He transferred his attention back to the one who called himself Father Abraham. The old coot sure knew how to give a stemwinder. He’d been at it for over fifteen minutes already. God’s will, blah-blah. Everlasting glory, blah-de-blah-blah. Try as he might, Chopper couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting off-topic. This gig wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he came back to the states. He’d just finished a stint with a security operation in Iraq and decided to pick up a side job when old Abe contacted him. Leroy Hunt was behind the referral.
He and Leroy went way back. Two Bama boys who joined the service during the first Gulf War. Both found they had a natural talent for the military and liked the life. Chopper couldn’t remember exactly when Leroy started dressing up like a matinee cowboy and talking like Slim Pickens, but he didn’t really care either. Hunt always completed a mission with no foul-ups, and that was all that mattered.
Unfortunately, in their last conversation, Hunt had breezed over the details about who these Nephilim characters were. As a rule, Bowdeen tried to steer clear of religious types. He’d already gotten his fill of fanatics in the Middle East. They tended to make war a messy business when it ought to be cut and dried. He was a mercenary. He was willing to take a bullet for the right price, unlike those camel jockeys who were just itching to die for Allah to score points in heaven. He couldn’t beat their price no matter how steeply he cut his own rates. This Nephilim bunch didn’t seem all that different from their towel-headed brethren in the desert. Especially once Chopper forced himself to concentrate on what Abe was telling them.
The old man had worked them up into a fine lather by now. He was on a roll. “My sons, you are God’s chosen, destined to play a vital role in the Lord’s plan for this earth. He has commanded the Nephilim to lead the world out of darkness and you, my sons, will be at the forefront of that march. You are about to be trained in the skills of combat that you may become mighty soldiers of the Lord. You will take your place in glory alongside the great heroes of the past. With Michael who drove Adam and Eve from Eden with a flaming sword. With Joshua who destroyed the walls of Jericho. With King David who crushed Goliath in the Lord’s name. Just as all these valiant ones live on in our memory so shall you, my sons. Your names shall endure forever, and your reward shall be great in the kingdom of heaven.”
It was classic religious cliché. Pump up a bunch of losers with low self-esteem by telling them how important they are to the cause. How much glory they’re going to achieve by becoming cannon fodder. Chopper had heard it a thousand times before, but as he scanned the faces before him, he could see them drinking it all in. Their eyes had the fiery, dazed look of the true believer. He didn’t dismiss it all as holy smoke. Belief was a powerful thing. Sometimes Chopper thought of it as the ultimate weapon. If you could get a man to believe in something deeply enough, he’d be willing to commit any atrocity in its name.
Chopper sensed that the endless preamble was winding to a close. He stood up to take the podium and give these kids a lecture on basic combat skills. After that would come weeks of weapons training. Teaching somebody to fire a gun assumed the existence of a target. He wasn’t sure who these Nephilim boys were supposed to be aiming at. He brushed the notion away. So what? He was a gun for hire. He’d never before questioned who the target was as long as he got paid. And he was being paid handsomely for this gig. What the hell did it matter who they wanted to destroy? As he stepped over to the microphone, an uneasy sensation in his gut told him that someday he might regret not asking that question.
Chapter 34 – Sleight Change of Plan
Cassie stood up and dusted off her hands. “Phew, that’s a relief.” She watched as Erik and Griffin moved the lily stone back into position.
“Any word on where our Nephilim buddies are at?” Fred asked, arranging smaller rocks around the perimeter to make their excavation less obvious.
“Last Maddie could find out, they were searching shrines on the eastern side of the mountain,” Erik replied. He squinted across the plateau toward the mountain range in the distance. “I’d say that means close. They could get here any time now.”
“Then it’s a good thing we got the fake artifact in place first,” Cassie observed.
Griffin consulted his wrist watch. “I know it isn’t even midday, but I’d suggest we clear off. It could be rather awkward if we were to encounter them while making our exit.”
“Got that right.” Erik leaped to his feet. “The bait’s in place. We don’t need to wait for the rats to take it. Maddie is still monitoring Hunt’s phone calls to Metcalf. We’ll know the minute they dig it up.”
The four teammates gathered their equipment and hiked the half mile back to the Jeep. They had just finished stowing their gear when Cassie picked up the jacket she had tossed across the hood. She reached into one of the pockets and gasped. “Oh no!”
The men all turned to stare at her.
“What is it?” Griffin asked.
“My room key! It must have fallen out of my pocket when I took my jacket off earlier.”
“Your room key?” Griffin repeated. “Why on earth didn’t you turn it in at the front desk?”
“I forgot. OK? I was running late this morning, and there was nobody at the desk anyway.” She searched all her pockets again. “I thought I heard a clinking sound when I picked my jacket up off the ground. “Jeez! That means the key is sitting right out there in the open. Practically right next to the lily stone.”
“That key has the hotel name and room number on it.” Erik scowled. “If Hunt finds it and decides to check out who else was nosing around the megaliths, that key would lead him straight to us.”
“Maybe he’d think it was just dropped there by a careless tourist.” Fred laughed nervously.
“You want to take that chance?” Erik asked pointedly.
“I have to go back.” Cassie was already jogging up the trail.
Her companions scrambled to catch up with her.
They trotted briskly up the path through the pines and climbed the rise toward the plateau when something stopped them dead in their tracks. The sight that greeted them was inconceivable. They’d been prepared to dodge the Nephilim, but this was an entirely different matter.
“Holy crap!” Cassie exclaimed.
“What are they doing?” Griffin asked in wonder.
“Guys, get down!” Erik commanded.
The four flattened themselves against the ground and peered over the rim of the hill toward the plateau where the megaliths stood. A trio of men were circling the place where the artifact was hidden. They appeared to be Turkish. One wore traditional attire—wool trousers, cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves, an open vest and a visored cap. The other two were younger, dressed in jeans and camp shirts. All three sported the typical bushy moustache of the region. The man with the cap stooped down to pick up an object that flashed in the sun.
“Dammit! That’s my key!” Cassie whispered.
The trio seemed to be conferring about something. Then all of them bent down and began to dig around the base of the lily rock.
“How did they know something was there?” Fred wondered.
“They must have been watching us,” Griffin replied. “They may have been here the whole time we were burying the false relic. Just waiting for us to leave.”
Cassie inched closer to the top of the ridge to get a better look. “Who do you think those guys are?”
“Hunters maybe,” Erik speculated. “One of them has a rifle. It’s over there on the ground.”
“They might be poachers looking for some illegal game,” Griffin added. “Or worse. They could be trading in black market antiquities.”
Cassie turned to Erik. “Where’s that pistol you carry? It would come in pretty handy right about now.”
“It’s in the Jeep with the rest of the gear. I had it with me until you went running off after your key and we all ran after you.”
“That’s tw
ice this has happened.” The pythia glared at him. “You know what I’m going to buy you for Christmas? A holster! A freaking holster so the next time the bad guys have guns, you’ll actually have one too!”
Erik was about to offer a biting retort when Griffin held up his hand.
“Shhhh! Look!”
Their whispers ceased. The four of them watched in consternation as the men below slid the lily stone aside. It took only a moment for them to locate the alabaster urn and dump out its contents. They laughed and patted one another on the back, passing the golden object from hand to hand.
“Bloody hell!” Griffin exclaimed.
“We have to get it back,” Erik growled.
“But it’s a fake,” Cassie objected.
“They don’t know that,” the security coordinator countered. “Fake or not, it’s solid gold, and that makes it valuable to them. Besides, we don’t have time to get another copy made and bury it before the Nephilim get here. For all we know those guys down below would dig that one up too. No, we need to make sure they stay the hell away from here.”
“Just how do you propose to do that?” the pythia demanded.
“I don’t know yet.” Erik raised himself to a crouching position. “Right now, we need to move back into the woods. They’re getting ready to leave. We have to follow them.”
As soundlessly as possible, the Arkana team backed away from the rise and ran for the cover of the pines. They waited out of sight until they saw the Turks enter the woods by another path.
“Let’s hope they don’t have a car,” Erik muttered.
“I didn’t hear the sound of a motor the whole time we were up there,” Fred observed.
“Then that means they must live nearby,” Cassie speculated.
“I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad one.” Griffin sounded troubled. “If they live nearby in one of the villages, that may mean they have allies.”
“Guess we’ll see,” Erik said curtly. “Now everybody shut up, or they’ll hear us.”
The Arkana team advanced stealthily through the woods. Luckily, the three men were talking loud enough to cover any stray noise. They spoke excitedly in Turkish, joking and laughing with each other. They were clearly elated by their windfall.
Their pursuers quickened their pace to close the gap when the trio went into a ravine that was hidden by undergrowth. Cassie came around the bend first. She almost yelped in surprise when she saw the men had stopped and were standing directly below them. She backed up. Unfortunately, Griffin chose that moment to trip over a tree root and stumble into her. The pythia lost her balance and fell forward. She tumbled down the hillside directly into the path of the relic thieves. The scrivener was about to lunge after her when Erik pulled him back.
“No! Wait!” he hissed. “We need a tactical advantage. You rush in now, and you’ll get her killed for sure.”
Cassie landed on her backside with a thud.
The three astonished men stared at her for a moment. Then the one with the rifle pointed it at her face. He gave commands in Turkish and gestured with the barrel of the gun for her to get up.
She raised her hands warily above her head and stood up. “Ooops!” she said.
Chapter 35 – Lyrical Interlude
Daniel drew out a handkerchief to mop his forehead. He felt exhausted from fighting the heat and the altitude. They’d been searching for days, working their way methodically through the villages that dotted the eastern slope of Mount Ida. Climbing ever higher. Mosques and churches and shrines. They’d covered every inch of the interior and exterior facade of each structure.
Hunt was clearly growing tired of the quest though he hadn’t lifted a finger to help. Today his principal occupation had been to locate a fresh supply of raki once he’d emptied the bottle that Ilhami had brought along in the car.
Daniel walked up to the exterior of yet another obscure shrine which their guide had selected to show them.
“Here, you come inside here, please!” Ilhami beckoned to the scion insistently.
Hunt trailed absently in their wake. Now well into his second bottle of liquor, his gait had become a trifle unsteady.
Daniel wasn’t impressed by the structure that confronted him. A small round building, windowless with a single arched doorway that stood open to the elements. Erected of rustic grey stone and mortar, it seemed to have sprung from the rocky terrain underfoot.
“This is church of Aiya Anastasia,” Ilhami informed them. “Very old. Nobody come here now.”
The Turk stepped aside to allow Daniel to pass. Daniel knew that Aiya meant something like “saint” in Turkish. He walked into the cool, dim interior. There was nothing to see. One stuccoed room with a flaking, faded fresco of what appeared to be an angel. In front of the fresco stood an iron votive stand with several dozen glass candle holders. No one had come here to pray for a very long time. He could tell by the thick layer of dust that coated the tops of the burned-out candles.
The scion lit his flashlight to inspect the ceiling and walls. As he expected, there was nothing to be seen. No lily symbol that would guide him to the artifact his father so desperately wanted him to find. He sighed as weariness overtook him.
Stepping backwards out of the little stone church, he walked around its perimeter, followed closely by Ilhami. He looked first at the rounded roof and then at the foundation. There were chips and irregularities in the surface of the stone but nothing that seemed to be a distinct mark of any kind.
As Daniel came back around to the front of the shrine, he noticed another car climbing up the dusty trail. A young couple got out. They appeared to be in their twenties. Perhaps newlyweds on vacation. The man held a video camera.
“Hello,” the woman greeted them. Her accent was American.
“Hello,” Daniel replied.
Ilhami bobbed his head.
Hunt tipped his cowboy hat but said nothing.
The three men moved several yards away to allow the couple privacy as they toured the shrine. They were deeply engrossed in a guide book that gave the history of the site. The woman was reading aloud from it while the man filmed the church.
Hunt had a calculating gleam in his eye as he leaned over to whisper in Daniel’s ear. “Hey, what say I get ‘em to clear out in a hurry?” He opened his jacket to briefly reveal the gun resting in a holster beneath his arm.
The scion grew alarmed. “Mr. Hunt, you can’t be serious!”
The mercenary shrugged. “Ain’t nobody around to tell on me. This trip’s been mighty dull so far. How about I stir things up a bit? Throw a scare into ‘em.”
Daniel gripped Hunt’s wrist. “You’ll do no such thing! I’m afraid I must insist.”
Hunt raised his eyebrows, shaking his hand free. “You gonna insist?”
For a split second, Daniel thought the man was about to strike him.
Then the mercenary broke into a lopsided grin. “Aw shucks, can’t you tell I’m just pullin’ yer leg? When you gonna learn to take a joke, boy?”
Daniel only relaxed by a hairsbreadth. Hunt’s face was flushed, exhilarated. There was liquor on his breath. Despite his protests, Daniel wondered if Hunt might not have been serious about terrorizing the young couple. He seemed to like to scare people. He also seemed to like to kill people when the opportunity presented. If he thought he could get away with it, Hunt might have shot the couple for sport.
Shaking off the chilling notion, Daniel said, “Mr. Hunt, why don’t you sit down in the shade of that tree for a while. I won’t be much longer.”
Leroy gave Daniel a sour look and wandered off to take a seat on the grass. He opened his bottle again.
Ilhami tapped Daniel on the shoulder. “Back here is cemetery. You come look here.”
Strewn across the green hillside were a series of headstones. Unlike the neat, orderly rows of a modern cemetery, the rocks were scattered haphazardly Many were sunken into the ground.
&nb
sp; Hunt called out, “Brother Hammy. Y’all come on over here and set yourself down for a spell.”
The guide looked questioningly at Daniel.
“Go with him,” the scion suggested, secretly glad to be rid of the duo while he inspected the rest of the site.
The Turk happily ambled over to the tree in whose shade Hunt was reclining. He sat down cross-legged on the ground and took a long draught from the bottle which the mercenary held out to him.
By this time the young couple had departed. After filming the exterior of the shrine, they got back into their car and headed down the mountain.
Daniel turned upland to inspect the markings on the headstones. Even though he tried to ignore the conversation of his companions, it was impossible.
Hunt was apparently in a jovial mood fueled by too much raki and the fantasy of killing innocent tourists. He put his arm around the Turk and said, “Brother Hammy, how’d you like to learn a song?”
“I like American songs.” The guide smiled amiably.
“Well, this ain’t like no song you ever heard before. In fact, it’s about somethin’ that happened right here in your own backyard.”
“Here?” Ilhami asked doubtfully.
“Yup, it happened a long time ago when you all was fightin’ the Russkies. During the Crimean War.”
“Crimean?’ The guide repeated the word carefully. “What this means?”
“It’s that little spit of land that hangs out into the north side of the Black Sea. A lot of big battles got fought there, so that’s why the war got named after it. Anyhow, this here song is called ‘Abdul The Bulbul Emir.’”
“Emir,” Ilhami repeated. “I know this word, and Abdul is man’s name.”
“That’s right,” Hunt nodded encouragingly. “So this fella Abdul is Turkish, and he gets into a tussle with this Russian dude who steps on his toe, and they end up killin’ each other.”
Ilhami’s face was puzzled. “They die because one man steps on toe of other?”
The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set Page 47
