But your primary obligation is to the Church. Isn’t it?
He bowed his head, clasping his hands in front of him.
Lord, what do I do?
11 |
The First Temple Jerusalem, Kingdom of Israel 10th Century BC
Saul strode with purpose, accompanied by his son and a dozen of the young man’s most trusted friends, all about to be sent on Solomon’s fool’s errand. Above them, in the temple, the leaders of the kingdom were in prayer for the safe return of their firstborn sons.
But he had no time for that.
Though if anyone were to ask tomorrow if Saul had been in attendance, in his usual position of honor at the front of those gathered, the answer would be a resounding yes. For his trusted servant, of similar build and features, was wearing his clothes, and was surrounded by the fathers of the young men that accompanied them on their mission.
As he strode down the long hall toward the ornate doors at the end, the guards snapped to attention as they recognized him. It was unfortunate that it didn’t matter, for there was only one solution to the problem of them knowing he was here instead of at worship overhead.
“Sir, I must ask what you are doing here?”
Saul came to a stop directly in front of the guards, clearly nervous, but not enough to defend themselves against the swift attack executed by his son and his friends, daggers plunged then twisted into the stomachs of the souls unfortunate enough to have the honor of guarding the Ark in these dark hours.
Saul opened the unlocked door, there no need for security beyond the ceremonial guard, for who would dare steal something that wasn’t theirs to take?
For this was the property of God.
And it would remain so, for it would be used for God’s work. If his son was to be sent to a faraway land to spread to the heathens of the unknown continent the word of God and the wisdom He had given the Jewish people, then this was indeed God’s work, and he prayed he, and the few involved, would be forgiven for what they were about to do.
He stepped inside, the others dragging the bodies after him, then dropped to his knees as a rapturous sense of awe swept through him at the sight of the Ark, an object so beautiful, he gasped for breath as he finally realized it had been held.
“Father, we must act quickly.”
Saul ignored his son for a moment, taking in what he had only dreamed of for so long, this manmade creation, built to the specifications provided by God, far more inspiring than he could possibly have imagined.
A tear rolled down his cheek, a moment of self-doubt entering his mind.
By what right do you do this?
“Father!”
Saul finally reacted to the hand shaking his shoulder, and stared up into the eyes of his beloved son.
He’s why.
He nodded, pushing to his feet, flicking his wrist at the Ark. “Cover it, but be careful to touch nothing but the poles. You must never touch it. Remember that.”
“Yes, Father.”
A large cloth was cast over the gold plated creation, then his son and the others positioned themselves, lifting the Ark. Saul stared at the bodies of the innocent guards, saying a silent prayer, then led them out of the chamber, his heart hammering, the sudden sound of the doors closing behind him enough to make him flinch as he tried to steady his nerves.
He closed his eyes for a moment, begging God for forgiveness for what he had done.
Please stop us now, should you not approve.
He opened his eyes, finding their way still clear, and breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the top of the stairs, no one in sight, the prayer services continuing on the other side of the wall.
Thank you.
And within minutes, the Ark was loaded into the back of a waiting cart, covered in plain cloths, the horses led out by one of his servants, ignorant as to the cargo, with instructions to head out of town.
Where tomorrow, his son and his friends would collect it, and join the large caravan of Jerusalem’s finest as it departed the only home most had ever known.
And entered the wilds of an untamed continent, without the armies of their brothers to protect them.
But with the power of God instead.
12 |
New York City, New York Present Day
“He’s on a flight back home now.”
“You didn’t come back with him?”
Ganno shook his head. Three led the Sons of Tamrin, and he was but one. That meant he had to answer to his brothers, even his youngest, Theodros. “No. He met with two archaeologists earlier today. I think he may have told them, though I can’t be sure.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to continue to monitor them. See what they do, who they talk to.”
“If they’ve been told, you know what must be done.”
“Of course I do, brother. Remember, I’m the eldest. I’ve been doing this longer than you have.”
Theodros chuckled. “Two years longer. Hardly anything to hold over my head.”
Ganno smiled. “You’ll always be my baby brother.” He became serious. “If these professors have been told of the Ark’s existence, their lives must be forfeit before they tell anyone else. I’m going to need help, though. Tell Asrat to contact me immediately.”
“Consider it done. Be safe, brother.”
“Praise be to Menelik and Tamrin, and to our Lord, Jesus Christ.”
13 |
Bedford Park, New York City
Asrat Fida stared at the message on his phone, his heart pounding, a smile spreading. It was a message he had never expected, not after so many years of waiting, so many years of isolation and boredom.
It was the day he had been waiting for.
This is my chance!
When he had volunteered to move to America and live here in case he was one day needed, he hadn’t understood what that meant. He had always been poor. Most in Ethiopia were. But to be poor in a poor country was one thing, especially when surrounded by family and friends who suffered equally.
But here, in New York City, being poor was an entirely different experience. It meant near inhumane conditions in a rich country. He had no money to do anything but huddle in his hovel of an apartment in a rundown tenement in the Bronx. He had no money beyond the meager allowance sent to him monthly, certainly a princely sum in Ethiopia, but a pittance in America—nearly every penny consumed by rent, food, and a phone.
If it weren’t for his phone, he’d have killed himself long ago. They had left him here for over a decade, with almost no word, and no indication of when he’d be allowed back home.
He feared they couldn’t afford to bring him back.
Yet did he really want to go back? Life here was hard, though it was far more interesting than that back in Ethiopia. It could be violent here, dangerous, but if he kept to himself, and made sure he was in before dark, even the hellhole he lived in was fine. He had a cheap television he had found in the garbage years ago that picked up channels with its bent antennae, he had free wi-fi from neighbors who didn’t understand basic Internet security, and he never worried about food or water.
If he thought about it, it wasn’t that bad a life.
Certainly better than what he had left.
It was the loneliness that was killing him.
Stolen wi-fi allowed him to surf the web on his phone, or his laptop for more intensive work, but he rarely interacted with anyone. He had no social life, as he had no money. He supplemented his income with a part-time janitorial job, barely enough for the coffee habit he had developed, and the occasional treat. He hadn’t been with a woman in years, and even that was when he had managed to scrape together enough money to pay for it, an experience he swore never to repeat for the shame of it.
He had no friends, kept to himself, and devoted most of his time to prayer and his assigned task: to learn everything he could about how to help the order, should it become necessary.
He now knew how to pick locks, ove
rride security systems, hack computers, plant listening devices, and more. He studied everything he could think of, and practiced whenever possible. He didn’t consider himself an expert, though he was good enough, honing his skills by breaking into homes and apartments around the area, hacking their computers, then leaving, taking nothing that might alert anyone that he had been there.
He had a few close calls—the only excitement in his life—though had always escaped. He was good. Not the best, not an expert, but good enough for whatever the order might need him for.
And if Ganno were here, one of the leaders of the order, then something must be happening with the Ark.
And if something were happening with the Ark, then this might be the first chance in thousands of years for anyone to profit from it.
He smiled.
For he intended for that person to be him.
He pulled out his laptop and connected to the neighbor’s wi-fi. He activated a Dark Web browser, initiating the first step of a plan he had been working on for years, once he had discovered what was possible thanks to his studying. He posted his message, carefully crafted, on a dark corner of the illicit Internet meant for collectors.
Collectors with absolutely no scruples.
And unimaginably deep pockets.
Pockets that could give him the life he deserved. The life he had never known possible until he arrived on the shores of his new home.
America.
14 |
Royal Palace of King Solomon Jerusalem, Kingdom of Israel 10th Century BC
Saul’s heart hammered as he joined the others gathered in the court, King Solomon’s throne unoccupied despite the order to gather having been issued by him. The room was packed with both nobility and religious authorities, the guard far heavier than usual, as if Solomon expected trouble.
And it could mean only one thing.
His treachery had been discovered.
The fact he stood here among the others, however, told him Solomon had no idea he was involved. For if he did, Saul was certain he’d already be staked and crucified, his family slaughtered before his eyes while he suffered for his betrayal, an example for all to behold lest they think of crossing Solomon in the future.
The room fell silent as Solomon entered, taking his seat. The head of his guard, Abinadab, stood to their king’s right.
“Abinadab, tell them what you told me earlier.”
Abinadab bowed. “Yes, sir.” He squared his shoulders, facing the crowd. “Earlier today, at the changing of the guard for the Ark of the Covenant, the previous shift was discovered missing. I was notified, and upon investigation, discovered blood on the floor. As it is forbidden to enter the chamber containing the holy relic, a rabbi was sent for, and he entered. The bodies of the guards were found inside, stabbed to death, and the Ark of the Covenant was gone.”
Gasps erupted, shocked glances exchanged, Saul ignoring the terrified stares of those few fully aware of what had transpired the night before.
“Who would dare take it?” demanded someone from the crowd.
“And why hasn’t God stricken them down?”
Solomon raised a hand, silencing them, then indicated to Abinadab to continue. “Search teams were immediately dispatched, and every dwelling and building will be searched. The city has been sealed, and no one may enter or leave without being searched. If it is here, we will find it.”
“Surely they would have known that you’d search,” said Michal, a young nobleman who had sacrificed nothing to Solomon’s folly, his own firstborn a mere child. “It can only be an enemy of our people who would do such a thing, and if so, they would have taken it out of the city before we even discovered their blasphemous actions.”
Nods of assent filled the room, Saul’s head bobbing along with them, for Michal was right. His son and the others had taken it from the city immediately upon stealing it, and it was now part of the caravan returning to Menelik’s kingdom, a full day’s journey ahead, the sun now already setting on the city.
Solomon rose, silencing any speculation. “An enemy of our people is certainly responsible, however it is not an enemy from outside the walls of our great city, but from within.”
“Surely not!” cried several, the howls of protest lost on Saul as beads of sweat clustered on his forehead and upper lip, his feet slowly carrying him backward, deeper into the crowd as Solomon’s eyes scanned those gathered for him, he was certain.
“We have been betrayed, my friends, all of us.” His voice cracked and lowered as he dropped back onto his throne. “But mostly I.”
Saul halted his retreat, his eyes narrowing. Solomon’s words were unexpected, and not those the man would have uttered if he knew who was truly involved.
“Who has betrayed us?” asked someone, the crowd hushed.
Solomon’s shoulders sagged and his head drooped. “It can only be my son, Menelik.”
Outrage tore through the room, and Saul sucked in a deep breath as his shaking body found the relief it so desperately needed. He could imagine no better outcome than this. No one in this room had liked Menelik. It wasn’t because of who he was, but because of what his father had wanted for him. And now that Solomon believed his own son had betrayed him, had stolen their most precious possession, any chance of Menelik becoming Solomon’s heir was gone.
And his own family’s involvement would never be discovered.
Solomon wallowed in self-pity for several moments as the anger of those gathered continued to grow, demands for Menelik’s head nearly unanimous. Saul caught the eye of the other fathers involved, all relieved, and they slowly gathered in a cluster of their own, saying nothing lest this glorious stroke of luck turn.
God is smiling on us today.
And He had to be. Clearly, they had done the right thing in liberating His gift to the Jewish people, and sending it with the best and brightest His chosen people had to offer. He was granting them His protection from any who might harm His children, with the knowledge that in time, when His children had fulfilled their task in this foreign land, they would return, with the Ark, to Jerusalem, so it could once again protect all His children from their enemies.
It filled his heart with joy to know he had done the right thing in God’s eyes, and he faced Solomon with renewed vigor, confident in the decision he had made only a day ago.
Solomon raised a hand, his head still low, his eyes staring at his feet. The crowd grew silent, and the man spoke, his voice weak with grief. “I have dispatched riders to find the caravan, and inform the firstborn of Jerusalem of Menelik’s treachery. It will be them who correct this injustice, and return not only the Ark to its rightful place, but the traitor as well.” Solomon lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes staring out at his court. “I will kill him by my own hand.”
Saul smiled as he inhaled deeply, this turning out even better than he could have imagined. All that was needed was for Solomon’s messengers to reach the caravan, and his son would act. If all went well, they might be home before the sun set tomorrow.
God willing.
15 |
Milton Residence St. Paul, Maryland Present Day
“We’re leaving on a quick trip tomorrow. Should be back in a week, I’m guessing.”
Gregory Milton, Dean of St. Paul’s University and James Acton’s best friend, eyed him. “You’re guessing?”
Acton shrugged. “Too vague?”
“What do you think?”
Milton’s wife, Sandra, swatted her husband’s shoulder. “Be nice, dear.” She turned to her guests. “So, where are you two off to this time?”
Acton grinned. “Can’t say!”
Milton threw up his hands. “You’re impossible! You do know you work for me?”
Acton held up a finger. “Personal time. It’s spring break.”
“You’re supposed to be at work on Monday.”
Acton coughed, rubbing his throat. “I feel a cold coming on. Do you want a doctor’s note?”
“Damned right I
do!”
Acton turned to his wife. “Doctor, I need a note.”
Laura Palmer grinned. “Sure thing, darlin’.”
Milton rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of doctor.”
Laura laughed. “Oh, Greg, you’re just one big button that demands to be pushed.”
Sandra ran her fingers through the hair on the back of her husband’s head. “Hon, you are too easy to tease sometimes.” She turned back to Laura. “You two are teasing, right?”
Acton shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We are leaving tomorrow, and should be back within a week, but we can’t say where.”
Milton regarded him. “Why?”
“We promised.”
“Who?”
“The man who asked us to help him.”
“But I’m your best friend.”
“Which is exactly why I can’t tell you anything.”
Milton’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “Is this something dangerous?”
Acton shrugged. “I hope not. Possibly.”
Milton grabbed his beer, draining half the glass, then sat back, cradling it in his lap. “What is it with you two? I can understand when you’re caught up in a dangerous situation, but why, when you know it is dangerous, do you still go charging in?”
Acton made a face. “I’m making sure my biographer has plenty to work with when I’m gone?”
Milton grunted. “They should make a movie of your lives.”
Laura grinned. “A series of movies, like James Bond.”
Sandra cooed. “Idris Elba could play Jim!”
Acton gave her a look. “Don’t get me started.”
Laura reached out for Sandra. “He’s dreamy, isn’t he?”
Sandra agreed a little too vigorously. “I’d like to be stranded on a mountain with him.”
Laura snickered. “I’d rather be stranded in a hot tub.”
Acton’s jaw dropped. “I’m sitting right here!”
Keepers of the Lost Ark Page 5