The Ark tl-1

by Boyd Morrison

  Locke was delusional.

  Garrett’s finger tightened on the trigger.

  * * *

  Locke knew he might die right here, but at least he got to see that Sebastian Garrett’s golden-boy face was now a mess of blood and broken bones.

  Garrett was halfway down the cave, his machine gun aiming right at Locke, his smug grin telling Locke everything he needed to know. Garrett hadn’t seen what Locke left inside the cave.

  “I tried to get you to think about all the angles,” Locke said.

  “I did,” Garrett said. “You lose. Again.”

  Locke shook his head. “I win,” Locke said and pulled the trigger on the RCV controller.

  The remote-controlled vehicle he had placed when he pretended to fall was pointed straight at the crusty box of sweating dynamite. It whirred to life, and Garrett glanced down as the vehicle accelerated past his feet. Then his head turned, and he saw the corroded boxes. Locke was sure Cutter told Garrett how delicate the explosives inside them were. So sensitive that getting hit by a five-pound toy traveling 40 miles an hour would detonate them.

  Locke saw the revelation dawning on Garrett’s face a fraction too late to stop the RCV. Locke propelled himself to the side with his good leg just as Garrett squeezed the trigger on the submachine gun. Bullets coursed through the air where Locke’s head had just been.

  As he hit the ground, the RC vehicle hit the box of dynamite and the cave exploded. Locke used his momentum to roll against the cliff face. He covered his head and felt the fireball fly by him, singeing his clothes.

  The roof of the cave collapsed, snuffing the explosion and sending out huge volumes of dust. He looked up Mt. Ararat, expecting an avalanche. A few rocks bounced down, but that was it.

  Locke sat up and put his back against the cliff.

  Grant and Dilara emerged from their refuge behind a rock. Both of them hobbled over and sank to the ground next to him. Their clothes were battered and ripped, they were covered in dust and grime, and spots of blood were everywhere. Locke was sure he was even worse. He felt as bad as each of them looked. They were going to get that nice clean helicopter very dirty, and Locke couldn’t care less.

  “If this is your idea of archaeology,” Dilara said, “you are never going on a dig with me again.”

  “I promise,” Locke said. “Right now, I’m thinking more about finding a hotel with room service.

  “All I want,” Grant said, “is a warm, comfy bed and about 20 milligrams of morphine.”

  “Garrett’s dead?” Dilara asked.

  Locke nodded. “He’s in that cave. Blown to bits and buried with the Ark.”

  “And the amulet?”

  “Incinerated in the blast. It’s gone.”

  “Good, because the Ark will be excavated some day. I guarantee that.” She took her camera out. “The archaeological community can’t ignore this.”

  “You, my friend, got away with something in there,” Grant said. “I saw the night vision goggles Cutter had. I’m sure Garrett had the same thing. He could have used them at any time.”

  “What do you mean?” Dilara said.

  “Those were Gen-Three goggles,” Locke said. “Very powerful. They amplify light 50,000 times. Garrett could have simply turned on his flashlight and tossed it away. The light from it would have been enough for him to use the goggles and hunt me down. But I took the chance that he’d panic and wouldn’t want to part with his only flashlight. That’s why I blew up the crevice entrance and blocked the light coming through.”

  “What if he had gone to the cave’s exit door and opened it?” Dilara asked.

  “He didn’t know about it.”

  “How could you be sure?”

  “Just a guess. Even though Sebastian Garrett was extremely intelligent, he had one big flaw.”

  “What’s that?”

  Locke smiled. “He wasn’t an engineer.”

  SEVENTY-TWO

  Locke stood on the balcony of his room in the Istanbul Four Seasons and drained the last of his morning coffee. Rain clouds loomed over the minarets of the Hagia Sophia, but he could see blue sky in the distance. The sun should come out just in time for his walk with Dilara.

  He set the cup down and walked back inside, his leg protesting each step. The doctor said it would ache for another few weeks, but he didn’t need a cane. The bullet wound had been painful, but not serious.

  Locke didn’t bother to turn on the television. He knew what would be on the news. It had been three days since they escaped from Noah’s Ark, and the world was just starting to become aware of the discovery of the map in Khor Virap. The implication that it could lead to unearthing Noah’s Ark had the media in a frenzy. Locke had been able to keep out of the limelight and let Dilara and her father take all of the credit.

  Still, his role gave them some perks. After they’d found the mercenaries’ radios, they had the helicopter take them back to Van, where they were all treated for their injuries. Of course, the three dead bodies had raised lots of questions with the Turkish authorities, but Sherman Locke’s pull with his political allies in Washington combined with the evidence on Dilara’s camera convinced the Turks that the questions could be answered later, as long as they all stayed in the country for a few days.

  The blood loss from Grant’s knife injury required a few nights’ stay in Istanbul’s finest hospital, where he underwent surgery on his torn shoulder muscle. His recuperation would take longer than Locke’s, but he was expected to make a full recovery. Locke and Dilara would check him out of the hospital later that morning, but they had one thing to do first.

  “Ready?” Locke said.

  Dilara sat at a table gazing at a small urn. It held Hasad Arvadi’s cremated remains. After the autopsy in Yerevan, the police in Armenia had expedited the paperwork and shipped his body back to Turkey. Dilara elected not to have a memorial service. Most of Arvadi’s friends and colleagues were in America, and it had been Arvadi’s wish for his native Turkey to be his final resting place.

  “Dilara?”

  She nodded and wiped her face. She lovingly cradled the urn in her arm. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  They exited the hotel and began the short walk to the Kennedy Caddesi. They strolled slowly. Locke sensed that Dilara wanted to take her time. She finally broke the silence.

  “I wish he could have seen it. He was so close.”

  “I think he’d be glad you found it,” Locke said. “And he’d like that you’re dropping Kenner and going back to Arvadi.”

  “It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “Dilara and Hasad Arvadi are going to be famous names.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to share the credit?”

  “Not my style,” Locke said. “Besides, Miles Benson is already milking our exploits for future contracts. No, you and your father deserve it.”

  “You saved the world, you know.”

  “Makes me think the Bible needs to be reinterpreted again. God’s covenant with Noah said He’d never wipe out humanity again.”

  “But He didn’t.”

  “Only because we stopped Garrett from using the Arkon weapon.”

  “How do you know you’re not God’s envoy? God works in mysterious ways. You yourself said that the Ark was a miracle.”

  “I’ll give you that. It was pretty amazing to find it intact after all these centuries. But that was a factor of its location and isolation. All of it could be explained scientifically. Nothing supernatural about it.”

  “That’s the beauty and complexity of God’s work. There are lots of ways to interpret it.”

  “I have to admit,” Locke said, “I was too quick to shoot down your theories about the Ark.”

  “What about your reputation as an inveterate skeptic?”

  “There’s no harm keeping an open mind.” He took Dilara’s hand. “So a few more days here and then back to Mt. Ararat for you?”

  “I’ve already contacted the Turkish governmen
t about excavating the site. Since it’s my discovery, and I have the only photos of the interior, they’ve been willing to involve me. But the process could take months, then digging through those tunnels will take a while, not to mention surveying the interior. Properly, this time.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be there a long time. I have to go back to Seattle soon.”

  She nodded. “Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll both be ready to settle down.”

  “Maybe someday,” he said and squeezed her hand.

  They reached the avenue of Kennedy Caddesi and crossed it to the sea wall along the Sea of Marmara. The Asian side of Istanbul was on the opposite shore, and ships crowded the link between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean.

  Locke let Dilara go, and she walked to the water. He saw her lips moving, then she knelt and poured the ashes of her father into the water.

  She stood, fingering the locket at her neck. Locke went over and wrapped his arms around her.

  They stayed that way for a while. Finally, Dilara turned.

  “Shall we go get Grant?”

  “You go on ahead. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll take him out for a big lunch. I’m sure he’s starving after eating hospital food for three days.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got an errand to run. Gordian business.”

  He kissed her, then enjoyed the view as she strode off toward the hospital. Now there went a woman who had purpose. Locke found it incredibly sexy.

  She looked back once and waved. He waved back and lost sight of her as she rounded the corner.

  Locke hailed a cab.

  “Araco Steel works,” he said to the driver.

  Fifteen minutes later, the taxi drove through an industrial sector of the city. Smokestacks cleaved the sky. The cab pulled to a stop in front of the gate of a massive iron foundry. Through the building’s large open door, Locke could see sparks flying where molten steel was being poured.

  “Wait here,” Locke said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” The driver nodded and slipped the cab into idle.

  At the gate, he showed his passport. “Miles Benson arranged for me to go in.”

  The bored guard looked at his log sheet, gave him a hard hat, and waved him through.

  Gordian had consulted on one of Araco’s mills in Bulgaria, so Miles knew the owner. It seemed like Miles’ reserve of contacts was bottomless, but Locke didn’t question or complain. It was Miles’ schmoozing skills that had built Gordian into an engineering powerhouse.

  It also made Locke’s current plan much easier.

  He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Dilara what he was doing. He told himself it was because she didn’t need to know, but deep down he supposed it could be because he didn’t want to put her in any more danger. He’d already lost one person he loved. He didn’t know if he loved Dilara, but he cared about her, and the events of the past two weeks made him realize he wasn’t ready to risk losing someone else he cared about.

  The foundry building was stifling. The heat from the blast furnace washed over him like a summer afternoon in Phoenix. He scaled a ladder to the second level catwalk. When he was over one of the hoppers containing molten iron, he reached into his pocket and extracted the Amulet of Shem.

  The amber gleamed in the fire light, revealing the outline of the amphibian that could have caused countless deaths. When Locke tossed the solid amber orb to Garrett, he didn’t think Garrett would take the time to inspect it closely, not with so much going on. And Locke didn’t want to take the chance of the amulet being recovered when Noah’s Ark was eventually excavated. Somebody would have used it to redevelop the prion weapon. Locke was sure of it. Then all of his efforts would have been for nothing.

  No one knew Locke had the real amulet. Not Dilara. Not Grant. If the US military found out he had it, soldiers would have swooped in before Locke got off the plane in Istanbul.

  Locke looked at it one last time, marveling at how something so simple and beautiful could be so deadly. Then with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the molten iron. The orb caught fire and settled into the 3000-degree liquid. The prions were destroyed at last.

  He climbed back down and gave back the hard hat at the front gate. His cell phone rang. It was Miles Benson.

  “Thanks for setting us up in the Four Seasons, Miles.”

  “Not at all, Tyler. You rate it. We’re settling all of the lawsuits on the truck case, thanks to you. Won’t use a cent of Gordian’s money. All of it comes courtesy of Garrett’s estate. Did you get into the foundry?”

  “I’m just leaving.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to tell me why you needed to get in there.”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you in a week.”

  “I may have to cut short your vacation. Your recent escapades have gotten us a lot of attention in military and law enforcement circles. I have a few new projects brewing, and you’re just the man for the job. Is Grant out of the hospital yet?”

  “I’m about to pick him up.”

  “Well, tell him to get his butt out of bed. I need you both.”

  Locke suppressed a laugh. Miles knew how to milk a business opportunity. “Sorry, Miles you’re breaking up. Bad reception. I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

  “Tyler, do you know how much money…” Locke ended the connection and turned off the phone’s ringer. Gordian and the rest of the world would survive without him for a week. He needed a little time to relax.

  As he opened the back door of the cab, he felt a mist on his face, the last of the rain before the clouds disappeared. He looked up and wondered what Dilara would make of the phenomenon arcing across the sky. It had a perfectly rational scientific reason for existing, but she might think it had greater significance given their latest experience.

  I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.

  Whatever the explanation, he stayed there for a moment and appreciated the sight, a reminder that life was short and that you might as well stop to revel in nature’s beauty once in a while. And Locke had to admit, no matter who or what was responsible for creating it, he’d never seen a more beautiful rainbow.

 

  AFTERWORD

  In a contemporary thriller, sometimes it’s difficult to tell which of the technologies and locations are real and which are made up. If that’s the case in The Ark, I take that as a compliment because it means I’ve done my job and made them believable, at least in the context of the story. For those who are curious, I spend a little time below talking about what’s real and what’s not. Yet.

  Prions do, in fact, cause mad cow disease, among others. What makes them so fascinating is that they are not alive. They are infectious agents formed by complex proteins that have mis-folded. The diseases caused by them are especially scary because they are untreatable and always fatal. So far, no prions have been discovered that affect the body’s cell integrity. The Arkon disease is obviously made up, but prions are still not well-understood. Let’s hope Arkon stays a fantasy.

  Some of the technologies used by Locke and Gordian do not exist. The G-Tag system for tagging airplane crash debris, the speech-to-text translator that projects onto Aiden MacKenna’s glasses, and the 3-D mapping tool used in the Ark are fictitious, but there is nothing scientifically impossible about them. Something similar to these tools may even exist, but I haven’t found them. The IBOT wheelchair used by Miles Benson, however, is an impressive real product developed by Dean Kamen, the inventor of the Segway.

  Most of the vehicles in The Ark are real. The Liebherr dump truck is the largest in the world, and the Tesla electric roadster is an actual car, though none of them has been crushed by a Liebherr to my knowledge. Although the Genesis Dawn cruise ship is fictitious, new megaships such as Royal Caribbean’s 220,000-ton Oasis of the Seas are rolling off the slips every year.

  Polycarbonate panels do become brittle when treated with acetone, a discovery I made whe
n reading Mark Eberhart’s excellent book, Why Things Break. I leave it to Mythbusters to verify that.

  The Massive Ordinance Penetrator, or MOP, has already been tested, and the bomb is scheduled to join the Air Force’s arsenal soon.

  Khor Virap is as described in the book, a beautiful monastery and revered Armenian shrine situated in the shadow of Mt. Ararat.

  Noah’s Ark may indeed be a cavern filled with a vast treasure, but until it is found, it remains only a theory.

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