Cursed Days

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Cursed Days Page 32

by J. M. LeDuc


  ****

  He found Chloe and Lucille in the infirmary. He smiled at his mom and went straight to his wife’s side. “How’s my girl?”

  Chloe hugged him as if she would never let him go. “You mean girls, don’t you?” she answered.

  She breathed in his scent. It was the first time she felt relaxed in days. She could feel Brent’s smile against her neck. “Yeah, I meant girls,” he whispered.

  “We’re as good as new,” she whispered back, kissing his scruffy face.

  “Ehem,” Nurse Collins interrupted. “Colonel, your wife and child are fine, but the shock of the past couple of days has taken its toll. She will need a lot of bed rest through the remainder of her pregnancy.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Susan,” Lucille said. “She will do exactly what her mother tells her to do.” Looking at Chloe and narrowing her eyes into a slit, like only a mother can, she said, “Isn’t that right, my dear.”

  Chloe knew when she’d been beaten and smiled. “Yes, Mom, that’s right.”

  CHAPTER 71

  At o-six hundred, the squad and directorate met in the conference room. Before the meeting officially began, Brent asked Seven what happened to Red.

  “I’ll let my wife answer that one.”

  Maddie expression broke into a sly smile. “I thought it only proper that he be placed where he will never be found.” She waited to see if anyone would catch on. It didn’t take Brent more than a few seconds of thought.

  Eyes wide, he shook his head in admiration. “You sent him to Dreamland?”

  “The redesigned Dreamland,” she said. “All solitary confinement and no human contact, just white noise to drive you insane.”

  “There, he will be debriefed until he cracks,” Seven said. He is still holding valuable information on the Brotherhood and Omar. We need that intel if we are going to take the Brotherhood down.”

  Brent looked and saw everyone nod their approval. “Well done, but that’s for another day. We still have an ark to find.” He could tell Bishop Jessup was chomping at the bit. “What do you have for us, Bishop?”

  Bishop Jessup stood up and addressed the room. “I took the liberty of having Joan put the etchings from the Holy of Holies and the translations on her computer. With Madame Director’s permission, I’d like to put them on the screen.”

  “Please, I’ve been anxious to see what you discovered.”

  Joan lowered the screen and dimmed the lights. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the etchings.

  “Whoever took the time to create this was divinely inspired.”

  “What makes you say that, padre?” Seven asked.

  “Because there were two translations,” the Bishop answered. “I believe that was the work of the Lord.” Clicking the remote, he went to the next slide. “The translation I made on our return home reads as follows:

  What was East is West; What was dry is wet.

  What sat in the center now sits to the right.

  What was for God’s chosen, still remains so.

  What was, is. What is, will always be.

  What has divided Yahweh’s children has not changed.

  What was hidden is revealed.

  What has been revealed must stay hidden.

  “The words you see are translated from right to left. As if written in Hebrew.” Before anyone could speak he went to the next slide. “Last night I spent half the night trying to figure out what it means. While doing so, I decided to see what would happen if I wrote it from left to right. This is the result:

  Knowledge is human, but Wisdom divine.

  Mistakes made in the garden cannot be repeated.

  Head my warning. What once was, still is.

  The covenant made with Noah will guide you.

  The Keeper must take what is given and return it.”

  Bishop Jessup concentrated on the screen. “This translation is a warning. It tells the Ambassador what he must do with the ark once it’s found.”

  “So, we still need to figure out the first in order to use the second,” Seven said.

  Brent stared at the screen and nodded.

  Seven looked to his best friend and commanding officer. “You’ve been too quiet, Colonel. What do you know that we don’t?”

  Brent remained silent while he continued to stare at the screen. “Go back to the first translation,” he finally said. “Last night, I found an old letter that my grandfather left me before he died. He said I would know when to open it.” Brent pulled the envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans.

  “I opened it last night. In it, he spoke of his father, my great-grandfather and a trip he took to Africa. Specifically, to Aksum, Ethiopia and the church of St. Mary’s of Zion. It didn’t say why he went, but we can all derive the reason.”

  “Your great-grandfather was in possession of the Ark of the Covenant?” Bishop Jessup exclaimed.

  Seven spit in a cup. “There he goes stating the obvious again.”

  The Bishop’s face reddened as he pointed at Seven.

  Brent stopped him before he spoke. “Easy, children,” he said. He stood and paced. “That answers the first line. ‘What was East is West’. He brought the ark back to Palm Cove.”

  “But, what about the rest of that line?” the Bishop asked.

  “Let’s skip that and the next line for the time being and go to the third,” Brent answered.

  “‘What was for God’s chosen, still remains so’,” he read. “The Ark, its meaning and its contents have the same meaning for us today that they had for the Israelites centuries ago.” He looked about the room. “Does everyone agree with that?”

  Everyone remained silent and nodded their acknowledgment.

  “Let’s go on,” Brent said. “If that is fact, do you want to take a crack at the next line, Bishop?”

  Bishop Jessup stood and read. “‘What was, is. What is, will always be’.” He repeated the line to himself. “I think it’s talking about God’s wisdom and the wisdom that can be found in the ark’s contents.”

  “I’ll accept that,” Brent said. “You’re on a roll. Keep going.”

  “‘What has divided Yahweh’s children has not changed’,” he read. Again he closed his eyes and repeated the line over again. Thinking out loud, he continued. “We know that the Ark of the Covenant has special meaning to most of the major religions. That being so, no matter what we find in the ark is not going to change anything, it won’t reunite God’s people.”

  Brent smiled. Bishop Jessup was in the zone.

  “Keep going, padre. If we have something to add, we’ll let you know.”

  Bishop Jessup read the last line. “‘What was hidden is revealed. What has been revealed must stay hidden’.” He pondered for a moment before saying. “I believe this is three-fold in its meaning. The first relates to the ark itself. It has remained hidden for centuries. Now it is revealed, but must again become hidden.” He looked up at Brent for reassurance.

  The colonel nodded his agreement.

  “The second meaning corresponds to its contents,” the Bishop stated. “The same reasoning applies.” Not waiting for a response he pressed on. “The third meaning is conjecture and may be the most prolific. Everyone knows there are etchings in the gold leaf covering the first two arks. It’s my theory that this is true of the gold that covers the Ark of the Covenant. I think that this is the last piece of the puzzle.”

  Clicking the remote, another slide appeared. It was the gold leaf from the first two arks. “We know that they fit together perfectly along their jagged edge,” Bishop Jessup said. “We also know that when brought together, the etchings morphed and their translation changed.” Using a laser pointer, he traced the outer edge of the two pieces. “I think that the leaf found on the Ark of the Covenant will fit along the edge of both of the ones that came
before it. Its meaning which has remained hidden for millennia will reveal what God wants us to do with the arks. It will also tell us a story that I can’t begin to fathom. That is the true destiny of the Ark of the Covenant.”

  Brent had a look of knowing in his expression.

  “But you knew all of this, didn’t you?” the Bishop asked.

  Colonel Venturi smiled. “I had an idea.”

  “Then why have me go through the motions?”

  Brent pointed to the letter. “My grandfather’s letter had more to tell us. He continued to say that the words that we found in Solomon’s temple needed to be translated by the one who came before me. . . you. It also said that without your acknowledgment, we would not find the ark.”

  “Is there more to the letter that you’re not saying?” the Bishop asked.

  Picking up the letter. “My great-grandfather was explicit in that the ark would be that last piece of the puzzle to the ark trilogy. “He wrote,

  ‘Only the clergy with the ‘gift’ will be able to make sense of it. The words written on the three will tell you exactly what to do with the arks. Follow them to the tee. Add nothing to the words and take nothing away from them. If you do, God’s wrath will rain down upon you and generations to come.’”

  The Bishop paced the room. “So we know what we must do with the ark, but we are no closer to finding it.”

  Brent tapped the letter. “Its last lines tell me all I need to know in order to locate the true ark.”

  “Well?”

  “My grandfather ends the letter by saying,

  ‘The point of this letter is the same as it was when you were a child. Follow the point to its destination. There you will find the ark.’

  “My great-grandfather emphasized the following words in his last days:

  ‘Right will lead to the light. Left will lead to death.’”

  He peered about the room. He could tell everyone was still in the dark as to its meaning. “Go back to the part we didn’t read.” Brent said.

  What was dry is wet.

  What sat in the center now sits to the right.

  “We need to continue this meeting at the Bed and Breakfast at Fisherman’s Pointe.” Folding the letter, Brent returned it to the envelope. “We will use the tunnels and reconvene there at o-eight hundred hours.”

  “Wait,” the Bishop exclaimed. “You can’t leave us hanging, what does it tell you?”

  Brent pointed to the screen. “It tells us that the Ark of the Covenant is wet and that it now sits on the right. We just need to figure out right and left,” Brent said as he walked towards the door.

  Bishop Jessup shook his head. “Thanks for clarifying,” he said with sarcasm. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

  Seven slapped him on the back. “What do you like, padre. . . besides food?” He smirked, spit and followed Brent out the door.

  CHAPTER 72

  The entire team sat in the dining room of the Inn drinking coffee when Brent and Chloe arrived.

  “I don’t mean to undermine your authority, but do you think it’s wise for Chloe to be here?” Lucille asked.

  “She almost gave her life for Ark of the Covenant. I thought it only right she be here for its discovery.” As if reading his mother’s thoughts, Brent said, “Besides, she wouldn’t listen to reason when I told her to stay in the infirmary.” His eyes met Chloe’s. “She promised to stay on the couch.”

  Reluctantly, Chloe huffed and gave her word.

  “I still don’t understand why we are here,” Bishop Jessup said.

  “The point referred to in the letter is the same ‘Pointe’ of my childhood. As a young boy, I spent endless days in the waters around Fisherman’s Pointe. That is where the final quest begins and ends.”

  Mumblings could be heard around the table. Brent raised his voice above the rest and said, “The Bishop and I will suit up and make our aquatic entry at the end of the Pointe.”

  “You think that’s wise, Colonel?”

  Addressing Seven, he said, “Wise or not, it’s the only way. From what we know, the ark can only be handled by a priest. Unless you know of another, the padre goes aquatic.” Brent eyed the room. “Joan, with Maddie’s permission, I need you and the director to stay behind to monitor what takes place by way of surveillance. There are underwater cameras in the tunnels connected to the Pointe. Jefferson, you and Fitz will suit up and be on alert by the pond in the back of the Inn. If either Joan or Maddie spot trouble, they will issue the command for the two of you to drop in from that end.”

  Seven packed his lip and spit before speaking. “We don’t know what you’ll find down below. You may need another set of hands. I would like permission to join you.”

  The Colonel nodded. “You read my mind. Let’s suit up. The three of us drop in twenty.”

  CHAPTER 73

  Twenty minutes later the three of them had donned their wet suits and made their way to the jagged wet edge at the end of the Pointe. Everyone else watched from their vantage point. The tide was in and the water was breaking hard over the rocks. A cold salty mist stung their eyes as they tried to find a solid footing on the slippery coral encrusted slope.

  “We’ll be using SEAL mandated buoyancy compensators and only a secondary air supply. You have each been equipped with three secondary air tanks. The passage is too narrow for normal scuba tanks. If you need to use your third canister, you are ordered to make your way out of the tunnel and wait topside. Is this understood?”

  “What about you?” Bishop Jessup asked.

  “You have your orders. Are they understood?”

  They both nodded with reluctance.

  “I want a verbal answer to the order.”

  They both acquiesced and verbalized their affirmative.

  “You never answered my question,” the Bishop said.

  Brent didn’t speak. He just stared out at the water. “I didn’t go through all that we did only to make it back here and act stupid.” He lowered his full face mask and pulled the tab on his first air supply. His team, the men who followed him around the world and back, just stared. They knew they had all the answer they would get. Each followed the colonel’s lead, pulled the tab on their air supply allowing the air to flow when they inhaled through the built in mouth piece.

  “I’ll drop first, the Bishop will follow and Seven will cover our back end. Let’s move out.”

  Bishop Jessup rolled his eyes at the colonel’s final words. He donned his mask, placed the air supply in his mouth and waited for the colonel’s next move. Without speaking, Colonel Venturi squatted at the tip of the Pointe. He watched and counted the waves as they came in. He did this for three sets of waves, wanting to give his team as much time under the water before the next set pounded them back into the rocks. He continued to look out at the water.

  “I’ll drop first, make the initial surveillance and let you know when to drop in.” As the last wave came in, he put his arm up and counted down from five on his fingers. Brent placed the cylinder in his mouth and stepped into the cold water at the end of the jetty. The others followed as ordered.

  At thirty feet, Brent saw the opening to the tunnel, where the grate once was. Using an underwater communication device, he spoke to the two members of his team. “The edges of the tunnel are sharp, be careful on entry. Pull yourself along using your arms only. There is a large amount of silt inside the opening and kicking will severely limit our visibility. Go ahead and drop in.”

  The colonel waited for them at the opening. The current was so strong their bodies were horizontal to the ocean floor. Each grabbed hold of what was left of the metal grate. Facing his team he gave final instructions. “Twenty feet in, the tunnel will seem to come to an abrupt end. The opening will be below you. Descend slowly. Pressurize every fifteen feet. We have approximately sixty feet below us before the tunnel opens into
an underwater grotto. I’ll wait for you at the bottom.”

  The colonel received a thumbs up acknowledgment, grabbed the jagged edge of the grate and pulled his body inside. He used his arms to make his way along the narrow tunnel, trying not to disturb the sand and debris.

  “Stay bunched up,” he communicated.

  On the ocean bottom, Seven and the Bishop were surprised at how open the grotto was. Brent motioned them to turn on their underwater flashlights. Even through their masks, he could see amazement in their expressions. The beauty of the grotto was more than they could have imagined.

  “You never mentioned what this place was like,” Seven said.

  “I couldn’t find the words for what you are witnessing.”

  “If I weren’t seeing it, I wouldn’t have believed you,” the Bishop said looking at his surroundings.

  The visual of God’s majesty spoke for itself. Colors so vivid, sea-life so abundant, it took their breath away. Bishop Jessup inhaled hard and fast on his regulator. Brent told him to slow his breathing and to take shallow breaths.

  “We need to conserve our air, padre. Try to breath as normal as possible or you’ll never make it to the end of this mission.” Brent pointed east. “About fifty yards in, the grotto is going to become very narrow and the terrain will look very different.” He looked back at the boys and then down at his fins. “Remember, no kicking.”

  Seven and the Bishop followed, trying to take in as much of the splendor as possible. The colors, so bright soon faded and then became just muted shades of grey. As the visuals changed so did the topography. They were soon in a very narrow passage which had stalactites hanging down so far that they just about had to slither on the ocean surface.

  “Relax boys,” Brent said. “We get a bit more clearance just around this corn. . . ” His last word faded off as he turned the corner in the darkest part of the undersea cavern.

  “Colonel, are you alright?” Seven asked.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Brent softly said. “We have company, so approach slow and with caution.”

 

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