Kathlyn Trent, Marcus Burton 01 - Valley of the Shadow (30 page)

It was dark outside, the moon laying low over the eastern sky. There were so many stars in the sky that it was as if someone had spilled milk on a black canvas. Pausing a moment to tie her boots and tuck in her shirt, she veered away from the bathrooms and toward the tents that housed the VIP's. 

Patting her front pocket to make sure the voice-activated tape recorder was still there, she stuck to the shadows as she made her way through camp.  There were a few Marines on patrol and she carefully avoided them.

Dougray's tent was dark.  Butterflies banged around in her stomach as she skulked along the canvas to the front door. It was locked, but the doors were flimsy and easy to navigate. Slipping into his tent, she spied his lumpy bed against the far wall.

"Dougray," she hissed. "Wake up."

Dougray stirred, snorting something in his sleep and scratching his nose. Kathlyn gazed down at him, feeling her animosity swell.  If only she had the nerve to take a hammer to him right now.

"Dougray," she said, louder. "Get up. We need to talk."

The man rolled around a bit, his eyes opening slowly. He blinked a couple of times, his gaze moving across the tent until it fell on Kathlyn. For a split second, she could see the terror in his eyes. But just as quickly it was replaced by venom.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "How dare you break into my tent."

She put up her hands. "Look, I'm not armed, nor is there anyone with me. I'm alone and I mean you no harm. But we seriously need to talk, Mr. Dougray, without all of the pomp and circumstance going on. Just you and me, heart to heart."

He struggled to sit up. "I have nothing to say to you," he said. "Get out before I call the Marines."

She sighed heavily, far calmer than she should have been. "I wish you wouldn't, at least until we've had a chance to clear the air. There's no audience, no Marcus. Would you please just answer me one question?"

"I said get out."

"Just one question and I will."

He groped for his glasses and robe. "You have a lot of nerve, Dr. Trent. You send a slanderous email around the world and now you want to talk about it? The next talking you'll be doing is to my lawyers."

She sat down in the nearest chair, watching Dougray work himself up into an uncharacteristic lather.  "Just one question, Mr. Dougray."

"Then ask it and get the hell out of my tent."

"Okay," she nodded her head slowly. "I can handle the murder attempt and I can handle the personal persecution. But I want to know one thing; why did you have to lie about everything? Why couldn't you have just been a man and accepted responsibility for what you've done?"

He rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his upper lip. The man had been caught off guard and was struggling to gain the upper hand.

"Lie about what?" he said snappishly.

"Everything."

He signed in exasperation. "My dear Dr. Trent, I don't know what you're trying to do, but you're not going to wrangle any sort of confession from me. I have nothing to say."

"Not even about The Order of Qodesh haq-qodeshim?"

"I have nothing to say."

Kathlyn nodded her head, looking at her hands as she contemplated her next move. "You know, I did some reading on your sect. A friend of mine sent it to me. There isn't much about it, but in the Library of the Vatican, they have a few files online that could be accessed. And I found out a few interesting things."

Dougray's dark eyes were strangely calm. "I don't know what this would have to do with me."

She shrugged. "Nothing, except that the founder of the sect, Pythias, was accused, among other things, of stealing from his followers to support his habits in the brothels of Rome and of having his own brothel and living off of the profits. That in itself isn't strange but something else I discovered was. He was also accused of attempting to accumulate his own army."

Dougray didn't say anything. Kathlyn continued. "It also seems that in 621 A.D., Pythias was in Jerusalem when the Babylonians lay siege to the city. Since the Babylonians built a siege wall and no one could enter or exit the city, Pythias was presumably trapped.  There was a chronicler of the siege of Jerusalem by the name of Nebuch the Wise, whom I am sure you've heard of. He has given biblical scholars over the centuries real insight into the period of that time.  Do you know of this man?"

She could see that Dougray was sweating profusely. He remained silent. For the first time in days, Kathlyn sensed she was gaining the upper hand.

"Well, it's of no matter whether or not you do, but I suspect you do.” She continued on. “Nebuch the Wise tells us of the priests of the Temple moving the Ark of the Covenant into a hiding place because of the siege to the city. He mentions a group of zealots who tried to kill the priests and steal the ark. Although attempts like this have been made of the centuries, this particular attack interested me. It was apparently led by a man named Pethos."

Dougray's nostrils flared. Kathlyn knew she had him. She went in for the kill. "For your benefit, Pethos is the Hebrew name for Pythias,” she watched the emotions across his face. “Pethos was arrested and crucified for his crime in the midst of this horrible siege. But as he lay dying of exposure and dehydration, he mentioned quite a few interesting things, for example, how he and his followers had intended to use the ark to back their army to conquer Jerusalem and eventually the known world. He spoke of an all-holy Jewish brotherhood sent to scour the earth with the fury of God. They also apparently had their sights on several other holy relics to further substantiate their power.  After reading all of this, I came to one inalterable conclusion."

              Dougray's skin was ashy. He no longer wiped at the sweat on his lip; he just sat there and stared at her.  She didn't want to give him a chance to blink as she concluded.

"I've come to think that you and you sect aren't out to destroy the holy relics to preserve the sanctity of the Jewish religion,” she was intense as she spoke. “That line you gave us was a crock of nonsense. I think you are collecting these relics to back some sort of zealot army. You know that Hitler tried to do the same thing and you saw what happened to him. Regardless of that, you're amassing an incredible army in the name of the Hebrew religion, backed by the power of the Ark of the Covenant, to march upon the face of the earth. You're trying to carry out Pythias' dreams, fifteen hundred years later."

Dougray was visibly shaken. "You can't prove anything."

Kathlyn ignored his statement. "Is this some twisted revenge, Mr. Dougray, to get back at the world for its historical persecution of Jews? Or is it simply the fact that you want to see Pythias' dream of a dominant army of Jews sweep over the face of the earth like an avenging plague of locusts?"

"Is that what you think?"

She shrugged. "I've had some checking done on you, courtesy of Andrew Leeves. Seems you've got a whole lot of people on your payroll who don't actually work for World Geography Magazine or any of their affiliates. They've all got names like Shumann and Shein and Altman. Apparently, they've all got some sort of military connection in their past, whether American, Israeli, or the French Foreign Legion.  They're stationed all over the globe under dubious titles like Logistics Specialist and Strategic Advisor.  Mr. Dougray, what on earth would you need a strategic advisor for?"

Dougray was fading fast.  He began shaking his head, wagging it back and forth like an over eager dog. "You're so very clever, Dr. Trent. I've always known this to be true.  It's truly remarkable what you're able to discover, arks or grails or confidential information."

Kathlyn prayed that the tape recorder was getting all of this. "The State Department and the Department of the Military are on to you, Mr. Dougray. This goes beyond me and what I represent. You were using me to find these relics for your super Semitic army.  When I fell in love with Marcus and focused on this Egyptian dig which, by the way, has absolutely nothing to do with your little world domination scheme, you decided I was no longer of any use to you and needed to be done away with for what I already knew. You should have just left me alone rather than try to play God and destroy me. Now your attempt to kill me has backfired and the entire world is on to you."

Walter Dougray, Chairman of World Geography, Incorporated, took a moment to wipe his brow as he rose from his chair. Kathlyn watched him closely, not trusting him in the least. She half expected a knife to come flying at her. But her intuition, usually so sharp, was silent. Standing over by his traveling valise, Dougray began to laugh softly.

"It's truly amazing what life can bring," he said softly. "When I was young, I wanted to paint. Just paint. Now I find myself in a position that the most imaginative novelist couldn't have created better." He turned to Kathlyn. "I remember seeing you for the first time about six years ago, doing a low budget cable program on the fortress of Masada.  I remember one of my editors contacting me just after that program and asking if he could hire you for some freelance work. Of course I agreed.  We all thought you were a piece of art, delicious and marketable. Never did I realize just how you would figure into the scheme of things."

It was difficult to judge his mood. He seemed very calm, almost pleasant. But Kathlyn wasn't buying it in the least.

"Who did you have to find your relics before I came along?" she asked softly. "I've only been around six years. Surely there was someone before me."

Dougray nodded. "There was. David Ross."

Kathlyn was surprised. "But you said you had him killed to make way for Abrahams?"

Dougray shrugged. “Ross wanted to protect you. He didn't want us having anything to do with you. So we had to do what was necessary, because we saw brilliance in you that Ross could never provide. You were our greatest hope in achieving our goal."

"Which was?

"Do I really need to answer that?"

He did if she wanted it on tape. "Mr. Dougray, I don't care about your plans to take over the world or whatever you want to do. I just want to be left alone to work with my husband. You can find someone else to do your dirty work. How can we achieve this so we're not both looking over our shoulder for the other?"

Dougray shrugged. 'I don't think we can, Dr. Trent. There's too much water under the bridge."

"So short of trying to kill me again, what's the alternative?"

Dougray turned slightly and reached into his valise. "There is no alternative," he pulled out a small forty-five caliber weapon and pointed it at her. "Please get up, Dr. Trent."

Kathlyn's heart went into her throat.  "You can't be serious. Everyone in camp will hear you."

"You broke into my tent. I feared for my life and I shot you. Considering our recent history, I doubt anyone will disbelieve me."

Kathlyn fought down her panic. He meant every word and she knew it. "With what the President of the United States and the State Department know about you now, you'll be charged with murder in no time. Then see what becomes of your little sect."

"Nothing has been proven."

"Everyone from the press to the president knows my theory. I'm sure the mad-dog media has already explored your past with a fine-tooth comb. They're closing in on you as we speak, probably arresting Abrahams and Baras and anyone else who's involved. If you kill me now, you'll be validating my theory because I knew too much."

Dougray faltered and Kathlyn saw her chance. She threw up her hands. "Go ahead, shoot me. Prove me right. Make me a martyr, Dougray, do it!"

"You're mad," he hissed. "How can you be so foolish if you know everything you said is true.  You bait me!"

"You're damn right I'm baiting you," she hissed. "Shoot me. Make me an icon that stands against everything you believe."

He shook his head. "You crazy bitch."

"I may be crazy, but you're the one who's going to burn in hell. You and Pythias can be dungeonmates."

"It makes no sense to toy with me.”

She was actually enjoying the confrontation. Maybe she really was crazy.  "Let me ask you another question, Dougray. What have you done with the ark?”

He looked surprised. "You would ask me that when I have a gun pointed at you?"

"Why not if you're going to kill me anyway?"

He took a contemplative breath. "You don't have to worry about it. It's safe. As for the other things, they're safe as well.  And in spite of your snooping, I am confident I can smooth over any ruffles you may have caused.  My order has been around far too long to let people like you destroy it.  In the end, we shall have our retribution."

"Then you admit all of it."

"Every word of it," he said with satisfaction. "You're a very bright woman, Kathlyn.  It's too bad I am forced to eliminate you."

Digging into her pocket, she ripped out the still-rolling tape recorder and thrust it at him.  "Thank you very much!"

Shock swept him when he saw what she had done. Her boldness enraged him. But he shouldn't have expected otherwise. Gnashing his teeth like a madman, Dougray pulled the trigger, sending the bullet sailing over her head. Kathlyn bolted for the door with Dougray right behind her.

Another bullet zinged past her head as she ran for the dig site. She was much faster than Dougray, but he had the gun and five bullets left by her count, providing he had started with a full load. Another bullet winged by her and seriously altered her course; it nicked her left arm and she veered to the right. The motor pool was in front of her. Leaping into the nearest jeep, because it seemed the logical thing to do, she revved the engine and sped off with Dougray in pursuit.