Deep within Tiffany Bar, a seething hatred began to take over. She stared hard at his face and searched her memory for what she knew about the man. A German, the man’s only family was his sister, Cecily, with whom he had had an incestuous relationship. She was in jail. He also suffered from severe aphenphosmphobia—an acute fear of touching anyone. Slowly, a desperate plan formulated in her mind.
Bar bent down and placed the silver-plated box on the ground at her feet.
“Kick it to me,” he demanded.
She did.
Never taking his eyes off her, Kappel bent down and grabbed the box. He stood upright. “That’s a good little girl,” he smirked. “Now, let’s take a walk in the woods.”
The words chilled Bar, and her thoughts raced. “I spoke to Cecily. She’s enjoying jail.”
Kappel’s eyes turned menacing in an instant. “She would never say that!” he shouted.
Fighting her fear, Bar took a step toward the man. Kappel instinctively backed up a step. “Stop moving!”
“Cecily says it’s wrong what you two did.”
“You do not know Cecily!”
“Oh, but I do. Her boyfriend went to visit her just yesterday at Haufmer Langstrafenanstalt.”
“No, she no longer talks to him!” Kappel’s anger caused his hand to shake and his aim to veer. He acted as if he wanted to use his other hand to stabilize it, but holding the Sudarium prevented him from doing so.
Steeling her nerves, Bar stepped forward once again. “Cecily never wants to see you again.”
Kappel tried to back up, but he found himself pressed into the corner. His face had reddened, and his eyes were darting about wildly. The gun was waving up and down, and he was unable to stop it.
Bar took a deep breath. It was now or never. She suddenly rushed him, turning her body sideways to make a smaller target. Kappel shook with frenzied eyes as she neared. He fired a shot, but it was off target. Bar reached him quickly, sending a balled fist into his face with as much force as she could muster. He recoiled, and the gun flew back against the wall and rattled to the floor. Kappel began to hyperventilate as Bar turned and dove for the weapon, which had slid a dozen feet away. She landed harshly on the stone where the pistol was just beyond her reach. As she pushed up on her hands and knees and scurried forward, a powerful grip clamped onto her ankle, drawing her backward. At the same time, an animalistic moan emanated from Kappel. Her knees smacked the stone, sending a harsh pain through her legs. Bar rolled over, kicking wildly, trying to free herself from his hold. He maintained his grip despite the fear and repulsion in his face from his phobia. Bar reached her hands over her head blindly, but was unable to find the pistol. She kicked again, catching Kappel in the chest. He withstood the blow with a grunt, then extracted a long knife from somewhere behind him. “I warned you!” he screamed, still shaking. She kicked with fervor as he raised the knife.
Bar knew she was about to die. She valiantly reached her hands over her head and, this time, barely grazed the cold metal of the pistol. With an agonizing reach which nearly pulled her arms out of her sockets, she extended and found the gun suddenly in her grasp.
Kappel scowled at Bar, launching the knife toward her midsection.
The blast in the confined room felt as if it shattered Bar’s eardrums. In a daze, Nicklaus Kappel wavered above her, a fresh hole in the middle of his forehead filled with blood. A look of disbelief and horror covered his face. She sent a second bullet into his chest, and he fell across her, his lifeless body pinning her down. Bar gathered her strength and rolled the man away. She sat up, the gun trembling in her hand. Her entire body shook, and she leaned over to the other side and vomited until nothing more would come out.
CHAPTER 58
September 14. Friday – 9:30 a.m. Egyptian Time (8:30 a.m. Oviedo, Spain)
30 minutes until the start of the Feast of the Cross
Tolen put a hand on Jade’s arm, and they both stopped their upward trek. “Have you considered the real probability that this third, and final, destination somewhere in the pyramid above will hold the physical remains of Jesus just as the other two locations entombed Joseph and the Apostles? If so, and we find Jesus’ remains, it will be irrefutable evidence to contradict the resurrection story.”
During their discovery of the Apostles in the cave system underneath the Petra on Patmos, Jade had wondered if the remains of Jesus might also be stored there. She had been relieved to find only the bodies of the twelve Apostles.
Jade took a half step closer, drawing within inches of him, chewing briefly on her bottom lip. “I don’t have an answer to that,” she began softly. “I know you’re in search of the truth, but I discovered long ago that faith is not something given to you by organized religion or a book. Those views are far too restrictive, imposed by men claiming to represent the divine simply because they deem themselves the experts. I believe true spirituality is only achieved by looking within. I’m not going to try and change your mind regarding what you experienced when you were electrocuted. I’m an archaeologist. I deal exclusively in facts, so faith tends to be a hard concept for me to latch onto, but I also know within each of us is an undeniable power whose source cannot be quantified by science. It drives us and carries us through the day, determining our actions. It exalts our achievements and tugs at our heart strings when we’ve done wrong.”
“You’re talking about the human conscience.”
“Yes, that unquantifiable part of us which makes us human: the ability to be compassionate, to care, to love, to feel grief, to be embarrassed, to forgive, to regret. Let’s face it, when you break it down, the human body is just a machine. Mankind can build robots that can replicate nearly every movement we can make. Computer programs can be generated based on decision models to replicate thinking. But no one will ever be able to duplicate decision-making based on emotions, because emotions have no tangibility. I believe this emotional power, the human conscience, or whatever you want to call it, carries on in an enlightened state once the physical vessel has ceased. I have no proof, but I believe it in my heart to be true.”
Tolen’s expression was unreadable, and he did not respond. Instead, he looked at his watch. “Less than half an hour until the start of the Feast of the Cross. I hope Bar is having better luck than we are. Let’s keep moving.” Tolen continued up the ramp, the electric lantern lighting the empty corridor ahead.
Again they reached a corner and turned left. Although the incline was subtle, Jade felt the strain on her thighs and calf muscles. Fatigue could have overwhelmed her if she allowed it, but she pushed on, diverting her thoughts away from her weary body and concentrating on her footing as they continued to trudge across loose debris. Even with the cool temperatures, Jade was perspiring profusely.
Tolen set a brisk pace. Jade found herself growing exceedingly anxious to discover what awaited them at the end of the corridor. They reached the corners at an ever-increasing rate as each ramp, which aligned to the pyramid’s sides, naturally reduced in length. Jade had lost count of the left turns as they spiraled up the pyramid. Their footfalls echoed ahead in the distance, and the footing became easier as the loose, gravelly debris thinned out. The smell of cedar lingered as they climbed. Jade knew the tunnel would end when it reached the summit. The fear of not finding a way out was temporarily overshadowed by the excitement as they neared the end of what might be the greatest archaeological quest of all time. It had been a grueling journey, fraught with danger from both modern-day and ancient influences. Miraculously, the clues had led them to places and formations which remained in existence 2,000 years later. In all that time, these locations had gone undiscovered. In a way, Jade felt she and Tolen had been destined to make this journey; their fates interlocked to solve one of mankind’s greatest mysteries. Now the moment was drawing close when they would learn the truth: whether the texts in the ston
e jars had been some ancient ruse or valid instructions to a pivotal discovery in mankind’s continual quest for knowledge.
Jade’s sweaty skin tingled in anticipation as the passageway corners became even more frequent. She found herself pressing faster up the incline in order to keep up with Tolen. At the next left turn, the lantern light fell upon a solid stone wall.
They had reached a dead end.
Jade noticed the left wall. There were handholds hewn into the surface leading upward. Wordlessly, she pointed to it, and Tolen raised the lantern as the two looked up. A four-sided shaft, four feet by four feet, reached overhead. It continued maybe a half-dozen feet into the ceiling before it opened up.
Jade wiped her brow with the back of her wrist and noticed her entire arm was shaking. With great effort, she steadied it.
“Are you okay?” Tolen asked. They had crowded together to see up the tunnel, and his face was close to hers.
She looked up at him. Her pulse had quickened, and she felt her face flush. She was breathing heavily from the climb and spoke barely above a whisper. “It’s up there. I can feel it.”
“You first,” Tolen said, motioning with his hand and stepping back to give her room.
She turned away from Tolen and faced the wall. She gripped the first handhold and hesitated. Everything they had gone through, all the clues they had decoded, and the thousands of miles they had traveled, had been a frantic rush to get here, yet now she felt such irrepressible trepidation that she spun back toward Tolen. Jade stared intently into his blue eyes. He must have read her unfiltered expression of doubt because he offered no words, only a look of compassion. It was exactly what she needed at that very moment. She smiled, feeling newfound resolve. Jade leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was a quick, satisfying show of affection. She drew in a deep breath, turned, and began scaling the wall.
Jade heard Tolen following her as she reached the corridor ceiling and climbed beyond into the vertical shaft. He was forced to hold the electric lantern in one hand as he went, and it clanked off the wall with each new grip and step up. Because the light was muted, filtering up from below her, Jade moved slowly, ensuring she had a firm grip and foothold in each carved niche. She paused to look up. Only a few feet above, she could see where the tunnel opened up, but the area was still cast in gloom. It had to be the end room: The Holiest of Highs.
She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
She scurried up, taking the last few handholds with reckless abandon, anxious to see the level above. She reached the opening and pulled herself up, momentarily sitting on the stone floor in the darkness. Tolen’s light from below streamed upward, dancing across a low, narrow ceiling where flecks of stone twinkled back at her. A second later, he joined her, pulling himself up to the floor. If there had been any doubt before, the smell of cedar was undeniable here.
The light revealed a tight hallway with a low roof. Jade rose, keeping her head low. Tolen did the same, dipping his tall frame awkwardly. Jade touched the walls and found them polished smooth. She looked to the ceiling and floor, which had also been buffed to a smooth finish. “It’s granite,” she said excitedly. “It’s exquisite!”
Ahead, the narrow hallway curved left out of sight. Jade took the lantern from Tolen’s hand. He offered no resistance. Still bent over, Jade led them forward through the banking turn. As soon as the passageway straightened, the tunnel ended.
To Jade’s amazement, they stood in a square room. The walls rose a dozen feet before giving way to a ceiling which peaked to a point in the center. This was the pinnacle room of the pyramid. At the back wall, facing out, was a large stone coffin, not unlike an Egyptian sarcophagus. As with the walls and floor, it was also made of granite and sat upon a granite base. A fourth, small stone jar sat atop the coffin. There was a continuous ledge, similar to a bookshelf, which wrapped around all four walls at chest level. Upon it lay aged clothing precisely folded and arranged—sandals, robes, sashes—as well as ancient plates, pots, cups, and other cooking and eating utensils. Every inch of ledge on all four walls was covered with artifacts. In one corner of the ledge was a large metal chalice. The staggering thought that this might be the Holy Grail was quickly overshadowed by the last feature of the room, an object which caused Jade to become dizzy as she gazed upon it.
A large section of light-brown tree trunk rose near the back wall behind the head of the coffin. Three-quarters of the way up, a second thick section of tree intersected it, forming a large crucifix. A second, black cross was thrown against the wall behind it, the mirroring shadow caused by the lantern’s light. Although not mentioned in the Bible, it has been suggested the cross upon which Jesus was crucified was erected from a tree indigenous to Israel: a Cedar of Lebanon.
She studied the lofty cross for a long minute, speechless. It rose to a height of more than twelve feet. The light brown wood was rough and, at the extremities of the arms and at the base, was saturated with dark blotches.
“Oh my God, it has blood stains!” she realized. Her thoughts whipped through her mind nearly out of control.
“Wood decays within months. Maybe years, but that’s if it’s treated,” Tolen remarked.
Jade noticed a sense of wonderment in his voice. It seemed that he, too, was overwhelmed.
“It could not have lasted thousands of years. This should be nothing more than a pile of dust,” Tolen whispered. Tolen passed by her and reached the coffin. With great delicacy, she watched him lift the small stone jar from the top. “A fourth Canopic jar.”
Jade merely nodded. Frankly, of all the objects in the room to take in at that moment, the stone jar interested Jade the least. She walked slowly past Tolen to the free-standing cross. It was set into the stone floor about six inches away from the wall like a Christmas tree in a base. Only when she drew near did she spy the Hebrew writing on the wall to the side of the cross. It had been inscribed meticulously.
She placed her fingers on the smooth wall and moved them right to left as she read the text aloud unconsciously. “It is finished. Jesus of Nazareth rests.” Jade looked at the writing, then back to the cross, lifting her head to take in its grandeur. As if having an out of body experience, she saw her trembling hand reach forward and touch it. The wood was far from perfect; rough and splintered, yet pressing her finger to it invoked a feeling of reverence Jade had never thought possible. She felt a sensation of warmth and cold at the same time. In her pious state, she turned to Tolen.
He was holding the stone jar. He tilted the jar one way and then the other. “Jade, look at this.”
She drew her hand away from the worn wood and headed over beside him. This fourth Canopic jar appeared smaller than the others. He handed her the vessel, and she attempted to remove the cap, but it wouldn’t budge. “The cap won’t come off?”
“It’s sealed.”
She examined the stone jar, tilting it from side to side as Tolen had. As she did, she could feel whatever was inside shift. There was a faint slosh. “It’s…liquid.”
Tolen nodded.
“Against the wall!” a surly voice bellowed from behind them.
Surprised, Jade spun in the direction of the sound. In doing so, she lost her grip on the stone jar, and it fell to the ground near Tolen’s foot, shattering in a conglomeration of stone shards and viscous red fluid.
Holding his lantern in one hand, the pistol leveled at them in the other, Pascal Diaz glared at them. They had been so captivated with the room that neither of them had heard him approach via the narrow passageway. “Over there!” Diaz waved the pistol, directing them to his left, away from the coffin and cross. His agitation was evident.
Jade and Tolen obeyed, backing against the chest-high shelf. Jade’s gaze was riveted on the red fluid pooled on the smooth floor. The stark realization struck her. The jar had held the blood of Christ, and it was
fresh blood! This was what Diaz was after.
Diaz quickly moved to the shards of the stone jar and lifted a section of the small base still intact. He stood, and his worried expression quickly morphed into a smile of victory. Keeping the pistol trained on Tolen and Jade, Diaz removed a small vial from his pocket and, holding the vial in the hand with the gun, poured a small amount of blood from the broken stone vessel into the vial. Then he capped the vial and placed it in his pocket.
Jade understood. “Dr. Cherrigan knew the jar of blood was here.”
“Cherrigan’s notes stated that Jesus’ mother, Mary, gathered the blood from the wound where the Roman guard stabbed Him with a spear while He was on the cross. Cherrigan surmised correctly that the blood might have elements which could confirm His divinity,” Diaz said, “and now it’s going to make me a fortune.”
“How did you get past the sealed doorway in the triangular room?” Tolen asked.
“Señor, when you break a jar, break it thoroughly. The weight of the pieces will always equal the weight of the whole.”
“Diaz,” Jade said, her words reverent, her eyes alive again, “look at this place. We found it. These are the objects of Jesus Christ…His possessions, and this,” she pointed to the back wall, “must be the wooden cross He was crucified upon.” As her words died, Jade was suddenly aware of the one obvious object in the room both she and Tolen had ignored: the coffin. It was the one thing she had prayed would not be there.
CHAPTER 59
September 13. Thursday – 11:46 p.m. U.S. Pacific Time (September 14. 8:46 a.m. Oviedo, Spain)
14 minutes until the start of the Feast of the Cross
Indisputable Proof Page 35