Kathlyn Trent, Marcus Burton 01 - Valley of the Shadow (28 page)

It was a shocking, grotesque vision. It was unlike anything she had ever sensed.  Instinctively, Kathlyn screamed, whether at the scene before her or to rouse herself from the waking nightmare, she wasn't sure. Her stomach was churning and her head was throbbing.  But the scream seemed to chase the visions away. When everything faded to black, the only thing she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears and ever so slowly, she opened her eyes.

Marcus was gazing down at her, grave concern on his face. She could see Juliana and Gary, too. They looked terrified. She blinked a couple of times, realizing she was in Marcus' arms.

"Wow," she muttered. "What in the hell was that?"

Marcus let out a breath, a gesture of relief. "I was going to ask you the same thing," he stroked her cheek. "You okay?"

Kathlyn blinked her eyes again. Her head was killing her. "My God," she breathed. "That was the wildest thing I've seen yet."

"What was it?" Marcus was almost afraid to ask.

She struggled to sit up, the room swaying. Marcus supported her back. She thought a moment, trying to collect her frazzled thoughts. 

"It hit so hard and so fast," she put her hand to her head to stop the movement. "I don't think my intuition has ever done that to me before."

"So what was it?" Juliana asked.  Kathlyn had been doing an awful lot of moaning and babbling, and she was frankly terrified.

Kathlyn drew in a deep breath as Marcus gently rubbed her back.  "It was the woman in white," she said. "That man who buried her alive was trying to force her to do something."

"Like what?" Marcus asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she replied. "But he killed someone, too; looked like an old man. He smashed his brains in."

Juliana winced. "Now, there's a pleasant thought."

Kathryn had to agree, making a face. "It was really weird. There were a lot very strong feelings going on and the old man had a collar with a vulture across his shoulders."

Marcus and Gary glanced at each other over the top of Kathlyn's head; more than a week ago they had tossed around a theory regarding Ay, Horemheb, and Tutankhamen.  They had both forgotten about it in a sense, but with Kathlyn's violent hallucination, they couldn't help but recollect.  Her clues were far too coincidental and just a little bit eerie. They began to mentally piece together the possibilities of an ancient, disturbing puzzle.

"What does the woman in white have to do with the guy who got his brains bashed in?" Marcus asked. "More importantly, who was this old guy?"

Kathlyn leaned back against him, exhausted. "Beyond the collar of Nekhbet, I couldn't tell you any more about him. He was just old."

"Ay was old," Gary said quietly.  Everyone looked at him to explain himself. "Think about it; we've got an old man with his skull crushed, a woman in white who is buried alive, and an evil guy running around butchering people. He not only buried our white lady, but he bashed the brains out of this old guy.  Can anyone else see what is happening here?"

Marcus did. "From Kathlyn's earlier vision, she thought the woman in white was Ay's wife, Ankhsenamun.  That was also Tutankhamen's wife and half-sister.  She legitimized Ay's reign by marrying him even though she was his granddaughter. So you've got a dead grandson, a dead grandfather, and a living granddaughter who was wife to both. And then she gets buried alive."

Kathlyn was looking at him. "By the same guy who killed the old man."

"Exactly," Marcus said. "So we have this bad guy killing who we are going to assume to be Ay. And don't forget that Tutankhamen was killed by a blow to the head in much the same way.  It's all very interesting."

Kathlyn stared at him, fragments from her vision falling together to create a readable mosaic in her mind's eye.  It was an overwhelming sense of dread that filled her. "You want to know what I think?" she asked softly.

"Tell me,” Marcus said softly.

She lifted an eyebrow. "I think this evil guy killed Tutankhamen.  I think he wanted to marry Ankhesenamun to legitimize his own claim to the throne and she refused. That was all that begging and crying I saw going on. So she marries Ay instead, but he kills the pharaoh and buries Ankhesenamun alive because she was a witness to the murder of the old man and, more than likely, had knowledge of what had happened to Tutankhamen as well. Now we have two dead pharaohs and one dead queen. So who assumed the throne after Ay?"

Gary's eyes lit up. "Horemheb, of course. He was leader of the King's Armies, the only one in all of this who had so much to gain by killing off Tutankhamen and Ay."

It was as if all was suddenly coming to light.  A mystery three thousand years in the making was finally coming together in gloomy, horrifying fragments.

"Don't forget about Smenkhare," Marcus said, his voice ominous. "He ruled for only a few months, right before Tutankhamen.  His body has never been found. It's quite possible Horemheb started on his murder spree with him. That's three dead pharaohs and one dead queen."

"Holy smokes," Juliana breathed. "Who did Horemheb marry?"

Marcus smiled ironically. "A woman name Mutnojmet. She was the sister of Queen Nefertiti and, I might mention, Ay's daughter.  But she was pregnant approximately twelve times in their thirteen years of marriage and never produced an heir."

"So the dynasty died."

"Not really. With Horemheb, it passed from the Thutmosid dynasty to the Ramesside dynasty. Ramses I was Horemheb's general, and eventually his successor."

The fragments were meshing together perfectly. It was an eerie feeling, knowing they may have figured out one of the greatest crimes of the eighteenth dynasty.  An ambitious general, three pharaohs who trusted him, and one young woman caught in the middle. All of those violent visions, the powerful emotion, pointed to something. The spirits of the dead needed closure. Ankhesenamun needed closure.

They all sat a moment in silence, Kathlyn's gaze trailing to the pile of rot she and Gary had been working on. She felt an odd sense of clarity and relief as she looked at it.  Maybe in some sense they had finally given the lady in white a measure of peace.

"Gary," she said quietly. "Get her out of there so we can give the woman a decent burial. She deserves more respect than that bastard gave her."

"You got it," Gary promise softly.

Marcus half-carried her, half-walked her from the chamber. For today, her work was done.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was well after dinner and the greasy cooking smells still hung heavy in the warm evening air.

Marcus and Lynn marched across the encampment, fresh from a meeting with Bardwell and McGrath. Dougray wouldn't even talk to Marcus. He was furious, something he tried to control as he headed for the tent that Kathlyn shared with Juliana and Debra Jo.  Kathlyn had already had a very trying day and it wouldn't do her any good to see him so fired up. Lynn had come along for moral support, but there was nothing he could offer by way of comfort. The situation was ugly.

They knocked at the tent before blowing in. Kathlyn was sitting at Debra Jo's computer, working on something, while Juliana, Mark, Debra Jo, Otis and the doctoral students were situated in various places around the tent. It was a serious group. Marcus looked at all of them, trying to discern the mood of the room.

"Well?" Kathlyn said, not looking up from the computer screen. "What's the word?"

Marcus scratched his head, moving to take the seat that Mark offered him. He eased his big body down, thinking of just how to say what needed to be said without blowing up.

"Bardwell wants you off the dig," he finally said. "There's just no changing his mind. I tried and he threatened to fire me. Considering I now have a wife and child on the way, I thought I should discuss it with you before joining the unemployment line."

Kathlyn looked up at him over the rim of her glasses. "Good idea. You didn't freak out, did you?"

Lynn interceded. "I can promise you that he didn't. He was actually quite calm. It's Bardwell who's lost his freaking mind. I don't know what Dougray said to him but neither Marcus nor I could convince Bardwell that the man is a murdering bastard."

Kathlyn looked between the two of them.  Removing her glasses, she stood up. "Close that tent flap."

Lynn complied. Marcus watched his wife pace the floor thoughtfully, dressed in a pair of heavy jeans and a black tee shirt. She looked rather sexy and it was difficult for him to keep his mind on business. She finally came to a halt and leaned back against the computer table.

"My team already knows this, so this explanation is for your benefit," she said quietly. "About fifteen minutes ago, I sent out a very important time-encoded email set to deliver tomorrow morning at nine Eastern Standard Time. You see, I know a lot of people in the media, people I've become friends with over the years and whose reporting I trust. More importantly, they trust me. Attached to that email are some very alluring photographs."

Marcus wasn't quite following her. "What photographs?"

She looked at her husband. "After you went to talk to Bardwell, I got to thinking. My entire life has been full of obstacles and people who have tried to discredit me. You were one of them, if you recall. But I didn't give up. I always get back up again, even if it's only to get knocked on my ass repeatedly. So for me to lay down and die because Dougray tries to destroy me just isn't my style. He may have delivered me a one-two punch, but I just threw him a left hook that's going to send him to the canvas.”

As Marcus and Lynn looked both curious and pleased, she moved away from the computer table and continued, emphasizing each her words with animated hands.

“The email I sent out has an attachment of photographs taken last week in Israel. It was a roll that we managed to sneak past the Israelis. In it are clear pictures of the Ark of the Covenant. I also attached a video clip from Larry that clearly shows me uncovering the ark, verbally describing it, and showing measurement and scale.  I sent all of this to every newsperson I've ever been remotely in contact with, including all of the major networks. Even if they disbelieve it's the actual ark, I can guarantee you that by tomorrow night, it's going to be plastered all over the civilized world that I have discovered the Ark of the Covenant. And there's more."

Lynn just stood there and grinned. Marcus was awed. "That's my girl," he muttered. "I knew you wouldn't give up."

She smiled at him. "I also sent it to every credible university that has a Biblical archaeology department, including the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. They're going to jump all over this like lint on a cheap suit. In my email, I listed, by name, all of the people who prevented me from announcing this find, first and foremost, Walter Dougray and his ancient order. But in addition to the relevant information about the ark, I also mentioned what we were told had become of the Holy Grail and Noah's Ark and I included a lot of photos we had in our archives to substantiate the validity of their existence. We can't prove any of this literally, of course, but it will certainly stir up a lot of hostility."

"You're damn right it's going to stir up a lot of hostility," Marcus agreed fervently. "Dougray and Abrahams will spend the rest of their careers explaining this one."

Kathlyn sauntered over to him. "Maybe. But one thing's for certain - even though we know all of this stuff is true, the world will more than likely look at it dubiously. I don't want to do this, mostly because I promised some very legitimate members of the Israeli government that I would keep my mouth shut, but Dougray has pushed me into a corner and I'm not going to let him do it. Now, there's only one thing to prevent me from sending this email out in real time."

Marcus reached up and began playing with her fingers. "What's that?"

"A confession from Dougray,” she said frankly. “I want that bastard to admit he tried to kill us. I want him to admit he's tried to blackball me. As it stands, he's all but ruined me and he's trying to ruin you. I want our life back."

He understood. "So you typed up the email, put it on a time delay, and now you're going to give Dougray the opportunity to 'fess up or the email goes out."

"Exactly."

"Do you think it will be enough?"

She shrugged. "He doesn't know I had a contraband roll of film on the Ark of the Covenant. It ought to be a good bargaining tool." She knelt down beside his chair. "We may not be able to prove a word of this and it could quite easily backfire in my face. But I have nothing to lose; Dougray is already digging my grave, career-wise. Even if no one believes it, there will be controversy surrounding Dougray for the rest of his life. He'll no longer be this perfect icon of publishing might and Abrahams will get sucked down right along with him. If I’m going to go down, I’m going to do my best to take them with me."

Marcus gazed down into her beautiful face. "You're taking on the big boys, sweetheart.  If anyone can play their game, you can."

"Thanks," she was smiling, but there was something in her eyes. She glanced at Juliana who, understanding the unspoken signal, began herding people out of the tent. Lynn protested, but Juliana grasped him by the ear and pulled him out. He made a big fuss, but he actually kind of liked it. When the entire crew was out, Kathlyn looked at Marcus.

"There's something else you should know that I didn't want to say in front of everyone," she said quietly. "I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it; it's not just the press that I have contacts with. I also have the ear of someone much more important, someone who will believe me without a doubt. Or, at the very least, help precipitate audits and Anti-Trust lawsuits against Dougray and his companies. That would devastate him far more than my threatening little email ever could."

Marcus was curious. "Who can do that?”

She tried not to flinch when she told him. "Leeves."

He looked at her for a moment as if the name hadn't registered.  Then, his cobalt blue eyes widened. "Leeves? As in President Leeves?"

She nodded, quickly trying to explain. "We met each other before he was married, before he was even president. He's an alumnus of SCU and we met during a university fund raiser years ago."

Marcus wasn't sure how to react. "How well do you know him?"

She didn’t pull any punches. "We were lovers."

Marcus just stared at her.  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No.”

He slapped his hand against his forehead. "Great," he muttered. "My wife has slept with the President of the United States. That's just goddamn great."

She could feel his blooming anger. "I'm sorry I never mentioned it before. It just never really came up."

Anger wasn’t quite the word he had in mind for what he was feeling at the moment. He just looked at her. "I asked you if there was anyone I should know about. And you didn't think to tell me that you were bed-buddies with the President of the United States? Christ, I even voted for the guy."

"You asked me if there was anyone waiting in the wings and I told you no. Andrew Leeves and I met over ten years ago. It was a long, long time ago, Marcus. I haven't spoken with him in years."

Marcus' jaw was flexing in that furious manner she had become accustomed with. "So just how long did this go on?"

"About nine months. It ended when... well, we just went our separate ways. It doesn't matter how...."

He shot out of the chair, his big body tense. "Oh, no you don't.  How did it end?"

He was full-blown angry. Even though there really wasn't anything to be angry about, in her opinion, she could understand his irritation. She would have been irritated, too, if he had dropped a bomb on her like that.

"He asked me to marry him and I said no," she said quietly. "Andrew is a nice man, but I didn't love him. We had a good time together and that was all. It didn't go beyond that."

"You certainly liked him enough to sleep with him."

She put her hands on her hips. "Okay, I did. But I didn't love him. Don't tell me that you haven't slept with a woman you weren't in love with."

He held up a quelling finger. "This isn't about me, it's about you. Anything else you want to tell me, like you slept with the Secretary of the Navy or something? How about the King of Spain?"

She opened her mouth to argue but the words wouldn't come out. She'd spent the better part of the past week fighting one way or another, sometimes for her life. Marcus is the last person she wanted to battle with. She turned her back on him and burst into soft sobs.

Marcus's fury took a dousing. "Don't cry," he commanded softly. She ignored him and he sighed heavily. "Sweetheart, I'm not trying to make you cry, but...."

"You're an ass," she sobbed.

He rolled his eyes helplessly. Moving over to her, he tried to take her in his arms but she took a swing at him and caught him in the gut. He grunted, rubbing his stomach as she walked away.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just... surprised, that's all. I didn’t react well and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get nasty."

She snatched a tissue from a ripped box. "Yes, you did. You always get nasty with me, like that's the only way you can win an argument. I didn't do anything maliciously, yet you always think the worst like I’ve done something to earn this mistrust."

"Honey, I trust you, that’s not even an issue," he defended himself weakly. "I just don't deal well with surprises sometimes. Especially when it has to do with someone I love more than anything in this world. I would be happy to pretend that no one has ever touched you before me."

She wiped her nose. "I wish I could tell you that was the truth but it's not," she said. "It's not like I've had a different guy every day of my life since I was sixteen, but I've had a few. Not many, but a few. Just like I know you've had your share of women. Don't you ever think I feel the same way about you that you do about me?"

He went over to her, gingerly, afraid she was going to take another swing at him. She didn't and he sat in the chair behind the desk and pulled her onto his lap.

"My history with women is very sketchy," he murmured into her neck. "When I was growing up, I was kind of a bully, so none of the nice girls liked me. Consequently, as a self-defense mechanism, I got nastier to prove their dislike didn't matter to me. The nastier I got, the more they hated me, so it was a vicious cycle. By the time I was a junior in high school, I was about the size I am now and everybody was terrified of me. I had to take my cousin to the prom because I couldn’t get a date."

She blew her nose, eyeing him. "I can do better than that. I didn't even go to my prom because I was doing summer college work and didn't have the time."

He kissed her neck, her cheek. "The point is my demeanor has always scared women away. The few I have dated tolerated it for some reason or another. I tried to scare you away with it, but it didn't work. You're tougher than I am."

Her tears were gone. She sat on his lap, gazing into his beautiful eyes and shaking her head. "Marcus, you're an ass.  But you're also the sweetest, most sensitive and most fiercely loyal man I've ever met. I admire you more than I can say. There's so much more substance to you than there is to me."

He grinned at her, pulling her close. "Don't try to soften me up," he muttered. "Christ, I'll never be able to look at Andrew Leeves again without feeling an unreasonable amount of jealousy. I'm sorry, I just can't help it."

She giggled. "Just as long as you don't try to deck him. I don’t think the Secret Service would take very kindly to that." She paused. "You know, I answered your question about men in my past, but you've kind of danced around yours. Anyone significant I should know about?"

He shook his head. "Not really.  No one I was close to marrying, at any rate."