Starling’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “You’ve got my attention.”
“Sir, what do you know of the Ark of the Covenant?”
Starling’s eyes shot wide. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Aliens, yeah, but the Ark?” He shrugged. “I don’t know, the usual, I guess. Just what the Bible and Indiana Jones taught me. Why?”
“You’ve heard me mention professors James Acton and Laura Palmer before?”
Starling nodded. “Of course. They’ve caused us a lot of headaches over the years.”
“Yes, but they’ve also done a lot of good.”
“Which is the only reason I haven’t had his passport seized, and asked the Brits to do the same to hers.”
Morrison chuckled. “You’re a more patient man than I am, Mr. President.”
Starling paused. “Wait, are you telling me they’ve found it?”
“We think there’s a possibility. They’re in Ethiopia now, on a job we believe to preserve some sort of artifact.”
“And you think that artifact is the Ark.”
“We have reason to believe it is possible, though it likely is a fake. Our sources indicate they were hired by a Father Amanuel, who works from a church in Ethiopia in an area of the country known to claim to have the Ark. Dozens of churches make the claim, however, which is why we think it’s a fake.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because at the same time, somebody on the Dark Web has claimed to know where the Ark is, and is offering that information for sale to the highest bidder. Over a dozen have paid six figures just for a chance at the information.”
“Who’s making the claim?”
“An American citizen originally from Ethiopia. We have him on camera, along with an Ethiopian citizen, breaking into the professors’ house after they left for Ethiopia with the equipment required to build a chamber to control the climate within it.”
Starling pursed his lips as he leaned back, folding his arms. “This is very thin, Leif, very thin.”
“But what if it’s true?”
“So, what if it is? An important piece of history is found.”
Morrison shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I think you’re missing the point.”
Starling smiled slightly. “I’ve been accused of worse. Enlighten me.”
“I mean, sir, what if it is real.”
Starling stared at him blankly then his eyes flared. “Oooh, you mean…” His jaw dropped slightly. “Well, we can’t have that!”
“No, sir, we can’t.”
“But how can we know? I mean, let’s say it is the actual Ark, which is highly unlikely, how do we know it has the power of God? I mean, I believe in God as much as the next man, but I’m not sure I believe everything I read in the Bible, especially the Old Testament.”
“I feel exactly the same, sir, perhaps I’m even more of a skeptic. But if there’s even the remotest possibility, we have to do something. Don’t we?”
Starling shook his head then rose, pacing in front of his desk. “If the wrong people got their hands on it, and it did have the power of God, the consequences could be devastating. I mean, how do you stop a weapon with the power of God? Nuke it? Would that even work? And even if it did, at what cost?”
“My concern is more what happens if the wrong people simply get their hands on it. What would happen if some Islamist group got it, then destroyed it in public? We could be looking at a holy war. Millions could die.”
“What do you recommend?”
“We go in and take it.”
“And use it ourselves?”
Morrison shook his head. “I would hope not. Maybe we just stick it in a box then in a warehouse.”
Starling paused, staring at him. “Like the movie.”
“Like the movie.”
Starling scratched at his nose, resuming his pacing. “Leif, this is the most insane thing I think I’ve ever heard in the office or anywhere, but if there’s even the remotest possibility even part of it is true, we could be looking at serious trouble for this nation and its citizens.” He stopped and turned to face Morrison. “Leif, do whatever it takes. I want that thing in American hands and no one else’s.”
39 |
Marseilles, France
Alexie Tankov sat with the others from his team of professional art acquirers, their services available to the highest bidder, though that wasn’t their only criteria. The collector had to be willing and able to preserve what they acquired.
They weren’t destroyers of history, though they didn’t mind killing if it became necessary.
He was not the good man his mother thought him to be.
Though he wasn’t pure evil like some of his competitors.
Nor were the others, all former Spetsnaz, Russian Special Forces. Highly trained, highly motivated, and well equipped, living the dream between jobs, and keeping their skills honed while on the job.
That was why when the proof was offered up after the hundred thousand was deposited, he spotted the problem right away. “Bring up that invoice, the second one with the generator on it.”
His second in command, Utkin, tapped away at his tablet, the large screen they were all watching on mirroring his display.
Could the guy be that stupid?
He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Utkin handed him the tablet and Tankov zoomed in on the blacked out address at the top of the invoice.
And smiled.
“Gentlemen, we are definitely dealing with an amateur here.” He handed the tablet back to Utkin. “Clean that up. Is the person who placed the order who I think it is?”
Utkin worked his magic, and with a few taps and drags, the contrast was adjusted, the weak black marker and the crisp dark of the invoice now clearly different.
Revealing the name of the person who had placed the order.
Laura Palmer.
And the delivery address of Aksum, Ethiopia.
Tankov smiled. “How did I know they’d somehow be involved? Find out where Acton and Palmer are. I’m guessing you can start looking in Aksum. Wherever they are, that’s where the Ark is.”
Utkin chuckled. “Unbelievable.” He frowned. “Do you think the others will figure it out?”
“Probably. If not, they deserve to pay the winning bid.”
Utkin pointed at the screen. “You’re right. Look at the logged in user count. It’s dropping. Looks like they’ve figured it out.”
Tankov shook his head when the number dropped to two. “Us and the seller, I’m guessing.” He sighed. “Let the idiot know why he just lost out on what could have been the biggest payday in history. Then find me those professors.” He turned to the others. “Start prepping our gear and load the plane. I want to be wheels up by the top of the hour.”
40 |
Bedford Park, New York City
Fida stared at the screen, his mouth agape, all the users bidding now logged out except one. His heart hammered as his glorious future, certain only moments ago, crumbled around him.
What’s going on?
They had all paid their ten grand without hesitation, then the hundred.
Then it all went bad.
Fast.
His laptop beeped with a message from the final logged in user, his shoulders slumping as the display showed them logging out a moment later. He opened the message and bit his finger to stop himself from crying out in anger and anguish.
When you redact something, make sure the marker is a little darker. Better luck next time.
He grabbed the printouts of the invoices, then held them up to the light over his booth. And cursed, Laura Palmer’s name clearly legible on one of them, along with the delivery address. He threw the papers against the window then slammed his fists on the table repeatedly as a piteous rage overwhelmed him.
“Sir!”
His clenched fists hovered over the table and his head spun toward the intruding voice, a young waitress standi
ng nearby, putting on a brave face of authority, but clearly terrified at what she might be about to encounter.
He was aghast.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m leaving.” He quickly gathered everything, jammed it in his backpack, then rushed from the diner, but not before tossing several twenties on the table.
He rushed down the street, putting some distance between himself and the embarrassing situation he had created, praying no one had called the police. He had screwed up. Big. His payday would never come, all because he hadn’t properly blacked out the names. He had printed them out rather than edit them electronically, because he had been scared that the original data might be just hidden, and someone in the know might be able to remove his electronic redacts.
He had been a fool.
He froze in mid-stride, causing those behind him to curse at him as he became a stone in the river of humanity.
I have the deposits!
He grabbed his phone, launching the banking app that would let him see his balance.
And smiled.
Well over a million dollars.
It was more than enough for him to escape this life of poverty. If he was smart about it, he could have a little fun, then set himself up for life.
A food truck!
It had always been his dream, at least since he had become acquainted with life in America. What could be better than being outdoors, cooking delicious food, interacting with happy customers, and making money?
It was what he had always wanted.
Independence.
Pride in his work.
He resumed walking, checking the balance once again.
And became woozy, stumbling sideways and almost collapsing before his outstretched hand found the roof of a parked car. He steadied himself, then stared at the phone again.
Account balance: $0.00.
His laptop beeped in his bag and he rushed to a nearby bench, removing it and flipping open the top, his TOR browser still logged in to the Dark Web auction site. There was a new user logged in, and a message. He selected it and tapped his thumb twice to open it.
If you ever want to see your money again, contact us. Now.
He shook as he stared at the phone number at the end of the message. Whoever this was had the power to empty an account only he was supposed to have access to. That meant they were powerful. Dangerous. He should just walk away. Toss the laptop, his phone, everything, and disappear. These were dangerous people he was dealing with, and most likely it was someone who wanted their money back.
Or worse.
But if they just wanted their money back, then why take it all? And why bother contacting him?
Something more was going on here.
And his future dreams were at stake.
He dialed the number.
41 |
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
“It’s him.”
Leroux nodded at Tong as he adjusted his headset. The auctioneer had called quickly, their message only posted minutes ago after they had drained the account. Their new orders, direct from the President, were to acquire the Ark at all costs, and this man might be the key to that, for at the moment, the professors were lost to them in a huge country with few ways to locate anyone.
This call was critical.
“To whom am I speaking?”
The man wasn’t having any of that, though the voice stress analyzer on the display was indicating fear and nervousness. “To whom am I speaking?”
“I’m the man who has your money, and I’m the only one who can give it back.”
“That money is mine! I earned it!”
The display indicated the man indeed thought that was true. “Did you, now? From what I can tell, your little auction has failed. You have no bidders. Probably because you didn’t redact your documents properly. Very foolish. Next time use your computer to redact them, then make sure you flatten the layers. It will remove the original data.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you are clearly an amateur, and I don’t think you’ll ever have need of the knowledge in the future.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a feeling you stumbled upon something and decided to try and make a little money.”
Child snapped his fingers and pointed at the screen. A map was displayed, a red dot pulsating in the center, their subject in Bedford Park, New York City.
Leroux muted his mike. “Roll units to that location, but have them hold back. And see if you can get him on camera.” He reactivated his mike. “Am I right?”
There was a hesitation, but he finally replied. “Yes.”
The trace data appeared on the screen, including the name the phone was registered to, reconfirming just how much of an amateur the man was.
Use a burner phone if you’re going to commit a crime.
But it did reconfirm one thing. It was Asrat Fida, one of their two subjects that had broken into the professors’ house.
“So, Mr. Fida, I need to ask you a few questions.”
The stress indicator skyrocketed. “H-how do you know my name?”
“I know everything about you. Your name, your address, your phone number. That you were born in Ethiopia, you immigrated to the United States over ten years ago, you got your citizenship three years ago. I know everything. Almost everything. What I don’t know is why you were in Professor Acton’s house. But I think I know that now, too. You were looking for those invoices. The real question is how did you know to look for them? Obviously, you were told there was something to find there, and you were told to make it look like no one had searched the house. So, I guess I know the answer to that question as well.” He paused. “What I really want to know, Mr. Fida, is who are you working for?”
“I-I can’t say.” If the stress analyzer could indicate an impending heart attack, the readings now shown were surely it. “I-I’m going to hang up now.”
“Hang up, Mr. Fida, and you’ll never see your money again.”
“You-you mean you’ll give it back to me?”
Got you now!
“Have you hurt anybody?”
“No.”
“Have you killed anybody?”
“Of course not!”
“Did you steal the money?”
“Umm, no, I don’t think so.”
“So, right now, all you’re guilty of is breaking and entering.”
“I suppose so.”
“Then I don’t see any reason why I can’t give you your money back. In fact, how about I give you ten grand back right now.”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure. As a gesture of good faith.”
He muted his mike. “Transfer ten back. This guy’s so blinded by the money, I have a feeling we’re going to get everything we want out of him without having to bring him in.”
“The money’s there,” said Tong.
He unmuted. “Can you check your balance?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
“Okay.”
Child snapped his fingers, pointing at the display, and Leroux smiled, a security camera showing Fida sitting on a bench, a laptop on his knees, a phone in his hand.
Fida smiled.
“When can I get the rest?”
“When you answer all my questions. Truthfully. If I think for even one second that you’re lying to me, I take it all back and buy myself a boat.”
Snickers filled the room.
“Answer honestly, and you’ll be rewarded. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Your name is Asrat Fida.”
“Yes.”
“Why were you in professors Acton and Palmer’s house?”
“To look for, umm, evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Of whether they told anyone what they were doing.”
“And did you find any?”
“No.”
“And what is it they’re doing?
”
“They’re, umm, going to help preserve something.”
“Very good. You’ve earned another ten grand.” He motioned to Tong who tapped a few keys then nodded. “Check your phone.”
He watched as Fida swiped his phone, a grin appearing. “Thank you!”
“Units are in position,” whispered Child.
Leroux acknowledged him with a nod. “Now, what is it they’re trying to preserve?”
“Umm…”
Fida was looking about, clearly unsure of what to do.
“Tell me, or I take the money back.”
“It’s the Ark of the Covenant!” came the hasty reply, money clearly the most important motivator in Fida’s life.
Leroux closed his eyes for a moment, muting his mike, as the room exploded in murmured shock at the confirmation. He held up a hand, silencing them, then unmuted. “And how are the professors involved?”
“They’ve been hired by the Keeper to preserve the Ark. Apparently, it’s in danger of falling apart.”
“The Keeper?”
“He’s the man responsible for preserving the Ark.”
“And what’s his name?”
“Father Amanuel.”
“And what church is he at?”
“He serves several, I think. I’m not really sure exactly which ones. I’ve been gone for so long.”
So far, everything Fida had told them matched with what they already knew. But now came the real questions, the ones they had no answers for.
That meant a little more grease had to be provided.
“I think you’ve earned another ten grand.”
Tong gave the thumbs up and Fida checked his phone then smiled.
“Now, who do you work for?”
Fida said nothing, instead looking over both shoulders. “Umm, I, umm, can’t say.”
“You just lost ten grand.”
“Wait! Okay, I’ll tell you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Too many people know now. It’s all over.”
Leroux wanted to ask him why, but he had more important questions that needed to be answered and didn’t want to stop the man from spilling his greedy guts.
Keepers of the Lost Ark Page 13