Chapter 211: The Treasure of the Freemasons
Ron had been in the game for many years, but he'd never sounded so diplomatic before.
However, Ron didn't think there was anything wrong with this approach. He believed this was the kind of adaptability that made a good federal agent.
The FBI agent who had just left on Ron's orders came back and said, "Sir, we just discovered that Gates rented a safe house in D.C. Do you want to move on it now..."
"Absolutely." Ron agreed before the guy even finished talking.
Gates's hideout was a small apartment rental near Reagan National. After FBI agents confirmed there were no hostiles inside, Ron and the old Mason went up together.
Surprisingly, there were no weapons or firearms inside. Instead, it was a sterile room lined with plastic sheeting.
"Now we're getting somewhere." Ron pulled back the plastic and made a welcoming gesture. "I'm guessing they figured there was some kind of secret map written in invisible ink on the Declaration, so they wanted to find a way to make that ink visible in here. Tell me honestly, have you guys ever tried this with the Declaration?"
"No, you understand this is a priceless cultural artifact, so we've always been extremely careful in preserving it."
"Well, you may have missed some crucial evidence because of that caution. I'm becoming more convinced that this legendary treasure actually exists," Ron walked over to the desk. "What's the deal with these letters?"
"Let me check," the staff member fired up the computer. "Found it. When Franklin was fifteen, he impersonated a middle-aged widow named Silence Dogood and wrote fourteen letters to his brother's newspaper... that's them right there."
"Why would he do that? Just for kicks?" Ron said with surprise. "Or maybe there's something special about these letters themselves. Let me guess—there's no mention of treasure in these letters. They're just discussing boring everyday topics, right?"
"Exactly." The staff member nodded, and the old man asked with interest, "Why, have you figured something out?"
"Well," Ron nodded. "I'm betting Mr. Franklin didn't do this just for fun, and the fact that these letters showed up here means Mr. Gates also believes they're connected to the treasure."
The old Mason was even more impressed. "So what's your play? Should I keep my people searching for the elder Gates?"
"Of course we need to find him, but the priority isn't getting information out of him anymore. The key is to stay cool on the surface while secretly monitoring him. Think about it—we've now confirmed there are two groups who stole the Declaration, and one of them is a hardcore crew with firepower.
What are they going to do when they lose their lead? These treasure hunters aren't bound by rules and regulations like we are. They'll do absolutely anything. I guarantee they'll start considering some unconventional tactics real soon.
We don't need to bust our asses chasing the suspect. As long as we keep tabs on old man Gates, we don't have to do jack—just wait patiently."
Ron's eyes grew sharper. "If this were a video game, I'd want to use a cheat code and skip straight to the final boss level. What do you think?"
"Absolutely, that's brilliant tactical thinking. Like I said from the beginning, you're calling the shots," the old man agreed.
...
Five days later.
Gates, who looked identical to Nicolas Cage, accompanied the newly recruited Dr. Chase and his small team of followers to Philadelphia to decode Silence Dogood's letters.
They theorized that the mysterious cipher they found on the back of the Declaration was an Ottendorf cipher—a code that uses numbers to represent specific letters in a particular text, forming sentences.
Following this new lead, they traveled to New York.
The treasure hunter with the scraggly hair handed Gates a pipe and a briefcase: "The meerschaum pipe and the Declaration of Independence are yours now. So tell me, where's my treasure?"
"It's right here. The map says 'Heere at the Wall,'" Gates pointed to Wall Street behind him. "Wall Street used to be where there was an actual wall. It was the main defense the Dutch built against the British. It was called Heere Street, with two e's. Later, when the British took over, this street was renamed Wall Street. Yes, that's what the map is pointing to."
After saying this, Gates grabbed the two items the treasure hunter had promised and started to leave, but was stopped:
"Hold up, is that all the map says?"
"That's everything."
"Well, if you're right, then I want you to take me there. Don't even think about objecting," the treasure hunter said with a confident smirk, nodding toward the street. "Take a look across the road first."
The back door of the SUV across the street opened, and old man Gates was tied to the seat with duct tape. Even his mouth was taped shut, so he could only make muffled sounds.
"Got anything else you want to share with me now?" The treasure hunter nodded smugly, and the car door slammed shut again.
"Okay, Trinity Church. We're going to Trinity Church—that's the final location the map indicates." Gates had no choice but to reveal the clue he'd discovered.
"Perfect, perfect. Why don't you call Dr. Chase and your little sidekick to join us? I'm sure they're nearby." The treasure hunter patted his shoulder with satisfaction.
At the same time, the exact same conversation was happening across the street at the Starbucks, but the old Mason patted Ron on the shoulder and said, "Excellent, just excellent! You tracked them down with virtually no effort."
The old man was no fool. Ron's attitude had been so transparent, he must have realized his cover was blown, so...
Fine, I'm the boss here. No more games.
The old man directly revealed his identity as a thirty-second degree Mason. This rank was significant—nearly the highest level within the Masonic hierarchy, which showed just how much the Masons valued this treasure.
However, after spending a few days together, Ron found the old man was actually pretty easy to work with. Ron munched on a cheap hot dog while observing the situation across the street.
"That wasn't exactly rocket science. If these treasure hunters had done their homework, they would've come up with more sophisticated tactics instead of resorting to these crude kidnapping and extortion methods."
The old Mason's eyes filled with even greater admiration: "So when do you think we should make our move?"
"No rush—just tail them from a distance. After all this time, they've even resorted to kidnapping. I'm betting they've found the location of the final treasure. We just need to surround the area and grab them when they surface."
"Or if you're worried there might be another way out down there, for safety's sake and to minimize casualties, I suggest I go down alone with them."
The treasure hunters loaded Gates into their vehicle, preparing to move out. Ron signaled, and a surveillance car immediately pulled out to follow.
The old Mason's weathered eyes suddenly became razor-sharp: "Three."
"What?" Ron was confused by the old man's sudden declaration.
"I'll allow you to take no more than three items from that treasure vault. Everything else belongs to the American people," the old man said sternly.
"Ha, what are you talking about? I don't think I follow you." Ron chuckled nervously, trying to play dumb, but the old man fixed him with an unwavering stare.
"Do I need to remind you about that golden Buddha you brought back from that Bangkok operation?"
"Alright," Ron said, throwing up his hands in surrender. If they were bringing up the Bangkok job, it was clear they'd done their homework on him. "I promise I'll only take three items. Can we move out now?"
Ron agreed, but internally he wasn't buying it. I've still got my storage space. Good luck finding anything I stash in there.
"No problem, let's roll," the old man said, raising his hand as a government sedan slowly pulled up in front of the Starbucks.
At Trinity Church, Gates, armed with the final clue, found the entrance hidden behind the tomb. He and the treasure hunter went inside, and Ron followed them to the cave entrance.
"Seriously? Such a tiny hole?" Ron complained, looking at the opening left by the displaced coffin. Finally, he gritted his teeth and crawled through.
And then, just like in some adventure novel, it was extremely narrow at first, barely wide enough for one person...
After crawling nearly thirty feet, they finally reached a massive underground chamber. Wooden stairs led down along the chamber walls. From the top, Ron could hear the treasure hunters chattering below.
Gates pointed downward and said, "Look, there's a pulley system over there. Let's go down that way."
"How did people build something like this with primitive tools?" one treasure hunter marveled.
"Same way they built the pyramids and the Great Wall of China."
"Yeah, aliens helped them."
"Aliens are pretty unlikely. After all, there's no solid evidence that extraterrestrials ever visited Earth and helped ancient civilizations build these incredible structures. I'd rather believe these are the products of human ingenuity and hard work. What do you think?"
Ron, who had somehow blended in with the treasure hunters, interrupted their discussion.
"Whatever, let's keep moving." The scraggly-haired treasure hunter took two steps forward before suddenly realizing something was off. He spun around, drawing his weapon as he turned. "Who the hell are you?!"
"Bang!" Ron shot the treasure hunter before he could fully raise his gun.
"Didn't your mama teach you that pointing a gun at someone is impolite?"
Ron pressed his pistol against the treasure hunter leader's temple. "And before asking someone's name, it's proper etiquette to introduce yourself first. Basic manners."
"My name is... Bang!" The treasure hunter was halfway through when Ron pulled the trigger.
"Sorry, I'm not interested in learning dead men's names."
The treasure had been located, and these treasure hunters were essentially criminals. From this point forward, every breath they took was a waste of taxpayer dollars. For economic efficiency, Ron put them out of their misery quickly.
Realizing the situation had gone sideways, the treasure hunter's remaining men attacked Ron from both flanks—one immediately grabbing him from behind while the other lunged for his weapon, trying to wrestle it away.
But no matter how fast they moved, how could they outmaneuver Ron?
"Bang!" Ron dropped the gun-grabbing thug with a quick shot, then was immediately bear-hugged by the treasure hunter behind him.
But what good did that do? Ron stomped hard on the guy's instep, sending him crashing to the ground clutching his foot and screaming.
But before he could even get a full scream out, Ron shoved the barrel into his mouth: "Say goodbye to this beautiful world, asshole!"
"Mmph!" The treasure hunter whimpered before his head exploded like a watermelon.
"Bang!" Blood sprayed across the woman standing nearby.
Ron flicked open his revolver's cylinder, and three spent shells and two live rounds fell into his palm. He discarded the empties and loaded fresh ammunition along with the two remaining bullets. With another snap, the cylinder locked back in place, and the revolver was ready to fire. He holstered it smoothly.
The most terrifying part was that the entire process took less than two seconds!
Everyone understood what this meant: Ron could end anyone's life here at any moment.
"Hello there, beautiful. You must be Dr. Chase," Ron said, resting his hand on his holster while eyeing the remaining three men with predatory intent.
"I'm IRS Agent Cooper, and I've been ordered to recover the original Declaration of Independence and rescue the hostages. I need to know if any of these three men have been coercing you?"
Gates and his sidekick were scared witless and quickly signaled to Dr. Chase with frantic looks. Dr. Chase said hurriedly:
"No, not at all. We're all on the same team. Those three you just killed were the bad guys. They had eight more associates topside.
We protected the Declaration with them, and we also discovered a treasure vault behind it, which is here. Wait, how do I know you're legit?"
"I already sent those eight associates to meet their maker. This is a church—I figured they could reach their destination faster." Ron flashed his federal credentials.
Dr. Chase was finally relieved the moment she saw Ron's badge, but still held her ground: "Okay, I believe you, but please understand that I can't just hand this over to you. I have to personally return it to the museum myself."
"You said the treasure is down there?" Ron stepped forward and jumped onto the pulley platform. "Take me down to see it."
Gates was speechless. He put his torch to the brazier and lit it. The remaining fuel in the brazier immediately flowed along channels and ignited all the other braziers throughout the chamber. The flames illuminated the entire treasure vault, and then the light reflected back to Ron from countless gold artifacts, nearly blinding him.
"Holy shit!" Ron couldn't help but swear. "What's all this stuff worth?!"
The firelight revealed a treasure vault the size of a football stadium, packed wall-to-wall with every kind of treasure imaginable!
(End of chapter)
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