The Last Sicarius

by Van R. Mayhall Jr.

  “Do you know where they are staying?” asked J.E.

  “Certainly,” Achmed said cheerily. “They are in a private lodging house to the northeast of the center of town. The place where they stay is quite similar to my home.”

  “May we assume then that pretty much everyone in El Guettar knows we are here staying with you?” asked J.E. guardedly.

  “Oh, yes,” said Achmed. “There are no secrets in El Guettar.”

  “Well, do you know when the other group will return to El Guettar?” asked Cloe quietly.

  “By all accounts, they are due back tonight,” said their host.

  ***

  Later in Cloe’s room, as they discussed what they had learned, there was a collective sense of concern.

  “This group of so-called treasure hunters could be the one commanded by the Kolektor’s successor,” observed Cloe.

  “I agree,” said the monsignor. “If true, and if our presence in El Guettar is common knowledge, this leader—or Karik, as he is probably known in Armenian—will soon learn we are here.”

  “Without our Swiss Guard, it could be very unhealthy for us if that happens,” said J.E. as he sorted and packed the provisions and equipment.

  “Quite so,” added the monsignor. “He may have been involved in the bombing in New Orleans. He has no regard for collateral damage or casualties. I still believe it is likely he was responsible for the sabotage of our airplane and the possible deaths of some of our colleagues. Although his people must have observed us at Lyon, for some reason they decided we were no longer needed to lead them to the cave.”

  “Kais said they had a map,” said Cloe, sitting up straight in her chair. “I wonder where it came from and if the map could be the reason the leader, or Karik as you say, figured he no longer needed us.”

  “Very possible,” responded the monsignor. “If the Karik believed such a map were genuine, he could only have obtained it from the people who truly know the location of the cave—the Sicarii or someone working with them.”

  “Yes, the Karik would have known of the Sicarii from Hakeldama. He has had his minions searching for them. Oh my God,” cried Cloe. “Those poor people.”

  “They took care of themselves pretty well at Hakeldama,” pointed out J.E.

  “Certainly, but they had the element of surprise, and they outnumbered the Kolektor’s men at least two to one,” said the monsignor. “Here, the Karik only needed one of them. He must have hunted them until he was able to isolate one and get what he wanted.”

  The room grew quiet as everyone contemplated the fate of the poor, wretched individual who must have fallen into the Karik’s clutches with information he wanted.

  After a while, Cloe resumed the conversation. “So if they had a map to take them to the cave, why are they returning to town for supplies after three days of searching?”

  “There’s only one answer to that,” asserted the monsignor. “And it suggests the need for immediate action on our part.”

  “Yes,” said Cloe. “There’s something wrong with the map, and they have not found the cave. They are still looking.”

  “And when they get here, they will find us,” said J.E.

  “Not if I can help it,” said Cloe with determination. “Get all our gear loaded. We are leaving for the mountains tonight!”

  CHAPTER 44

  Miguel had flown in directly from Tunis earlier and was now awaiting Tomás at the bar at the Hotel Jugurtha Palace in Gafsa, Tunisia. The Palace was the best of the few hotels in Gafsa and was self-rated as a five-star hotel. Still, it was comfortable and clean and had a bar along with five restaurants serving different foods in various atmospheres. Not bad, all in all, he thought.

  He looked up from his scotch, served neat, and saw Tomás striding toward him. “Sorry about the dust, sand, and grime, boss,” Tomás said. “We’ve been in the mountains scouting the opposition led by a man known as the Karik. Our spies in El Guettar reported to us that he is referred to by his men as the leader, or the Karik in their language, and that he and his men had gone into the mountains near the old fort. I have come straight to you to report.”

  Miguel waved this away and said, “Tell me what you have learned.”

  “We have had several positions overlooking the various campsites of Karik and his men and have been able to follow pretty much all their movements,” replied Tomás. “From what we can see, there has been a lot of activity but no results.”

  “Hmmm,” mused Miguel.

  “Karik’s men have moved their camp several times, but all with the same result,” Tomás continued. “They have found nothing. Earlier, we could see the Karik, pacing back and forth, cursing his men, presumably, for their incompetence.”

  “What are they doing now?” asked Miguel.

  “Late this afternoon, the Karik’s expedition began to pack up to leave except for a handful of men they have left behind.”

  “Do you think they are giving up?” asked Miguel.

  “Probably not,” replied Tomás. “If they were finished, I don’t believe Karik would have left his spies in the mountains. I think they went into the mountains thinking it would be a rather quick trip to find the cave. After three days, our observations tell us they are out of water and other supplies. I may be wrong, but I believe they have gone to El Guettar to resupply.”

  “Your thinking is sound,” stated Miguel. “Why would the Karik leave men behind?”

  “Possibly, they’re guarding the camp,” suggested Tomás. “It does tell us the Karik plans to return.”

  “True, but what’s to guard? They haven’t found anything,” said Miguel. “No, it’s something else or someone else they’re watching for.”

  “Well, we have stayed out of El Guettar, and my men in the mountains were very careful. I do not believe the Karik has any idea we are here,” said Tomás.

  “If not us, who?” asked Miguel, fully knowing the answer.

  “Boss, it’s the Lejeune group … Dr. Lejeune and her two colleagues. Our intel from Tunis tells us it’s just the three of them now. Dr. Lejeune, her son, and the monsignor are virtually unprotected.”

  “Where are they?” asked Miguel.

  “They are in El Guettar, according to our local informants, who are very well paid for their information and their silence. Dr. Lejeune’s group has purchased the supplies necessary to go into the mountains, probably in the morning.”

  “Can you say if the Karik knows Dr. Lejeune is in El Guettar?” asked Miguel.

  “My spies tell me that he will learn of this when he returns to his lodge tonight. It seems El Guettar is porous with its secrets,” responded Tomás.

  “Something has happened to the Karik’s plans. His supposed map may be faulty. He has men waiting for someone in the mountains,” observed Michael. “He is expecting Dr. Lejeune, and he may now be counting on her leading him to the cave.”

  “You may be right, boss, but then it will be bad for them, very bad. The Karik is one ruthless patron,” responded Tomás. “But really, of what concern is that to us? We will have ample opportunity to find the best time for payback to Karik while he watches the Lejeune group. This is falling into place very nicely.”

  “Yes, so it seems,” whispered Miguel.

  CHAPTER 45

  J.E. drove and Cloe road shotgun as the Land Rover made its way up the mountain’s winding highway filled with snake-like S curves and switchbacks. Soon what Cloe had thought of as a two-lane highway of sorts degenerated into a sometimes one-lane affair with blind curves. Often the edge of the road surface dropped off steeply into some unseen abyss. As they ascended, the paved track became less asphalt and more rock. Progress slowed to ten to fifteen miles an hour at best. Visibility was limited by the darkness, and the night gusts of wind off the mountain hammered the vehicle.

  “J.E., I think we should find a place to stop until morning,” said Cloe above the howl of the mountain drafts.

  J.E. looked down at his watch. “Mom, it’s late
, and we’ve been rolling steadily for about four hours,” he responded, assessing their situation. “But you’re right. If we can find a safe place to stop, we would be better off.”

  Cloe looked above and saw a place in the next switchback where there was an observation area.

  “There, J.E.,” she said, pointing. “The road crosses back and has created a point where we can stop out of harm’s way.”

  J.E. eased the Land Rover into the observation area and cut the engine. He momentarily slumped over the steering wheel in exhaustion. The monsignor, who had been napping in the backseat as if they were on a Sunday drive, snapped awake and alert. “What … where are we?” he asked, on guard.

  “We are about three-quarters of the way up the mountain on the way to the fort,” responded J.E. “This is as far as we go tonight. I’m beat, and it would be too dangerous in the darkness even if I was 100 percent.”

  Although J.E. had brought a tent and other camping gear, it was decided that spending the night in the solid vehicle made sense. J.E. deployed an alcohol stove in the lee of the truck and soon had a pot of coffee brewing.

  Cloe and the monsignor joined J.E. around the stove and sipped the strong black coffee thankfully. They nibbled on cold lamb and dates packed by Achmed’s wife.

  “I see El Guettar down and to our left,” said Cloe, looking at the beautiful, lit valley. “But what are those lights to the right?”

  “That’s Gafsa,” responded the monsignor.

  Cloe nodded and continued to gaze down on the valley, dimly lit with lights from homes and possibly a few businesses still open at this time of night. As she watched, the lights began to blink out one by one. Long ago, Thib might have looked down on this very sight after his forces knocked out the Italian positions that guarded the pass from above. Of course, there would have been a blackout in effect and far fewer lights sixty years ago, but still, he could have seen something on the valley floor in the darkness. Cloe felt close to her long-lost father, knowing they shared this sight and maybe this feeling.

  She thought about what Thib might have felt, having just won a great victory but also having lost his ward, Bobby Morrow, to Italian mortar fire. Still, he had discovered the cave and the jar that Bobby had said might be more important than the whole mission. She could hardly imagine the emotional roller coaster he might have felt.

  Cloe knew this was one of those rare, hallowed moments. Her blood had done something heroic here, and they were pursuing that legacy. “Destiny” was a word worn out by overuse, but she felt a sense that this was her fate. Whatever good or bad happened from here on, she would honor Thib’s legacy and uncover the cave. She would find and protect its secrets.

  ***

  Dawn crept over the ridge behind their camp. When Cloe blinked, her eyes felt a little like sandpaper from lack of sleep. They had talked into the night about the upcoming day’s efforts. After their plans had been set, Cloe, J.E., and the monsignor had slept as best they could in the Land Rover, with each taking two-hour watches.

  Cloe rolled out of the passenger seat, which she had set back in a full reclining position. She lit the cookstove and made preparations for coffee and breakfast. As the water percolated through the dark, roughly ground coffee beans, Cloe thought again of her father. She could almost picture him squatting here, maybe drinking his coffee out of his mess kit. Soon, her son and the monsignor would awake and join her. But right now she owned this space and this time.

  “Morning, Mom,” said J.E. softly a few minutes later.

  “Hello, son,” she said in reply.

  “Good morning, all,” said the monsignor as he stretched his muscles, sore from the cramped backseat.

  The sun had risen a bit but had not cleared the promontory above them, which cast a wide and deep shadow on the valley below. El Guettar was bathed in early sunlight, but Gafsa was hidden within the deep shade of the mountain. Cloe almost gasped at the beauty of the landscape.

  As they gathered around the stove and sipped coffee, J.E. said, “We probably have another hour or two to get to the old Roman fort. From there, we look for the marabout of Speratus that Kais told us about.”

  Cloe looked at them both and said, “Okay, that’s it … let’s go find Thib’s cave.”

  CHAPTER 46

  It was late morning by the time Cloe stood on the highest point of the Roman fort and gazed around toward the pass and then down the backside of the mountain. The valley below was even more beautiful from this vantage point than it had been at breakfast. She had no doubt that Thib had walked this space.

  J.E. joined her and began to scan the area opposite the pass with his high-powered binoculars. He swept back and forth as Cloe watched. After a bit, he stopped scanning and seemed to focus on a point.

  “Mom, there’s something white out there, but I can’t make it out,” said J.E. “You can’t see it without binoculars, and then it’s only a speck.”

  Cloe took the glasses and studied the landscape. Sure enough there was something white among the sandy gray terrain.

  “J.E.,” she said, “that’s our objective.” She handed the field glasses to the monsignor, who, after studying the area, concurred.

  The terrain was too rough even for the Land Rover, so they made up backpacks and headed toward the white speck. Their surroundings looked a lot like a gray moonscape but with numerous boulders and stone slabs at all angles, requiring them to constantly switch back and retrace their steps. A light dust hung in the air, clogging their nostrils and making breathing difficult.

  By midafternoon, sweating and close to exhaustion under the heavy packs, they neared the marabout. Upon viewing the structure more closely, Cloe was reminded of the aboveground mausoleums in New Orleans cemeteries. Because parts of the city were below sea level, many families had built aboveground structures for the repose of their dead. About two hundred yards from the marabout, Cloe said, “Let’s rest a bit so we can be a little fresher when we get there.”

  Lying in the shade of a large rock with his head on his pack, J.E. asked, “What do you think we’ll find?”

  “I don’t know,” said the monsignor. “What I do know is that this may not be the end of our search but only another beginning. Speratus may be merely a figurative portal of some sort to the cave. This may be only the source of another clue. We must hope and pray time has not obliterated whatever Speratus was meant to tell us.”

  Just another clue? wondered Cloe. She sincerely hoped they were nearing the cave. The biblical references they were following, the clues, were not inexhaustible. They gathered themselves, and after J.E. reconnoitered for anyone who might be on their trail, they pushed toward the marabout. As they neared it, they could see that it was a stone structure more round than square or rectangular. A low rock wall enclosed a small courtyard, which was centered around a temple-like round structure. It looked a little like a tiny, oddly shaped church. The small building in the middle was whitewashed by the eons in the dry desert.

  Entering the courtyard, Cloe saw an entry to the tomb. “Here, this is the way in,” she said, laying down her pack. There was an ancient doorframe around the portal. On the massive old beam over the door was written a single word in stick-like figures, in ancient Greek.

  “What’s it say, Mom?” queried J.E.

  Cloe studied the word carefully and announced, “It says ‘Speratus.’”

  CHAPTER 47

  The Karik sat in the front passenger seat of the rented van, gazing out the window at the bleak surroundings. They had been on the road from El Guettar into the mountains for several hours. He had dozed a bit, but now that he was awake, his thoughts had turned to his early days at university in Eastern Europe, where he had first met the Kolektor. They had become friends almost immediately, and he had eventually been drawn into the Kolektor’s larcenous schemes. The Karik once again wondered what his life might have been had he and the Kolektor never met. He had lived in the man’s shadow all these years, eventually becoming little more than his
trusted servant.

  Now he was the leader. He was on the verge of discoveries of which the Kolektor had only dreamed, even if getting here had entailed life-and-death decisions and orders. He began to sweat slightly as he considered the lives sacrificed in his pursuit of the cave.

  Shaken from his ruminations by the vibration of the satellite phone in his inside pocket, he put his ear to the instrument and listened.

  “Sir, they are here,” said the servant to the Karik. “We were watching near the old fort this morning when the woman and two men arrived in their Land Rover. They studied the area of the old fort, but they were truly focused on the rear approach to it. After searching the back of the mountainside with binoculars for some time, they became excited about something they saw.”

  “Yes, yes,” said the Karik impatiently.

  “Following some discussion among themselves, they abandoned the vehicle and prepared packs for an overland trek,” responded the servant. “Since that time, we have carefully tracked them hiking off to the northwest. It seems they have now come to some sort of edifice in the distance.”

  “Excellent,” replied the Karik, shaking off his memories. “Maintain your observations, but do not approach them. We should be there in an hour or so.”

  “Yes, sir, we will keep them under observation. But I fear they may try to enter the structure, in which case we may lose them,” said the servant.

  “Do not let them see you,” ordered the Karik. “Whatever they do and wherever they go, their time on this earth is very limited. Once they have led me to what I want, they will rest in these mountains for all eternity.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Could this at long last be the actual tomb of Speratus the martyr? A deep sense of history enveloped Cloe as she studied the mausoleum. She considered the passion of Speratus and his young pupils when faced with the choice of repudiation of their new faith or death. Amazing!