Carpathian

PROLOGUE

The great multitude of humanity stretched out as far as the eye could see. The eight-hour trek had been filled with hardship and death for the Hebrew tribes as they continued to slog across the floodplain of the Sea of Reeds. The lost nation from the land of Goshen had made the passing of the large body of shallow water before the tide set upon them.

As the many tribes neared the end of the desperate gamble made by an even more desperate general, the rearguard element of Israelite soldiers came under grievous attack by the lead scouts and charioteers of Libyan axmen. The axmen were the forward vanguard of Crown Prince Amun-her-khepeshef’s grand army of one thousand chariots. Amun-her-khepeshef was the firstborn son of Pharaoh Ramesses II and was chosen specially for his historically ruthless treatment of all enemies of Egypt, and would lead the army of Ramesses to avenge the loss of so many during the plagues cast down upon the Egyptian people by the Hebrew leader — Moses the Deliverer, the onetime great-uncle to the crown prince himself and one of the greatest generals in all of Egyptian military history.

The rear guard of Hebrew forces was fashioned from elements of the twenty-two tribes of Israelite pilgrims. The shabbily clad soldiers held their ground for as long as they could against the fierce axmen of the Libyan deserts. The rear guard was meant to hold off the lead infantry soldiers of the army of Pharaoh until the signal was given to break off the defense of the floodplain. This would be done just before the larger lines of charioteers entered the trap set by the prophet. The sun was just starting to reach the fourth hour past midday. The Hebrew retreat had not rested for more than four days since the flight from Pharaoh and his two lands of Upper and Lower Egypt.

The main cohort of the Egyptian army hesitated at the edge of the muddy seabed. The battle-hardened soldiers watched as the last of the Hebrew rear guard, after brutally attacking their lead elements, fled back into the mire and stinging nettles of the Sea of Reeds.

The path of the 128,000 men, women, and children, along with their vanguard of many beasts of burden, was made clearly visible in the mud and the beaten path made by this great multitude of humanity. The trail was more than a mile wide and snaked across the muddy plain until the trampled earth disappeared into the late afternoon sun. The lead chariot stopped and watched as the last of the Hebrew soldiers vanished into the tall reeds that lined the retreat of the Exodus from the land of Pharaoh.

“Great one, we should await the coming of the morrow sun to continue the pursuit,” said Amun-her-khepeshef’s commander of the Egyptian host as he stood beside the crown prince just as the perfectly matched set of black horses pulling his chariot pawed at the ground nervously. The wind had started to pick up and the smell that struck the Egyptian’s nostrils was that of the returning sea. “The tide comes in and we have little time to cross the sea as it rises. We must wait lest our main strength and advantage of chariot and speed of horse will be lost in the mud and rising tide.”

“This ends today. The pursuit has carried on far too long. I have a thousand chariots filled with weary soldiers who tire of the chase. My father wishes this put to an end and until I have the head of Moses on the tip of my spear we will continue. Look at the retreat of the Hebrew army and people. Their God is as bad a general as Moses is a prophet. Spy to the east, Commander,” he said pointing. “The sea is now at his back and this shallow pond is no obstacle at all to the Egyptian host.”

Crown Prince Amun-her-khepeshef raised his right hand with his spear pointed to the long trail of retreat and thrust the bronz-tipped weapon forward. The action brought the thunderous roar of two thousand horses to action as the first of the charioteers rode into the low floodplains of the Sea of Reeds. For almost an hour and a half the grand army of Ramesses II chased the remains of the fleeing Hebrew nation into history and legend.

The charioteers rumbled through the quickly drying mud and sand. The wind was now nearing gale force and the many soldiers of Ramesses II knew the day had turned to an evil portent of things yet to come. Prince Amun-her-khepeshef’s chariot was in the middle of the fast moving units as they pursued the rear elements of the Israelites.

The horses were tiring as they fought for footing in the drying seabed. Mud covered most of the soldiers’ bodies and equipment of war, and the well-trained army was now growing as weary as their animals as they became weighted down by the sticky, thickening mud.

Without warning the lead chariots started slowing, and as Crown Prince Amun-her-khepeshef’s chariot followed suit he saw the reason for the abrupt halt. The first light waves of the returning sea splashed among the horses’ hooves and the wheels of the chariots. A nervous flutter flitted through the four thousand soldiers of the Egyptian host. The rumors of the strange abilities of the Hebrew prophet had slithered down to every man, woman, and child of Upper and Lower Egypt. Most of the soldiers had the deep-seated conviction that they would never see the Nile River after this day.

“The tide is coming in, Great One, we must turn and await a better time to cross,” said his general of the host as the horses started to rear up against the fast rising sea.

“I can see the trailing elements of the traitors’ animal herd. We are close to finishing this bloody errand — it ends here — it ends today,” Amun-her-khepeshef said again as his brown eyes flashed in the dying light of day. “These ungrateful people will pay for the lives lost and the traitorous way in which they have treated my father and the land that sustained them for centuries.”

As he spoke the wind died as quickly as it had sprung up and then they heard the rush of water as it covered the lower half of the chariot’s wheels. The force of the returning sea frightened the battle-hardened soldiers of Pharaoh’s army until they were told that the saltwater would rise slowly for the next three hours and never achieve the depth they need fear. The crown prince knew then that they would have the time needed to do their butchery before the sun had set that day.

The prince ordered the pursuit to continue as the sun became hidden behind the black and ominously roiling clouds that now covered the sky from east to west and north to south. The pitch-black heavens in the late afternoon were something the men of Pharaoh’s army had never seen before the coming of this day. The clouds seemed to be spinning in a terrifying rush to close off the heavens from the sight of men. As the prince looked around him he saw the thousands of horses of the army start to stomp at the water and shy away from the approaching tide of the returning sea.

“Great One, there to the east, look!” his general called out as he tried to pierce the sudden darkness of the false night as he fought the reins to control the matched black horses.

Off to the east on a small rise of land that was an island when the tide was in stood a figure flanked by two other men. The tallest of the three stepped forward and even though the men were more than half a mile away, the crown prince knew exactly whom he was spying.

“The Great Deliverer awaits the host of Pharaoh’s army,” the crown prince said as he once more raised his spear to the sky. “He is not the weak man I had taken him for. So be it, onetime uncle, today you meet your one true God!”

“Some say he is the greatest general of the two kingdoms and is led by a singular God,” the general said as he watched the man close to a mile away raise both arms and spread them wide and then suddenly lower both and tap the ground beneath his feet three times with his long, crooked staff.

“This is quite enough. Bring me the head of the false Egyptian!” the crown prince shouted as he ordered the host forward into the deepening Sea of Reeds.

The thousand chariots started forward slowly as their wheels began to get mired in the mud, swirling sand, and rising waters. As they started to get bogged down in their haste to reach the Hebrew army they saw the man on the slowly shrinking island raise both arms once more to the blackened sky.

The attack signal had been given.

Before the men of the Egyptian host knew what was happening they were assaulted from all sides. The black shapes sprang from the water. They struck from behind large stands of reeds and from the mud. The crown prince heard the shouts and the screams of men as they were taken from their chariots by unseen forces that had sprung seemingly from the bowels of the underworld. He watched as a black, mud-covered shape shot up, shedding water, black mud, and sea grass and took the general that had been standing next to him but a moment before and all that was left was one of the man’s sandals.

Screams of men and horses pierced the false night around him. Arrows were loosed in a frenzy to get away from the unknown and deadly attackers. Un-aimed arrows flew around the prince like angry hornets as men fought for their lives. More shouts of frightened soldiers sounded when the large, black-fur-covered animals vanished after mauling a quarter of his chariot force. The Libyan axmen taking up the middle of the Egyptian formation had been decimated by the ambush. As soon as the last of the beasts had disappeared back into the mud and water, the archers of the Hebrew forces started loosing arrows by the thousands into the dark sky.

Amun-her-khepeshef took the reins of the shaking and rearing chariot and snapped the leather straps to get his twin black Arabian horses back to the attack. Before the horses could take purchase in the mud and water something rose from the sea and made the horses rear up to protect themselves. The beast was enormous. It tossed one horse to the side and that harsh action forced the other large Arabian to follow suit. The momentum of both horses going down twisted the chariot until it became airborne, throwing the crown prince into the rising foulness that was the Sea of Reeds.

Amun-her-khepeshef came up spitting vile saltwater from his mouth and dripping from his nose. Before he could catch his breath amidst the screams of torment of his many thousands of men, he was taken by the throat and lifted from the stinking mire. The long fingers of the animal were something the crown prince could not believe he was seeing. As his eyes widened at the sight of the humanlike digits he tried to move his head to see the beast that was going to kill him. As his eyes rose they came face-to-face with an animal he had always heard tales of from his Hebrew servants. They had been mere stories to scare all Egyptian children about a mighty beast that guarded the eastern gates of the empire. The Golia were mythical animals sent by the god of the Egyptian underworld for the defense of the two lands. Now the prince saw that the subject of those tales that had been meant to frighten him as a boy was now staring right at him. The beast’s yellow eyes glowed brightly as its huge muzzle opened wide to allow the prince to see the sharp teeth and the saliva dripping from them. The mud covering the animal was crusted and smelled of dead things and that was when the prince, the firstborn son of Ramesses II, knew these animals had buried themselves in the mud of the plain after the tide had left and waited until the sea had returned to spring their trap.

The onetime children’s tale raised its muzzle to the sky and the howl of triumph filled the blackened sky as the crown prince of Egypt was slowly torn limb from limb.

A half a mile away the old and weary man was assisted down from the island and eased into a small ark. His gray hair and beard were covered by thick robes as he bent his head in utter weariness.

“Is it over?” one of the Hebrew soldiers asked as the two men pushed the small dugout toward the eastern shore of the Sea of Reeds.

“This day the Lord has sent us the true deliverers of the people to do battle for us, and after this night you will see the armies of Pharaoh never more.”

The men saw the old man lower his head and cover his face with the fold of his robe. The killing was far from over and their flight just beginning and the awful truth of their situation was sitting before them weeping and forever crazed by events never meant for a human to experience. The old man rested for the years of fleeing ahead of them.

The men around him knew Moses the Deliverer was dying.

In the fading light of the setting sun the elder stood upon the rise and looked to the west as a freshening breeze brought the smell of desert water to his nostrils. He slowly reached up and pulled the shroud from his head — the hair was once brown with strength but now it was colored gray with age and to the elder that translated to the color of guilt. If the tribal elder strained his aging eyes into the setting sun he could almost see the shimmer of the River Jordan many miles distant. He knew this to be wishful thinking on his behalf, as the river ran deep, cutting itself into the small valley beyond the hills and plain of Moab — thus impossible to see from this great distance. As he watched the sun finally set beyond the great sea to the west he saw the oil lamps of the city start to illuminate the desert surrounding the last obstacle standing in the way of a promised homeland for his people.

“The city seems to come to life after the setting of the sun. But the real truth be it never sleeps. The city is a live, breathing animal — an animal that stands between your people and their new home.”

Joshua didn’t turn at the sound of the deep voice behind him, instead he once more placed the shroud upon his head.

“The task before us is great,” Joshua said, “even more so than our flight from Pharaoh. The walls of Jericho are too thick, too high, and there are too many Canaanites defending them. I fear they outnumber the forces of our Lord five to one.”

“There will be no trick of light or mysterious plague that delivers the city of Jericho unto you. The walls must fall and it will take an effort unlike any that has come before, Joshua, son of Nun. As before, brother, you stand against the impossible.”

The smaller man finally turned and faced his visitor. The five-man bodyguard, men who were now Joshua’s constant companions, watched the much larger elder of the tribe of Jeddah. Joshua, the leader of the Israelites, tried to see the eyes under the many folds of the hooded robe, but the darkness there was as complete as the night sky.

“They have caught every man and woman I have sent into the city to gather the information I need. My forward elements tell me their heads are even now spiked to the front gates of that cursed city.”

The visitor to the encampment stood silent knowing Joshua had not finished what he had to say. Even after three years of separation the visitor knew Joshua better than all but one man.

Joshua ben Nun of the tribe of Ephraim placed a hand on the shoulder of his guest as he gestured with his other toward the open tent and the welcoming smell of cooking meat.

“Come, friend Kale, we will break bread and share the meat offered by our new homeland. It has been three very long years since we spoke, my friend. The tribes of man have missed your tribe and its brotherhood. Your rearguard action against our many enemies has brought us through the harshest of lands to this, the home Moses has led us unto.”

The large man hesitated as he saw the women of Joshua inside preparing the evening meal. He stopped short of the tent’s opening and refused entrance into the house of the man who had replaced Moses the Deliverer. The new leader of the chosen saw the fear in the women’s faces as they finally spied just who their guest was. When their eyes saw the robed figure next to their husband and father, they scurried from the tent, not waiting long enough to serve the master of the house. The women, with eyes lowered, were all careful to skirt past Joshua with heads bowed, but even more so in deference to the hooded figure next to him.

“Forgive them, old friend. Old fears never leave us, they just settle in like mud between your toes and harden like the hearts of men. And even if you remove that mud the stain of filth is still there.”

“The fears of women and children do not concern me, brother Joshua. You and the Deliverer before you have perpetrated the falsity of my tribe to the others, thus necessitating their fears. We are nothing but butchers and witches — nothing more than a tribe of magicians and tricksters to them. And it has been three years, two months, and eighteen days since the Jeddah have joined with other men of Israel.”

Joshua gestured for his guest to sit. Kale refused. When offered bread, another refusal.

“I will break bread with my people tonight,” Kale said. “The Jeddah have been on the march since the turning of the season. The treasure wagons are still months behind.”

Joshua finally removed his shroud and then shook his head.

“I am the most tired man on God’s great earth, brother Kale. We heard of your battle against the Canaanite charioteers near the plain of Deeab.” Joshua noticed the lowered head of his oldest friend and the greatest warrior he had ever seen in action for the Egyptians, or against them. “Did you lose many warriors of the tribe of Jeddah?”

“All told since the Great Exodus, the Jeddah have been sacrificed to the count of one thousand soldiers.”

The tent was silent as Joshua bowed his head in a silent prayer. He slowly raised his face to the highest part of his tent as if he were seeking wisdom from the highest of sources. Joshua took a deep breath.

“A heavy toll, brother, but a necessary one I fear, just as the task ahead will also take a heavy toll on the chosen,” he hesitated momentarily, “and of the Golia. Thirty-six years of wandering, Kale. Of never finding the home promised by our Lord. We need your soldiers and your animals this one last time.”

“We have lost all but twelve of the Golia. And there are only two females left to continue the breed. The remainder cannot be risked.” Kale softened his voice when he saw that Joshua was actually pained by not only the loss of the soldiers of the Jeddah tribe, but also because of the battle deaths of the magnificent animals that made their Exodus from the land of Pharaoh possible. The special breed of beast were slowly being killed off nearly to extinction for the benefit of the other tribes. “The Golia alone broke the son of Ramesses at the Sea of Reeds while the Hebrew army escaped and crossed the wetlands. An escape made possible by the loss of twenty of the most prized male Golia. And then last month on the plain of Deeab, eight more males and three of the remaining females were lost when they attacked the enemy of Israel as they lay in ambush of the relief army you sent searching for us — or more to the point, the people’s spoils from the conquests of Egypt and Canaan.”

“Old friend, we owe the Lord’s greatest creation our very existence. Without the Golia, we never would have escaped the two lands—”

“As Moses promised me many years ago and you agreed, Joshua, I am taking the Golia and the tribe of Jeddah out of this land God has given unto the people. I am taking them to the far-off lands of the north where the Golia and the tribe of Jeddah can once again grow strong.” Kale looked his old friend in the eyes. “We have done the bidding of the Deliverer, and that of our Lord God. We have done what was said could not be done. We have died for the people of Israel and we have been their host of war. It is time to allow the Golia to live free once more.”

Joshua touched the shoulder of the much larger man. “You have taken the Jeddah and camped far from the other tribes this night. I had prayed that you would be among the children of Israel after your long journey into the land of Canaan. You have not broken bread with the other tribes since the Exodus from the land of Pharaoh.”

“You and the prophet before you know the many reasons why the Jeddah cannot live among the people. It has been this way since the days of Joseph, and before that, Abraham. They too found it a matter of convenience to hide us and the animals away until needed.”

“Your people, your tribe — are they not part of the chosen? Are they not a part of the plan of Moses, and therefore of God? In essence the Jeddah are God’s people … therefore, my people!”

“Do not overstep your bounds, Joshua. Moses found himself punished and banned from this land for far less arrogance. The Lord God of Hosts did not mean for us to kill off his greatest creation outside of man, the Golia.”

“Enough, Kale, I am not Moses! I do not have the gift of divine intervention. I am but a man — a very tired and worn man at that. No prophet.” He lowered his eyes, unable to meet those of Kale. “Some would even say no war general,” Joshua finished ashamedly as he finally looked up into the face of his greatest soldier. “We … no, I have need for the Jeddah and your — your very special kinship with the Golia one last time.”

“No!” Kale said loudly as he took a step back. “We have fought for the people since we fled Egypt. Now there are but two hundred men, women, and children left in the tribe of Jeddah, and half of those will not make it to see another summer.”

“It is your animals that are needed. The walls of Jericho must fall tonight.”

“The Golia are dying, dying for the tribes of Israel. They are dying, being killed off by the enemies of the chosen people. And what is the reward we offer them for their service to God and all of Israel? You offer the one thing the animals have come to hate, Joshua. They hate death. They hate their dishonor. They are sickened by what they have been asked to do against our brother man. You offer yet more carnage and then and only then can the Golia’s days of peace commence for an animal we turned warlike in nature. Only there will not be one animal left to cherish that peace, and their caretakers, my Jeddah, will not be far behind them in death.”

Joshua’s anger was legendary, but Kale did not flinch as the new leader of the Hebrews bound to his feet. The only movement Kale made was to lightly touch the bronze sword just under the folds of his large robe.

“Jericho must fall … it must fall tonight!”

“Then you had better marshal all your soldiers, old friend, because you take the city without the Jeddah and absent the Golia. I will not risk one more man of my tribe and not one more of the remaining animals will ever do murder for the people again.”

“Is it murder to kill for the sake of seeking a home for all of the children of Israel?”

“Find a home, but live among the people of this new land. Soldiers of the enemy may need to die, but not their women and children — a murderous task you have become rather adept at, Joshua.”

“Kale, after this night you and the Jeddah are free. The Golia will make the sojourn to the north with you. Take them and go as brothers.”

Kale stopped at the tent’s entrance but dared not ask the price of this surrender by Joshua.

“If you allow the Golia to accede to my battle plan, this city will fall tonight. After the walls of Jericho fall and the city burns you will be tasked with an even greater mission for the people of Israel.”

Kale allowed his shoulders to slump as he was now informed of Joshua’s true intent. The leader of the Jeddah knew Joshua as the most knowledgeable of men. Far more clever than even the prophet Moses when it came to the long-term plans of the children of Israel. Kale waited for the truth of his visit.

“After the fighting has finished in this land awash with water, tree, and fruit,” Joshua explained, “I fear the people will never have true peace even then. I fear it was not meant to be so.” Joshua went to Kale and touched the large man’s shoulder and the Jeddah leader turned to face his old friend. “The people’s treachery against God at Sinai has angered the Lord of Hosts and his punishment against his people for arrogance will be centuries of battle against the people and tribes of Canaan.” Joshua looked at Kale with pleading eyes. “Only two of the Golia will be risked for the chance at not only life for God’s beasts, but life for the Jeddah and a lasting chance for the people to have their heritage saved for them. In future battles we could lose our greatest treasures to the peoples of this land. After the fall of the city you will take that heritage with you and you will allow no man of any land and also no man of the chosen to ever know where our heritage lies hidden. That is your task. Leave us for your great stone mountains and I swear no man shall follow the Golia and the Jeddah. Two Golia and the casting of the spell — that is what I ask of the great Kale.”

“You swear on the stone tablets that you and the chosen will not follow my people and the Golia to the north?”

“After this night the Jeddah are free to take the Golia and Pharaoh’s artisans and engineers to erect the greatest temple in all of creation for the heritage of the people. Hide it well and you will never come to harm from the people of Israel.”

“What are you doing, brother? You are giving away king’s ransoms and our greatest gifts from God for what? So they will not be taken from the people when other greater armies come for you in the land of Canaan?” Kale stepped up to his old friend. “You lie to me, brother, why?”

Joshua turned away from Kale and removed his sword and then looked at it in the weak light cast from the oil lamps. “Because if we don’t hide away forever that which has been taken as spoils in battle and the gifts from God himself, the people will never become one with the land and we will be fighting the Canaanites for a thousand years to keep this land. As long as the riches of Egypt and the gifts from God remain with the people we will forever be fighting to protect that which is not important for life.”

“You may not speak with God, but you truly speak for the people of God. If they discover you have given away the greatest gifts God has bestowed upon the people, they will curse your name, brother. You give the Golia and the Jeddah the gifts from God to hide among the rocks and ice of the north and you will be cursed.”

Joshua laughed for the first time in what seemed like years.

“What could be worse than the gift of leadership that was bestowed upon me by Moses? No, my friend, I will not be killing my people off to protect treasure and heritage when it could all just vanish with you and yours into the night. The people fear the Golia, they will not follow. Build me my temple in the great stone mountains in the land of snow and frost and bury the treasure forever.”

“I will instruct the Golia. I will inform you of the plan of attack. After this night Jericho will fall, Brother Joshua. Then I will take my people and the Golia and leave this place of death forever.”

Joshua nodded. The deal had been struck and the Jeddah would do God’s bidding one last time. He gestured for Kale to look upon the map of the great city and he pointed out his plan for the final battle of the Golia for God’s chosen people.

In less than an hour Kale had summoned his two finest warriors for the casting of the spell and the link with the Golia.

The two guards in the south tower watched as the Hebrew army marched and demonstrated outside the city walls, their many thousand torches blazing a path of its march around their walls. The trumpets had started at sundown as they had every night since the four-month siege had started. One guard turned away and lifted a cloth from a bowl. He reached down and took a large chunk of stale bread, tore it in two, and tossed the smaller half to his companion. “Music makes me want food and drink.” He shook his head at the moldy bread in his hand. “But I guess rock-hard bread will have to do.”

The second tower guard accepted the bread and then turned to watch the drummers and the trumpeters, followed by sixty spear- and shield-wielding Hebrew soldiers continuing their march around the city walls.

“Those trumpets are maddening. They even invade my sleep.” The guard looked at the bread in his hand and then tossed it over the side. “They even steal the taste right from your mouth,” he said as he watched the bread sail over the edge of the tower and into the darkness below. “When will they attack?”

Chewing the bread with a look of disgust, the first guard paced the few feet to his companion and then tossed his own bread over the wall.

“They haven’t enough soldiers to do anything but lay siege. They will move on when they see that the walls of Jericho cannot be breached.”

The second chunk of five-day-old bread hit the rocks at the base of the six-foot-thick wall and rolled to the base of a small pomegranate tree. It was ignored by the large snout of the beast as its nostrils sought out other smells beyond that of the rotten food. As the bread came to rest only inches from the nose of the beast, the yellow eyes opened wider and the long muzzle of the wolf rose into the air and sniffed. The male could smell two men of Canaan. They were a hundred feet above the hidden male as it waited for the trumpets and drums to pass. In the darkness of the night the male slowly came to all fours directly under the guard tower. It sat and waited, smelled, making sure there were only the two men at this post. The beast sniffed the air once more and then turned its massive head to stare out at the small hills surrounding Jericho. At that moment two more of the Golia males slipped from hiding and with two great strides made it to the base of the wall.

Kale watched from a hidden location a mile away from the south wall. He saw the first animal as it watched its two male companions run past. Then the first beast raised his right paw upward and examined its padded foot. Slowly, methodically the Golia saw the clawed appendages coming from the knuckle just above the running pad, then the long fingers of the beast, which had been curled into a fist when not in use, extended until the long, slim, but powerful digits extended. The eight-inch black and purple claws were shining brightly in the moonlight on this, the last night in the history of the city of Jericho.

Kale looked back at the small fire and the two female attendants who watched over the two male warriors of the Jeddah as they sat silently and with eyes closed around the small fire. The women wiped sweat from their brows and dampened their mouths with water-soaked swatches. Both men of the Jeddah lay in a trance delivered from the spell and didn’t move except for the rising and falling of their chests as they breathed. The Golia were in control of the two men and would not relinquish that hold until their mission had been completed. Kale concentrated on the third animal at the base of the wall — the alpha male of the pack.

The giant beast felt Kale’s presence in its large brain. The leader of the tribe of Jeddah was reaching out to it. The beast shook its massive head, slinging the long, upright ears to the left and to the right. Saliva flew from its open muzzle as Kale came unbidden to its mind.

One of the attending women used a small cloth and dabbed at the spittle that flew from the Jeddah soldier closest to the fire.

The beast at the base of the wall stopped and listened, tilting its head first right and then left as Kale’s words struck its mind in picture form. The animal used the raised right hand to push itself up higher until it was balanced on its two hind legs. Again the toes of the beast uncurled — it would not need the running pads on its feet for what needed doing this night of nights. The foot looked far more human than it had a moment before. The giant beast tested its footing on the loose shale beneath the wall. The eyes narrowed and the orders it had been given came clear to its thoughts. The animal, which now stood as tall as two men upon one another, raised its long powerful muzzle to the night sky, and then just before it shattered the night with the howl it wanted to loose upon the sky, it was bidden to hide once more from the man thoughts in its mind. There would be no howling, no fight before the walls were taken. Instead it lowered its head and then fell to all fours once more.

The two animals to the left and right of the alpha male sat at the base of the wall and both Golia knew what had to be done from the link with the two soldiers sitting a mile away from the walls of Jericho. The first wolf sank its claws into the clay and stone wall. Then it raised its powerful hand once more and sank the second set of claws deep into the wall. Then it started to climb, quickly followed by the second Golia. The same was happening on the other darkened walls of Jericho. The black-on-black movement of the beasts was undetectable on the moonless night. Joshua had only requested two Golia for the attack, but Kale had used five. This would end tonight.

The drums and trumpets became even louder as the Golia struck the guard towers with a fierceness the men of Canaan were not capable of withstanding. The attack on Jericho had started and now there was no stopping the Golia from opening the rear gates of the city of Jericho. The magic was happening again, just as it had on a thousand different nights when the Golia fought for their brothers.

Joshua stood upon the rise three miles from the burning city. As the screams and sounds of fighting came to his ears he collapsed to his knees. The leader of the people pulled the shroud of his robe over his head and prayed forgiveness for the carnage he had set loose in the city of Jericho. The screams of the women and children and the shouts of his own soldiers could clearly be heard across the River Jordan.

“Lord God, forgive my weak use of your words. The needs of the people have driven my mind to madness. I need guidance to—”

“He is not listening to you this night of nights, Joshua.”

His prayer interrupted, Joshua froze as he recognized the voice. It was Kale.

“I cannot stop the screaming in my head.”

“The voices of the children of Jericho will forever haunt your mind. That is your price, Joshua,” Kale said and then added, “as it is my own.”

“Our losses?” Joshua asked as he pulled the shroud from his head.

Kale looked up and across the River Jordan. The flames were now a thousand feet high in the center of the large city. As he watched, a great watchtower along the southern wall collapsed into the streets below, sending a fresh wave of screaming and shouting into the night sky.

“The tribes have lost no more than three hundred in the attack. The Jeddah have lost eight soldiers, and we have…” His voice trailed off to nothing as his eyes saw another section of the great northern wall fall and even more of the Hebrew army charge over the smoking ruin of rubble.

“You have lost Golia?”

Kale was silent as Joshua rose to his feet.

“Two males were near the southern wall when it collapsed. After they silenced the guards in the tower, it was they who opened the smaller southern gate for your soldiers. They were near there when the wall fell, crushing the life from their bodies.” Kale gestured behind him and Joshua turned to see two men being carried by other Jeddah soldiers and the two attending women, who cried into their veils as they left Joshua’s encampment. They had died, just slumped over and fell dead the moment the lives of the two Golia were crushed from the falling stone of the walls. Their faces and bodies were covered but Joshua could see an arm, mangled and broken, as it fell from the side of the dead soldier.

“Old friend, the task has been done. Take the treasures and spoils of the chosen and go—”

“We have already taken that which was offered by the people.” Kale leaned close to Joshua so he could see the elder’s eyes. “Only we have taken one more item that was not offered. One that will ensure you never come north to find my tribe or the Golia. We will destroy the very heritage of the people if any attempt is made. Your charade against Israel after the death of Moses will destroy the people if known. Come for us and we will give you a war the likes of which you have only seen in minority. Come for us and the Jeddah will release the Golia among the chosen.” Kale turned and started walking away. “Leave us be, Joshua, and send no soldiers to find us. This land of milk and honey has been closely won with the blood of the Golia … and your own people.”

“What have you taken?” Joshua shouted. “Kale!” He gestured his five-man guard to stop the much larger Kale from walking away.

Kale smiled as he continued to walk. The sun had just started to rise above the far eastern mountains when the guard came within a spear tip of reaching Kale. Suddenly the five men in braided leather and rope armor saw the three animals sitting on the top of the small ridge. They had risen out of the ground fog that had slowly moved in from the Jordan. The black animal in the middle slowly rose to all fours, and then to Joshua’s and the five-man guard’s amazement the beast actually stood on its hind feet. The long and powerful arms were stretched out along its side and the clawed fingers opened and closed. In the early morning light they could see the blood-soaked muzzle of the animal after its night’s work inside the fallen walls of Jericho. The beast was the alpha male that had linked with Kale outside the walls of the city. The other two beasts stayed on all fours and remained unmoving, but their menacing glare never wavered from Joshua and his guard. Kale finally stopped and turned.

“Use us no more, Joshua. We are free of Pharaoh. We are free of the chosen people. Come for us and I will send what remains of the Golia south once more.”

Joshua watched as Kale vanished over the small rise followed by the two beasts on all fours while the third remained. The yellow, glowing eyes moved from the armed men to settle on Joshua.

Joshua swallowed back the rising bile in his throat, as this was the first time he had seen one of the male Golia up close. His wife, Lilith, took hold of his arm as she too saw the wolf for the first time. As the great beast stared at him, Joshua saw the lip curl up over eight-inch-long canines as a low growl issued from its throat. It suddenly went to all fours and in one great leap jumped over the rise and vanished. The warning had been delivered.

Joshua was ill. He had never felt the fear he had when the animal looked upon him. He then remembered the words of Kale and then angrily tore free of his wife and ran for the largest of the tents a hundred yards away. As the city of Jericho burned below on the other side of the River Jordan, Joshua, leader of the chosen people, ran past the twenty-man guard and into the tent. His eyes went to the center and his heart fell. It was gone. The one item he could never lose had now been taken. His eyes roamed to the far side of the tent and that was when he saw the massive tear in the rough-hewn fabric. He then spied the massive claw prints in the sand. The Golia had gotten in past the twenty-man guard and stolen the one object that could bring down the trust of the chosen people and the love they had of him as a successor to the Deliverer.

“Joshua, what is it?” Lilith, wife of fifty-two years, asked as he collapsed to the sand. Then her eyes widened when she realized what was missing from the tent that held the Hebrews’ greatest religious objects. “What do we tell the people?” Lilith asked as she turned away from the empty space where the gilded box had lain. “The covenant is still here. Why, my husband, would the Jeddah take not the Ark of the Covenant, but take the—”

“The people must never know what was taken. Never.”

“What will you do, my husband?”

In the distance the sound came. It was loud enough that it filled the early morning sky and even drowned out the sound of butchery across the river in Jericho. The sound echoed off distant hills and was not absorbed by the fog as sounds often are. The roar of the beast was a challenge to the world — the Golia were now free and they would never follow the death words of men again.

“I pray that Kale builds my temple and lays to rest for all time the heritage of the people; to be locked away behind stone and earth. If he does this he will never have fear from me or mine. Let him travel to the stone mountains, let Kale and the Jeddah be. Let the Golia be.”

The roar of the giant wolf was followed by the sound of howling that coursed through the valley of Moab as every remaining animal left of the family of Golia mourned the loss of the two irreplaceable males.

The Jeddah, along with God’s last magic found on earth — the Golia — moved into the distant, barren, and foreboding lands far to the north.

The Lost Tribe of Jeddah would forever dwell in the land of darkness beyond the lands of the Hittites — in the lost world of the stone mountains of the great north.

The gleaming white yacht sat anchored in the bay of Hong Kong glistening in the illumination cast from a full moon and the festive multicolored lights that had been strung from bow to stern. The largest yacht inside the harbor was hard to miss as it sat motionless at a minimum of two miles from any fishing or harbor patrol boat, creating an island unto itself in the great expanse of the harbor. The only vessels allowed near the gleaming white hull of the Golden Child were the rented whaleboats that had been cleaned and lined with satin pillows for the invited guests as they traversed the busy waterway on their way to the largest auction of Palestinian and ancient Canaanite antiquities the world had ever seen.

Golden Child was owned by a man known as Charles Sentinel, a Canadian commodities broker of some ill repute. It boasted accommodation for forty overnight guests and had an interior salon that measured 182 feet in length and could handle a party of hundreds. Tonight however, the salon would only accommodate thirty. The remaining space would be taken up by the items everyone on the Golden Child had come to see. The evening belonged to Lord Hartford Harrington, who had agreed to the astronomical lease price for the ship of $2 million for the weekend. There could be no other more secure location for the greatest antiquities sell-off in a hundred years.

As the third to the last whaleboat wound its way around the tied-up water taxis made famous in Hong Kong, the woman saw the Golden Child in the distance for the first time. As her green eyes roamed over the shape and silhouette of the ship her mind raced. This was the first time she had assigned herself a field operation, and also the first time she had disobeyed an order from the director. If he knew she was four thousand miles from home with no field security team in place she may as well find somewhere to live inside China because she could never go home again. “Garrison would kill me,” she mumbled to herself as the whaleboat slowly made its way to the large staircaselike gangway that had been set up on the starboard side of the three-hundred-foot-long Golden Child.

Twenty-one-year-old Alice Hamilton was outfitted in the finest dress her limited bank account could cover. She had to borrow the wide-brimmed white hat that matched the dress. The gown itself was a satin turquoise one-strap item that made her feel a tad uncomfortable. It was almost embarrassing that her field equipment was listed as one party dress and one borrowed hat while the other field units in her department had to settle for desert camping gear and weapons hidden among their picks and shovels. If she were lucky, Alice thought, she might be able to come up with a fingernail file for protection. She wondered once more for the hundredth time if she knew what she was doing.

Alice tried to hide the large intake of breath as a line was tossed to one of the deckhands waiting on the bottom platform of the yacht’s gangway. Here she was getting ready to step into the den of some of the most ruthless dealers in ancient art and antiquities ever assembled and she was going in with possibly a nail file and a knockout dress. But Alice knew she had to chance it once word had reached her desk at the Event Group that something unusual in the antiquities world was about to take place. Alice had used every contact, informant, and had even called in favors owed to her by the FBI and the new CIA to get the location of the auction. This was her baby and not even General Garrison Lee could bully her into not taking this chance to stop some of the theft of the ancient world.

Alice Hamilton was the widowed wife of one of Garrison Lee’s men from his old Office of Strategic Services days during the war. After the surrender of Japan the young widow had gone to work for the new director of Department 5656 in September of 1946. The man named Garrison Lee was a beast and by far the hardest man in the world to work for. The former senator from Maine was a thinker who covered every aspect of field operations, and one of his staunchest rules was that no office, lab, or academic personnel could go on field missions without a covert military police escort. She smiled at the standing order. Alice knew she was none of those. She was the personal assistant to one of the most ingenious men she had ever known. And now she wished he were with her.

As she was assisted to her feet by the white-coated helmsman of the whaleboat, she thought about Lee and what his reaction would be when he found out her little vacation to visit her mother back home in Virginia had turned into a weeklong trip to the South China Sea in search of stolen artifacts. She had fought for the assignment but Garrison Lee had said no — that it was not part of the Event Group charter to retrieve stolen antiquities. She knew this to be the largest lie that Lee had ever told her. He took chances time and time again to recover items from not only the past of the United States, but that of the world.

Department 5656 of the National Archives, or better known to its scientists, archaeologists, teachers, professors, and military personnel as the Event Group, was a creation of President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. It became a chartered section of the National Archives in 1916 and signed into American law (albeit secretly) in that same year. Its mission was to discover the true history of the world’s past. The Group’s job was to ensure that the United States avoided the pitfalls stumbled into by mankind throughout history by learning the truth about how we got to where we are, and to learn where the world was going. The Event Group protected the United States from committing the same sins as our forefathers and their ancient European or Asian ancestors.

Alice loved the concept but had found the actual work chosen for her by her boss, Garrison Lee, mundane and boring, more that of an academic investigator than team leader, and that was not Alice and Lee knew that. The general could not keep her caged up as he had the past four years: he was overprotective of her and that infuriated the twenty-one-year-old widow no end. Thus this one chance to prove she could be a field operative and handle the very worst of people.

Alice adjusted the stole around her shoulders and the fishnet, large-brimmed white hat that half covered her beautiful eyes. As she made her way up the gangway she experienced her first hint of nervousness as she spied the two men at the top of the gangway who were watching her move slowly up the steps. Their eyes saw the shapely body beneath the expensive dress and the subtle movement of her breasts that were hidden very badly in the French-designed fashion. Alice felt so humiliated knowing the dress was not anything like her. She was far more comfortable in men’s pants and shorts and far happier with a shovel and pickax.

As she reached the top of the steps she saw that the two men were armed with weapons poorly hidden in their waistbands. She knew the men wanted her to see that they were armed.

The first man half bowed and held out his hand. Alice swallowed and then pulled the invitation from her handbag. The gilded, gold-embossed invitations were numbered and a security code printed on the front ensured that no one uninvited would be allowed to board this ship. Again Alice swallowed hard but managed a smile as she handed the forged invitation to the large guard. The security man looked it over and without hesitation handed the invitation back to the young American.

“Welcome to the Golden Child, Mrs. Hamilton, your host eagerly awaits your opinion on his collection. Please, follow Mr. Chow into the salon.”

Alice was about to speak but her words caught in her throat as she realized that she was far more frightened about what she was doing than she thought she would have been. Instead she nodded her head and followed the largest Chinese man she had ever seen onto the boat deck. As she did she heard the engines of the Golden Child start and then the sound of the anchor being raised and felt the rattling of the teak deck. She stopped momentarily as the great yacht surged forward in the calm bay of Hong Kong.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, the Golden Child will anchor ten miles out to sea for…” The Chinese brute smiled down at Alice. “Security reasons.”

Alice knew then that if she needed help of any kind it wasn’t going to be found beyond the territorial limits of Hong Kong. That meant if for any reason her true intent was discovered she would find it hard swimming the ten miles back into the bay, especially with a few bullets in her back and sharks stalking her. She knew then that she may have made the biggest mistake of her young life.

The Golden Child put to sea.

Alice Hamilton, a girl of twenty-one from the town of Manassas, Virginia, who until this year had never been farther from home than Nevada, found herself being escorted to the fantail of the magnificent yacht. As she rounded the corner she took a deep breath and told herself to relax. As she told herself this she felt the slow movement of the Golden Child heading for the open sea. The departure wasn’t noticed by the many men and women on the fantail standing and sipping drinks as waiters and other servants wound their way through the expensively dressed guests.

Alice momentarily froze as she stood looking at the white dinner jackets and budget-breaking gowns. As they stood with martinis and other drinks in their manicured fingers, she realized that as soon as she opened her mouth to any one of these people they would know immediately that she didn’t belong. They would eventually see right through the forged invitation that had been prepared for her by the intelligence element inside Department 5656, another little item Garrison would be furious about. She swallowed, wanting to jump off the fantail before the ship was too far out to sea.

“The water is extremely cold and you would more than likely get run over by a water taxi — that is if the sharks don’t get to you first.”

Alice felt her heart catch at the sound of the thick and even voice behind her. Masked beneath the dark veil of her hat, her eyes closed as she tried to gather her courage. She opened her eyes and turned.

“And I hope that dress didn’t come out of the petty cash drawer in your desk.”

Alice looked up and into the face of Garrison Lee. He was dressed in a white dinner jacket, bow tie, and of all things horrid in the world, a bright red cummerbund. His eye patch was over his right eye but that didn’t stop Alice from seeing that the scarred brow itself was arched in that way Lee had of intimidating those who worked for him. The brown hair was perfectly combed and the small touch of gray at his temples made him look far more menacing than she had remembered.

“We don’t have a petty cash box, and if we did I would have told you to use it to buy another tuxedo — or at least a cummerbund that doesn’t look like you’re wearing a stop sign,” she said with as much indignation as she could muster, trying to get the upper hand for the battle she knew was coming.

His brow furrowed even more as he self-consciously looked down at his waist as Alice walked past him and toward the group of high-stakes antiquities players. She deftly reached out and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter without missing a step.

The six-foot-five-inch Garrison Lee watched her leave and then looked down at the bright red cummerbund once more. He was now actually confused as to how Alice had turned the tables on him before he could get her into a corner about vanishing like she had from her desk at the Event Group complex. He grimaced and then followed her into the milling crowd.

“Well, we’re here so I suspect you have a plan?” Lee asked the retreating form of Alice. “Most field agents have a plan before going in. Or at the very minimum ask their director to assist in formulating that plan.”

“Champagne?” She suddenly turned and thrust a glass into Lee’s hand. As he reached for it she suddenly pulled it away. “Oh I forgot you’re a bourbon man,” Alice said as she turned for the bar near the far stern railing.

Lee smiled and nodded at those few guests that had heard the brief exchange. He nodded and embarrassingly made his way toward Alice, who had her back to him while standing at the ornate bar. He stepped to her left and leaned against the bar, letting his cane dangle uselessly at his side, his anger spent for the moment. A few of the high-priced guests near the couple looked up and saw the scarred, very large man leaning next to them and then they smiled uncomfortably when they noticed Lee’s facial scars and ducked away.

“You know, Hamilton,” Lee said as his eyes followed the three guests as they exited the bar area of the fantail, “I counted no fewer than four suspected murderers, two known antiquities thieves, and a well-known and respected British lord who purportedly was raiding dig sites throughout the Middle East during the British occupation. And I noticed all of this in just the past few seconds walking over here. You, Mrs. Hamilton, are out of your element. And that will get people killed.” Lee didn’t turn to face her; he just reached out and took the proffered drink from the bartender.

“How am I supposed to learn anything stuck in that underground hell you call a complex?” she hissed as she smiled at the bartender as he passed her another glass of champagne.

“Listen, I—”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the Golden Child. I believe we have a very special evening in store for your pleasure.”

Lee and Alice turned at the announcement. The man was impeccably dressed in a white tuxedo with a black cummerbund.

“I told you, red cummerbunds are so tacky,” Alice said softly through the side of her mouth.

“I apologize for not having the same taste as our host, Lord Hartford Benetton Harrington, the seventeenth Lord of Southington.”

“Sounds made-up,” Alice said as she looked the stately host over from head to toe.

Lee glanced over quickly as he took in Alice for the first time without his anger blinding his one good eye. He saw her eyes beneath the black veil watching their host make his greeting. The perfect jawline coupled with her slightly turned-up nose usually calmed Lee down like no sight in the world — but this night was different. Her looks now had the opposite effect on him as he realized what a dangerous situation the girl had placed herself in.

“Tonight you will be witness to one of the truly great collections in the world. We will present to you, ladies and gentlemen, many items of history and from the dawn of man and his understanding of not just himself, but that of his God, or gods.” Many of the guests nodded appreciatively. Lee just watched on with distaste. “These are not just mere antiquities that will thrill and enthrall you at each viewing, ladies and gentlemen, they will mesmerize you — and of course checks will be acceptable.”

The gathered guests chuckled at the humor displayed by the Englishman, who smiled and nodded at the men and women as they passed him heading for the salon belowdecks. The man had the appearance of a smiling shark as his prey swam around him.

“Since we’re here, do you think you could put my perceived shortcomings on the knowledge of field operations aside long enough to allow us to do our job?” Alice said as she pulled the stole around her shoulders and made ready to follow the others. She half turned and her green eyes settled on Lee’s blue one.

“I had already come to that conclusion and told you so before you stormed off half-cocked.” He looked at her with intense gaze. “Don’t think this is over, Hamilton.”

“Believe me, I know it’s not over,” she said as she extended her left arm. “Now, shall we see what all of the fuss is about, General?”

Lee smiled enough that his teeth blazed, as it was hard enough to do without breaking off his teeth in his anger. “By all means, Mrs. Hamilton.”

As they fell in line with the crowd walking through the gilded glass doors of the salon, Lee felt many eyes on them. Thus far he had counted at least seven armed guests. At least five heavily armed guards, and of course that wasn’t counting the crew. He now felt he and Alice were walking into the bowels of a pirate ship and he also knew they were making this up on the fly. He leaned in close to Alice when he knew no one was in hearing distance.

“We observe and we make mental notes of what we see being auctioned. Then we report everything to the Hong Kong police. If we’re real lucky we can get the information on what’s here and where in the hell it came from. All our department is interested in is the history of the pieces involved, not their value, but their provenance. Our job is not recovery. Our job is to document the history of the pieces and discover if we have a historical precedent to alter the perceived historical reference to those items or the location in which they were discovered. Agreed?”

“I never intended anything different,” was her curt reply.

As the guests walked down a wide carpeted stairway, Alice was the first to see the black satin-covered objects set up in the massive salon of the Golden Child. Spotlights had been arranged for maximum effect once the black dustcovers were removed. To Garrison Lee it was nothing more than antiquity thieves making thievery as legitimate-looking as possible.

Some of the objects were massive, while others were small. Alice quickly counted eighty-seven objects. As the guests were again offered drinks and champagne, the satin covers were slowly pulled away from the items to be sold.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the items on sale here tonight have all been authenticated and a provenance has been established for the…” the British lord smiled almost embarrassingly, “… the more controversial pieces.” The seventeenth Lord of Southington raised a flute of champagne. “Please, peruse the collection and enjoy, the sale will commence as soon as everyone has viewed the items.”

Lee turned slowly, taking in the faces of the buyers. Alice momentarily watched Garrison. She knew his mind was one of those rare things in the world that make one afraid to know someone too closely. As the former OSS man looked at the faces around them as the guests moved toward the illuminated objects, she knew he was mentally taking a picture of every face he saw. He had a photographic memory and never once forgot a name he had been given or the face that was attached to that name. The senator had made Alice extremely uncomfortable before she got to know him in the years since they met at Walter Reed Army Hospital in 1945 where he was recovering from the devastating wounds received at the end of the war.

“Well, are they all arch-criminals?” she asked as Lee accepted another drink from a waiter.

“While not arch-criminals, nonetheless, there are some very seedy characters here,” he said as he pretended to sip at his drink. “And a few others that don’t belong here at all.” His eyes wandered over to a man who stood in the far corner with a small plate in his hand. The man was slowly eating caviar on toast points and Lee saw that the man wasn’t that good on his surveillance techniques. “Like this gentleman in the far corner, he seems quite interested in you far more than the antiquities at auction. I suspect the revealing dress is more fascinating to him than any old broken pottery.”

“Is there anyone else that doesn’t belong in this den of thieves, General?”

“A few,” he answered and then turned away. “I think we better split up, we seem to have attracted the attention of our host.”

Alice smiled and then slowly turned and saw Lord Harrington conferring with a uniformed crewman and two of the plainclothes security men and they were looking right at her. Alice moved into the milling guests as they started to examine the artifacts.

Lee moved off to the far end of the lined exhibit, stopping in front of two urns that had been braced upon the tops of columned pedestals. The director of Department 5656 was just starting to look away when he decided that he needed a closer look at the two urns. His interest was piqued. The urns were faded and both had several large cracks coursing through their surfaces where the artisans had taken painstaking time in their reconstruction. Lee saw designs and artwork he wasn’t familiar with. He could see they were possibly of Canaanite provenance in construct but the images were unlike any he had ever seen before. The former OSS general leaned closer and read the placard attached to the pedestal:

“Son of a bitch,” Lee hissed beneath his breath. The exclamation was loud enough that a French woman next to Lee gave him a distasteful look and moved away to the next exhibit.

“Those were almost my exact words when these two exceptional beauties were unearthed.”

Lee closed his one good eye and then gathered himself as he straightened after reading the placard. He smiled and nodded at the smaller man standing next to him. He had a pencil-thin mustache and his cheeks were reddened to the point Lee suspected the man to be wearing rouge.

“You must be Lord Harrington?” Garrison asked, placing his hands with his cane behind his back instead of offering his host his hand in greeting.

“The very same, uh, Mr.…?”

“Kilroy, Addison Kilroy,” Lee said as he held the man’s eyes with his own. Neither man blinked at Lee’s use of the infamous cartoon graffito of a million American servicemen during World War II — the famous Kilroy Was Here.

“Ah, I see. Many apologies, Mr. Kilroy, so many invitations were sent out I failed to recall sending yours.”

Lee reached into his dinner jacket and produced the wax-sealed invitation forged by the same agent at the complex that created the fake documents for Alice.

“Sir, I have no need to see your invitation. I just wanted to greet my guests and offer any explanation of the items that I may.”

“Well,” Garrison said as he replaced the forged invite into his jacket, “I must say these are two very important pieces — if they’re real, of course. I mean, the ruins at Tell es-Sultan are closed to archaeological study, ordered by your government in the forties and the no-dig policy has been carried over by the new state of Israel.”

Lord Harrington smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, the ruins at Tell es-Sultan have been closed, as you can see for very good reason. There are some unscrupulous people in the world today that would take advantage of such marvelous finds, Mr. Kilroy.”

Lee nodded his head and smiled crookedly. “There are indeed, sir, very unscrupulous people. I mean, the mystical city of Jericho? A lot of people would call that blasphemous to dig there.” Lee leaned in close to Lord Harrington, who stood his ground not too comfortably against the scarred and very much larger Garrison Lee. “I mean, the city was supposedly destroyed on the orders of God himself. Frightening stuff,” Lee said with his brow arched high above his eye patch, waiting for a reaction from his host.

“Fairy tales to scare the unenlightened, Mr. Kilroy.”

Lee smiled, broadly this time. “I’ve learned that fairy tales, when ignored as such, tend to be more truthful in the end than first thought and that they also usually come back and bite you right in your hindquarters when taken too lightly, Lord Harrington.”

The smile from the American was unsettling to the Englishman, enough so that he half bowed and slowly backed away, nodding toward his security people that this man was to be watched. Lee lost his smile as he turned back to the stolen urns.

Alice nervously looked over her shoulder and saw that Lee was holding his own with their host. She closed her eyes and nearly walked into a woman standing in her path.

“Oh, excuse me,” Alice said as she placed her empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter. Then her eyes locked on the young girl she had nearly collided with. They were approximately the same age. As Alice looked closer at the raven-haired woman she could see that the dark beauty had one brown eye and one green eye. She was a beautiful girl. Then Alice saw that she was also being examined, or more to the point, she thought, she was being sized up by the girl like she was a possible adversary.

“American?” the girl asked as her eyes roamed over the dress Alice was wearing. The strange young woman wore a plain black satin dress that was as gorgeous as Alice’s expensive gown. Her equally black and shiny hair was straight and shiny and she wore large but not ostentatious gold hoop earrings.

“Yes, I’m American,” Alice answered as she watched the young girl with the strange European accent and multicolored eyes look over every inch of her.

“Yes, I can actually smell the difference,” the girl said as she finally stopped examining Alice and then looked into her eyes under the veil.

“Excuse me?” Alice said with that tinge of anger that exposed itself at most times unbidden — Garrison was rubbing off on her to her horror as she felt her defensive hackles rise.

“Well fed — Americans smell well fed,” the gorgeous young woman answered as she turned to look at a large stone block. She crossed her arms and looked at the ancient section of wall that once stood at Tell es-Sultan — the ruins of the city of Jericho. “Interesting piece, don’t you think … Miss…?”

“Hamilton, and it’s Mrs.,” Alice said, looking from the girl to the giant block that appeared as if it taxed the carpeted salon deck with its massive weight. Suddenly Alice’s eyes widened when she realized what it was she had been directed to look at. She didn’t see the girl beside her smile as Alice leaned closer to look at the strange object embedded in the stone.

The granite block was eight feet high and as many feet thick. It had been rough-hewed and quarried thousands of years before. The tool marks were still clearly visible on the block’s leading edges, a surefire way of determining the provenance of the piece, as the tools themselves were linked to a specific region of the Middle East.

However, it was the relief carving in the dead center of the stone that froze the heart of the American girl from the farmlands of Virginia. The raised outline of the animal was clearly visible. The stone block looked as if the relief was carved around the depiction of something out of a nightmare. The muzzle of the beast could clearly be seen and even the claws of its hands were in stark contrast to the surrounding stone.

Alice suddenly realized she wasn’t looking at a carving of a deity of some kind from long-ago Jericho, she was looking at an animal that had been crushed between two massive stones. She could even see scorch marks from a long-ago fire. Her eyes went to the sand-colored and now petrified beast. The animal was massive and as Alice examined the piece others were drawn to the stone block. Many were crying hoax and some were angry at an obvious attempt at humor by their host, Lord Harrington.

The young European girl smiled and then without another word and with her eyes on the man that Hamilton had been speaking with a moment ago, the strange and exotic woman left the gathering crowd of skeptical bidders.

Alice never noticed that the woman had left her side, as she couldn’t take her eyes from the block and the animal mysteriously encased there. Recognition sprang immediately to her memory.

“Vault 22871,” she whispered to herself. Most of the gathered guests had already voiced their opinion on the stone block and its obvious defacement, or outright attempt at a hoax, and then moved on, leaving a stunned and shocked Alice, who knew she had to bring Garrison over to the stone block. The assistant to the director of Department 5656 knew she had stumbled onto something that even the great General Lee could not ignore. As she turned, Alice came face-to-face with a small and ancient-looking woman.

“You will have to excuse my granddaughter, things related to our distant past do not impress her the way that they should.”

Alice heard what the old woman was saying but nothing was registering in her head. A well-dressed and appointed lady in a light but elegant white gown with pink highlights. Alice placed her age at somewhere in the eighties. Her cane looked like an old twisted wooden walking stick complete with what on closer inspection looked like the Egyptian Eye of Ra embossed in gold on the handle. Not an ordinary walking stick. Her clothes were beautiful. The dress satiny and fine and her gold jewelry sparkled in the salon spotlights. Alice looked closer and saw a tattoo that began at the woman’s neck and disappeared into her dress. The top of the tattoo was that of a pentagram, the five-pointed star, but Alice couldn’t see what the rest of the tattoo held below the neckline.

“I am Madam Korvesky.” She turned to look at the stone block and the animal that had been crushed to death by it more than three thousand years before. “We have come a great distance to denounce this … this abomination.” The old woman smiled and then looked at Alice with her aged eyes. “But I can tell that you have seen this sort of trickery before my dear, am I correct?” The old woman stepped closer to the young American. “Yes, I see the recognition in your eyes, young one.”

Alice didn’t say anything at first; she just raised her white-gloved hand and slowly reached out and touched the petrified image of the beast.

“Don’t do that.” The old woman reached out and lightly took Alice’s hand and pulled it away, giving her another grandmotherly smile. “Bad things can come of it,” she continued, but her next action betrayed her warning as a lie as she herself reached out and lightly ran her old and weathered hand over the stone-hardened fur and teeth of the beast. Then the old woman’s spell seemed to break and she smiled and looked at Alice. “You seem not to belong amongst these people.” She looked around with distaste etched on her wrinkled features. She tapped her cane on the carpeted deck once, and then a second time. The old woman became serious and fixed Alice with a gaze that froze her blood.

“You don’t seem to belong either,” Alice finally managed to say.

“I belong nowhere, my lovely girl. We belong nowhere.” She leaned close to the American woman and whispered in a voice steeped in an East European accent, “You seem kind, not like these…” she gestured around her at the men and women eating, laughing, and preparing to buy the stolen items taken from an illegal archaeological dig at Tell es-Sultan, “… people, these scavengers of our shared history.” The old woman bowed her head and then looked up minus her warm smile. “Forget what you saw here tonight, and if I am correct and you have seen something like this before, tell no one and keep your secret buried…” She hesitated only a moment as she looked deeply into the eyes of Alice Hamilton. “Wherever that may be.” Her European accent vanished and her next words were spoken in unaccented English and were far deeper in bass than her voice had been a brief second before. “You have just twenty minutes to remove yourself and your one-eyed handsome escort from this ship, my dear. All of this,” she gestured with her wooden cane, even going so far as to accidentally poke another American woman on her rather ample derriere, which elicited a shocked yelp and angry look, “Because all of this is going to be at the bottom of the South China Sea momentarily.”

“What?” Alice asked, shocked at the slowness of her reaction.

The old woman had gone. She melted into the milling buyers as if she had never been there at all.

Lee was getting close to the explosion factor that made his early years in the Senate a legend, and one of the reasons it was suggested to him by his own party that he was maybe just a little too high-strung for politics. The general always found his temper hard to control when sheer audacity of privilege and corrupt people at every walk of life threatened his keen sense of justice.

As his good eye counted the varying degrees of thievery, his limited vision fell on two small items on display that made his stomach roll. Lord Harrington had actually uncovered human remains at Tell es-Sultan. A cursed thing to do at any archaeological find was to openly display remains that have not been studied and guaranteed to be something from antiquity. It was also something that any well-bred museum curator would find hard pressed to put in any exhibit. He saw a few of the English-bred buyers grimace in distaste at the open display of remains. Lee shook his head and decided at that moment this secret auction would remain so forever. These items would not find their way to the private sector because he would destroy it all first if that need arose.

“I see anger in that one, beautiful eye.”

Garrison looked down to see the young woman who had been talking with Alice a moment before. Lee had seen her spying him from across the salon and was uncomfortable with the looks she was shooting his way.

“Then you should look closer, young lady, because what I see is sadness that this is happening. And if you’re here to place your money on any of these artifacts, I would save it; I predict it’s going to be a bad investment.”

“I was just speaking with your most beautiful companion. I see in her eyes that she adores you.”

Garrison looked closer at the raven-haired beauty. Her gaze seemed to go right through him. “Again, you better go take a better look, and study my companion a little closer. Soon enough she will reveal her cloven hooves, horns, and vipercated tail.”

The young girl looked confused for the briefest of moments and then smiled and laughed — a disarming and innocent sound that made Lee look twice at the woman standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her breasts. Her one brown and one green eye took Garrison in from head to toe. The eyes lingered momentarily on the bright red cummerbund.

“Ah, I see how the game is played with you Americans. Even though you are emphatically in love with someone, you deny it and show nothing but contempt at the mere suggestion of it, even in the face of something so obvious.”

Garrison Lee was stunned for a moment. He wasn’t used to bandying words with someone so young, but this girl had a way of getting into his thoughts that was just a little unnerving.

“If I may be so bold, you were a soldier, am I correct?” she asked as she watched Lee’s lone eye for a lie.

“I and many others.”

“Not many aboard this pirate ship I think. If the rest of England knew about this very unscrupulous man they would hang him in Trafalgar Square,” she said as her eyes left Lee for the briefest of moments to study some of the human waste that were the bidders of the world’s past. Her double-colored eyes turned back to the general and this time she examined him as if she were looking for a disease. She tilted her head and Lee saw the beginning of a tattoo at the base of her neck that wound its way down into the black dress. “You are a keeper of secrets.”

“Excuse me?” Garrison said as his smile tried to cover up his consternation at the girl’s prognosticative prowess. “I think your crystal ball may be a little cracked, my dear.”

The woman placed her small hand on Lee’s lapel. “Leave this ship — immediately, Keeper of Secrets,” she said as her smile was replaced with a seriousness that Lee found disturbing. He slowly pulled the girl’s hand free of his jacket. Her smile slowly returned as Alice joined them, her eyes on the girl.

“I see, you espouse cryptic things to complete strangers like me and then you go off and flirt with a man that is old enough to be your father.” Alice looked from the girl and then back to Lee. “Or your grandfather.”

Lee’s brow furrowed once again, only this time without much enthusiasm or threat behind it.

The young girl who reminded Lee of the Gypsies he met while on assignment during the war smiled even wider as she turned to look directly at him.

“My crystal ball isn’t as cracked as you would like to believe.” She bowed toward Alice and then to Lee. “Mrs. Hamilton, Senator Lee.” The young woman turned and left without another glance.

Lee and Alice watched the young girl take her grandmother’s arm and with one last smile at the both of them, the two strange guests of Lord Harrington left the salon.

“Strange, I don’t think I—”

“Told her you were a former senator,” Alice finished for Lee.

“And I don’t fancy being lectured to by a twenty-year-old girl on the politics of world history.” Lee looked down at Alice. “Or anything else for that matter.”

Alice patted Lee’s thick arm. “Calm down or your good eye will pop out of your head.” Alice smiled at some guests standing near them when she leaned into Lee. “I got a tip that we should leave this ship posthaste unless we want to see this boat turn into a submarine.” Alice looked right at Lee. “And for some reason I believe my source.”

“I saw you looking at the block of stone.” He turned and faced his assistant. “Get it out of your head. There is no relationship to Vault 22871.” He held up his hand, his cane dangling as he stopped Alice from speaking. “Are you surprised I noticed? Who in the hell could miss that? That block of stone is a hoax — a forgery. I heard some genius in the peanut gallery say it was Anubis, the jackal-headed god that held sway over the dead, until old Anubis was ousted by Osiris, at least according to the Egyptian priests at the time. I don’t think the god Anubis got slammed between two rocks during the actual historic siege of Jericho. This petrified monstrosity is as fake as that thing the Group has in Vault 22871.”

“That is your opinion; everyone else thinks the animal remains in 22871 are viable. Our best people say there have been no postmortem alterations to the bones — the same alterations that would have had to have occurred to this animal right here. The articulated hips can clearly be seen under the petrified fur. The fingers and claws, Garrison, look at the fingers and claws for God’s sake; they are exactly the same as the remains the U.S. Army recovered in France after World War I!”

Lee looked around as other guests started to pay them unwanted attention.

“Calm yourself, Hamilton, I believe you believe it. But this is ridiculous, Anubis, for crying out loud?” Lee wanted to walk Alice to the ancient stone block and take a hammer and chisel to it and prove that this display was nothing more than a curiosity that no one should take seriously. “There is one thing that really tears at my ass when it comes to our own science departments, and that’s the fact that there has never been one of these animals ever found in the fossil record the world over.”

“After inventorying every item we have in the Event Group vaults you have the guts to say that to me? No fossil record? Just when does that prove the nonexistence of an animal? You of all people should know there are things out there we know nothing of, even the great General Garrison Lee is capable of being wrong once in a few hundred damn years.”

Lee saw the anger in Alice’s eyes and her words were scathing, almost the same exact speech he had given, no, shouted at his people at the Group since he took directorship of Department 5656.

Garrison looked around and nodded as people were passing by with their secret bidding envelopes and giving them looks that were making the American feel extremely uncomfortable.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, Hamilton, but—”

“Good evening, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, as well as that of many other men and women here.”

Lee and Alice looked over at a small man wearing the traditional headdress of the Palestinian people of the Gaza Strip — the kuffiyeh, the checkered head scarf seen on every male of the region. That was where the similarities fell off sharply, however. The tuxedo the small man wore was cut perfectly and fit the bearded man to a T.

“Mr. Kilroy,” he said and then smiled as he turned to appraise Alice. “I don’t think I have had the honor.”

“Alice, this is Mr. Hakim Salaams Saldine, our resident Palestinian authority on ancient Jericho — Saldine, Mrs. Alice Hamilton, also an authority it seems on ancient Jericho and the animal life contained behind its ancient walls.”

Alice ignored the small insult and held her gloved hand out as the man kissed it, making sure not to touch the hand itself.

“So, you are an authority on Jericho. What is your opinion on the talk of the auction?” she asked.

The man looked confused at first and then smiled. “I do not offer my opinion on things that are irrelevant, and believe me, my young friend, that is the most irrelevant piece I have ever examined — it is a hoax.”

“You have been to Tell es-Sultan?” Alice asked as she looked deeply into the newcomer’s reaction.

“Yes, many times have I ventured to Yeriẖo, I mean Jericho, I’m afraid it has never held that much value to us as a people. It was after all, a place of defeat for us.”

Alice smiled and nodded at the man, and then she looked at Lee and the smile vanished. The man continued to insult her intelligence and she was getting seriously sick of it. It was time to put General Garrison Lee in his place.

“You do know where you made your mistake don’t you, Mr. Saldine, if that is your name?”

“Excuse me?” the man said, trying to keep his features neutral.

“The ancient word Jericho is thought to derive from the Canaanite word Reaẖ, which you obviously should know already. I mean, since you are an authority and all and obviously a Palestinian.” Alice smiled again. “This little Virginia farm girl learned at an early age in Bible school taught by her uncle, that Reaẖ in Arabic, or Jericho if you will, is pronounced totally different. It’s spelled with a Y, not a J, which was clearly enunciated when you said the word very crisply.” Alice smiled as she made a show of looking around the room. The man shifted from one foot to the other. Lee rolled his good eye, knowing Alice was hanging them both out to dry.

“What is your point, madam?” the man with the headdress asked, looking over at Lee, who just grimaced, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

“Mr. Saldine, you are no more Palestinian than Garrison Lee here. You are Israeli intelligence, maybe just a policeman, but definitely no Palestinian. When you pose as another nationality, at least make sure you stick with their language, not your own.” Alice dipped her head and moved away.

“Who in the bloody hell is that?” the man caught in the lie asked.

“She’s a royal,” Lee said as he started to go after Alice.

“A royal?” the Israeli asked.

“A royal pain in my ass — Hamilton, wait a minute.”

Alice stopped on her way to the salon staircase. She turned to face her employer.

“When are you going to stop this unrelenting testing of my knowledge? It took me all of a minute to figure out who your buddy was. Trust, Garrison, that’s what’s missing in your soul, trust.” She started to turn away but Lee grabbed her arm.

“Look, his name is Ally Ben-Nevin. He just took over the Gaza region for state security. He’s here to keep the Palestinian people and his own from having their shared history vanish into rich American, European, and Chinese mansions.”

“And you’re telling me he knows who you are?” she asked, skeptical at the very least.

“Of course not, President Truman would have me hung from the Washington Monument if that little secret got out. No, Hamilton, he thinks we work for the State Department.”

“I’m shocked that you’re competent enough to pull that little deception off without getting caught.”

“Okay, that’s about enough of—”

The tremendous explosion rocked the Golden Child from bow to stern.

Alice was thrown forward and Lee wasn’t far behind. As the ship listed sharply to the starboard side, Garrison pulled Alice aside as the giant block from Jericho tilted crazily on its steel pedestal. Alice was able to get her legs free at the last second as Garrison pulled on her for all he was worth. The stone block hit the carpeted deck and then after a moment’s hesitation the massive weight of the block smashed through the teak wood and then crashed into the bowels of the ship. Lee was stunned as a giant geyser of water shot through the opening and slammed into the ornate chandelier. Water and glass cascaded onto the men and women trying to pick themselves up off the deck.

“I believe our host may have angered someone. I do think this bloody ship is sinking,” Ben-Nevin said as he helped both Lee and Alice to their feet.

With water already lapping at Lee’s ankles he reached into his jacket and pulled an old Colt .45 automatic from his hidden place beneath his bright red cummerbund. He turned and looked at Alice and just winked with his good eye.

“Now you know why the giant red cummerbund, Hamilton.” Lee nodded his head at Israeli intelligence agent Ben-Nevin and then gestured toward the large staircase where people were making their way out of the salon. “May I suggest we see if there’s another mode of transportation back to Hong Kong?”

Around them horns and sirens were blaring and men and women were screaming. Lee just started pushing women and men toward the stairs. Alice turned and the last thing she saw of Lee was him disappearing into the panicked crowd of secret bidders. The lights flickered and then went out to the accompaniment of more screams and shouts. Somewhere in the darkness a gunshot sounded. Then that was followed by another. Garrison found a woman on the flooded floor and assisted her to her feet. It was the haughty French woman who had given Lee a most distasteful look earlier in the evening.

“This is unacceptable, unacceptable!” the woman screamed as she tried to push Lee’s hands from her.

“Well, you’re going to find out there’s a hell of a lot more that’s unacceptable in a minute if you don’t get your fat ass up those stairs.” He slapped her hard on her behind, sending the shocked socialite through the water. As Lee watched her leave he saw a small black-painted wooden statue float by in the churning water. His eyes widened when he saw the wolf’s head and the articulated hands depicted on the carved wood. Lee reached out and grabbed one of the surviving auction pieces and then shoved it into Ben-Nevin’s jacket pocket. “Get this to your people and tell them they’re hemorrhaging antiquities and the bloodsuckers are getting rich. Now go!” Lee pushed Ben-Nevin away even as his eyes didn’t understand.

As the eighty-plus guests and crew fought their way through the jumble of broken artifacts and buffet items, Lee saw that the water was rising far faster than the men and women were moving. The ship must have taken a shape charge directly to her waterline and possibly one to her keel. A very professional job if he were correct.

The last twenty men and women were close to the top of the stairs when something blew. It knocked several people back and over the top of the darkened stairs. Lee saw agent Ben-Nevin hurled into the far wall where he hit and slid into the water and then slowly regained his feet. Garrison pulled the intelligence agent to his feet and pushed him toward the now bent and burning stairs.

The fire was now spreading across the ceiling of the salon. Lee’s escape was blocked both at the main salon entrance and the exit leading to the galley.

“Oh, this is good,” he said as he shoved the Colt back into his pants and then scanned the interior of the darkened and fire-lit salon for Alice, but she was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in many years, Garrison Lee was frightened. Frightened that he had lost someone he really cared about. He shook his head as the flames and the water were coming close to meeting in the middle, one from above, the other from below.

As he fought his way back into the center of the salon, he knew then that he loved Alice, had from the very first moment he had laid his one good eye upon her in the hospital in Washington, D.C., in 1945 when she had come to inquire about the husband she had lost in South America during the war. Why he thought the most beautiful woman in the world would, or even could, love a man as scarred as physically and emotionally as Lee, he could never figure out. But Lee knew he had to try. As flames reached from above and water from below Garrison Lee made a quick decision and then dove headfirst into the gaping hole where the stone block and its strange animal had vanished when it crashed through the deck to the spaces below.

“You!” The shout came from behind Lee just as he surfaced into chaos on the third deck. As he turned he saw their host, Lord Harrington, standing between two of his guards. They had guns pointed his way. The Englishman was soaked and his hairpiece looked as if it had hit an iceberg. “I don’t know who you are, but you did this!”

Lee was beginning to wonder if his real identity and intentions had been stenciled on him. First the girl and now this antiquities thief seemed to be excellent guessers at his true vocation. Garrison felt the weight of the old Colt .45 in his cummerbund but knew he would never reach it.

“Who sent you?” the Englishman shouted as another, even larger geyser of seawater shot through the massive hole in the deck. Garrison saw his opportunity as he was obscured at the last second by the eruption. He pulled the gun, ripping away the hated cummerbund, and dove for the water. Lee surfaced and with the biggest guess of his life took a chance and started shooting as soon as he surfaced. The first two .45 caliber rounds missed. The third struck one of the armed men and sent him backward into the roiling water. The Englishman’s eyes widened as Lee took quick aim at the second man and fired. The bullet caught the man dead center of the forehead. He slowly eased himself back down into the water, not feeling anything in his now dead brain. Garrison moved the barrel toward Lord Harrington.

“No, no,” he shouted, raising his arms.

Normally Garrison would have had no compunction in shooting the thief, but he also realized that it wasn’t his job. He lowered the .45 automatic. The look on Harrington’s face was decidedly relieved. That was short-lived however when as Lee looked on in stunned silence a three-foot-long aluminum shaft slammed into Harrington. The small spear protruded from his chest as he stared down at the instrument that had killed him. He slowly looked up at Lee, who grimaced as he realized the man had been murdered right in front of him and amid the chaos of the sinking Golden Child. As he watched Harrington also slid beneath the water. Garrison looked around, aiming the gun in the darkness and the flickering electrical shorts, and saw what he was searching for. The girl smiled, lowered her diving mask, and then tossed the spear gun toward Lee. The young woman with the strange eyes waved at Lee and then vanished into the rolling water. Garrison saw one of her fins swipe at the air as she kicked away beneath the shattered deck.

Lee decided that the girl was showing him a way out. He dove after her, praying that Alice had made it to the main deck and over the side.

Alice Hamilton watched as the panic-driven guests fought their way to the main deck. She angrily removed the fur stole and her white gloves as she reached down to assist an elderly man to his feet and then unceremoniously push him over the railing of the heavily listing Golden Child.

“Damn it, Garrison, where in the hell are you?” she shouted at the many frightened faces jumping over the side of the ship. She kicked off her high heels and furiously started back toward the salon opening.

Lee held his breath as he felt the shudder come from beneath the Golden Child. Another scuttling charge went off, sending a pressure wave through his eardrums that came near to stunning him. The blast was obviously meant to send the $6 million yacht to the bottom of the South China Sea. The murder of the antiquities thieves and bidders had been meticulously planned out. The first charge was meant to send the guests scurrying off the ship. The second was meant to break the back of the Golden Child and send her to the bottom. A tactic Lee had used himself on numerous occasions during the war, both in Europe and South America.

As he swam though the darkness a fresh rush of seawater struck him from beneath. The powerful explosion placed along the keel of the ship sent a torrent of heated water upward, where it slammed Lee into the very block Alice had been mesmerized with not fifteen minutes earlier and that now sat at the lowest portion of the decking near the engine spaces.

Garrison was starting to lose faith that he had enough air left in his lungs to escape through the bottom of the Golden Child. As his hands fought for purchase against the rush of incoming sea, his fingers tore lose a large section of the stone block from Jericho. He held on to the small piece of stone as his vision started to tunnel and his lungs were close to exploding.

He knew he would never see Alice again. And he found that was the only regret he had. Alice.

Suddenly his leg was tugged on and he felt himself being pulled further down into the water. Whoever had his leg was not too gently pulling him to the bottom of the engine spaces where all hell was breaking loose. As Garrison fought to keep consciousness he saw the floating bodies of many of the Golden Child’s crewmen. Most were burned and some had parts of their bodies missing from the two powerful explosions. He was pulled even further along the hull. Then suddenly Lee and his savior were free of the Golden Child. The water was much cooler as he felt himself rising from the depths. When he broke the surface of the choppy sea he didn’t think he had enough strength to take a deep breath, then just before he did he felt his face being slapped hard.

“Don’t you know when you abandon ship you head to the deck, not the engine room?” the voice said as a life preserver was thrust into his hands.

Lee tried to catch his breath as he saw who his rescuer had been — the young Gypsy girl from the salon. She was treading water not inches from Lee’s face. Her smile caught the senator off guard.

“Don’t think us cruel,” she said as her swim fins kept her easily above the choppy water. “I set the first charge to scare the guests, the second to sink the ship, but I’m afraid it went off too early. I’m really not that good with explosives.”

“Who are you and who made you judge, jury, and executioner?” Lee said, spitting saltwater from his mouth.

“I am no one, Mr. Lee, but the woman who gave the execution order is that pig Harrington’s judge, jury, and executioner, and also my queen.” The girl smiled and lowered her dive mask. “Your woman is your equal American, but don’t allow her to follow us. It will only bring her grief. If we ever meet again, Keeper of Secrets, it will not go so well for you.”

Lee started to say something but the girl turned away. Lee watched her swim away as sirens and patrol boats from the distant harbor were starting to get closer to the scene of the tragedy at sea. Lee looked for the girl but she was nowhere to be found.

“Thank God!”

Lee quickly turned around.

“Hamilton!” he said as he reached for her.

Alice placed her arms around Lee and then they both just remained that way as the seas lifted them and then lowered their floating bodies back down. As Lee held her he noticed that they were being carried away from the survivors and the arriving rescuers.

“We better start swimming or it may be a while before I can apologize for being such an ass.”

Suddenly and before Alice could speak a splash sounded next to them. As Lee looked up he saw that an inflatable raft had been tossed into the sea.

“As I said, my crystal ball may be cracked, but it still shows a pretty clear picture of future events. Mrs. Hamilton, Mr. Lee, good luck, and swim that way.”

Lee and Alice looked up onto an ancient-looking Chinese junk. Standing at the railing was the young raven-haired girl. She was wrapped in a blanket. Standing next to her and leaning on the old wooden railing, the girl’s grandmother stood with her arm through that of the girl for support. The junk was slowly pulling out of the debris field left by the sinking Golden Child.

“Remember, Mrs. Hamilton, what you have seen here tonight cannot be.” She slowly waved her small hand, as did her grandmother. “God doesn’t have that kind of sense of humor. After all, animals like that cannot, should not exist. God wouldn’t have it,” the girl shouted. The junk slowly vanished into a fog bank and was gone.

“That has got to be the strangest girl I have ever met.”

Lee didn’t answer Alice, he just yanked the ripcord on the CO2 cylinder and the raft immediately inflated. He pulled himself in and then Alice after him. As the sirens and the screams slowly started to fade because of distance, Lee looked into the fog after the fleeing ghostly image of the Chinese junk.

“What are you thinking?” Alice asked as she slowly pulled the expensive gown over her head and then tossed it into the boat. Her slip was soaked through and Lee could see that Alice was in no mood to care who could see her body underneath the thin material — especially Garrison Lee.

As the small boat bobbed in the water and searchlights started to poke through the mist, Lee reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of stone he had torn from the block after it had fallen through the deck. He looked it over and then pressed the large piece into his palm and closed his fingers around it.

“I’m thinking we had better take a closer look at what we have in Vault 22871 when we get back to the complex.”

Alice tilted her head as she also tossed the wide-brimmed hat into the sea. She shook out her long brunette hair and then caught the item Lee tossed to her.

“Because I have never seen anyone go that far to create a hoax.”

As Alice brought the chunk of block closer to her salt-encrusted vision, her heart froze. “Yes, I think we may have something a little more to investigate at Jericho than just the ancient ruins of the city, because something else was happening a few thousand years ago that isn’t recorded in the Bible.”

As the small piece was rolled in Alice’s hand the bone was clearly seen underneath the petrified fur of that long dead animal. What antiquities forger would think to do that, place bone under the petrified skin of a hoax?

Alice Hamilton and Garrison Lee of the Event Group had learned that night for the first time that things do go bump in the night and there is always the beast under the bed and in the closet. So yes, Mrs. Hamilton, Lee thought, there really may be monsters in the world.