The Ark

FIFTY-EIGHT

As he boarded his refueled Lear jet at Heathrow Airport in London, Sebastian Garrett had new appreciation for Cutter’s insistence on backup plans. The original specifications for Oasis had nothing about a submarine docking facility, but Cutter hadn’t liked the idea of being trapped within Oasis by the concrete barriers. When they had switched the contract from Gordian to Coleman, Cutter had convinced Garrett to add the new requirement for the submarine escape dock, and now he was glad he did. Without it, Garrett would be in the custody of the US Army.

Garrett had piloted the submarine to a marina in Orcas Island’s Deer Harbor. There, they stole a sailboat and scuttled the submarine so it wouldn’t be discovered. Then it was an easy sail to Vancouver, British Columbia, where Garrett’s funds in the Cayman Islands secured a chartered Lear, no questions asked. Cutter knew where to procure perfect fake passports.

Locke would eventually find out he had escaped, but Garrett had an eight-hour head start, maybe more. He would be in and out of Noah’s Ark before Locke could determine where he’d gone. By that time, Garrett would have the only other sample of Arkon in the world.

He twirled the USB drive in his fingers and smiled at Svetlana, who sulked at their predicament. She and Cutter had taken the setback harder than he had. Garrett’s serenity came from the knowledge that, like Cutter, he always had a backup plan. The US government would freeze his assets, but they didn’t know about all of his money. With hundreds of millions of dollars still at his disposal, even a disaster of the previous night’s magnitude could be overcome.

Switzerland would become his new haven. The Swiss lab, built under a medieval castle purchased under an untraceable pseudonym, would be able to perform the same function as Oasis. It was not as comfortable, but it would do the job. Once he had the sample of Arkon in his possession, it would take a only matter of weeks to synthesize the new Arkon-C. By the time the authorities figured out where he was, it would be too late.

The only task now was getting access to Mt. Ararat and Noah’s Ark. He knew its location, thanks to Hasad Arvadi, but like Arvadi, Garrett had never actually been there. He had not tried reaching it before now because the Turkish government protected the mountain with zeal. An expedition to the area three years before would have been watched carefully and would have brought unwanted attention to his plans. Now that his plans were exposed, he would have to risk going directly to it. With enough money for bribes and Cutter and the two guards at his disposal, Garrett felt sure that he would be inside Noah’s Ark in less than 24 hours. Then he would take the second Arkon sample and disappear.

Garrett entertained himself by thinking about how he would get retribution for the invasion of Oasis and the delay of his plans. He was a patient man and had a vision for the long term, but that didn’t mean he was beyond exacting revenge. During the weeks it would take to complete his goal to make a New World, he would hire the best assassins money could buy, and Tyler Locke would find out how painful his curiosity could be.

In Gordian’s Seattle laboratory, Dilara carefully pulled the delicate scrolls from the tube with rubber-tipped tongs. A huge examination table had been set up so she could lay it flat, and the humidity of the room was dropped to 25 % to protect the document. To Locke, the cool, dry air felt like a January evening in Phoenix. Grant and Miles stood to the side, watching Dilara spread the document out with her white-gloved hands.

Although time was quickly slipping away, Dilara moved slowly and deliberately. She was firm about protecting the ancient scroll. Since all they needed was the translation, Locke suggested she unfurl the scroll in the lab and photograph it. That way, they could take the photographs with them and keep the original scroll safe. While she prepared the scroll, Locke was busy setting up the high-definition camera in its articulated frame.

The key would be how long it would take Dilara to decipher the language printed in faint script. It seemed to be a primitive variant of Hebrew.

“How old is this paper?” Locke asked.

The hint of a smile continually played at the corners of Dilara’s mouth. She was excited about the archaeological significance of this find, even if it meant the possible end of the world.

“It isn’t paper. It’s papyrus. Same as used in Egypt. Without carbon dating, there’s no way to tell for sure how old it is, but I’d guess at least 3000 years old, pre-dating the Dead Sea Scrolls.”

Grant whistled.

“The scroll itself is a huge archaeological discovery,” she said. “Only Noah’s Ark could outdo it.”

“Let’s hope something in there actually leads us to it,” Locke said. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Just a few more minutes. I have to handle this like you handle explosives. The slightest miscue, and I could reduce it to dust.”

After she was through unrolling it, Locke shot a photo of each section. In turn, the pictures appeared on the screen at the end of the room, five times the original size.

“Can you translate?” Locke asked.

Dilara peered at the first segment. “I think so. It’s proto-Tannaitic Hebrew, the language used in the Copper Scroll of the Dead Sea Scrolls. It’s unusual and not seen often, and it’s very difficult to translate. Only a few people in the world can sight read it. My father was one of them.”

“And lucky for us, it sounds like you’re another.” Locke pressed a button on the room’s phone. “Did you get these photos uploaded, Aiden?”

Aiden’s voice came back over the speaker phone. “Absolutely. I’m transferring them to your laptop. I’ve also begun to parse them. If I can get a translation matrix from Dr. Kenner, we might be able to automate some of it.”

“Good. The goal is to find out anything the scroll says about Noah’s Ark.”

“Oh my God!” Dilara said, still reading.

When she didn’t elaborate, Locke said, “What?”

“There’s a lot more here than just Noah’s Ark,” Dilara said. “It’s a version of the entire book of Genesis. This would be the earliest version ever found of a biblical document. It describes God making the heavens and the earth, the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, but enhanced, in more detail than I’ve ever seen. Remarkable!”

“I hate to interrupt,” Locke said, “but we do have a time crunch. When we come back, you can take all the time in the world to read this. Can we skip ahead to Noah?”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Next section. Next section. Next section. Stop!”

She stepped closer. Her eyes were so wide as she read that Locke thought they would fall out.

“This is it!” she said.

“Does it say where the Ark is?”

“Not exactly, but now I can see why my father was retranslating the Bible. Remember how he had crossed out words and replaced them in certain chapters? For example, this line here could be interpreted as the Ark being within the mountains of Ararat.”

“How does that help us?”

“I don’t know.” She kept reading, then stopped, and a puzzled look crossed her face. “Huh? That’s new.” She paused.

“Will you stop that?” Grant said with a laugh when she didn’t explain. “You’re driving us nuts.”

“Sorry. There’s a section here that’s not in the Bible. It talks about a map.”

“A map to Noah’s Ark?” Locke said.

Dilara nodded. “It also describes two amulets of such power that they can destroy the world.”

“That fits. At least now we know we’re looking for an amulet, although how an amulet can hold a prion disease is still a mystery. Where’s the map?”

“It tells of a city. I can only guess the pronunciation. Something like Ortixisita. In this city, there is a temple called Cur Ferap.”

“Have you heard of them?”

“They sound familiar, but I can’t quite remember. If I had my books here…”

“Aiden, you hearing this?” Locke said toward the speaker phone.

“I’m already looking it up,” came Aiden’s reply. “I’ll try all possible vowel substitutions and narrow my focus to the area around Mt. Ararat.”

After a few seconds, Aiden said, “Got it. There’s a city in western Armenia called Artashat. Originally built in 180 BC as Artaxiasata. It’s well-known for a monastery on its outskirts.”

Dilara snapped her fingers. “Now I remember! Khor Virap! The prison for St. Gregory the Illuminator!”

“You’re good, doctor,” Aiden said. “I’ve got a great picture of it. I’m sending it through to your screen.”

As soon as Locke saw the photo of Khor Virap, he was sure that’s where they needed to go.

“Aiden,” he said, “have them get the jet ready for us. We’re going to Armenia.”

Locke continued to stare at the picture and started to believe they might actually find Noah’s Ark after all. On a hill overlooking a green field was a stone structure with thick walls and a central tower, a fortification that must have been the monastery of Khor Virap. And dominating the horizon in the background, framed against a bright blue sky, was the towering white outline of Mt. Ararat.

FIFTY-NINE

With all of the flying she’d done to digs throughout the world, Dilara Kenner was an experienced traveler, but the toll of the last week, including the latest 20 hours to Armenia’s capital, Yerevan, was too much. She could go without getting on another plane for a year.

She had spent all of her waking time on the Gordian private jet poring over the scroll photographs, trying to decipher anything else she could about finding the map at Khor Virap. Locke and Grant had left her alone to work, and before they had landed, Dilara reported back to them on what she had discovered. Unfortunately, even with Aiden’s help, it wasn’t much.

“You think the map is still there?” Locke asked. “Why wouldn’t Garrett have taken it with him?”

“Because it’s not portable. The scrolls talk of a map of stone. I think that means the map is written on a wall.”

“Aiden did a thorough search in both public and private databases, and he said no one has ever heard of a map like this.”

“Right here,” Dilara said, pointing to a photo of the scroll on her laptop, “it says that the descendents of Japheth, one of Noah’s sons, built the temple as a shrine to God’s forgiveness. One of the amulets and map were kept in a secret chamber that was known only to the worthy. The other amulet was sequestered inside the Ark itself.”

“So the priests at Khor Virap don’t know about the chamber?”

“The temple was razed in a Persian invasion, and the keepers fled without revealing the chamber, which must have been well-hidden. They preserved its location in this document, but they must have perished before they could return and secure its contents.”

“There must be some clue in the scroll to finding the chamber,” Locke said.

“Whoever wrote this feared it would fall into their enemies’ hands, so they used a cipher.”

“You mean the scroll is coded?”

Dilara highlighted a section of the scroll that talked about Khor Virap, then a Jewish temple and now a Christian monastery.

“Notice anything different about this section?” Dilara asked them.

“The spacing and indentation are slightly different,” Grant said. “It’s subtle, but since you pointed it out, I noticed it.”

“Exactly.” She pulled up the photo of the note her father had written to her. “Something about the way my father wrote the note to me seemed odd, which is why I wanted Tyler to photograph it as well. He was sending me another message.” She overlaid the handwritten note over the Khor Virap section. The lines aligned perfectly.

Locke pointed at her father’s note. “The first letter in each line…”

“…is written in slightly more bold print.” Dilara said. “Anyone looking at the note would think he was using a simple transposition cipher where the first letter of each line would spell out words. But whoever tried to decode it that way would go crazy trying to figure it out because the resulting phrase would be gibberish. My father was trying to tell me that the scroll itself used a transposition cipher, and only in this section.”

“So don’t keep us in suspense,” Grant said. “What does it say?”

“It translates to ‘The fifth and eighth stone from the cove reveal. The fourth and seventh stone from the cove conceal.’”

Grant looked doubtful. “They rhymed it in Hebrew?”

“No, that’s me. It sounded better than, ‘The fifth and eighth stone from the cove open. The fourth and seventh stone from the cove hide.’”

“You’re right,” Grant said, smiling. “More cryptic.”

“Any idea what that means?” Locke said.

Dilara shook her head. She’d been puzzling about it, which was why she had taken so long to discuss it with them, but she still couldn’t decipher its meaning.

“My guess is, we’ll know it when we see it.”

Locke shrugged. “Then let’s find out what’s at Khor Virap.”

Dilara was amazed by him. He always seemed to roll with the punches. No matter what happened, he knew he’d be able to figure a way through it. She supposed that’s what made him a good engineer, his ability to solve whatever problems arose, but he carried that confidence into every part of his life. It was why she found him so attractive. She didn’t know where the night they’d spent together would lead, but she savored the memory.

The jet landed in Yerevan, and to keep a low profile, Locke had arranged for an interpreter to meet them with a car at the airport. When they got to the car, Locke gave a wad of American dollars to the interpreter, who gaped at more money than he normally made in six months.

“I hope that will keep our expedition confidential,” Locke said.

“Certainly, Dr. Locke,” the man sputtered in outstanding English. “My name is Barsam Chirnian. I will be happy to help in any way I can.”

“How long will it take to get to Khor Virap from here?”

“It’s only 30 kilometers to the southwest. We should be there within the hour.”

That would put them there around five PM local time.

“Good,” Locke said. “On the way, you can tell us about Khor Virap.”

The four of them climbed into a well-used Toyota Land Cruiser and wound through city streets before getting on a major road south. To their right, Mt. Ararat and its little brother to the south loomed over the plains. Even though Armenians considered the 16,854-foot-tall mountain their own, making it their national symbol, it actually sat across the border in Turkey.

As they drove, Chirnian gave them what sounded like a tour guide spiel about the monastery. Artashat, the town where the monastery was located, was the first capital city of Armenia and remained so until it fell in the fifth century. No one knew the exact date Khor Virap had been built, but it was one of the first Christian monasteries in existence. It sat on the only major hill for miles and had served as an early fortification against invaders due to its strategic position on the Araks River. The site was revered as Armenia’s holiest shrine because of St. Gregory the Illuminator.

Grigor Lusavorich had returned from Israel to his native Armenia in the 3rd century to proselytize the new religion of Christianity. The father of King Trdat III had been murdered by Grigor’s father, so Trdat imprisoned Grigor in a pit at Khor Virap for 13 years, where he miraculously survived untold torture and suffering. When Trdat fell ill, he received a vision that Grigor would be the only one who could heal him. Grigor cured Trdat’s disease, and the king converted to Christianity. In 301, Armenia became the first Christian nation. Grigor was beatified as the country’s patron saint.

In the time it took Chirnian to relate the story of St. Gregory, they had arrived in Artashat. The October afternoon sun bathed the flat plain with a golden hue. Vast rows of vineyards and farms stretched toward the foothills of Mt. Ararat, which climbed into the few wisps of clouds that decorated the blue sky.

The ancient monastery of Khor Virap was perched on the southern end of a crusty mound that lacked any vegetation. The Land Cruiser wound up the monastery’s hillside road until it passed through the main gates. The site’s reputation as one of Armenia’s biggest tourist attractions was well-founded. Even though it was close to closing time, a dozen cars were parked in the lot. They got out and walked through an arch formed in the thick stone exterior walls and up a set of stairs.

They emerged into a central courtyard that held a full-sized church, which Chirnian said was often used for weddings. There were no nuptials going on, but men and women, some in western clothes, others in the native Armenian garb, snapped photos of the church and the mountain that was so famous as the Ark’s resting place. Even though it was a monastery, the monks had left long ago, and it was now administered by priests of the Armenian Orthodox Church.

“We need to see the priest in charge,” Locke told the interpreter.

Chirnian nodded and went to find him. A few minutes later, a priest with a friendly face emerged from the church. He didn’t speak English, but through Chirnian, he introduced himself, shaking Locke’s hand.

“I am Father Yezik Tatilian. How can I help you?”

“Father Tatilian,” Locke said, “my name is Tyler Locke. I’m an engineer from America. Thank you for meeting with us.”

“Are you interested in the architectural history of our monastery?”

“In a way. Have you ever met an archaeologist named Hasad Arvadi?”

Dilara didn’t realize she was holding her breath, hoping that this was the final key to finding her father, until the priest shook his head.

“We have many scientists and historians who come to study the monastery,” he said, “so it’s not surprising I don’t remember him.”

Locke pointed at Dilara, who couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Dr. Kenner is his daughter. We have reason to believe he was here.”

“I’m sorry,” the priest said. “His name isn’t familiar.”

Locke took Dilara’s digital camera and, using the LCD screen, showed the priest an old photo of Arvadi from his days as a college professor.

Father Tatilian shrugged. Locke showed him two more photos, one of Garrett from Forbes magazine and the other of Cutter from the TEC security camera.

The priest didn’t recognize either of them. “Perhaps if you tell me why you are looking for them, it may help my memory.”

Locke looked at Dilara, who nodded. They had to tell him at some point if they were going to get his cooperation.

“We have reason to believe that your monastery holds a secret chamber, one that even you may not be aware of.”

The priest laughed. “This monastery has been here for thousands of years. I’m sure I would know if there was such a chamber. And I assure you there isn’t.”

Locke showed him a picture of the scroll. “This is an ancient document Hasad Arvadi found in northern Iraq. Dr. Kenner has translated it, and it tells of a map to Noah’s Ark located somewhere in Khor Virap.”

The interpreter, Chirnian, paused, not sure if he had heard correctly. When he saw that Locke was serious, he translated. Father Tatilian smiled.

“We often have treasure hunters come through here, searching for the blessed remains of Noah’s Ark, but no one has asked for a map before.”

“Dr. Kenner’s father went missing three years ago. We think he was murdered.”

That wiped the smile from the priest’s face. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Father Tatilian,” Locke said, “did anything unusual happen here three years ago?”

“Yes,” the priest said warily. “Very unusual. Two novitiates had made a pilgrimage at that time and were staying at the monastery. One of them was killed, and the other went missing. He was never found.”

“How was the novitiate killed?”

“Shot. The police investigated, but no one was ever arrested. The case remains unsolved.”

“Any motives?”

“Robbery, most likely. I entered Khor Virap one morning and found the body.”

“It had to be Garrett,” Grant said.

“You know who might be behind this?” the priest said.

“Possibly,” Locke said. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“There isn’t much to tell. It occurred at night when the monastery was closed. Brother Dipigian was found with two shots to the head. We never saw Brother Kalanian again. We assumed he had been kidnapped. For what reason, we couldn’t fathom, and we never received a ransom demand. Not that we could pay much. We take honoraria for weddings and other parties held here, but most of it goes to the monastery’s upkeep.”

“Where was the body found?”

“That was the oddest thing. It was in the pit.”

“The one that held St. Gregory captive?” Dilara said.

“Yes. But if it was a robbery, it was a strange place to take him. As a holy shrine, the pit of St. Gregory is unsurpassed, but there is nothing of value in there. A few candles in an alcove, that’s all.”

Dilara gasped. “An alcove?” The scroll mentioned a cove. The Hebrew could be translated many different ways, including alcove.

“It’s where pilgrims can pay tribute.”

“The fifth and seventh stone from the cove reveals,” Dilara said to Locke, who immediately saw what she meant.

“Father,” he said, “please show us to the pit of St. Gregory.”

At the top of the hill overlooking the courtyard of Khor Virap, Garrett focused binoculars on the figures two hundred yards away. He saw Locke, Westfield, and Kenner with someone who appeared to be an interpreter talking to the priest. He lay next to Svetlana Petrova and Dan Cutter, who cradled a Russian VAL silenced sniper rifle that fired subsonic 9mm rounds. Cutter had acquired the hard-to-get rifle in Armenia along with their other weapons.

“Do you want me to take them out?” Cutter asked.

Garrett had already been to the Ark’s location, and if he’d been able to get inside it, he’d already be long gone with the second amulet. But when he had arrived at the site of the Ark, he realized Hasad Arvadi had tricked him. The old man had been crafty, leaving out key information that would have made the Ark accessible.

When Garrett couldn’t get into the Ark, the next step had been to return to Khor Virap. There must have been additional information about how to get into the Ark that Arvadi had concealed from Garrett. The plan was to photograph every square inch of the map to make sure they missed nothing, and Garrett would find another translator to tell him what the map really said. Finding a qualified translator might take time, so to ensure no one followed in his footsteps, he would obliterate the map.

Garrett and Cutter had been lying in wait to make their move on the monastery, just like they’d done three years before. Then to Garrett’s surprise, Locke and the others had appeared.

Although their arrival had jolted him, he quickly reassessed the situation and realized it might be to his advantage.

“Hold your fire,” Garrett said to Cutter. “Maybe we can get Tyler Locke and Dilara Kenner to do our work for us.”

If Dilara was as skilled an archaeologist as her father, she would be able to decipher the map’s text and uncover what her father had not divulged to Garrett. Garrett would know as soon as they emerged from the pit if they had seen the map and determined the Ark’s location. Then it would just be a matter of following them to the Ark and killing them all once they had shown him the way inside.

SIXTY

The priest led them away from the church in the central courtyard to the small St. Gevorg chapel. It was after 5:30 at this point, and the monastery was closed, so the tourists had been escorted out. They had the chapel to themselves.

To the right of the altar Locke saw a hole with steep aluminum stairs leading down. Father Tatilian climbed down backwards, and the rest followed.

The pit was a cistern, vaguely round, with rough gray stone walls. Even with five of them, there was plenty of room, although it would get stuffy quickly with just the hole above to circulate air. The space was larger than what Locke had imagined when he had heard it was a prison cell, but then again, he couldn’t imagine being confined within it for 13 years. It was a miracle that Grigor didn’t go insane during that time. Maybe that was one of the miracles that qualified him for sainthood.

A standing candelabra had been set up across from the bottom of the stairs. On the right was the alcove Father Tatilian had mentioned. It was six feet tall, with an arched roof, two feet wide and three feet deep. It seemed to have a stone seat inside it, and a stone shelf set back about four feet high.

Locke stepped up on the semicircular dais in front of the alcove and examined it. The stones were crudely mortared, and he couldn’t see any noticeable seams where mortar had been removed. To all appearances, the entire cistern was as solid as the rock it was made from.

“Where was the murder victim found?” Locke asked.

The priest pointed to the floor on the other side of the cistern.

“He was shot in the head twice.”

“And you didn’t notice anything else unusual down here?”

“The police asked me that as well. Not that I could tell, although it was hard to concentrate on anything but the pool of blood that we cleaned up.”

Locke didn’t bother asking about forensic evidence. Even if the killers were sloppy enough to leave fibers or prints, which he seriously doubted, he didn’t think the local police would have had the resources to do any sophisticated analyses.

The novitiate was brought down for a reason, and the reference in the scroll to a cove had to be meaningful.

He counted out the stones from the left of the alcove, starting with corner stone. The fifth and the eighth stones from the cove reveal. The stones that made up the wall ranged from a few inches to a foot across. They had cut the stones to fit what was needed for each space.

He assumed that the key stones would be at eye level, which to people at that time was about five feet. Locke saw that the fifth and eighth stones were both about the same size, large enough to press his palm against. When he examined them more closely, he found a half-inch notch carved into each one in exactly the same place. These had to be the ones.

If the builders had constructed a secret passage, the key to unlocking it would be fairly simple because the engineering and construction methods of that age were rudimentary. On the other hand, the mechanism couldn’t be activated by accident, or it would be discovered too easily.

Two stones. There was a reason for two of them, and Locke thought he knew what it was. He tried to position himself to push both stones simultaneously, but they were so far apart that he couldn’t get leverage with either one.

“Grant, give me a hand here. On my count of three, I want you to push hard on the eighth stone. At the same time, I’ll push the fifth stone.”

Grant got himself in position.

“What are you doing?” the priest asked.

“I think I’m going to show you something about your monastery that you didn’t even know existed,” Locke said.

“I’m ready,” Grant said.

“One. Two. Three.”

They pushed with all their strength. At first, nothing happened. Then Locke sensed the slightest movement of his stone.

“Did you feel that?” Grant said.

“Yes. I think we need to push with equal force. Let up on your side a little. Again. One. Two. Three.”

This time, he could feel the stone begin to move immediately. It slid slowly backward, and so did Grant’s. At the same time, the fourth and seventh stones slid slowly forward. The stones stopped moving when they were pressed into the wall six inches.

Locke glanced at Dilara and saw the same excitement that he felt at their discovery. Father Tatilian, on the other hand, was apoplectic and blurted something in Armenian.

“What’s the matter?” Locke asked the interpreter.

“The priest is very upset,” Chirnian said. “He asks what you have done.”

“I think we’ve just unlocked a door.”

Locke inspected the stones projecting from the wall. Except for the small notches, they were carved to be extremely smooth on all sides and fit into the spaces precisely. The edges on the outside were filed down and covered with a half-inch of mortar to give the illusion that the stones were unmovable parts of the structure.

Locke went to the alcove and saw that the side wall had moved, but just barely. He put his shoulder into it, and the corner of the alcove swung stiffly on a central pivot, revealing an opening on the left. Locke shined his flashlight into the darkness. Stairs led down. A musty smell of decay filled his nose. To the left, he could see the mechanism that sealed the door.

As he thought, it was a simple stone pivot. A wooden one would have disintegrated long ago. The two stones they had pushed were connected to each other, and because of the leverage, pushing either one of them alone would merely cause stress on the pivot, not allowing them to move. But together, the stress was balanced, and the pivot not only pushed the other stones out, but also moved another piece of stone from the door that normally kept it from opening.

To reseal the entry, you would just push the door closed and then push the fourth and seventh stones back into place. Locke marveled at the primitive cleverness of it.

“What do you see?” Dilara asked.

Locke remembered why they were there.

“It’s a stairway. We’ve found the chamber.”

Grant and Dilara broke out their flashlights as well, and Chirnian and Father Tatilian took candles from the cistern.

Locke went down ten steps, and then turned to the right to see twenty more steps. It must have taken a year to dig this out of the sandstone.

He got to the bottom and found himself in another round room, twice the size of the pit. He stopped when he saw what was on the wall opposite him. A map. He played the flashlight over it and could see a carefully drawn outline of Mt. Ararat. Several points of black dotted the map. Next to the map were lines of text similar to those on the scrolls Dilara’s father had discovered.

The flashlight beam came to the end of the text at the bottom of the wall, and Locke saw a foot still encased in a shoe. He ran the light along the body until he reached a desiccated yawning face. The gruesome image was the result of years of slow decay in the dry climate. The brown robes of the mummified remains identified him. The missing novitiate.

The priest and translator gasped at the sight, and Locke heard a yelp from Dilara. Her response to the corpse was unusual for someone who unearthed them for a living. He turned and saw that she wasn’t looking at the novitiate’s body. Instead, she was looking at a second one, in much the same condition.

This body was dressed in western jeans, a collared shirt, and a khaki jacket. The graying hair suggested that the man was older, at least in his fifties. A notebook and pen were on the floor next to him. Then Locke realized who he must be.

In the dim light reflected on Dilara’s face, he could see the horrified recognition as she spoke softly, lovingly.

“Daddy?”

SIXTY-ONE

Dilara knelt on the floor next to her father, and Locke joined her, putting his hand on her shoulder. He knew the feeling of arriving too late to tell your loved one everything you wanted to say before they were gone. The one solace was that she finally had closure. She put her hand on Locke’s and silently wept, her body shuddering with sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Dilara,” he said. She nodded but said nothing.

They rest of them withdrew as much as the small space allowed to let Dilara grieve for a few moments. Bloodstains caked the floor, and Locke saw the source. A bullet hole perforated each of Arvadi’s legs, and another was in his mid-section. His death hadn’t been an easy one. Locke picked up the notebook that had fallen out Arvadi’s hand. It looked as though he had been writing in it when he died. The printing was jagged and forced, not the smooth cursive on the previous note.

The note had only three lines, which were scrawled haphazardly across the page, like they were written in the dark, and they probably were. The last line trailed off. Arvadi must have died in the middle of writing it.

Sebastian Garrett killed me. Shot me to reveal Ark.

Didn’t tell him real entrance. He took Amulet of Japheth.

Don’t tell

Locke peered at the second line.

Didn’t tell him real entrance.

Her father had misled Garrett. But what did that mean? The real entrance? On a 6000-year-old wooden boat, it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t find the right entrance. You’d simply chop a hole in the side and go in that way. It didn’t make sense.

With the pain and blood loss, Arvadi might have been delusional. The last line was useless, but the first two seemed lucid enough. If Garrett had been tricked somehow, they might still have a chance to beat him to Noah’s Ark and find the second amulet before he did.

As much as Locke wanted to let her mourn a little longer, he knew he couldn’t. Even though finding her father was traumatic, Dilara still needed to help them decipher the map.

“I’m sorry, Dilara,” Locke repeated. “Are you going to be okay?”

She took off her jacket and covered her father’s face with it. Then she stood and nodded solemnly. “I knew he was dead a long time ago. But it’s different confirming it. Especially like this.”

“I know.”

“He was so close to achieving his goal. His life’s dream. And Garrett killed him in reach of it.” She wiped away the tears and looked at Locke. “We’re going to get him, aren’t we? We’re going to kill that son of a bitch.”

Locke wouldn’t be upset if Garrett ended up pushing daisies, but feeding Dilara’s revenge would be a distraction they didn’t need.

“We’ll do what we have to do. But first, we need you to finish your father’s work if we’re going to stop Garrett. Do you think you can focus?”

The heat in Dilara’s eyes smoldered for another moment and then faded. She nodded, but the grief was still there.

“Tyler, look at this,” Grant said. He shined his flashlight on a small offering table. In the dust, there was the shape of a round object that used to rest on the table. The amulet. The source of the prion disease.

“Can this be real?” Locke said. “Up until this moment I didn’t actually believe we’d find Noah’s Ark.”

“And now?”

“That map looks pretty convincing. I’m beginning to lose my skepticism.”

Dilara took several flash photos of the map, then focused her light on the text. Several times, her eyes flicked back to her father’s body and the tears would return. Each time, Locke would hold her gently then turn her attention back to the map.

The words were written in the same language used in the scroll. She took fifteen minutes working out the translation before she finally spoke.

“It’s like Garrett said.” Her voice wavered, and her words were punctuated by an occasional sniffle, but her astonishment was apparent. “He told me that the flood was a plague. I didn’t believe him. I thought, why would he tell me the truth? But this says the Amulet of Japheth rests here and contains a horror that almost destroyed man. It was hidden in this chamber in remembrance of God’s wrath, His justice, and His love for mankind, that it was a testament to God for giving humanity a second chance to change our ways.”

“But how could an amulet cause the deaths of everyone on earth?” Locke asked. “How could it be the source of a disease?”

“I don’t know. It says that the flood is captured for eternity inside the amulet. It says to find the true story, you must find the Ark, where the Amulet of Shem is kept.”

“Great,” Grant said. “We’re finally getting to the good part. Where is it? There are dots all over this map. The Ark could be any one of them.”

“The Ark’s resting place is in the eastern face of Mt. Ararat,” Dilara said. “The other marks are false Arks, decoys to throw off anyone who found the chamber but could not read the text. The majority of people in ancient times were illiterate.”

“Got it,” Grant said, pointing at the location on the east side of the mountain.

“Wait a minute,” Locke said, looking at the map, “if the Ark was where this dot says it is, people would have found it years ago. That elevation is lower than the year-round snow cover.”

“The text says, quote, ‘The great vessel in which Noah took refuge from the flood is found in the east flank of Ararat.’”

“You mean, on the east flank of Ararat,” Grant said.

“No, I mean in,” Dilara said.

“This makes no sense,” Locke said.

“The text describes two entrances into the Ark. One that is sealed, and one that is passable.”

“Your father’s last note mentions a real entrance, as if he could deceive Garrett into choosing the wrong one. But how could that possibly keep Garrett from retrieving something from a rotting wooden ship thousands of years old?”

Dilara read further. When she got to the bottom, she staggered backward, as if she had been shoved in the face.

“Oh my God!” she said. “They hid it deliberately. They lied about Noah’s Ark to keep it from being discovered.”

“What are you talking about? Lied about what?”

“Everything.”

“Hold on,” Locke said. “Are you saying Noah’s Ark isn’t on Ararat?”

“In a way, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dilara replied. “It isn’t on Ararat. It’s in Ararat. That’s why no one has ever found the Ark. It’s a vessel, but not the kind that floats. For the past 6000 years, everyone has been searching for giant boat. Noah’s Ark is a cave.”

SIXTY-TWO

“It’s a cave?” Locke said. Now Arvadi’s entrance reference made sense. Dilara had even called Oasis a new ark. He could have kicked himself for not making the connection sooner, but he had been so focused on Noah’s Ark as a ship that he never entertained the idea it could be a cave. “But the Bible says it’s a ship, doesn’t it? That it was made of wood?”

“It does,” Dilara said. “‘Make thee an ark of timber planks: thou shalt make little rooms in the ark, and thou shalt pitch it within and without.’”

“That sounds like a ship to me.”

“We’re using the English translation of something that’s been passed down through thousands of years. It all comes down to translation and interpretation. Think of the telephone game. Little errors in the process can end up as huge errors down the line. I think that’s what happened here. What if Noah’s Ark was the structure inside a cave? A vessel can also mean a container.” She looked back to her father. “I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I listen to him?”

“You couldn’t have known,” Locke said. He considered the language. “The cave must have been the refuge. The words would fit. But we’re talking about a huge cavern. 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide, 30 cubits high. That’s 450 feet long, 75 feet wide, and 45 feet high.”

“You were saying a few days ago that a ship that big in ancient times would have collapsed as soon as it was floated onto water. This explains why it could be so big.”

Locke saw the irony of arguing for the case of Noah’s Ark being a boat, when before he had been the one arguing against it.

“And the window and door?”

“I don’t know,” Dilara said. “Openings in the cave? What I do know is that this text clearly states that Noah’s Ark is a cave inside Mt. Ararat.”

“It does explain why no one has ever found it. New caves are still being discovered all the time. The problem is that Mt. Ararat is a shield volcano, which don’t typically contain caverns.”

“Why not?”

“Caves are usually carved out by water over millions of years, and Mt. Ararat is too young for that to happen. Most large caves in the world are found in limestone, which is soluble and can be dissolved by slightly acidic water.” Locke had learned that little tidbit when consulting on a sinkhole collapse in Florida that destroyed an entire mall.

“But remember those big lava tubes that we explored in Hawaii?” Grant said.

“I didn’t say it was impossible. How does the flood fit into all of this?”

“The flood was the disease,” Dilara said. “Garrett told me that he had to modify the prion from its original form. Waterborne diseases were virulent and common in the ancient world. Still are. Typhoid contaminates drinking water in many countries. But when the original translators misinterpreted the ark as a ship instead of a container, they must have assumed the references to the waters meant a flood, not a plague.”

“A flood of waters upon the earth,” Locke said, “to destroy all flesh.”

“What if the prion disease in the amulet attacked any animal matter, not just humans?” Dilara said. “If this prion disease was released into rivers and lakes, it would wipe out every living thing in that watershed. The only trace would be bones. No flesh. To people who rarely ventured 30 miles from where they were born, it would seem like God had cleansed the earth.”

“And Noah would have had to take all the animals he wanted to save with him. Once the disease destroyed everything, the remaining prions would die out or reach the ocean, where the salt water would kill them.”

“If Noah didn’t know how long it would take for the disease to subside, he might have built a huge ark, enough to feed him, his family, and his animals for months.”

“So when the Bible talks about the waters of the flood,” Locke said, “it means that the waters carried the flood, which was a plague.”

“And if it was a particularly rainy season,” Dilara said, “it would look to Noah like the rains were the harbinger of doom. It even fits sending out the raven and the dove to see if the waters had abated. The raven never returned because it was killed by the prions. With some reinterpretation of dates and wording, everything seems to fit.”

“But it doesn’t explain how the prions were related to the amulets. Everything we’ve found implies that the prions are inside the amulets.”

“We’ll have to find the last amulet to know for sure, and to do that, we have to find the Ark.”

Chirnian had been interpreting the conversation as it proceeded, and Father Tatilian had listened attentively without comment. But at this point, he exclaimed through the interpreter, “No, it would be best if you did not find the Ark.”

“Why not?” Locke asked.

“Because if true, this information will cause much distress and confusion. We consider the Bible to be the inspired word of God, carefully compiled over hundreds of years, so a fundamental challenge to something as important as the story of the Flood is very serious. It would undermine our confidence in our understanding of much of the Old Testament.”

“We have to find it,” Locke said. “If we don’t, there will be no one left to debate the point.”

“God will not let the earth be destroyed again. His covenant with Noah was clear. ‘Neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of the flood.’ He would not let this happen.”

“But we’re not dismissing that promise,” Dilara said. “First, ‘all flesh’ is an important phrase. Sebastian Garrett just wants to wipe out the human race, not all flesh. That’s why he spent so long modifying the disease in his lab. He specifically designed it so that it wouldn’t affect animals. Second, what if we’re the ones who have to stop him from wiping out all flesh? We could be God’s soldiers who will prevent it and preserve God’s covenant.”

“God helps those who help themselves,” Locke said.

“The Bible doesn’t say that,” Father Tatilian said.

“I know. Benjamin Franklin’s words, not mine. But I think they ring true.”

“The Bible is infallible. This story about the cave cannot be true!”

“If we find the Ark,” Dilara said, “it will support the Bible, not hurt it. It will finally provide physical proof that the book of Genesis has an historical basis, that it’s not just a book of faith or literature. And the people who want to believe it is literally correct can continue to do so. It’s the human translators who were fallible, not the words themselves. With just a few changes to the text, the story is still accurate. So the King James version needs a little tweaking? So what?”

The priest scowled, but he didn’t object. “I will have to pray for guidance on this.”

“It’s up to you how you want to reveal this chamber,” Locke said, “but you’re going to have to bring the local police down here to retrieve these remains.”

Father Tatilian nodded. “This discovery will change everything about Khor Virap.”

Dilara stared at her father’s prone body, but her eyes held no more tears.

“They’ll take care of him, Dilara,” Locke said.

“I know. At least he died knowing he was right.”

“He would want you to finish his work.”

“And I will,” she said with conviction. “Let’s go find Noah’s Ark.”

SIXTY-THREE

The word would get out quickly that a map to Noah’s Ark had been found, either through the priest or the interpreter. Translating the map and text would take longer for the Armenians because they’d need to get someone with Dilara’s expertise, but Locke wasn’t worried about them. He had to assume Sebastian Garrett was on his way to the Ark, and Locke had to move fast to get to the site first.

Locke returned to Yerevan with Grant and Dilara, where they reboarded the Gordian jet to fly the short distance to an airport in Van, Turkey. Using the plane’s satellite phone, Locke updated Miles Benson on their progress.

Locke kept his father out of the loop, knowing the military would take over the search and try to secure the prion for itself. Not only that, but if the Turkish government got any hint that they had discovered Noah’s Ark, their access to Mt. Ararat would be denied. They had to keep their expedition quiet if they wanted any chance of stopping Garrett without creating a major international incident and handing over the prions to another party.

By the time they arrived in Van, it was already dark, too late to attempt to find the Ark cave. They would have to wait until morning, which gave Locke time to gather some of the supplies he needed for the expedition. He had some mining contacts in western Turkey who could provide him with what he required. While he did that, Dilara, who spoke fluent Turkish, chartered a helicopter for the 100-mile flight to Mt. Ararat.

The final job was to acquire some muscle to add to their ranks. Garrett had at least Svetlana Petrova, Cutter, and the two guards who had been with him when he escaped. Locke didn’t like the idea of being outnumbered five to three. Grant, using his military contacts, found three mercenaries who could make it to Van from Istanbul before dawn. Locke had outfitted the jet with enough weapons to arm himself, Grant, and Dilara for the trip. The mercenaries would supply their own weapons.

Then it was a matter of waiting for daylight. Locke told the pilots to find a hotel in town, but he, Grant, and Dilara stayed with the plane, sleeping in the cabin. Even with the comfortable furniture, they slept fitfully.

By early morning, the equipment that Locke requisitioned had arrived, followed soon after by the three mercenaries, who reported for duty straight off their plane. Locke briefed them about the mission, leaving out any mention of Noah’s Ark. He simply told them that they would be joining Locke, Grant, and Dilara on a mission into hostile territory and that they should be ready to fight. The helicopter would drop them on the eastern flank of Mt. Ararat and fly off to a staging area to the south. When they were ready to be picked up, Locke would radio the chopper. He didn’t want the helicopter around to tip off Garrett in case Locke arrived first.

The helicopter charter was a surprisingly new Bell 222, roomy enough for all six of them and their gear. During the flight out, the pilot told them that oil and mineral exploration had jumped dramatically in the last five years. For a fifteen-year stretch starting in the mid-80’s, Mt. Ararat had been off-limits to non-military personnel because of attacks by the Workers Party of Kurdistan, or PKK. The Kurdish rebels had taken tourists hostage and set off bombs in the southeastern cities of Turkey. But when the PKK leader was arrested in 2000, the attacks had become rare. The mountain was re-opened to tourism, and business interests in the area had grown.

The new openness allowed the pilot to fly them to Mt. Ararat without prior military approval, but they would be monitored closely by the listening posts that dotted the mountain to provide advance warning of any Armenian encroachments. The listening posts were the reason Locke hadn’t been able to fly to the mountain directly from Yerevan, which was much closer. There was a long and bloody history of conflict between the Turks and Armenians, and a helicopter flying over the border wouldn’t just arouse suspicion. It might be shot down.

The flight to the mountain took only 30 minutes. The rugged slopes were lined with rock-strewn valleys and overhangs that could have hidden hundreds of caves. The helicopter was above the tree line, but some plants survived at this altitude because it was below the permanent snow line. The chopper flew over the approximate location shown on the map in Khor Virap, and they began searching for a distinctive rock outcropping described in the text.

It was depicted on the map as the prow of a boat jutting from a cliff face and topped by a sail mast. That’s the way it would look from the southern view. The Ark door would be found 100 paces south of it, and the window would be another 100 paces beyond the door. The biggest problem would be if the outcropping no longer existed.

Mt. Ararat was a dormant volcano, and in the previous 6000 years minor eruptions and earthquakes could have easily destroyed it. Locke remembered New Hampshire’s famed Old Man of the Mountain formation, which resembled a bearded man peering from the side of Cannon Mountain. It was so well-known and loved that it adorned the state’s quarter. Ironically and tragically, the rock formation collapsed soon after the quarter was circulated, showing just how suddenly the topography of a mountain could change. The odds that the prow formation had survived were not good.

They made six passes from the south before he heard Dilara shout and point out the left window. Sure enough, the profile of the bow end of a sailing ship extended from a rocky cliff face. They were directly over Noah’s Ark. Dilara grinned at Locke, her excitement obvious. His own enthusiasm was tempered by caution.

They circled to see if they could spot any signs of others. The mountainside appeared empty of any human presence, but the terrain was so harsh, a company of soldiers could be hiding down there without being noticed. Locke instructed the pilot to set down on the nearest flat spot, which ended up being almost a mile away.

Locke, Grant, Dilara, and the three mercenaries jumped out and quickly pulled out their weapons and equipment. The mercenaries were armed with heavy automatic rifles, while the rest of them carried pistols and submachine guns. Because of how Dilara had handled the MP-5 inside Oasis, Locke had offered one to her as well, and she accepted without hesitation.

The helicopter dusted off, and the six of them began the hike to the entrance of Noah’s Ark.

“What’s our altitude?” Grant asked.

“Only about 9,000 feet,” Locke said looking at the peak that reached another mile and a half above them. Previous searchers had expected the Ark to be higher in the mountain, but the lower altitude made sense. To get building materials and animals into the Ark, it had to be accessible enough to walk to. The climbing wasn’t easy, but the grade was wide and flat enough to allow pack animals to climb.

The summer hadn’t fully abandoned the mountain. Even though it was October, the sky was clear, and the air was a brisk 50 degrees. As they walked, one of the mercenaries ran his hand over some leafy plants with fading purple blooms, just the idle move of a bored hiker.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dilara said, nodding at the mercenary. The man gave her a look that said give me a break and kept doing it.

“Why not?” Locke said.

“Because that’s monkshood. The leaves and flowers contain a deadly poison that can be absorbed through the skin. It’s been used throughout history to poison the tips of arrows.”

The mercenary ripped his hand away as if the bush were on fire and wiped it on his pant leg.

“If your hand goes numb for a little while,” Dilara said, “don’t worry. It’ll go away. Just don’t lick your fingers after lunch.”

After 30 minutes, they reached the rock formation, and Locke began counting his footsteps. Given his long legs, if he got to 100 before they saw the cave, it meant he’d passed it. But he didn’t have to worry. When he got to 93, he saw a dark hole in the mountain face. A cave.

The cave opening was a 20-foot-diameter semicircle, and from this angle, Locke couldn’t see the back of it. If Garrett were already here, the cave would be a perfect place to stage an ambush. Using hand signals, he instructed the mercenaries to circle below the view of the cave entrance and approach from the opposite side. When they were in place, Locke popped a flare and threw it into the opening.

No shots rang out, but he didn’t expect them to. Cutter and his men were too disciplined for such a simple ruse. From his pack, Locke removed one of the pieces of equipment shipped to him: a remote control vehicle with large knobby rubber tires. It was the size of a loaf of bread and had a camera mounted on top.

Locke set the vehicle on the ground and took out the controller, which had a pistol grip with a trigger for the accelerator. A small wheel allowed him to control the steering with his other hand. He gently pulled the trigger, and with a muted whine, the vehicle leapt forward and darted into the cave. A color LCD screen above the controller’s wheel showed the view from the camera.

Lit by the flare, the cave had a uniform shape all the way back to a wall at the rear 50 feet beyond. He could make out a few objects, but nothing large enough to hide behind. No one was inside.

Locke gave the all-clear. He replaced the vehicle and controller in his pack. He picked up the flare and walked farther into the cave, followed by Grant and Dilara, who used their flashlights. The mercenaries stayed outside on guard duty.

Halfway in, Locke saw a pile of boxes, some broken, some still intact, lying against the cave wall. He bent down to look at them. They obviously didn’t date from Noah’s time, but they weren’t new. They must have decomposed in the cave for 20 years. There was crude writing on the nearest box. It looked Turkish.

“What does that say?” Locke said to Dilara. He saw another box that was partly open and peered into it, pushing the flare in close to light it better.

“I can’t read it,” Dilara said. “It not Turkish. It’s Kurdish.”

The flare lit the box contents. When he saw what was inside, Locke jumped back before a spark from the flare could fall into it.

“What?” Grant said.

“Remember the PKK?” Locke said. “The Kurdish separatists the pilot told us about? This must have been one of their hideouts. If Dilara spoke Kurdish, she’d be seeing the word dynamite on the side.”

Dilara froze when she heard the word “dynamite.”

“Get up slowly and ease away from the explosives,” Locke said. “Be careful not to touch the boxes.”

“Sweating?” Grant said as Dilara moved backward.

“Like a fat man in a sauna.”

If dynamite is left in an uncontrolled environment, the nitroglycerine inside will weep from the sticks, leaving behind crystals on the sticks and pooling in its liquid form. From Locke’s short glimpse, he could see the sparkle of thousands of crystals on the dynamite, which were cheaply made, not the newer sticks that resisted sweating. The boxes must have been there for years, subject to the extreme weather that blew into the cave.

“Is it going to blow up?” Dilara asked quietly.

“Not if we leave it alone. But nitro is touchy stuff. The bottom of the crate is full of it. A good nudge could set it off. The explosion could bring the entire roof down.”

“Let’s walk on the other side,” Grant said.

Skirting to the opposite side, they moved to the back of the cave, where it ended at a crack-covered wall that spanned the entire width. Locke examined it closely and noticed that one of the cracks was contiguous and framed a rough square eight feet on each side. He knelt and ran his hands over the floor. His fingers dug into a soft spot of sand that had been used to fill in a groove in the floor. He excavated the groove and found that it formed an arc away from the right side of the crack border.

“This is a door,” he said. “It was constructed to tight tolerances for those days, but that border is manmade. This channel must be used to guide it. I’d love to know how they built it.”

“I’d love to know how we open it,” Dilara said.

“We can’t. At least, not from here.”

“Why not? Is there another secret button?”

“No. My guess is that it can only be opened from the inside. That’s what your father meant when he said Garrett can’t get in. He only gave Garrett this entrance, but he knew it was a one-way door, probably as a security feature for the Ark. Once the construction was completed and the animals were inside, they could push this closed from out here and use the window to get in. It would be smaller and more easily defended. To open something this big, you’d have to push it from the inside.” Locke couldn’t hide his admiration for the accomplishment. “Noah must have been a hell of an engineer.”

“Then the Ark is behind this rock?” Dilara’s voice was suffused with hushed awe.

Locke ran his hand over the door to Noah’s Ark.

“Let’s hope Garrett isn’t waiting for us on the other side.”

SIXTY-FOUR

Sebastian Garrett looked through his binoculars at the three men huddled near the cave entrance 400 yards below him. The morning sun was directly in front of him, so he had to be careful not to shine a reflection in their direction. The men at the cave were scattered in what cover they could find around the entrance, and Garrett could see the heads of only two of them.

Locke had come, just as Garrett knew he would. When Garrett saw Locke and the others emerge from the church at Khor Virap, the priest gesticulating wildly, it was obvious they had found the chamber. Destroying the chamber would no longer be productive. It might even be detrimental, alerting Locke to Garrett’s presence.

As soon as he saw them leave, Garrett had taken his group back across the border into Turkey, lavishly bribing the border guards to get across. Then, using the GPS coordinates Cutter had established from their previous visit to the Ark’s location, Garrett led them up the mountain in the darkness. All of them were equipped with generation-three night vision goggles that amplified the faintest starlight to make the terrain look as detailed as it was in the day, making the hike relatively easy when they could drive no more because of the terrain. With the help of stimulants, they remained awake and arrived just in time to watch Locke’s helicopter swoop in.

Svetlana and the two guards were concealed behind a rock. Cutter crouched at Garrett’s side, holding the VAL sniper rifle to his shoulder.

“How close do you need to get to take out those men?” Garrett asked.

“I could hit one of them from here,” Cutter replied, “but the others are spread out. They’d be able to find cover before I could take them down.”

“We need a diversion.” Garrett lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “Your men are expendable.”

Cutter nodded his agreement and whispered, “I’ll have them circle around from the south. I’ll tell them to surrender, and when Locke’s men come out to get them, I’ll have my opportunity. If I’m lucky, I can take all three of Locke’s men down before they can react.”

“Excellent. What about their communications gear?”

“I’ll activate our broadband radio jammer right before we attack. Should we get into place now?”

“Not yet. We examined that cave from top to bottom. There’s no switch like the one in Khor Virap. I don’t think it’s the real entrance, but if Tyler doesn’t emerge in the next few minutes we’ll have to assume he made it in somehow.”

“It’s risky to try to infiltrate through a choke point like that. I still think it’s better to wait until they come out with the amulet and kill them all then.”

“No,” Garrett said firmly. “We have to follow them in. I don’t want to take the chance that Tyler will destroy the amulet inside the cave. Once we know where the real entrance is, we make our move.”

Cutter pointed. “There they are.”

Locke, Grant Westfield, and Dilara Kenner stepped into the sunlight.

“See,” Garrett said. “That cave isn’t the way in.”

He watched as Locke waved to his three men and began walking south.

“Keep your eyes out for an opening a lot smaller than that one,” Locke said. “Probably just big enough for a man to get through.”

He began counting paces again. When he got to 70, he slowed, looking at every nook in the rock face that might hide a cave. When he reached 93, he was even with a crevice that fit the bill. It was narrow, no more than two feet across and seven feet high. The only problem was that it was filled with dirt and rocks, as if the roof had caved in hundreds of years ago.

He walked farther on and got to 125 paces before he turned back, convinced that the crevice was what he was looking for.

“You think that’s it?” Dilara said.

“If it is, it means we got here first. No way did Garrett get here and plug it up after he was gone. Why would he go to that trouble?”

“I feel some manual labor coming on,” Grant said. He handed out two folding shovels and took a third for himself, shoving the blade into the crevice.

There was no telling how far back the cave-in went. They might have to dig for hours or days before getting through. Still, they didn’t have much choice. They had to be the first to get into the Ark, and this was the entrance. Locke was sure of it.

It turned out that they only had to dig for two hours before Grant’s shovel plunged through into air. They swept out the remaining dirt and shined flashlights down a passageway that ended farther than the light could reach.

Everyone had radio earpieces in. Locke told the mercenaries that at least five hostiles might make an attempt for the cave. The mercenaries were to stay outside and radio if anything out of the ordinary occurred. Locke would check in every 15 minutes.

The mercenaries took covered positions. Locke made sure the packs he and Grant carried fit through the opening. The three of them put on hardhats, and Locke looked at Dilara.

“Ladies first?” she said.

“Given that you’re the one who started all this, I thought you deserved to be the first one to see the Ark.”

She smiled. “Thank you. I’ll remember this day for the rest of my life.”

Dilara took a deep breath and entered the crevice. She was immediately swallowed by the darkness. Locke went in behind her, dragging his pack, and Grant took up the rear.

The going was slow. At several points, the passageway was so narrow that Locke wasn’t sure Grant would be able to squeeze his bulging pecs through.

“You going to make it?” he said to Grant.

“It’s a tad tight,” Grant said between gasps. “If I get stuck, we’ll radio the guys outside to send in a bucketful of warm butter.”

Locke grinned at that. Grant was doing fine.

“You see anything ahead?” Locke said after they had gone about 50 feet.

“Yes,” Dilara said. “I think I see it widen in 30 feet.”

In another minute, the crevice opened and Locke was standing next to Dilara. The cave didn’t have the dank odor of a limestone cavern. Instead, it had a dry, dusty aroma that reminded him of the time he had visited Tut’s tomb in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings. The air had the same feeling of history, of ageless wonder.

Locke focused his flashlight on the wall to his left. He played the light up the wall to the 50-foot-high roof and then followed the wall away from him until the surface ended at a right angle to another wall. Judging by the dimness of the spot, he guessed the far wall was at least 70 feet away. To his right, the flashlight beam was soaked up by the gloom.

Grant emerged next to him and took a huge breath.

“Thank God were out of there. I’m not claustrophobic, but I might convert after that.”

Grant’s low voice echoed from distant surfaces, as if they were in a box canyon.

“This place sounds huge” he said.

“Let’s find out how huge,” Locke said. He removed a strobe light from his pack. It wouldn’t be pleasant to operate by because of the flash, and the battery wouldn’t last long, but its high-intensity power would give them a feel for the size of the cavern.

“Don’t look directly at the strobe when I turn it on.” He placed his hand on the switch. “Is everyone ready?”

“Let’s do it,” Grant said.

Dilara nodded eagerly. “Show us.”

“Lady and gentleman, I give you Noah’s Ark.”

He flicked the switch and stepped back. He could hear the capacitor storing energy for its first flash, and then the strobe blasted its wide-beam outward every half-second. The persistence of the human visual system allowed the eye to view the scene almost as if it were a continuous light.

Dilara gasped. No one spoke. The image was too breathtaking. Stretching as far as the eye could see, a huge wooden structure three stories high ran down the left side of a cavern so vast that the other end was lost in the darkness. The building hadn’t been just slapped together, but showed a degree of craftsmanship Locke wouldn’t have believed an ancient civilization would be capable of. The pieces fit together as well as if he had designed it himself.

He couldn’t imagine the amount of effort it would take to build such a thing miles from the sources of wood needed to assemble it. Even with modern equipment, building such a structure inside a cave, without sufficient lighting, would have been an enormous undertaking. Constructed thousands of years ago, with only human hands and beasts of burden to do the labor, it was truly astounding. Locke could barely grasp what he was witness to. He was looking at the oldest wooden building still in existence, a construction that rivaled the great pyramids for sheer majesty. A magnificent structure that Noah himself had designed and built.

“My God,” Dilara finally said. “It’s still intact. After all this time, it’s still standing.”

“The dry air,” Locke said. “No water, no termites, no rot.”

“Looks like we won’t need all the spelunking gear we dragged along,” Grant said. “Judging by the size of this, Noah and his family must have planned to settle in for the long haul.”

“So are you still a skeptic?” Dilara asked Locke.

He shook his head slowly. “I’m proud to say I was wrong.”

“This has to be the most incredible archaeological find in history.”

“I’d go farther than that. I’d say it’s a miracle.”

SIXTY-FIVE

After a few minutes, the strobe’s battery was drained. Except for the flashlights and the faint light visible through the crevice, the cave was plunged back into darkness.

Using a laser rangefinder, Locke confirmed that the Ark cavern had the dimensions described in the Bible: 450 feet long by 75 feet wide by 45 feet high. Locke, Grant, and Dilara stood at the southern end of the 450-foot chamber, with the structure on the left and the bare cave wall on the right. The cave was surprisingly uniform, and Locke could only guess as to how it was formed. Maybe some kind of fantastically huge lava tube. It was an unlikely formation for this type of volcano; some might say miraculous. Except for the lack of water, it provided the perfect refuge.

The Ark itself was a three-level stepped construction that extended like the bench seats at a high school football stadium, with the front of each tier set back from the one below. All three levels abutted the left cave wall, which also served as the back wall of the structure, with rooms separated by interior walls along its 450-foot length. There were no doors or walls on the front side of each tier. Each room was open, as if they didn’t want to haul more wood up the mountain just to add doors. Privacy must not have been paramount.

Locke examined the wood used to build the Ark. It was a strong hardwood, treated with pitch to prevent rot. He rapped on the wood in several places. Still solid after 6000 years. Over Dilara’s objection, he dug the knife from his Leatherman into a beam. It didn’t give. The construction should be stable enough to walk on and under.

The trappings of ancient life abounded, as if the inhabitants had left only minutes before. No effort had been made to take the wooden furniture or pottery that littered the cavern.

Every fifty feet, a ramp ran parallel to the structure and angled up to the next level like a switchback trail. At the front of each of the top two levels, there was an open 15-foot-wide promenade that ran the length of the structure and would allow anyone walking along it to peer down to the level below. All the rooms were accessible via the promenade. The cave floor served as the promenade and floor surface for the lowest level.

The largest rooms were on the bottom tier, and with the stepped-back construction, the rooms were not as deep on the second and third levels because they had to make room for the promenades. The rooms on the bottom level were 45 feet deep, 30 feet deep on the second level, and on the top level the rooms were just 15 feet deep. From the few rooms Locke could see with his flashlight, they ranged in width from 10 to 50 feet.

He made a quick mental calculation and guessed that there were over 50 rooms to search. It could take days unless they got a head start. Locke turned to Dilara.

“Any ideas for where to begin the search for the amulet?” he asked.

Dilara shook her head. “No one has ever seen anything like this. I’m just guessing, but the bottom rooms were probably used for storage, animal pens, and refuse collection. The second level might have been used for common rooms. The top level could be individual quarters. But this is all speculation. The amulet could be anywhere. I suggest we split up.”

“I agree. Since we’re alone in here for now, the danger should be minimal. But first, I have a few things that might help us in our search.”

Locke unzipped his bag and removed the remote-controlled vehicle again. He also unfolded a laptop computer.

“How will that help?” Dilara asked. “It’ll take longer using the camera on that thing.”

“The camera is just one tool on the vehicle,” Locke said. “This time we’re going to use its laser mapping system.”

“What will that do?”

“As I drive the RCV — the remote-controlled vehicle — all the way down the cave on each level, the laser will measure the distance to every surface it passes and beam the dimensions back to the laptop. In real time, the laptop will construct a three-dimensional image of the structure which I can then send to the memory chips in each of these.”

Locke took his hardhat off to show it to Dilara. It looked like a standard miner’s helmet, with a powerful light on the top. But on each side, it had articulated viewfinders that could be folded down to fit over the eye. It also had an infrared camera that could pick up the heat signature of a warm body from a huge distance and would have made spotting Garrett’s group easy. Since they were alone, the infrared wouldn’t be necessary.

“Gordian developed these to assist in underground mining disasters when visibility is poor. I had them shipped here from a Gordian job in Greece.”

“You mean, this helmet will show me what the cave looks like?”

“Wherever you turn your head, it’ll show you a graphical representation of what your looking at. When you shine your flashlight at anything, you’ll see the visible image superimposed over the computer-generated image. It communicates with this emitter, which serves as the reference point.” Locke placed the small transceiver out of the way at the base of the wall.

“How long will it take before we can use it?” Dilara asked.

“Just a few minutes to get the data. The RCV’s top speed is 40 miles per hour. All I have to do is drive it straight to the end, and the laser and computer will do the rest. When it’s at the other end, I’ll drive it up to the second level and we’ll do the same thing. Of course, it won’t be able to see behind anything, but it’ll give us a quick look at everything in here.”

Locke plopped the RC on the floor, tapped on the computer’s mouse pad, and when he confirmed that the data collection had begun, he pressed the trigger. The RC zoomed away, its own flashlight guiding the way. Within seconds, all they could see was the pale spot of light in front of it. Locke concentrated on the controller’s LCD screen. In ten minutes, Locke had run the RCV down all three levels of the Ark and back to their current position.

“Nice driving, Andretti,” Grant said.

“All those video games finally paid off,” Locke said as he downloaded the data to the helmets. He put one on, turned down the eyepieces, and looked around.

He could see Dilara and Grant clearly through the lens, but the background was no longer black and formless. As Locke moved his head, the computer calculated its position and the distance to each hard surface. Then using wire-frames and texture-shading, it built a crude representation of everything in his field of view. Gradated textures were assigned to different depths so that items against a wall would stand out.

He took a few steps to the side, and the view shifted instantaneously. Anything that wasn’t a wall, floor, or ceiling would now quickly grab their attention.

“Try it,” he said to Dilara, handing her a helmet.

She put it on and rotated her head side to side, up and down.

“This is incredible! I can see everything so clearly!” She wobbled and lost her footing. Locke caught her.

“It may take a few minutes to get your balance wearing these,” he said. “If you feel unsteady, just close your eyes for a few seconds.”

“Right.”

“We’ll leave the equipment here. No sense toting it everywhere. Let’s divide up the place by level. I’ll take the bottom. Grant, you take the second level. Dilara, take the top.”

“This goes against everything I’ve ever learned or preached in archaeological discovery. We should be doing a methodical, inch-by-inch study of a find of this magnitude, not rifling through it like treasure hunters.”

“No need to get fancy. Nobody touch anything unless you absolutely have to. We’ll leave the scientific analysis for later. Our goal is to find the amulet.”

“Which looks like what?” Grant asked. “A brooch?”

“It’s probably some kind of jewel,” Dilara said. “It will be displayed on the same kind of dais we saw in the map room of Khor Virap. If you find the amulet, don’t touch it until I can see it in situ.” She waved her digital camera at him. “I want to get a photo to document it before we remove it.”

“And watch your step,” Locke said. “The Ark seems sturdy enough, but even without water in here, there might be parts of the floor that have rotted through. Test before each step.”

Even with the mercenaries on guard outside, Grant and Locke kept their submachine guns with them out of caution, but Dilara decided to shed the excess weight and dumped hers with the packs. Locke certainly wouldn’t need the bag of tricks from his pack, so he left that behind as well. Speed at this point was more important than anything else. If Garrett did eventually come, Locke wanted to be long gone.

They split up as Locke had suggested. Grant and Dilara carefully crept up the nearest ramp, and they were soon just two bobbing lights.

Ceramic pots, thousands of them ranging from the size of a coffee pot to five feet in height, were stacked along the wall of the cavern opposite the Ark. A few were broken, but most were in pristine condition. Locke peered into a few of them, but they were all empty or contained the dried remains of food. The amulet wouldn’t be found in any of them.

Locke entered the first room and quickly surveyed the contents. More ceramic pots. Nothing stood out. He had a feeling the amulet would be stored in a more exalted place, but he did a thorough scan anyway.

He repeated the same for the next two rooms. Empty. Locke guessed these were storage rooms. Food, water, supplies. Everything needed to sustain a family and a herd of animals for months at a time. More than enough space. Locke did the math. Almost 70,000 square feet of floor area. The equivalent of 35 average American homes. The size of the Ark was staggering. Noah must have had hundreds of animals to justify building something so huge.

In the fourth room Locke entered, a wooden fence stretched the width of the room, with a six-foot wide gate in the center. An animal pen. A few desiccated piles of hay were piled in the corners, but the animals had been removed. There were no bones.

The next four rooms were all animal pens. Locke was now almost halfway down the Ark and had found nothing of significance. He radioed the others, but they had similar luck. Grant and Dilara had found more artifacts — pottery, clothing, tools — but no amulet.

Locke inspected one more animal pen, then came to a room three times as wide as the rooms he had seen up until now. The room was 90 feet wide, the ceiling supported at regular intervals by stone pillars. The three-dimensional rendering showed a variety of texture gradients, meaning the room was filled to the brim with something. Locke cast his flashlight around, and reflections sparkled back at him from all directions.

It was as if Locke had stepped into a pirate cave. In every direction, gold ornaments and vessels, ivory statuettes, and jewel-encrusted objects covered the floor. Chests brimmed with bronze, silver, and gold pieces. Jade carvings adorned gleaming masks of gold. Marble busts lined the walls. Sapphires, rubies, diamonds, and amethysts were scattered like pebbles. The cache was so vast, Locke wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dragon resting on top of it.

For a minute, he forgot all about the reason he was there. The effect of the glittering treasure was mesmerizing. Then he snapped out of it and remembered what he was looking for. If there was an amulet in Noah’s Ark, it would be in this room.

He radioed Dilara and Grant to get down there as fast as they could without telling them why. They had to see this for themselves.

SIXTY-SIX

While he waited for the others, Locke walked amongst the hoard. The statuettes and urns were a mishmash of different styles and shapes, adorned with a wide variety of languages, all piled carelessly. It was as if they were just dumped in the first place that was available. Some of the treasure was stored in stone boxes or pottery, but most spilled out onto the floor.

Grant was the first to arrive and stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth agape. He said nothing. It was the first time Locke could remember him rendered speechless.

Dilara walked in behind him, but she was focused on her camera’s LCD screen.

“I found an amazing storehouse of weaponry…” She looked up and froze in place. “My God!”

“Apparently,” Locke said, “King Midas used to live here.”

“I’m retiring early,” Grant said.

“Unfortunately, the Turkish government might have something to say about that.”

“Or the Armenians,” Dilara said as she scanned the room in awe. “I can’t believe this! It’s incredible! Once word of this gets out, there’s going to be a massive international fight over who owns it. This room alone has to be worth billions.”

“What about a finder’s fee?” Grant said hopefully.

“We’ll see,” Locke said. “First things first. The amulet has got to be in here somewhere. And Grant, no souvenirs.”

“Spoilsport.”

“We can come back later when we’ve got better equipment and supplies. Then you can help Dilara pick through this piece by piece. Right now, I want to find that amulet and get it somewhere safe.”

“The amulet was of tremendous significance,” Dilara said. “It wouldn’t be tossed on the floor. Let’s try the back wall of the room.”

They snaked their way through the maze of wealth around them and came to a row of seven stone boxes six feet in length lying end-on to the back wall. Each was perched on a pedestal. Extensive writing covered the wall behind them, the same writing found in the Khor Virap map chamber.

“These look like coffins,” Grant said.

“Sarcophagi,” Dilara said. She snapped pictures of each of them and ran her hands over the surface of one, casting centuries of dust into the air. “The text will tell us who is entombed in them.”

“Hold on,” Locke said. “Look.” He shined his light on a pillar that stood in the center, with four sarcophagi on one side, three on the other. The pillar was four feet high, and on its flat top sat a translucent orb the size of a softball and the color of maple syrup. It was surrounded by other orbs, slightly smaller.

Dilara read the text on the pillar. “Here resides the Amulet of Shem. Here it remains as a symbol of mankind’s wickedness and a reminder of God’s love and a warning to those who would tempt His wrath.”

Locke knelt beside the pillar and shined the light through the orbs. He recognized what they were immediately. Enormous pieces of amber, sap from a tree that had fossilized millions of years ago. Often insects would be trapped in the amber, preserved virtually intact, protected from the effects of air and water.

The orbs around the edge of the pillar were completely transparent, flawless, but the Amulet of Shem contained the skeleton of a frog two inches long. It seemed to be floating in a pocket of viscous fluid the shape of a living frog.

After Dilara took a picture, he picked up the orb. The fluid circulated, causing the bones to slowly float around.

“This is the source of the disease,” Locke said. “Garrett’s raw material. The frog was caught in the amber and then dissolved from the disease, leaving the frog-shaped cavity behind. The prion must still be viable, protected in the amber. When he found the Amulet of Japheth, he realized the fluid inside held some kind of lethal plague.”

“He got the Arkon from a frog?” Grant said. “Like in Jurassic Park, only gooier?”

Locke nodded. “The text at Khor Virap said the amulet held the horror. Garrett rightly assumed that inside the amulet was a plague that wiped out every person and animal in Noah’s time. He knew he had the resources to analyze it and potentially develop a deadly weapon from it. Back in the lab, when he found out what he had on his hands, he devised the plan for Oasis.”

Grant took the amulet from Locke and gazed at the suspended bones. “Just like what happened on Hayden’s plane.”

“If that dissolved frog is a carrier of the Arkon,” Locke said, “then the disease must date from the time the frog was alive. At this point, we have no idea when that was. For all we know, that thing might have been hopping away from a T-rex when it got trapped in the amber.”

“You think this stuff could have killed off the dinosaurs?” Grant said.

“We’ll never know. But Arkon would certainly be virulent enough to do the job.”

Dilara had been reading the text on the wall.

“Hey, guys,” she said, snapping a photo. “This is the story of what happened.” She laboriously read the text. “It says that Noah found these pieces of amber in an exposed riverbed. The discovery was his first sign from God that he should build the Ark.” She turned to Locke and Grant. “Amber has always been prized as gem for its color and luster. Finding these must have seemed like a fortune.”

“How did the prion get released?” Locke asked.

Dilara ran her finger along the writing. “I hope I’m getting this right. It says that Noah saw a vision that these pieces of amber were special, given by God to him alone. Three of the biggest ones contained the frog bones. A traveling trader saw them and claimed the fluid inside could be sold for medicinal purposes. Noah suspected that such use would be an affront to God and tried to hide them, but the trader stole one of the orbs and disappeared.”

She told the story haltingly, pausing when she had trouble translating.

“Noah had another vision that the thief was an example of mankind’s wickedness, that even God’s servant was not free of tyranny by his fellow man. Then Noah heard of a strange sickness spreading from the foreign land the trader was from. He took this as a sign that God was exacting his wrath, and he had another vision with instructions for how to construct the Ark. He and his sons built it, trying to persuade others that death was coming and they should join him, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Then the rains came,” Locke said.

Dilara nodded. “And brought the Flood, as the pestilence had become known throughout the land. Noah closed the entrance to the Ark, for fear that the infected would seek refuge with him.”

“This place is as dry as a bone,” Grant said. “Where did they get water?”

“It doesn’t say, but probably from a stream of uncontaminated glacier melt just outside the crevice entrance. Then they waited it out.”

“And the treasure?”

Dilara read on. “When the Flood passed, no living thing existed anywhere. No animals, no birds, no people.”

“It killed everyone on earth?” Grant said.

“Probably not,” Locke said. “But I’m sure Noah didn’t travel beyond the Mt. Ararat watershed. To him, it would have seemed like the whole world had been cleansed.”

“Outside the cave, all they found were bones and the remnants of humanity’s material greediness,” Dilara said. “They collected everything they could find, from kings’ palace hoards to merchants’ possessions and brought them here, as an offering for God’s deliverance.” She stopped.

“What?”

“Now I understand,” she said. “The Book of the Cave of Treasures. Noah’s Ark is the Cave of Treasures.”

“And let me guess who is buried with the treasures,” Locke said. “Noah and his sons.”

She took a deep breath and laid her hand on the sarcophagus to the right of the pillar the amulet sat on. “We are standing beside Noah. Physical proof that an event in the first book of the Bible actually took place. Buried with him are two of his sons, as well as the four wives.”

“Why’d they leave out one son?” Grant asked.

“Ham was the one who wrote this,” Dilara said. “He sealed the bodies of his family in the Ark as each of them died. He was the only one who could be trusted not to loot the treasure and bring down God’s wrath again.”

“Then he shouldn’t have taken one of the amulets with him,” Locke said. “And yet, that’s exactly what I’m going to do now.” He carefully took the Amulet of Shem back from Grant. He also removed one of the clear amber orbs from the pedestal. He put them both in his pocket.

“Hey!” Grant said. “I thought we couldn’t take anything besides the amulet!”

“The amulet itself is too dangerous to test. But if the other orb was found at the same time, it might be able to tell us when the insect dates from. Wouldn’t it be amazing if it came from 65 million years ago?”

“Fascinating,” Grant said dryly.

Locke looked at his watch. Time for the radio check-in.

“This is Locke,” he said into his walkie-talkie. “Come in.”

No answer. All he got was static. He tried again with the same results.

“Maybe we’re too far from the entrance,” Grant said.

“Since we have what we came for, I suggest we all leave.”

“Just let me stay for a few more minutes,” Dilara said. “I want to get a few more photos.”

Locke paused. The loss of contact was troubling, but the mercenaries should have radioed if they were under attack. Either way, he didn’t want to stay any longer than they had to.

“I’ll stay here with her,” Grant said. “If she doesn’t leave when you say the word, I’ll carry her out.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Just a few minutes, and I’ll be done.”

“Okay,” Locke said. “You’ve got five minutes. I’ll go back and contact our guys to call for the helicopter. If I still can’t reach them, we’ll have to assume something happened outside the cave, and I’ll want you there on the double.”

Dilara was already snapping away with the camera, ignoring Locke.

He wound back out of the treasure room and walked toward their packs, trying to raise the mercenaries as he went. If anything, the static seemed to get stronger the closer he got to the cave entrance.

Locke reached the spot twenty feet from the crevice through which they’d entered the cave. It was where they had left their packs, but all he saw was empty floor. He knew that was the spot. The only explanation was that somebody took their packs.

The static wasn’t interference. The radios had been jammed deliberately. Someone was in here with them.

“Hello, Tyler,” said a smooth voice from behind him. “Hands on your head, please. Slowly.”

Locke complied.

“Now turn around.”

As Locke turned, his miner’s light fell on the image of Sebastian Garrett walking toward him, aiming a pistol at Locke. Garrett pushed a pair of night vision goggles onto his forehead. He stopped walking when he was twenty feet away, and his face broke into a satisfied smile.

“Thanks for showing us the way in.”

SIXTY-SEVEN

“That helmet light is in my eyes,” Garrett said. “Turn it off. And no sudden movements. I’m not the only one here.”

Someone clicked a flashlight on behind Locke. One of Garrett’s guards by the crevice. Locke flipped the switch on the helmet light. The guard’s light focused on Locke was now the only illumination. Any other lights still on in the massive Ark were too dim and too far away to be useful.

“Our men outside?” Locke said, already knowing the answer.

“They were good. Not great, but good. They even got one of my men before Cutter was able to take them out. Now drop your weapons. Slowly. The radio, too.”

Locke put the submachine gun, pistol, and radio with its earpiece on the ground.

“Turn and kick them to Brett.”

Locke turned and saw a lean man armed with an automatic weapon and grenades strapped to his chest and a set of night vision goggles perched on his forehead. Locke wished they’d had a chance to acquire some grenades in Van, but all he could get were some mining explosives that were in his bag of tricks, which the guard now carried. The other packs were somewhere in the dark.

“Yes,” Garrett said. “I know your penchant for explosives, so I made sure to secure your bag.”

“Where are your other bootlickers? Waiting outside?” Locke needed to goad Garrett into giving him some info.

“No, they’re in here with us. Dan Cutter and Svetlana Petrova are similarly equipped with night vision goggles and are searching for Dilara Kenner and Grant Westfield right now.”

“Garrett’s here!” Locke shouted into the darkness.

“Crude, but effective. It won’t matter. You don’t have starlight scopes like we do. Otherwise, you would have seen me when you came back here. Besides, I have an offer to make.”

“I’m not going to tell you where the amulet is.”

“I already know where it is. I can see it’s in your pocket. What I can’t have is Kenner and Westfield roaming about like this, maybe finding yet another way out after I’ve gone. That wouldn’t do. Ergo, my offer.”

Just like Garrett. Pretentious enough to use the word ergo when he’s making a threat.

“You’re just going to kill us anyway,” Locke said.

“Yes, you’re smart enough to know I can’t let any of you live. And I will find all three of you eventually. I just don’t want to wait.” He gestured at Brett. “The radio.”

Brett tossed Locke’s radio to Garrett, who caught it easily. He keyed the mike.

“Dilara Kenner and Grant Westfield. I know that you can hear this. If you come forward in the next two minutes, I will promise each of you a quick and painless death. If you don’t, I will begin shooting Tyler Locke. First the feet. Then the hands. Knees. And so on. Nothing vital. Nothing that would kill him. But it will be an agonizing way to die. You have two minutes starting now.”

“They won’t do it,” Locke said.

“You better hope they do.”

“You were waiting for us all along, weren’t you?”

“You’re a resourceful man. As soon as I saw that you had made it to Khor Virap, I knew you’d be able to find the Ark and show me the way in.”

“And you’re always good at thinking about all the angles, Sebastian. That’s why you got away with cutting all those corners building your lab and firing me.”

Garrett smirked. “I win yet again. By invading Oasis, you may have changed my plans, but the outcome will be the same.” He spoke into the radio. “You now have 60 seconds left.”

Grant had made a mistake not to keep Dilara with him.

He had been looking at an intricately-carved ivory figurine and Dilara had still been photographing the treasures when he had heard Tyler yell, and then seconds later the radio call had come in from Sebastian Garrett telling them they had two minutes to reveal themselves or Tyler would be tortured to death.

If he was going to save Tyler, he had to move fast, and Dilara would slow him down. He told her to go back to the third level and hide. She’d argued that she could take care of herself, so Grant used that, telling her to keep herself safe and out of sight. She should use only her 3-D mapping system to guide herself since it didn’t depend on an external light source. She shouldn’t use her flashlight or helmet light.

They’d separated, and Grant doused his own flashlight. He flicked the infrared scope on. The scope picked up temperature differences, not visible light, so any heat source — particularly a human body — in his field of view would flare like a campfire on a moonless night. He knew Cutter was around somewhere, and he wouldn’t be content to wait for the full two minutes. He’d come find Grant.

Grant ran low and fast toward the crevice, but when he got to a ramp, he decided height would be an advantage, so he ran up to the second floor, trying to keep his footsteps as light as possible.

That’s when he realized leaving Dilara had been a mistake.

As he was running, he peered back and up to the third level promenade to see where Dilara had gone to hide so he could find her later. With the infrared, he saw her go into a room. To his surprise, he saw another figure on the third level carrying a weapon. Then a second unfamiliar person caught his eye on the first level. Neither of the hostiles seemed to be looking in his direction, so he ducked into one of the rooms. They both seemed to be quietly and methodically searching each room. He flipped up his eyepiece and crept out to look up to the third level promenade and down to the first level cavern floor. No lights, which meant they had night scopes.

He flipped the infrared eyepiece back down. The images weren’t distinctive enough to let him identify the hostiles, but the one above him looked smaller. A woman. Svetlana Petrova, Garrett’s girlfriend. He was sure the other one was Cutter.

He had three options, all of which churned through his mind in as many seconds. First, he could keep going and take out the people holding Tyler, ignoring Dilara’s situation. Not a good option. Tyler wouldn’t forgive Grant if he sacrificed Dilara for him. Second, he could start firing at the hostiles, but with these civilian infrared goggles, the chances of hitting anyone at this range were minimal. Not to mention he’d give away his position.

Since the first two options sucked, he chose the third. Petrova would make a perfect hostage. He could exchange her for Tyler. Or at least buy enough time for him to figure out the next move and keep Tyler alive and free of bullet holes. If Grant could sneak up on Petrova from behind, he could grab and disarm her.

Grant crabbed up the ramp to the third level as fast as he could. In his earpiece, he heard Garrett say, “You now have 60 seconds left.” He was running out of time.

He peeked over the edge of the third level walkway. There was Petrova, just 40 feet in front of him. She was almost to the room he’d seen Dilara go into. If Petrova saw her first, she was dead. These people weren’t looking for hostages.

He got to his feet and crept toward Petrova, ready to take her in a headlock.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Locke said. “Even those night vision goggles. Generation-Three?”

“The newest we could get on short notice,” Garrett said. “Amazing devices. All we need is the light coming through that crevice to see this entire cavern as visible as if it were in daylight.”

“You’ve thought of everything. Except one. What if the amulet isn’t really in my pocket? What if I’ve hidden it somewhere in the Ark?”

“You didn’t have time. And if one of your colleagues has it, they will realize that my offer includes bringing me the amulet.”

“But if they’ve hidden it, it could take you a long time to find it. Noah’s Ark is a big place.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Just trying to get you to think about all the angles.”

Garrett kept his pistol trained on Locke and looked at his watch. “We still have thirty seconds left. All right. We’ll make sure.” Garrett spoke to Brett. “Search him, starting with his left front pocket.”

As Locke had hoped, Garrett took the bait. And as he knew, Garrett wouldn’t do the dirty work himself. He’d leave that to his minion.

Brett approached Locke. Locke had noticed the guard carrying the flashlight in his left hand, the pistol in his right. To search Locke’s pocket, he’d need to holster his pistol.

Brett removed the Amulet of Shem, and when he tossed it to Garrett, Locke seized his chance. As Garrett caught the amulet, Locke whipped his hands down and grabbed Brett’s vest. It wasn’t until Locke moved that Garrett realized Brett was the only one with a light. Too late, Garrett stuffed the amulet in his pocket and reached for his own flashlight.

The guard might have expected a blow, some kind of chop or punch, but he wouldn’t have considered the possibility that Locke would simply grab his vest and push him backward. Brett’s flashlight clattered to the floor, leaving them unlit. Brett sent body blows into Locke’s midsection, but Locke wouldn’t let go and continued to drive Brett backward.

By this time, Garrett had recovered and started shooting. In the darkness, Locke felt bullets zinging past his head. One hit the side of his thigh, causing him to stagger, but with the adrenaline dulling the pain, he couldn’t tell how bad it was. One thing he was sure of, his only chance was to keep hold of Brett until he could get him to the crevice.

Locke kept churning his legs, pushing Brett, who was off-balance, but preventing him from falling, which would be just as deadly. The crevice was his target. Just a few more feet.

The bullets kept coming, and one went into Brett’s shoulder, splashing Locke with blood. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it was enough to slacken Brett’s resistance. In another two steps, Locke gave a final shove, and Brett tumbled into the crevice, the bag of tricks beside him.

Locke scrambled away from the opening. He only had two more seconds because as he let go of Brett, he’d grabbed the pin from one of the grenades on Brett’s vest.

Locke rolled ten more feet and covered his head. The shock of the explosion pummeled him. The grenade went off before Brett had a chance to get up, and the mining explosives were detonated by the grenade. A thunderous clap echoed through the cavern, and when it was over, Locke heard the walls of the crevice collapsing. It was completely sealed.

It was exactly what he was hoping for. Not only was that way out closed, but light was no longer coming from it. Without a light source, caves aren’t just dark, they’re pitch black, like swimming in a barrel of ink. The type of night vision goggles that Garrett wore work well in the night sky, even without a moon, because although it’s dark outside, the stars still provide some light. In a cave, with no external light source, the night vision goggles have absolutely no light to amplify. They would be useless. Garrett, Cutter, and Petrova no longer had the advantage. They would have to use flashlights.

The odds were even.

SIXTY-EIGHT

Cutter had been hoping that he’d find Grant Westfield crouched in the corner of a room so he could shoot him like a dog, but no such luck. He got his break when he looked up to check on Petrova’s progress. They were in comm silence to mask their positions. On a ramp above him, he saw a huge figure not 40 feet behind her get up and move towards her. That slab of meat could only be Westfield. Cutter finally had him in his sights, but the angle wasn’t good. He wanted to make sure he got that bastard dead center.

Westfield didn’t see him. Just like in the Army, Westfield was too focused on his target, not paying attention to his flank. Now he’d pay for it.

Cutter found a ramp and tiptoed up. He’d ditched his sniper rifle in favor of the MP-5 submachine gun, which was a better close-in weapon.

Westfield was close to Petrova, his weapon at his side. He was only 25 feet above Cutter, that big chest centered in his sights. There was no way Cutter would miss. He couldn’t resist seeing the expression on Westfield’s face when he realized he was about to be shot by Cutter, so he called out.

“It’s Chainsaw,” he taunted.

Westfield’s head turned, and even with the night vision goggles, Cutter could see the flash of recognition.

A huge explosion from Garrett’s direction blasted like a cannonade through the cavern. At the same time, the viewfinder on his goggles went out. Nothing. Black.

Cutter fired, but he knew it was too late. He heard the bullets chew into wood, but no screams of pain.

He had missed. And now he was blind.

Dilara hated the idea of hiding, and the explosion, followed by a splat of bullets nearby, spurred her to action. She couldn’t stay there, waiting to be hunted down. She had to do something. She drew her pistol, although she didn’t know what she could do with it without a flashlight.

Dilara had taken refuge in the weapons-filled room she had found earlier. She’d been awed by the knives, swords, and spears that lined the room. She recalled that an array of bows leaned against a wall, and next to it was an urn painted with a purple symbol that looked like a cloaked figure praying. The urn held a bolt of arrows, points down. The symbol had looked familiar to her, but she didn’t know why.

None of the ancient weapons seemed better than the pistol, so she left them alone. The 3-D mapping system, as Locke had told her, was limited by the viewpoint of the RCV, so it hadn’t been able to see around the urns and other objects in the room. With her free hand, she felt her way to the end of the room, and peeked around, hoping there would be some light to guide herself by.

The blackness was total, then a beacon lit. At least, it seemed like a beacon to her, but it was just Grant’s helmet light. It was sliding on the floor out of a room 15 feet in front of her.

That’s when she saw the figure of Svetlana Petrova close enough to touch. Petrova fired at the helmet and backed up at the same time, right into Dilara’s gun hand. Dilara was so unprepared, the pistol was knocked from her grip. Her hands free, Dilara did the only thing she could think of. She tackled Petrova and wrestled her to the ground.

The impact sent Petrova’s machine gun flying. Petrova elbowed Dilara, and Dilara responded with a punch of her own. But she could tell she wouldn’t win a hand-to-hand fight with this woman, not without the element of surprise that she’d had on the Genesis Dawn. She needed Grant’s help.

She twisted around and saw Grant rushing toward her in the helmet light. Then he abruptly changed his direction and bull rushed Dan Cutter, who was standing at the edge of the walkway, training a gun on her and Petrova. The two men disappeared over the side and crashed into the walkway below.

She looked back down at Petrova, whose face was a mask of fury in the dim light, and Dilara knew this was a fight to the death. Nobody was coming to save her. If she was going to live, she would have to finish the fight on her own.

SIXTY-NINE

Locke knew it was too much to hope for that the explosion had killed Garrett. The blast had either destroyed the flashlights or knocked them away because it was completely dark.

He pushed himself up, suppressing a cough so that he wouldn’t give away his position. If Garrett wasn’t dead, he was still armed, and Locke wasn’t. His helmet had fallen off, and he felt around for it. His hand brushed against it. He put it on, relieved that the 3-D modeling system still worked. He could see the Ark, but the infrared sensor had been damaged. He wouldn’t be able to see Garrett unless he turned on the helmet’s light. And if he did that, Garrett would have the perfect target to shoot at.

He heard the click of a pistol magazine being ejected, then another inserted and the slide racking. Then the ratcheting of a machine gun bolt. Garrett was heavily armed.

“You idiot, Tyler!” Garrett yelled. “Do you realize what you’ve done? The entrance is gone! A thousand tons of rock is blocking it.”

Garrett was hysterical. Good. That meant he didn’t know about the exit door at the first cave.

Locke stood, and the gunshot wound in his leg announced its presence with a jab of pain. He put his hand on it, but he couldn’t feel how bad it was. He tested the leg. He could walk, but with each step, it felt like an icepick stabbed his thigh.

“Are you satisfied, Tyler? You’ve doomed humanity! I wanted to preserve the human race. Don’t you understand that? We’re destroying ourselves. My plan was the only way. We had to start over. And now you’ve ruined that!”

Now Garrett was baiting him. He wanted Locke to respond so that he could empty his magazine in Locke’s direction. Locke wasn’t biting.

He heard Garrett call into his own radio. “Cutter! Svetlana! Come in!” Garrett repeated the names several times. Apparently, they weren’t answering.

Locke tiptoed forward as gracefully as his leg would let him and almost fell when his foot hit something that wasn’t on the 3-D image scan. He bent over and felt his pack. Locke ran his hands through it. The RC vehicle, the controller, and the laptop were all inside, but no weapons.

Gunshots rang out farther along the Ark, but he couldn’t make out anything else. His hearing was still muffled because of his close proximity to the explosion. Locke looked in the direction of the shots and thought he could make out a faint light. There was no way to tell if the light was from a friendly or hostile. Locke felt a pang of fear for Dilara and Grant, knowing they were being hunted by trained killers. He desperately needed to come up with a plan.

Locke couldn’t fight it out with Garrett, not with a bum leg and no gun. His only chance was to find Grant and Dilara. He had to assume they were still alive because he couldn’t bear to consider the alternative. Together they could escape the cave and seal Garrett, Cutter, and Petrova inside. But how?

Locke thought about his only asset, the RC vehicle, and sketched out a plan in his mind. Risky, but it might work. He picked up the pack and slung it over his shoulder.

Locke needed to buy himself some time and distance. There weren’t any stones on the ground around him, so he took out the laptop, careful not to make a sound. He held it like a Frisbee and tossed it as far as he could toward the direction of the crevice.

The laptop smashed into wall. Garrett unloaded a burst of machine gun fire at it.

Locke took that cue to limp in the opposite direction toward the exit door. The explosive clatter of the gun masked his movement. He used the clusters of urns lined against the cave wall for cover.

Garrett aimed his flashlight in the direction of the laptop impact and ran toward the wall. The light beam darted around searching for Locke’s body, then settled on the remains of the shattered computer.

“I’m going to find you, Tyler!” The light began a search pattern down the cave, pausing to check in each room as it went.

Locke moved faster, trying to stay ahead of the sweeping beam. He had to get to the exit before he was discovered.

But to make his plan work, Locke needed Dilara and Grant with him. He wasn’t going to leave without them. He couldn’t yell out, so he had to hope Grant still had his own infrared scanner working.

Locke raised his arm over his head as he walked and started signaling to Grant in the darkness.

Grant couldn’t let go of Cutter, not if he wanted to win this battle.

Cutter was the best shot Grant had ever seen and could throw a knife with precision. But Grant was his equal in hand-to-hand combat, and even though Cutter was a big man, Grant had the size advantage.

During their tumble onto the second level walkway, Grant had landed on Cutter. They had rolled over, and for a moment Grant lost his grip. Cutter turned his flashlight on and tossed it aside, out of Grant’s range, but close enough so that they could see each other in the dim light.

During the motion, Grant was able to get his arm around Cutter’s chest, but he couldn’t maneuver himself for a headlock. The position reminded him of his wrestling days, but he wasn’t play-acting this time, and he wasn’t going to follow any rules. He was going to play dirty, and so was Cutter.

Grant punched Cutter in the left kidney, and Cutter responded by stomping on his foot. Pain shot up his leg, and he fell backwards. Cutter flipped over Grant and sprang to his feet. In the distance, Grant heard gunfire, and he hoped it was Tyler taking Garrett out.

Cutter reached for his pistol. Grant lunged at Cutter and got to him before Cutter could raise the pistol to fire. The gun flew into the air, and the impact took them to the ground. Grant was behind him again, still without a good hold, and when they rolled to a stop, he spoke into Cutter’s ear.

“I’d knee you in the groin, Cutter, but I know it wouldn’t do any good. One advantage of missing your Johnson.”

Grant knew the mention of the war wound, one which he blamed on Grant, would make Cutter lose control, and it did. He roared with rage and twisted free.

Cutter whipped a knife from behind his back. Grant reached for his own, but found the sheath empty.

“This is your knife, asshole!” Cutter yelled with triumph. “I always was the better soldier.”

He slashed at Grant, who leaped back toward the walkway edge. With every sweep of the knife, Cutter punctuated it with a growled word.

“You…are…dead.”

If Grant jumped to the first level and ran, Cutter would simply find his gun and hunt Grant down. He had to finish this now.

“Come on!” he shouted. He purposely left himself unguarded on the left side.

The knife sliced forward, plunging into Grant’s shoulder. The pain was exquisite, but it was what he wanted Cutter to do.

Using a variation of his signature pro wrestling move, the Detonator, Grant twirled around and wrapped his arm around Cutter’s neck. Making sure he had a firm grip on Cutter, Grant tossed himself off the side of the walkway.

They fell as one, but with the years of experience coming back in an instant, Grant rotated his body. When they landed, Grant’s right shoulder smashed into the ground. The force of the impact amplified the strength in his arm and crushed Cutter’s windpipe and spine.

Grant pulled his arm out from under Cutter, then removed the knife embedded in his left shoulder. He felt some blood spill out, but it didn’t come in a torrent. No arteries had been hit.

He heard Cutter’s wheezing in the darkness and knew the man had only seconds to live.

“Feel the burn, asshole,” Grant said.

A hiss escaped Cutter’s throat, and then he was silent.

Grant stood, cradling his left arm, picked up the flashlight, and staggered to the nearest ramp to see if he could get to Dilara in time.

Petrova threw Dilara off her, and Dilara sprang to her feet, not sure what to do next. The defensive techniques she would have learned had been enough to hold off a mugger, but this woman seemed like a trained fighter.

Petrova clicked her flashlight and focused it right in Dilara’s face, blinding her. Dilara moved backwards into the weapons room and grabbed one of the swords piled on the floor. She thrust it at the flashlight, knocking it aside still lit.

With a nimble move, Petrova somersaulted to grab a sword for herself. She stood and waved it back and forth gracefully, assuming a practiced stance.

“So swords are your choice,” she said. “Fine. It’s one of my favorites.”

Dilara had never used a sword before, so this fight would be over quick if she didn’t think of something else. Petrova raced at her, swinging the sword down. Reflexively, Dilara raised hers above her head to block the blow. Petrova’s sword glanced off to the side, but Dilara’s grip wasn’t in the right place, and her sword went flying, knocking over the urn with the purple symbol, scattering arrows on the floor.

“I should have stayed and poisoned you at LAX when I had the chance,” Petrova said.

Poison! That’s why Dilara recognized the symbol on the urn. It wasn’t a praying figure. It was a flower, the blossom of the monkshood plant. The arrows must have been dipped in a poison extracted from the monkshood flower, and the urn was marked to make the lethal arrows distinctive.

Dilara grabbed a handful of the arrows and began flinging them at Petrova, who was able to knock them aside. While Petrova was recovering from the fusillade, Dilara took the last arrow and charged. She stabbed the point into Petrova’s leg before Petrova was able to react. Petrova slashed with her sword, slicing a gash into Dilara’s arm and sending her reeling against the wall.

With a smile, Petrova pulled out the arrow. “Is that all you can do? You, my dear, are obviously an amateur.”

Dilara pulled a spear from the wall and held it in front of her. She made a few thrusts but Petrova neatly sidestepped them.

“Pathetic,” Petrova said and swung her sword at the spear.

Dilara was able to hold on to the spear, but the sword was quickly cutting it to pieces. When the spear was down to three feet long, Petrova swung her leg in a roundhouse kick, connecting with Dilara’s torso. She dropped to the floor, gasping for breath, and her helmet rolled away.

Petrova swaggered over and put a knee on Dilara’s chest. She raised the sword, pointing at Dilara’s neck for a killing blow, but she froze. Her hand moved jerkily to her throat, and the sword started quivering. Petrova’s hand went limp, and the sword fell. Dilara wrenched her head to the side. The sword landed so close to her neck, she felt it nick her skin. It clanged to the floor.

With a violent spasm, Petrova tipped over. She lay on the floor, twitching. Her mouth moved, but no words came out.

Dilara rose and put her hand to her neck. She pulled it away to find some blood on her palm, but not much.

Footsteps pounded behind her, and Dilara plucked the sword off the floor. She turned to see Grant coming towards her. In the dimness, she could see liquid shining on his left arm. Blood.

“My God!” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He looked at Petrova wracked with tremors on the floor. “What happened to her?”

“Poisoned-tipped arrow. Remember the monkshood plant outside? Amazingly potent. Even after 6000 years, it’s still one of the deadliest poisons known to man. No antidote.”

She looked dispassionately at Petrova, whose eyes shined with the fear of death. “Now you know what Sam Watson went through.”

As if in response, Petrova’s body arched up. She crashed back to the floor and went limp.

“Cutter?” Dilara asked.

“He arrived in Hell a few minutes before this one.” Grant grabbed Dilara’s helmet and put it on. “Come on. This isn’t over. Garrett is still out there.”

“And Tyler, too,” she said, but she realized her tone wasn’t as sure as she wanted it to be.

“Let’s hope,” Grant said.

SEVENTY

Grant found Dilara’s pistol and retrieved his own helmet, which had been blasted by Petrova. The light still worked, but the 3-D mapping computer and infrared sensor were shot to pieces, so he turned off the helmet light and put it on Dilara’s head. No reason to walk around like a bright target. Grant turned off the handheld flashlight, guiding himself and Dilara to the edge of the third floor walkway. He switched on the infrared sensor of Dilara’s helmet, which he now wore. Their position gave him an expansive view of the Ark.

Immediately, he saw two figures on the cavern floor. One had a flashlight and was moving it back and forth, searching for the other man, who was 60 feet ahead of the flashlight, almost directly below Grant. He had his arm raised above him and walked with a limp.

One of them was Tyler, but which one? The infrared goggles didn’t have the resolution to identify them, and Tyler and Garrett were about the same size. If Grant yelled out, he’d give away their position.

He looked back at the figure who had his arm still above his head. Then he understood why. It was Tyler. He was signing, careful to exaggerate the motions. If his arm were in front of his body, Grant would never have seen his hand motion, but against the cool cave wall, he could see what Tyler was spelling out.

Grant. Go to exit.

The stone door in the cave. That’s how they were getting out.

Grant signed back, but Tyler just kept blindly repeating the same message.

Grant whispered into Dilara’s ear. “We’re leaving.”

“What about Tyler?” she whispered back.

“I see him. He’s in trouble. Let’s get him.”

Grant took her hand and led her down the ramp, the 3-D mapping system showing the way.

Locke knew he must have come 200 feet so far. A light snapped off on the third level. He had no way of knowing who it was. He just had to keep going.

Garrett’s flashlight was still three rooms away, but it was forcing him to keep moving.

Locke felt a change in the air. Subtle, but it was there. Someone was coming. He tensed, but if his attacker was wearing night-vision goggles, Locke wouldn’t be able to do much more than put up token resistance.

He sniffed and caught a familiar scent. It was Dilara’s shampoo. The aroma was still in his nose from their shower and night together.

Locke felt a vise grip his arm. He reached out and touched Grant’s massive shoulder, which flinched backward. The stickiness on Locke’s hand told him why. Blood. Grant was injured. But they’d gotten his message.

His faulty helmet was removed, and a different helmet was placed on his head. The infrared system worked on this helmet. Locke saw the fiery images of Grant and Dilara in front of him, both of them wearing hardhats.

Grant pressed a pistol into Locke’s hand. He signed, Cutter and Petrova are dead. Lead us to the exit.

Locke holstered the pistol, then took Dilara’s hand and Grant’s good arm.

Now that he didn’t have to sign as he walked, he could move faster, but he was still limited by the leg and the need to be quiet. He estimated the exit was another 100 feet on their right.

They were moving along at a good clip and got 50 feet father along when Grant tripped on some unseen rock.

The rock went flying, smacking into the wall. Grant went down on his bad shoulder, dragging Dilara with him. Her helmet went skittering along the cave floor. Grant restrained a scream, but the resulting grunt was still loud enough.

“Gotcha!” Locke heard from behind him. The flashlight beam swung towards them and locked on. Garrett’s machine gun opened up, and bullets pinged on the floor and wall, but at this distance, in the darkness, his accuracy was terrible.

“Go!” Locke yelled. “I’ll cover!”

Grant got up, turned on his flashlight, and dragged Dilara after him.

Locke dove to the ground and started firing in Garrett’s direction.

Garrett knew he had them. It looked like Locke, Westfield, and Kenner had all survived, which meant that Cutter and Svetlana were dead. He didn’t feel anything for them. They were dead to him as soon as Locke had blasted their only way out. His grand plans were over, his vision for a New World ruined. The realization tore at him, and he silently raged at God’s unfairness. But he could still gain one more small satisfaction.

They wouldn’t be running like that if they had any firepower close to his. And where were they running to? Even though he had the amulet in his vest pocket, it didn’t matter. None of them were getting out of here, but Garrett wanted the pleasure of seeing Locke suffer first.

Garrett shined his flashlight from the cover of a wall. Nine millimeter rounds whizzed by him. Locke’s shots were close, but not close enough. All he had was a pistol, no match for Garrett’s machine gun.

He crouched and crabbed away from the wall, unloading the rest of the magazine in the direction of Locke’s prone form. He couldn’t see if any of the shots hit.

Garrett went back to the safety of the wall to reload. He peeked out and saw that the spot where Locke had been lying was empty except for a backpack. Locke had taken the few seconds when Garrett was reloading to get up and move, but to where?

Garrett heard grinding stone. It sounded like the motion of a huge rock from the other end of the Ark. From the wall. He also heard groans of people straining, then he saw something that astonished him.

It was faint, but it was there. A light from outside. Another exit. Of course! The wall at the back of the cave where Hasad Arvadi had directed him to three years ago wasn’t just a wall. There was a door!

He had a way out. And now, thanks to Locke, he could see in the darkness again. He pushed the starlight night vision goggles back down and flipped them on. Just as Cutter had told him, the faint light from outside was enough to make it look like the cavern was bathed in green sunlight.

His vision for a New World was still possible! God had answered his prayers.

He could see Grant Westfield and Dilara Kenner struggling to push the door open, but Locke wasn’t with them. Garrett leaned out to finish them, but three more shots from Locke’s pistol kept him pinned down.

Locke was somewhere among the vast number of ceramic urns at the opposite cave wall. If Garrett could zero in the exact one, the pottery would be easily shattered by the machine gun bullets, revealing Locke’s hiding place.

Westfield and Kenner strained at the door until the gap was wide enough for them to slip through. They disappeared through the opening.

Garrett scanned the urns again.

There! Behind three shoulder-height pots. Garrett could barely see the top of Locke’s helmet behind the middle urn. He stepped out from behind the wall and aimed the submachine gun at Locke’s head.

SEVENTY-ONE

Locke was down to his final two bullets, so he had to make them count. Dilara’s helmet was perched on top of the pot, and he was crouched on the ground with just enough room to see between the urns. He would only get one chance, and the infrared viewfinder in his helmet made it difficult for him to aim precisely. He didn’t want to waste the last two bullets on a low percentage shot.

Garrett’s glowing red form emerged from the wall with the weapon leveled at the top of the urns. He was right in Locke’s sights. It wasn’t going to get better than this. Locke targeted Garrett’s head. He fired at the same time Garrett did.

The sound of his two shots was drowned out by the crack of Garrett’s submachine gun. Shards of pottery showered down around Locke as he watched Garrett’s head snap backward. His body crumpled to the ground.

The slide of the pistol was locked back, indicating the magazine was indeed empty. Locke holstered it, stood, and limped over to Garrett. With the infrared goggles, he could see Garrett’s prone red form and the hot yellow gun lying between him and the wall.

He saw the bulb of Garrett’s flashlight still faintly glowing. He picked it up, clicked it on, and shined it on Garrett’s torso. The amulet was in his left vest pocket. While Locke fished it out, he pointed the light at Garrett’s face. Instead of a bullet hole in Garrett’s forehead, he saw the smashed Starlight goggles askew on his scalp.

Garrett’s eyes flew open, and Locke could see the rage in them. Before he could react, Garrett kicked him in the leg where the bullet wound was. Locke screamed in agony. He dropped the flashlight but kept hold of the amulet in his right hand. He was determined not to let it go again. Garrett leapt to his feet, threw the goggles aside, and crouched into a fighter’s stance.

Locke was just trying to keep from passing out from the pain. He focused on getting past Garrett to the submachine gun lying next to the wall.

“I want that amulet back,” Garrett said. He lunged, striking Locke in the chest and knocking the wind out of him, but Locke was able to swing his right hand around and smash the rock-hard amulet into Garrett’s head. Locke never heard a more satisfying sound than the smack of the orb against Garrett’s skull.

While Locke caught his breath, Garrett reeled backward, shook it off, then charged again. This time, Locke fell to his good knee and struck with an uppercut straight into Garrett’s solar plexus. Garrett doubled over, and Locke elbowed Garrett in the kidney, sending him to the ground.

Locke stood and began hobbling toward the submachine gun. Garrett, who recovered much faster than Locke anticipated, lashed out with his leg, tripping Locke onto his back. Garrett jumped onto Locke’s prone form, punching him with fury.

Locke reached up, grabbed Garrett by the back of the head with his left hand, and rammed his helmet into Garrett’s face. Blood gushed from Garrett’s ruined teeth and nose. Then with all his strength, Locke used his good leg to flip Garrett up and over his head. Only too late did he realize that Garrett was rolling toward the wall and the submachine gun.

Despite the pain of his splintered face, Garrett sensed the weapon lying under him, the barrel still warm. He spit blood from his mouth and grabbed the submachine gun. He sat up and fired wildly in the direction where Locke had just been.

The bullets hit only cave floor and pottery pieces. Garrett found Locke’s silhouette against the light streaming through the cave door. He was stumbling toward the exit, a backpack on his shoulder.

Garrett took off in pursuit, shooting as he ran. He wasn’t able to hit Locke before he went through the opening. Still, at the rate Locke was going, he wouldn’t get far.

It was sad, really, how close Locke had been to escaping. But it would make Garrett’s satisfaction all the sweeter. He’d follow Locke outside and gun him down just as he reached freedom.

Garrett reached the exit and peered through, ready for an ambush, but Locke was staggering toward the cave entrance. Garrett fired again, and Locke fell to his knees.

Locke turned and tossed something in Garrett’s direction. It rolled toward him like a grenade.

“Take it!” Locke said. “Just let us go!”

As it rolled closer, Garrett saw the amber hue, dazzling in the backdrop of sunlight. He knelt to pick up the amulet and stuffed it in his pocket.

Locke left his pack behind and got up, desperately trying to make it outside.

Garrett shook his head and reloaded a fresh magazine. Unarmed and injured, Locke must have thought giving him the amulet was a worthy last resort. Garrett casually walked toward the cave entrance, the machine gun trained on Locke, who was limping wretchedly. Garrett’s head throbbed, but he felt elated. This was going to be too easy.

“You can never defeat me, Tyler,” Garrett gloated.

Locke stopped just outside the cave entrance and turned. He was now bathed in the midday sun. And for some reason, he had a smile on his face. Garrett shook his head again.

Locke was delusional.

Garrett’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Locke knew he might die right here, but at least he got to see that Sebastian Garrett’s golden-boy face was now a mess of blood and broken bones.

Garrett was halfway down the cave, his machine gun aiming right at Locke, his smug grin telling Locke everything he needed to know. Garrett hadn’t seen what Locke left inside the cave.

“I tried to get you to think about all the angles,” Locke said.

“I did,” Garrett said. “You lose. Again.”

Locke shook his head. “I win,” Locke said and pulled the trigger on the RCV controller.

The remote-controlled vehicle he had placed when he pretended to fall was pointed straight at the crusty box of sweating dynamite. It whirred to life, and Garrett glanced down as the vehicle accelerated past his feet. Then his head turned, and he saw the corroded boxes. Locke was sure Cutter told Garrett how delicate the explosives inside them were. So sensitive that getting hit by a five-pound toy traveling 40 miles an hour would detonate them.

Locke saw the revelation dawning on Garrett’s face a fraction too late to stop the RCV. Locke propelled himself to the side with his good leg just as Garrett squeezed the trigger on the submachine gun. Bullets coursed through the air where Locke’s head had just been.

As he hit the ground, the RC vehicle hit the box of dynamite and the cave exploded. Locke used his momentum to roll against the cliff face. He covered his head and felt the fireball fly by him, singeing his clothes.

The roof of the cave collapsed, snuffing the explosion and sending out huge volumes of dust. He looked up Mt. Ararat, expecting an avalanche. A few rocks bounced down, but that was it.

Locke sat up and put his back against the cliff.

Grant and Dilara emerged from their refuge behind a rock. Both of them hobbled over and sank to the ground next to him. Their clothes were battered and ripped, they were covered in dust and grime, and spots of blood were everywhere. Locke was sure he was even worse. He felt as bad as each of them looked. They were going to get that nice clean helicopter very dirty, and Locke couldn’t care less.

“If this is your idea of archaeology,” Dilara said, “you are never going on a dig with me again.”

“I promise,” Locke said. “Right now, I’m thinking more about finding a hotel with room service.

“All I want,” Grant said, “is a warm, comfy bed and about 20 milligrams of morphine.”

“Garrett’s dead?” Dilara asked.

Locke nodded. “He’s in that cave. Blown to bits and buried with the Ark.”

“And the amulet?”

“Incinerated in the blast. It’s gone.”

“Good, because the Ark will be excavated some day. I guarantee that.” She took her camera out. “The archaeological community can’t ignore this.”

“You, my friend, got away with something in there,” Grant said. “I saw the night vision goggles Cutter had. I’m sure Garrett had the same thing. He could have used them at any time.”

“What do you mean?” Dilara said.

“Those were Gen-Three goggles,” Locke said. “Very powerful. They amplify light 50,000 times. Garrett could have simply turned on his flashlight and tossed it away. The light from it would have been enough for him to use the goggles and hunt me down. But I took the chance that he’d panic and wouldn’t want to part with his only flashlight. That’s why I blew up the crevice entrance and blocked the light coming through.”

“What if he had gone to the cave’s exit door and opened it?” Dilara asked.

“He didn’t know about it.”

“How could you be sure?”

“Just a guess. Even though Sebastian Garrett was extremely intelligent, he had one big flaw.”

“What’s that?”

Locke smiled. “He wasn’t an engineer.”

SEVENTY-TWO

Locke stood on the balcony of his room in the Istanbul Four Seasons and drained the last of his morning coffee. Rain clouds loomed over the minarets of the Hagia Sophia, but he could see blue sky in the distance. The sun should come out just in time for his walk with Dilara.

He set the cup down and walked back inside, his leg protesting each step. The doctor said it would ache for another few weeks, but he didn’t need a cane. The bullet wound had been painful, but not serious.

Locke didn’t bother to turn on the television. He knew what would be on the news. It had been three days since they escaped from Noah’s Ark, and the world was just starting to become aware of the discovery of the map in Khor Virap. The implication that it could lead to unearthing Noah’s Ark had the media in a frenzy. Locke had been able to keep out of the limelight and let Dilara and her father take all of the credit.

Still, his role gave them some perks. After they’d found the mercenaries’ radios, they had the helicopter take them back to Van, where they were all treated for their injuries. Of course, the three dead bodies had raised lots of questions with the Turkish authorities, but Sherman Locke’s pull with his political allies in Washington combined with the evidence on Dilara’s camera convinced the Turks that the questions could be answered later, as long as they all stayed in the country for a few days.

The blood loss from Grant’s knife injury required a few nights’ stay in Istanbul’s finest hospital, where he underwent surgery on his torn shoulder muscle. His recuperation would take longer than Locke’s, but he was expected to make a full recovery. Locke and Dilara would check him out of the hospital later that morning, but they had one thing to do first.

“Ready?” Locke said.

Dilara sat at a table gazing at a small urn. It held Hasad Arvadi’s cremated remains. After the autopsy in Yerevan, the police in Armenia had expedited the paperwork and shipped his body back to Turkey. Dilara elected not to have a memorial service. Most of Arvadi’s friends and colleagues were in America, and it had been Arvadi’s wish for his native Turkey to be his final resting place.

“Dilara?”

She nodded and wiped her face. She lovingly cradled the urn in her arm. “Yes. Let’s go.”

They exited the hotel and began the short walk to the Kennedy Caddesi. They strolled slowly. Locke sensed that Dilara wanted to take her time. She finally broke the silence.

“I wish he could have seen it. He was so close.”

“I think he’d be glad you found it,” Locke said. “And he’d like that you’re dropping Kenner and going back to Arvadi.”

“It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

“Dilara and Hasad Arvadi are going to be famous names.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to share the credit?”

“Not my style,” Locke said. “Besides, Miles Benson is already milking our exploits for future contracts. No, you and your father deserve it.”

“You saved the world, you know.”

“Makes me think the Bible needs to be reinterpreted again. God’s covenant with Noah said He’d never wipe out humanity again.”

“But He didn’t.”

“Only because we stopped Garrett from using the Arkon weapon.”

“How do you know you’re not God’s envoy? God works in mysterious ways. You yourself said that the Ark was a miracle.”

“I’ll give you that. It was pretty amazing to find it intact after all these centuries. But that was a factor of its location and isolation. All of it could be explained scientifically. Nothing supernatural about it.”

“That’s the beauty and complexity of God’s work. There are lots of ways to interpret it.”

“I have to admit,” Locke said, “I was too quick to shoot down your theories about the Ark.”

“What about your reputation as an inveterate skeptic?”

“There’s no harm keeping an open mind.” He took Dilara’s hand. “So a few more days here and then back to Mt. Ararat for you?”

“I’ve already contacted the Turkish government about excavating the site. Since it’s my discovery, and I have the only photos of the interior, they’ve been willing to involve me. But the process could take months, then digging through those tunnels will take a while, not to mention surveying the interior. Properly, this time.”

“Sounds like you’ll be there a long time. I have to go back to Seattle soon.”

She nodded. “Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll both be ready to settle down.”

“Maybe someday,” he said and squeezed her hand.

They reached the avenue of Kennedy Caddesi and crossed it to the sea wall along the Sea of Marmara. The Asian side of Istanbul was on the opposite shore, and ships crowded the link between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean.

Locke let Dilara go, and she walked to the water. He saw her lips moving, then she knelt and poured the ashes of her father into the water.

She stood, fingering the locket at her neck. Locke went over and wrapped his arms around her.

They stayed that way for a while. Finally, Dilara turned.

“Shall we go get Grant?”

“You go on ahead. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll take him out for a big lunch. I’m sure he’s starving after eating hospital food for three days.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got an errand to run. Gordian business.”

He kissed her, then enjoyed the view as she strode off toward the hospital. Now there went a woman who had purpose. Locke found it incredibly sexy.

She looked back once and waved. He waved back and lost sight of her as she rounded the corner.

Locke hailed a cab.

“Araco Steel works,” he said to the driver.

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi drove through an industrial sector of the city. Smokestacks cleaved the sky. The cab pulled to a stop in front of the gate of a massive iron foundry. Through the building’s large open door, Locke could see sparks flying where molten steel was being poured.

“Wait here,” Locke said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” The driver nodded and slipped the cab into idle.

At the gate, he showed his passport. “Miles Benson arranged for me to go in.”

The bored guard looked at his log sheet, gave him a hard hat, and waved him through.

Gordian had consulted on one of Araco’s mills in Bulgaria, so Miles knew the owner. It seemed like Miles’ reserve of contacts was bottomless, but Locke didn’t question or complain. It was Miles’ schmoozing skills that had built Gordian into an engineering powerhouse.

It also made Locke’s current plan much easier.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Dilara what he was doing. He told himself it was because she didn’t need to know, but deep down he supposed it could be because he didn’t want to put her in any more danger. He’d already lost one person he loved. He didn’t know if he loved Dilara, but he cared about her, and the events of the past two weeks made him realize he wasn’t ready to risk losing someone else he cared about.

The foundry building was stifling. The heat from the blast furnace washed over him like a summer afternoon in Phoenix. He scaled a ladder to the second level catwalk. When he was over one of the hoppers containing molten iron, he reached into his pocket and extracted the Amulet of Shem.

The amber gleamed in the fire light, revealing the outline of the amphibian that could have caused countless deaths. When Locke tossed the solid amber orb to Garrett, he didn’t think Garrett would take the time to inspect it closely, not with so much going on. And Locke didn’t want to take the chance of the amulet being recovered when Noah’s Ark was eventually excavated. Somebody would have used it to redevelop the prion weapon. Locke was sure of it. Then all of his efforts would have been for nothing.

No one knew Locke had the real amulet. Not Dilara. Not Grant. If the US military found out he had it, soldiers would have swooped in before Locke got off the plane in Istanbul.

Locke looked at it one last time, marveling at how something so simple and beautiful could be so deadly. Then with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the molten iron. The orb caught fire and settled into the 3000-degree liquid. The prions were destroyed at last.

He climbed back down and gave back the hard hat at the front gate. His cell phone rang. It was Miles Benson.

“Thanks for setting us up in the Four Seasons, Miles.”

“Not at all, Tyler. You rate it. We’re settling all of the lawsuits on the truck case, thanks to you. Won’t use a cent of Gordian’s money. All of it comes courtesy of Garrett’s estate. Did you get into the foundry?”

“I’m just leaving.”

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me why you needed to get in there.”

“I’ll tell you when I see you in a week.”

“I may have to cut short your vacation. Your recent escapades have gotten us a lot of attention in military and law enforcement circles. I have a few new projects brewing, and you’re just the man for the job. Is Grant out of the hospital yet?”

“I’m about to pick him up.”

“Well, tell him to get his butt out of bed. I need you both.”

Locke suppressed a laugh. Miles knew how to milk a business opportunity. “Sorry, Miles you’re breaking up. Bad reception. I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

“Tyler, do you know how much money…” Locke ended the connection and turned off the phone’s ringer. Gordian and the rest of the world would survive without him for a week. He needed a little time to relax.

As he opened the back door of the cab, he felt a mist on his face, the last of the rain before the clouds disappeared. He looked up and wondered what Dilara would make of the phenomenon arcing across the sky. It had a perfectly rational scientific reason for existing, but she might think it had greater significance given their latest experience.

I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.

Whatever the explanation, he stayed there for a moment and appreciated the sight, a reminder that life was short and that you might as well stop to revel in nature’s beauty once in a while. And Locke had to admit, no matter who or what was responsible for creating it, he’d never seen a more beautiful rainbow.