TEMPLARS QUEST: LUCEM SANCTAM (THE TEMPLARS QUEST CHRONICLES: A Historical Mystery Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: Thomas H. Ward
Route 77. Then go north for 50 miles to Indian Wells. All of a sudden a bell rang in my brain. This could be the route the bandits took. Maybe some Navajos did see them.
Baldwin peered at me and said, “Are you thinking what I am?”
“Yeah, this could be the route that the kidnappers took.”
“Bingo! Baldwin shouted, “Everyone, get ready to move out!”
Glancing at my watch it was already 11 am. Baldwin gave orders for the convoy to keep in a tight formation. We mounted up; as usual Maggie and the dogs were riding with me. It felt weird that Adam wasn’t sitting next to me.
As we were about to roll out, Black Horse came up to my window. “Jack, I think you should know that White Feather is acting strange. He told me when we get to Indian Wells he wants to leave and go to the Hopi Nation. It is not far from Indian Wells, just 10 or 20 miles away.”
“Ok, thanks for telling me, Black Horse.” As he returned to his truck I thought, White Feather isn’t going anywhere until he helps us find Adam.
Maggie overheard Black Horse. “I can’t believe that White Feather wants to leave our group. Are you gonna let him?”
“Of course not,” I replied. “He’s not going anywhere until we find Adam.”
I punched the gas as the convoy took off at a top speed of 45 mph. Damn it, I wish these Hummers were faster.
Once we entered the reservation, Route 77 changed into Navajo Route 6. An hour and a half later, we arrived at the small town of Indian Wells, without incident. It’s actually located about half a mile off of Navajo Route 6, on Navajo Route 15.
Indian Wells is a small town out in the middle of nowhere. It’s an unincorporated community located in Navajo County on the Navajo Reservation. The scenery is spectacular. This area is part of the Painted Desert, and it has many high buttes popping up in the colorful landscape. A picture is worth a thousand words. Words can’t describe the beauty and peacefulness found here. Driving over 50 miles we hadn’t seen a single person.
To our surprise, nothing was in Indian Wells other than a few homes, a couple of businesses, and a school. The convoy pulled over, and stopped on the side of the road, next to the school. White Feather was riding in the pickup behind mine, along with Black Horse and Billy.
I approached the truck and opened the door. Peering in at White Feather, I asked, “Where should we go?”
“You wanted to speak to someone to see if the trucks passed by here. Then this is the place. The guard at this school is my friend. If they came by here, then he saw them. His name is Jimmy Two Times.”
“How’d he get the name Two Times?”
“In the old days he would shoot everything two times to make sure it was dead. It’s his nickname. He used to be a Navajo Reservation Police Officer.”
White Feather and I walked up to the school’s front door. As we approached, a man dressed in a blue uniform, wearing a black cowboy hat, came outside. He carried an AK47, which was pointed at us, and wore a revolver on his hip. I stopped and raised my hands, showing I meant him no harm.
White Feather yelled, “Jimmy Two Times, put that gun down! It’s me, White Feather.”
He replied, “White Feather, what are you doing here?” Jimmy kept walking towards us until he was within a couple of feet. He still kept his gun pointed at me, which was making me a little uneasy. “Who is this man?”
“He is my friend. The white eyes came here searching for some nomads who kidnapped his grandson.”
Jimmy pointed his weapon towards the ground. I reached out my hand. “Hello, my name is Jack Gunn.” He shook my hand with a firm grip. Jimmy was an older man whom I guessed to be about 60 years old. His facial characteristics clearly looked different than White Feathers.
“Howdy, Mr. Gunn. I am Jimmy Two Times. Sorry to hear your grandson was taken. There are a lot of bad people out there. That’s why I stand guard here
Baldwin peered at me and said, “Are you thinking what I am?”
“Yeah, this could be the route that the kidnappers took.”
“Bingo! Baldwin shouted, “Everyone, get ready to move out!”
Glancing at my watch it was already 11 am. Baldwin gave orders for the convoy to keep in a tight formation. We mounted up; as usual Maggie and the dogs were riding with me. It felt weird that Adam wasn’t sitting next to me.
As we were about to roll out, Black Horse came up to my window. “Jack, I think you should know that White Feather is acting strange. He told me when we get to Indian Wells he wants to leave and go to the Hopi Nation. It is not far from Indian Wells, just 10 or 20 miles away.”
“Ok, thanks for telling me, Black Horse.” As he returned to his truck I thought, White Feather isn’t going anywhere until he helps us find Adam.
Maggie overheard Black Horse. “I can’t believe that White Feather wants to leave our group. Are you gonna let him?”
“Of course not,” I replied. “He’s not going anywhere until we find Adam.”
I punched the gas as the convoy took off at a top speed of 45 mph. Damn it, I wish these Hummers were faster.
Once we entered the reservation, Route 77 changed into Navajo Route 6. An hour and a half later, we arrived at the small town of Indian Wells, without incident. It’s actually located about half a mile off of Navajo Route 6, on Navajo Route 15.
Indian Wells is a small town out in the middle of nowhere. It’s an unincorporated community located in Navajo County on the Navajo Reservation. The scenery is spectacular. This area is part of the Painted Desert, and it has many high buttes popping up in the colorful landscape. A picture is worth a thousand words. Words can’t describe the beauty and peacefulness found here. Driving over 50 miles we hadn’t seen a single person.
To our surprise, nothing was in Indian Wells other than a few homes, a couple of businesses, and a school. The convoy pulled over, and stopped on the side of the road, next to the school. White Feather was riding in the pickup behind mine, along with Black Horse and Billy.
I approached the truck and opened the door. Peering in at White Feather, I asked, “Where should we go?”
“You wanted to speak to someone to see if the trucks passed by here. Then this is the place. The guard at this school is my friend. If they came by here, then he saw them. His name is Jimmy Two Times.”
“How’d he get the name Two Times?”
“In the old days he would shoot everything two times to make sure it was dead. It’s his nickname. He used to be a Navajo Reservation Police Officer.”
White Feather and I walked up to the school’s front door. As we approached, a man dressed in a blue uniform, wearing a black cowboy hat, came outside. He carried an AK47, which was pointed at us, and wore a revolver on his hip. I stopped and raised my hands, showing I meant him no harm.
White Feather yelled, “Jimmy Two Times, put that gun down! It’s me, White Feather.”
He replied, “White Feather, what are you doing here?” Jimmy kept walking towards us until he was within a couple of feet. He still kept his gun pointed at me, which was making me a little uneasy. “Who is this man?”
“He is my friend. The white eyes came here searching for some nomads who kidnapped his grandson.”
Jimmy pointed his weapon towards the ground. I reached out my hand. “Hello, my name is Jack Gunn.” He shook my hand with a firm grip. Jimmy was an older man whom I guessed to be about 60 years old. His facial characteristics clearly looked different than White Feathers.
“Howdy, Mr. Gunn. I am Jimmy Two Times. Sorry to hear your grandson was taken. There are a lot of bad people out there. That’s why I stand guard here
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