Ark

Chapter 27

The Ishak Pasha Palace sat perched atop a mountain ledge overlooking the town of Doğubeyazıt. Located only a few miles from the town, the historical site combined features of Ottoman, Seljuk, Persian, Armenian, and Georgian architecture, reflecting the many changes that had been made to it over the years. Under a different set of circumstances, Maddock would have loved to explore the place, but right now they needed to get away as fast as they could.

“Man, I can’t believe you didn’t at least let us check out the harem room,” Bones said, as they exited the palace and strode out into the late afternoon sun. “I’m all about that.”

“It’s not like there are any women there,” Maddock said.

“Shut it, dude. You’re spoiling my fantasy.”

“We need to find a driver and negotiate a ride back to town,” Dima said. “Tourists will usually arrange for the driver to hang around, but it’s such a short distance we can probably find someone to run us there and then come back for their regular fare.”

“All right. Let’s make it happen. I’d like to get out of here without any shooting,” Maddock said. He turned his head away from the stiff wind that blew in from the East, carrying dust and sand with it. Behind them, the sun shone on the golden brown rocks of the palace, setting the spires, arches, and domes aglow in golden light. “Keep an eye out for anyone who looks like they’re following us,” he said to Bones.

“Already on it.” Bones had the Glock tucked into his waistband, hidden beneath his shirt, and he kept his hand close by it, ready to draw and fire.

“Do you think they killed Faruk?” An icy ball of dread formed in Maddock’s gut as he uttered the words.

“Maybe. I don’t know who else they would’ve been shooting at. Hopefully they just chased him away, but who really knows?”

Maddock hated that an innocent person had gotten caught up in this, but he knew there was nothing to be gained from dwelling on it.

Up ahead, Dima was handing a few bills to a man who sat in an idling van.

“Come on,” she said. “I found us a ride.”

They climbed into the battered van, seated themselves, and engaged in a brief, fruitless search for seatbelts. Dima and Maddock braced themselves in time, but Bones managed to bang his head on the roof as the van lurched into motion.

“Such fun,” he growled, casting a baleful look at the back of the driver’s head.

Maddock’s phone rang and he was pleased to see that his friend Jimmy Letson was on the other end of the line. Jimmy was a journalist and an accomplished hacker who had helped Maddock more times than he could count.

“Hey Maddock,” came Jimmy’s nasal voice, “what’s up?”

“Not much. Just got chased by armed men through a hidden passageway, found a secret trapdoor, and escaped through a dungeon,” Maddock deadpanned.

“Cool,” Jimmy said, as if this happened every day. “I’ve done some checking for you, and I’m sorry to say you probably don’t owe me a bottle of scotch this time.”

“Struck out?” Maddock asked.

“On the Trident, yes. I couldn’t really confirm anything you don’t already know. They’re an antiquities company, at least that’s their front.”

“Are you sure they’re a front?”

“Considering I have had zero success hacking into their system, yes. Why would antiquities dealers need a firewall that would put the federal government to shame?”

“Fair enough. Did you learn anything?”

“Not really. I got the file on Daniel Tyson, but it’s just his service record in the government. We already knew he used to work with Tam Broderick back in the day and then moved on the park service. One thing weird about the Trident — nothing about their corporate structure is publicly available, not even the name of their CEO.”

“That is weird.”

“I already said that. Anyway, I worked my magic and I came up with the name of the man who might be their leader.” In true Jimmy fashion, he paused for dramatic effect.

“Just tell me,” Maddock said as their driver turned a sharp right that sent him banging into the side of the van.

“Ibrahim Shawa. He’s a guy who presents himself as a religious guru and claims descent from Noah’s son, Ham. He lives high on the hog and, rumor has it, he’s a powerful man who has connection to Boko Haram.

“Great. A jihadist.” Maddock grimaced. “Anything else?”

“Not about the Trident, but I did manage to hack Robert’s credit card account, and I know where he was going next.” Another pause.

“Jimmy, you know it drives me nuts when you keep making me ask for information.”

“Why do you think I do it? Anyway, when he left Turkey, he was planning to fly on to Rome.”

“Great, because that’s not a big city or anything,” Maddock said.

“Somebody’s grumpy today,” Jimmy chastised. “Think about it. He’s looking for some kind of Noah’s Ark crap. There’s only one place in Rome he was likely to visit. The place where the most secret records of Christendom are supposedly kept.”

“The Vatican. That narrows it down but it also complicates things. If we're talking about the Secret Archives I don’t think there’s any way we will be able to get inside, much less find what we’re looking for.”

Located in Vatican City, the Vatican’s secret archives was the central repository for all papal records. The archives were officially owned by the Pope until his death, at which time ownership was passed to his successor. The archives also contained account books, correspondence, and a myriad of documents the church had collected over the centuries. While the archives were not secret in the sense that they were hidden, they were deemed private and only a handful of researchers were given access to them each year. No one outside the highest levels of the Catholic Church truly knew the full extent of its holdings.

“This is where you are going to want to thank me,” Jimmy said. “I’m thinking at least a pint bottle of Wild Turkey will be in order.”

“Let’s hear what you’ve got. If it’s no good, you’re getting Boone’s Farm.”

“I also hacked his email and I can’t find any record of Robert seeking access to the secret archives, but he did have somewhere specific he wanted to go. In addition to the plane ticket, he booked a spot on a very special tour — a tour where there’s really only one thing to see.”

Maddock listened as Jimmy gave him the specifics. He thanked his friend and ended the call, his mind racing.

“What is it?” Bones asked.

“I know where we have to go next, and we’re going to need some help to get there.”