by Peter Vegas
I trusted that my reference to “making time” would lead you to my hiding place once you found the chamber.
I have left the journal belonging to the captain of sub 518 that Elio found in the submarine. There is also a final note from the captain that he wrote here in the chamber, just before he died.
Last, there is piece of parchment belonging to the Templar Knight whose remains you will have already discovered. They are his orders—the bottom half. Very interesting.
When you read them, things will become clearer and, despite our separation, I know you will continue our work.
X always marks the spot.
Phillip
“Your father left these clues here for your mother,” Mary said.
Sam nodded. “But they both got caught. Let’s go back to the stairs to check this out,” Sam said, glancing into the water behind Mary again.
THE JOURNAL OF CAPTAIN ROBERT SINCLAIR
June 17, 1942
And so it has begun: the grand deception planned by Jason Verulam and myself. While he remained on the Panehesy with the fake Ark, I have departed in the dead of night with the precious cargo. Our journey will take us over seven and a half thousand miles through perilous waters. For the sake of our mission, we must avoid both German and Allied forces. We have sacrificed all but the essential equipment in favor of speed and estimate the crossing will take approximately nineteen days. I have a crew of only five, and although they are sworn Keepers of the Light, I have not shared all the details of our mission.
Our journey will be arduous, of that there is no doubt, but should I find myself weakening, I need only remind myself of what is at stake.
Day 10
I have been remiss in my commitment to keeping a record of our progress. Commanding a severely undermanned submarine is a most time-consuming endeavor. We successfully navigated our way out of the Nile without detection and are now under full power for Central America. We are making a top speed of nearly eighteen miles an hour during the day but must surface at night to recharge our batteries. This reduces our speed, but we are still making good time.
Day 15
Tempers are fraying as long shifts, due to the lack of manpower, take their toll. At night, we surface to recharge the batteries, but there is always the risk of detection. I have been studying the crocodile design engraved on the Ark. This is the key to finding the entrance to the chamber beneath the pyramid in Lamanai, the resting place for this precious chest. I have re-created the work on the hull in the control room so I may dedicate every waking moment to its study.
Day 20
We are in position off the coast of Belize near the town of Chetumal. We will remain submerged until nightfall and then plot a course for the mouth of the New River. This final stage of our journey will be the most difficult. The river is dangerously shallow and far from ideal for a craft of our type. I was assured by Jason Verulam that the charts I was supplied with will get us to our final destination, but there is no room for error. To know that the slightest miscalculation could ruin the entire mission is causing me considerable stress. The other men are sleeping, but alas, I have found rest impossible. Not until our final mission is complete will I truly be able to rest.
Day 21
We have made it. 518 has reached her final resting place. The small tributary was exactly where Jason marked it on the map, and it has been carefully excavated to fit our craft. She is hidden well. Tomorrow I will leave the others to guard our cargo and travel to the Temple of the Mask to locate the entrance to the chamber. The name is fitting. This temple wears a mask to conceal its true purpose—as a pyramid in the worldwide network.
Day 22
The journey to Lamanai from our hidden dock is a trek through a watery hell. Swamp and jungle so thick as to be almost impenetrable. The going was far harder than I anticipated, and traveling the route with our treasure will take all our strength. The good news is I have found the chamber. The key to unlocking the crocodile map was, as Jason and I suspected, the Templar code. I found the location on the map, but when I first arrived, my spirits sank. There was no sign of an entrance, even after I have cut my way through the vines growing over the riverbank. It took some time for me to discover the secret: a giant boulder, protruding from the bank. It was so large I dismissed it immediately. And that, I understand now, was the designer’s intention. When I finally came back to the boulder, I pushed it and was amazed at how easily it swung open. So finely balanced that I could push it with one finger! Truly a marvel of ancient engineering, and proof yet again of the skills of those who came long before us.
The chamber itself was equally impressive, but the most incredible discovery was that someone else has been there before us. One of the original Keepers of the Light—a Templar Knight. It would appear he came to Lamanai on an identical mission many, many years ago. We know the Templars discovered an Ark in Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem and took it away. Perhaps the plan was to place it here in Lamanai. He was not successful. If he had been, the Keepers of the Light would have known, and our mission would have taken our Ark to another site.
This brother met with a violent end before he could complete his task. The cause of his demise was tragically obvious.
There is no sign of his Ark. This pyramid still waits for a heart, but he has prepared the way. The sarcophagus is in the bottom of the pool, and the lid has been raised on a system of ropes and pulleys. All is ready, and we will gladly make use of the brave knight’s efforts.
Day 23
I am incredibly excited because today we will fulfill our sacred mission. Last night I returned to our craft and informed the men I had located the chamber. They are all fully aware of the mission now and to a man will see it through. Of that, I have no doubt. We leave after breakfast. I foresee that the transportation of the Ark will take the whole of the day and will require all of us. We will secure the sub and spend the night in the chamber. To think, after all our planning, the years of careful preparation by myself, Jason, and other Keepers of the Light, today we complete our task. I will leave my journal here for safekeeping, but I am filled with an overwhelming feeling of pride when I think that the next entry I make here will be to record our part in helping to safeguard the future of mankind and our planet.
A DAY OF TRIUMPH AND DEATH.
We have made it to the chamber with our sacred cargo. Thanks to the work of another Keeper of the Light from years gone by, we secured it in its home. But then disaster. A crocodile entered the pool by way of a tunnel, and it attacked two of our men. It happened so fast, with such violence, no one was ready. We were aware of the danger. I had two men with guns keeping watch, but we became distracted, overawed by the importance of our task. The beasts seemed to wait till the moment we lowered the stone lid of the sarcophagus down and secured our Ark as the new sacred heart of the pyramid.
In the flickering light of the torches we had lit around the pool, dark shapes appeared. Three men were in the water, and with all the hallmarks of a coordinated attack, two were hit at once. I shall never forget the look of horror, then pain, as unseen monsters took hold of their legs. Screams were stifled as the men were pulled under. The third man made it out, but the ugly red stain that spread through the pool left us in no doubt as to the fate of our other two companions.
We are in shock. Our party has been savagely cut from five to three. Only the knowledge that we have completed our mission brings us comfort. It is too late to leave, otherwise we would surely flee this hellhole. We are running out of oil and rags for our flaming torches. Soon we will have only our flashlights. It is the body of the long-dead knight and his attacker that fuel our fears of another visit from the guardians of this chamber. Our guns seem of little consequence when faced with beasts the size of the ones we have seen. During a closer inspection of the chamber, I found a piece of screwed-up parchment near the knight. They are his orders, or part of them. It would seem our ancient brother was aware of the guardians of Lamanai and had his own for
m of protection against them. Protection that I can only assume failed. Why am I writing this? I find it soothes the mind to record my thoughts like this. I will stop now. The three of us will keep watch till morning, then leave this place forever.
It is not to be.
I was woken by a bloodcurdling scream. Someone was meant to be on watch. They had fallen asleep and let the torch go out. In the darkness, I fumbled for the flashlight. When I turned it on, the beam caught the pale white face of Tom Metson, being dragged into the water.
A shot rang out to my left, the noise so loud my head felt like it had split open. I swung the light toward the sound and caught a glimpse of flailing arms, and I saw David being dragged away.
I reached for my gun, but as I did a blinding pain raced up my body. Swinging the flashlight down to my leg, I saw another crocodile, its mouth closed around my foot. I kicked wildly, then aimed my gun and fired, almost at my leg. The bullet seemed to skip off the animal’s head. In the light, its eyes locked on to mine, and for a moment i almost saw a look of understanding. Then it opened its mouth and released my foot. It scuttled back into the darkness, and I heard it drop into the water.
The attack lasted seconds, and now here I lie, alone and dying. Of that, there is no doubt.
My foot is destroyed. A messy pulp of bone and shoe leather. The blood pumping from it oozes down to the pool like a red river. I have tried to stem the bleeding by tying a rope around my leg, but it is pointless.
The blood will feed the hunger of the guardians, and I know now I will go the same way as my other companions, and our brother the knight before us. There is sickening irony that we, the Keepers of the Light, should fall victim to the guardians of this chamber.
All is quiet. The water has settled. The only sound is the scratching of my pen on this paper. I can feel myself weakening. My only regret is I did not get word to Jason Verulam to let him know we have been successful.
My end is near. I can hear the water stirring. I suspect the guardians have fed and returned. I read the knight’s orders again, and I am reminded that I am part of a great undertaking that has been going on for thousands of years. This brings me some comfort in my final moments.
I hope one day people will come to know of the sacrifices we made.
Capt. Robert Sinclair
Sam looked up from Captain Sinclair’s notes. “You have to read this.”
“Sam, here,” Mary said, holding the piece of parchment. “Ramos had it wrong. He only found the first half of the knight’s orders. If he had seen this, he would have known that the talk of treasure and the other two locations wasn’t about gold. It was about the Arks.”
Sam looked at the pieces of paper written by different men across hundreds of years but all tied to the same incredible story.
“You know what this means, don’t you, Sam?” Mary said, looking down into the water. “Your parents knew the Ark from the submarine had been installed here, but they let themselves get handed over to the people who came here to remove it. They did that to prevent 2012. They knew if they gave up the Ark they could trigger the destruction of the world.”
Sam looked at the knight’s orders again. “The dagger. That has some kind of map that leads to another Ark. The world didn’t end in 2012. That means there must be three Arks in three pyramids.”
“You’re right,” said Mary. “Remember, there used to be Arks in pyramids all over the world. Perhaps more than three survived. If the Knight’s Ark is still hidden on the island, we could use it to bargain for your parents’ freedom.”
“But even if we can get out of here,” Sam said, “we’ll never track Felix down.”
Mary smiled. “We might if he still has that chest. On one of our rest stops in the tunnel, I slipped my phone into it. We can track him using your phone.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.”
Mary pulled an it was nothing face.
“No, really,” Sam insisted. “I was just thinking about giving up, but you never do.”
“Okay, that’s enough for my ego for now,” Mary said, shuffling uncomfortably. “First we need to get out of here.”
The chamber fell silent as they turned their attention to the pool, but Sam wanted to ride the new wave of enthusiasm he was feeling. “Well,” he said, turning back to the knight’s bones, “we better hope that crocodile repellent has a seven-hundred-year use-by date on it.”
A few minutes later, the confidence had completely drained from Sam. He looked away from Mary’s anxious face as he lowered himself into the water, and desperately wished he hadn’t taken off the armored wet suit at Xibalba.
“Do you think it will work rubbed on your body and not on the pendant?” Mary asked.
Sam grimaced. He needed both hands to lower himself into the pool; otherwise, he would have been holding his nose. He had rubbed the stinky oil into his neck and face. He suspected that the stuff worked purely by creating such a bad smell the crocodiles were grossed out by it.
His feet touched the bottom of the pool and he felt bones around him. He knew now they were the five men of sub 518, and he silently asked for their forgiveness.
“Be careful, Sam.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replied, thinking that the surest way to be careful would be to get out, but he took a step away from the edge, knowing there was no alternative. He had chosen to enter the pool on the opposite side to the tunnel. His thinking was that if the oil didn’t work, he might have time to make a run for it. That idea went out the window the moment he got in the water and realized he would never be able to outrace a crocodile in its own hunting ground.
“Careful, Sam,” Mary said again, then checked herself. “Sorry, I just . . .”
“It’s okay,” Sam said as he took another step outward. “It’s nice to hear your voice. Takes my mind off things.”
Mary cried out. The surface of the pool looked calm to Sam, but Mary, up on the edge behind him, had a much better view.
“Get out!” she screamed.
Then Sam saw it and knew it was too late. The black shape got bigger as it swam right at him.
“Sam!” Mary called again, but as she watched, he sank beneath the water.
The crocodile was blurry and out of focus as it swam toward Sam. He sat there underwater, watching the tail sweep gracefully from side to side. Then its jaws opened as it prepared to attack.
Above him, Sam could hear Mary screaming, the noise muffled by the water, as if someone had thrown a blanket over her head. There hadn’t been time to explain his plan; submerging had only occurred to him at the last second. He had rubbed the oil on his neck and face. Most of that skin was above the water. The crocodile couldn’t smell it.
That was the theory.
But he was wrong.
And now there was no time to escape, no time to even move. In the last few seconds, Sam shut his eyes and stuck out his hands, like a kid fending off a school bully. He tensed and waited for the contact. Would he feel the teeth as they bit into him? What would Mary do?
He realized she had stopped screaming. He could still make out muffled noises, but it was one word over and over: Sam. She was calling out to him. And then he realized he was still sitting there underwater with his eyes shut. He opened them and saw nothing but the dull blue blur of the pool.
“It worked,” Mary called out as he rose out of the water. “That was incredible. You were so brave, Sam, the way you let it come right at you.”
It occurred to Sam there had been no other way to handle the situation, but he was too freaked out to dissuade Mary from her point of view. Besides, the crocodile might have gone, but he still had the swim through the tunnel to face.
Sam knew if he waited around he would chicken out or find a way to delay it, so he strode on across the pool without looking back.
There was no sign of the crocodile. Had it retreated into the tunnel? What would it do when it saw Sam enter? Again, they were problems he had no control over, so he pushed through the water, closing th
e last few feet to the tunnel entrance. Mary had run around the edge of the pool and lit the space between him and the wall with the portable light.
“Okay, I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he said as calmly as he could. “I’ll call Jerry, the policeman. He’ll help us.”
There was nothing muffled about Mary’s scream this time. Sam couldn’t see her face behind the powerful beam from the portable light, but looking into the water he spotted what had upset her.
The crocodile came out of the tunnel like a torpedo. Sam had only just spotted it before the creature smashed into him, knocking him back off his feet. Caught totally by surprise, he went under with his mouth open. The choking sensation triggered a burst of panic that wiped the crocodile from his mind. Then its head swung around and hit him again.
As he waved his hands to find his balance, Sam made contact with the crocodile. The beast swung away, and Sam stumbled back and found his feet. His head broke the surface, and he sucked in air. Wiping the water from his face, he tried to focus on the scaly creature as it surfaced and turned toward him.
The jaws began to open.
Sam was facing the middle of the pool now, but he sensed he was near the edge. He stumbled back as the crocodile made a large, sweeping turn.
“Hurry,” Mary shouted.
Sam kept backing toward the edge, keeping his eyes locked on the crocodile. Then his foot caught on a bone, and he slipped again. Losing his balance, he staggered backward, but his fall was broken when his head hit the edge of the pool with a sickening thud.
“Give me your hand,” Mary screeched.
Sam steadied himself with one arm and reached out with the other. His head throbbed; he was seeing stars and, through the sparkly haze, the crocodile gliding toward him.
He felt Mary grab him then lose her grip.
The crocodile opened its mouth, revealing perfectly straight rows of ivory white teeth.
Mary screamed again, but Sam didn’t move. He looked into the beast’s mouth and spotted the big brown eyes behind the mask at the back of the throat.