“Then what do we do in the meantime? If your grandson is agitating for its use, once you die, he may just win out.”
“That is why I’ve summoned the rabbis to meet with me later. The Ark is to be placed in hiding until God’s will reveals it to whoever may be in need.”
Tamrin’s jaw dropped. “Your grandson will tear the kingdom apart to find it.”
Menelik nodded. “He will, but the plan the rabbis and I have come up with is, I think, sound.” He reached out and took his friend’s arm. “It is you and your family’s task that will be much more difficult.”
Tamrin tensed. “What do you have in store for us?”
“The most difficult task of all. A task that may last until the end of days.”
29 |
Bedford Park, New York City Present Day
Fida smiled at the sight, then quickly angled his laptop so none of the Starbucks customers walking by could see what had him so excited. Normally he wouldn’t be on the Dark Web in such a public place, but he had no choice.
His neighbor had finally enabled his wi-fi security, and he hadn’t had time to find a new unsecured connection.
But that was all about to change.
Soon he could afford his own dedicated gigabit connection.
Dozens of queries for more information were in his secure email, demanding specifics beyond what he had posted as his teaser earlier. Many appeared serious, others were from what sounded like religious zealots rather than collectors, and still others from trolls.
He needed to somehow separate the serious bidders.
Bidders.
He smiled, quickly typing a new message to append to his original posting.
I know where the item Menelik took from Solomon is located. If you know your history, and are serious, deposit USD 10,000 in the account below.
He posted the account number where the Sons of Tamrin deposited his monthly stipend, an account in the Caymans the others couldn’t do anything with beyond deposit money, then brought up the website where he could see the pittance of a balance available to him.
Then gulped as the first deposit appeared, then another and another. Before he had finished his coffee, he had more money than he had seen in his entire life.
His heart hammered with the implications. These were criminals, in the business, who would kill him if he didn’t come through.
A single bead of sweat trickled down his spine.
He snapped the laptop shut.
What have I done?
What had been fantasy was now reality. Serious people had paid serious money, and now he had to deliver. Yet all he could do was provide the names of those that would lead these people to the Ark.
Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer.
The rest would be up to the highest bidder.
30 |
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
“I’ve got hits on our two suspects.”
Chris Leroux turned in his chair located at the heart of one of the CIA’s state-of-the-art operations centers. From here, he and his team of analysts could tap any source of information around the world, run clandestine operations, monitor world affairs and military movements, and pretty much create any havoc they might want.
As long as they had been granted the authority to do so, of course.
“Who are they?” he asked his youngest team member and computer wunderkind, Randy Child.
“The first guy in the garb is Dawit Ganno. He’s traveling on an Ethiopian passport. Arrived from London, departed JFK earlier today, heading back to Ethiopia. The other one is Asrat Fida. He’s an immigrant originally from Ethiopia. He has his citizenship, and works as a janitor at the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church of Our Savior in the Bronx. No criminal record, files his taxes, looks clean.”
Leroux pursed his lips, folding his arms. “Okay, we need to know why these two have taken an interest in the professors, and what the professors are doing in Ethiopia. The Chief has authorized us to find out what we can from the confines of this room. No external resources, at least for now. Not until we confirm they’re in trouble.”
Child grunted. “They usually are.”
“True, but the Chief wants to give them the benefit of the doubt today.”
“He’s optimistic,” said Sonya Tong, his senior analyst.
“I guess his glass is half full today,” offered Child.
“Woke up on the right side of the bed?”
“Got some last night?”
Groans greeted Child’s last one.
He spun in his chair, looking at the others. “What? Did that one cross the line?”
Tong gave him the eye. “Ya think?”
Child nodded. “Okay, note to self. No jokes about the Chief’s sex life.”
“Anyone’s sex life,” added Leroux.
“Amended note. Anyone’s sex life.” He grinned. “Including mine?”
“You have to have one to joke about it,” muttered Tong.
“Ouch!”
Tong high-fived one of the others as laughter rippled through the room.
Child, red-faced, pointed at her. “It’s on like Donkey Kong!”
Leroux shook his head. “No, it’s not. Trace our Ethiopians’ movements, and the professors. I want to know what they’re doing in Ethiopia with that equipment they ordered, and why these two felt it was necessary to break into their home and apparently take nothing.”
31 |
Marseilles, France
“Hey, Alexie, something interesting is going on.”
Alexie Tankov glanced up from his tablet at his second-in-command, Arseny Utkin. “What?”
Utkin sat beside him, the pool of their villa on the French Riviera filled with a bevy of beauties in all shapes and colors, the rest of the team either playing a game of volleyball with them, or in various states of coitus around the deck.
It was a good life.
Far better than the Spetsnaz days.
“Looks like some guy is claiming he knows where the Ark of the Covenant is.”
Tankov tore his eyes away from a particularly voluptuous Nubian girl who had no boundaries whatsoever. “Really? He actually said that?”
“Well, no, but he claims to know how to find what Menelik took from Solomon.”
Tankov sat up, spinning his legs off the lounger. “An interesting way to put it.”
“I paid the buy-in for the bid. Just ten thousand. The guy’s obviously an idiot and hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. People would pay ten times that just for a shot at getting their hands on the Ark.”
“Or he’s a genius who just bilked dozens out of ten grand each, and he’ll disappear into the ether by morning.”
Utkin frowned. “So, what do you want me to do?”
“I’ll make some calls. I don’t want to waste our money bidding on dust, but if there’s any chance of this being for real, it could be worth hundreds of millions.”
Utkin eyed him. “The Sheikh? He’s not very happy with us right now, not since we tipped off the Americans and he lost most of his collection.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it was us.”
“He probably suspects it though.”
“True, but something like this could make us square with him again, and he was our best buyer.”
Utkin nodded. “Only if it’s real.”
“Agreed.” Tankov grabbed his phone. “Start monitoring the usual haunts, and pull together anything you can find on this Menelik/Solomon link to the Ark.”
“You got it.” Utkin rose and headed back inside as Tankov dialed his favorite customer that currently hated him.
“Sheik Khalid, I’m pleased to hear your voice. I was concerned you may have fallen out of favor in your kingdom.”
He was greeted with a growl. “You have a lot of nerve calling me.”
“You aren’t still sore about losing the Amber Room, are you?”
“If I ever find out it was you, you’ll rue the
day you met me.”
Tankov smiled. “Trust me, if what I might have found for you is real, you’d forgive me even if I had defiled all your wives.”
“What have you found?”
The eagerness and greed were obvious to anyone, and Tankov’s smile spread.
All is forgiven.
32 |
Milton Residence St. Paul, Maryland
Milton couldn’t take it any longer, his back aching, his fingers fidgeting, his mind so preoccupied with thoughts of his friends, he hadn’t accomplished a lick of work all day.
He grabbed his phone and called Tommy Granger.
“Anything?”
“No, not yet.”
Milton cursed, then decided a line needed to be crossed now that there was a criminal element involved with the break-in. “Do you still have his call history?”
“Yup.”
“There was a call to Italy. Give me the number.”
There was a pause as keys were tapped. “Well, look at that. How did you know?”
“I saw it on your screen.”
“Good eye, Deano. Well, umm, are you sure you want to do this? I thought you didn’t want to violate their privacy.”
“Just give it to me!”
“Umm, yes, sir.” Tommy’s reply was meek, and Milton immediately regretted snapping at the kid.
“Listen, Tommy, I’m sorry. I’m just scared for my friends. This is getting more serious than we first thought.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“I can’t say. In fact, I think it’s best if you back off. We’ll let the pros handle this one.”
There was another pause. “Pros, huh? As in, umm, pros?”
“Exactly.”
Tommy whistled. “So, this is serious.”
“It could be.”
“Then do you really want me to stop digging? I mean, I’ve helped these pros out before.”
Milton shook his head. “You’re going to no matter what I say, aren’t you?”
“So, you do know me!”
Milton groaned. “Fine. Just keep a low profile.”
“I always do.”
“Good. Now give me that number.”
Milton jotted it down then ended the call, immediately dialing Italy, his breath held.
“Giasson.”
Milton sighed in relief, his suspicions confirmed. “Hi, M. Giasson. This is Gregory Milton, Jim Acton’s friend.”
“Yes, of course, Dean Milton of St. Paul’s University. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to say this, but, well, I’m concerned Jim and Laura may have stepped into it again, so I had someone pull their phone records, and noticed Jim called you.”
“Yes.”
Milton sensed some hesitation. “I was wondering if you know what they’re doing in Ethiopia.”
There was a long pause, and Milton wondered if the line was still connected. “I got the sense Jim didn’t want anyone to know we spoke, but if he’s in trouble—”
“I think he is. Two people broke into their house soon after they left, and took nothing. It was as if they were searching for something.”
“That’s disconcerting.” Giasson sighed. “I can’t tell you much, Greg, but I can tell you what I suspect.”
Milton tensed. “And that is?”
“I think they may have found the Ark of the Covenant.”
33 |
Bedford Park, New York City
Fida sat in a corner booth and horribly failed at suppressing his grin as his wallet, bulging with cash for the first time in his life, dug itself into his bony ass.
He reveled in the discomfort.
Just with the buy-ins deposited, he was already richer than most in his homeland, but this was only the tip of the iceberg.
When this is done, I’m going north to see an actual iceberg, and never feel the heat of the desert again.
He frowned. After over a decade of living in New York City, he had experienced every form of weather he could imagine, including the shock of a cold winter, and hated to admit it to himself, but he did miss the heat of his homeland. While the winters were fun the first few times, they quickly became annoying and something he hated after time.
Now I can afford to head south to avoid them.
He grunted, taking a sip of his upscale coffee, no expense spared this time, his regular barista asking him if he had won the lottery.
In a sense, he had.
But he had to keep his mouth shut in this neighborhood. Flashing Benjamins could mean a knife in the gut or a bullet to the back of the head.
Just like back home.
He opened his backpack, removing the bottles of water piled on top, then pulled out his laptop. He returned the bottles to his pack, remembering when he had first arrived here from the wilds of his meager existence, and how he had marveled at the tap in his apartment that had an endless supply of clean, cool water. It had been one of the most fascinating and unexpected things he had discovered in his new home.
There’s something to be said about never being thirsty.
And he was rarely hungry. If he budgeted wisely, he was well fed, though sometimes, near the end of the month, things turned a little meager in quality. He always found it ridiculous that it was more expensive to eat healthy in America, than it was to eat junk food.
One dollar hamburgers, six dollar salads.
He took another sip of his coffee as his laptop booted up, then positioned the screen so no one could see what he was doing.
Then took a bite of his muffin, something he hadn’t had in months, treats like this a luxury he could ill afford.
He moaned aloud, eliciting giggles from the teenage girls at the next booth. He flushed, slouching in his seat as he logged in to the auction site.
His heart skipped a beat at the messages waiting from those who had already paid, demanding more concrete details otherwise there’d be consequences.
This was a mistake.
He shifted in his seat, the bulge of a thousand dollars in cash reminding him of why he was doing this, and why he couldn’t possibly stop.
Cash.
Money.
Enough to change his life.
He could walk away now. They’d never find him. But he wanted more. He wanted the American dream. He wanted to be rich, to never worry about going hungry or cold again, to never thirst for anything.
He wanted it all, the Ark be damned.
What did it matter? It was a forgotten relic from a forgotten time. His group’s mandate was to destroy it should its discovery not be contained, so if it were okay to destroy it for those reasons, why shouldn’t he be able to profit from it, then allow his brethren to destroy it when those who won the bid came to collect? All he was doing was ending millennia of waiting.
He posted a new message for those who had met the buy-in, uploading a redacted copy of the invoices they had discovered in the professors’ home.
The item is as you suspected. The Ark of the Covenant. Note the measurements for the containment system. The people hired are experts in preserving ancient artifacts. The winning bidder will get their names, and their last known location. Find them, and you will find the Ark. Deposit USD 100,000 to qualify within the next four hours.
His eyes bulged as within minutes, every single bidder had paid the second deposit. He was now a millionaire, and again could walk away.
But now he wanted it all.
He posted another message.
Deposits received. Bidding starts at USD 1,000,000 and ends in 4 hours.
He sat back and closed his eyes, dreaming of the millions he would have before the day was out.
34 |
Unknown Location South of Aksum, Ethiopia
At first, Acton felt nothing. The anticlimactic moment shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, the likelihood of this being the real Ark of the Covenant was infinitesimal. In fact, he wasn’t even convinced there ever was an Ark, and if there was, it certainly di
dn’t have the power of God at its beck and call.
Then he thought of the priest’s words about having faith and letting go of the scientist within. He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath as he tried to clear his mind. He believed in God. At least he thought he did. Whether it was the God from the Bible, he wasn’t sure. While many things in the Bible had been proven historically, those were events such as battles or particular leaders being in power. Nothing supernatural or godlike had ever been proven. Those were the types of things that had to be witnessed firsthand.
Yet he had always wondered how, in a time when there was no Internet, little writing, and no forms of modern communication, a man could wander into a town, speak to the people, then leave for the next town, and have his deeds talked about enough that within a few hundred years, the greatest empire the world had ever known had converted to worship him.
Yes, the words might have been inspiring, but they were just words. Give a good speech, move on, people talk about you for a few days, maybe a few weeks, but you’re quickly forgotten.
Heal the blind, the crippled, the diseased, or raise the dead, then move on, people talk about you for the rest of their lives.
He felt a spark.
Something deep down, in his stomach, the unease of anticipation, like the excitement one might feel waiting for a terrifying rollercoaster ride, both excited and nervous at what was to come. The sensation spread, washing over him, his breathing increasing as his entire body tingled.
What’s happening?
It was terrifying, it was exhilarating, it was overwhelming. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had never felt this way before. Was it in his head? Was it something he was creating himself?
Or was it in his soul, delivered to him by God Himself?
And as he imagined what it must have been like for the Israelites thousands of years ago, carrying this holy artifact into battle and witnessing its awesome might, the true power of their god, he could sense the emotions they must have felt, the fear, the awe, the rapturous joy of unbridled faith.
Keepers of the Lost Ark Page 11