Crescent Dawn (17 page)

The ferry had pulled a few feet away when he jumped, and Pitt just managed to catch a foot on the edge of the auto ramp and roll forward. Tumbling down the ramp, he regained his balance and slowly stood up. The accelerating ferry was moving quickly into the channel, already putting nearly twenty feet between itself and the dock.

Pitt looked up to see Sunglasses rush to the ferry’s upper rail and stare dismally at the growing distance between ship and shore. The assailant turned his gaze to Pitt, instinctively reaching a hand toward the holster he wore beneath a light jacket before abandoning the notion.

Pitt studied the figure, then threw him a jovial wave as if he were an old friend. Sunglasses stood impervious, staring back at Pitt with a face of chilled granite, as the ferry slowly made its way down the strait.

T
HE SETTING SUN CAST A GOLDEN HUE ON THE MEDITERranean’s westerly breakers as they crashed against the Israeli shoreline. Sophie gazed at the blue horizon thankful that the heat of the day had finally passed, then turned and stepped into the artifact tent. Professor Haasis was hunched over a papyrus scroll, his face aglow as he attempted to decipher the ancient script. Sophie smiled to herself, thinking how he resembled a wide-eyed kid in a candy shop.

“Give your brain a rest, Professor,” she said. “They’ll still be here in the morning.”

Haasis looked up with a sheepish grin. On a long table before him were spread over a dozen of the ceramic boxes, each housing an assortment of the small papyrus scrolls. He reluctantly rolled up the scroll he was examining and placed it back in one of the boxes.

“Yes, I suppose I should take a break to eat,” he said. “I just can’t help myself. It is such an amazing wealth of data. This last scroll, for example,” he said, tapping the box for emphasis, “it describes how an Anatolian merchant ship loaded with grain from Egypt was forced to seek safe harbor here when its mast shattered. Little gems like that make my heart beat faster.”

“That doesn’t exactly sound on par with the Dead Sea Scrolls,” Sophie replied with a chuckle.

“Well, the average man on the street may not care about this,” he replied, “but for those who make history their life’s work, it’s like discovering a window to the past that used to be shuttered.”

Haasis pulled off a pair of white gloves. “I really need to get these transferred to the university lab for proper analysis and conservation, but I just can’t resist taking a first look.”

He had examined all but three of the boxes by the time he stood and stretched.

“What’s become of Dirk?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him since he delivered the final box.”

Sophie shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear indifferent. But the same question had been lingering in her head. Dirk’s earlier dinner invitation had given her a rush all afternoon. She even sneaked off to wash up and to brush her hair, angry for once in her life that she hadn’t carried any makeup with her. She felt her heart stop when a figure suddenly entered the tent behind them. Spinning around, she looked in disappointment to see that it was only Sam.

“You guys ready for dinner? The mess tent is featuring spaghetti and meatballs,” he announced. A smear of red sauce on his chin revealed that he had already made a first pass through the chow line.

“Sounds great,” Haasis replied. “Come along, Sophie, let’s eat.”

The antiquities agent moved slowly toward the exit, trying hard to hide her disappointment.

“Sam,” she asked, “are we set up for tonight?”

Her assistant nodded. “Raban and Holder will be arriving within the hour. I told them we’d run surveillance till about midnight.”

“Professor Haasis has offered us a tent, so I think I will stay the night. You can hitch a ride home with the boys, if you’d rather.”

“I think I will. Sleeping on the ground isn’t as much fun as it was when I was thirteen,” Sam replied, rubbing his back.

They walked out of the tent to find Dirk standing outside with a beach towel draped over his arm like a waiter. He was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, and Sophie couldn’t help but think how nicely he had cleaned up. She fought hard to suppress a smile.

“I believe we had a dinner date,” he said to her with a slight bow.

“I almost forgot,” she lied.

He took her arm and escorted her behind Sam and Haasis as the group walked to the mess tent nearby. Sophie turned to follow the two men into the tent but felt Dirk suddenly tug her in the opposite direction.

“We’re not eating with the others?” she asked.

“Not unless you have a craving for spaghetti that comes out of a can,” he replied.

“No, not particularly,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Good. Then it’s off to Cape Pitt.”

He guided Sophie down to the shoreline, where they walked along the beach a short distance. When they reached a rocky ledge that jutted into the sea, Dirk turned and helped her climb over the boulder-strewn surface.

“This was the site of a Roman palace,” Sophie said, recalling the prior excavation of a large structure that featured Greek columns and a decorative pool.

“Many believe it was King Herod’s, built after he constructed the harbor,” Dirk replied, showing he had studied up on Caesarea.

“I don’t remember there being a restaurant located here,” Sophie said, with a playful grin.

“It’s just behind that last wall.”

They climbed through the ruins to the tip of the promontory. Just past a crumbled stone wall, they reached a sheltered recess that offered a commanding view of the sea. Sophie laughed when she spotted an ice chest parked beside a small hibachi, its charcoal embers glowing red-hot.

“King Herod’s Café, open for business. Hope you don’t mind eating alfresco,” Dirk said, spreading out the towel on a sandy spot. He quickly produced a bottle of white wine from the cooler and poured them each a glass.

“To damn fools,” he said, clinking his glass against hers. Sophie blushed, then quietly sipped her wine.

“What’s on the menu?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Fresh sea bass, snared by yours truly this afternoon. Grilled in lemon and olive oil, and accompanied by a vegetable kabob, organically grown on a kibbutz up the road.” He held up a pair of skewers loaded with peppers, tomatoes, and onions.

“I’m sure glad I passed on the spaghetti,” Sophie replied.

Dirk threw the kabobs and a pair of fish fillets onto the small grill and quickly had dinner served. Sophie found the fresh food tasted delicious and hungrily devoured her entire plate.

“It was terrific,” she said, setting down her empty plate. “You sure you’re not a professional chef?”

Dirk laughed. “Far from it. Put me in a kitchen, and I don’t get much past peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But show me a hot grill, and I’ll happily run amok.”

“You run amok with nice results,” she said with a smile.

As he sliced up a small melon for dessert, she asked how he liked working at NUMA.

“I couldn’t ask for a better job. I’m able to work in and around the sea, virtually anywhere in the world. Most of our projects are both interesting and fundamentally important to preserving the health of our oceans. And on top of that, I get to work closely with my family.”

He noticed a faint look of alarm cross Sophie’s face at the mention of his family.

“My father is the Director of NUMA,” he explained. “And I have a twin sister named Summer who is a NUMA oceanographer. It’s actually on account of my father that I was able to come to Israel. He relieved me on a survey project we’ve been working on along the coast of Turkey.”

“Professor Haasis told me that he has several old friends at NUMA and holds the organization in high regard.”

“He has certainly done some fine work here himself,” Dirk replied.

“So your time in Caesarea is short?”

“I’m afraid so. Two more weeks, then I must head back to Turkey.”

He passed her a plate of sliced melon, then asked, “Okay, now it’s your turn. How did you come to be an archaeologist with a gun?”

Sophie smiled. “An interest in geology and history, instilled by my father from an early age, I suppose. I love archaeology and digging up the past, but I have always felt pain at seeing our cultural treasures being looted for profit. Working at the Antiquities Authority, I feel like I can help make a difference, although we are vastly outnumbered by the bad guys.”

Dirk waved a hand toward the coastline. “Caesarea has been pretty well picked through over the centuries. You think the professor’s small diggings here are really at risk?”

“Your discovery today proved that there are still cultural riches to be found. I was actually more concerned about the grave site, which a local reporter foolishly publicized in the press. The presence of someone masquerading yesterday as an antiquities agent doesn’t help my radar any, either.”

“Well, at least we haven’t uncovered any gold or treasure. Any looter ransacking our site is apt to be sorely disappointed.”

“You’d be surprised at the varied desires of the high-end artifact collector. Many collectors value cultural antiquities as much as treasure, to everyone’s detriment. Those scrolls of yours would fetch a small fortune on the black market. I know I’ll feel a lot better when Professor Haasis has all of the artifacts safely transported to the University of Haifa.” She glanced at her wristwatch.

“I really should get back and coordinate our evening reconnaissance.”

Dirk poured her a half glass of wine.

“How about a small one for the road?”

Sophie nodded and took the glass as Dirk sat close beside her with his own glass. The surf pounded the rocks around them as a deep blue twilight settled over their heads. It was a relaxing romantic moment, the kind that had escaped Sophie’s life for quite some time. She turned to Dirk and whispered, “I’m sorry I yelled at you today.”

He leaned over and kissed her softly, letting their lips linger.

“You can make it up to me another time.”

Snuggling close, they finished the wine before Sophie forced herself to end their time together. Holding hands, they retraced their steps across the beach and up the hill toward camp. A generator-powered string of lights swayed over the assembly of tents, illuminating the campsite in a chalky glow. Sam was settled on a rock wall to one side, speaking to two men in dark clothes.

“I’m in the last tent on the left,” Dirk said to Sophie. “Make sure the grave robbers don’t disturb my sleep, will you?”

“Good night, Dirk.”

“Good night.”

Dirk watched Sophie join her colleagues, then turned toward the row of tents. Before turning in, he stepped over to the large artifact tent, which was still ablaze with light. Haasis was back at it, hunched over a scroll of papyrus with a magnifying glass in one hand.

“Uncover any secrets for the ages?” Dirk asked.

Haasis looked up momentarily, then gazed back at the papyrus.

“Nothing that weighty here, but still fascinating. Come take a look, I think you will appreciate this.”

Dirk stepped closer, looking over Haasis’s shoulder at the thin layer of fibered paper lined with a bold flowing script.

“It’s all Greek to me,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh, sorry,” Haasis replied. “I’ll give you a rough translation. This scroll provides a description of port activity sometime around 330 A.D., I believe. There is a brief description of a damaged Cypriot marauder that was captured adrift by an imperial Roman
trireme
. The vessel was subsequently towed to Caesarea, where the port authorities discovered that its decks were covered in blood and that a small cache of Roman armament was aboard. Many of the crew bore evidence of fresh wounds from an earlier battle.”

“They were pirates?” Dirk said.

“Yes, apparently so. The incident created a stir, it says, as the personal armaments of a centurion named Plautius were found aboard. He was identified as a
Scholae Palatinae
, whatever that was.”

“Probably didn’t result in a nice consequence for the Cypriot crew.”

“No, it didn’t,” Haasis replied. “The vessel was impressed into service as an imperial merchant ship, while the crew were summarily executed.”

“Swift justice, indeed,” Dirk said, picking up one of the ceramic boxes. “Do all of the scrolls contain such gripping accounts?”

“Only to an antiquities voyeur like me,” Haasis said with a grin, then rolled up the scroll and put it back in one of the boxes. “I’ve reviewed most of the scrolls, and they are primarily bureaucratic records of port revenues and the like. Nothing too astounding individually, but collectively they will provide an important snapshot of daily life here nearly two millennia ago.”

He wrapped the box in a loose cloth and placed it on top of a filing cabinet, then turned off an adjacent overhead light. The other boxes had all been carefully wrapped and stored in plastic bins for transport to the university.

“I’ll leave something to look at in the morning,” he said with a yawn. “You think you found everything in the chamber?”

“I believe so,” Dirk replied, “but I’ll borrow one of your trowels and take a second look, just to be sure.”

“I never thought inviting a marine engineer to a field dig would generate such an abundance of work for me,” Haasis said as he guided Dirk out of the tent.

Up the hill, they both spotted Sophie walking along the perimeter with one of her agents.

“Coming to Caesarea, I never thought there were such dazzling discoveries to be made,” Dirk replied with a wink, then strolled toward his tent for the night.

T
HE RATTLE OF AUTOMATIC GUNFIRE SENT DIRK BOLT upright in his cot.

The shots sounded dangerously close. Dirk heard some shouting and then the return fire from a handgun. He quickly slipped into a pair of shorts and sandals, then staggered out of his tent as a cascade of gunfire from multiple weapons erupted above the camp. His first clouded thoughts were of Sophie, but he had little time to react. He heard, then spotted two figures charging down the trail, brandishing assault rifles.