See you in the next one,
Ernest
Other books by Ernest dempsey
Dak Harper Origin Stories:
Out of the Fire
You Only Die Once
Tequila Sunset
Purgatory
Scorched Earth
The Heart of Vengeance
Sean Wyatt Adventures:
The Secret of the Stones
The Cleric's Vault
The Last Chamber
The Grecian Manifesto
The Norse Directive
Game of Shadows
The Jerusalem Creed
The Samurai Cipher
The Cairo Vendetta
The Uluru Code
The Excalibur Key
The Denali Deception
The Sahara Legacy
The Fourth Prophecy
The Templar Curse
The Forbidden Temple
The Omega Project
The Napoleon Affair
The Second Sign
Adriana Villa Adventures:
War of Thieves Box Set
When Shadows Call
Shadows Rising
Shadow Hour
The Adventure Guild:
The Caesar Secret: Books 1-3
The Carolina Caper
Beta Force:
Operation Zulu
London Calling
Paranormal Archaeology Division:
Hell’s Gate
Acknowledgments
Big thanks to my editor Anne Storer and all the readers who helped out while the book was being written and posted each day on my website. I can’t thank you enough. There were so many of you kind enough to send your comments. I appreciate you.
For Edward
Copyright © 2020 by Ernest Dempsey
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All places, people, locations, and events are fictional or used in a fictional context. Any resemblance to any of those things real or otherwise, are purely coincidental.
Secret Chapter
Two Years Later | Colima, Mexico
Dak sat back in his desk chair and flipped open the gray laptop.
Through the huge window pane beyond the desk, the titanic volcano Volcán de Colima spewed a steady stream of ash and smoke into the crystal blue sky.
He’d been here for the last year, finally settling down for more than a few months in one place. Prior to arriving in Colima, Dak had bounced around from place to place. He spent three months in Ecuador, just outside of Quenca. Then there were stints in Split, Croatia, the New Zealand countryside, the Greek Island of Andros, back to South America and Chile, Panama, and finally Mexico.
His movements were random and sporadic enough that it would make tracking him nearly impossible. After two years of running, he was ready to plant his feet somewhere. Unfortunately, with the former colonel still out there and desperate for revenge, settling down wouldn’t be the smart play. Then again, staying on the run all the time was hardly living. It was surviving, sure, but it was no way to live.
He’d been getting by, mostly on the money his ex-teammates had left behind. With the exception of Carson, whose money went to the bookkeepers in Miami, Will had managed to track down most of the funds the guys from the team had squirreled away. Bo had been a little more creative with where he stashed his money, but the others had gone to the usual places where that people tried attempted to hide their dirty money. Their lack of creativity had made it fairly easy for Will to get all the proper authorizations to make huge withdrawals.
Dak had told Will he could keep everything he found, but Will wouldn’t hear of it, and he split the money with Dak.
With all of his basic needs taken care of for the rest of his life, Dak could have rested a little easier at night, but he knew that would be folly. Colonel Tucker would never give up, chasing Dak relentlessly until judgment day arrived.
Something else crept up on Dak through the days, weeks, and months. It was a sinister enemy, one that had appeared innocently enough initially, but had grown into a troublesome adversary. He was bored.
Coming from a life where he was almost always on high-alert, perpetually ready for action, his new life—he discovered—had become overrun with boredom. He felt the itch to do something. He played the guitar a little, but not enough to be professional. A few other hobbies occupied some of his time, but for the most part, Dak felt incomplete. He’d been channeling most of his mental energy to surviving, watching his back, making sure he was careful. Come to think of it, Dak couldn’t recall doing something just for the fun of it in in—forever.
He sighed and turned on his VPN, then opened the browser and logged into his email account.
There wasn’t much to see.
Dak had started a private security firm, more to occupy the his time than anything else. That kind of work paid well for ex-military guys like him, but it was difficult to get clients without popping his head up above water where Colonel Tucker could might see it. He’d worked a few jobs for Carina Perez, the scourge of Mexican cartels. She paid well, but the jobs she had to offer were few and far between, which put Dak on his rear for long stretches.
He scrolled through the usual minutia: bills, spammy offers that should have gone to junk mail, discounts on various products he used, and then, he stopped midway down the first page page,when an email subject line caught his eye.
It said, “Adventurer wanted.”
Dak’s eyelids narrowed and his forehead tightened at the strange subject line. He didn’t recognize the sender, but from the looks of his email server’s analysis, there was nothing threatening about the message.
He clicked it and waited, half-expecting a warning to pop up alerting to alert him to of a virus being downloaded to his laptop.
Instead, a normal text email appeared.
“Dear DH Security Services.” Dak read the first line aloud, and his puzzlement deepened. “I am looking for someone, someone with the ability to recover ancient artifacts from bad people. These artifacts
