“Of course the field looked different in 1389. The bushes and trees were not the same then.”
The archeologist flipped to his battlefield screen. They watched the drone, as represented by an icon, move across the screen. Valmir typed in a set of GPS coordinates.
“This is the location of the dig where I found the Maltese cross.”
The drone hovered over a spot on the ground. Its camera showed some markers outlining the perimeter of what was once the dig.
“Now I will change to the screen showing the armies.”
The first picture showed the drone over a point to the right and to the rear of Prince Lazar’s position.
“I think I know what we will see when I change,” Valmir said. He clicked the keys.
The drone now was lined up over the center of Prince Lazar’s segment of the forces, where they had been driven back and to the right, directly into the Hospitallers.
“Awesome,” Chad said. “You found the cross near where Lazar ended up. So it’s possible the Hospitallers could have retrieved his sword.”
“Possible,” Valmir echoed.
“Show us more?” Harry asked.
“Certainly,” Valmir answered.
He took them on a tour around the battlefield, flying closer and zooming in to several of his digging sites from the last two decades.
“This is a great tool,” Chad said. He watched Valmir closely, learning how to pilot the drone. I have to get one of these, he told himself.
“Where do you go now?” Valmir asked, as he brought the drone back to them.
“Back to Macedonia?” Harry asked Chad.
Valmir interjected, “Would you like to go to Niš to see that site? On the way, I can share a dig with you where I was working before this request. It is a series of caves in the Goljak Mountains, near the border. I think we have found some evidence of humans from forty-five thousand years ago.”
“I would love to see that,” Chad said. “It will give us more time together to share ideas on the quest. What will it do to our plans, Harry?”
Harry consulted his iPad.
“We can drive to Niš this afternoon, stopping at the caves. Visit the site in Niš tomorrow and then either arrange for our plane to pick us up in Niš or drive to Belgrade. It’s a bit over two hours by car. Depends on where you want to go after Niš.”
Chad had been thinking of their next step. “I want to visit the Hospitallers, wherever they are.”
-----
Sandy closed her eyes eliminating just one of her inundated senses. She stilled smelled the mixture of cleaning chemicals, body odors, and the overriding medicinal aromas of a hospital. She isolated the creaking wheelchairs, the clanging of metal, loudspeaker announcements, and the hurried conversations of people passing. She tried to further separate the conversations of the doctors, patients, nurses, and families.
“Don’t care for hospitals?” asked Dickie, sitting next to her in the waiting room and observing her closed eyes.
“Au contraire. They’re smashing. In fact, I quite fancy them. I find them peaceful.”
“This is peaceful?” he asked. “This is chaos.”
“Others don’t notice you here. If you’re not needed to help someone, or in need of help, you can remain alone. It’s like you can disappear in the chaos. If you close your eyes, it’s as if there is a television program on that you can follow without looking. Try it.”
“I’d rather not, thank you,” Dickie answered imitating that proper English accent, the opposite of his normal street dialect.
A nurse approached them. “Detectives? I understand you are inquiring about Mr. Best?”
Sandy and Dickie stood up.
“We have some questions for Mr. Best,” Sandy explained. “Can we see him?”
“That will not be possible at this time,” she answered.
Dickie interrupted her in protest, “He’s part of an investigation…”
She held up her hand. “You can’t for two reasons. One is that he has a broken jaw and won’t talk for a bit. The second is he is heavily sedated for the pain and for the concussion.”
“Can you tell us about his injuries?” Sandy asked.
The nurse answered, “Certainly. In addition to the broken jaw, he sustained several blows to the side of his head. His right side. He has three broken ribs. And, of course his finger.”
“His finger?” Sandy asked.
“You didn’t know?” the nurse asked. “I thought you were part of the investigative team?”
“No,” Dickie explained. “It’s a separate matter. His finger?”
“Half of the little finger of his left hand was cut off,” she reported. “And, then, the remaining finger was wrapped poorly.”
Chapter 19
Chad noticed Valmir’s step was lighter and his enthusiasm was infectious as he flitted from spot to spot at the cave sight. Valmir introduced all of his help, the fellow doctored archeologists, the graduate students, and the volunteer undergraduates. He listened carefully to each of the workers tell of their progress.
“You love it here?” Chad asked.
“Absolutely,” Valmir smiled.
“How did you get involved in this quest for Prince Lazar artifacts?” Chad queried. Harry helped with a translation.
“I have a mentor and professor. He is Serbian. When I was a student, he helped break through barriers to allow an Albanian a fair chance to participate in digs in the Balkan area. I worked for him.”
Chad thought about Doc, Dr. Henry Clark, his own mentor, and the many students of different nationalities that he had helped.
Valmir continued, “The Minister of Economics requested my mentor to take this quest. He cannot physically do the work. He asked me to do it. I couldn’t refuse.”
Chad refrained from asking what bothered Valmir. Was it a quest for a Serbian historic artifact, and he being Muslim?
Valmir showed them a computerized map of the cave complex.
“It is a work in progress. We add to it daily,” he told them.
“These caves are a maze,” Harry commented. “When were they discovered?”
“They were known to be here for a long, long time. However they are so off the main roads it was not a popular destination.”
“That is for sure,” Harry agreed.
Valmir explained the process. “We cannot get GPS signals in the caves. However, we have a new tool that we wheel through the caves. It measures distance and angles of turn. We can upload from the computer chip to a program that maps it. Come. Let me show you a few caves, and,” he said excitedly, “our most significant find.”
He led them to a cave with many workers.
“We found what appears to be a burial area. It is significant for a couple reasons,” Valmir said looking at Chad.
Chad figured it out quickly. “Because they stayed.”
Valmir explained for Harry’s benefit of the significance of finding evidence that nomadic Homo sapiens stayed in one area. He also explained the other finds in the Balkan countries that established a migratory path.
Chad was much more interested than Harry.
“Hey,” Harry said looking at his watch. “Could you two dirt grubbers catch up another time? We’re burning daylight here.”
“Okay,” Chad agreed. Seriously, Valmir. Congratulations. I can see why you are excited.”
“Thank you. I’ve one more thing to show you here at the caves.”
Valmir led them to a distant cave, another ten-minute walk from the main site.
“Just over this rise there is a view to the border of Serbia and Kosovo. We are that close.”
His silence prompted Chad to comment. “You say that with a melancholy tone, Valmir.”
“We are two cultures in one country divided by so much hate and animosity. I understand it. I lived through expulsion from Kosovo. I feel the resentment. I fight those feelings in myself. I wish it were different. I don’t know how to fix it.”
Chad
had no response.
“Okay, gentlemen,” Harry said. “We should get going. We need to cross the border and drive to Niš. It’s an hour and a half.”
They had left their car in Prishtina and rode with Valmir to his site, much to the consternation of the rental car company. Harry arranged for the private plane to pick them up in Niš at noon tomorrow.
-----
“What’s that over there?” Harry asked as they drove toward the border. On the right side of the road was a fenced, barbed wire, and busy compound. They saw helicopters, planes, and many troop transports. A half - mile paved road led from the main highway through a large cleared field. Even from this distance they could see the red berets and white helmets at a guardhouse.
“That’s one of several NATO bases. This one covers the eastern and southeastern Kosovo border. Those are borders with Serbia.”
“It’s close to the border crossing?” Chad asked
“Eight kilometers” Valmir answered. “How far is that in miles?”
“Five.”
“Just one kilometer from the crossing is a base camp about half that size for Kosovo Security forces. They are not as heavily armed as NATO. The security force is not an army. That is a point of contention with Serbia, since they consider Kosovo part of Serbia. The Kosovo force acts more as a police force.”
“What will the border be like?” Chad asked.
Harry answered. “Interesting. First on this side, Kosovo authorities will stamp an exit for us. But, when we get to the Serbian side, they don’t consider us as entering Serbia at that point. They feel we entered Serbia when we entered Kosovo from Macedonia. So, they don’t recognize the Kosovar entry stamp. They could hold us up because we came into Serbia from Macedonia and do not have a Serbian entry stamp.”
“Will that happen?” Chad asked.
“You mean you followed all that?” Valmir asked.
“No. But I will pretend that I did,” Chad laughed.
“We’ll not have a problem because we have our papers,” Harry replied. “How about you, Valmir?”
“As a citizen of the Republic of Kosovo, I have no problem getting in and out. I also have permission papers from the Minister that prompt the Serbian guards on the other side to just pass me through.”
“Is there a Serbian base on the other side?” Chad asked.
“Not close. About an hour away, near Niš. Why?” Valmir asked.
“I just have this uneasy feeling of being in between two equally uneasy peoples, and they have guns. It’s been peaceful at the borders for some time now?”
“Absolutely. It’s been at least, what would you say Harry, maybe thirty days now?”
“Sounds about right,” Harry agreed.
“All right you guys, enough of that.” Chad scolded .
Chapter 20
“You should order something, Sandy,” Dickie sighed.
“No thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“Not hungry? Of course not. You’ve eaten half of mine.”
“I shared my salad with you,” she protested.
“But, I didn’t want any salad,” Dickie replied exasperated.
He grabbed the last skewer as she reached for it.
“You even picked this place, Sandy. Why was that? Oh yeah. Your boyfriend is in that area of the world on a secret mission. So you wanted Mediterranean food.”
“Something like that,” Sandy commented, munching on an olive that she successfully stole.
“I called the hospital, again,” Sandy said. “Best is awake. We can see him tomorrow, but he won’t be able to talk yet.”
“What time do you want to go?”
“Let’s go at nine. The first rounds will be over, we’ll have a bit more privacy. What else can we do to find Baywater?”
“We’ll keep rousting his known associates. We’ll check on the alerts on the two identities,” Dickie said between bites.
“Do you think he stayed in the country?”
“Yes. He didn’t get a new passport.”
“Of course he could travel in the UK on his new ID and then use his Baywater passport to quickly travel to another country. Where would he go?”
“We’ve checked on all his relations that we know of in the UK. Tomorrow, let’s check any records on their relations. Maybe he has a second cousin somewhere to stay with.”
“First thing tomorrow,” Sandy agreed.
“How about we check the morgues for any Joe Bloggs?” Dickie suggested.
“How about we check the dessert list,” Sandy countered.
-----
Fourteen hundred miles away, Chad, Harry, and Valmir passed several plates of food back and forth. Harry and Valmir had made the selections.
“This is barbecue?” Chad asked.
“Yes. Serbian barbeque,” Valmir said. “They, I mean we, are serious about it here. It’s not the American taste, I’m sure, though I hear there are several versions of barbecue there.”
“It’s good,” Chad said pulling the pork off another skewer.
“My favorite of these is the Karađorđeva šnicla,” Valmir said.
“I like it too,” Chad said. He took a piece of the thin rolled up steak filled with cream cheese. “I think the outside of these are perfect.”
Harry pointed at the plate with his fork. “That is the secret. The egg batter and frying temperature have to be just right.”
The other plates were a Serbian tomato salad, fried carp slices, cooked cabbage, and small stuffed peppers.
“Save room for a dessert plate,” Valmir advised.
“I might need a run in between courses,” Chad joked, but he worried. He had not made his daily run in four days.
Chad thought Valmir looked relaxed for the first time today. He knew he had to ruin that mood and ask the questions on his mind. He would prefer to wait and establish a closer relationship first. But he couldn’t wait. There was a timetable. For the sake of the quest and for Harry and himself, he needed to know.
Chad breathed in deeply then asked, “Valmir, how bad and how real are the threats?”
Valmir heard, but he stalled for time and asked a visibly surprised Harry to translate.
“Why do you think there are threats?” Valmir asked.
Chad spoke quietly and calmly. “You have made comments about we and they, Serbs and Albanians or Kosovars. I have seen fear in your eyes. I have heard anger, and I heard sadness. You are on a quest to retrieve artifacts that support the Serbian nationalistic feelings. You probably kept the quest quiet, but I know how many people and officials are required to establish an excavation operation. Many will know of the quest. Muslims will want you to give it up. Christians may resent that you, a Kosovar of Albanian heritage, and a Muslim, are looking for a Serbian treasure. They also would want you off the quest. Which side threatened you?”
“Both,” Valmir answered.
“How bad?” Chad asked.
“Very bad. I have moved my family to relatives in Albania. I told my wife not to speak of the quest.”
Harry asked, “The threats are bad from both Serbs and Kosovars?”
“Equally bad. Threats to me. My family. And, not just from the Kosovar Muslims. Notes have come from Bosnian Muslims as well. Also threats from Kosovar Serbs and Serbian Serbs.”
“Why do you continue?” Chad asked. He guessed the reason even though he had known Valmir for just a day.
“I made a commitment. To my benefactor. And, to Minister Brajkovic. It may seem strange to support a Serbian, but I feel he is a great hope for our future. He not only preaches acceptance of Kosovo, but his actions support his position. He is both a Catholic and Orthodox Christian. He hired me, a Muslim for this, because I am the best one for the job. Just think of the barriers I can cross. A Muslim finding artifacts of a battle between our faiths. Can we not both own that battle? The remains of the Ottoman leader are buried and memorialized on the battlefield already, as you saw. Can you envision an equal monument there built around these ar
tifacts?”
Harry said, “I agree. There is a monument now with the words of Prince Lazar, but it is seven kilometers south of the battlefield and just a small area. We need to embrace our past together.”
Chad added this information to the collection of facts he had assembled so far, facts that led to his insights and analysis of Valmir. He involuntarily looked around the restaurant. Anyone here could be out to stop Valmir’s quest. Correction. My quest. He needed to worry about Serbs. He needed to worry about Muslims. Muslims from anywhere. Kosovo. Albania. Bosnia. And, there was a third force that Valmir did not know about. The person or group that wrote the letter that the Minister showed to him and Harry. If someone had the artifacts, they would be watching for anyone trying to find them.
Chad looked at Harry. The look in his eyes showed he was thinking the same thing.
“Valmir, how soon can you shut down your involvement?” Chad asked.
“I was planning to continue looking for any sites near Niš that may have been a stopping point for Prince Lazar.”
“How many have you looked at already?”
“Six. None are usable buildings. They are now just stone foundations, empty fields, or parts of a city built over many times.”
“There is a thought that someone has the artifacts already. We are trying to find who that might be. Have you seen any evidence of someone recently in the same areas that you have been looking?”
“None.”
“Then perhaps give it a day or two and shut it down,” Chad advised.
Valmir thought this over. “Vidovdan is only a week away. I committed to the quest. I will continue until then.”
“Be careful, Valmir,” Chad said.
“I will. And, tomorrow I will show you the various sites I have looked at here. We operate out of a rented office in a shopping plaza just outside of Niš.”
“Great,” Harry said. “Time for that dessert tray.”
Half way through the baklava, tortes, Serbian profiteroles, and the quiet that had settled in on their table, Valmir laid down his fork.
“Have you thought about what the world would be like if we did not have separate languages? Language is a key ingredient for nationalism. The tower of Babel. It’s not in the Qur’an but it is in Muslim stories and literature. It’s in the Christian and Jewish religions, part of the Old Testament. Have you ever wondered if our world would be so divided and filled with ethnic hatred if that punishment of imposing many languages had not been made?”
The Grey Falcon Page 9