Selcuk itself was nestled in the hills, a picturesque farming town enveloped by historical structures.
“That’s the apartment above that store there,” Riley said as they drove straight past the store.
“I thought we were going there?” Abigail asked.
“We have to check out the area first,” Riley told her. Abigail felt somewhat foolish. Of course—that made sense.
Presently, Ellis drove back and parked down the road a little way.
Thatcher knocked on the store door. There was no response and Abigail wondered if the widow was elsewhere. Finally, a woman opened the door a crack and said, “I’m closed.”
The woman’s eyes were puffy and red. Abigail’s heart went out to her.
“We’re here from the government,” Thatcher said, flashing his badge. “And this is Dr. Abigail Spencer. She was a long-term, good friend of Professor Jason Hobbs, who I believe was friends with your husband.”
The woman at once turned her attention to Abigail. “You knew Professor Hobbs?” she asked urgently.
Abigail nodded. “Yes, we were good friends. I knew him for years.”
The woman opened the door rapidly. “Come inside, all of you.”
The woman, who introduced herself as Nehir, led them through the little jewelry shop into a back room and then up a flight of stairs into an apartment. She gestured that they should sit on two large couches.
Abigail cast a glance around the apartment. The walls were painted an unusual shade of pink. The heavy curtains were burgundy and hung over lace, effectively blocking most of the light. The living room smelled spicy, of cinnamon and perhaps cumin. Abigail had been cold, but now she removed her jacket.
“Coffee?”
Everyone said they would like coffee. Abigail wondered whether they really did want coffee or whether it was just something they did to put the person they were questioning at ease. At least Abigail knew that she genuinely did want coffee.
The woman served strong black coffee. To Abigail, it tasted like Turkish coffee. Nehir turned to Abigail. “Have you heard from Professor Hobbs?”
Abigail shot a look at Riley. “I’m afraid Hobbs was murdered the other night in England,” Riley told her.
Nehir’s hand flew to her mouth. “He’s dead?”
Riley nodded. “I know this is terribly upsetting for you, but we think it was connected with the murder of your husband.”
“But he thought he was going to meet Professor Hobbs,” she said.
Riley shook his head. “Professor Hobbs was already dead at that point.”
Nehir dabbed at her eyes. “My husband didn’t trust people easily,” she said. “Do you have any idea who murdered my husband? And Professor Hobbs?”
“There are some covert international organizations that search for ancient treasures or even ancient artifacts,” Riley said.
Nehir nodded. “Yes, Eymen often said that museums were robbed and the items would end up in the homes of wealthy Americans. Who murdered my husband, do you know?”
“We don’t know, but we do know they were after the copper scroll,” Riley said.
The woman looked shocked. Abigail noticed she hadn’t poured herself any coffee and her hands were trembling in her lap. “You know about the copper scroll?”
Riley set down his coffee cup. “Yes, we want to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. That’s why Dr. Spencer is with us. She can verify the scroll. It would be a terrible thing if the scroll ended up in the wrong hands,” Riley added.
Nehir appeared to be hesitating. She turned to Abigail. “Did Professor Hobbs tell you about the scroll?”
Abigail had to think fast. She somehow had to gain this woman’s trust. “I’m about to present a paper at the Conference of Iron Age Anatolia. Jason had published a paper on an ostracon that mentioned Croesus’s treasure. Jason knew I was giving a paper at the conference and was trying to help me get information.”
Nehir chewed her lip. A startled look crossed her face and Abigail wondered if she was about to run from the room.
“It looks like one of these terrorist organizations had access to the email correspondence between your husband and Professor Hobbs,” Ellis said. “That’s no doubt how they managed to lure your husband to meet them at Ephesus with the copper scroll. To clarify, you say he thought he was meeting Professor Hobbs?”
The woman nodded again. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Why don’t you google Dr. Spencer here? You can see she’s a legitimate academic and she was a friend of Jason Hobbs.”
Abigail suddenly had an idea. “Just a moment!” She pulled her own phone out of her jeans pocket. She pulled up some photos of herself with Jason at a recent conference and handed them to Nehir. “Here I am with Jason, and if you google me, you’ll see lots of photos online.”
Nehir took the phone from Abigail and stared at the screen for what seemed an age. Finally, she gave Abigail a searching look and then said, “So as the scroll leads to treasure, you don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands?”
“Yes,” Riley said firmly. “That would be dangerous.”
“And what if you had the copper scroll and got the treasure, what would your government do with that? I don’t trust any governments. Who do you work for again?”
Thatcher leaned forward and showed her his badge.
“I really don’t know if this is fake or not,” she said, “but I do believe this woman is who she says she is.” She rubbed her eyes and then pulled a tissue out of her pocket and sniffled into it. “I don’t know if I’m doing the wrong thing, but my husband is dead.” Her shoulders shook and it was a while before she spoke again. When she did, she added, “My husband took a fake copper scroll to the meeting.”
Annabel gasped. The men showed no reaction.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded vigorously. “He guarded the whereabouts of that scroll all his life. He took the wrong scroll to the meeting.”
“How long will it take them to discover it’s a fake?” Ellis asked Riley.
“What was on the fake copper scroll?” Abigail asked. “And what language was it?”
Nehir shrugged one shoulder. “Eymen said it was inventory and it was in ancient Greek.”
“Inventory of treasure? Or of something else?”
“Perishable goods.”
Abigail tapped herself on the head. “Then anyone who can read ancient Greek will know it’s not the genuine scroll.”
The woman wrung her hands. “That’s what I’ve been afraid of. I thought they’d come back here and try to make me tell them where it is.”
“And no one has spoken to you yet?” Riley asked her.
She shook her head. “Only the police. Although it was strange that two sets of police came and I had to repeat the same thing to the second officer.”
“I’m going to have you extracted for your own safety,” Riley said. “It won’t be safe for you to return home until after we find the copper scroll. You’re going to be in danger until then. We might find it in a day; we might find it in a week or it might be longer. Are you prepared for that?”
“There’s nobody I can turn to now and there’s nowhere I can go,” she said, trembling once more.
Riley nodded. “You’ll be safe. Now tell me where the scroll is.”
“I don’t have a clue,” she said. “My husband hid it.”
Thatcher leaned forward. “In this apartment? In the jewelry store?”
She waved her right hand through the air. “I have no idea, but he left a clue.”
“What is it?” Ellis was clearly doing his best to remain patient.
“I’ll get it for you,” she said. She crossed to the window and opened the curtains before leaving the room. Riley jumped up and went with her. She returned with an old, leather-bound Bible, which she set down on the coffee table. From it, she pulled out a piece of notepaper. She handed it to Riley.
He read it and then handed it to Abigail.
10
SELCUK
“They’ve been in there a long time,” the blonde man said. “The wife is probably telling them where the real scroll is.”
The leader gave a nod of affirmation. “I’m sure she is.” He would soon know—the Intel would come through. He had eyes on the group and no one else but him knew this. He knew their every move. Aloud he said, “We’ll follow them and we need to make sure we stay out of sight. They’ll lead us to the copper scroll.”
“But won’t they know we’re going to do that?”
“They won’t know for certain unless they see us, will they?” He shot the man a hard look.
The man flinched and looked away. The leader was still seething about Eymen Bulut leading them astray. Who would have thought he would have the foresight to swap the copper scroll? And how many of those things were there? The leader had been given to understand copper scrolls were uncommon in ancient times. His eye twitched as he fought to quell the anger that so often consumed him.
“There.” The blonde man nudged him.
He looked through the scope. There was the academic they were dragging along with them and there were the RHTF agents, Riley, Thatcher, and Ellis. He scowled.
He was so lost in thought it took him a moment to realize the man was still speaking.
“Why don’t we just abduct the woman and force her to take us to the scroll? We could take out the other agents.”
The leader shook his head in disgust. He would have to keep an eye on this agent. He could prove to be trouble. “Those aren’t my orders. You are to follow my orders. Understand?”
This time the man met his gaze, but he nodded.
“If our orders change, then you’ll be the first to know.”
“Why don’t we force the widow to tell us what she’s no doubt telling them?”
A muscle ticked in the leader’s jaw. “Because we want them to lead us to the scroll. If they hear anything has happened to the widow, they will take extra precautions, and we don’t want that.”
The man turned to look through the scope. “They’re standing up. They must be leaving. Shouldn’t we hurry?”
The leader shook his head. “I’ll know soon enough where they’re going.”
“What? You have a tracking device on them?”
The leader smirked. “Something like that.”
“What if there’s a back way out of there?” one of the men asked him.
“And that’s exactly why we have someone watching the back entrance onto the street,” the leader said. These men irritated him. Still, Vortex paid him highly. And if Vortex wanted these men to tag along with him, so be it. So long as they didn’t get in his way.
The blonde man looked up. “They’re coming out.”
“Let’s hurry,” the leader said.
They stashed their gear back in their suitcases and walked down the stairs from the room they had rented to keep an eye on Bulut’s store and apartment. There were two hotels on that road, both offering a view of the store. One of the rooms with a view over the street had been vacant, but even if it hadn’t been vacant, the leader would have found a way to make it vacant.
The man slid into the street, and then the leader himself took the wheel.
“I’m the driver,” one of the men protested.
“Not for now,” the leader said as another man slid into the back seat. “Did you get that tracking device on the car?” the leader asked him.
“Yes.”
“I’ll stay far enough back so they don’t see us.”
“What’s the plan?” the man asked. “Did you see anything?”
The leader shrugged one musclebound shoulder. “The curtains were shut most of the time. For now, we’ll follow them.”
“Maybe they have the scroll in their possession,” the man continued. “Should we ambush them?”
The leader took one hand off the wheel to rub his forehead. He would have to complain about these men. Surely Vortex could have found better men than these. Pack of idiots!
“No, because we don’t know if they have the scroll for sure,” he said with forced patience. “And no one shoots unless on my orders. Understood?”
The men all answered in the affirmative, and quickly.
“I’ll know soon enough if they have the scroll. But for now, we’ll follow them at a distance.”
The leader gripped the wheel with both hands. It did look as though the RHTF agents were heading back to the airport. If they had the scroll, then they would go to the airport. The only other reason they would go to the airport was that Eymen had hidden the scroll far away. But why would he do such a thing? Surely there were plenty of good hiding places around Selcuk to hide the scroll. It didn’t make sense.
No, it looked to him as though they did have the scroll in their possession. And then he would have to arrange an accident for the group.
First, he would wait for confirmation.
11
SELCUK
“What is it?” Thatcher asked as soon as they were in the car.
They had gone out the back door, through some alleys, and found their way to the car. Anyone watching the store entrance would not know they’d left. They had waited until a man and a woman had materialized out of nowhere and escorted the widow out the back door.
The agents had arrived soon after Riley made a call. Abigail realized they had been nearby the whole time. She noticed that Ellis and Thatcher both looked irritated, no doubt as they too had been unaware of the other agents’ presence.
Before Abigail could speak, Riley said to Ellis, “Head back to Izmir while we figure this out.” He nodded to Abigail to proceed.
“It’s a quote, two verses in Revelation Chapter Two,” Abigail said. “The note quoted an English translation:
‘And to the angel of the church in Pergamon write: ‘The words of him who has the sharp two-edged sword.
I know where you live, where Satan’s throne is.’”
“It doesn’t mean a thing!” Ellis snapped.
Abigail took a deep breath and pushed on. “And there’s more. He wrote ‘Revelation 3:18’ under it, but he didn’t quote that verse.”
Riley turned to Abigail and lifted one eyebrow. “Abigail, is Satan’s throne a reference to a specific location?”
“Satan’s throne is likely a reference to the Altar of Zeus. The podium is still in Pergamon today, but the altar is in the Pergamon Museum.”
“So we head to Pergamon?” Thatcher asked.
Abigail shook her head. “The Pergamon Museum is in Berlin.”
Ellis grunted. “Could it mean anything else?”
Abigail thought for a moment. “Pergamon was the cult center of Asclepius, the Greek god of healing. The Greeks described him as a mighty miracle worker. Still, a reference to Asclepius would be too obscure in the context. The consensus among Biblical scholars is that the throne of Satan is a reference to the Altar of Zeus, so it would make sense that Bulut followed this line of reasoning.”
“Surely Bulut didn’t hide the scroll in a museum in Berlin,” Ellis continued in more reasonable tones, “and it seems just as unlikely that he dug a hole under the podium in Pergamon and buried it there. The note may be a clue, but it’s not an obvious clue. So do we go to Pergamon or Berlin?”
“We can’t go to Berlin,” Abigail said. “The Pergamon Exhibit has been closed for years and won’t be opened for a few more years yet.”
“And it doesn’t make sense to go to Pergamon,” Riley agreed, “at least not yet. Abigail, tell us everything you know about the Altar of Zeus.”
Why is it so hard? Abigail thought. The clue should surely be more obvious than this. Aloud she said, “We’re forgetting the other clue: Revelation 13:18.”
Riley was already searching on his phone before Abigail finished talking. He read the verse aloud.
“‘This calls for wisdom: let the one who has understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man, and his
number is 666.’”
He turned to Abigail. “Does that make sense?”
Abigail nodded slowly. “There are some nuances in the original Greek, but all that aside, I think this clue refers to a person. The two Scriptures have to be linked.”
Ellis made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “A Satanist? You want us to look for a Satanist?”
“Of course not!” Abigail said. “I’m just saying that the second clue suggests it’s a person.”
Thatcher piped up. “Or maybe the clue is the number 666? An address in Pergamon?”
“Pergamon is now Pergamum. The Pergamon of the Book of Revelation is no longer standing,” Abigail told him. “It’s all ancient ruins now. Possibly the clue is to a street number, 666, but that would be too obvious.”
Ellis snorted, drawing Riley’s ire.
“Drop the attitude, Ellis!” he said firmly. “Can you do any better? If you have a theory, maybe you should speak up now.”
Abigail shot Riley a grateful look. It was hard to concentrate under circumstances such as these and Ellis’s continual attitude certainly did not help matters. She considered for a moment before speaking. “Maybe there are two clues in Revelation Chapter Two: the sword and the Altar of Zeus. Riley, can I have that iPad?”
“I don’t know if this is it, but it certainly fits,” she said after several minutes. “There’s a knife shop in Pergamon Street, Selcuk. The name of the knife shop is Pergamon Blades.”
No one spoke for a moment. Abigail thought she had better say something else. “What if we are meant to contact a person rather than find a buried clue or read an inscription or the like? Nehir said the copper scroll had been in the family for centuries. It stands to reason that more than one person would be entrusted to protect it.”
Thatcher craned his neck in the passenger seat and turned to look at Abigail. “You mean like a secret society? A secret society entrusted with keeping the copper scroll safe?”
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