Through the Tunnels Below

Chapter 1

A tree fell into the clearing with a loud crash and shook the ground.

"Nice work men." said Eli Mayron a medium-sized, strong man with black hair and a goatee. He was wearing a dark blue, Old Navy tank top with khaki shorts. His muscles bulged out from under his skin. He held an axe in one of his callused and rough hands and sweat rolled down his body. Jacob Sarcome walked over and patted him on the shoulder with a cow-hide glove. They had been friends from child hood. He was around the same height and had a red beard and hair, and a thin mouth with the corners always uplifted.

"We did it." Jacob said, letting out a huge sigh.

"Were not done yet, let's start chopping it up." Eli said, and they both walked over to the fallen tree.

******

Professor Abraham sighed, peering though the blinds to see if the mail had come yet. He sat down in his office chair and messed with his dark brown hair. He heard a car pull up alongside the building. The Professor sprang out of his chair and ran towards the door, the mail man was just pulling out of the driveway by the time Professor Abraham slammed the mailbox closed with the mail in his hand. He walked into his office and sat back down in his chair, behind the desk. He placed the letters on the desk and ripped open the one which said: TOP SECRET-CONFIDENTIAL. He snatched the letter out and read the following:

Dear Professor Abraham,

It has been my duty to inform you of the company's decisions.

Due to the public outcry, we are forced to abandon all ideas of

the new office in London. And also to leave our newly established

business in Virginia.

Sincerely, Robert M. Makonson president of the A.A.P. (Association of the Archeologist Profession)

Professor Abraham slammed his fist on the table sending a few pens and pencils clattering to the floor. He was red in the face and he was staring out the window mumbling;

"I cannot give that up! It's too precious!"

At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." The professor said, and quickly sat down and hid the letter. A man stepped in with a bundle of papers under his arm.

"Here you are professor." the man said, and laid the papers on the desk, then he walked away. Professor Abraham picked up a phone on the table and dialed a number.

"Hello?" a voice said on the other line.

"Hello. This is Professor Abraham."

"And this is Robert M. Makonson, president of the A.A.P. What do you want?

"Sir. I have read your letter, and with all due respect, we cannot do this!"

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because there are some extremely valuable things in Virginia!"

"We have not found anything there."

"Yes, but I know it's there! There are so many clues to it. It's just a matter of finding it!"

"There is no more point in this conversation. My mind is made up, and I'm not going back on it. Good bye." The receiver clicked, then contented itself in humming a steady tune. Professor Abraham threw the phone across the room, where it slammed into the wall. He sat there for more than a half an hour, with his hands on his forehead, letting his anger brood inside of himself. Then his head whipped up, and a smile crept up his face. He walked across the floor and picked up the phone that was still humming. He dialed a number and set the phone between his ear and his shoulder and he stared out the slits in the blinds.

"Hello?" said a dark, husky voice.

"Spike, this is Professor Abraham."

"Oh, Professor, what do you want from me?"

"I want Robert M. Makonson dead."

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