The Mountain Mother Cipher (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 2)

by N. S. Wikarski

  “Hello, my dear,” she greeted him with a smile. “I see you’re hard at work. Can I fix you a snack?”

  He stopped weeding and sat back on his heels, narrowing his eyes against the glare of the sun as he looked up at her. “I’d rather talk than eat if it’s all the same to you.”

  “About what, dear?” she murmured absently, still thinking about her team overseas.

  His voice was tense. “Who’s Sybil?”

  There it was. The moment she’d been dreading ever since he’d arrived. On some level she’d rather expected it. It was bound to have happened sooner or later and she’d always thought he might be the one.

  “Sybil who?” she countered weakly, trying to buy time. His abrupt question had knocked her off balance and she needed to sit down. Faye tottered over to a stone bench in front of her oldest rugosa.

  Zach followed and sat down beside her, sliding to the far end of the bench as he did so. “I found a letter…” he trailed off and his eyes darted away.

  “Found?” she inquired softly.

  “OK, I didn’t exactly ‘find’ it,” he admitted. His fingers made air quotes around the word “find.” She noticed how dirty his fingernails were from digging in the earth. He glanced back at her again. “I was snooping, alright? I know I had no business going through your things but there’s a lot of strange stuff going on around here and I needed some answers.”

  “You might have just asked.”

  “Like you’d tell me,” Zachary snorted. “I had to have some proof first that I wasn’t crazy or paranoid.”

  “So you read the letter?”

  “Yeah, I read it and it changed everything.” He paused and sat silent for a full minute, distractedly picking dirt from under his fingernails. “Who are you?” he finally asked.

  “You know me, Zach.”

  “I thought I did but you’ve got a lot of layers. You’re like a lasagna.”

  They both laughed. It seemed to break the tension.

  “That may be an apt analogy,” Faye agreed. “You’re already familiar with the cheese topping. That layer would be your Gamma.”

  He grinned. “Cheesy, huh?”

  Her smile faded. “I’m afraid the other layers are hidden for a reason.”

  He sat forward and stared at her intently. “Why don’t you trust me?”

  The old woman sighed. “Because, my dear boy, you’re fifteen.”

  “I’m almost sixteen,” he countered.

  “You are still very young.”

  “Fine!” He folded his arms defiantly across his chest. “Just when will I be old enough to be let in on the secret?”

  She gave him a searching look. “It isn’t a single secret, Zach. It’s an entire world of secrets. You asked me who Sybil was and I’ll tell you this much. She’s the tip of an iceberg. A small chunk of a much larger mass that remains invisible to the casual observer. To tell you any more about her would put other people’s lives at risk. I can’t confide too much information in you too soon.”

  He brightened as a new thought struck him. “You didn’t say never. So you mean someday you’ll tell me?”

  She smoothed the creases in her skirt and turned the question over in her mind before replying. “I rather think I will.”

  “Yes!” Zach punched the air triumphantly.

  Faye fixed him with a bright stare. “I wonder if you appreciate your singular position, Zachary.”

  That brought him up short. He peered at her uncertainly. “What do you mean, Gamma?”

  “Nobody else in the family has ever shown the slightest interest in the secret layers of my life.”

  He registered surprise. “Really? Nobody?”

  She shook her head. “Absolutely nobody.”

  “But how’s that even possible?” he cried. “I mean somebody had to ask questions. Sometime.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Would you consider curiosity to be a dominant trait in your family?”

  He laughed ruefully. “Not hardly. I come from a long line of zombies.”

  “That lack of inquisitiveness goes back much farther than you imagine,” she observed. “I suppose it began with my dear departed husband. He was the salt of the earth. Unfailingly kind but rooted as firmly in the ground as an oak tree. Not the least bit curious about anything unusual. He preferred to see what was directly in front of him and no more. At the time, his inattentiveness suited my purposes quite well. But after he was gone I thought perhaps someone in the family might show some curiosity. Might have the necessary spark to take a leap into the unknown. It became a test of sorts. I presented the opportunity for generation after generation to ask the right questions but nobody ever did. Until you. You’re really quite distinctive in the bloodline, Zach. An eccentric. A rebel. Inquisitive enough to want to get to the bottom of things. Most people sleepwalk through their lives. It takes an eccentric to see the world a little differently. It takes a rebel to question the facile explanations that authority figures so often give. In short, it takes someone like you. The more I think about it, the more I believe you’ll be an asset to our organization. Yes indeed. You’ll make a fine tyro.”

  “Huh?” His face was a blank.

  Her mind was made up. She already began planning. “We’ll go at it in stages. When I feel you’re ready, your training will begin.”

  “Training? Tyro?” he echoed. “What am I getting myself into?”

  “A whole new way of looking at the world. You said you wanted your life to make a difference, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but it all sounds kind of scary.” His voice held a worried note.

  “It’s no use developing cold feet now, young man.” She laughed. “You were in such a fret to get some answers. As the saying goes, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’”

  Chapter 33 – Mercenary Considerations

  Orvis aka Chopper Bowdeen was trying to suppress a yawn as he sat on a dais behind the bearded fossil at the podium. He was waiting to be introduced to the fifty greenhorns sitting in the audience gawking up at him. Every last one of them was wearing a black suit and tie with a white shirt. Their mouths were all gaping open in the same surprised O. They looked like a school of guppies.

  Bowdeen knew the reason for their wonder. They’d probably never seen anybody like him in their lives before. He was career paramilitary in a room full of nerdy little bible-thumpers. Maybe he scared them a bit. He wore his hair in a severe buzz cut and maintained his barrel-chested physique by bench-pressing a few hundred pounds every day. But that wasn’t what they were staring at. A deep scar that cut across the lower half of his face had lifted the right corner of his mouth into a permanent sneer. It put some people off. Given his line of work, he considered that an advantage.

  He transferred his attention back to the one who called himself Father Abraham. The old coot sure knew how to give a stemwinder. He’d been at it for over fifteen minutes already. God’s will, blah-blah. Everlasting glory, blah-de-blah-blah. Try as he might, Chopper couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting off-topic. This gig wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he came back to the states. He’d just finished a stint with a security operation in Iraq and decided to pick up a side job when old Abe contacted him. Leroy Hunt was behind the referral.

  He and Leroy went way back. Two Bama boys who joined the service during the first Gulf War. Both found they had a natural talent for the military and liked the life. Chopper couldn’t remember exactly when Leroy started dressing up like a matinee cowboy and talking like Slim Pickens but he didn’t really care either. Hunt always completed a mission with no foul-ups and that was all that mattered.

  Unfortunately, in their last conversation Hunt had breezed over the details about who these Nephilim characters were. As a rule, Bowdeen tried to steer clear of religious types. He’d already gotten his fill of fanatics in the middle east. They tended to make war a messy business when it ought to be cut and dried. He was a mercenary. He was willing to take a bullet for the right price unlike t
hose camel jockeys who were just itching to die for Allah to score points in heaven. He couldn’t beat their price no matter how steeply he cut his own rates. This Nephilim bunch didn’t seem all that different from their towel-headed brethren in the desert. Especially once Chopper forced himself to concentrate on what Abe was telling them.

  The old man had worked them up into a fine lather by now. He was on a roll. “My sons, you are God’s chosen, destined to play a vital role in the Lord’s plan for this earth. He has commanded the Nephilim to lead the world out of darkness and you, my sons, will be at the forefront of that march. You are about to be trained in the skills of combat that you may become mighty soldiers of the Lord. You will take your place in glory alongside the great heroes of the past. With Michael who drove Adam and Eve from Eden with a flaming sword. With Joshua who destroyed the walls of Jericho. With King David who crushed Goliath in the Lord’s name. Just as all these valiant ones live on in our memory so shall you, my sons. Your names shall endure forever and your reward shall be great in the kingdom of heaven.”

  It was classic religious cliché. Pump up a bunch of losers with low self-esteem by telling them how important they are to the cause. How much glory they’re going to achieve by becoming cannon fodder. Chopper had heard it a thousand times before but as he scanned the faces before him, he could see them drinking it all in. Their eyes had the fiery, dazed look of the true believer. He didn’t dismiss it all as holy smoke. Belief was a powerful thing. Sometimes Chopper thought of it as the ultimate weapon. If you could get a man to believe in something deeply enough, he’d be willing to commit any atrocity in its name.

  Chopper sensed that the endless preamble was winding to a close. He stood up to take the podium and give these kids a lecture on basic combat skills. After that would come weeks of weapons training. Teaching somebody to fire a gun assumed the existence of a target. He wasn’t sure who these Nephilim boys were supposed to be aiming at. He brushed the notion away. So what? He was a gun for hire. He’d never before questioned who the target was as long as he got paid. And he was being paid handsomely for this gig. What the hell did it matter who they wanted to destroy? As he stepped over to the microphone, an uneasy sensation in his gut told him that someday he might regret not asking that question.

  Chapter 34 – Sleight Change Of Plan

  Cassie stood up and dusted off her hands. “Phew, that’s a relief.” She watched as Erik and Griffin moved the lily stone back into position.

  “Any word on where our Nephilim buddies are at?” Fred asked, arranging smaller rocks around the perimeter to make their excavation less obvious.

  “Last Maddie could find out, they were searching shrines on the eastern side of the mountain,” Erik replied. He squinted across the plateau toward the mountain range in the distance. “I’d say that means close. They could get here any time now.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we got the fake artifact in place first,” Cassie observed.

  Griffin consulted his wrist watch. “I know it isn’t even midday but I’d suggest we clear off. It could be rather awkward if we were to encounter them while making our exit.”

  “Got that right.” Erik leaped to his feet. “The bait’s in place. We don’t need to wait for the rats to take it. Maddie is still monitoring Hunt’s phone calls to Metcalf. We’ll know the minute they dig it up.”

  The four teammates gathered their equipment and hiked the half mile back to the Jeep. They had just finished stowing their gear when Cassie picked up the jacket she had tossed across the hood. She reached into one of the pockets and gasped. “Oh no!”

  The men all turned to stare at her.

  “What is it?” Griffin asked.

  “My room key! It must have fallen out of my pocket when I took my jacket off earlier.”

  “Your room key?” Griffin repeated. “Why on earth didn’t you turn it in at the front desk?”

  “I forgot. OK? I was running late this morning and there was nobody at the desk anyway.” She searched all her pockets again. “I thought I heard a clinking sound when I picked my jacket up off the ground. “Jeez! That means the key is sitting right out there in the open. Practically right next to the lily stone.”

  “That key has the hotel name and room number on it.” Erik scowled. “If Hunt finds it and decides to check out who else was nosing around the megaliths, that key would lead him straight to us.”

  “Maybe he’d think it was just dropped there by a careless tourist.” Fred laughed nervously.

  “You want to take that chance?” Erik asked pointedly.

  “I have to go back.” Cassie was already jogging up the trail.

  Her companions scrambled to catch up with her.

  They trotted briskly up the path through the pines and climbed the rise toward the plateau when something stopped them dead in their tracks. The sight that greeted them was inconceivable. They’d been prepared to dodge the Nephilim but this was an entirely different matter.

  “Holy crap!” Cassie exclaimed.

  “What are they doing?” Griffin asked in wonder.

  “Guys, get down!” Erik commanded.

  The four flattened themselves against the ground and peered over the rim of the hill toward the plateau where the megaliths stood. A trio of men were circling the place where the artifact was hidden. They appeared to be Turkish. One wore traditional attire—wool trousers, cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves, an open vest and a visored cap. The other two were younger, dressed in jeans and camp shirts. All three sported the typical bushy moustache of the region. The man with the cap stooped down to pick up an object that flashed in the sun.

  “Dammit! That’s my key!” Cassie whispered.

  The trio seemed to be conferring about something. Then all of them bent down and began to dig around the base of the lily rock.

  “How did they know something was there?” Fred wondered.

  “They must have been watching us,” Griffin replied. “They may have been here the whole time we were burying the false relic. Just waiting for us to leave.”

  Cassie inched closer to the top of the ridge to get a better look. “Who do you think those guys are?”

  “Hunters maybe,” Erik speculated. “One of them has a rifle. It’s over there on the ground.”

  “They might be poachers looking for some illegal game,” Griffin added. “Or worse. They could be trading in black market antiquities.”

  Cassie turned to Erik. “Where’s that pistol you carry? It would come in pretty handy right about now.”

  “It’s in the Jeep with the rest of the gear. I had it with me until you went running off after your key and we all ran after you.”

  “That’s twice this has happened.” The girl glared at him. “You know what I’m going to buy you for Christmas? A holster! A freaking holster so the next time the bad guys have guns, you’ll actually have one too!”

  Erik was about to offer a biting retort when Griffin held up his hand.

  “Shhhh! Look!”

  Their whispers ceased. The four of them watched in consternation as the men below slid the lily stone aside. It took only a moment for them to locate the alabaster urn and dump out its contents. They laughed and patted one another on the back, passing the golden object from hand to hand.

  “Bloody hell!” Griffin exclaimed.

  “We have to get it back,” Erik growled.

  “But it’s a fake,” Cassie objected.

  “They don’t know that,” the Security Coordinator countered. “Fake or not, it’s solid gold and that makes it valuable to them. Besides, we don’t have time to get another copy made and bury it before the Nephilim get here. For all we know those guys down below would dig that one up too. No, we need to make sure they stay the hell away from here.”

  “Just how do you propose to do that?” the girl demanded.

  “I don’t know yet.” Erik raised himself to a crouching position. “Right now we need to move back into the woods. They’re getting ready to leave. We ha
ve to follow them.”

  As soundlessly as possible, the Arkana team backed away from the rise and ran for the cover of the pines. They waited out of sight until they saw the Turks enter the woods by another path.

  “Let’s hope they don’t have a car,” Erik muttered.

  “I didn’t hear the sound of a motor the whole time we were up there,” Fred observed.

  “Then that means they must live nearby,” Cassie speculated.

  “I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad one.” Griffin sounded troubled. “If they live nearby in one of the villages, that may mean they have allies.”

  “Guess we’ll see,” Erik said curtly. “Now everybody shut up or they’ll hear us.”

  The Arkana team advanced stealthily through the woods. Luckily, the three men were talking loud enough to cover any stray noise. They spoke excitedly in Turkish, joking and laughing with each other. They were clearly elated by their windfall.

  Their pursuers quickened their pace to close the gap when the trio went into a ravine that was hidden by undergrowth. Cassie came around the bend first. She almost yelped in surprise when she saw the men had stopped and were standing directly below them. She backed up. Unfortunately, Griffin chose that moment to trip over a tree root and stumble into her. The girl lost her balance and fell forward. She tumbled down the hillside directly into the path of the relic thieves. The Scrivener was about to lunge after her when Erik pulled him back.

  “No! Wait!” he hissed. “We need a tactical advantage. You rush in now and you’ll get her killed for sure.”

  Cassie landed on her backside with a thud.

  The three astonished men stared at her for a moment. Then the one with the rifle pointed it at her face. He gave commands in Turkish and gestured with the barrel of the gun for her to get up.

  She raised her hands warily above her head and stood up. “Ooops!” she said.