gmail.com
When Lincoln is hired by the beautiful Allison Maclean to retrieve a lost family heirloom, his only obstacle is convincing his long time traveling companion Mich Lee that the scorpions and unbearable heat of the Sonoran Desert aren’t a problem.
Enter land baron Desmond MacLean and his family of ruthless cutthroats. Lincoln and Mich find themselves double-crossed and left for dead in a remote desert cavern.
However, a rival family out for revenge stirs in the shadows—a family hell-bent on retribution for the past.
With the odds stacked against them, Lincoln and Mich must use all of their combined skills to escape the desert tomb and survive the wrath of the two warring families in the battle for MacLean’s kingdom.
With its classic cars, gun battles, highway chases, desert locale and that The Dukes of Hazzard vibe, MacLean’s Kingdom is sure to please fans of fun, fast-paced action-adventure.
CHAPTER 1
Sonoran Desert – Arizona
“WHAT THE HELL is this place?” Mich Lee stood at the entrance to the cavern. He wiped the sweat from his brow and peered into the inky blackness beyond.
Beside him, Lincoln Monk compared the GPS coordinates on his phone with the information written on the note. Squinting from the glare of the midday sun, he pulled his baseball cap lower and surveyed the yawning mouth of the cave hidden between the folds of the sandstone hillside. Satisfied that they were in the right location he said, “Let’s find out,” and headed inside the cavern.
“Hang on. We don’t know what’s in there.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Back in town in an air-conditioned room drinking an ice-cold Foster’s. That’s as far as my sense of adventure goes when it comes to wandering around creepy caves in the desert when it’s 120 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade.”
Lincoln climbed over a rockfall partially blocking the entrance and entered the mouth of the cavern. Cool air washed over his overheated body, a refreshing change from the overbearing heat of the unsheltered desert. He pulled a bottle of water from his pouch and drank half the contents in one gulp.
The cavern was the size of a soccer field. In places, its towering walls rose one hundred feet. With daylight reaching only a few feet into the chamber, visibility was low, so the far walls were enveloped in darkness.
“One day your cavalier attitude is gonna get us killed,” Mich called after him.
“Maybe. But not today.” Lincoln pulled the flashlight from his utility belt. He swept the beam through the darkness as he made his way further into the cavern, careful not to lose his footing on the loose stones and jutting rocks. He directed the light towards the sandstone walls and ceiling. While gazing in awe at the beauty of his surroundings, he tripped. He steadied himself and flashed the light on the floor of the cave where a steel rail ran along the ground. He followed the rail until it disappeared into a wall of rubble.
He scanned the darkness. Sitting between two rocks, he discovered an old paraffin-based lantern, eaten away by rust and time. The light played with the shadows cast by the irregular rocks behind the lantern, creating the sense that the rock face was alive and dancing.
Deeper into the cavern, the flashlight swept a craggy outcrop and a faint reflection caught his attention. The beam revealed a metallic object partially hidden in the shadows of the rock formation. “Mich, get down here.”
“Do I have to?” Mich unrolled the bottoms of his cargo pants to allow the gathering sand to spill out. “You know I don’t like caves, right?” He tapped his sandals against a nearby rock, dislodging the sweat-soaked sand between his toes.
“You’re gonna forget all about your phobias when you see what’s in here.”
“Promise?”
“Swear to God.”
Mich pulled his long hair back into a ponytail. Frowning, he surveyed the surrounding saguaro cacti and low-lying underbrush. The landscape shimmered in the afternoon sun, with small hills dotting the horizon and vultures squawking overhead. He started toward the cave, then jumped back. A scorpion was crawling across the sandy ground toward his feet. Eager to forget about this deadly creature common to desert terrain, Mich sang aloud, “I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name, good to be out of the rain . . . in the desert on a horse with no name . . .” Mich’s singing echoed within the cavern.
“America, the band that sings that song, is actually an English group,” Lincoln called.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Hurry up; I need more light.”
Reluctantly Mich climbed over the uneven rocks at the cave’s entrance. “If I see just one bat or some big-ass hairy spider, I’m outta here. You got that?”
Lincoln was studying the reflected light behind the rock. This has to be the spot Allison was talking about. He took his bearings as best he could in the available light, passing the beam over a nearby rock formation that resembled a human head. He swept the beam to the right to confirm that the adjoining sandstone protrusion matched Allison’s description. Sure enough, the weather-worn pattern was shaped like a large butterfly. Certain that he was in the right place, Lincoln reached into the craggy recess behind the rock to retrieve the metallic object.
Mich appeared by Lincoln’s side. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, squinting at the dusty leather.
“Here,” Lincoln said, passing Mich the flashlight. “Shine the beam on the satchel.” As Mich shone the light over the bag, the three metal buckles glistened. “Allison was right,” Lincoln said, pulling the satchel from the shadows and resting it on a nearby rock.
“Right about what?” Mich asked, keeping the satchel illuminated. “And who’s Allison?”
Lincoln didn’t answer.
The unrelenting heat and Lincoln’s silence finally got to Mich. “Okay, what’s this all about?” he demanded. “You call me at two in the morning and tell me you have a client who desperately needs help. On your say so, we drive to the middle of nowhere until the terrain becomes undrivable—and then you drag me on foot across the Sonoran Desert for two hours to this black hole. Not only do I have to contend with rattlesnakes and scorpions on the hike here, but now I have to deal with your bullshit secrecy.” Mich diverted the light from the satchel and waited.
“All will be revealed in a minute—if you’ll just shine that light over here.”
Mich sighed. He refocused the beam and wiped more sweat from his brow while Lincoln studied the three straps fastening the bag shut. “This had better be good,” Mich muttered. “I was supposed to meet Crystal for lunch. So much for that plan.”
“Crystal?” Lincoln asked. “Is she the woman you met online?”
“No!”
At the irritation in Mich’s voice, Lincoln paused. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, but I thought you two hit it off.” Lincoln pulled the first leather strap back through the metal buckle while Mich feigned interest in the surrounding rock formations. “Well?” Lincoln asked. “So what happened with the online date?”
Mich hesitated before sighing in resignation. “All right, fine. Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you what happened. She turned out to be a he—that’s what happened. Are you happy now?”
Lincoln struggled not to laugh. “No, not happy, just—mildly amused,” he said, as the second strap came loose.
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
“Sorry, Mich,” Lincoln said, continuing to suppress his laughter, “but I couldn’t help myself.” He drew the last strap from the buckle. “This is it—the moment of truth.” He lifted the flap. Inside was a single sheet, curled around the edges and yellowed with age. The paper almost crumbled to the touch, and, not wanting to damage it further, he carefully placed the sheet on a flat rock beside them.
“What is it?” Mich asked, shining the flashlight on the aged document.
Lincoln studied the writing. “I’m no expert, but I think what we’re looking at is a bearer bond.”
“A what bond?”
“A bearer bond. Back in the day, it was easier to carry a bearer bond around than a stack of cash. The government and certain banking institutions stopped making bearer bonds in the 1980s because they don’t specify ownership. Anyone in possession is legally entitled to the monetary sum on the bond, so it’s difficult to track the money. Law enforcement agencies don’t like that.” Lincoln noted the hand-drawn symbol at the bottom of the page: a desert landscape with a three-pronged saguaro cactus. He’d seen that logo for a local business all over town.
&nb
“In case you haven’t noticed, we haven’t worked in three weeks. And that Foster’s you mentioned earlier? Yeah, my credit card is paying for it. Allison’s paying me a thousand dollars cash—half in advance, and half on completion—and that’s just fine with me.”
“How did she even find you?”
“I met her a few days ago. We kinda hit it off, and, over breakfast yesterday, she mentioned she was having problems with her family.”
“Over breakfast? Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You meet a total stranger, you sleep with her, and then—”
“A gentleman never tells,” Lincoln said, grinning.
“—and then she tells you, ‘Oh, by the way, there’s a satchel in this creepy old cave in the middle of the desert and it would be just dandy if you could get it for me.’ Does that about sum it up?”
Lincoln considered Mich’s take on the situation. In hindsight, the interaction probably hadn’t been his finest hour. Attempting to justify his decision-making protocol, he added, “Did I tell you Allison’s a dead ringer for Lauren Bacall? You know, Humphrey Bogart’s wife? The Big Sleep, Dark Passage, Key Lar—”
“I know who Lauren Bacall is,” Mich interrupted. He paused, and his tone changed. “Really—she looks like Bacall?”
Lincoln nodded. “Yep.”
“Nice. I might have to meet her one day.”
“That day may be sooner than you think.” The husky female voice emanated from the darkness behind them.
Lincoln and Mich spun around. The most stunning woman Mich had ever seen emerged from the shadows between two armed men. Not even the harsh glare of the flashlight could diminish the sex appeal of her cat-like grace, sandy blonde hair, and movie-star appearance. Her blue-green eyes rested on the satchel behind Lincoln.
The thug on Allison’s right spat out the orders. “Hands up, jerks.”
Lincoln and Mich reluctantly raised their hands. “Mich, this is Allison. Allison, this is Mich.” Lincoln turned to Allison’s goons. “On the left, Mich, we have Allison’s Thug Number One, and on the right, we have Allison’s Thug Number Two.”
Thug Number Two sneered at the jibe. He reached out, grabbed Lincoln’s cap and threw it on the ground. “Keep on being a wise arse, and I’ll show you what I find funny.”
Lincoln glanced down at his cap and noticed Thug Number Two’s red cowboy boots. “I’ll tell you what I find funny—those boots. Do they make them for men, too?”
While his buddy turned away and chuckled, Thug Number Two jerked his pistol level with Lincoln’s head, barely able to contain his anger. “I want to shoot you two now—I really do—but then it wouldn’t look like an accident, would it? And if anybody stumbled upon the bodies, well, it would leave too many unanswered questions, and we don’t want that, now do we?”
“Oh, you’re right there,” Lincoln said. “I just hate a mess.”
“But out here in the middle of nowhere, cave-ins and spelunking accidents happen all the time.”
“Barry.” Allison cleared her throat. Thug Number Two understood the signal and returned to her side, gun still raised.
“The satchel, Linc,” Allison murmured in her sultry voice.
“She even sounds like Bacall,” Mich whispered to Lincoln.
Lincoln placed the bearer bond back in the satchel and grudgingly handed the case to Allison. “What’s this all about?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet? I thought you were smarter than that. Oh, well,” she purred. “Dear old Granddad had a passion for antiquities. He spent his life in search of ancient artifacts. Every waking hour he was always studying: maps, old gold mines, caves, old trail routes. You name it, he looked into it until his death three days ago. Our family lawyer informed us of his will and testament. All that talk about secret documents and hidden caves got the family quite excited, as you can imagine. A potential cash jackpot hidden in the desert? Wow! Ka-ching!”
“So why get me to retrieve the briefcase? Why not just come down here and get it yourself?”
“I had to make sure no one was watching the site.”
“Meaning?”
“Let’s just say that there are those in the family business—and it’s a big business—who want a piece of the pie. For a family member to disappear in the desert would be easy, you know. One less knife in the back to worry about.”
“I know how that feels.”
“Okay, so I used you to draw them out—and any other undesirables lurking around. We’ve been watching you since you left the hotel this morning, and as far as we can tell, no one followed you.”
“You used us as bait?”
“What a bitch,” Mich chimed in.
Barry drew back the slide on the Sig and took aim at Lincoln’s head.
Allison glided around the loose rocks littering the ground to stand face to face with Lincoln. “Don’t be sad. We had a good time—even if it was just for one night. If it’s any consolation, I honestly enjoyed our time together. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end.” She kissed Lincoln passionately on the mouth, locking eyes with Mich, and pulled away. “Maybe next time, Mich.” As her curvaceous form faded into the shadows of the cavern, Mich caught sight of the logo emblazoned across her shapely rear—Juicy.
Lincoln tried to regain some sense of equality. “Yeah?” he called after her. “Well, I faked it.”
Mich rolled his eyes.
“So did I,” Allison’s voice echoed in the shadows.
Mich turned to Lincoln. “Ouch!”
Lincoln ignored the quips and glanced down at Barry’s red boots again. “So what happens now? Time to follow the yellow brick road?”
Barry laughed a disturbing, unnatural laugh, and edged closer to Lincoln. Lincoln feigned sniffing the air, then cringed and turned away. “You might what to try a breath mint, possibly a mouthwash.”
Mich sighed. “Why must you always antagonize the guys with guns?”
Barry moved to arm’s length and pistol-whipped Lincoln across the head. Lincoln’s vision blurred to a sea of swirling light, shadows, and stars. He fell. “Who’s laughing now, funny man?”
Mich shifted to defend Lincoln, but Thug Number One moved fast with an uppercut to Mich’s jaw. He fell beside Lincoln.
Barry stood over Lincoln and, for good measure, kicked him in the ribs. Lincoln moaned as Barry knelt and took his phone. He smashed it on a rock. The phone shattered, its pieces scattering in the dark. Thug Number One did the same for Mich, rendering both cell phones useless.
Barry sneered at the two men lying on the ground and spat in their direction. “You’ve got five minutes to live, assholes. Make the most of it. ” Barry and Thug Number One disappeared into the darkness, leaving Lincoln and Mich alone in the cavern.
“What do you think he meant by five minutes?” Mich asked, coughing up blood and dust.
“Let’s not find out.” Lincoln attempted to get up and winced. Despite a possible cracked rib and an aching head, he managed to stand.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that remark means that Allison’s plan doesn’t include our getting out of this cave alive.”
Lincoln helped Mich to his feet. “The goons will be waiting at the entrance and eager to shoot, so going back would be suicide. Something tells me we need to get away from the entrance as fast as possible.” He peered into the black toward the rear of the cave. “Our only hope is to go deeper into the cavern and search for another exit.” With their flashlights leading the way, they proceeded further into the unknown.
The deep rumble reverberated through the cavern and shook the ground beneath Lincoln and Mich’s feet. They turned toward the sound, holding their flashlights in front of them, struggling to see in the darkness. The shockwave from the sonic boom tore through the air, followed seconds later by a cloud of dust and sand racing toward them at the speed of sound. Lincoln didn’t need to see the oncoming juggernaut. He understood the deadly consequences of being caught in the open with a wave of fast-moving rock particles churning the air. He grabbed Mich and dove behind a rocky outcrop. The dust cloud shot by, sandblasting everything in its path, before disappearing into the darker folds of the cavern.
