Into The Jaws Of The Lion (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 5)

by N. S. Wikarski

  The flap opened and a face peered in at them—a man with coarse, weather-beaten features and a scraggly gray beard. His flashlight beam swept the interior of the tent as his sharp, beady eyes darted into every corner. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to their guard as if anything was amiss. He gave a satisfied grunt and withdrew, lowering the flap behind him.

  Scuffling noises beyond the tent meant he had taken a seat on the ground just outside the door.

  “Perfect!” Cassie hissed in frustration. “As if it wasn’t already hard enough to pull a Houdini, this particular escape trick didn’t need an audience!”

  “Shhh,” Griffin warned. He recommenced slicing away at their bonds. Fortunately, the sound of his efforts was almost imperceptible.

  Cassie could feel blisters and rope burns forming on her wrists from her repeated attempts to free herself. Each effort reopened the cut on her hand. It continued to trickle blood.

  Several tense minutes later, the Scrivener paused in his work. “Try now,” he instructed.

  The Pythia winced and twisted her wrists. This time, the rope yielded just enough to allow her to drag one hand out. As noiselessly as she could, she snaked around and worked the remaining knot free, exhaling with relief when it gave way. Quietly rotating to face Griffin’s back, she untied his hands.

  Then she leaned over and spoke in his ear. “We need to get rid of that rough character outside, grab our stuff and go.”

  “How do you propose we dispatch him?”

  She chuckled softly. “Check your coat pocket.”

  “Yes, of course. I’d forgotten.” He reached in and grasped the stun gun she’d given him earlier. “Would you like to do the honors or shall I?”

  “Thanks for the offer but this seems like a two-person operation. You grab him and I’ll zap him.”

  “Righty-ho then.”

  The pair crept stealthily toward the tent flap. They took up kneeling positions on either side of the opening.

  “Hey, you!” Cassie called loudly. “Get in here!”

  Their guard stirred. He poked his head through the flap to see what the noise was about. When he did so, Griffin grabbed him in a headlock and covered his mouth while Cassie zapped him in the neck with her stun gun. He went down without a struggle.

  The two of them paused, waiting to see if anyone else was nearby. All remained quiet except for the ever-restless wind. They dragged the guard’s inert body inside the tent. Then they used their discarded bindings to tie him hand and foot. Cassie fashioned a makeshift gag out of his scarf. As a finishing touch, she gave him another jolt with her stun gun.

  “That ought to keep you quiet for a while,” she muttered.

  Not wanting to use their flashlights to attract attention, they groped around in the shadowy tent to retrieve their scattered belongings and stash them into their backpacks.

  Cassie put a restraining hand on Griffin’s arm. “Did you hear that?” she asked tensely.

  “No, what is it?”

  “It sounded like voices out on the trail. Maybe the rest of the gang is coming back.”

  “I don’t know if we can outrun them,” Griffin observed uneasily. “Especially once the sun comes up.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about sunrise if I were you,” Cassie countered sardonically. “The jury’s still out on whether or not we can survive the night.”

  Chapter 50—Relatively True

  “Welcome, my son! Welcome home.” Abraham spread his arms wide to enfold Daniel in a fatherly embrace.

  The Scion looked mildly surprised but came forward to accept the gesture of affection.

  “Your trip was successful?” the Diviner asked, still smiling.

  “Yes. Yes, it was.” Daniel placed an object wrapped in cloth on his father’s desk.

  The old man carefully undid the packaging, gasping in surprise at what he saw. “This artifact, heathen though it may be, is quite impressive.”

  “It is,” Daniel agreed diffidently. He took a seat in one of the low visitor chairs in front of his father’s desk.

  Abraham noted his son’s lackluster reaction but decided not to dwell on it. He sat down in his own chair so that he could gaze benevolently on both Daniel and the relic. “Each new victory proves you are fulfilling God’s grand design for the Nephilim. I’m sure He is pleased with you.”

  The Scion nodded in acknowledgment but offered no remark.

  The Diviner chalked up his demeanor to fatigue. “Now you must rest. Spend some time with your wives and children.”

  “Speaking of my family,” Daniel sat forward. “I went to see Annabeth when I first arrived home but I couldn’t find her. Her sister-wives said she’d been taken away. Is she well?”

  Abraham’s face clouded over briefly at the thought of Annabeth’s rampage and the steps he’d been forced to take to vanquish her. Is she well? The Diviner had thought long and hard about how to answer that inevitable question. In an absolute sense, she was well. After she had paid for her rebellion with her life, Annabeth had taken her place among the blessed in the celestial kingdoms, there to await the return of her husband. She was at peace just as the Diviner had promised Daniel she would be.

  However, Abraham was pragmatic enough to realize that telling his son of his wife’s demise might seriously jeopardize the future of the relic quest. There was one more artifact yet to be collected before the Diviner would possess the Sage Stone. He could ill afford to have his son’s mind distracted by grief. Is she well? In the present moment, confronted by his son’s earnest face, he gave the only reply possible.

  “Never fear, my son. She is receiving the best care possible.”

  “What do you mean?” Daniel leaped from his chair.

  The old man smiled benignly. “Calm yourself, Daniel. Sit down and let me explain.”

  Looking unconvinced, the Scion resumed his seat and waited.

  Abraham sighed heavily. “Just before your return, Annabeth took a turn for the worse. Her behavior became erratic and I was forced to call in medical assistance.”

  The Diviner was not lying to his son. Annabeth had indeed become erratic and medical assistance in the person of Doctor Aboud had been summoned.

  Daniel’s eyes flew open wide. “You sent her to one of those places? To a mental institution?”

  “I sent her to an institution but only for a time, my son. Only for a time. Her fits of violence made her a danger to the community. I had no choice but to relocate her where she could receive the care she needed.”

  This was not a lie either. Annabeth, in her volatile state, posed a spiritual threat to his flock and Abraham had placed her temporarily in an institution—Doctor Aboud’s underground laboratory.

  “When can I see her?” the Scion asked urgently.

  The Diviner shook his head sadly. “Not for a while, I’m afraid. Her condition seems to worsen whenever she comes into contact with family members—myself, your other wives, her daughter. The doctors have forbidden any of us to see her, at least for the next month or so. Be patient. She will be restored to you in time.”

  Nor was this last statement a lie. Annabeth would be restored to him in time—at the end of all time. Husband and wife would be reunited in heaven and then his son would realize that Abraham had acted for the greater good. In the near term, Daniel would be given periodic reports of Annabeth’s decline. Within a month, the Scion would be told that Annabeth had contracted a fatal disease at the institution. This was equally true. She had contracted pneumonic plague. A week later, it would be reported that Annabeth had succumbed to an infection which was so highly contagious that her body had to be cremated to avoid contaminating anyone else. Another true statement. Her corpse had been burned in Aboud’s incinerator. Daniel would be told there could be no burial because there was no body to bury. True yet again—only a pile of ashes remained. If Daniel questioned any of these facts, Doctor Aboud would be summoned to testify to their verity and the doctor could bear witness with a clear conscience. None of t
hese statements were falsehoods.

  No doubt, once the Diviner’s son had put these shocking events behind him, he would devote his full attention to the relic quest. Abraham felt confident that matters would proceed more smoothly with no family distractions to get in the way. Annabeth’s entire life had been the very definition of pointless distraction.

  “I understand, father.” Daniel’s words broke into the old man’s reverie. The Scion seemed resigned to the news of Annabeth’s condition. “It’s time I paid a visit to my other wives and children.”

  “Yes, of course.” Abraham rose and walked his son to the door, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I will not forget the great service you have rendered to the Blessed Nephilim this day. You have earned the gratitude of the entire brotherhood and my own personal thanks as well.”

  Daniel ducked his head uncomfortably and left.

  ***

  After his son’s departure, Abraham turned to admire his newest acquisition. He picked it up reverently. This was a momentous day. The artifact, separated from its counterparts for thousands of years, was about to be reunited with them in his treasury room.

  He had already taken the precaution of switching off the surveillance cameras in his office so none of the security staff would see the object his son had just deposited on his desk. Nor would they see him slide open the wooden panel on the opposite wall to reveal an alcove and the solid steel door beyond.

  He punched a code into the keypad next to the inner door which protected his treasury. Then he entered. The metal door and the wooden panel both slid shut noiselessly behind him.

  He glanced around at the locked drawers lining the walls, each one guarding a treasure of its own. In aggregate, they held the world’s most concentrated collection of objects of mystical power. It had taken Abraham decades to amass them. In anticipation of his son’s return, he had already retrieved the other three Minoan artifacts from their storage lockers and set them out on the table in the middle of the room.

  On the left side was the golden bee, then the lapis dove, after that the diamond-studded bull. To the right of the bull, he set down this latest find and stepped back a few paces to admire the priceless menagerie which had taken so much struggle and sacrifice to retrieve.

  Abraham gave a satisfied smile as he gazed down at the artifacts resting on the table before him. Their very presence in his treasury was a sure sign that God’s favor had been restored to the Diviner in spite of recent unfortunate events. Annabeth’s Satanic master would have to find another even more weak-minded vessel to do his bidding. Daniel’s late wife could no longer compromise Abraham’s position in the heavenly hierarchy.

  Only one more relic to go. Together the Bones Of The Mother would unfailingly lead the Diviner to the greatest treasure of all—the Sage Stone. He would wield its formidable power to forge the world anew in God’s image. “In hoc signo vinces,” he whispered. “The hour is almost upon us!”

  Chapter 51—Hitting Home

  Leroy Hunt cracked open the door to Abraham Metcalf’s office and peered inside. One of Metcalf’s flunkeys had told the cowboy to wait in the entrance hall but he figured if he showed up unannounced he might catch the old coot with his pants down and maybe learn something about where all the doodads were stashed. Leroy slipped inside the office but the preacher wasn’t around. He found that strange. They hadn’t passed each other in the hallway but Leroy wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Metcalf’s absence supplied a golden opportunity to scope out the room without being watched. The cowboy studied the surveillance cameras above the desk. Just like Chopper had told him, they were all trained on the opposite wall—nothing to see there but carved paneling. Why would a body waste all that tech on a blank wall? Leroy had a hunch that those cams were guarding a lot more than pricey oak veneer.

  He blinked once in surprise when he saw the wall move. It slid noiselessly to the side and Abe walked out. The two men stared at each other in shock. The panel closed silently behind the preacher.

  “What are you doing here?” Metcalf demanded.

  Leroy decided to cover his tracks by playing innocent. He removed his hat and twirled it between his hands. “We had a meetin’. Don’t you remember, boss?”

  “I distinctly remember telling my assistant that you were to wait in the foyer!”

  Hunt made an elaborate show of scratching his head in puzzlement. “Is that what he said? I sure am sorry, Mr. Metcalf. I musta got confused.”

  Abe straightened the front of his coat. “Indeed you did.” He scrutinized the cowboy’s face, trying to read how much his visitor had guessed about that secret panel.

  Leroy cultivated a blank expression.

  Eventually, the old man gave up. “Have a seat,” he ordered and then lowered himself into his chair.

  While his boss was getting settled, Leroy took a minute to assess what he’d seen. Sure enough, his hunch had been right. He’d lay odds that all the doodads were behind that paneled wall. Of course, there was bound to be more than a couple of inches of wood between him and his payday. If he had to guess, there’d be some kind of metal vault with loads of passwords and keycodes and such. Well, that was neither here nor there. When the time came, he’d get the old man to blab all the necessary passcodes. He had a way of making people talk, especially when they didn’t want to. For now, it was enough that he’d found the location of the stash.

  Metcalf cut into his thoughts. “What did you want to see me about?”

  “We got some unfinished business to discuss about Little Miss Hannah.”

  At the mention of the gal’s name, Metcalf sat bolt upright. “Yes, of course. This relic quest has driven everything else from my mind. Where do you intend to look for her next?”

  “Well, sir, last we heard, your little missus was learnin’ all about the big bad world at some school in Montana.”

  Leroy had deliberately mentioned the school just to get a rise out of Metcalf. The preacher turned white as a sheet. He couldn’t stand the thought of his child-bride getting any notions in her head that Abe hadn’t put there himself.

  “Far as I know, little Hannah is sittin’ tight in Billings. You want me to hop a plane and see if I can round her up for you?”

  Metcalf nodded so hard he looked like one of those bobbleheads folks put on their dashboards. Leroy suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. He slapped on his poker face and kept his mouth still.

  “Absolutely, Mr. Hunt. That must be your next priority. Bring her back to me as soon as you can.”

  The cowboy gave a jaunty salute. “You got it, boss. That gal will be back in your arms ‘fore you can say ‘Wedded Bliss’.”

  “Excellent.” Metcalf rose and walked to the door, opening it wide to indicate the meeting was over.

  Hunt stuck his hat back on and shuffled out.

  “Oh, and Mr. Hunt...” Metcalf called after him.

  “Boss?” Leroy paused in the corridor.

  “You are to be commended for a job well done in retrieving the most recent artifact. Carry on.”

  “Yessir.” The cowboy turned his back and ambled in the direction of the front door. As he walked down the endless corridors, he turned over another plan in his mind about where Hannah might actually be hiding.

  During the time when Leroy was overseas, he’d had something of a revelation—a notion that hadn’t occurred to him during all his weeks of following up one pointless lead after another. Somebody had sent him on a wild goose chase covering the entire United States of America... almost. There was one location that was missing from list of the places he’d visited. None of his fake leads brought him anywhere near the Midwest. That could only mean one thing about little Hannah’s true whereabouts. If Somebody had gone to such trouble to get Leroy out of Chicago, it was because Hannah had never left town in the first place. She was still here and so was the Somebody who was protecting her. Leroy felt it was high time to dig up some dirt in his own backyard.

  Chapter 52—Tem
pests ‘n’ Teapots

  “Oh, my dears! It’s wonderful to see your smiling faces again!” Faye rose to greet Griffin and Cassie, hugging them each in turn.

  They had just returned from the airport and immediately headed for her parlor at the Vault to give their report. The room looked much like Faye’s living room at the farmhouse. A fire crackled in the grate and the underground windows displayed the light of a late autumn afternoon.

  “It was touch and go there for a while. We weren’t sure anybody was going to see our smiling faces ever again.” Cassie took a seat on the camelback sofa.

  Griffin tucked in beside her.

  A tea service had been set on the table in front of them and Faye bustled forward to pour out cups for each of her guests.

  Cassie turned excitedly to her partner. “Look, Griffin. Tea. Real tea!”

  They drank down the hot contents immediately and held their cups out for more. Faye appeared perplexed by their reaction.

  “Please don’t ask,” the Pythia entreated. “It’s a painful memory.”

  Cassie next scooped up a croissant. “Hello, you flaky delicacy. How I’ve missed you.” She passed the plate of pastries to Griffin. “Traveling to the top of the world sure gave me an appreciation for the comforts of home—a shower, a teabag, upholstered furniture, and any food that isn’t made from barley flour.”

  At that moment, Maddie rounded the corner. “Well, well, the prodigals return.” She immediately settled herself on the opposite end of the couch.

  “Did you receive the artifact?” Griffin asked anxiously.

  “Got it yesterday. It’s safe and sound and waiting for your department to catalog it.”

  “Where are Rabten and Rinchen?” the Pythia asked. “I thought they’d be here for the big debrief.”

  “Already left on another assignment,” Maddie informed them.

  “Those two chaps are first-rate agents,” the Scrivener said. “We couldn’t have completed this mission without them.”