Once there was enough room for the workers to get their fingers under the lid, they set down their tools and took up positions opposite each other on either end. With a curt nod, they hefted the heavy object and slid it to where it was slightly less than half off the bottom. There, they held it in place, letting most of the weight rest on the sarcophagus’s rim.
“Perfect,” Sauvad said. “Just hold it there for a moment.”
The two workers pressed down on the lid’s edge to keep it in place as she moved closer.
When the dust settled, the cave’s occupants all stared inside to see what secrets the stone box held. They all expected bones, probably wrapped in medieval clothing or armor.
Instead, what they saw was a dusty shield. No skeleton. No armor. Just a shield.
Everyone in the cave frowned.
“Where’s the body?” Sauvad asked. “I don’t understand.”
Dr. Remming glanced over at Tommy. “You’ve kept this area secure since its discovery, yes?”
“Of course,” Tommy stammered. “We’ve had video surveillance and guards posted around the clock. If someone tried to get in here, we’d have known about it.”
Sauvad continued gazing into the sarcophagus. She reached out and ran a gloved finger along the shield’s edge, wiping a thin layer of dust from the surface. Her action revealed a pale yellow metal.
“Gold leaf on the edge,” she said. “If someone broke in here to steal something, they would have taken this with them.” She looked closer and wiped her hand across the breadth of the shield. “What’s this?”
She repeated the action three more times until everyone in the chamber could see clearly the image on the metal surface.
It was a black eagle, a symbol used by one of the greatest kings to ever live: Charlemagne.
“Wait a minute,” Tommy said. “That can’t be right.”
“It must be a forgery,” said Hathaway. “Charlemagne is buried in Aachen. Everyone knows that.”
“Yeah, but there’s no body here. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be a burial chamber.”
“Why, then, is there a sarcophagus?” Remming asked. “And why is it on Bouillon land?”
Tommy put his hands on his hips and stared at the shield. “Dr. Sauvad, may I use your gloves for a moment?”
“Certainly.”
“What are you doing?” Hathaway asked, his voice full of uncertainty.
“Just having a look.”
Tommy lifted the shield from its resting place and stared into the shadow underneath. A yellowish object caught his attention. Propping the shield up with one hand, he used the other to reach under. A moment later, he laid the shield back down and held up the object he’d removed.
It was a circular medallion with five half circles surrounding it. Every eye in the room stared at the small treasure.
“What is it? Who was the owner?” Sauvad asked.
“Where is the owner?” Remming asked.
“Look,” Tommy said. “On the back. There’s something inscribed on the metal.” He peered closer. “It looks like Latin.”
Sauvad read the lines out loud before the others had a chance. “It says, All who draw the sword will die by the sword.”
“Why in heaven’s name does it say that?” Hathaway asked.
The two workers suddenly drew pistols out of their jackets and pointed them at the other occupants.
“Hand over the medallion,” one of them said in heavily accented English. “Do it now, and don’t try anything stupid.”
The two Englishmen took a moment to process what was happening.
“What is the meaning of this?” Remming demanded.
Tommy answered for them. “They’re stealing this artifact. Which, I don’t have to tell you two, is a bad idea. You won’t get out of here with it.”
“We’ll see,” the worker who’d spoken before said. “Medallion. Now.”
His voice grew louder but still not loud enough to be heard outside the cave.
“You two positioned yourselves perfectly,” Tommy said. “Nobody can see you thanks to where the walls cut off. But they’ll see you come out. Then what’s your plan?”
“Not your concern. Now give me the medallion, or I kill her.” The worker pressed the muzzle to the side of Sauvad’s head.
She trembled but didn’t dare move.
“Okay, just take it easy,” Tommy said. He held out the object and moved his hand slowly toward the gunman. “Point the gun at me, not her. She’s not the one holding what you want. I am.”
“Shut up,” the gunman snapped.
When Tommy’s hand was at full extension, the gunman shoved Sauvad out of the way and snatched it from the American.
“Now all of you step back into the corner.” He waved his gun. His partner sidestepped toward the entrance, circling around the sarcophagus.
Tommy watched the second man’s movement and instantly recognized an opportunity. As the silent partner neared the other gunman, Tommy slid his hand on top of the sarcophagus lid as if to brace himself. When the other three researchers were safely behind him, he pressed down hard on the lid’s corner and stepped back.
The heavy object immediately slipped off its housing and crashed to the floor, crushing the second gunman’s foot in the process. He howled in agony. His trigger finger instinctively pulled and fired off a shot that ricocheted around the room.
Ironically, it struck the shooter in the side of the head, and within seconds he slumped to the floor. Tommy clambered over the lid and twisted the weapon out of the dead man’s hand. He spun around to aim at the other guy, but all he saw was the man’s feet as he sprinted up the stairs.
Tommy shook his head like a dog. “I usually have a guy for this.”
He jumped over the dead man’s left leg and took off.
People gasped, and one person shrieked.
Tommy imagined the gunman wielding his weapon to clear a path. He burst from the cave and charged after the thief. Another woman in the crowd of onlookers screamed at the sight of Tommy running with a gun.
“It’s okay,” he said, putting up a dismissive hand as he ran by. “I’m one of the good guys.”
His disclaimer did little to ease any minds. People still ducked and scattered.
Tommy didn’t have time to worry about that.
He had a thief to catch.
Running up another section of steps sent his heart rate to its max capacity as he reached the third and final tier.
Tommy gasped for breath, forcing himself to keep going. His legs felt like bags of sand, growing heavier and heavier with every step. The thief appeared to be unaffected by the stair sprint. He’d lengthened the gap to nearly twenty yards, and it wasn’t getting any better for Tommy.
The only way down from the dig site was a narrow one-lane road that wound around the mountain, circling it until arriving at the bottom, and a slightly wider road leading out of the rural village.
The thief was making his way toward one of the few cars parked nearby. If he got in, stopping him would be nearly impossible.
Tommy took a few more steps as the thief skidded to a stop at the driver’s side of a red sedan. He reached for the door handle but was halted by a loud pop. The bullet smashed into the front quarter panel. Another gunshot sent a round through the windshield.
The thief took cover behind the next vehicle in line and waited. Tommy was crouched on one knee, aiming carefully with his weapon. Now that the other guy was behind another car, he didn’t have a clear shot. And Tommy was out in the open, completely exposed.
Without warning, the thief rose quickly and fired four successive shots. Tommy did the only thing he could. He dove and rolled as the dirt erupted around him. As he tumbled sideways, he managed to extend his weapon and squeeze the trigger five times.
The shots were wildly inaccurate, most sailing off into the ether, or wherever errant bullets go. Two, however, made themselves useful.
One found its way into the front left tire
of the red sedan, rendering the getaway car useless. The second round snuck under the vehicle the thief was using for cover and struck the man in the shin.
He instantly dropped to the ground, howling in agony. The fingers on his free hand wrapped around the bloody wound. He didn’t release his weapon, though.
Tommy seized the moment. He dragged himself up and ran as hard as he could toward the car on the far end of the row. Gunfire erupted again from the thief’s weapon, but Tommy dove for cover before any of the bullets even came close.
Safe for the moment, Tommy tucked in behind the front tire of an SUV and waited a second.
“Okay. Stay on the offensive,” he whispered.
He took a deep breath and peeked around the vehicle’s front end. Instead of seeing the man writhing on the ground from the bullet wound, Tommy was shocked to see the guy hobbling desperately toward the curve in the road.
“Seriously?”
If the situation hadn’t been so dangerous, he would have thought it a hilarious sight.
Tommy crept out from behind his hiding place with his pistol held waist high. He still panted for air, but the run had been a short one and in the time he’d been hiding, his legs had mostly recovered.
“I have got to start working out more,” he said and took off after the thief once again.
In spite of the wound to his leg, the thief had picked up speed and was already nearing the bend in the road. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Tommy bearing down on him. He raised his weapon and fired a salvo at the big American.
Tommy’s reaction was almost catlike. He’d seen the guy’s intent when he turned around. The only place Tommy could take cover was a large boulder on the side of the drive. Bullets splashed into the gravel and pinged off the boulder until no more shots rang out. Tommy wasn’t as good at counting enemy rounds as his friend Sean, but he was pretty sure the thief’s gun was empty.
He popped around the corner, fired a reply of his own, and caught the thief in the middle of checking his pockets for a fresh magazine. Startled, the man took off again, running down the road.
Tommy dashed after him, like the worlds slowest 100-meter sprinter coming out of the blocks. His lack of speed didn’t matter now. His prey was injured, and that tilted the odds in Tommy’s favor.
The thief panicked as Tommy closed the gap to less than ten yards. Then he did something unexpected. He spun to the right and veered toward the cliff’s edge as if he planned to jump.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the man draw closer to the ledge. There was no time to lose. If the guy jumped, the medallion could be lost forever to the depths of the lake below.
With only two yards between Tommy and the thief, and only one yard between the thief and the precipice, Tommy pushed all his weight onto his left foot and leaped forward with arms outstretched. The thief looked back in time to see the big American flying at him. He tried to jump away, but it was too late. Tommy’s right arm struck the man’s heel. The heavy force tripped him and sent him tumbling toward the precipice.
Tommy kept his head up as he hit the gravel. The thief rolled toward the ledge only a few feet away. Without a second to lose, Tommy reached out and grabbed a handful of the thief’s jacket just as the man’s momentum carried him over the steep drop-off.
For a second, the thief’s dead weight pulled Tommy downward. Tommy kicked his toes hard into the gravel as he was dragged toward the edge. Luckily, his foot caught on a rock embedded in the ground. With his upper chest hanging over the precipice, he was faced with a six-hundred-foot drop down an 80-degree slope. Even though it wasn’t straight down, the odds of surviving such a fall were slim to none.
The thief’s good foot was planted on a narrow ledge about six feet down. Apparently, he was having second thoughts about jumping.
“Grab my arms,” Tommy said. “I’ll pull you up.”
The man’s narrow eyes were full of angry determination. He said nothing in response.
Tommy’s fingers and forearms strained to keep the man’s weight up even though the guy had a fragile foothold.
“I can’t hold you like this forever. Let me pull you up. Then we’ll talk.”
“There is nothing to talk about, American dog. Soon, the world will bow to us and the Dear Leader.”
“Dear leader? Listen, you can tell me all about it. Just take my hand, and let me pull you up.”
Tommy twisted one hand, trying to get a better grip on the inside of the man’s jacket. He grunted and felt his foot sliding off the rock that was the only thing keeping him from going over the edge as well.
The thief’s eyes blazed as he stared into Tommy’s. “For the leader,” he said in a menacing tone. He reached up with both hands to grab Tommy and pull him down, but his foot slipped off the ledge below.
Tommy’s fingers instinctively let go. For a bizarre second, the thief hung in limbo as gravity wrapped its hands around him. His eyes went wide as he suddenly felt himself being dragged downward.
For a second, Tommy watched as the man tumbled through the air until he saw the man’s head violently crack against the rocky slope. Then the thief’s somersault instantly sped up as he plummeted to the water below.
Tommy shimmied back to safe ground before the man hit the lake. There was a faint splash in the distance, signaling the thief’s fate. Tommy breathed hard for a minute. Then he propped himself up with one hand on the ground.
His eyes caught a glimpse of something on the gravel a few feet away. It was yellowish and glimmered in the sunlight peeking out from behind white fluffy clouds above. He crawled the short distance over to the medallion and picked it up, holding it to the light. Underneath the engraved words was one number: a nine.
When he spoke, it was in a whisper. “What secret are you hiding?”
2
Aachen, Germany
Dr. Jann Heimrich stared at the screen in disbelief.
He’d been working on the DNA sequencing project for more than two years. It had begun with getting the appropriate paperwork and permissions, and wading through miles of other red tape.
That was to be expected when dealing with the remains of one of the greatest kings who ever lived. Getting access to tissue and bone samples of Charlemagne was one of the most ambitious things Heimrich had ever taken on. After months of interviews and appeals, he’d finally gotten permission to examine a small portion of the king’s body.
The Aachen Cathedral had been roped off one evening, which wasn’t a huge problem since few parishioners visited after dark. Under careful supervision, Heimrich had taken the samples from the remains, stored them in the appropriate containers, and then transported them to his lab on the other side of town.
The process, the years of waiting, had all led to this, this incredible revelation.
“That can’t be right,” he said.
He adjusted the view on the screen by zooming in closer.
The adjustment didn’t change what he already knew to be correct. “That’s impossible.”
“What’s impossible, Doctor?”
The voice startled Heimrich, and he instinctively spun around to make sure it was his assistant.
“Oh, Michael. You frightened me.”
“Maybe if you weren’t working alone in the dark in an old laboratory after nightfall....”
Heimrich snickered. “Good point. What are you doing here so late? I thought you would have gone home for dinner.”
“I just had a few things to clean up before I left for the night. What are you doing?”
“Come, come. You must have a look at this.” He beckoned his Korean assistant to the computer.
Michael obliged and padded from the doorway over to the workstation. Heimrich scooted his rolling chair to the side so his assistant could get a better view.
“See?” He pointed at the screen as Michael leaned over and examined the display. “The DNA, it’s…”
“It’s not human.”
Heimrich shrugged his head to one
side. “Well, not exactly what I was going to say. It definitely is human.”
“Not like any human DNA I’ve ever seen.”
“Correct. You’re correct on that.”
Michael leaned in closer to the computer. His face was less than a foot away from it now. “Are you talking about some kind of evolutionary mutation, Doctor?”
“You know me better than that.”
It was true. Heimrich didn’t subscribe to the theory of evolution. He’d studied the evidence on both sides of the argument and chosen the side with an architect.
“What, then?” Michael asked.
“I’m not sure. Whatever this is will be a big discovery for us.” He pointed at some of the dots on the screen. “This could prove that certain people from history were more than just ordinary humans.”
“Are you saying that Charlemagne was more than a man?”
Heimrich stared at the screen. “What I’m saying is that he was no normal man. With these additions to the sequence, it’s possible he could have been smarter, maybe even stronger, than an average man.”
“That would certainly account for his military prowess. How did this happen?”
Heimrich absently rubbed the scruff on his chin as he considered the question. He’d been thinking on it long before Michael entered the room.
“Have you ever heard stories about relics that gave human beings incredible powers?”
“Of course,” Michael said, standing up straight again. He tweaked his neck to the left and right to get the kinks out. “It’s one of the reasons people are searching for the Holy Grail.”
“Right. An excellent example. There are people who believe that if they find those relics, the objects can give them some kind of power. What if the power a person receives is actually a genetic transformation, something that makes them—as you said—more than human?”
Michael raised a dubious eyebrow. “Doctor, you don’t actually think there is something out there that could cause this sort of mutation in a human being, do you?”
The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4 Page 29