The Nabatean Secret

by J C Ryan

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please hold your questions. I have a statement.

  “It has not escaped the attention of my office that there have been charges levelled against one of our security agencies. As your President, I give you my word that these charges are under investigation and have been under investigation since they were first brought to our attention.

  “In the interest of national security as well as world peace and stability, certain aspects of the investigation will not be made public now or in the future. However, the decision about what will and will not be made public rests in the hands of the National Security Council and not me.

  “Should the investigation reveal wrongdoing by me or any of my appointees, I will bear the consequences, whatever they may be. I assure you, the orders to the investigators are to leave no stone unturned, no secret unexplored, and no person untouched by reason of his or her office.”

  Grant looked out at the sea of faces. “That’s all. Thank you.”

  As the roar went up, each journalist shouting his or her questions, the President turned and left the podium. Scott Eadie stepped forward and spoke unnecessarily into the microphone. “No questions.”

  Watching in their offices as the press conference was aired, James and Irene turned to each other. James spoke first.

  “Batten down the hatches. They’ll come after us.”

  Irene smiled. “And we’ll be ready for them. I’ve practiced my ‘no comment’ until I can say it in my sleep. Let’s just hope the others get to the bottom of this quickly.”

  Chapter 39 - Nothing of use here

  March 23

  Packing up for yet another move, Mackenzie confessed she was tired of living on the run. “I’d like to hang my clothes up for a change, not live out of the suitcase.”

  “I thought you hated those clothes,” Carter said, looking at the drab, distressed jeans and gray T-shirt Mackie had on today. Honestly, he hated them, too. And he hated the weave that turned her flaming hair down to a low simmer. His Mackie had many fine features to be in love with, but that hair was the kicker. For a moment, he considered what it would be like when it began to naturally fade and turn gray. Nah, she’ll dye it back to its natural color. She likes being a redhead as much as I like teasing her about it. A moment later, he admitted to himself that he’d love her if her hair was pink with purple polka-dots, and a muted redhead was better than no redhead at all. He’d still have her temper to love.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Carter. I’m grateful to have them. They just aren’t very flattering.” She glanced at herself in the warped mirror, noting with interest that it made her look pregnant. Or maybe it was the shapeless T-shirt that did that.

  “Well, at least we aren’t on the run for real. It’s like hide and seek, but with secret clearance not to be arrested.” Carter grinned and caught his wife in his arms for a moment. He kissed her until she relaxed and then licked the end of her nose.

  “Ew! Carter!”

  Carter laughed. “Come on, our chariot awaits us.”

  ***

  No more than twenty minutes after the Devereuxs left in Sean’s SUV, Kelly White, Russell McCormick, and an FBI SWAT team arrived at the safe house and entered after an authoritative knock at the door.

  “Clear! Clear!” rang through the house as the SWAT team did their usual.

  “No one’s here,” the team leader reported to McCormick.

  “Damn. We missed them,” he said to Kelly. To the team leader, he ordered, “See if you can find out how long ago they left.”

  “Or if they were here in the first place,” Kelly added. McCormick shot her an irritated glance. Lately, she’d seemed distant.

  “I’m confident they were here. We have an eyewitness,” McCormick snapped. “They’re clever. They move around constantly, but the noose is tightening.”

  Kelly worried for half a second and then decided Russell was being his normal, arrogant self. She didn’t answer.

  “Coffeemaker is still warm. I’d say we missed them by minutes,” the team lead reported ten minutes later. “I’m no expert, but we’ve got fingerprints. The lab geeks will be able to say if they belong to the suspects, sir.”

  “Wrap it up here, but keep looking. They can’t have gone far.”

  ***

  A few miles away, in a different subdivision in a different bedroom community outside the Beltway, Carter was explaining about his idea of finding the library of the Nabateans.

  “I don’t know,” Dylan mused. “Would it be much good?”

  Sean elaborated, “I thought civilization devolved after the Giants. Why would you risk money and your life to go after something from modern times?”

  Mackenzie laughed at the notion of a mere century after the birth of Christ being “modern” times.

  Dylan had more to say. “I’d rather put our efforts into finding the Nabateans and taking them out to Freydís for a bit of wolf-enhanced interrogation.”

  “Well, of course, that would be the ideal outcome. But I still think there’s merit in looking for their library,” Carter said.

  “I’ve got to admit, you have made some astonishing discoveries in unexpected places,” Sean answered. “Maybe it’s a good idea, later, but a bit dangerous at the moment—”

  “What we want to do is figure out where the library might be from the information available,” Mackenzie said. “Carter will go looking for it after we're allowed to move around freely again.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” Dylan asked. “We can get you the full file we have on them. Will that help?”

  “It’s a start.”

  After they were settled in their new “home away from home” as Carter called it, Sean brought them a stack of boxes. “Sorry for the low tech. Still not safe to have you making queries about them on the internet.”

  “No problem,” Carter and Mackenzie chorused.

  “I love the smell of paper and ink. It’s almost as good as the smell of papyrus.” Carter grinned.

  They dove into the work and read quickly through everything the CIA researchers could find on the Nabateans. It was a mix of old information and the new data from Algosaibi’s laptop and flash drive. Unfortunately, there was nothing Carter didn’t already know.

  “Nothing of use here,” he said, disappointed.

  “It was a good refresher, though,” Mackenzie remarked. Carter was the one with the eidetic memory. She needed to see most things more than once to fix them in her mind.

  “We need more,” Carter mumbled.

  “What about the Smithsonian? It’s a treasure trove of undiscovered information,” Mackenzie said, remembering it was there she’d found her first serious lead to the ancient respirocytes. That had led her to Armenia and the Sirralnnudam. Maybe a similar discovery could lead them to the ancient library of the Nabateans. Heck, maybe the whole library is in there. It could certainly be hiding in that dusty warren.

  Carter startled her by swooping in and giving her a bear hug. “What would I do without you, Mackie?” he asked rhetorically. “You’ve done it again!”

  The request was an unusual one and not easy to accommodate. Sean and Dylan couldn’t make it happen on their own, but they asked Bill to pull strings, and he finally found one that rang the bell.

  Chapter 40 - A box of chocolates

  March 23 to 24

  Sean and Dylan had been busy. In addition to setting up Carter and Mackenzie inside the Smithsonian, they’d made a clandestine raid on the hangar where the specially-outfitted plane that flew back and forth from Freydís was kept.

  Dubbed the “milk” plane for the ruse it had first used to disguise its missions, the plane belonged to the CIA now, and a CIA pilot and crew were assigned to it. But Bill trusted no one, now that a top FBI official had been implicated. He’d put surveillance on the pilot and crew, and now a team of engineers who knew nothing of the missions were to accompany Sean and Dylan on a thorough inspection of the aircraft.

  Specs in hand, they
went over it with care. Behind one of the walls, they found a device that wasn’t accounted for in the specs. About the size of a one-pound box of chocolates, it was wired into the craft’s electrical system. It could have been simply a modification the original designers weren’t aware of, but the engineers didn’t know what it did or how it worked. Only that it wasn’t on the specs and therefore of suspicious origin.

  After discussion with Sean and Dylan, they decided not to touch it. For all they knew, it could belong to the bad guys and could be rigged to send a warning to them if anyone interfered with it. Or worse, blow up in their faces.

  Instead, they planted a few modifications of their own. From the cockpit to the tail, they planted microscopic bugs. The tiniest and most sophisticated available. If the pilot or the crew were involved in the leak and talked about it, they’d know. If they even came within a yard of the device, they’d know.

  For her part, Kelly White had also been busy. At night, after Russell had gone to sleep, she padded through his apartment barefoot, planting bugs of her own. She even managed to drop a couple in his car.

  Keeping up the appearance of the relationship was a strain, and she sometimes caught him looking at her in a curious or speculative way. If he asked her whether something was wrong, she’d always plead exhaustion and the strain of the case. It was imperative that he not suspect her.

  By now, she knew the Nabateans’ reputation for ruthlessness. Not only was learning who the NSC leak on the line. Her life could be forfeited as well.

  ***

  Twenty-four hours after the request found its mark, Carter and Mackenzie were ushered into their next “home away from home”. Mackenzie couldn’t help but wonder who or what had last used the bed they were given, tucked away in a locked and windowless section in a sub-basement of the Smithsonian. Countless scenes from old black and white movies full of reanimated mummies and other horrors flashed through her memory until she noticed Carter’s eyes were sparkling.

  “What are you so happy about?” she asked a little peevishly.

  “Who’s going to find us here? Literally one person in the world knows exactly where we are. She’ll bring us food, drink, other necessities, and anything we ask for that the Smithsonian has for us to research. I could stay here for years and not run out of material to study. What more could I want?”

  Mackenzie didn’t lack for a list. “Sunshine, fresh air, our kids—”

  “Mackie, relax, it’s just for a few days.”

  “Remind me how this person that we’ve never seen and who has never seen us is supposed to see to our needs,” Mackenzie said, knowing she’d never be able to explain to Carter about her unnamed and formless fears. She just didn’t like dark, underground places. Never had, but especially so since she’d been held in Saudi Arabia.

  “We have a computer here,” Carter said, showing it to her. “It isn’t connected to the internet, nor to the Smithsonian’s network. It communicates directly to a similar computer with the deputy director of the museum, who knows someone is here but not who. She will personally see to it our requests are met. She’s set guards outside the doors to this area in case someone wanders into out-of-bounds areas. They think they’re guarding a priceless artifact.”

  “You mean like a mummy?” Mackenzie asked. She was beginning to grin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter 41 - In search of the secret library

  March 24 to 26

  It soon became apparent to Carter and Mackenzie just why their lair had been carved out of a corner of this particular sub-sub-basement under the original Smithsonian castle. In addition to the alcove where their bed, small refrigerator, and microwave had been placed, just a few steps away was another with a couple of desks.

  Extension cords with power strips attached to the ends snaked through the area, providing them with the power outlets that hadn’t been included when the edifice was completed in 1855. Nor in later improvements, which at some point had included overhead electric lights and a bathroom down the hall that must have dated from the 1930s.

  For Carter, accustomed to conditions on archaeological digs, it was the height of luxury. For Mackenzie, a little better than camping out, but without the charm of the campfire.

  What fascinated them both, however, was room after room of ancient tomes, and thankfully, card catalogs to help them locate anything useful. Carter observed the card catalogs probably hadn’t been digitized and added to the electronic records of the museum. He based that on the amount of dust covering the books and catalog cabinets alike.

  Even better, this section appeared to contain examples of everything ever written on ancient Arabic and Middle Eastern history. Surely, if any ideas about the location of the mythical Nabatean library existed, they’d be found here.

  Mackenzie, having more recent experience with old-school search methods like card catalogs, suggested they divide and conquer. Each small room contained hundreds of books—they’d better narrow down the search quickly. Carter agreed, and that was why he was alone when he found the room with early archaeologists’ best guesses about the Nabatean tribe.

  “Mackie! I’ve got it!” he shouted. Dust scattered from the card catalog where he’d found an entire section about the Nabateans.

  From somewhere nearby, Mackenzie’s muffled reply sounded something like, “I’m coming.” But it was several minutes before she arrived, looking flushed and with a smudge of dirt on her nose.

  Carter’s hands were full of books by the time she arrived. “Look! We aren’t the first to be curious about the Nabateans. Help me skim through these books!”

  Mackenzie helped carry the first batch of books back to the office alcove, where they each took a desk and a chair and carefully opened the old books. For the next several hours, they compared what they were seeing in the books, and Mackenzie took notes on her laptop as they endeavored to understand the ancient history of the obscure tribe.

  The Nabateans had been nomadic, like most of the tribes in the area. Through the ages, they’d developed the reputation of being excellent traders and navigators on the sea of the desert. Presumably that had made them wealthy in their day. Each treatise mentioned the curious lack of written records, though Carter said it made sense.

  Written records and a nomadic lifestyle didn’t really go together, especially in a time before the use of papyrus was widespread. Clay tablets and metal plates would be cumbersome.

  “Was it really before papyrus?” Mackenzie asked.

  “According to these books, it could have been. The Nabateans themselves couldn’t name the origins of their tribe. Several modern tribes, in the sense of any time after Christ, claim they’re the descendants.”

  “What about their city? Petra? Could it be there?” Mackenzie asked.

  “You’d think so,” Carter answered. “But archaeologists have been all over the ruins like ants. I’d think it would have been discovered if it were there. Traditional lines of thought among archaeologists aren’t going to get us anywhere. I’m wondering if we’re on the wrong track altogether.”

  “What about coming at it from the other end? Who are these people today? Not the group of megalomaniacs we’re dealing with now, but the people as a whole?”

  “That’s another dead end, I’m afraid,” Carter said. “You can see by the accounts of these guys we’re reading that no one knows what happened to them after 106 AD, when the region was taken over by Rome. One says they were poor, backward, and despised by the other tribes. I suppose eventually they were absorbed.”

  “But then who are the Council of the Covenant of Nabatea? Is that just a name they gave themselves? Wouldn’t the surname Nabati indicate they were members of the tribe?”

  Carter couldn’t fault Mackenzie’s reasoning, but there simply wasn’t enough to go on for a definitive answer. Maybe Graziella and Mathieu Nabati could tell them, but they weren’t available to ask. And it was doubtful they’d give a straight answer anyway. He shrugged. “I just don’t
know.”

  Mackenzie wasn’t ready to give up. She’d seen Carter make intuitive leaps again and again, and she knew that he’d make a connection in that magic brain of his, if she could think of the right prompts.

  “Carter, you said what happened after 106 AD, when the region was taken over by Rome. What did happen? How did they take over?”

  “Well, that’s interesting. There’s no record of a Roman military campaign into what’s now Jordan at that time. And yet, the region, and Petra itself, was absorbed into the Roman Empire. The region was called Arabia Petraea, and Petra was its capital, under Roman rule. It seems to have continued to flourish.”

  “How could that have happened?” Mackenzie wondered. “If the Romans moved in, where did the Nabateans go? Carter, why don’t we try to imagine what might have happened to them?”

  “Imagine? Mackie, that’s not the way archaeology is done. Nor the way you work. It isn’t scientific method.”

  “Actually, it kind of is. You think about a problem, postulate a solution, and then test it. Obviously, we can’t test it right now, but we might as well lay the groundwork.”

  Carter sighed. Mackie isn’t going to let this go until I try it. Redheads are so stubborn! “Okay. Look, here’s a guy who has a theory that sounds like a good starting point. He thinks maybe the wealthy Nabateans became Romanized.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning they took Roman and Greek names, which were popular at the time, and continued business as usual. They were excellent traders, and it says over here in this book they were talented engineers. What’s the most valuable substance in the desert?”

  “Food?” ventured Mackenzie.

  “Close enough. Water. They had the means to collect and store water from the flash floods that carved the valley in the first place. They’d sell it to merchants on the trade routes. No one could get through that part of the desert without stopping at Petra. It was like a gas station in the Australian Outback, you know those with a sign that says, no gas for the next four hundred miles!”