by Dina Rae
Several minutes went by with me standing there and staring through the window. Harper fumbled around her room without even noticing me. I finally tapped on the glass. She let out a soft scream. I smiled, let myself in the room, and sat in a student desk.
Harper’s room was normally spotless. Not today. It looked more like a frat house a few days before finals. Books and papers were randomly laid out on the floor, desks, and shelves. My heart rate sped up.
“Well?”
“Well what?” she asked back, obviously for the camera’s sake.
“We are free, remember?” I shut my mouth. The security team could have fixed it all over the weekend. “Well how about lunch?” I asked for the camera’s sake, although I did want to eat with her. “I forgot to bring mine. Got a taste for fried chicken.”
“Sounds good. I like how you are not one of those health food freaks. You look like you might be.”
I considered it a compliment. “I eat and drink what and when I want. But I do keep active. Used to smoke, but then it got too expensive.”
She smiled. “Me too. I like to run. I can space out, listen to music. I feel my most free.”
I knew exactly what she meant. The only privacy we truly had was inside of our heads.
She whispered, “I want in, Raphael.”
“Lunch. Can hardly wait.”
Harper nodded and stuffed six books into her backpack. She picked up the rest of the mess. I drifted across the hall and prepared for class.
My nine o’clock went off without a hitch. We talked about the legalities of protecting sources, leaks, and the old First Amendment before it was modified. My students were filled with questions. Justine Capriati or Gloria Prestwyck for once kept her mouth shut the entire period. Too good to be true, I thought. She hung out after class.
“I only have a few minutes until the next class rolls in. Say what you need to say, or make an appointment during my office hours,” I said robotically.
“I know what you are doing. You’re my hero. I will follow you like Mary Magdalene followed Jesus. Just say the word.”
“Jesus? I am a far cry from being anyone’s savior. Don’t even put me in the same sentence as Him. I have much more in common with the villain of that story. What was his name? Satan, right? Or maybe it was Gloria. Can’t remember,” I said, trying to play it cool. My hands started to shake. What the hell did she want from me already? I held onto the edge of desk.
“Because of you. You’ll see.” Justine or Gloria smiled seductively. “One day you will be proud of me,” she said as she left the room. She wore a pink tank top and a pink jean miniskirt, looking like every man’s wet dream. Today she was my nightmare. On the surface, she seemed to have an obsession with me, but for some reason, I didn’t think it was romantic. Maybe I should have been flattered, but I felt like a victim in some crazy game without rules.
My first thought was to file a complaint before things got out of hand. But how much did she know about my Patriots? Later on, I planned on discussing this with Chad. My next class was cut short. I was too jittery and distracted to teach. Justine got what she wanted. Lunch time had finally arrived and I resumed to a much calmer frame of mind.
Harper and I ordered a bucket of chicken. She carried the food and I carried her heavy backpack to a busy picnic area down the street from the college. There were a few drones in the air. We ate as they passed over. Harper took a few books from her backpack. The covers were wrapped in paper. Already, she shown vigilante qualities in the imperative skill of keeping everything private. I like her more and more. She spoke with her hand or napkin in front of her mouth, always aware we could be watched.
“Okay, Raphael, I can’t give you an actual date. Your crown or diadem has many facets to it.”
“You could even call it a tiara, right? Because it’s open in the back? You mentioned that before.”
“Yes, right above the thick, gold band. It doesn’t close into a complete circle, like the band. This piece is really two parts melded into one piece, both original parts were never photographed in any museum with ancient artifact displays. Because of the smaller circumference, the piece was probably worn by a woman, maybe a queen or a princess. This band and the golden leaves were added much later. The older part of the piece with gemstones dates back to ancient Sumer.”
“Sumer, where civilization began.” Harper nodded. “Can you identify the stones?”
“Yes. There was one emerald, several topaz, beryl, turquoise, Lapis, carnelian and jasper. They were used quite often during that era.”
“Could this have been part of the treasure from Nimrod?”
“Yes. You are a quick learner, Raphael. I was thinking the same thing. Five wooden, water-logged boxes of the treasure were recovered in the basement of Iraq’s Central Bank. But there were always rumors.”
“What do you mean? Some unaccounted boxes of more treasure?”
“Exactly. Plus, the bank was robbed and looted. Qusay Hussein, Saddam Hussein’s son, might have helped himself to some of the treasure as well. Supposedly, most of it was recovered.”
“Why are there Roman leaves on it?”
“I believe the ancient piece traveled to Europe where royals had their artisans add on in an attempt to personalize it, you know, make it their own. The animal is most likely a bull. There was a great deal of bull worship back then. They liked to worship a god called Moloch, part bull, part man. Later on, Greeks called the god the Minotaur. But I am stumped on these winged beings. They are not birds and they aren’t angels.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. I can’t believe you got this far in such a short amount of time.”
“Thank you, Raphael. You have made me feel like the archeologist I used to be. I like feeling useful. Now it’s my turn. What the hell are you up to? And whatever it is, I want in.”
“I really like you, but there are others who…” I said as my voice started to drift.
“Oh, give it up, already! You think this is the first time I’ve seen a stolen artifact? I was an archeologist, not a nun. You can trust me. I have nothing, no one. My mother and brother died in the war. My father died in the Persian Gulf War when I was a baby. I got a few friends, not good ones, and a shitty job like you. As you know, pretty soon neither of us will even have the shitty job. And then we won’t have a productivity factor. Shit, I’ll just say it. The war was a tool used for New World Order. Very soon we will be killed or turned into slaves. I don’t care if I die nor do I care if I break the law. Seeing this crown is the first time I’ve felt alive in a long time.”
“Quite a speech.”
“Thank you, Raphael. I’ve been mentally rehearsing it since ten o’clock this morning.”
“Harper, it’s not just up to me. You need to win over some of my friends. Tomorrow night don’t make any plans.”
The rest of the day I forgot about Gloria and fixated on the crown. How and why did Alberta Ross have an ancient crown locked up in her safe room? My mind raced off in too many directions. I couldn’t sleep. A double whiskey with a splash of 7-Up settled my nerves.
I turned on the local news. Nothing more was said about Ross’s maid or the fictitious gas leak. It appeared as if we were off the hook. But I knew better. Alberta Ross was not a fool. If she cared enough about the diadem to lock it up in a fireproof safe, then she would care enough to use her money and power to get it back.
Doctor Laurie popped into my mind. What kinds of goodies would we find in his house and clinic? Did he have a crown? I thought of Jaxie. My Patriots and I accumulated over two million units so far. How much did Jaxie have? I smiled. Competition was getting the best of me. I might have a lot of units, but she had an arsenal. Did she even know what an arsenal was? Or did she just have a few guns? I had a very small arsenal at my grandfather’s farm.
Together, we probably had enough to buy something big, maybe even a nuke. Generals, admirals, and other brass might be desperate. Maybe they would sell off a warhead or two. There had to be mo
re disgruntled Peacekeepers out there, willing to sell off stolen weaponry to the highest bidder. I drifted off with a fresh drink by my side, dreaming of blowing up the very leaders who misled the world. I wasn’t even sure who those leaders were, but dreamt of their death just the same. I then dreamt of restoring America.
I knew Doctor Laurie was an A-lister, a hero to the world, and part of the inner circle but never thought he was evil until Chad enlightened me. There were other leaders from all over the world who rose to power as their predecessors mysteriously died off like flies in the winter. That was the hold up, the reason New World Order was still in limbo. I guessed a civil war within the inner circle raged on. Once we knew who was in charge, our window of opportunity would shut.
On Thursdays my schedule was light. No Gloria-Justine, only hazed out young adults who barely seemed interested in the class. Around dinner time, I picked Harper up in a self-driving cab and headed for Wong’s Taste of China. I bought myself a platter of General Tsao’s chicken and bought Harper some sweet and sour pork. I guided her up the stairs and into the attic. We were the last ones there, as planned, but Harper didn’t know that.
Prearranged signals were in place for votes over Harper’s acceptance. If they didn’t trust her, then I would let her down easy. I did work with her and had to use tact. But I hoped they found her as valuable as I did.
As predicted, they grilled her about her past. Nothing too personal, mostly her youth spent on archeological digs in the Middle East. I learned even more about her. Her team found a whole lot more than shards of pottery. They found fossils, stone tools, animal figurines, and even a statue of a pharaoh.
“Regretfully, the pieces were stolen along with most of the contents in the museum in Cairo,” Harper said.
Jun asked, “But I thought that Cairo was nuked?”
Harper nodded, but then said, “Before the bombing, the place was cleaned out. Our pieces as well as the entire museum’s inventory survived. A friend of mine saw some of our pieces for sale at an underground auction. Raphael told me you are all part of a gang.” Everyone laughed in denial. “What I am trying to say is this-I am very unhappy about the way things turned out. I mean, the leaders who are directly responsible, are probably the ones who cleaned out the museums before they were bombed.”
“So some of the world’s history is still preserved? Still out there? Is that what you think about Raphael’s crown?” Marta asked.
“I think much of world’s history is still out there, just not where it is supposed to be. Raphael’s crown is proof! These artifacts belong in a museum for all to see and study. They are not personal decorations for the very rich. If things ever turn around, then museums will need to be restored. Museums house history, our history. They have no right to take that away and rewrite the past,” Harper said.
My Patriots spurt out dozens of conspiracy theories. Harper was familiar with almost all of them, adding several of her own.
Dylan asked, “Do you speak ancient languages like Hebrew or Egyptian?”
Harper smiled and then said, “I speak Hebrew. My mother insisted on it. She was a Jew. I also learned how to translate Sumerian, Persian or Farsi, Coptic Egyptian, and Greek. I can read cuneiform and just started learning Tamil on my own with a DVD program that I purchased many years ago. The languages once made me appreciated by my colleagues.”
Jun added, “I speak Mandarin.” He ran his hand through his cropped black hair as if proud of himself and everyone did the same.
“Was that some kind of sign? Am I in or am I out?” Harper asked.
Not even bothering to cover up the botched signal, Jun just bellowed, “All in favor, say ‘Aye’!”
Around the room, one by one, Marta, Dylan, Chad, Jun, and then me said ‘Aye’. Harper was an official Patriot. I didn’t tell her about Doctor Stephen Laurie. In time, and with Patriot’s approval, we’d all tell her every detail once a plan was in place.
Marta walked over to her and gave her a hug. “I guess we aren’t as smooth as we thought we were. Harper, welcome to the Patriots. We rob from the rich and give to the poor. Did I mention that we are the poor? At least for now. Someday we will do more.”
Hugs and introductions continued. We drained a few more bottles of Alberta Ross’s fancy wine which June had stashed in the attic’s rafters. A few more hours passed, and then I offered her a cab ride home.
“Hopefully six Patriots will be luckier than five. I knew they would like you,” I slurred as we shared the cab ride. We both had too much to drink.
Harper put her hand on my knee, leaned in and kissed me just before she got out of the car. “What about you? Do you like me? You can come in.”
The kiss stirred up feelings I thought were gone. She looked like an angel in the hazy, gray sky before the nightfall. My loin ached to be with her, but something held me back. Infidelity? My wife was dead and I was still alive. Maybe I wasn’t ready or maybe I was afraid. I could fall in love with her. She could fall in love with me. And then one of us would die.
“Well?”
“Not tonight.” I shut the car door. She shrugged her shoulders and walked away.
My four-day weekend couldn’t come at a better time. Harper would probably think I took off work because of the kiss. Sex, dating, all of it always screwed everything up.
My first day off of work I headed up to my grandpa’s farm in my car. The ride took less than four hours. I exited the highway about three hours into the trip and then traveled among gravel and dirt roads for another hour. I hadn’t done much to the property since making the move to Dallas. The place looked overgrown and wild once more. All of my work was in vain.
I parked my car under the dilapidated carport one hundred yards away from the house. The shed was only a few feet away. The mold and dust made me cough. I pulled down the cobwebs and looked for the entry.
Carefully, I moved a couple of large ceramic pots and felt around for the latch. Minutes later, I was underneath the property in a mud hall framed out with wood and rebar with my Patriot’s loot and my crown in tow. At the end of the hall was one of the secret chambers George built. The small room still housed my supplies and gold. It was locked away in fireproof boxes. I stashed a couple of my unit cards and gold bars in one of the fireproof boxes. Would this be a good place for my crown? I decided to look for a better spot.
I walked down the manmade tunnel toward the chamber filled with weapons and canned food. There was a spider hole that led up to the barn. I dug a hole in the wall next to the ladder. My crown, wrapped in three large Ziploc bags, was tucked safely inside of the hole. I patched up the hole, admired my secret hiding place, and ascended back up to the ground level of the barn. Once outside, I had a decent view of the outbuildings. Everything looked as empty, vacant, and abandoned as it did the last time I visited.
I hiked around the property, checking for unwanted guests, and was relieved to find everything intact. Four and half hours later, I was on my way to Boston to see Jaxie and our newest target, Doctor Laurie. If traffic was light and streets were drivable, I’d be in Boston by late Friday or early Saturday morning.
As I drove, I must have checked my pockets a dozen times for my microchip. I panicked. Was it in my kitchen drawer or did I leave it on the farm?
With one of my disposables, I called Chad. “Hey, could you do me a favor? Check my kitchen drawer. I am praying that I left something there. Give me a list of contents when you can.”
Although my mind was filled with worry, the scenery throughout the Midwest and then Northeast got my mind off a potential huge mistake. Peacekeeper vehicles were everywhere. The cars had new emblems of golden globes and wreaths on the sides, but the U.N. lettering was gone. Soon a new emblem would take its place.
My phone rang a few hours after I called Chad. “Yeah?”
“I believe you left behind what you needed,” Chad said.
My nerves soothed for the first time in hours. “Thanks. One more thing. Could you tell Harper why I left t
own?”
“I knew it! I’ll try, but I ain’t got the time to smooth out your love life. We have some real problems. A royal pain in the ass that we both know must have figured out her home was hacked. Apparently, your other friend’s company figured it out. They found the computer’s trail of bread crumbs all the way back to our favorite restaurant.”
Royal pain? Had to be Alberta. My friend’s company? Has to be Fogle who now works for the U.N. Jun’s restaurant? Jun’s family? “Go on. The shit hit the fan? Or SHTF as my grandpa used to say. You know where to go, right?” I asked.
“The S.P. found some wine bottles in the dumpster of our favorite restaurant.”
The special police found Alberta’s wine at Wong’s Taste of China? Oh no! “And our friend and his family?”
“Gone. Not sure what else. I’m spooked. Drove by and it’s crawling if you know what I mean. My work is also compromised. On the way to your work, my brother.”
“What about our other friends?”
“My girl is with me, but who knows about her brother. He split.”
“Can you warn Harper for me?”
“Sure.” I heard the reservation in his voice. He was scared out of his mind.
“Keep a low profile, Chad. You get my email?”
“Oh yeah. Now that’s an email! That soldier...”
“I know, Chad,” I interrupted. He needed to be more careful. Our phones weren’t full proof, but I understood his excitement about the soldier Jaxie’s Patriots tortured.
“Well it was brilliant, truly brilliant. I almost forgot to tell you that your friend is the biggest badass of the century. Lots of interest. Lots of hits and shares by my audience. Can I join you?”
“Chad, you are in a good place right now. Soon, my friend, soon. Remember this is a preliminary visit. Text me when you’re safe.”
By midnight, I arrived in Boston. I ditched my car in an abandoned parking lot, found a flop-house/motel, and bought myself a week of room and board. Another hour passed and I tried asleep. Dreams of blood and death and my grandfather played out like a scary movie every time I drifted off.
