God's Lions - The Dark Ruin (6 page)

“Oh ... that poor man. I don’t know much about him other than the fact that he died suddenly. No one else seemed to have been affected.”

“But he was a priest, correct?”

“Yes ... a Coptic priest.”

“Were there any other priests at the site?”

“Not that I know of, Eminence, but there could have been. Like I said, I wasn’t there, and Eduardo and his people were keeping everyone away. It seems that somehow the priest slipped through their security.”

Leo reclined in his seat, lost in thought once again as the vehicle rumbled around the hillside, until finally they topped a slight rise and stopped. Through the smeared windshield, he found himself looking out over an archaeological excavation of impressive size that surrounded several immense, megalithic structures made from towering blocks of stone.

As they looked down on the Stonehenge-like circles of stone that lay in a slight valley between two hills, it was evident that they weren’t alone. Several cars were parked in the grass, and down among the ruins they could see scattered clusters of young people wearing T-shirts and shorts going about the business of sifting for artifacts next to piles of freshly dug earth.

After switching off the motor, the three men remained seated inside, listening to the ticking of the engine as it cooled. Outside, a warm breeze ruffled the knee-high grass that ran up the side of the hill in a peaceful wave-like urging, yet no one inside the big Chevy seemed ready to accept its wavering invitation to step outside.

“Well, we can’t sit here all day,” Leo finally said, pushing the door open. Looking back inside, he saw Abbas’s eyes widen, triggering memories within himself of the fear he had seen in the eyes of others the year before when he had stepped outside a similar vehicle in the middle of a man-made plague.

Exiting the SUV, the musty smell of freshly dug earth filled the men’s nostrils as they skidded down a dusty embankment to a hastily-constructed boardwalk. Walking over the rickety boards, they approached a group of young men and women who were hunched over a newly dug trench that circled a limestone outcropping. Looking up from his work, a bearded man pushed a red bandana back over his matted hair and stood to greet them. “Hello there. You must be Cardinal Amodeo.”

Without answering, Leo cast a suspicious eye back at Abbas.

“Don’t look at me, Cardinal. I’ve told no one about your arrival.”

A voice behind them broke the uneasy silence that had descended over the group of young people. “I’m afraid the fault is all mine.”

The three men turned in unison to see a blond-haired man walking up behind them on the boardwalk.

“Javier!” Leo exclaimed.

“Hello Leo. I see you’ve brought your partner in crime.”

Morelli rushed forward. “Mendoza! How did you know we were coming?”

“It was the next logical move, Bishop. We knew you were bound to go after Eduardo, and we heard this is where he stopped and camped before he crossed over into Iraq. I’m offended you two didn’t call me sooner. After all, we’re all on the same team, and I am an anthropologist. You and the cardinal can’t do this alone.”

“This is no ordinary archaeological dig, Javier. We didn’t want to risk other lives.”

“The priest?”

“Yes. We have no idea if his death is connected to this site or just a coincidence, but until we find out you need to pull your people out. Who are they by the way?”

“Graduate students mostly,” Mendoza frowned, “plus some security people from my government who are trying unsuccessfully to look like students.”

“Whoever they are, it’s not safe for them here,” Leo said. “There could be forces at work in this area that we don’t yet understand ... dark forces. These people may not be prepared for what could happen.”

“We’re well aware of that, Leo. My people are all volunteers, and they’ve been thoroughly briefed. Truth be told, none of us are prepared for what we might encounter, so that kind of levels the playing field.” Mendoza paused as his eyes drifted over the surrounding countryside. “By the way, the hills here have eyes, and by now Eduardo’s people have probably already reported back to him that we’re here. I suggest we make the best of it and work together so that we can finish up as quickly as possible.”

Leo’s chin lifted with a renewed vigor. “Why don’t you show us around? If, as you say, Eduardo already knows we’re here, then the damage is done. Any idea what he was looking for ... or if he found it?”

“Not a clue, Cardinal. By the way ... who’s your friend?”

“Oh ... sorry, Javier. This is Abbas Sadik. He’s a local archaeologist who’s been working with Morelli.” Leo turned to Abbas. “Abbas, this is Dr. Javier Mendoza. He’s a Spanish rogue who claims to be an anthropologist.”

Sizing each other up like a pair of boxers, the two men extended cautious handshakes. “Glad to have you onboard, Abbas,” Mendoza said. “We need a Muslim on the team, especially in this part of the world.”

“How do you know I’m a Muslim, Dr. Mendoza?”

Leo winked. “Welcome to our little team, Abbas. Dr. Mendoza may be an anthropologist, but he’s also a spy. He works for CNI, the Spanish version of the American CIA. He probably knew your entire family history before we arrived ... just like you probably knew his.”

Abbas grinned. “How long have you known about me, Cardinal?”

“Since Morelli briefed me in Rome while we were waiting for our flight to Istanbul. You work for MIT, the Turkish National Security Organization.”

“That’s true, Cardinal, and I’m proud to say that I am a true patriot of a country that has done much for me and my family. As you may already know, military service is compulsory here in Turkey ... just like it is in Israel. I come from a poor family, and when I left the military, MIT paid for my education. After I received my PhD in archaeology from Cambridge, I went to work for the Turkish Ministry of Antiquities, but in addition to my job of making sure that none of our historical treasures are smuggled out of the country, I am also tasked with the job of keeping an eye on visiting academicians. I guess you could say that I’m really more of a policeman, because I try not to dabble too much in international intrigue.”

Abbas paused as he glanced over at Morelli. “I can’t believe you never let on that you knew who I really worked for all these years. I hope you know that my friendship has always been genuine, Bishop.”

“Of course,” Morelli replied, “and part of that friendship was not letting on that I knew who you worked for. If I had ever mentioned that I knew you worked for MIT, you would have been forced to report it to your superiors, and they in turn would have been forced to replace you with another. I couldn’t afford to risk losing both a friend and one of the finest archaeologists I’ve ever worked with over some silly cloak and dagger nonsense. By the way, I have to confess that I once stole a coin I found here in Turkey.”

“You, Bishop?”

“Yes. I put it in my pocket one day after I found it beneath an ancient aqueduct. I forgot about it and walked right through customs with it. I kept meaning to send it back.” Morelli reached into his pocket and tossed the ancient Roman coin to Abbas, but instead of catching it, he let it fall to the ground. With his trademark grin, Abbas looked around and bent down to pick it up.

“Hey, look what I found. An ancient Roman coin just lying on the ground next to a megalithic temple. It will take years to find out how this thing ended up here.” The group burst out laughing as Abbas stuffed the coin into his pocket and smiled back at Morelli.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” Mendoza said, “why don’t you all follow me?” Trailing along behind Mendoza, the group approached the first monolithic circle as they moved deeper into a cordoned-off area connected by various wooden scaffolds, ladders, and walkways that extended throughout a site that stretched over twenty acres.

Entering the largest circle, Leo reached out and ran his hand over the smooth surface of one of the towering stone giants. Above his head, carvings of animals covered the gigantic block of stone, but strangely they all seemed to be well defined without the usual effects from erosion seen at other ancient sites. In fact, it looked almost as if they had just been carved.

“Has anyone noticed that these carvings look almost new, Javier?” Leo asked.

“A very astute observation, Cardinal. The reason they look like that is because they’ve been buried for almost twelve thousand years ... protected from the elements as it were. Whoever built this complex buried it soon after its construction.”

“But why would they do that? I mean, it must have taken years to build all of this, especially using the kinds of primitive tools they had back then.”

“Right again, Leo,” Mendoza continued, “which is why the sudden abandonment of this site is so puzzling. But what’s even more puzzling is the question of why it was built in the first place.”

“Have you found any evidence of a nearby settlement?” Morelli asked, poking around in the dirt next to one of the pillars.

“None yet. We haven’t had time to explore the surrounding countryside.”

Abbas kicked at the earth with his boot. “If the remains of a settlement still exist it will be much harder to find. Unless the dwellings of those who built this place were made from stone, finding them would require years of digging down through layers of the surrounding strata, looking for dark patterns that would indicate where rotted timbers once supported something like a primitive hut.”

“He’s right,” Mendoza said. “It took hundreds of years for those studying the pyramids to finally realize that all the small stone structures buried in the sand nearby were actually the homes of the builders. One thing we’ve been able to learn so far about this site is that the builders of these stone structures made bread, which means they probably grew some form of domesticated wheat.”

“How did you discover that?” Leo asked.

“Grinding stones. They’re all over the place. They used them to grind the wheat into flour.”

“So they grew their own wheat?”

“Not necessarily, Cardinal. Wild wheat also grew in this area, but there are indications that it was domesticated here. Dr. Diaz is on his way here to check out that part of the puzzle, and he’s brought an assistant to help him.”

“An assistant ... who?”

Mendoza’s smile reminded Leo of a mischievous child. “Evita’s with him, Leo.”

“Oh ... that would make sense.” Leo glanced up at the parking area, as if he expected to see her walking toward him through the dusty haze. “When will they be arriving?”

“They’re already here,” Mendoza said, his smile growing. “They’re busy getting settled into the house we rented in Sanliurfa. It’s large enough for all of us, so you’ll have a warm place to sleep tonight.”

Pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket, Morelli looked out over the ruins and wiped the grit from his forehead. “Sounds good to me. I wasn’t looking forward to camping out here anyway. Too many snakes. By the way, has anyone heard from Lev? The Carmela was due to dock in Patmos yesterday.”

“Patmos?” Abbas’s eyes widened. “What’s the professor doing in Patmos?”

Morelli cast a quick glance at Leo before answering. “There may be something there that could help us in our search here.”

“Ah, the island where John wrote the Book of Revelation.” Abbas paused as he felt a shudder run down his spine. “I believe I see a picture beginning to form.”

For the rest of the afternoon the group combed the site, looking for clues as to why Eduardo had chosen to stop at this particular archaeological dig before heading across the Iraqi border to his new home in Babylon. So far, nothing had occurred to warrant the fear everyone had felt earlier when they first approached the area. It seemed the only one who had been affected by contact with the site had been the Coptic priest, and although Leo and Morelli were also priests, they had taken the precaution of blessing the site before entering.
So far so good.

After observing a young student carefully brushing dirt from some ancient pottery shards, Leo climbed from a narrow excavation trench and walked over to where Morelli was standing. “I don’t know how we can continue this when we don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

“I know,” Morelli said. “It’s like waiting to be struck by lightning. This site is much larger than I imagined. It could take years of searching to discover what Eduardo was looking for, not to mention the fact that he may have already discovered it. There’s also the possibility that the object we seek is no object at all, but something else. Until we have something more concrete to go on, this search is an exercise in futility.”

“I agree, Anthony. We could be staring right at whatever it is we’re looking for and not recognize it.” Leo paused in the swirling orange haze created by the sun’s fading light as it began to settle over the hills to the west. Moistening his handkerchief with some bottled water, he wiped the fine grit from his face and shook the dust from his hair. “You know, Anthony, this place kind of reminds me of the chapel we discovered under the Vatican. Not in the physical sense of course, but in the fact that it may hold messages from the past that are meant for us now, in the present.”

“All ancient sites hold messages from the past, Leo, but I know what you mean. There’s something special about this place, but there are other equally special places like this scattered all over the region. If only we knew why he chose this spot and not one of the others.” Morelli paused, thinking. “Maybe someone else chose it for him.”

Both men thought for a moment as they looked out over the darkening vista that extended all the way to the Syrian border. In the distance, they could see lights from homes across the border switching on in the gloaming to beat back the approaching darkness as men trudged home from the fields to eat supper with their families. As the silent peace settled over the area, Leo noticed that several of the students had gathered behind them.

“Uh ... Cardinal Leo, could we speak with you for a moment?” a thin young man asked.

Looking back at the group of students, Leo was suddenly reminded of the years he had spent teaching history at Boston College. “Yes ... of course. What can I do for you?”