Read Online Hunt at the Well of Eternity by Gabriel Hunt, James Reasoner - Free Book Online

Civil War. Mexico has had so many we lose track of them.”
    Carlos left Gabriel in front of the Civil War artifacts, but not before issuing a warning not to touch anything until Dr. Almanzar got there. Gabriel agreed. He leaned over the case where the flag was displayed and studied it through the glass.
    As Stephen Krakowski had said, it was a standard Confederate battle flag, two diagonal rows of stars intersecting in the middle of a red field. Tattered around the edges, and with a hole in it that had probably been made by a minié ball. Gabriel didn’t see anything unusual about it.
    He straightened as he heard the click of high heels in the hallway outside. Dr. Almanzar came in a moment later with a couple of pages she had printed out from the computer in her office.
    “This is actually quite interesting,” she said. “It seems that the museum acquired the flag from a private collector in Villahermosa in the early twentieth century.”
    “So it’s been here for a hundred years?”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Where did the private collector get it?”
    “That sort of information would not necessarily be in our records…but in this case, it is. The flag was handed down to him from his grandfather, who claimed it was given to him in return for a service by ‘the gringo warlord.’”
    “The gringo warlord?” Gabriel repeated.
    She showed him the section of the printout where that very phrase appeared. “There is apparently a legend in the Chiapas region of a white man from the north who came there to raise an army with the goal of returning to overthrow the invaders who had enslaved his homeland. He disappeared somewhere in the jungle along the border between Mexico and Guatemala and was never seen again.”
    “General Fargo?”
    Dr. Almanzar shrugged. “Perhaps. The warlord’s name is long since lost to history, Señor Hunt. But given the history of this flag, it seems at least a likely possibility.”
    “Chiapas is a pretty rough area,” Gabriel mused. “Lots of rebels down there.”
    Dr. Almanzar made a face. “Lots who call themselves rebels. Politics is often nothing more than an excuse for banditry. I don’t know why you are so interested in General Fargo, but if you are thinking of going to Chiapas to look for more information, I would advise against it. You might find yourself in much danger.”
    “I’m afraid I may not have a choice,” Gabriel said.
    “No academic pursuit is worth your life.” She paused. “But then I forget who I am talking to. You discovered that cult of assassins in Nepal, didn’t you? And lived to publish those photographs in National Geographic . Perhaps you like risking your life.”
    Gabriel didn’t respond to that comment. Instead he took a shot in the dark and asked, “Do you know a woman named Mariella Montez?”
    “Mariella Montez…?” After a moment’s thought the doctor shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. Although there’s something familiar about the name…” She looked at the printouts again. “That’s why, of course. The private collector who sold this flag to the museum, his name was Enrique Montez.”
    Gabriel felt a familiar thrill go through him, the thrill of knowing that he was on the trail of something important. The leads he’d managed to turn up, slender though they had been, were taking him in the right direction. His instincts had not betrayed him.
    Before he could say anything else, though, the sound of a heavy thump, like something falling to the floor, came through the open doorway. Dr. Almanzar heard it, too, and turned in that direction.
    “Carlos?” she called. “Are you all right?”
    There was no answer.
    Gabriel knew he might be overreacting, but he didn’t hesitate. Two long strides took him across the room, where he slapped the light switch off. He caught hold of Dr. Almanzar’s arm with his other hand as she crossed toward the doorway. Her bare arm was warm and firm in his grip. He said in an urgent whisper,