Keepers of the Lost Ark

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Keepers of the Lost Ark Page 9

by J. Robert Kennedy


  Laura waved a hand, cutting off any discussion. “No. We need to see what the actual damage is before we can know for certain how to preserve it. We have to adjust the equipment to maintain the correct conditions for its current state.” She shook her head. “No, if you want our help, we have to see the real thing, otherwise just take us back to the airport now. You can keep the equipment, but I warn you, if you don’t set it up correctly, you could do more harm than good.”

  Amanuel regarded her for some time before he finally sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Very well. But there is an old saying, Professor.” He shouted something in what Acton assumed was Amharic, and four men entered the room, AK-47s held to their chests. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  24 |

  Upper Egypt 10th Century BC

  Menelik stood on the shore of the Red Sea, staring at the horizon as he shielded his eyes, the firstborn sons of Jerusalem nowhere to be found. It was curious, what had happened, and he had no explanation for it. The sails of all his ships were full, the oars barely used the entire journey, yet the wind had failed the others.

  Why?

  Travel by sea was a novelty for him, but the captains of the vessels they had hired seemed as perplexed as he was.

  Yet that wasn’t what concerned him the most. It was what one of them had shouted, something he must have heard incorrectly.

  You have the Ark of the Covenant.

  He must have misheard the man, yet he was certain enough that he hadn’t, to order the boats to unload on an abandoned stretch of coastline rather than the port, where they might be searched by Egyptian authorities.

  For if they did indeed have the Ark of the Covenant in their possession, and someone were to discover that fact, those who would desire it would stop at nothing to possess it.

  Including killing all his men.

  Even he found his own heart pounding at the excitement as the vessels were unloaded. He knew the fathers of the firstborn had requested the Ark be sent with their children, but Solomon had denied it. There was no way his father had changed his mind, which must mean they had stolen it then hidden it among the supplies and gifts sent by Solomon for his mother.

  Surely Father must know by now.

  Yet if that were the case, wouldn’t he have sent men to recover it? Why had no one come to tell him that thieves were in his midst with the most precious of bounties? It made no sense.

  His eyes narrowed as he continued to piece together the mystery he faced. How was it that he had the Ark? The firstborn seemed certain, yet wouldn’t they have kept it with themselves? When the caravan had been attacked at the rear, the head of his personal guard had ordered them to the boats, the rest of the procession hurrying to follow with the carts.

  But the Israelites had remained behind, as brothers, to fight.

  And that meant their own cargo had remained with them.

  So, if that were the case, why did his men end up with the Ark?

  Tamrin, the head of his personal guard, jogged toward him, coming to a stop. “Your Highness, I have answers to your questions.”

  “Proceed.”

  “After questioning the men, I’ve discovered that a cart was brought forward by the Israelites last night while we rested. The next morning, four of them were in our midst, with no explanation beyond that they wanted to get to know us—some sort of goodwill gesture, I suppose.”

  Menelik frowned. “Why do I somehow doubt that?”

  Tamrin agreed. “When the caravan was attacked, the four Israelites headed for the rear to join their brothers, then when the order was given to make haste for the boats, our men took the cart with them. None are aware of what is on it.” He pointed to a dozen men approaching, carrying a shrouded box, there little doubt in Menelik’s mind what was under it. “As you can see, they found the item.” Tamrin’s eyes narrowed. “May I ask what it is? I thought I heard the Israelite say it was the Ark of the Covenant? What is that?”

  Menelik ignored the question, instead rushing toward the Ark. “Don’t touch it except by the handles!”

  His men froze, confused, all looking to see what they were holding on to, all relieved to see they were already following his orders.

  “Put it down and look away!”

  They complied, and Menelik carefully took a corner of the heavy cloth covering the Ark and lifted it, nearly fainting at the confirmation of what was among their midst.

  What do I do?

  This belonged to his father. To the Israelites. To their god. His god. It had to be returned, but the unloaded boats were already setting sail, their captains eager to return to the open seas or the safety of a port, his own captain warning him that these were Egyptian lands, and they wouldn’t take kindly to a small force landing on their shores outside of a port controlled by them where an inspection could occur.

  It was that exact reason he had ordered the diversion, and it had been a wise move. If the Ark had been discovered by the Egyptians, there was no telling what might happen. But now that he had confirmed it was indeed among them, he had to return it, for there was no way God would want it with him, and not in Jerusalem where it could protect His chosen people.

  “Sir! Look!”

  He turned to find many of his men already staring to the north, hundreds of soldiers on horseback or war-carriage, supported by even more on foot.

  “We must have been spotted bypassing the port,” said Tamrin, giving orders with waves of his arms for the men to prepare to repel the enemy. “They must have sent a contingent to see where we landed.”

  Menelik cursed. The captain had begged him to set ashore north of the port, but he had refused, instead ordering them farther south, hoping to avoid this very encounter.

  He was a fool.

  “There are too many of them,” he muttered, surveying the situation as his men readied themselves. “We can’t win.”

  Tamrin shook his head. “No, sir, we can’t. Only a miracle could save us now”—he gestured toward the departed boats—“or those returning.”

  Menelik grunted. “If you thought it was difficult to get them here the first time…”

  Tamrin chuckled. “You’re correct, of course, sir.” He glanced at his liege. “What should we do?”

  Menelik frowned. “Pray for that miracle.”

  Then a thought struck him, a thunderbolt of energy sending shivers through his body as he turned toward the Ark sitting only paces away.

  “Perhaps a miracle is exactly what we need.”

  “Sir?”

  Menelik gestured toward the Ark. “According to my father, the Ark of the Covenant is the means in which his people harness the power of God to defeat all their enemies.”

  Tamrin’s eyebrows rose. “That…thing can stop an army?”

  Menelik nodded. “Apparently so.”

  “How?”

  Menelik’s shoulders slumped. “I have no idea, and even if I did, I doubt it would work for us. It was, after all, stolen, and never was supposed to be in our possession.”

  Tamrin turned to face him. “Sir, if there’s any chance that thing can work, we have to try, otherwise you will die.”

  Menelik regarded the army amassing in front of them, then checked their rear. They could flee, but they’d be forced to abandon their supplies, and this was Egyptian land. Eventually, they would be caught and slaughtered, and the Ark would fall into their hands, perhaps to be used against their traditional enemy, the Jewish people his father ruled.

  You must try.

  He closed his eyes, praying for some sort of message, some indication from the Jewish god of what he should do.

  A strong breeze swept over him, cooling and calming, and he tingled all over, a smile spreading.

  Thank you.

  His eyes snapped open and he strode toward the Ark. “Have your men fall back and hold their position. Select ten of your bravest men to join us.”

  Tamrin’s eyes widened. “Umm, forgive me, sir, but do you propose twelve of us fac
e that army?”

  Menelik shook his head. “No, my friend, there will be thirteen of us.”

  “Thirteen?”

  “God will be with us.”

  25 |

  John F. Kennedy International Airport New York City, New York Present Day

  “There’s nothing to be done here.”

  Fida regarded Ganno for a moment, the man in charge of their order since the death of his father almost twenty years ago. “So, you think the secret has been contained?”

  Ganno nodded. “To the extent that no one beyond the professors know, yes. We’ll deal with them when they’ve completed what has been asked of them by Father Amanuel.”

  “You’re going to let them complete their work?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t we?”

  “Well, I thought our entire purpose was its destruction.”

  Ganno shook his head vehemently. “Then you’re a fool! The Ark is the holiest of all relics, and was a gift from God Himself. We have no desire to destroy it, and you should know that!”

  Fida stared at his leader, unable to believe what he was hearing. “But it is our sworn duty!”

  “No, our sworn duty is to preserve its secret. For thousands of years, mankind has believed it to have been destroyed or at least lost forever. Everyone assumes it will never be found, and most probably believe it never existed. This is our Lord’s will. And eventually, when man is united under one God, with the seat of power in Jerusalem, the prophecy will be fulfilled as our Lord predicted. But for that to happen, there must be no Ark to be worshipped. Should its existence be revealed, even for a brief moment in time, all the progress made to date will be lost.”

  “But that prophecy is only two thousand years old! Our mandate was given to us by Menelik himself, to the greatest grandfather Tamrin, with instructions to destroy it should it be discovered.”

  Ganno calmed slightly. “Yes, that is true, and is still true. But, my son, can you imagine if one nation today had the Ark? What would other nations do to stop them after its power was demonstrated in battle? We could see nuclear Armageddon. The end times. That is why we were mandated to destroy it should our religious leaders fail in their duty. We can never let it fall into the hands of those who might use it for evil purposes.”

  “But what of the prophecy? Doesn’t that change everything?”

  “Of course not! Jesus never said the Ark must not exist for mankind to unite. He merely said that man must have forgotten about it, that it would no longer be something that made man believe in Him, because an object would no longer be necessary to have faith.”

  Fida’s head bobbed slowly as the teachings that had faded with his isolated life in America returned. “In other words, they must not be using it as a sign of God’s power, but instead merely have faith in God’s power without any symbols or icons to bolster it.”

  Ganno smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Exactly, my son. Whether it is destroyed or not is irrelevant.”

  Fida frowned. “Then why not just destroy it?”

  “Because it isn’t God’s will. He knows what our task is. If He wanted us to destroy it, he would force the priests into breaking their vows, thus compelling us to act.”

  Fida regarded him for a moment, not sure why the man didn’t see what was so obvious. “Don’t you think that’s exactly what has happened here?”

  Ganno stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “Perhaps. And if it has, then we’ll take the action we have sworn to do. But remember, our first job is containment. If simply killing these professors is enough to preserve the secret, then that’s what we’ll do. Destroying the Ark is only a last resort.” He opened the car door, shaking Fida’s hand. “It is time for me to return home. Praise be to Menelik and Tamrin, and to our Lord, Jesus Christ.”

  Fida returned the blessing, then pulled away from the unloading zone of JFK International. He drove for several minutes before getting stopped by a red light. He fished his phone from his pocket and brought up his messages.

  A smile spread.

  I’m going to have more money than Menelik himself!

  26 |

  Acton/Palmer Residence St. Paul, Maryland

  Lee Fang let Acton’s best friend and boss, Gregory Milton, unlock the door to the professors’ residence, then motioned for him to step back. She expected the house to be empty, but she was having the most fun she had had in weeks if not longer.

  I miss this so much.

  She had been a major in the Chinese People’s Liberation Army, part of the Beijing Military Region Special Forces Unit, which had meant constant training and constant action. Now she was an exile, wanted by the government she once served, and all alone in this strange new land, until Kane had reached out to her with an olive branch and a kind word.

  And they had fallen in love.

  She smiled as she entered the humble home, a surprise since the Actons were apparently worth hundreds of millions, Laura having inherited a fortune from her Internet tycoon brother when he died. Yet this home screamed middle-class America.

  “The alarm is still on. Are you sure someone broke in?”

  She nodded. “They reenabled it when they left.”

  Milton keyed in his code, the alarm chirping then going silent.

  Sherrie White stepped deeper into the professors’ home, her weapon drawn. “They obviously didn’t want anyone to know they had been here.”

  “Looks like they did a good job,” said Milton. “It doesn’t look like anything’s been touched.”

  Fang quickly swept the main floor while Sherrie cleared the second. She turned to Milton. “Where’s their computer?”

  Milton shook his head. “They use laptops. They take them wherever they go.”

  Sherrie returned. “We’re clear. No evidence of anyone being here, but we might want to do a bug sweep, just in case.”

  Fang handed her the bag containing their equipment, the experienced CIA agent quickly going to work. “Any idea why they’re in Ethiopia?”

  Milton’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know where they were?”

  Sherrie glanced over her shoulder as she continued her sweep for eavesdropping devices. “We’re the CIA. We know everything.”

  Fang grunted. “Well, I’m not, but Dylan and Sherrie are.”

  Milton chuckled. “The way you hold that gun, if you’re not CIA, then you’re just some other acronym.”

  A wave of nostalgic regret washed over Fang and she turned away, pretending to search the room some more. She loved her life in America, she loved Kane, she loved the two friends she did have, Chris and Sherrie, but it was the fact she could list off her entire social circle with a digit challenged hand, that had her depressed too often. She had no family, no extended network of friends, and no prospects.

  Not even a work family.

  The American government provided her with a generous monthly allowance as a thank you for her sacrifice on their behalf, and it meant she didn’t need to work. But it came with restrictions, including not working in any field that might require her to make use of her unique skill set.

  And anything that might bring her attention to Beijing.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Milton’s voice was gentle, concerned, and she wiped away an escaped tear she hadn’t noticed.

  “Yes.” She didn’t elaborate, her single word bereft of emotion, ending the conversation.

  Sherrie returned, stuffing the bug detector into the bag. “The house is clean. I think they were looking for something and left.”

  Fang pointed to a pile of papers on the kitchen counter. “They ordered some equipment recently, including a diesel generator. It might have something to do with what’s going on.”

  Sherrie examined the pile, photographing each page and sending it to Leroux and Kane. Her phone vibrated while she was transmitting the photos, and she smiled. “We’ve got something from a security camera across the street.” She shook her head. “People really need to change their defau
lt passwords.” She pulled up the footage and held the phone out for the others to see.

  Fang leaned in, the footage showing two black men entering the house, then a jump in the timecode, and the same two men leaving.

  “Well, they look out of place.”

  Fang regarded Milton. “Why? Is this a white neighborhood?”

  Milton’s eyes widened in horror. “No, that’s not what I meant at all!” He pointed at one of the men in the footage. “What I meant was that one’s clothing is clearly East African, and if Jim and Laura just went to Ethiopia, then that’s too much of a coincidence.”

  Fang smiled, always finding it interesting how Americans were so quick to take offense to any perceived slight of a minority group, or defend themselves desperately against any misinterpretation of something completely innocent.

  She noticed it all the time on the news or on social media, two things she had too much time to partake in, finding this national obsession fascinating. It was something that simply wasn’t an issue in China. Political correctness hadn’t caught on yet back home, nor did she see it ever being allowed to get out of control like it was here.

  “What do you think?” asked Sherrie, zooming in on the man in question. “Too much of a coincidence?”

  Fang nodded. “In New York City, maybe not, but here in St. Paul? Absolutely. This is definitely related to their trip.”

  Milton’s head swiveled between the two women. “So, what now?”

  Sherrie led them to the front door. “Now, you go home, report anything to us out of the ordinary, and we’ll try to contact the professors to let them know what’s happened.”

  “Can you identify the men?”

  “If they can be, they will be. The way that one guy is dressed suggests he’s either a recent immigrant, or here visiting, so there should be a record.”

  “Umm, you mentioned things out of the ordinary.”

  Sherrie stopped and turned to face the hesitant Milton. “Yes?”

  “Well, umm, when Tommy hacked their phones to let me know where they were, I noticed that one of the last calls on Jim’s phone was to Italy. Rome, I think.”

 

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