by K. T. Tomb
“No, well, actually, I’m not sure; but I think that it is not, or at least may not, be.”
“That’s a pretty vague answer, Mr. Whitherby.”
“Well, I only recently uncovered another document that refers to ‘a diary,’ but it was referred to in connection with what took place in Macedonia and mentions Pamenion. This document is from the thirteen century AD, which is quite a large gap to fill in.”
“Yes, about 1500 years,” Charlotte chimed in. She had been silent up until that moment.
“Yes,” Whitherby responded.
“What did this unverified document say about the diary?” Phoe asked.
“Not much, really, it was just an item listed in the religious relics that were supposedly warehoused by the Serbian Orthodox Church when it achieved autocephalous status in 1219, which is basically the equivalent of state independence.”
“So, what you’re saying,” Phoe began, “is that if this diary of Esther does exist, it is probably in the Serbian Orthodox church? Where would that be?”
“The main headquarters, if you will, for the church is in Kosovo. Of course, with the turmoil that region has been under for centuries, the diary could have been stolen or destroyed. It might not exist at all.”
Phoe was beginning to get a headache. It had all seemed to come full circle and she was back to nothing again. “You have no way of verifying any of this, do you?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He made a motion with his hands that drew her attention to the wheelchair. “You can’t exactly call up the Serbian Orthodox Church and ask to borrow the diary of Esther.”
Chapter Eleven
Phoe was worried about Peter and the rest of the team. She hadn’t heard back from Peter since they had returned from London. She had left an enormous number of voice and text messages for him, and even harassed Simon continuously, though to no avail.
Peter, Jeremy, Kalan, Eric and Jonathan had, for all practical purposes, disappeared from the face of the earth. Given the influence of Simon Kessler and his ability to find anyone anywhere and at any time, it was particularly bewildering, even for him. How could five healthy, well-connected and intelligent young men simply vanish?
Phoe had driven herself, Charlotte and Simon crazy with questions, speculation and worry for several days. She had considered giving up on finding the Ark in order to try to figure out what had happened to the five members of her team; however, Simon had intervened in her thinking process and made her face the facts. If he couldn’t find them, she couldn’t either; but his particularly telling argument, and the one that convinced her to go to Kosovo, had been his speculation that their disappearance was likely connected to her search for the Ark of the Covenant and discovering its location was likely the only way that they would ever be found again.
The ransom argument seemed totally out in left field until Phoe, deciding that if someone had kidnapped them, the kidnappers would have had to have knowledge of what she and Charlotte were doing. Since she had talked to no one about it, including Peter, then the only way that anyone could know about it was if she or Charlotte had been overheard. The thought made her call in Kessler’s team to do a sweep of the apartment. They had found a transmitter inside the Versace bag that Charlotte had purchased the first day they were in Venice and had refused to leave behind.
Thinking of the man that had been following her in Santa Fe, she wondered if he was connected to it all; however, she couldn’t recall seeing the man again. With the tight security in Aksum, she couldn’t figure out how anyone could have gotten to them there, but the bug would have had to have been placed then or before then, for whomever it was to know that she had called Peter to assemble the rest of the team. They’d worked damned fast too. Whoever they were dealing with, if they could fool Simon Kessler, had to be very well connected.
The knowledge that she was likely being watched gave her chills as she and Charlotte rode in the taxi through the chaotic mess that was referred to as ‘traffic’ in Kosovo on their way to the Patriarchate of Peć, the monastery where the diary, if it existed, would have been kept. Phoe hoped that her passable Russian would be enough to be able to communicate with whatever monk she encountered there. Was she on a useless quest for a useless artifact and likely to be laughed out of the monastery? Maybe it was better if her Russian didn’t work at all and they all dismissed her as a silly American tourist.
The monastery did not hold even a portion of the grandeur of the Vatican City, testimony to the prominence of the one and the near obscurity of the other. She felt like the raisin in a mouse-trap; smashed around the trigger and helpless to do anything about what was nibbling at her. All she could do was hope that Kessler was right; that finding the location of the Ark would cause whoever kidnapped her team to reveal themselves. Her greatest worry, however, was that if they had pulled off a kidnapping with Peter and the gang that went beyond Simon’s reach, would they be able to do it with her and Charlotte?
They had taken some extra precautions, placing a locator device in the seam of her bra, but if whoever had Peter was as sharp as she thought, then they would find a way around that. At least it would give a tracking team somewhere to start if they were snatched up, which she thought was inevitable; thus, the creepy feeling that she was being watched and followed.
Regardless of the circumstances, she had a job to do. She passed the money for the fare to the driver, took hold of Charlotte’s hand and gave her the reassuring smile of someone who wasn’t altogether confident, before sliding out the door in front of the monastery.
Before she could take a step, her cell phone rang. The caller ID was Peter’s and she felt sudden a relief rush over her. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble, maybe all of their worries would be over with. Maybe they weren’t being followed.
“Peter!” she called into the phone. “Are you okay?”
“Peter is just fine,” a voice with a heavy Russian accent replied. “He and the rest of your team will remain that way as long as you cooperate. If you will turn about 45 degrees to your left, you will see a black car parked along the street.”
Phoe turned and saw the car. She recognized the driver instantly. It was the same man she had seen in Santa Fe. He did a finger wave, which was totally out of character for his visage.
“Very good. We recognize each other. Now, Miss Phoenix, you and I are about to become the best of friends or the worst of enemies. The first will involve your full cooperation and the latter… well, let’s just say that you’ll disappoint five young men. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she replied.
“Very good. Just to make sure that you won’t pull any tricks while you’re in the monastery, I’m going to have to ask that you send your friend, Charlotte to me before you go inside.”
Phoe looked at Charlotte who was reacting to the expression on her face and her actions, but had no idea what was being asked of Phoe. “Not on your life. Charlotte stays with me.”
“That’s exactly what I thought you’d say. If you will turn all of the way back around and look toward the other side of the street, you’ll see another black car. I think you’ll recognize the young man in that car.”
Phoe turned and looked in the direction he had described. Charlotte turned with her and immediately squealed, “That’s Eric! Thalia, what the hell is going on? He’s got a gun…”
“It’s okay, Char,” Phoe said, attempting to calm her friend, though she was far from calm herself. “We just have to do what they say and he’ll be okay.” She didn’t have to add the “I hope.”
“So, Miss Phoenix, do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal,” she replied through clenched teeth. The next few moments would be burned into her memory forever. Convincing Charlotte to go to the man in the black car was not easy, but once it was all explained to her, Charlotte complied with a tear streaked face and was soon taken into the back seat.
“Okay, Miss Phoenix, you’ve done well so far. Neither of them will be harmed unles
s you try something stupid. Understand? You will go into the monastery and obtain the information that is contained in the diaries of Esther and then you will return to the car and, along with Charlotte, you will be taken to where your friends are, okay?”
“But the diaries may not actually exist.”
“That is a risk that you must take then, no?”
“You’re a bastard!” she snapped.
“Actually, my mother and father had been married many years before I was born. Perhaps you meant to call me a son of a bitch?”
“Either one.” The anger that was rising up inside of her was beginning to have its effect. She had felt a little bit off since Charlotte was with her, like two friends that were just out on a lark rather than hunting for an archeological relic. The turn of events had baffled her at first, but now, they were pissing her off.
She pressed the button to turn off the cell phone and started toward the door of the monastery. Phoe hoped, even whispered a quiet prayer, that the diaries of Esther did exist and that she would be able to do something with the information that they contained. The realization that the lives of others were at stake, turned what had always been a favorite curiosity of hers into an urgent task rather than something that she enjoyed.
Almost the moment she entered the doors of the monastery, she was greeted by a monk. The dialect was a little bit different, but it was essentially a form of Russian.
“Is there someone who has charge over the archives and relics?” she asked. She tried to smile and be cordial in spite of her knotted stomach and tingling nerves.
“Wait here,” the monk replied.
The wait was less than five minutes, but under the circumstances, Phoe believed that she had been there for hours. The monks, who had nowhere to be and were unaware of the pressing urgency that she was under, simply did not get into a hurry.
“Miss Phoenix,” an accented voice called out to her in English as a well dressed gentleman approached her. “You probably don’t recognize me, but I recognize you. I saw you only a few days ago in Aksum. It was quite a stressful moment for you, no doubt.”
“No, I don’t recall you. I am very sorry.” She did her best to act normal. She remembered only a couple of faces from the dignitaries and clergy that had surrounded her at the Chapel of Tablets.
“It was quite exciting to see such a holy and sacred relic, don’t you think?”
She fought back the urge to tell him that it was a fake. It would serve no purpose and might cause the man to become suspicious of her intensions. “Yes, it was,” she agreed. Was she lying to a clergyman? That wasn’t exactly a great idea, was it? “It was exciting,” she added, feeling like she was agreeing to the excitement and not to the authenticity of the Ark.
“I’m assuming that you have come here to examine one of our relics, perhaps declare its authenticity? The right hand of John the Baptist, or perhaps the fragments of the Holy Cross?”
“No. Something else entirely.” There was no harm in allowing him to think that she was authenticating the diary of Esther. In a way, she was; she was authenticating its existence.
Chapter Twelve
“Just for our own personal safety,” Sergei began, grinning broadly because of the pleasant job that he was about to do, “we will have to have you and your friend strip, so that we can search your clothing for devices that might give away your location.”
“Not on your life, pervert,” she hissed through gritted teeth.
“No matter,” Sergei responded. “We really only need four of your friends in order to maintain control. Would you like to select the one who dies or should we just shoot one at random?”
“You are a sick bastard,” she replied, glaring at him and unbuttoning her blouse.
“We’ve already had that discussion. In spite of what you think of me, my employer and I hold all of the cards in this situation.” It was all he could do not to lick his lips as he watched the two friends, who upon closer inspection, were a great deal more alike than he had originally thought. Either one of them was a special treat for the eyes in bra and panties. He felt the lustful urges that he’d had earlier when he’d fantasized about Thalia Phoenix.
“Who is your employer?” Thalia asked, maintaining her bold confidence rather than shrinking away from his hungry eyes that were exploring every inch of her as she stood in her bra and thong in front of him. If the perverted bastard wanted a show, she’d give him one. But if he touched her, she’d kill him with her bare hands.
“You’ll know soon enough,” Sergei replied. “He’s on his way here to meet you.”
“Is he the pervert that wants to meet us in our underwear or is that your own little fetish?”
“Actually, it is of necessity. It seems that we were being followed, though we had taken plenty of measures to make certain that we were not. My conclusion was that one or the other of you has a tracking device on your person.”
“You could have just asked.” They could check their clothing if they wanted. They would find nothing.
“I’m not quite that foolish, Miss Phoenix,” he chuckled softly. “The underwear too, if you don’t mind.”
Phoe hesitated. She was more concerned about Charlotte than about herself where stripping down was concerned. She’d already leveled her own challenge to him in her mind. She was going to strip with as much seductive force mixed with defiance as she could possibly muster. “The bug is on me; there is no reason for her to go through this humiliation.”
“Four is as good as five, Miss Phoenix.” He wanted to see the soft, smooth skin of both of their bodies; something to fantasize about later, when he was alone. Two friends with very well formed figures were about to stand nude in front of him. Perhaps he’d have a moment to compare and contrast their assets.
With her eyes locked upon Sergei’s in complete hatred and utter defiance, Thalia did as she had planned, stripping slowly and drawing his eyes toward every inch of the firm features of her body. She saw him lick his lips softly and knew that she was engaged in her own vengeful torture.
His eyes never left her body, which was what she had planned to have happen. Maybe she could lure him in and make him do something stupid and she’d have him. The way that he was looking at her had her believing that he would soon do the very thing that she hoped he would.
She extended a toe and slid the piled clothing toward him. It went ignored while his eyes scanned her body. “I believe you wanted to have our clothing checked for transmitters?” she said after several long seconds ticked by. In the same instant, the door burst open and a well-dressed and manicured man rushed in.
“Damn it, Seryozh!” he cursed in Russian. “I did not order you to do this!” His eyes scanned the nude bodies of the two friends. He was impressed, but he instantly pushed it aside and he grasped Sergei and pulled him through the door.
“It was necessary. One of them is wearing a transmitter. We have to check their clothing.” Sergei responded as he was being dragged backward.
“You could have done it with dignity. Get them some robes…” The man’s voice was muffled behind the door as it closed. The door then opened a crack so that the man could speak to them. “I will have robes sent in to you in a moment. I apologize for your humiliation.”
They did not have to wait long. After only a few minutes, two robes were laid neatly inside the door. “Please, put these on. Someone will be in to collect your other clothing. Once it is inspected, it will be returned to you. Again. I apologize for Sergei’s behavior.”
“It’s quite alright,” Phoe replied before she realized what she had said. It wasn’t alright. None of it was alright! She had given the same flippant answer one gives when apologizing for cutting in line or stepping on someone’s toes in the crowd. The apology had been sincere and therefore, it drew the pat answer.
“Are you okay, Char?” Phoe asked. She’d been worried about Charlotte and feeling several different kinds of guilt because she had gotten her into the mess.
&nb
sp; “My pride has suffered a little, but I think I’ll live. I know what you were doing, by the way. Thanks.”
“I was hoping the pervert would make a move,” she hissed.
“He wanted to bad enough.”
With the robes on, they were able to regain at least a portion of their dignity. Only seconds after the robes were on, a young, attractive Arabian entered the room, gathered their clothing and quickly retreated.
“Now, him,” Charlotte smiled, “I’d have gladly let him undress me.”
“Charlotte Phoenix!”
The comment lightened the mood for the two of them. They were in a bad position and things might get worse, but for the moment, they had survived and they were together.
“So, if that was the man who was following you in Santa Fe, who was the other one?”
“I’ve never seen him before, but he seems a bit more refined. He must be pretty well connected if he was able to fool Simon Kessler’s network.”
“So, do you think they know about everything?”
“We have to assume that they do,” Phoe replied. “We have to also assume that they are listening to us now. They probably have a camera too. Damned perverts.”
“Do you think they’ll hurt the guys?” Charlotte asked.
“I don’t know yet, Char,” she replied. She wanted to tell her that she was watching them and assessing their strengths and weaknesses. She needed more information about Sergei’s employer and a sense of what they were after. She assumed that it was the Ark, but she didn’t want to give anything away. She wanted to give some assurance to Charlotte, but if she did, they would likely be listening to her and everything she tried to do would be ruined. In some situations, it was better to lie. “I think it is better to give them what they want.”
“What do they want?”
“I have no idea.”
After five minutes or so passed, their clothing was brought back into them and they were told to get dressed. Charlotte used the cover of the robe to put on her clothing before she removed it, but Phoe decided to work the one angle that she had already discovered was a weakness for Sergei. She tossed the robe aside and dressed slowly and casually, playing up every movement for the camera. If she could get Sergei to let his guard down, she might discover a way out for all of them.