The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller (19 page)

Dubai

Mamoud stared in disgust at the Israeli archaeologist. His men had put the prisoner back in his cell as soon as he arrived back at the mansion from the Indonesian flight. Once Sharouf knew where to find the breastplate, he sent two of his men back to Dubai with Nehem. It was a risky move but a calculated one. Sharouf reasoned the older man would slow them down. Even though he’d come in handy with his ability to decipher the clue in the temple at Borobudur, Sharouf’s plan for the monastery in Bhutan hadn’t required any such expertise.

His trap had worked perfectly. With only so many flights coming into Paro on any given day, it was easy to pick out the one with the Americans on it. Sharouf and his men watched from a distance as Wyatt and Schultz got in their car and made their way up to the base of the mountain trail.

They followed the two men up the winding trail, careful to stay far enough behind to not be seen, and keeping close to the trees that lined the path in case they needed to duck for cover. Once, one of his men stepped on a twig, snapping it loudly. Fortunately, he and his men reacted quickly, ducking out of sight in the nick of time. It had been painful to watch how slowly Wyatt made his way across the ravine. It was an extended period of time Sharouf had not counted on, not that it mattered. The plan had worked brilliantly.

Wyatt and his friend had convinced the monastery’s abbot to take them to the hidden cavern, which turned out better than Sharouf could have hoped. The targets were boxed in with no way to escape. He’d wondered if he did the right thing by leaving them there to die, but what choice did he have? If they engaged in a shootout, someone would hear. The other monks would discover the passageway and seal it off. Then everyone would be trapped. By locking Wyatt inside, no one would know what happened, and no one could get in to save them. There was the off chance that someone would notice the abbot was missing and go looking for him, but by the time that happened and they were able to unlock the door, Sharouf and his men would already be back in Dubai.

Now he stood in the doorway of Nehem’s cell, watching his employer extract the final piece of the puzzle. A fresh scar from the car accident in Indonesia still marked his face.

“Where are the stones?” Mamoud asked. “We’re not going through this cat and mouse game again, Doctor. Tell me where we need to go. If you play nice, I’ll even let you see the power the ancient relics possess before I kill you.”

“I will never lead you to the stones. I do not know how you were able to get the Hoshen, but the stones will remain hidden for all eternity.”

Mamoud slowly closed and reopened his eyes then shook his head. When he spoke, he wagged a warning finger. “I thought you might say something like that, which is why I figured you might need a little extra motivation.” He motioned to Sharouf who, in turn, waved his hand to one of the other bodyguards.

Three seconds later, a stocky, broad-shouldered young Arab with a shaved head wrestled a woman in white pants and a white blouse through the door. She was probably in her midtwenties. Her black hair hung down past her shoulders. The handkerchief clenched between her teeth kept her from screaming, but that didn’t stop her from making as much noise as she could. When her eyes locked with her father’s, she froze for a moment.

“Raizel?” Nehem started to stand, but Mamoud pressed down on his shoulder with remarkable strength, forcing him back into the seat. The Israeli’s eyes shifted instantly to his captor’s. “Let her go, you monster. She’s innocent.”

“None of you are innocent!” Mamoud boomed. “I’m tired of your games, Nehem. Tell me where the stones are, or I will cut your daughter to pieces before your eyes.”

Tears streamed down Nehem’s face, mirroring those of his daughter. She was full of confusion and fear as she gazed at her father. He knew she didn’t understand why any of this was happening. No matter what their insane captor believed, she was truly innocent. Raizel had her whole life ahead of her. As he stared at her tear-stained face, Nehem weighed the consequences of his decision. If he gave up the location of the stones, Mamoud would be unchallenged by any world government, any army. He would always be a step ahead.
Was that future really certain, though?
There was always the chance that someone could stop him, even if the odds were low. All that mattered right now was his daughter. The lives of millions of people didn’t matter to Nehem at this moment. Only one did.

“Susa.” He blurted out the word amid choking back tears.

Mamoud tilted his head sideways and narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said the stones are in Susa.”

“In Iran?”

“Yes, in Iran at the tomb of Daniel the prophet.” Nehem spat out the words quickly so he couldn’t change his mind.

“You’re certain of this?”

Nehem looked up into the young Arab’s dark eyes. “I swear it.”

Mamoud thought for a second before responding. “You know what will happen…”

“Yes, I know!” Nehem shouted. “Now let my daughter go. You have what you asked for. Let her go in peace. Do whatever you want with me.”

“No. We will need to keep you both a little longer, my hasty friend. If I let her go now and find out you’re lying to me, we’ll have to go through the trouble of finding her again. She might even do something stupid like go to the police and tell them what happened. While the authorities are comfortably in my pocket, I don’t need the extra hassle right now. I have much to tend to, after all.”

“So you’re going to keep us here while you go to Iran?”

Mamoud shook his head. “No. I’m going to need you once we get there. If what you say is true and the tomb of Daniel is the location of the stones, I will release you both from there.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “Just so you know; I do not believe you are lying about the tomb. I believe you. It’s just that if we come across something like in Indonesia and your expertise is needed, it will be nice to know you’re close by.”

It took every ounce of Nehem’s energy to keep him in his seat. His mind ran wild with visions of launching himself at the man, wrapping his arms around his throat and strangling him until the last gasp of air escaped his lungs. Instead, Nehem snorted loudly and attempted to slow his breathing.

“You want to kill me, don’t you?” Mamoud asked, still leaning close.

Nehem locked eyes with his captor and said nothing.

“I know you do. I would too if I were in your position. Understand, it isn’t personal. It is my mission. And soon, the entire world will behold the fruits of my labors.”

Buka, Azerbaijan

Sean ended the call with Emily and set the device back on the tray to his right. He was frustrated. After telling her everything that happened in Indonesia and Bhutan, she was still stuck amid a bunch of red tape. She wanted to go after Al Najaar and his crew, but the CIA had somehow learned of what Axis was up to. They’d stepped in, and now the entire mission was in danger. She asked for the go-ahead from President Dawkins, but he was stalling. He knew that going after an Emirate national could be political suicide, and as he put it, “You don’t piss in your friend’s backyard.”

That meant Emily was in a holding pattern and couldn’t do anything until there was more proof that Al Najaar was up to something. Sean knew that calling her and asking her to kick in the man’s door was a shot in the dark. It was hopeful at best. And the president was right: They shouldn’t go in without evidence of some wrongdoing. Just because one of his men had tried to kill Sean was no reason to start World War III. It was worth the shot, though. If Emily could marshal a strike team to go into Mamoud’s compound — or even better, see what he’d been doing with all those shipments — it would not only buy Sean some time, it might just end this whole charade much quicker.

Since that plan was out of the question, he pondered another. She needed proof. Maybe he could give it to her.

Of all the resources Emily had at her disposal, one of her weaknesses was technology. Axis had a codebreaker and electronics security officer available at all hours of the day. Neither one, however, was capable of doing what Tara and Alex could do. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Sean remembered Tommy telling him about how they were able to hack into nearly any database in the world. Although heavily encrypted databases slowed them down, it didn't stop them gaining access. However, there were a few doors they knew not to knock on, such as the Pentagon’s mainframe; that was a hack that could see them spend the next fifty years behind bars.

The thought kept poking at Sean’s mind. If the kids could break into Mamoud’s databases and find out what he’d been shipping and importing, they might be able to find enough proof to warrant sending in the cavalry. It was worth a shot.

He looked over at Tommy in the seat across from him. “You said Tara and Alex were accomplished at hacking into things, right?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I mean, they’ve toyed around with a few things from time to time. Nothing illegal. Well, maybe it was illegal, but they didn’t steal anything. It was just to snoop around.”

“That’s exactly what we need them to do right now. Give them a call, and see if they can pull any information on Mamoud Al Najaar: big transactions, shipments, manifests, anything they can find. He’s up to something. We need to tell Emily exactly what it is so she can do her thing.”

Tommy nodded and picked up his phone. Sean directed his attention to Adriana, who was sitting next to him. “What about your father?” he asked. “He’s a part of the intelligence community. Does he know anything about this guy or what he might be up to?”

She stared at the floor for a moment. It was a second of vulnerability. He’d struck a nerve with his question, though he wasn’t sure why.

“No,” she answered. “He’s gone under.”

Sean frowned. “Under? Why?”

“It’s complicated. I’ll tell you all about it at some point. But he won’t be able to help us.”

Sean nodded, letting the issue go. “Okay.” He paused and looked out the window at the sea below before speaking up again. “Have you ever been to Iran?”

“Yes. Only for a short visit. It is an interesting culture. I’ll need to hide my face while we’re there.”

“Actually, you really don’t have to, though it might be better that way.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” She jabbed him in the ribs.

He winced and laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was, it would keep you disguised. Most women don’t hide their faces in that country. But doing so might be useful. And there’s something else I need you to do. I have a plan.”

She listened closely as he laid out the details. When he was finished, she nodded slowly. “I like it. Of course, it all hinges on getting there before Al Najaar and his men.”

“I have to believe we will. And even if we don’t, I have a backup plan.”

“Do I get to hear it?”

He shook off the question. “No. And I don’t think you’d want to.”

Tommy ended his conversation with the kids and looked with satisfaction across the row at the other two passengers. “They’re on it. They said it may take a few hours, but given the volume he’s been working with, it will be hard for Al Najaar to keep everything hidden.” He looked as if he had another question. “So that takes care of that end, but what about our end? How’s this going to play out?”

The plane started its descent, and the engines whined as the turbines slowed.

“Al Najaar will be there in Susa.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s his style. He wants other people to do the dirty work. Then he wants to show up and take all the glory. More than that, though, he’ll want to try out his newfound toys.”

“He’ll attempt to use the relics,” Adriana said.

“Right. Which is why your role is so important.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Tommy looked befuddled. “Her role? What about mine?”

The other two smiled. “You’ll be with me. Did you remember to tell your man to bring extra ammunition? I have a bad feeling we’re going to need it.”

“I talked to our contacts on the ground before we left Bhutan, and they said it would be ready to go.”

To say getting into Iran would be tricky would be a monstrous understatement. Relations between Iran and the United States had never been solid, but over the years, things had deteriorated to a point where it seemed reconciliation would never be possible. The Iranian leader was seen on all the major media outlets, basically taunting the American president, daring him to make a move. While President Dawkins wouldn’t be goaded, he made subtle statements that let Iran know the U.S. wouldn’t be pushed around.

At the center of the debacle was Iran’s desperate effort to become a nuclear power. They were years, maybe decades away from achieving anything threatening, but the act they were trying was concerning in itself.

Sean wished that, for a day, things between the two countries were a little more amicable. It would make entering the country so much easier. As it was, they had to come up with an alternative plan for getting in illegally.

Tommy knew a smuggler who worked out of Baku in Azerbaijan, an Iranian neighbor to the northwest. Since getting into Azerbaijan was far less complicated, it made perfect sense to land there, drive south down the coast of the Caspian Sea, and cross the border via boat.

Tommy’s connection, a guy named Mick, smuggled all kinds of goods into Iran on a biweekly basis, taking everything from liquor to blue jeans to his distributors in the major cities. From what Tommy said, Mick had quite the elaborate operation, which was perfect since getting caught might mean never seeing the light of day again.

The plan was to board Mick’s boat about fifteen miles north of the Iranian border and take it thirty miles south to a point he’d used frequently. It was little more than a beachhead with no cities or residential areas nearby, but it provided exactly what they needed as a clean entry point.

Turkmenistan was closer in proximity to their rendezvous point in Iran, but Sean and Tommy’s contacts there were basically nonexistent. They may have been able to pull something together, but it would have taken longer, and time wasn’t something they had to spare.

Sean looked out the window again at the Caspian Sea below. The city of Baku exploded from the flat plains and merged with the sea. Baku was thriving. Tourism had picked up over the last decade, and Europeans were flocking to the area to enjoy the culture and climate. The city was impeccably clean and well run by the local government, which kept things safe for visitors. It also provided an excellent base of operations for smugglers like Mick.

The plane continued its descent into the city, circling over the city’s sprawling growth of concrete and steel.

Adriana retreated to the rear of the plane to try on her burkha. She wouldn’t need it in Azerbaijan but making sure it fit properly wasn’t something she wanted to do on a small watercraft as they tried to sneak into Iran illegally.

A few minutes later, she reappeared, covered head to toe with the jet-black outfit. “I don’t know how women wear these things all the time,” she complained. “It’s difficult to see clearly out of it.”

Tommy laughed. “You know, Iran is kind of progressive now. You could have worn jeans and a light jacket to go with that headpiece.”

Her eyes flung daggers at him, but from behind the veil, he barely noticed.

“I’m just saying. But better safe than sari, right…get it…sari…never mind.”

Sean shook his head. “That’s India, man.”

“I know. I just thought…whatever. Sari I brought it up.”

Adriana had been raised just outside of Madrid on her father’s estate. Part of being European was a general tendency to be a little more on the liberal side of things. Adriana’s schooling and friendships had cemented that belief system along the way.

Tommy left the conversation about her outfit and got back to business. “We’ll be meeting with our contact in fifty minutes in an old textile warehouse about three miles from the airport. Mick will pick us up and take us to the rendezvous point in Tehran. Our support is going to be sneaking across the border by land. Once we’ve been outfitted, we’ll probably be on our own.”

Sean agreed. “We’ll be fine. It’ll be easier to move around with just the three of us.”

“Like a bull in a china shop,” Tommy quipped.

“Yeah, and for the first hour we’re there, we need to keep things quiet.”

“You think this man, Al Najaar, knows where we’re headed?”

“Probably not Azerbaijan. But I’d say it’s a safe bet he knows we’re going to Susa. If he’s ahead, he’ll take precautions.”

“And if he’s behind?”

A familiar sly grin crept onto Sean’s face.

“I’ve got a plan for that too.”