Both she and Garin had seen Michaels have his men execute Reinhardt and Mitchell. There was no way that Michaels would let them go free as a result. There was a chance that Garin was already dead, but Annja doubted Michaels would throw away his ace in the hole easily. With Garin alive he could force her cooperation. With him dead, there was nothing stopping Annja from going to the police with everything she knew.

No, she suspected that Michaels would live up to his end of the agreement, at least until he had the whereabouts of the treasure guaranteed.

When that happened, all bets were off. There was nothing stopping Michaels from putting a bullet in both of them at that point except Annja’s own ingenuity. She had to find a way to get Garin out into the open before turning over the coordinates. That way she’d have a chance of getting them both out of this mess alive.

Perhaps Tallulah Gorge was the answer she’d been looking for in more ways than one.

With the police actively seeking her, there was no way she could risk getting on a flight. She was going to have to make the trip from Pennsylvania to Georgia by car, a drive of about twelve hours, if she did it without stopping.

She glanced at the clock and did some quick mental arithmetic. If all went well, she’d arrive at the Gorge with barely an hour to spare before the end of Michaels’s deadline.

Theoretically speaking, it was doable, but that didn’t take into account the events of the past few days. The constant travel combined with her need to be up all night in order to recover the chest from the cemetery had left her dead on her feet. There was no way she was going to be able to make a twelve-hour drive without getting some sleep first. But doing so meant she would fail to meet Michaels’s deadline.

In order to pull it off, she was going to need some help.

“…it’ll be the best episode we’ve ever had!”

She realized with a start that Doug had been speaking to her the whole time. She hadn’t heard a word he’d said nor did she have time to deal with whatever cockamamie plan he’d come up with, so she did what she always did when Doug went off on one of his rabbit trails; she ignored him.

“I’m going to need you to arrange for a car and driver for me, Doug.”

“I know I can get the network’s approval and…wait a minute! What?”

“I need a car and a driver. There’s no way I can make the drive to Tallulah Gorge on my own. You’re going to have to arrange to have someone meet me somewhere. Maybe Richmond?”

Doug tried to catch up with her line of thought. “Tallulah Gorge? Why are you going there?”

“I don’t have time to explain, Doug. Can you get me a car and driver or not?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know, Annja. The cops are already crawling all over me because of that diving equipment I arranged for you. I spent half the day at the police station answering questions and for all I know they’re bugging my telephone!”

That explained the pay phone.

Still, time was ticking and she didn’t have any to waste. Michaels’s deadline was looming closer with every minute.

“A man’s life is at stake, Doug. I need that car!”

“All right, all right. Give me a minute,” he said.

The street sounds got louder as he took the pay phone receiver away from his ear and then she could hear the beeping of his cell phone as he clicked through different screens. She could hear him start speaking to someone on the other line and she tapped her foot impatiently.

There was a rustle as he picked up the phone again and said, “You said Richmond, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s, uh, in Virginia, right?”

Annja sighed. “Yes, Doug, that’s in Virginia.”

“Cool. Hang on…”

It took him another couple of minutes, and a few more questions, but in the end the arrangements were made. She would meet her driver in the parking lot of the Marriott Hotel just after seven that morning, as the drive to Richmond would take Annja about two hours. A phone call to the rental car company would inform them of the location of their vehicle and the driver would then chauffeur Annja the rest of the way to Georgia. Once in Tallulah Falls, the driver would leave the vehicle with Annja and she could use it for as long as she needed.

“Thank you, Doug,” she told him, when he’d finished relaying the details. “You’re a lifesaver. Literally.”

“Yeah, sure. Just get this squared away quickly, will ya? Once you do we can get started on the fugitive episode. I can’t wait!”

Alarm bells began ringing in the back of her mind. Just what had she missed earlier when she hadn’t been listening?

“What are you talking about? What fugitive episode?”

Apparently she wasn’t the only one with selective hearing. “Good luck! Call me once you catch up with the driver,” he said, and then hung up.

That was twice now that he’d gotten the better of her. Clearly she was slipping.

38

Two hours later Annja found herself driving through downtown Richmond, right past the very house Jefferson Davis had used to run his presidency. The White House of the Confederacy, as it was now called, was the centerpiece of a museum devoted to the era and Annja found herself wishing she had the time to wander through the halls, to see with her own eyes the artifacts and exhibits on display there, to try and better understand the man who had ordered the treasury moved in the first place.

But she wasn’t here as a tourist and she drove past, telling herself that she’d return some other time, when her life was less hectic.

Whenever that might be.

She found the Marriott Hotel without difficulty, parked her car and went inside. She was thinking of approaching the concierge and asking for assistance in locating her driver when she spotted two young guys in their early twenties, dressed in dark suits, one of them carrying a hand-lettered sign that read Chasing History’s Monsters.

So much for keeping a low profile, she thought. She hoped she could get out of there quickly before anyone noticed her.

Annja strode over to the pair and introduced herself. The two men, David and Andrew, were complete professionals and it wasn’t long before Annja was resting comfortably in the back of a Cadillac, David behind the wheel, while Andrew drove her rental car back to his apartment. He would hold on to it for twenty-four hours before returning it to the Richmond airport in her name. By then things would have unfolded one way or another with Michaels, and she’d no longer be worried about the local authorities getting a fix on her location.

Good or bad, it would all be over by then.

She intended to use the time to get some sleep, but first she had to set the stage for Garin’s eventual rescue.

She pulled out the phone she’d taken from Michaels’s henchman in the airport—what felt like a lifetime ago—and dialed the number she’d memorized.

It rang several times before being answered. “Yes?” said a gruff French voice.

“Get me Michaels.”

The man in question must have been sitting right there, for the pause was only a few seconds.

“Do you have what I need, Miss Creed?”

Damn right I do, she thought as an image of her sword loomed large in her mind, but she answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“Excellent. I have lived up to my part of the bargain, as well. Your friend, Mr. Braden, is alive and well.”

Mr. Braden? Garin had given his real name. She wondered what that meant and what other surprises Michaels might have in store for her, but knew she’d find out soon enough.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she asked, putting everything else out of her mind for the time being. One thing at a time, Annja, she thought, calming her anger.

There was silence on the line for a moment and Annja was just about to repeat her question when she heard a muffled sound as the phone changed hands.