Moffat's Secret

by J. C. Williams

  “Because it stops the search. Haskin, Aman, and anyone that learns of the scrolls will know the tablets have been found. They will not search any more.”

  “I think there is something more to it,” Chad sighed. “You had the final location for two days before I reached Sedona. Did I dig up the real tablets? Did Begay die unnecessarily?”

  The Professor looked around once more at the grandeur of the cathedral.

  “We all make choices. Stay for a while, Dr. Archer. Ponder your insignificance. It doesn’t matter what I think or you think. Ponder the foresight someone had for just this one structure eight hundred years ago. Then think back three thousand four hundred years ago. What entity looked ahead to leave mankind a message? We shall talk in a couple months.”

  Chapter 125

  Two Months Later

  Archer took a last look at the manuscript. He liked it. Still, it was just the first pass. He learned over the last two months, that the process would require rewrites and more rewrites. Then there would be editing.

  Sandy was on duty today. One more week together and then Chad retuned to teaching at BC. It had been a great two months. Sandy and Chad grew close together. They shared everything about the time that they knew each other, and much about the time before they had met. They agreed to give a long distance exclusive arrangement a try. Chad was unsure. Not about the relationship, but about his academic future. He liked to teach archeology and forensic history. He didn’t care much for the digging. He realized the last few years that it was working with Doc, not the digging that he enjoyed. Writing these last two months went okay, but he didn’t see it as a career. Without writing and digging, BC may not need him. He wondered if he was ready for a career change. But to what?

  They traveled all over England on the weekends. London still gave Chad some fits finding his way around. However, put him on the country road and he was happy and comfortable. Even the wide one-lane roads didn’t faze him.

  One area they repeatedly visited was Ipswich. Elizabeth James and Sandy hit it off, sharing many uncomplimentary stories of their ‘Yanks’.

  They visited York, where it all started for them. Sandy’s grandfather continued to wander in and out of cognizance, his dementia becoming worse. Chad was glad he was there the day when granddad had all of his faculties and Sandy told the old man the rest of the story of Colin Moffat. She shared the facts that Colin Moffat was a hero and not a thief and not a deserter to his oath as one of the Guard.

  As the weeks and days passed, Chad became less paranoid about Haskin, Boyer, and their hit man George. He couldn’t stop thinking about how they got away with it. He commiserated with Boston Detective Jimmy MacDonald on one of his three trips to Boston. It appeared that Biskell escaped justice, as well, one more time. Mac told Chad to move on. There may be a day in the future when the ledger gets evened.

  It didn’t sit well with Chad and he continued to ponder it. Perhaps, he could find a way to hurry that future day of judgment.

  He still routinely swept the apartment, their cars, and his phone for bugs. He looked toward his phone thinking about calling Sandy to meet for lunch and celebrate the book completion.

  I’m psychic, he thought, as his phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Dr. Archer. This is the Professor. Do you think you and Saundra might find time to visit me this weekend?”

  “Sure. We don’t have plans. Does she know where you are?”

  He laughed. “She does. Bring your clubs if you are a golfer.”

  -----

  The flight was only an hour. It was evident that Sandy had been to the home overlooking the North Sea and the St. Andrews beaches. They were ushered into the Professor’s library where he had it set up for lunch.

  They made their greetings and settled into the comfortable sofas with an early afternoon whiskey.

  “Thank you for coming. There is something I want to show you and something I want to ask you.”

  The Professor turned on a large screen television and placed it on the auxiliary setting. The screen was blank.

  “Do you know how many satellites are launched each year?”

  “No idea,” Chad said.

  “Six or seven?” Sandy asked.

  “No.”

  “Twenty,” Chad threw out.

  “Most people have no idea. In the last twenty years there were twelve hundred. Almost sixty a year. In just the last ten years there were eighty a year.”

  “Wow,” Sandy said. “More than one a week.”

  “Is that mostly the USA military?” Chad asked.

  “The USA has been involved in more launches than any other country. In the first half of that twenty years they were involved in sixty percent, but only thirty-two percent the last ten years. As far as military or government involvement, only half the launches involved them.”

  “You’ve done the math, Professor, and are leading us somewhere,” Chad said, one teacher to another.

  “The point I am leading to is that a commercial or civil launch occurs every other week. Today you get to watch such a launch.”

  The Professor fiddled with the remote. An obvious view from a satellite filled the screen. Chad recognized the state of Florida.

  “You are watching this courtesy of a commercial satellite owned by a Guardian. It is temporarily out of order to its paying users, since we have commandeered it today.”

  The satellite zoomed in on a section of Florida. They watched in awe at the launch. Two fiery ignitions later a satellite came into view.

  “That is a joint launch by the USA Air Force and a commercial company owned by Haskin, Stella Enterprises. All of the communications programs, hardware, and software were supplied free from Haskin to the Air Force. Unusual, I know. We will follow the satellite.”

  Lunch of liverwurst and watercress sandwiches was served as they watched the satellite circle the globe one time, ninety minutes.

  “We expect this next pass to be more interesting,” the Professor said. “We are monitoring its radio signals. You will hear some beeps.”

  The Professor explained further. See there. The satellite is veering from its original orbit. We expected Stella Enterprises to take control and send the satellite on a course of its own choosing.”

  As the satellite flew over Egypt, a burst of signals was heard.

  “We believe they are emitting the binary code on the tablets. We find it amusing to guess what order they will read the code? Which is the first tablet, which is the second. Do you read in front-to-front or in front-to-back order. Do you read left-to-right or right-to-left?”

  They heard another set of radio beeps. The Professor’s phone buzzed. He took the call in a corner of the room. He only spoke a few minutes and then hung up.

  “It seems the second signals we heard were emanating from the Great Pyramid.”

  The Haskin satellite maneuvered itself north and south passing over several sites attributed to the ancient astronauts. The Professor received a call on each radio burst and the responding beep.

  The ninety minutes was almost over as the satellite and the Guardian’s tracker crossed over the California coast and then over the desert nearing Sedona and the Hopi reservation.

  They all jumped as a burst of light leapt from below the satellite. They jumped a second time when the Haskin satellite exploded in front of their eyes.

  “Whoa. What happened?” Chad asked.

  The Professor was smiling. He called a number. The scene on the screen froze, rewound, and then showed the last minute in slow motion. It definitely looked like a beam of light came from a point south of the Sedona area, near Phoenix.

  “That area is named the Superstition Mountains,” Chad said. “Native Americans believe that their gods or visitors have a home under there.”

  “Perhaps the gods didn’t feel we have fulfilled the covenant,” the Professor stated. “Or, maybe the US government didn’t like having its satellite hijacked.”

  “H-m-m. Or,”
Chad suggested, “Maybe, the Guardians decided this was the most blameless way to stop Haskin.”

  “We’ll never know,” the Professor said. “Chad, I’d like to talk with you a few minutes. Could you excuse us, Sandy?”

  Chapter 126

  Archer spoke up “No. Please stay, Sandy.” He looked to the Professor. “She can stay.”

  “I should go. I’ll wait for you outside.” Sandy left.

  The professor moved his chair to sit across from Chad, their knees almost touching.

  “Dr. Archer. Chad. Would you consider working for me?”

  “What? Doing what?”

  “I don’t want you to give up archeology or teaching. Consider it a job as a consultant. An investigator. I could use your skills of deduction and your application of logic.”

  “You know I don’t prescribe to a religious belief. Nor for that matter, an interplanetary visitor theory, either.”

  “That makes you objective. You are not a dis-believer either.”

  “I’ll think about it. But, I am returning to the states in a few days for the fall semester. It will have to be by long distance.”

  “I know. I have spoken to your Dean, in fact with the President of Braxton College. We think that, if of course you agreed, we could come to an arrangement that you could put in some time here and some time in Boston. It wouldn’t start until the next semester.”

  “Really? Where would here be?”

  “You have a choice of several places with an archeology program. Cambridge, Oxford, York. Edinburgh is close to me.”

  “How about the College of London?” Chad asked.

  “I thought you might pick that one,” he smiled. “Though we can arrange a transfer for Sandy if you would like one of the other places. She liked York, yes?”

  “You should say you can arrange a transfer if she likes, not if I like. I believe she likes where she is just fine. We can ask her.”

  “Quite right,” the Professor conceded.

  “Why are you doing this, Professor? I know enough about you to guess it is something other than the obvious.”

  “Recruitment, Chad. We’ll need replacement Guardians in the future. You have the qualifications, even if you don’t see it.”

  Chad considered it for a few moments. “I’d like to offer you a trade. My acceptance of helping you for your help.”

  “Intriguing, Archer. What would you like my help with?”

  “How good is Lupa?”

  “Good in what way? A tracker, a protector, an assassin?”

  “I’d say as a tracker first and an interrogator second.”

  “She is very good, on both accounts.”

  “I have a plan. However, Sandy has to hear it. I’ll ask her to come back in.”

  Chapter 127

  Archer ran through the crisp early morning air of Boston. This might be the best week for the fall colors he thought. The beginning of October sometimes turned cold but sometimes held out another week for a last gasp of the summer. Something called Indian summer, though Chad did not know why. This year the weather seemed to be in between the two.

  When he reached home he toweled off and fixed coffee. It was a little early, but he called Julie hoping to catch her at home. He felt bad about what he was about to do.

  They talked about the usual topics. The book. The campaign. The new school semester. The cold weather in Boston. The hotter weather in Madison.

  Chad breathed deeply and plowed ahead.

  “Julie. I have been miserable now for several months. I can’t sleep. I’m tormented. I need to do something. It may put me in danger. I wanted to call you and let you know, in case something happens.”

  “Chad. You are joking? Aren’t you?”

  “No. Your father’s quest, Julie. When I found what he was hunting, I did something I regret. I traded it and traded my silence for the sake of protecting others and myself. I feel guilty about it. Very guilty.”

  “What was it, Chad? What are you talking about?”

  “I cannot tell you, Julie. I need to share Henry’s find. My find. Share it with the world. It is very, very important. More than you know. But, you will know soon. I’m going to Egypt tomorrow. It is the place to make the announcement.”

  “Chad, let me help you. Let me get someone to help you, to advise you.”

  “Who? With Doc gone, I really don’t have anyone I feel I can talk with.”

  “I know a person, Chad. Someone who has been advising me.”

  “Thanks, Jules, but I’m really okay with this. After I made my decision, I slept last night for the first time. This is the right thing to do.”

  She became more concerned. Chad became more resigned. They finally disconnected.

  Chapter 128

  Archer disappeared for thirty minutes inside the Mogamma, the major center of government administrative offices, near Tahir Square, in Cairo. There were enough different government functions here that anyone following him wouldn’t know his destination. The hundreds of people that filled the halls in the twenty-story building screened Chad’s movements, which was simply to wander the halls and create questions for his pursuers.

  He took a taxi back to his hotel near the airport, just outside of New Cairo City. He took the third taxi in the line as he was advised, setting off arguments between the drivers. He settled it by giving the first two a tip.

  He took the elevator up one floor, got out and took the stairs back to the main floor. He went to the bar and waited thirty minutes.

  Then he took the elevator up three flights. Chad walked confidently to his room, slid in the key card, and opened the door.

  “Come on in, Dr. Archer. Close the door and take a seat. By the way I was not impressed with your amateurish attempts at surveillance evasion.”

  Chad looked at George, the former MI6 operative and Haskin’s enforcer, sitting calmly in the chair facing the door. A gun with a silencer lay on top of the table next to him, a foot from his hand.

  Chad stepped to his right, his left hand still on the door, holding it open.

  George’s instincts told him something was not natural in Chad’s movements. He looked toward the open door. He looked too late. Lupa appeared and shot a taser into George’s chest.

  George blinked for a second and then reached for his weapon. Lupa realized immediately he had a vest on. She drew her silenced pistol with her left hand.

  He was quick. She was quicker. She shot his pistol away. Then put two into his vest, making him double over, incapacitating him for the next six seconds. She only needed four of those seconds. Lupa quickly moved to George, pulling a syringe from a pocket. She stabbed him in the back of the neck.

  -----

  George awoke and took a moment to get his bearings. His legs were strapped to a metal chair bolted to the floor. His hands were pulled behind him and bound individually to the back of the chair. His mouth was not taped and he was not blindfolded. He was groggy. His vision slightly blurred.

  “It will take a few minutes for the drug to wear off, George,” Lupa said.

  George squinted and could see her sitting in a folded chair about ten feet away. He also saw a cart with a television on it to his right. A DVD player was connected to it. A large clock with a second hand was on the cart. He sneered at the psychological attempt to make him feel time was so important.

  “Sorry for the use of the drug. I needed to get you out of the hotel quietly,” she said.

  His head had cleared. He evaluated his situation.

  “You didn’t kill me, Lupa, so you must want something. What is it?”

  “Two things actually,” she said. Lupa turned on the television. A hand held camera followed a masked and gloved person through familiar streets and into an apartment. “We would like you to give us Boyer. We want your testimony against him and his involvement in the death of Dr. Clark.”

  George scoffed, his eyes watching the television. “That won’t happen. I won’t turn on him. Even if I wanted to, his lawyers wi
ll dismiss anything as hearsay. There is no evidence.”

  Lupa was unfazed. “The second thing is that we want you to confess to the murders of Elsha Lipman and Avi Feigel.”

  George laughed. “So, I suppose torture is next? I know you are an assassin, not an interrogator. What the hell is going on there?” he asked nodding toward the television.

  “Oh that,” Lupa answered. “George, do you remember four months ago there was a bombing of a bus of school children on the north side of Cairo? Thirteen dead. Ten injured badly, missing body parts.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, George what you see there is me going through your apartment here in Cairo.”

  “I don’t have an apartment in Cairo.”

  “Oh, but you do, George. Records will show you had it two months before the bombing. What I am doing there is planting a few things. Maps. Materials to make a bomb. Similar trigger devices as was used in the bus bomb. And a chemical composition that matches the bomb. We know all of that from the police records. Secret records, not shared with anyone. Yes, I definitely think you will be connected to the bombing.”

  George was quiet.

  Lupa let it sink in.

  “Are you familiar with Egyptian criminal prosecution, George? There are not many rights for the accused. It may take years to come to trial, that is, if they want to bring you to trial. Most likely it will not be a public trial. It will be made public that an arrest was made. The citizens will need to know that their government can protect them and bring justice. Justice. An eye for an eye, in many Arab states. If you blind a person, justice is that you are blinded. You steal, your hand is cut off. Think about all the maimed children, Think of the justice that will be exacted of you by their parents.”

  George was sweating profusely now. His mouth was dry. He was able to manage a squeaky reply. “My lawyer will prove where I was then. It was not in Egypt.”

  “A lawyer?” Lupa laughed. “You think you will get a lawyer? Now on the other hand, George, Israel does not have the death penalty. It’s life in prison, usually reduced to thirty years, and a third of the time off for good behavior. George, we have about thirty minutes to get you out of Egypt. In twenty minutes, a call is being made to state security. Ten minutes after that the first officers will arrive here in the warehouse. In another five minutes, special forces will break in those doors.”