by K. T. Tomb
“Don’t apologize, Tony. There’s nothing more you could do for us here. In fact, that’s really why I’m calling you.”
“Oh, okay. Shoot, kiddo.”
“I want these people out of Baghdad as soon as we can get them out of these buildings, any chance you could arrange a couple of choppers?”
“I don’t see why that would be a problem, Babe. I told you I could get military assistance if you needed it. Give me the details.”
“Okay we’ve got nine in the warehouse they’re all Americans; and there’s eight, including Lana, at the abandoned hotel. I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“That’s easy enough. What time do you start moving in?”
“We’ll be making entrance at oh-one hundred.”
“They’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Babe.”
***
The entire operation was complete by one fifteen the following morning. Chyna and another sniper, Agent Collins, had positioned themselves in close-by trees and had taken out three offending sentries allowing the operatives from their team to quickly gain access and neutralize the kidnappers.
With Lana’s help, Agent Hamilton was able to identify and isolate the group’s leader; a man named Aziz, and take him back to the embassy for questioning. The others were taken either to Baghdad Central Prison or the morgue.
At the warehouse the agents had stormed the building from both the front and back, breaking down both doors and surprising the hostage-takers on the ground floor without any casualties. They hadn’t thought to place any lookouts around the building neither had they left anyone in the upstairs room where they had put the scientists to sleep for the night. Oscar had radioed Chyna with the progress report as soon as they had handcuffed all the kidnappers and checked to see that the hostages were all accounted for and healthy.
As soon as Chyna had received his call, she had given Tony the go ahead and ten minutes later Black Hawk helicopters touched down to retrieve the UNESCO personnel and take them directly to the Victory Base Complex for final transport back to Paris.
Back at the embassy, Chyna and Lana, still unable to let go of each other, scanned the busy parking lot for Oscar and Sirita. The two came bursting out of one of the black FBI panel vans and ran full tilt towards them. They hugged each other and Sirita burst into tears.
“Promise me you won’t do that again, Lana. I almost had a heart attack over this.”
“I won’t. Trust me!”
“I’m sorry to bust up the happy reunion,” Agent Hamilton said, walking up to the group. “But that Iraqi has been singing like a canary and whether what he has to say is actually the truth or not, I really think you want to hear all of it.”
Chyna raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Aziz claims to have colluded with a man named Petrovik in Director Le Gal’s office to kidnap the site personnel. Apparently, the plan was to ransom them back to UNESCO and the United Nations and ruin Ilea’s reputation when the shit hit the fan and the media feeding frenzy began.”
“He’s right,” Lana confirmed. “That’s what he told me, too.”
“You spoke to him?” Oscar asked, puzzled.
“Sure thing, cowboy.”
“How?” he asked.
“I speak Arabic as well as five other world languages, son. You don’t know all of Lana’s tricks yet.”
They all laughed at her joke and turned to follow Agent Hamilton inside to hear exactly what Aziz had to say for himself.
“Did he give you any idea of what all this was all about? Outside of the ransom, that is?” Chyna asked her.
“Well, it’s also about the altar the archaeologists uncovered. There was something about the small snake idol I was cataloging that had bothered me. It seemed as if it had originally been attached to another piece but everything else in the altar seemed complete to me. It was clear that the site had been robbed before, possibly prior to the start of the Persian Gulf War, but when the fighting broke out, whoever was there probably didn’t have the opportunity to take the rest of the statues.
“Aziz confessed to me that when UNESCO declared the ruins to be a World Heritage Site in 2004 and funded the rest of its excavation, Petrovik was contacted by a Ukrainian billionaire who claimed to have purchased an unprecedented piece from Babylon: a life- sized statue of the goddess Ishtar, but there was a piece missing that he wanted to buy. The man offered Petrovik six million Euros for the piece. I doubt they’ll find it now, much less any of the other pieces that I crated for transport back to Paris. All I have left are the photographs that I saved to our server.”
The next morning, Chyna, Oscar, Lana, Sirita and both bodyguards were on a plane to Paris. They left Eli and Asha behind to help gather the result of the various interrogations in order to make a complete report to Found History on behalf of Rashid, the Watchers and the Foundation.
“We’ll see you two again very soon. Agent Hamilton has all the details for your flights back to Istanbul.”
“Thank you, Miss Stone. We will see you when you get back there. Inshallah!” Eli replied.
Asha just nodded her agreement, as usual.
On the way to the airport, Lana placed a call to Ananda Spearheart.
“Ananda?” she said, when the woman answered the phone.
“Lana? Is that you?” she replied, the disbelief evident in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s me, Ananda. How are things?”
“Oh, it’s great to hear your voice, my love, but I’m sure Chyna’s told you what happened.”
“She sure did. Listen, all the site personnel are on their way back to Paris later today. They’re all at the Victory Base Complex getting ready for their transport; FBI Special Agent Hamilton at the Baghdad embassy is coordinating that so I’d suggest you touch bases with him so you can make the proper arrangements for their arrival.”
“Thank you for that, Lana,” she said. Then she let out a long sigh and continued, “We still haven’t located the Director. We’re going to have to alert her family members and the media about it today.”
Chyna could see from Lana’s face that the situation with Ilea was still not resolved and when Lana looked up, she saw Chyna motioning to her to pass the phone over so she could talk to Ananda.
“Hold on a minute, Ananda. Chyna wants to speak to you.”
“Ananda,” Chyna said, “Listen, I don’t want you to do anything until we get there this afternoon. There’s at least one mole in Ilea’s office and we don’t want you to spook him. I’ve contacted FBI at the Paris embassy and they’re sending over a couple of agents to keep an eye on our suspect until we get there. Okay?”
“Sure thing, Chyna.”
“Just sit tight and we’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
Chyna hung up the phone and looked at her team. After a moment, she laughed and shook her head.
“Why is it that every assignment we take ends up turning into two…or three?” she asked, rhetorically.
Her four companions couldn’t help but laugh as well.
Chapter Four
On the afternoon of Hammurabi’s return to Babylon, the entire city came out to greet the king and queen and their triumphant army of men. They’d had an extremely successful campaign in Assyria; crushing the country’s administrative powers and destroying the capital city, leaving it in complete ruin.
As they approached the city, the citizens saw that the king’s horse was pulling something behind it by a long rope. As they came closer, there was a loud cheer from the walls of the city as the people realized what the heavy object was. It was the center stone from the main gate archway of Nineveh. Dragging that stone back to Babylon indicated that the king had completely devastated Nineveh and that it would never be rebuilt without his permission. When he gave that permission he would return the center stone to the assigned builders.
The queen also brought her spoils back to Babylon in the form of Ishme-Dagan’s pal
ace slaves. Behind her horse there walked two lines of them; one line of males and another of females. The crowd shouted deafeningly as their rulers rode through the city gates and up to the steps of their royal palace. There would be no early rest for them that night; instead there would be much feasting and celebration for their return.
They climbed the steps hand in hand and took their seats on the curule chairs that had been elegantly placed on the top step. The makeshift dais was elaborately decorated with tiger skins and colorful rugs. Flowers and beautiful plants had been brought down from the royal gardens by the dozens in an effort to transform the area into a sort of forest around the king and queen.
Astounded, they took their seats and watched as the crowd below publicly stripped the Assyrian slaves, washed them and dressed them in Babylonian palace livery. When the food began to come out for the feast, they were made to serve it to everyone who was present from the highborn citizens to the lowest common man who was gathered in the crowd. After everyone had received bread and dried fruits, the people broke into various groups based on class and clique to wait for the rest of the feast food to be presented.
The concubines of Hammurabi’s court were also out for the festivities. They stood to the far side of the top step in a group and watched the proceedings in relative silence, only clapping their hands occasionally when something amused them. All except Kashira, of course. She had begun wailing the moment she had laid her eyes on the Stone of Nineveh and still cried unrelentingly. She cried because she knew her father was dead and if the stone was here in Babylon then it was true that the city had been destroyed as well.
Just then dancers emerged and began to perform for the court. They were exquisite beauties; fit and lithe from years of conditioning and practice. They wore sheer gauze tunics in red and yellow and blue. On their heads they wore the elaborate wigs that performers were known for and a wonderful array of jewelry about their neck, wrists and ankles. Bells tinkled from their bracelets and anklets with every move they made. When the dance was finished the crowd cheered loudly but none so loudly as Ishtari. She was particularly fond of dance performances and the troupe had pleased her immensely. She stood from her chair and trays of dried honeyed dates were brought for her to throw to the dancers by the handful. She threw tray after tray until finally satisfied, she returned to her seat. The dancers kneeled and gathered the sweet treats by the handful into the skirts of their sheer dresses.
It was at that point that Kashira lost what little composure she had managed to retain. Unable to bear her grief any longer, she threw herself at Hammurabi’s feet, crying hysterically. But instead of comforting her, he grew enraged at her feeble effort to manipulate his emotions. Frustrated and angry and still disappointed at her initial treachery of rallying her father’s forces against him, he confronted her.
“Kashira, it is not true that you do not feel that you are here in Babylon to serve the pleasure of my queen as much as to serve my own?” he asked, accusingly.
“Yes, Master. It is true. She is only a woman and I am your concubine. It is your pleasure that I administer, not hers. Yet she poisons me and is not admonished for it. Is she your equal, Master?”
Kashira stood up, emboldened by her insolent remarks and flashed chastising looks at both the king and queen.
“Kashira, what you speak is hatred for your queen and hatred for your queen is treason. It is law that I must give you the opportunity to recant such careless statements for it is common knowledge that as people we say things in error, especially when we are not thinking clearly. So, will you recant your statement or make it stand firm?”
“I will not recant!” she shouted at him and turned to Ishtari, hurling insult after insult at the queen while crying hysterically.
Suddenly fed up with her nonsense, Ishtari stood up from her chair and kicked Kashira in the stomach throwing her from the top step. The entire crowd watched silently as her body rolled and bounced all the way to the bottom of the steps where her head struck the Stone of Nineveh, breaking her neck. As the crowd had watched Kashira’s body rolling to the street, Ishtari had begun to descend the stairway. At the bottom, she stood over Kashira’s body looking into the dead girl’s face. Then, she stepped into the pool of blood that was flowing from Kashira’s head and stepped on the girl’s face with her bloody sandal. The crowd gasped, then began cheering loudly again. She had stepped on the concubine with the sole of her shoe; the greatest form of disrespect that anyone could show another person.
Satisfied, Ishtari turned and sauntered back up the stairs. When she reached the top step, she kneeled before Hammurabi to offer her apologies for ruining his property without his permission. She touched the palms of both her hands to his feet and lifted them to her forehead. He in return touched the top of her head in acceptance. She flashed a stern look in the direction of the other concubines as she resumed her seat beside her husband; may they take heed and be warned, no concubine would ever receive precedence over her as long as Babylon stood or she continued to draw breath.
A few weeks later the temple was ready to be dedicated. The altar idols had been carefully prepared according to Hammurabi’s strict instructions but he had not been allowed to oversee their production. In Babylon, the carving and painting of the images of divine entities was stringently reserved for the members of the priesthood. Still, the king hardly had a doubt that the temple would look exactly as he had envisioned it. When he had returned from Nineveh, he brought a caravan of stone, marble and hematite to add to the construction materials for the temple complex, but now that it was complete he was anxious about how it would look.
A particular item of concern was the last minute addition he had made to the diorama. The priests had been stunned to silence when he had told them of the inclusion but as he described what his vision for the display as a whole was, they were intrigued by the idea.
When Hammurabi led Ishtari into the temple for the first time, they were both speechless. It was easy to say that there had never been such an altar constructed in all of Babylonia.
There were two great idols facing each other; one of the goddess Ishtar who was created to bear a fair resemblance to Ishtari herself, and there was Ninurta, who was undoubtedly fashioned from the image of Hammurabi. Ninurta stood tall with his four wings spread wide about his shoulders and torso. Both his hands were raised high in attack and in both he carried the pronged fork of the War God. His feet were astride; set in a fearsome and powerful stance as he fought a large monster that sought to swallow the kingdom of Babylon.
The real spectacle, however, was the goddess Ishtar. She stood boldly, which was not a common stance for her image to be presented in. She was usually pictured seated. Her legs were astride, like a man’s, symbolizing strength and firmness. Both arms were outstretched in praise and support of Ninurta in his efforts to slay the beast. Beneath the sandal on her left foot is the statue of a large black basilisk which is being subdued and defeated as she crushes it.
The entire scene at the new altar is glorious and they step back to admire it in its totality.
“What a glory to the gods you have created, husband,” Ishtari said in astonishment. “You have truly captured their incomparable strength and beauty.”
“Ishtari, you never cease to amaze me,” Hammurabi said, laughing. “When you should see things for the sheer vanity that they are, you instead see the divine and are ready to walk straight into the fields of heaven. This altar is dedicated to us as much as it is to Ninurta and Ishtar. This is the defeat of the creatures that seek to destroy the good in the world, but it is also telling of how we destroyed the evil that was Assyria.
***
When they landed at Charles de Gaulle airport, Chyna felt drained. She was happy to have her friend back safely and the other hostages out of harm’s way, but she was frustrated; on and on the assignment seemed to drag and just as she felt she was beginning to understand what was happening around her, the entire ball game seemed to change.
&
nbsp; Her cell phone rang almost as soon as the she had exited the aircraft. It was Nigel and he sounded distressed.
“Hey Boss, how are things going?” he asked quickly.
“We just landed in Paris. There’s no telling yet, Nigel. What’s up?”
“Well since I found Lana’s uploads on the server, I’ve been keeping an eye out for any newly added data from all our field personnel and searching all server level for information that might prove important to the case.”
“Yes?” Chyna said, impatiently.
“I noticed that your secure line had new voicemail recordings and I decided to pull the call details. You have three calls that originated from an unknown Paris number and all three were recorded the evening of Director Le Gal’s disappearance.”
“Ilea is one of the very few people who have that number.”
“That’s what I realized when I cross referenced your number against the company security disclosure list. Do you have the phone with you?”
“Of course I do, Nigel.”
“Then I’d suggest you check those messages before you get to Place de Fontenoy.”
“I agree. Thank you, Nigel and keep up the good work.”
“Thank you, Boss.”
Chyna ended the call and slid the phone back into her jacket pocket before she turned to Oscar.
“Could you hand me the encrypted phone, Oscar? I put it in your tech bag for safe keeping.”
“Sure thing.”
He stopped to swing the bag around and took the sturdy Blackberry® Bold from the bag, handing it to Chyna. She turned it on and dialed the number to retrieve her voicemail. As soon as the message started she knew that Nigel had been right. Ilea’s tense voice came over the speaker to Chyna’s ear as clear as a bell.
She was obviously frightened and distressed as she said frantically into the phone:
“Chyna…This is Ilea. I just found a trace has been placed on my email account and for the last few days every email I have responded to has been blind copied to Petrovik’s I.P. address. I don’t know why he would be spying on me but I have a feeling it has to do with our missing people. If anything else comes to me or anything new develops on my end, I’ll let you know. If you have made any headway in Iraq, do give me a call.”