God's Lions - The Dark Ruin

by John Lyman

  “As well as can be expected given the information we have to go on. I was planning on calling you tonight with an update. We’re beginning to think Eduardo was looking in the wrong spot for whatever it was he was looking for.”

  There was a long silence at the other end of the line.

  “Your Holiness?”

  “Yes ... I’m still here, Cardinal. I’m afraid I have some disturbing news for you. Eduardo Acerbi suffered an apparent stroke today at his home in Babylon.”

  “Eduardo ... a stroke?”

  “Not too surprising actually, considering his age. We must be sure to keep him in our prayers.” The pope paused again, always a sign to others that he was choosing his next words carefully. “I must tell you something else, Leopold ... something I probably should have told you sooner. Eduardo called me when you were still hiding out in the mountain cabins before Christmas.”

  “Excuse me, Your Holiness. Did you just say Eduardo called you?”

  “He did ... on the day he left France for Turkey. He and my father were friends.”

  Leo gripped the phone, his green eyes staring off into space. The pope’s father and Eduardo Acerbi had been friends? The silence now came from Leo’s end of the line.

  “Leopold?”

  “Why have you never mentioned this to me before, Your Holiness?”

  “At the time, any connection between myself and Acerbi would only have made things more complicated. The fact that my father knew Eduardo was nothing more than pure coincidence. They were just business acquaintances, but with everything that was going on at the time, people would have seen conspiracies around every corner. I wanted your mind to be clear ... without doubt. I was as surprised as everyone else when he suddenly surfaced last year after his disappearance forty years ago. I honestly thought he was dead like everyone else. I only met him a few times when I was a child.”

  “Why did he call you?”

  “To be honest, I believe he was seeking some kind of absolution for having to take the life of his son, Rene, although he denied that was the reason. He said he was calling to make a plea for his other son, Adrian. He seems convinced that the boy is not who we think he is, and he wanted us to call off the dogs, so to speak.”

  “I guess that would make sense, Your Holiness, especially since Adrian appears to be nothing like Rene. Personally, I’m having a hard time believing it myself. I think we’ll know more when we hear from Lev Wasserman and his team in Patmos. They’re following up on a particularly interesting lead they discovered in the code.”

  “Watch your back while you’re in Turkey, Cardinal. I have a bad feeling about all of this, especially with the timing of Eduardo’s stroke. Would you like me to send Francois with some of his Swiss Guards?”

  “No, I think our original plan of keeping a low profile is still the way to go. The Carmela is due to arrive here tomorrow with the rest of the team. If it looks like we’ll need any additional backup I’ll give Francois a call.”

  “That’s your decision, Cardinal. Just don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  “I’ll be careful, Marcus. Thank you for calling. It’s good to hear a friendly voice out here in a strange land.”

  “Keep me updated on your progress, Leopold. I’ll keep you in my prayers.”

  Leo found himself staring straight ahead, still clutching the phone in his hand when the line went dead and the phone erupted in a series of annoying beeps. To Leo, it seemed that life was full of beeps. Beeps to remind us when the phone was off the hook, beeps reminding us to fasten our seat belts, beeps when things were backing up. Maybe whatever they were looking for would erupt in a series of beeps when they found it. The thought made Leo smile as he laid the phone down and switched it off.

  He remained sitting at the edge of the bed, thinking back to his brief meeting with Eduardo at the farmhouse in Foix the year before. Leo had felt a genuine fondness for the old man and had wanted to speak to him again about the site in Turkey, but for some reason Eduardo had refused to answer his calls. Now, with news of his stroke, it seemed as though Leo’s questions might never be answered.

  Standing, Leo stretched before heading for the shower. It was almost time for supper, and he could only imagine the effect this news would have on the others as he toweled himself dry and slipped on a black dress shirt and a pair of tan slacks.

  Unlike the night before when everyone had gathered around a long table in the courtyard, small groups of people were scattered in small alcoves around the central courtyard. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Leo peered behind gossamer curtains as he walked past the separate alcoves, finally spotting Mendoza sitting with Evita and Dr. Diaz in a corner space filled with candlelight.

  “Ah ... Leo. You’re starting to behave like a Spaniard with your little siestas.”

  “I wish I could sleep, but at least I have time to think while I lie there trying to drift off.” Leo paused to watch the moving shapes cast by flickering candles against the stark white walls. “I just received a call from Pope Michael. Eduardo Acerbi suffered a paralyzing stroke today at his home in Babylon.”

  “We know,” Evita said, patting the cushioned seat beside her. “Come, sit ... have a glass of wine with us.”

  “Spanish intelligence?”

  “We received a call from the Madrid station chief an hour ago.”

  Grasping the offered wineglass by the stem, Leo collapsed down into the deep cushions that lined the wall next to Evita. Taking a long sip, his mind was gripped by thoughts of what might be lying in wait for them in the hills a few miles away as a slight breeze pushed the gossamer curtains deeper into the room, hinting at forces beyond. Surely, he thought, the same breeze that drove the curtains inward was linked together with other winds that circled the Earth, and while a simple breeze could be a presence barely felt, at other times it could be fierce, as in a brutal storm that created great havoc and left unimaginable carnage in its wake. Was the force that awaited them in the hills outside Orencik just a breeze, or was it a full-blown storm? Was it benign, lying just beneath the surface, or was it fierce, ready to spring forth across the land to crush anything in its path? Whatever it was, they would soon find out, because he and his team were about to enter the eye of a potential maelstrom.

  Running his fingers through his thick, gray-tinged hair, he was happy to be in the company of people he trusted and loved. It reminded him of his youth in rural Pennsylvania when he would sit with his father and uncles on Sunday afternoons before they all headed back down into the coal mines early the next morning. Up in the fresh air of the rolling green countryside, all was peaceful and calm, while down below, beneath thousands of feet of solid rock, black dust swirled around loud machinery, waiting for that one spark that could ignite an underground inferno.

  Setting his empty wineglass on the table, Leo leaned back in his cushioned nest and stretched. “Before we proceed, I think we need to meet with Lev and the rest of the team onboard the Carmela. We have no idea what we’re facing out there in those hills, and I want to spend some time with Daniel going over as much of the Bible code as possible before we continue. Somewhere there is a clue to what we are facing, and we’d be fools to rush in without being better prepared.”

  “I agree with Leo,” Mendoza said. “I think we’re on the right track by focusing our search in a different area, and there’s no sense in rushing things, especially when we’re facing something that could potentially be very deadly.”

  “Also, our presence here is obviously no longer a secret,” Leo admitted. “So I’ve decided to call the Carmela and ask Nava to pick us up in the chopper tomorrow. I believe the time has come for us to meet with Lev.”

  Evita leaned in close and spoke softly. “Who will you be taking with you?”

  “You, of course ... plus Morelli and Javier.”

  “That’s four. The chopper only holds three passengers.”

  “Their new helicopter is larger. It holds six.”

  Evita smoothed a wisp o
f long black hair from her face as her eyes met with his. “I need to speak with you alone, Leo.”

  Taking the hint, Mendoza and Diaz both rose. “I think we’ll grab some food and meet you two back here in a few minutes,” Mendoza said, downing the remainder of his wine.

  After they left, Evita looked down at the tile floor without speaking as the tears began to flow. “Do you still love me, Leo?”

  Stunned by the question, Leo reached out and touched her arm, only to have her move away as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

  “Of course I still love you!” he said. “Why would you ask such a question? What’s wrong?”

  “Because I happen to know the pope has given you his permission to marry, yet you still haven’t asked me. You ask if something is wrong. Well let me ask you ... is it?”

  “It hasn’t been made official yet. I was waiting ...

  “The official announcement doesn’t preclude your asking, Leo. I thought at least you would have brought the subject up by now.”

  “I’ve been forced into a delicate balancing act here, Evita. I had planned on giving you a ring when I ask you to marry me, but I can’t be seen shopping for an engagement ring until the Vatican formally announces the pope’s decision. I wanted it to be a surprise away from all the intrigue we’ve been living with lately.”

  “But that’s just my point, Leo. In your position there will always be intrigue, and everything you do is dictated by the Vatican while I sit in the shadows like some kept woman until everything is official.”

  Leo reached for the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt this way.”

  “That’s the other part of the problem, Leo. You’re so wrapped up in events that you don’t have time for us. Don’t get me wrong ... you’re an important man with important problems, but I won’t be put on the back burner indefinitely.”

  “But you’re with me now. You’re just as involved in all of this as I am ... we’re in it together.”

  “Together means being man and wife.” Evita took a deep breath as the tears began to flow again. “I think I need some time alone to think things out.”

  “Just what exactly are you saying?”

  “That I need time to myself for awhile. We’ve been thrust together in a situation that forces us to cling to one another for comfort in the face of a terrible threat. I don’t want it to be like that. I want us to be free to live our lives out of the shadows away from all the drama we’ve been forced to endure for the past few months. Maybe then we’ll both be able to see things more clearly.”

  “Now it’s my time to ask,” Leo said, taking her by the hand. “I have to admit that I’m a little rusty when it comes to matters of romance, but are you still in love with me?”

  “Yes ... oh yes. The problem isn’t you, my love. It’s your position, and I’m feeling a little confused and overwhelmed right now.” Removing her hand from his, she stood and faced the curtains. “I wanted to tell you before dinner that I’m flying back to Spain in the morning. I need to get away from this place. Something’s not right. I can feel it. Maybe I just need a few days in Madrid alone in my apartment with my books.”

  Leo followed the strong curve of her back with his eyes, knowing that she had obviously thought this through before telling him of her decision to leave. She wasn’t the type of woman to create drama to gain attention.

  “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know yet. I hope you find what you’re looking for on Patmos. I’ll call you from Madrid.” Without waiting for him to reply, she disappeared through the billowing curtains, leaving a bewildered and saddened Leo alone with his thoughts.

  CHAPTER 11

  The Carmela’s tiny landing pad grew larger as Nava set her new helicopter down on a big blue H painted inside a white circle on the top deck. As soon as the helicopter’s rear door slid open, Leo and the others were greeted with a blast of humid sea air mixed with the smell of jet fuel as they made their way down a narrow set of stairs behind the bridge to the yacht’s high tech communications room.

  “Leo!” Lev Wasserman exclaimed, jumping from his seat. Looking over the Cardinal’s shoulder, he spotted Morelli and Mendoza. “Anthony ... Javier! It’s good to see you two safely back where you belong. We’ve been worried sick about you out there in that awful place ... we’ve heard rumors about that part of the country.”

  “Unfortunately the rumors are true, but our work remains unfinished,” Mendoza responded.

  “Then you’ll be returning?”

  “We have no other choice, Professor.”

  “And where’s the lovely Evita?”

  “She flew back to Spain this morning,” Leo said, ignoring the puzzled stares. “Family matter.”

  “I’m sure it’s only temporary,” Lev said, backing away from the subject. “Let me catch you all up to speed on what we’ve been doing here in Patmos. Daniel found some coordinates in the code that led us to a specific cave, and we’re hoping it has some connection to the site in Turkey. If so, we may be able to find out what Eduardo was searching for. Also, there’s something else. We’ve come across some information that may confirm your suspicions that Eduardo was looking in the wrong place.”

  “In the code?” Mendoza asked.

  “No, this time we’re using some good, old-fashioned detective work. We already know that the Turkish workers he hired believed he left without finding anything, and a few nights ago, in a bar down the street from the house you are staying in, one of them began to talk after a few drinks with one of Danny Zamir’s men.”

  Leo’s eyes narrowed. “One of Danny’s men?”

  “Yeah, he’s been keeping an eye on you at my request,” Lev winked. “Anyway, the worker said that something very interesting was buried in the hills outside the Turkish village of Orencik, and the villagers there have been, shall we say, less than cooperative in opening up about it for some reason.”

  “We know,” Leo frowned. “We visited with the village elder yesterday and were basically shown the door.”

  “Sounds like you’re one step ahead of me,” Lev shrugged. “What did you find out?”

  “They’re afraid,” Morelli said. “It’s nothing more than simple fear. I’ve seen it before on other digs in this part of the world. Some places have ancient curses attached to them, and this one seems to have the mother of all curses hanging over it.”

  “He may have saved your lives. The worker who spoke to Zamir’s man told him that people who went wandering around the hills outside their village usually didn’t come back.”

  A shaft of light fell over the group as a bearded young man with long brown hair opened the door and stepped into the darkened communications room. Wearing khaki shorts and a loose-fitting white shirt that seemed one size too large, Daniel Meir closed the door and stood facing the new arrivals. “Thank God they fixed the air conditioning. I heard the chopper land. I figured it was you guys. Did you tell Leo how we discovered the cave?”

  “I haven’t had time. Why don’t you do the honors?”

  “You’re not talking about the same cave John wrote Revelation in, are you?” Leo asked.

  “No,” Daniel replied, reaching forward to flick on a computer screen. “That was our first inclination, but we found the coordinates of another cave in the code. Here, I think you’ll find this interesting.”

  Crowding around, they all saw a page from Genesis flash up on the screen. At the top of the page they saw the word Patmos which was followed by the phrase cave of the sign, and at the bottom of the page were some numbers they had guessed were geographical coordinates.

  “We followed these coordinates a few days ago and discovered a hidden cave concealed behind some tall boulders and thick underbrush.”

  “Cave of the sign?” Morelli scratched his head as he looked around at the others. “That’s pretty cryptic. Any idea what it means?”

  “We have no idea.” Daniel’s responses were
usually monosyllabic bursts; a reminder to others that they were dealing with a man who lived in a world of mathematics and secret codes—a world where the spoken word was seen as a tiresome necessity when he was forced to separate himself from his work to speak to other people.

  “Do you think it might be possible that John wrote something else around the same time he wrote Revelation?” Morelli asked. “Something he left behind in a different location to be discovered later on?”

  “That’s an intriguing possibility, Bishop,” Daniel replied, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up into his thick brown hair. “But like I said, at this point we just don’t know. The coordinates you’re looking at are the ones that led us to the cave here on Patmos, but I found something else on another page just before you landed.”

  Daniel punched a few more keys on the keyboard and a new page scrolled across the screen. Highlighted in green and circled in red, the words birthplace overlapped another phrase—final transition.

  Morelli threw his hands up in the air. “That certainly clears things up.”

  “It could indicate that the cave we found was the birthplace of someone ... or something,” Lev said, “however we’re not sure these words are even connected to the cave here on Patmos, much less the site in Turkey.”

  “What’s your gut feeling, Lev?” Leo asked. “Anything stirring in that psychic brain of yours?”

  Lev cast a downward glance as he pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and stuck the unlit roll of tobacco in his mouth. “I’m afraid my little psychic voice has remained silent since that day in the chapel under the Vatican. As you may recall, Leo, I had no such visions last year when we were being pursued by Rene Acerbi. It appears that either my little psychic well has gone dry or I’m being blocked for some reason. I’ve never fully understood that part of me, and as a man who’s dwelt in the worlds of both mathematics and archaeology for most of my life, I’m as lost as anyone else on the subject. When it comes to things like psychic visions, we’re leaving the world of science behind and entering an area that’s never been fully explored.”