Sean Wyatt Compilation Box Set

by Ernest Dempsey

  Lindsey waved a dismissive hand then stuck it into his jacket pocket. “They will be left far behind. We were able to retrieve this from the third chamber.” He produced the small, round stone and handed it to Will.

  Will cradled it gently as he eyed the piece. He didn’t understand the writing on it, nor what it could all mean. But the French archaeologist knew what it meant. At least, he hoped the guy did. DeGard seemed to know his stuff, so if he said that the place they needed to go was Turkey, Will and his boss would have to go with what the man said.

  He handed the object back to his employer. “So you got the only clue that could tell Wyatt and his friends where the next chamber was?”

  Lindsey gave a quick sideways nod that seemed to say a sarcastic, “Oh well.”

  “I was looking forward to finishing off that self-righteous has been. Perhaps I will see him again someday.”

  Kaba returned carrying a tray with a roast beef hoagie on a French roll, and a rocks glass with yellowish-brown liquid and three ice cubes. She cast him a quick smile before heading to a seat a little farther to the rear of the plane. The six men from outside entered the cabin and closed the door just before the jet started moving.

  Will took a huge bite out of the sandwich, and chewed it slowly like it was the best thing he’d eaten in his entire life. He put the food down on the silver platter and reached over for the drink then took a long, slow sip before letting out an “ahhh.”

  “Nothing but the best. That’s one of the things I love about working for you, sir.” Will set the glass back down and took a less aggressive bite of the sandwich.

  Lindsey crossed one leg over the other and sat back in his chair. “Speaking of best, I was wondering, how was it that Sean Wyatt got the best of you?”

  Will nearly choked on his food, but managed to gulp it down before speaking. The few seconds it took him to get the bite down gave him enough time to gain his composure. No one ever questioned him about his methods or his effectiveness. To be fair, he’d never screwed up before, so there’d never been reason to. That was probably one of the biggest reasons he hoped to meet up with Sean Wyatt again someday. From the sound of it, that rendezvous wouldn’t be soon. But it would happen eventually. Of that he was certain, even if it took him out of his way to make it happen, he would see Sean Wyatt again.

  “I was going to take them all out while they slept. It was three in the morning when I approached their car where they were sleeping. For some reason, Wyatt was awake and moving through the train cars. I don’t know. Maybe he couldn’t sleep or something. I took some shots at him when he realized who I was. He got lucky. It won’t happen again.” Will stopped talking for a minute and stared down at the floor. Then, he reached over suddenly and grabbed his glass of Scotch, downing the thing in one swallow.

  Lindsey remained calm, but concerned. “I don’t think we will be having any more problems with Mr. Wyatt. As stated, we have the only link to the location of the final chamber. I fail to see how Wyatt and his companions could ever conclude as to where its location could be without this stone.” He held it up proudly for a moment before placing it back in his pocket.

  Will was somewhat surprised by Lindsey’s reaction. The Prophet had been ruthless to people who failed him. He recalled the man Lindsey had thrown out of a helicopter into Lake Mead, and the two men on his council that had been placed into the brazen bull. He’d seen the contraption once when he was visiting Lindsey’s mountaintop mansion. Will had never heard of anything like that before that day. He imagined it to be an excruciating way to go. Such was the price of betrayal.

  Lindsey’s two right hand men had gone behind his back and sought to override his power. It was a move that had cost them their lives. Despite getting tired of being ordered around, Will had become a strong believer in what The Prophet was trying to do. He had seen too much evil in his lifetime. Criminals roamed free to rob and murder as they pleased, almost unchecked by inept police departments. Prisons were overcrowded, and the prisoner population continued to grow every year. It seemed every time Will turned on the news, there was some story about rape, murder, theft, something.

  But his employer had a plan for all of that. And it started with finding the last golden chamber. If the old man was right, and he usually was, the ancient Biblical source of immortality was hidden somewhere in eastern Turkey. It was gamble, but only one of money and time. The old man had plenty of the first, much less of the second. Will had bought into his grand plan and believed it could be achieved. But he also thought there must certainly have been some personal reasons Lindsey was searching for the lost tree of Eden and its mysterious power.

  It was a story Will knew well. He’d read all the books about men who had searched for the Fountain of Youth or a magical pool that could restore a human’s vitality. Those explorers searched only for a way to live forever. Lindsey was the first person he’d heard of who considered using it for other purposes. The world had become sick. And Alexander Lindsey had stumbled on an idea that could cure it.

  Will had grown up in an environment without love or compassion. He’d grown callus to the way the world had become. For most of his teenage and adult life, he’d lived a life of self-serving pleasure seeking. He’d had no purpose, no direction. Then, he met The Prophet. Alexander Lindsey had given Will something he’d never had before. He showed him the error of his ways, and a way to make the world a better place.

  That sentimental stuff hadn’t really resonated with Will. But he played along. He told Lindsey what he wanted to hear. The fact was, Will enjoyed killing. He enjoyed being given carte blanche to do whatever he wanted, with nearly unlimited resources. The old man paid well. Will got to travel all over the world, meet exotic women, and kill anyone Lindsey wanted dead.

  From time to time, Will hated being bossed around. Lindsey was a persistent manager of things and resources, always prying his controlling fingers into whatever was going on. The man expected constant reports on nearly every situation. The Prophet was the only person, though, who had ever been a father figure to Will. Lindsey had taken good care of him, and always would. Occasionally, he wondered if he would be included in the old man’s inheritance. Wild thoughts about beaches, women in bikinis, mansions, fast cars, and drinks that never ran out, would run rampant through his mind. While he had to play by Lindsey’s rules at the moment, that wouldn’t last forever. If his employer left Will enough money when he kicked off, he would live the life he’d always wanted: one of hedonism and leisure.

  Will watched Lindsey put the stone back in his pocket as the multitude of thoughts began to wind down to the warm internal glow the scotch provided.

  “I could use another one of those,” he held up the empty glass toward Kaba, who was sitting with her legs crossed in the seat across the aisle.

  She smiled politely, but her tone was snippy. “The bar is in the back,” she replied.

  Will let out a snort of laughter. “Fair enough.”

  He’d had plenty of fun with the young woman since she’d signed on with Lindsey. It had only taken one night of drinking together for them to find themselves waking up next to each other the following morning. Will wondered if their employer knew anything was going on, but he seemed oblivious. At least he acted like he was oblivious. Maybe he wouldn’t care.

  The jet engines strained outside the cabin as the plane taxied onto the runway, pausing briefly. There was a moment’s pause followed by the sudden thrust of acceleration. They whined louder as the vehicle tilted upward and pierced into the sky. Lindsey laid his head back against the headrest, eyes closed. DeGard was gazing out the window, moving his head around to better see the world dropping away below. A look of childlike curiosity covered his face.

  Had The Prophet told the Frenchman about their grand scheme? It wasn’t exactly something Will could just ask the man. He would probably have to wait and ask Lindsey later on when they were alone. For some reason, Will felt like DeGard most likely did not know what their real reason
s were behind finding the ark of Noah and the ancient source of immortality. He would find out soon enough, provided they had correctly interpreted the clues. Things were still unclear in Will’s mind as he found himself drifting away in random thoughts. His eyes became heavier as sleep dragged him away from the world of the conscious.

  Chapter 19

  Turkey

  Sean stared questioningly at Jabez. “What do you mean he might not have the only clue?” When they had left the third chamber, the room was vacant.

  Jabez leaned back in his seat and stretched out his arms. He could tell what Sean was thinking. “Lindsey retrieved the only clue from the third chamber. However, we believe there may be another clue that points the way to the ark’s resting place.”

  Sean and Adriana were huddled close, listening intently. Professor Firth seemed to be over his queasiness and had scooted back toward the group to hear what the Arab had to say.

  “There is an ancient monastery on the border of Armenia and Turkey called Khor Virap. It was built in the seventh century, but the site’s usage goes back all the way to the years following the time of Christ. Some have said that the apostles may have even visited the location.” He looked at each person of his audience directly in the eyes before continuing.

  “In the late third century, Saint Gregory the Illuminator was held prisoner there by the pagan king, Tiridates III, for thirteen years. In the end, Saint Gregory became a mentor for the king, and was eventually given acceptable quarters in the palace. The two of them ended up proselytizing communities all over the country.”

  Jabez could see Sean was attempting to tie everything together in his head. The Arab beat him to the punch. “History books give a few reasons for Gregory’s imprisonment. But the legend gives another. It suggests the reason for Saint Gregory’s imprisonment was that he knew an ancient secret, the location of something that could grant eternal life to anyone who found it.”

  “He knew where the ark was.” Sean injected.

  “So it would seem,” Jabez agreed. “The king had imprisoned Gregory in some of the deepest parts of the ancient fortress. It surely must have been a hell on earth. Thirteen years passed, during which the pagan king persecuted many Christians as well as anyone who refused to do his bidding. During the years of his imprisonment, Gregory suffered many forms of torture. The monarch became fond of Gregory and eventually gave up on the idea that the priest was hiding something. He resigned to the fact that Gregory would either never give up the information or had nothing to hide.”

  The airplane’s engines strained a little outside the cabin as it tipped a little to one side, altering its course before flattening out again. The maneuver caused Firth’s nausea to return, but he held it back, not wanting to miss anything Jabez was saying.

  “During Tiridates’s reign, he was said to have gone mad at some point, behaving like a wild boar and living with pigs. His sister had a vision in which she saw Gregory healing the king. She told the king’s most trusted counselors about the vision immediately. The council thought the priest must have surely died in the pit of the prison. But when they went to find him, the man was still alive. They pulled him out to discover him in terrible physical condition. After nursing the priest back to health, Gregory was able to heal the king and return him to a normal state of being.

  Adriana looked confused. Something didn’t add up. “How did Gregory survive that long without any sort of food or water? If he had been forgotten in the dungeon, he would have died within days, a week at most.”

  Jabez raised a finger to emphasize his point. “Precisely. He would have surely been dead if they had forgotten him in the dungeon, as the story suggests. Saint Gregory must have been sustained supernaturally to still be alive after all those years.”

  Sean was leery of jumping to conclusions. That was how people got their hopes up or found themselves searching for buried treasure in uncharted jungles. He’d seen and heard a lot of crazy stories over the last few years. But this one was different. A priest that lived for thirteen years without sunlight, proper food, and water? It didn’t make sense. Unless he had eaten from the tree. Sean shook off the thought for a moment. Something inside his head told him that was impossible. Even though everything he had seen up to that point pointed to the reality that the tree of life was a real thing, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

  A silent moment had taken over the conversation as everyone considered the implications. Sean broke it with a question. “So, the question is, what does this have to do with finding the fourth chamber? I mean, clearly you are suggesting there is a connection between the priest and the last chamber. Aren’t you?” He wanted to be sure he was following the Arab’s line of thought.

  “That is exactly what I’m saying,” Jabez nodded. “There can be no other conclusion. Clearly, Gregory found the chamber and the sacred tree. If he ate of it, the power within could have sustained him through those years in the darkness of the pit.”

  Lightning flashed outside the windows, illuminating the wing directly behind where Jabez was sitting. He sped up the pace of his tale. “It is no coincidence that Saint Gregory was a missionary to the area around the Armenian and Turkish border. He was an avid researcher and spent countless hours in the scriptures as well as ancient documents. Gregory was convinced that the reason that the tree of life could not be found after the Biblical flood was that it had been moved, not destroyed or covered up. His theory was that Noah removed the tree and placed it in the ark to keep it safe.”

  “So, the tree is in the ark?” Sean tried to clarify.

  “That is what we believe. And if Gregory found it, he may have left a clue as to its whereabouts.”

  Firth had heard enough. “You mean to tell us that you’re dragging us half-way across the Middle East on a hunch? It sounds as if you aren’t even sure there is a clue.”

  Jabez was briefly taken aback by the criticism, but he remained calm. “Saint Gregory left behind strange markings on the walls of the pit where he dwelled for those thirteen years. To date, no one has been able to explain them. I believe in those markings, Gregory gave us the location of the ark in case he did not live through the ordeal in the dungeon of Khor Virap.”

  It was a huge leap of faith their new friend was taking. Making the assumption that Sean and his colleagues could figure out what the inscriptions meant was a gamble, if there were any markings to begin with. Still, it was worth a try. They’d come too far to let Lindsey just walk away with whatever was to be found at the end of the trail.

  Firth was much more resistant. “Are you telling me that through all the centuries, no one has been able to make heads nor tails of the inscriptions you’re taking us to, yet we are supposed to magically come up with some answers as to what they could possibly mean?”

  Jabez looked at the gray haired professor for a few seconds then at Sean and Adriana. Both his eyebrows rose as he smiled. “Yes. That is exactly what I’m telling you. It seems to have worked for Mr. Wyatt so far. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sean couldn’t help himself and burst out into open laughter. “You know he’s right, Professor. We really do seem to be on a pretty good streak right now.” He shoved the professor’s shoulder playfully. Adriana smiled to one side of her face.

  “When we get there,” Jabez began again after a few more moments of laughter, “we will meet a friend who has access to the fortress prison. He will allow us to look at the pit without the distractions of other tourists.”

  It sounded like a plan or at least some semblance of one. Sean wished Tommy was there, knowing that his friend’s expertise would make things a lot easier. Sean hadn’t received any word on Tommy’s condition from the Greek hospital since before they left Cairo. He would have to check again once the airplane arrived in Istanbul.

  Second time in Istanbul. The first time he’d been there, things were different, and similar. Several years prior, an Axis assignment had taken him to the city that had long been the crossroads of so many cultu
res. Sean’s eyes narrowed as he recalled the mission.

  Axis had received information on a possible deal involving former Soviet nuclear weapons and a terrorist organization known as Red Circle. The intel had come through as a result of heightened interest in terrorist activity following the September 11 attacks. Word was that Red Circle planned on acquiring an old Russian nuke, and somehow getting into London. Most of the attention was focused on the United States in the months following the attacks on New York and Washington. The terrorists must have figured no one would be monitoring the safety of the UK.

  They’d been wrong. Axis was called in to assist British special ops and take down Red Circle before they ever had a chance to get their hands on the device. In Sean’s opinion, there’d been too many moving parts. There were so many people involved; it was a disaster waiting to happen. And it did. Several agents were killed from both agencies. The disaster, however, was averted. And the nuclear device was secured. In Sean’s mind, the lives lost could have been avoided. It was the last mission he’d served for Emily Starks before turning in his resignation.

  Sean realized he was staring at the floor and quickly regained his composure. “When we get to Istanbul, is your friend going to set us up with a place to stay? It sounds like he’s taken care of transportation.”

  Jabez nodded. “Yes, everything is taken care of. We will be staying at a hotel that is friendly to our cause. Our brother, Omar,” he pointed to one of the men on the other side of the plane toward the tail of the cabin, “his family owns a place. Arrangements have been made. We will stay the night in Istanbul and leave for the Armenian border early in the morning.”

  “Sounds good,” Sean said and leaned his head back against the wall near a window.