Chapter 32

Midnight in the town of Axum brought a darkness that was not quite as complete as what they had experienced high on Mt. Ararat or in Iran, but still lacking light pollution much more than the typical western city. After being dropped off by a cab at a nearby hotel, they walked a mile or so to the Church of St. Mary of Zion. It was closed at this hour, which Carter and Jayden considered both good and bad. Good, because it meant there would be fewer witnesses around to observe their activities. Bad, because they had no excuse to be here and no one else to blend in with.

They made a beeline for the side of the Chapel of the Tablet that faced away from the main church, since there was no road facing that side. When they reached the fence there, Jayden removed the new clippers he’d purchased in town from his pack while Carter kept a careful watch. The fence had crossbars so that Jayden was able to climb up high enough without a hand from Carter to reach the razor wire with the clippers. These were thick, circular steel coils, not simple barbed wire strands, and it took some doing, and a couple of minor nicks that drew blood from Jayden’s hands, even through the pair of work gloves he wore for the task. But he cut through one entire section, and from there they were able to pull it off to the side and tangle it into the fence itself so that there was a razor-free section in the middle.

Over this they climbed, Jayden first, since he was already up there. He dropped with barely a sound to the Chapel grounds and scouted their surroundings while Carter made the climb over. Once inside the fence, they ran to the side of the chapel so that they would at least be partially hidden from view by the building. They made their way slowly around the chapel to the side with the only door. Earlier that day they had noticed it was open behind the red curtain, and the curtain was still there now, but they were about to find out if they locked the door at night.

“You’d think with one of the most precious artifacts of all time that they’d lock the place up at night,” Jayden had said earlier, and Carter agreed that seemed to make sense. Except that this was Africa, this was Axum, Ethiopia, the church with the Ark of the Covenant, and here nothing made sense.

“It’s open,” Carter whispered after pulling the curtain back and poking his head around the corner. He chalked it up to the reality that they had a guard inside at all times, and maybe the fact that as a place reputed to hold the most sacred of religious objects, perhaps they felt people, including criminals, would be inclined to leave it alone, such was the power of the Ark. Or maybe they just forgot? But Carter doubted they got that lucky.

From his brief glimpse inside he couldn’t see much, because there was a partition only a few feet in from the doorway that blocked all view of the rest of the interior. He slipped past the curtain, waving for Jayden to follow. Once inside the doorway, they were shielded from outside view by the curtain and from inside view by the partition. Now they faced whatever awaited them inside, namely the Guardian of the Ark.

Where was he? They could hear nothing to indicate the presence of another human. Using hand signals, Carter indicated for Jayden to take the left side while he took the right. Peering around the edges of the partition, they both took in the view of the inside at the same time.

#

After hours of uneventful surveillance, Daedalus almost missed it. He had been staring at his smartphone screen while parked in his rental car, an economy sedan that wouldn’t attract much attention on its own, out in front of the Church of St. Mary of Zion when he happened to look up in time to see two dark-clad figures disappearing behind the doorway curtain of the church. How silly to leave the church open all night when it supposedly safeguards such a powerful treasure, Daedalus thought. Ridiculous! It must be just another fake, no different than every other church in this town, the Greek antiquities dealer thought. The Ark of the Covenant, hah!

And yet, as someone who had made a fortune off of trading relics, he knew that it was the myth, the lore, the story behind the object that held as much appeal as the physical representation of that thing itself. Ethiopia was a poor nation, and its people took pride in what they did have, which was the legend of Queen Sheba and how the Ark of the Covenant was brought back here from Jerusalem by her son. So they claimed it was down inside this special church outbuilding, safe from prying eyes… sure it was… but where was the harm in that? No doubt it made the people feel good, and it even made a lot of the people who visited it feel good. Just not him, because he knew it was all hooey. And yet, the question still nagged at his consciousness: Why were these two serious treasure hunters here all the way from Mt. Ararat?

Daedalus was glad he had come here alone. No need to waste the time and resources of his entire team on this silly goose chase. Right now they were preparing the excavation of Noah’s Ark from the lake, a task made more difficult since it had to be done in a covert manner. He was not about to apply for a permit and have the Turkish government swoop in and claim the find for their own, as they had done with other archaeological finds on Mt. Ararat in the past. No, Noah’s Ark was all his, and the Ark of the Covenant, if it was real, would be his as well.

But he still saw no reason why those two thorns in his side had come to this place, right now. What was the connection? Yes, the Titanic map featured enhanced detail for this region, but… so what? It didn’t show anything here, no X-marks-the-spot, no text of any kind… how did they conclude that it was worth travelling all the way here, and breaking into a fortified church building in the middle of the night (at least they had cut the razor wire for him).

Daedalus waited another few minutes to make sure they wouldn’t be run out of the place by the guard immediately, and also that no one was observing him sitting in his dark car by himself. But they didn’t come back out and as far as he could tell he was the only one out here.

Daedalus checked that the magazine on his Heckler & Koch MK 23 large-frame pistol was full, and that the sound-suppressor was fitted properly. He preferred the 1911 he’d had on Mt. Ararat before it was stolen by Carter Hunt, but this would have to do. Then he stepped out of his car and quietly closed the door.

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