The Treasure of the Penelope

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: You may already know I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: Following my story Into Africa.

This is a sequel to Into Africa. I've tried to explain the backstory, but you might want to read it if you haven't already. Don't worry, I'll be right here and won't start this story until you're back.

The two hadn't dug down more than a few feet when another discovery drew everyone back to the headquarters trench.

"Shackles?" Buddy said, scratching his head. "Why would a bunch of ex-slaves keep shackles around?"

"Probably to remind them of where they'd come from and what they'd go back to if the lost. "Beta replied.

It wasn't until the next day that they began to dig up what was now called Rick's Busted Cannon.

"Hey, we got something." Buddy called from in the hole. "It's some kind of metal case. Pretty big, too. About three feet by four feet." Buddy dug more dirt away from the case. "There don't appear to be any handles or anything on it. There's a winch on Alicia's Jeep. We can pull it up if we can get a rope under it.

They pulled the Jeep up to the hole and rigged the winch as Buddy dug further.

"Damn! There's more than one case down here. I'll have to work a bit to get a rope under one of 'em."

Kate looked at the sun. "It'll be dark in a bit. You could get hurt working in the dark. Come on out and we'll get started early tomorrow."

"Kate, it'll just take a bit and…"

"And you work for Kate, soldier." Rick said.

"Yes, sir." Buddy replied, dejectedly.

The next morning, using a pry bar, Buddy got a rope under the metal case and they hauled it out. They were so busy that they never heard Clark and his men arrive.

"That's enough." Clark said. "My men will take over now." Clark had four men armed with shotguns with him. "Everyone get over there and lay down and no one will get hurt. Now move."

Everyone but Sissy moved.

"Sissy, I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will if you don't move."

Sissy smiled at him. "You look like a desperate man and a desperate man won't leave anyone alive behind. What do you say we partner up?" With that, Sissy pulled her tee shirt over her head. Her boobs were definitely D cups, very firm and capped with large pinkish nipples. Sissy shook them. They bounced very enticingly. Clark and his men stared at her.

That was when Sissy pulled a snub nosed .38 from the back pocket of her shorts and shot Clark in the stomach. As he fell, she took a quick step to him and pointed the gun at his head.

"If you four don't put down your guns, I'll blow your boss' head off. Then who'll pay you?"

The four, who apparently hadn't been hired for their brains, just stared at their boss and at a topless, well- armed, blonde.

While they were mesmerized, Buddy rolled to his rifle and pointed it at them.

"And I'll get some of you if you want to fight. Who wants to die?"

The four looked at each other and for a long minute no one moved. Then one of the thugs dropped his shotgun. Rick and George grabbed their rifles. That did it. The other three dropped their weapons and held up their hands.

"Okay, who gets to call 911 this time?" Buddy asked.

It took the police only minutes to arrive, four cruisers this time and an ambulance, followed in short order by Sheriff Bloodstone.

As Buddy explained what had happened, Rick walked over to the case they'd pulled out.

"This sure as hell isn't from the Revolutionary War. It's marked property of the US Army Medical Corps and has their insignia on it. Should we open it?"

"That's evidence in a crime investigation, Major." The Sheriff said. "We won't be opening it until we have someone who can properly authenticate it and we can inventory its contents."

"I can see more cases like this down there."

"We'll get someone from the county to pull them out. Now, everyone, we need to take everyone's statement. And Sissy, will you put on your damned shirt or my men'll never get a damn thing done."

Sissy just laughed and shook her boobs at him until an embarrassed George handed her the tee shirt.

Rick wasn't all that surprised when Captain Ron Fields showed up to evaluate the contents of the cases.

"Rick, you live the most interesting life. Who would have thought that an archeological dig in North Carolina could be so interesting?"

"And to think I was dreading doing nothing but paperwork for a couple of years. Now I'm looking forward to it, Ron."

"Time for me to evaluate your find. Care to join me?"

"Why not?"

They opened up the case and Ron pulled out some faded pieces of paper.

"Aha! This is interesting."

"Captain Fields?" Rick said, threateningly.

"These are opioid ampules. From the date on these documents, they're from 1942. Back then most painkillers were based on opium."

"How did they end up here?"

Ron just shrugged.

It wasn't for another day that they found out when Sheriff Bloodstone arrived along with Congressman Johnson. By this time, the dig was surrounded by the media and tourists, held back by the police.

Bloodstone gathered everyone around.

"Clark isn't saying anything, but his lawyers are trying to say be was kidnapped by those four men and forced to help them. But the men can't stop talking. It seems that back in early 1942, at the start of WWII, German U Boats were running wild on the East Coast of the US, sinking ships left and right. A ship was torpedoed right offshore and three men got a lifeboat and made it to shore. Knowing they had a valuable cargo of drugs on their ship, they grabbed a half a dozen cases of drugs, probably planning to sell them and live the good life. As luck would have it, old Buck Clark, Mike Clark's bootlegging grandpa was on the shore. He told the men he could help them sell the drugs, what with his bootlegging contacts. They buried the cases and then Buck shot the three men. He put them back in their lifeboat and pushed them out to sea. I reckon they were never found."

"Why didn't he dig up the drugs later?" Kate asked.

"Old Buck was a mean, vicious man. He was suspected in the murders of a half a dozen rival bootleggers, but no one ever proved anything. However, Buck ended up with a bullet in his head not long after that. He was a suspicious old boy and all he ever told his son about where it was, was that it was somewhere on Queenstown Point. Jim Clark, the son, tried sneaking out here to dig for it, but like people say, dig a hole anywhere around here and folks think you're after the lost British gold. Jim dug a hole one night and when he came back, there were a dozen people all digging holes. The last thing he wanted was to have someone else find those drugs. He just couldn't think of a way to search for them without getting half the state digging right along with him. He died without ever figuring out how."

"But why did Clark do this?" Kate asked. "He was the chicken king of North Carolina. He was rich."

"He wanted to be the chicken king of the South and more, and according to his men, he was what they call overextended. He had a real cash flow problem. He was headed for bankruptcy and he was grasping at straws. He figured if he could run you off, he'd bribe the town council into letting him expand his chicken farm onto Queenstown Point, then he'd bring in digging machinery until he found the drugs and, cash flow problem solved. When he saw you were getting ready to haul something heavy out of the ground, he knew he had to move and move fast. He'd probably have had to leave his chicken farm behind, but he'd have enough drug money to live well. You know the rest."

"You don't know quite all of the rest." Ron Fields said, smiling and stepping forward. "I found something stuck to the bottom of the deepest case." Ron held out a shiny golden object. "This is a British half guinea gold coin, dated 1779. "

Everyone's eyes went to the still open pit.

"Do you mean…" Rick asked. He didn't have time to finish because everyone was running to the pit.

Buddy was the first in the hole.

"Oh, my GOD!" He yelled, digging with his hands. "It's here. The British gold is here. They're here, people. Look!" He handed up a dozen coins.

"My grandpa was right!"

Everyone turned to Congressman Johnson.

"Would you care to share with the class, Congressman?" Kate asked.

"As I told you, my ancestors were from around here back during the Revolution and escaped to Queenstown. They fled to Canada after the war was over. My grandpa moved to New York from Canada for a job. My dad came to North Carolina in the sixties to register black voters. He fell in love with my mom here and stayed."

"But what about grandpa?" Buddy asked.

"He had a million stories, and frankly, most of them were BS. One story he told was about Captain King, the leader of the ex-slaves here in Queenstown. He said King didn't trust the British or any white people to keep their word to a bunch of black people. He went out scouting and found the lost gold. He buried it under his house, intending to dig it up and run away with his people if the British sold them out. By the time it was obvious that the British were going to take everyone with them when they left, it was a little late to say, "Oops! About this gold I took a couple of years ago." He left it here, but I guess he told the story to his family in Canada and it was passed down through the generations. I always thought it was just another of his BS stories. Like I said, he had a million of them."

"So who gets the gold?" Sissy asked.

"I guess the courts will have to decide that."

"That means lawyers will get most of it, one way or another." Buddy said.