The crowd erupted with applause then, many people standing, cheering and shouting, and Kotler waved to them as he left the stage.
The talk had gone better than Kotler had expected. He was glad, but he was also exhausted. The excitement, the tension, the anxiety that came with preparing for this talk was finally asking its toll. As he rode in the hired car, provided by his hosts, he felt himself being lulled toward sleep. He could use a nap.
When they arrived at the bar, however, he exited the car, thanked and tipped his driver, and walked inside. He would have preferred to go straight home, but this was a neutral meeting place. And he wasn’t opposed to having a drink—maybe a small celebration for what had been a good day.
Looking around, he spotted Agent Denzel in the back and made his way to the booth where he was seated. Denzel was reading something.
“The Celts,” Kotler read from the cover. “Roland, I’m impressed! I had no idea you had an interest in ancient cultures.”
"Hard to avoid, hanging around with you," Denzel said. He stuck a business card into the book to mark his spot and placed the book on the table. He picked up a glass, about a quarter filled with some amber liquid. "Scotch?" Denzel asked.
“Please,” Kotler said, sliding into the booth across from his partner.
Denzel motioned, catching the attention of their waitress, and indicated he wanted two more.
Kotler yawned. “Did you catch any of the presentation?” he asked.
Denzel nodded. "I saw most of it on the live stream, on the flight in. I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person. I just got here about forty minutes ago. I've been in Texas for the past three days."
The waitress arrived with their drinks. “I assume you’re off duty,” Kotler said, indicating the scotch.
“I am, but I’m still here on business.”
“You mean you didn’t come to congratulate me?” Kotler grinned.
Denzel shook his head. “It was a speech, Kotler, not a Nobel Prize. Something’s come up. And it involves you.”
Kotler nodded, taking a lingering sip of his scotch. “Ok, you know me, Roland. I’m always willing to help with a case.”
“No, I mean this one actually involves you. Something you were involved with years ago. A dig in Egypt.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Kotler replied, smiling.
“It’s about some brass hall you found. And a sword.”
Kotler blinked, his drink hovering just in front of his lips. He placed the glass on the table. “The brass hall,” he said. “That was … twenty years ago, I think? Have they found something? Did Dr. Warner reach out?”
Denzel shook his head. "Dr. Warner passed away, about two years ago. His wife passed a few months back. Their kids sold their home and divided up their belongings, but in all that, they threw some stuff out. Some guy found a safe that Warner had held on to, and drilled into it." Denzel turned and opened the leather attache at his side. He fished out an object wrapped in cloth, and placed it on the table, sliding it to Kotler.
Kotler peered at him, wondering, then leaned forward, opening the cloth to examine what was inside.
As the cloth fell away, it revealed a circular and ornate piece of brass, encircling a large, red jewel. Kotler reached for it, but hesitated, looking at Denzel. His partner nodded, and Kotler picked up the amulet, to look closer.
Both sides were engraved with a series of lines and patterns. Kotler recognized them instantly. "Celtic runes," he whispered. He looked up. "No wonder you're boning up. And this isn't in an evidence bag."
Denzel shook his head. "That's because it isn't part of an investigation. I was called in because local law enforcement knew about Historic Crimes. I've spent the past three days helping to run background and clear the guy who found this. He had brought this to the Houston Museum of Natural Science, trying to sell it. They thought he might be an antiquities smuggler, so they called the police. The guy's story checked out, though. The museum is negotiating the best way to compensate him for the find, and I'm leaving that to them. At that point, I was mostly there to determine if there was anything the FBI needed to investigate. Dr. Warner had worked on some government contracts just prior to his death. We were making sure there was no foul play."
"And for that, they needed to call you in from Manhattan?" Kotler asked.
“Well, I think they were angling more for getting you involved,” Denzel replied. “Your name is all over the files Warner kept. What files we could retrieve, anyway. The guy who found this said there were all sorts of boxes filled with files and paperwork, but he left all that for the trash collectors. There were a few things in the box that contained the safe. Most of it was written by you.”
Kotler shook his head. “I’ve never seen this object before.”
“But you did find that brass hall?”
Kotler nodded. "Oh yes. Evidence of a Celtic presence in ancient Egypt. I found it, with the help of a local guide. And before it caved in on the two of us, I managed to retrieve an artifact—a bronze sword. When we made our way back to the camp, and I showed everyone what we'd found, there was a lot of excitement and interest. And then I was told I was no longer needed for the project."
“Bitter?” Denzel asked.
Kotler laughed. “At first. But no, I got over it. I tried to follow the progress of the dig after that, but I was usually blocked. As an independent, I spent most of my career being blacklisted from one project or another. This one had the potential for a great deal of prestige. Dr. Warner never liked me much, so he had no intention of keeping me on.”
“But it was your discovery,” Denzel said.
Kotler sipped his scotch and nodded. "It was mine. But then it became his."
Denzel pondered this for a moment, then took something else out of his bag. A sheet of paper. He slid it across to Kotler.
Kotler took it, examining it, and looked up to Denzel. “This is real?”
Denzel nodded. "It's not a will or anything, but it's authentic. Sorry, it took a couple of years to come up. It got buried in that box, after Warner's death."
The paper was a letter, written and signed by Dr. Warner.
To the members of the council,
Though it pains me to admit it, we must consider including Dr. Dan Kotler in the next phase of discovery, regarding the brass hall and the tomb of Credne. Though funding and local political upheaval have presented near-impenetrable obstacles, our exploration of the Credne vault produced some of the most profound cultural finds of the century. It is a great burden to me that these finds remain hidden from the public.
I’ll get to the point. I have recently been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I am not given much time. I have taken steps to ensure that all of my projects can continue, under competent leadership. This project, however, remains a thorn. The overseer of the site, now under Egyptian authority, refuses to work with this counsel or any other exploratory team, unless that team includes Dr. Kotler.
Dr. Maalyck has made it clear that unless Dr. Kotler is part of future expeditions, the site will remain closed to outsiders.
I have fought this proviso for close to two decades, and now my strength and my time have come to an end.
Therefore, I propose that we invite Dr. Kotler to participate and perhaps even lead the exploratory team. The brass hall awaits, gentlemen, and with it, I believe, the answers we seek. There are treasures of history waiting to be discovered, and secrets of our culture waiting to provide illumination. We are close to uncovering something that will change history as we know it. I would like for my legacy to include its revelation to the world.
Dr. Joseph Warner
Kotler looked up, surprised. "Well, this is unexpected."
"It's also a couple of years delayed," Denzel said. "Dr. Warner died before he could submit that letter. The council members he's writing to are part of a diverse University-governed board. A joint operation between multiple programs. Warner was one of the founders, based largely on this
find. But none of them ever saw this letter, and the whole thing was shelved."
Kotler sighed. “Of course it was,” he said, and chuckled. “I’m shocked that Warner would even think to recommend me, but I’m not surprised in the least that no one else ever considered it.” He studied the letter again. “Dr. Maalyck …” he said. “I knew someone with that name.”
Denzel nodded. “Dr. Martook Maalyck. He works with the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities.”
Kotler started. “Did you say Martook?” he asked. “It really is him?”
Denzel shook his head. “Really is who?”
“Martook,” Kotler grinned. “He was the guide! He and his friends found the brass hall in the first place.” Kotler laughed lightly. “Well look what he went and did. He became an archaeologist!”
“A pretty good one, from what I’ve seen,” Denzel replied. “We reached out to him. He’s just below the Director, overseeing field work and acquisitions. He was very excited to learn about this medallion thingy.”
Kotler laughed. “I don’t think that’s a medallion,” he said. “More like an amulet, maybe.”
“Well, whatever it is, Dr. Maalyck was excited about it. Even more excited when he heard your name. He wants to speak with you.”
“I’d be happy to!” Kotler replied. “I haven’t seen him in twenty years, and then he was just a boy. And not a very good listener,” Kotler frowned. “But he had a real sense of adventure. I liked him very much.”
“He’s flying here,” Denzel said. “To retrieve that,” he indicated the amulet. “And I figured you’d want to be the one to give it to him.”
Kotler smiled. “I’d be honored.”
Denzel nodded.
They sipped their drinks, and Kotler said, “So, is that the business you’re here on? You’re delivering this to me so I can hand it over to Martook? I mean … Dr. Maalyck?”
“Well, there’s that, and the map.”
Kotler frowned. “What map?”
Denzel grinned and picked up the amulet. He took a small flashlight out of his coat pocket and played the beam through the jewel.
Kotler gawked at the table between them.
“That map,” Denzel said.
Chapter Two
Dr. Martook Maalyck was led into the forensics lab by one of Denzel’s team. Dr. Ludlum had been gracious enough to let them use one of the examination tables, as well as some of her equipment and tools. She hovered nearby, as curious about all of this as anyone.
Kotler was excited, but he was starting to think that Denzel was even more so.
“This is just kind of neat,” Denzel said, a boyish smirk on his lips.
“You’ve seen secret maps and hidden treasures before,” Kotler replied.
“But this time there are no terrorists or bombs or viruses to worry about,” Denzel said. “It’s kind of nice.”
Kotler had to admit, it was a pleasant change of pace. For two years now he’d been abducted and tortured, had dodged bullets, had faced down bombs and nuclear devices and maniacal would-be despots. He had to admit, he missed the simple joys of digging into an ancient mystery without a clock running. It really was nice.
Dr. Maalyck was led into the room, carrying a long, leather case. Kotler barely recognized him. The boy he'd known was now a man in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in a very well-tailored bespoke suit, complete with a bow tie. He wore dark-rimmed glasses that had a vintage look, behind which his eyes glowed with intelligence and interest. Overall he had the appearance of a successful academic—far different from the boy wearing only a pair of ratty shorts and shoes made from car tires. He'd grown into quite a figure.
“Dr. Kotler,” Maalyck said, grinning. His voice was quiet, lightly accented, and had a tinge of emotion. He held out a hand, and Kotler took it.
“Martook,” Kotler said. “Or should I say, Dr. Maalyck?”
“For you, old friend, I am forever Martook.”
Kotler laughed, and the two of them embraced. “I had no idea! You’ve become quite an accomplished man!”
Kotler had looked into Maalyck's history, after learning he was on his way. After their adventure in the brass hall, and after Kotler's dismissal from the dig site, Maalyck had made a nuisance of himself, appearing daily to help with the work and refusing to leave. Eventually, the researchers grew fond of him, or perhaps decided that he was never going to leave. They gave him tasks, just to keep him busy and out of the way. To their surprise, he excelled at these, and demonstrated an insatiable curiosity for the work.
When Martook was old enough, he entered the University of Cairo, accompanied by multiple letters of recommendation. His time at the dig site had endeared him to many of the researchers, most of whom went on to their own distinguished careers. One of these was Dr. John Graham, whom Kotler and Denzel had worked with briefly. Graham had been the one who found the body of a Broadway star, Maggie Hamilton, in a previously "undiscovered" Mayan tomb. Graham had not been Kotler's biggest fan, for a number of reasons, and was generally tough on grad students and low-level archeologists. For him to give Martook a letter of recommendation, the boy must have shown extraordinary promise.
Martook—Maalyck— entered the archaeology program at the University of Cairo, specializing in cultural anthropology. From all accounts, he completely immersed himself in his studies, using his past experience at the brass hall dig site to propel himself in his career. Eventually, his zeal for anthropology led to early graduation. His field work was perhaps the best any graduate student had ever participated in, with his choice of sites across the continent and beyond. He'd shown great passion for this work. A worthy career.
Maalyck demurred the praise. “I am honored to do this work. And I have you to thank for it.”
“Me?” Kotler replied.
“You showed me the value of knowledge, both practical and theoretical. You introduced me to a world only visible to those who study and work hard to understand. And, of course, you saved my life. I owe you more than I can repay.”
Kotler felt a little choked up, but nodded. “Well, you’ve done very well for yourself, and you’re contributing to the exploration of human history. We’ll call that payment enough.” Kotler smiled. “And now, here we are, with a whole new mystery to solve. Maybe this time you can teach me a few things.”
They retreated to the table where the amulet was displayed on a cloth. Hovering above it was a light, and along with the standard magnifying glass, there was also a mounted camera. On a large display behind the table was a crisp, high-definition image of the amulet. The runes and engravings stood out in contrast from brass.
Dr. Ludlum had followed them as they moved into the lab, and was standing nearby. She and Kotler exchanged light smiles. It had been a few months since the two of them had shared a kiss, after a tense moment near Lake Adirondack. She had saved his life, taking down a trained hitman before he could end Kotler’s life.
Since the kiss, they had talked, and had even dated a little. They were taking things very slowly. Very slowly. Kotler’s luck with relationships, over the past three years, hadn’t been stellar. And the fact that he and Liz worked together added some complication. But they’d work it out. He hoped.
“Dr. Maalyck,” Kotler said, “this is Dr. Liz Ludlum. She’s the Lead Forensic Specialist here in Historic Crimes.”
Maalyck took her hand and bowed his head slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Ludlum beamed. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit in on this. I’ve been very curious about the amulet.”
“Not at all!” Maalyck said. “But I believe, first, I must correct the record.” He turned to the amulet, and lifted the leather case, placing it on the exam table. He opened it, and Kotler felt a shock of recognition.
“That’s the sword,” he said, looking to Maalyck. “The sword from the brass hall!”
Maalyck smiled and nodded. "It is," he replied, his tone soft, almost reverent. "I have been very f
ortunate to have had a role in uncovering more of the tomb of Credne. The Ministry of Antiquities honored me by recognizing my role in the discovery of the hall, and this sword. I insisted that your name was added to the discovery as well, Dr. Kotler."
“I received a letter about that,” Kotler nodded. “I was honored, but I had no idea you had recommended me. Thank you.”
“You were the sole reason anyone knew the hall was there,” Maalyck replied.
“So what does the sword have to do with the amulet?” Denzel asked.
Kotler looked up, smiling. His partner rarely showed such interest in these things, and it was endearing to see it.
Maalyck also smiled. “For a start, it is not an amulet, as I have said. It is, in fact, a pommel.”
Kotler blinked, and then leaned in for a closer look. “A pommel!” He moved so that he could examine the hilt of the sword, and glanced up to Maalyck. “May I?” He said, gesturing to the sword.
“Of course,” Maalyck replied. “This is why I have brought it.”
Kotler smiled and gingerly reached into the leather case. He lifted the sword, supporting the blade with his left hand and pinching the hilt between the thumb and forefinger of his right. He raised it so he could look closer at the hilt.
There, at the pommel end of the hilt, was a protrusion of metal. A tiny cross, ornately carved.
Kotler hadn’t had much opportunity to study the sword, after rescuing it from the brass hall. His credibility and clout were not yet enough to give him any sway among the academics and other researchers. Soon after his escape from Credne’s tomb, he was told that his services would no longer be needed. He had left the site and the project, moving on to other digs and other adventures. It had been two decades since he’d laid eyes on this sword, and he’d forgotten nearly every detail of it.
The God Extinction Page 3
