The Nostradamus File

by Alex Lukeman

  Nick said, "We'd better get out of here."

  "Shouldn't we keep searching?"

  "If anything was here, they've already got it."

  "What about her?"

  The cleaning lady was unconscious. Her face was covered in blood.

  "She can clean up after herself."

  They got in the car and drove away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nick dreamed.

  He's in the village again, where a child will die. On the right are the flat roofed houses that will turn into platforms of death for his Marines. On the left, more houses and a patchwork of ramshackle bins and hanging cloth walls that make up the market. Flies buzz in clouds around meat hanging in the butcher’s stall.

  He hears a baby cry. He always hears the baby cry, somewhere in one of the houses, a thin, frightened wail. The street is deserted.

  The enemy rises up on the rooftops and begins firing, like always. The market stalls turn into a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings, like always.

  A child runs at him from one of the houses, yelling that God is Great. He can't be more than ten or eleven years old. The boy cocks his arm back and throws the grenade. Nick's rifle kicks back in a quick 3 round burst and the child's face disappears in a plume of blood. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion...everything goes white...

  "Nick!"

  Selena's voice woke him. They were in a hotel in Paris. He sat upright, heart pounding as if it would smash through his ribs. He wiped his hand across his face, rubbed his eyes. The dreams had come back, more frequent since the attack on the old Project building. Always some variation of the same dream, reliving the day he'd almost died. The day he'd shot a child.

  Selena stood naked by the side of the bed. She didn't look happy.

  "Why are you out of bed?"

  "You hit me in your sleep, thrashing around. I got out of the way."

  "Oh, hell. I'm sorry."

  "You have to do something about this. It's getting worse. We've talked about it before. You have to see someone."

  Nick was silent.

  "I know you don't want to talk with a therapist. But you have to do it. For both of us. You have to see someone."

  "All right. I'll think about it."

  She sat down on the bed. "Promise me, Nick. Promise you'll do it."

  "I said I'd think about it."

  "Promise you'll do it."

  There was something unspoken in her voice, a warning.

  "Okay," he said. "I'll do it. After we get back." He looked at the clock. "It's too early to get up," he said.

  She moved next to him. "We don't need to get up."

  She touched his face, ran her fingers over the stubble.

  "I don't think I can go back to sleep," he said.

  "We don't have to sleep."

  Selena moved her hand down his side, feeling the old scars, the legacy of war written on his body.

  "Besides," she said, "if you're not asleep, I don't have to duck."

  He looked into her eyes, felt the smooth curve of her hip.

  Later, they slept.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Nick and Selena took an Air France flight from Paris to Amman in Jordan, rented a Land Rover at the airport and drove to the American embassy. Harker had arranged for their guns to be forwarded from the embassy in Paris. It was a handy use for the diplomatic pouch.

  They picked up the guns and went to their hotel. It was situated on the highest hill in Amman, looking out over the city in a spectacular view. Tall, Romanesque columns scaled the facade. A row of palms marched along the street in front of the building. The lobby featured a huge central display of purple and white flowers. It was the kind of hotel where everything was marble and polished wood, where you felt like you were worth a million. In Selena's case, she was. Her uncle's death two years before had left her a rich woman.

  The next day they set off for Mount Nebo, 40 kilometers south of Amman. The road south was modern blacktop, busy with heavy truck traffic. The Land Rover ran smoothly over the pavement.

  The day was hot and clear. Once out of the city, the desert stretched in all directions, a harsh landscape of sand and rock that sent shimmering heat ripples into the air under the brilliant sun. Selena wore a loose blue scarf around her neck and a white cotton blouse that set off her tan. There was a brown leather pouch on her belt. A calf-length cotton skirt and hiking boots completed the outfit. The gun was tucked away in the pouch. Her violet eyes were hidden behind dark brown sunglasses. Wind from the open window ruffled her hair.

  Nick had opted for jeans, a short-sleeved shirt and a light jacket to conceal his holster. He wore Ray-Bans against the relentless light. The air smelled of the desert, dry and clean. It probably smelled like this when Moses was here, he thought.

  "We're right in the heart of the Old Testament," Selena said. "Moses is supposed to be buried where we're going, on Mount Nebo. This whole area was fought over for centuries. The Israelites, the Moabites, the Ammonites, the Byzantines, the Nabateans."

  "You wonder why," Nick said. "Who would want it? This is a desolate place. Look at it. Sand, rock, sun. Hell, the nearest water is the Dead Sea. Reminds me of parts of Utah or Nevada."

  "You won't find anything like Las Vegas here," she said.

  They turned west at Madaba, a town famous for elaborate Byzantine mosaics. From there it was another ten kilometers to Mount Nebo. The road leading up the mountain was paved in a herring bone pattern of gray-blue and light stone, bordered by stone curbing and tall Eucalyptus trees on both sides.

  They had come to one of the most famous places in the Bible.

  They parked and walked the rest of the way to the top, where a chapel had been built in the 4th Century CE to commemorate the death of Moses. A Byzantine church had followed two hundred years later. Now it was a Franciscan monastery, a focal point of anger for the Muslim extremists. A shelter had been erected over the ruins of the old church to form the new Memorial Chapel.

  A low wall of limestone blocks marked the edge of the summit. A tall, modern sculpture of Moses' staff rose like a silent sentinel into the sky. Before them stretched the desert battleground of the three great Western religions.

  The Holy Land.

  "Hell of a view," Nick said. "You can see all the way to Jerusalem from here."

  "Is that all you can say?" she said. "A hell of a view?" She shook her head.

  "What do you expect me to say? All I know is that a lot of people died here for thousands of years because they had different names for God. They're still dying. It's as senseless now as it was back then."

  Selena changed the subject. She pointed to the left at a large body of water. "That's the Dead Sea. And over there you can just make out the West Bank of the Jordan."

  The sun beat down on them, hot and searing. "It does give you a sense of history," Nick said. "Imagine walking through that wasteland thousands of years ago. It must have been tough."

  "Let's look inside the church."

  They walked to the building. Nick stopped and bent down to tie his boot. "Don't look around. We're being followed. There's a man wearing a yellow shirt and a ball cap behind us. He was at the airport and I saw him again at the hotel."

  "He could be a tourist," she said. "We're not the only ones that want to come here."

  "Maybe."

  They stepped out of the bright sun into the cool shade of the chapel. It was open on the sides. The limestone ruins and broken columns of the original building were covered by a wide, modern roof. A dozen flat wooden benches were placed on each side of a mosaic tile walkway decorated with repeating rows of peacocks. Sunlight streamed through windows in the roof, making the stones glow with soft color. Broken columns lined the side of the aisle.

  "This is beautiful," Nick said.

  Selena was surprised. She hadn't expected him to say that.

  "Yes, it is."

  "There's something about the light on the stone
that makes this place feel peaceful."

  She touched his arm. It was a good feeling, something they felt together. Nick smiled.

  At the far end was a simple altar made of stone. An ancient mosaic cross was set into the wall above it, a symmetrical design of interweaving loops. To the right of the altar was another area with a mosaic floor. A sign said it had been laid down in the 6th Century.

  The tile floor showed two men with animals on ropes. One man led an ostrich, the other a zebra and a spotted camel. Above the men was a shepherd under some trees, with a goat and sheep. At the top of the mosaic, another shepherd fought a lioness and a soldier hunted a lion.

  "That's some floor," Nick said.

  "Kneel at the feet of the shepherd," she said. She got down on her knees. Nick watched her. He looked at the floor.

  "There are five trees where you're kneeling."

  "You're right."

  "That could be the five signs Nostradamus meant."

  "Five trees? That doesn't tell us much."

  "Why would he make it easy? Maybe it's about something besides trees."

  She climbed to her feet. "We'd better see if anything else fits."

  They spent the next two hours exploring and found nothing that hinted at the Ark or five signs. Aside from the view, the chapel and the mosaics, there wasn't a lot to see. The man with the ball cap was nowhere in sight. Nick decided he was just being paranoid. It was an old habit.

  "Let's go back to the hotel," Selena said. "I need my laptop and an internet connection to research those trees. They must mean something."

  They got in their car and drove back down the mountain. The man in the yellow shirt and ball cap watched them go. Then he took out his phone and made a call.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Selena had been on her computer for almost an hour.

  "I know what the five trees stand for but I'm not sure it helps much."

  Nick waited for her to explain.

  "It's a Gnostic symbol. There are several possible meanings. One is that they symbolize purification of the five senses, a metaphor for gaining union with God. Jesus is supposed to have said there are five trees in paradise and that whoever knows them will find eternal life. You come across it in the Gospel of Thomas and other Gnostic texts."

  "I don't remember a Gospel of Thomas."

  "It's one of several books that were kept out of the Bible."

  "Why didn't they keep it?"

  "It doesn't tell the same story as the others. The Gnostic texts were all considered heretical. They tell a different story. Gnostics believed in a direct knowledge of God. No intermediaries."

  "No priests?"

  "Right. If you're building a church where you want to be in charge, you can't have people deciding on their own what God wants. You need to make sure someone acts as the middle man."

  "So young and yet so cynical," Nick said.

  She shrugged. "I didn't come up with that idea. Anyway, that's what the trees symbolize."

  "That still doesn't tell us where to look."

  "What if we're on the wrong track about the trees?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I've been thinking the clue was what the trees symbolized. That doesn't lead anywhere useful. Now I think Nostradamus meant something else. I still think the trees are the five signs in the quatrain."

  Nick got up and looked out the hotel window at Amman. "Okay." he said over his shoulder. "If it's not what the trees mean as a symbol, why write a quatrain about them?"

  "To draw attention to the shepherd?"

  "The shepherd is just a shepherd. You kneel there and see the trees. The trees are part of the mosaic. What else is there, if it's not the trees?"

  "The animals," she said. "The zebra and lion and the others."

  He turned back to face her. "African animals. Maybe Nostradamus means that the Ark is in Africa."

  "Ethiopia," she said. "The city of Axum. There's a chapel that's supposed to hold the Ark."

  "I've heard of that," Nick said. "If it's there, it isn't lost, is it?" Nick pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. "We don't know anything. We can't run around Africa looking for this. Let's make some assumptions."

  "Feel free."

  "The first assumption is that the quatrain is a genuine clue to the location of the Ark, right?"

  "If it isn't, we've wasted a lot of time."

  "Tell me a little more about Nostradamus."

  "Like what?"

  "You said he always hid the real meaning of his quatrains because he was afraid of persecution."

  "Yes. That's why it's so hard to interpret them."

  "Did he mention specific places like Mount Nebo in the prophecies?"

  "Often."

  "Were those places symbolic?"

  "Sometimes. What are you getting at?"

  "What is it that's important about Mount Nebo?" Nick said.

  "It's where Moses was shown the Promised Land by God, and where he's buried. I don't see where you're going with this."

  "What if the clue isn't about the trees, but about Moses as the shepherd of his people?"

  "You think the shepherd in the mosaic is Moses?"

  "No. I think Nostradamus wanted to make the association with Moses."

  "How does that help?"

  "What's the first thing you think of when you think of Moses?"

  "That's easy," Selena said. "The Ten Commandments."

  "Right. He gets the Commandments from God and then eventually he gets to Mount Nebo. The clue is about Moses. That's assumption number two."

  Selena looked at him. "You could have been a preacher," she said. "All this biblical thinking. But I still don't get it."

  "Assumption number three is that the clue is really about the Ten Commandments. Where Moses received them."

  "He got them on Mount Sinai. You're saying that you think the Ark is on Mount Sinai?"

  "If not the Ark, then a clue to where it is."

  "Nick, that's a real stretch. Besides, even if you're right there's a complication."

  "There's always a complication. What is it?"

  "No one is sure exactly which mountain is the one where Moses got the Commandments. Assuming the whole story isn't just a story."

  "It's not in Egypt, on the Sinai Peninsula?"

  "A lot of biblical archeologists don't think so. I don't see how the Ark could be there anyway. That's one of the most picked over mountains in the world."

  "Then where else would it be?" Nick said.

  "When you read Exodus it says there was thunder and lightning and a cloud of smoke on the mountain."

  "That sounds like someone writing in a little dramatic effect."

  "But what if it wasn't for effect? What kind of mountain has smoke and thunder?"

  "A volcano. Are there any volcanoes in Egypt?"

  "No. But there are in Saudi Arabia," Selena said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nick had Harker on the satellite phone. He told her what they'd figured out.

  "Come home," she said. "Something like this needs planning."

  "Then you're going to send us after it?" Nick asked.

  "I'll think about it. Come home." She ended the call.

  "Pack your bag," Nick said to Selena.

  "She wants us back in the States? What about the Ark?"

  "We need a mission plan. I'll call the desk and tell them we're leaving."

  Ten minutes later they walked out of the entrance to the hotel. A taxi pulled up. They got into the back seat.

  "The American Embassy," Nick said, "then the airport." They needed to leave their weapons behind before they got on a plane.

  The cab pulled away. Nick and Selena were quiet in the back seat. Nick watched the streets of Amman roll by. After a few minutes he said, "This isn't the way to the Embassy."

  "Are you sure? We don't know the city."

  "I'm sure. Driver," Nick said. "Where are you going?"

  The driver was middle eastern looking, which was
no surprise. He wore a skullcap. He had black hair and dark brown, liquid eyes and a beard. He looked at Nick in his mirror. "American Embassy, no worry. I take short cut, save you money."

  They entered a run-down district. The streets were narrow, the houses crowded close to the road. The walls were scrawled with graffiti and crude flags. There were no westerners about. The cab slowed for people in the street. Faces turned as they passed, peering in at the foreigners. Their expressions were unfriendly. Nick's ear began itching.

  He leaned over to Selena and spoke in a low voice. "It's trouble. Get ready to bail out of the car. Don't shoot unless you have to."

  She nodded and slipped her pistol from her belt pack.

  The street opened onto a large square surrounded by low hills. A white mosque with a tall minaret dominated one of the slopes. Shops, houses and stalls lined the sides of the square. Yellow signs and green banners with Arabic writing hung from the buildings.

  They moved into the square. The driver slammed on the brakes and had his door open and was out and running before Nick could react. A white Volkswagen burst into the square from the street on Selena's side of the car. A blue Toyota pickup came at them from the street ahead. A van entered the square behind them.

  People began running away.

  It wasn't a good sign.

  "Out!" Nick yelled.

  He rolled out of the car. The Volkswagen sped toward them. Someone leaned out and opened fire with a machine pistol. Selena ducked down. The bullets shattered the windows of the taxi and sprayed fragments of glass over the pavement. She wormed her way across the back seat and dropped onto the ground next to Nick. Someone with an AK reached out of the passenger window of the Toyota coming at them. Nick fired three quick rounds. The windshield starred and the man snapped back in his seat. His gun went flying. The Toyota kept coming.

  Nick entered the zone.

  Everything slowed to a crawl. He could hear Selena firing at the Volkswagen, the sound rhythmic, steady, muffled as if underwater. Nick aimed at the windshield of the Toyota coming at him and began squeezing off rounds. He watched the barrel of his pistol rise with each shot, the slide come back, the ejected case float through the air. He heard the flat sound as each bullet hit the windshield. The pistol locked open.