by Alex Lukeman
"You are truly a first-class bitch," Nick said. "You can't let it go even on the day of our mother's death, can you? Daddy's little girl finally gets to balance the books."
"How dare you!" Shelley flushed pink.
The nurse stared at them open mouthed.
"Where is my mother?" Nick said to her.
"She's still in her room, Mister Carter. But I think..."
"I don't care what you think."
Nick pushed his sister out of the way and walked down to his mother's room. Someone had pulled the sheet over her face. He folded it back. Her cheeks had sunken in, all the tension had gone from her face. It wasn't peaceful, it was just the absence of anything. There was no one there. Whatever she had been was gone.
He sat down next to the bed and stared at the body. He wanted to say something. No, that wasn't right. He wanted to feel something, but all he felt was a kind of numbness.
I'm sorry, he thought.
Gently, he folded the sheet back over her. He walked back out to the entrance. Shelley and her husband were standing outside. She had always taken their father's side. She still did. Shelley had been daddy's girl. Carter senior had never gone after her, only Nick and his mom. Shelley had spent the last couple of years trying to get his mother moved into a home so she and her husband could get their hands on her house, but Nick had blocked her.
Rage at his sister welled up inside. He didn't trust himself to speak. He walked past her and got in his rental car and drove off. Arrangements for the funeral had been in place for months. There was nothing he had to do. The hospice would notify the funeral home.
Nick decided to drive up to his property in the foothills. He hadn't been back since the night the cabin burned. He hadn't wanted to come back. For a while the place had been a refuge from the madness of his job. Then the madness had followed him there.
It was past noon by the time he came up the familiar gravel road and pulled in where he'd always parked. The blackened remains of the cabin rose from the weeds. He got out of the car and walked to where the porch had been. He heard something, a low noise. He listened. It came again, a plaintive meow.
A portion of decking had escaped the blaze, raised off the ground. Nick got on his knees and peered underneath the scorched planks. An orange shape lay underneath, just beyond the edge.
"Burps," he said.
He reached under the boards and laid his hand on the cat. The fur felt matted and stiff. Nick worked his hands underneath and gently slid the cat from under the ruined deck. Burps began to purr, a raspy, sputtery sound that was half his normal volume.
The thick orange fur was stiff with dried blood. There was a long gash along his hindquarters, a tear along his side.
Shit, Nick thought. He stroked the cat behind his ears. He felt a wave of affection for the ragged animal.
"It's okay big guy, I've got you," he said. "You need a vet. Come on."
He cradled the cat in his arms and stood. Burps had appeared one day out of the woods and adopted Nick and later, Selena. He'd always showed up when Nick came to the cabin. Nick had called him Burps because he belched like a human, loud. Once it had been loud enough to save his life. In a way, Burps was like a part of the team.
He was a big cat but he'd lost a lot of weight. He kept purring as Nick carried him to the truck. Nick laid him on the seat and pulled a blanket out of the back of the cab. He put Burps on the blanket and folded it part way over him. He closed the door, got in the driver's side and headed back down the hill.
That evening he called Harker and told her he'd be back after the funeral.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Selena held Burps in her lap. His hind leg was wrapped in a bandage. He purred and drooled on her jeans past his one front tooth.
"He's still weak," Nick said. "The vet said he'd probably been lying there for a few days without food or water. Might have been a dog that got him. It took 20 stitches to put him back together. He's full of antibiotics, too."
"He's getting old," she said. "It was only a matter of time before something caught him. What are we going to do with him? He can't stay here, he's a Tom. Once he recovers he won't be happy inside like this."
She was right. In California, Burps had been king of the woods around Nick's cabin. He'd lived in the open all his life.
"I couldn't leave him in California, he would have died. I was thinking he could live at the Project. Lots of room outside, mice to chase, a fence to keep the dogs away. Trees to climb, if he wants. Kind of a perfect cat retirement home, if you ask me. We owe him. It's why I brought him back East."
As if he knew what they were thinking, the cat looked up at Selena with half-open eyes and gave a loud, contented belch.
"That would work." She looked at him. "What's the matter? You've got that serious look you get sometimes."
"I've been thinking about what you said. About seeing someone. I made an appointment with a counselor for tomorrow afternoon."
"You did?" She was surprised. She hadn't thought he'd do it.
"He's on a list of people with security clearance. He specializes in PTSD and he was in Afghanistan. That's one reason I picked him. I couldn't talk to someone who hasn't been through it. They wouldn't understand."
As Selena petted the cat, she felt uncertainty twist in her gut. Things are going to change. If he goes to the first appointment. If he keeps going. She wanted him to go. Things couldn't go on like they had been, she was certain of that. But no one could predict what it would stir up.
She'd have to wait and see.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A spiral staircase behind a three inch steel door led down into the Project operations center. Except for the lack of windows and the absence of external noises, the room could have been anywhere in the normal world. The walls were painted a light peach color. Soothing landscapes hung on the walls, Selena's doing. The ceiling was high and light, painted off white. The room felt comfortable and spacious. In essence, it was a luxury cave.
Nick, Ronnie, Selena, Lamont and Stephanie sat at a table facing a wall monitor displaying a large map of Saudi Arabia. Stephanie had a keyboard and laptop in front of her, linked to the Crays in the other room.
North of Saudi Arabia lay Iraq and Kuwait. The northwest was bordered by Jordan and the tip of Israel. West was the Sinai Peninsula and Egypt. South was Yemen. After Yemen came Oman, Qatar, Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates. On the west lay the Red Sea and on the east, the Persian Gulf. Iran was not far away.
Nothing but trouble, Nick thought.
"Here's the problem," he said. "All we've got is speculation and guesses. People have been looking for the Ark for a long time. Some of them looked in Saudi Arabia and no one's ever found anything that matters. We can pick a volcano, but we might as well throw darts at the map. It's a waste of time without knowing more. Any ideas how we should proceed?"
"If we knew the route Moses took, we might be able to pin down the mountain where he got the Commandments," Ronnie said. "He didn't have the Ark before that."
"You're assuming the story in Exodus is true, or at least based on facts."
"We have to start somewhere."
Selena said, "No one knows the route, just that the Exodus started in Egypt. The Israelites head east and God parts the waters of the Red Sea."
"How come this mountain is supposed to be in the Sinai?" Lamont asked. "They wouldn't need to cross the Red Sea to go there."
"Depends on where they started from," Selena said. "If they started in the south of Egypt, they might have crossed it. It's possible they started from an area northeast of modern Cairo. If that's true, they wouldn't need to cross the water. The story about the Red Sea could be just that, a story to illustrate God's power and protection."
"You know," Nick said, "the more I look at this map, the less I buy the idea the Ark is in Saudi Arabia. Put yourself in Moses' shoes."
"Moses didn't wear shoes," Lamont said. "He wore sandals."
Selena rolled her eyes. "Wha
t are you thinking, Nick?"
"Moses had thousands of people following him. Women, kids, animals, whatever they could carry."
"Go on."
"If you're Moses, you want to get out of Egypt as quickly as possible. Look at the map. What's the best route?"
"East," Ronnie said. "Due east."
"Right. So the Israelites head east. If they start north of Cairo they don't need to cross the Red Sea. There were trade routes back then, people knew where things were and they knew how to get from one place to another without getting lost. There's no reason for Moses to enter what's now Saudi Arabia. That means Mount Sinai can't be an Arabian volcano. Selena, where's the traditional location?"
"In the south of the Sinai Peninsula, near the tip."
"Why would they go there?" Ronnie asked. "That's completely out of the way. It doesn't make sense."
"Forty years wandering in the desert, right? Isn't that what happened?" Lamont said.
"The forty years was after Moses went up the mountain," Selena said.
"We're getting off the track," Nick said.
Selena took a sip of water from a bottle. "It would make sense to follow one of the trade routes from Egypt. That way there would be known quantities, like water and shelter, firewood, things like that."
"I can show the routes," Stephanie said. "Give me a minute."
She entered a few keystrokes. Colored lines in purple, green and black appeared on the map.
"Those are the main routes at the time of Moses. The top line is called the Way of the Philistines," she said. "The Bible says they didn't go that way."
"Take it out," Nick said. "If we're going to use the Bible as a guide we have to be consistent."
She entered a command and the purple line disappeared. That left the green line and the black one. The black line wandered down the western edge of the Sinai peninsula to Mount Sinai and up again, until it crossed the third route in green.
"We've already decided the traditional Mount Sinai isn't going to give us much. Let's go with the idea Moses took the shortest way," Nick said. "If that's right, then we can take out the black line and the traditional mountain. Go ahead, Steph."
She moved her mouse, clicked. The black line disappeared.
"The green route heads into Jordan," Stephanie said.
"Are there any volcanoes on that route?"
"Doesn't look like it." Stephanie pressed keys. "Nope."
"Dead end," Lamont said.
"All right." Nick rubbed his forehead. He had another headache coming on. "We're not going to Jordan or anywhere else without better intel."
He looked at his watch. His first counseling appointment was that afternoon.
"Everyone go home, clear your head. I'll tell Harker where we're at. Steph, see if you can find anything on that green route that matches the biblical story. Meet back here at 0800 tomorrow."
Nick rode back with Selena to D.C. Her Mercedes still had that new car smell of leather and wax. Better than the smell of the car was a hint of the perfume Selena wore.
"What's that scent you're wearing?"
"You like it?" She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. "It's called Baccart Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebe."
"That's a mouthful."
"It's supposed to invoke the mystery of ancient Egypt. The perfume comes in a bottle of Baccarat crystal."
"That's good?"
"Very good."
Nick had been glancing in his side mirror. He sighed.
"Not again."
"What, not again?"
"We're being followed. Silver Lexus, four cars back."
She looked in her mirror. "I see him."
"Two men. He's keeping his distance."
"I can lose him."
"Not yet. We don't need another shootout on the Beltway. Be ready in case he speeds up."
"You're sure he's following us."
They were coming up on Alexandria. "Let's find out. Take the next exit."
The Lexus followed them off 495 into Alexandria. Selena cruised up South Henry Street.
"Head for the waterfront," Nick said.
She turned right. The Lexus was still behind them. It had dropped back a block, trying to stay unnoticed. Signs pointed to Founder's Park.
"Park over there in the lot. Let's take a little walk."
She slipped the Mercedes into a spot. They got out and began walking. The path forked around a stand of trees in full leaf. The gray-blue waters of the Potomac were visible beyond the trees, wide and calm.
He thought of the story about George Washington and the Potomac. He looked at the river. No way Washington threw that silver dollar across.
The day was warm, the air filled with the scent of fresh cut grass and the damp smell of the river. Clusters of people strolled about, enjoying the fine weather. A group of sullen teenagers passed them. The boys gave Selena lewd looks. Nick smelled marijuana as they went by.
The men from the car had followed them into the park. Nick felt a light sweat starting. He wanted to take off his jacket but he didn't want to upset the citizens. Shoulder holsters and guns tended to do that.
The path they were on led to a long pier that angled left and then straight ahead. A river tour boat was docked at the end, getting ready to sail. Passengers were going through a caged ticketing area. Nick headed for the pier as if they planned to board.
"Want to take a boat ride?"
"You'll miss your appointment."
"Spoilsport. All right, let's see what they'll do if we turn around."
They did an about face and walked toward the two men. Both men had short hair and looked as if they worked out a lot. Their expressions were unfriendly. They both wore jackets. One man was taller than the other. He needed a shave and he wore a blue sport coat. He reached inside his jacket.
Everything after that was instinct.
As the gun came out, Nick gave off a piercing shout he'd learned from Selena. It froze Blue Coat in the act of raising his pistol for a split fraction of time, long enough. Nick got his pistol free and fired at the center of Blue Coat's body. He missed and fired again and watched blood blossom on the shirt. Blue Coat staggered backward and fell. Chaos and screams erupted in the park. Panicked people scrambled to get out of the way.
The second man pulled his jacket away with his left hand, exposing a MAC-10. He fired a one-handed burst as Nick swung toward him. Someone cried out on the pier. Selena shot him before he could get off another burst. She shot him again. He doubled over and fell to his knees. He tried to lift the gun. Nick and Selena fired at the same time. The man fell to his side. He twitched and stopped moving.
They walked over and kicked the guns away from the bodies. Both men were dead. Nick holstered his gun.
"I hate this," he said.
"Better call your therapist," she said. "You're going to be late."
Nick looked down at the bodies. "Gives me something to talk about."
"That's not funny," she said.
"No," he said, "it isn't."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"No IDs on the two in the park," Harker said. "The car is a rental. The license and credit card they used are fakes. Good fakes, I might add. I wish you hadn't killed them."
"We didn't have a choice."
"I had to call in some serious pressure to get you out of there. I'm not sure it's over yet. Everyone is nervous about guns going off in public places. The spin is that those two were terrorists and you were Federal Agents. Some people think you're heroes. Some people want to make an example of you."
"Are we subject to political correctness now? Those two called the play."
"I know. I'll take care of it. The real question is who were they and why did they go after you."
"They picked us up on the Beltway," Nick said. "They had to know we were coming from here."
"So much for our new anonymity. I guess it was just wishful thinking." She picked up her Mont Blanc. "The quality of the fake IDs indicates pros. We're running the prints
to see if anything turns up."
"It has to be about the Ark," Selena said. "The same people who sent gunmen after us in Jordan."
"Someone who has a lot of resources," Nick said. "Serious connections and serious money. You don't just hire a truck or two full of guys with automatic weapons by walking into the local rent-a-terrorist agency. Like you said, pros."
"I don't understand why they keep trying to kill you. Wouldn't it make more sense to grab you, find out what you know?" Harker turned her pen around in her fingers.
"Maybe they already know what we know. Or they know where the Ark is and don't want us to find it."
"Are you any closer to pinpointing a location?"
"Only by elimination. No matter what we decide, we'll still be guessing. We'd get better odds in Vegas."
"Give it your best shot, Nick. We can't let it drop. Things have gone too far."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Counseling.
The word was uncomfortable. In Nick's mind, going to a shrink meant you'd failed. It meant there was something you couldn't handle on your own. He'd been handling things on his own as long as he could remember. He'd told Selena that and she'd said maybe that was the problem. It had made him angry.
It was because he'd struck out at Selena in his sleep that he was here in this office. That, and the fact that whenever he thought about his mother he felt nothing. Wasn't he supposed to feel something? It was as if he'd buried the feelings somewhere and forgotten where he put them. All he felt when he thought about her was guilty for not feeling more.
He was having the Afghanistan nightmare every night. He was tired. Tired meant he could make a mistake that would get someone killed. He felt stretched out like a high, tight wire over a bottomless pit. If counseling could make the dreams go away, it was worth the confrontation with his pride.
The waiting area was quiet. The carpet was wall to wall, a soft gray under foot. He sat on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on his knee. The furniture was comfortable. A copy of a Paul Klee painting hung on one wall. Nick liked Klee. Seeing the picture there helped. Someone who liked Klee couldn't be all bad. Maybe it would be okay.