The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller (7 page)

“Israel.”

Dubai

Fury burned in Mamoud’s eyes as he stared through his most trusted bodyguard. He had a million questions, but only one remained at the forefront of his mind. It hung on his lips like rain drops on the leaves of a tree, begging to drop from the weight of its burden.

“How did this happen?”

For the first time since Mamoud had met him, Sharouf’s face expressed worry. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it was there nonetheless.

He didn’t answer at first; instead, his eyes remained on the floor as he searched for answers. When he looked back up, his boss knew he had none. “I am not certain. But we know where they are headed.”

“You only know they’re in Israel!” Mamoud roared, his voice bouncing off the walls like thunder in a raging storm.

Sharouf took a deep breath. “There is only one reason they would have gone to Israel, sir. We know where they are headed. They will go to the tomb first, most likely. When they are done there, they will visit the archeologist’s apartment to search for clues.”

“And how do you know for certain?”

“It is the only thing that makes sense.”

Mamoud’s temper eased a little as he considered what Sharouf was saying.

The guard continued. “The only explanation is that, somehow, Nehem was able to contact them. We know that he sent an email to his American friend. Their escape and subsequent trip to Israel could only mean they are attempting to find Dr. Ben Asher.”

Another thought occurred to Mamoud as his man was talking. “Is there any chance we could be implicated?”

“None. And we made sure there was nothing left in the doctor’s apartment. I personally oversaw the search. All we could find was the tablet. Nothing else.”

Mamoud nodded, but there was still a look of concern on his face. He stood still for a moment. A finger involuntarily scratched his beard on the right cheek. Then he ran both hands through his black hair, leaving them hanging on the back of his neck for a second as he sighed.

He let his hands down and walked over to a window that was nearly the size of the entire wall. It looked out onto the blue waters of the Persian Gulf, where turquoise turned to deep navy, speckled with intermittent whitecaps. A single puffy cloud hung in the otherwise perfectly clear blue sky.

Wyatt was like the cloud, lingering around, ruining what should have been a perfect plan. If the cloud was permitted to stick around, others could join it, and before he knew it, Mamoud would have a storm on his hands.

He spun around and faced Sharouf, who had turned and watched his boss as he paced to the other side of the room.

“Do you still have any operatives in Jerusalem?”

Sharouf nodded. His lips barely parted in a knowing grin. “I have two stationed ten minutes away from Ben Asher’s apartment. They’re on standby.”

“Call them. Have them pay the doctor’s residence a visit. Make sure Wyatt and his friend don’t get out alive this time.”

Sharouf nodded and retrieved the phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen a few times and then put the device to his ear. After the second ring, he heard a voice on the other line. His orders were swift and direct. “Eliminate them both,” he said, finishing the details of the command.

He ended the call and slid the phone back in his pocket. “They will take care of it. Both of them are highly trained. They used to work for Pakistani Special Forces. After today, you won’t have to worry about the two Americans anymore.”

“Good.” Mamoud said and turned back to gaze out at the azure sea. While he had confidence in his right-hand man, that certainty was starting to wane. First, the mistake in Atlanta, and now he had two men Mamoud has never met carrying out orders in a faraway land.

He’d read the dossier on Wyatt and Schultz. Wyatt was a highly decorated former government agent. He’d worked for the United States Department of Justice, but some of his exploits had been hard to uncover. With Wyatt, it seemed there was more than met the eye. The report claimed that he was retired from government operations, and had worked with his friend, Tommy Schultz, at the International Archaeological Agency as a transport and logistics security agent. The title sounded made up, but there were rumors that the man was extremely dangerous, and usually armed.

Schultz, too, was no pushover. Information on him had been easier to come by but was somewhat disconcerting. While he was not as expertly trained in the deadly arts, several reports indicated he could handle his own if pushed into a fight. Schultz’s IAA organization was well known all over the world, and he had personally been responsible for the recovery of some of the most priceless artifacts in history.

He stared out into the bright sunlight for a few more moments before spinning around and facing Sharouf. “Up the timeline for our preparations.”

Sharouf seemed puzzled by the odd change of plans, and by the vagueness of the order. “How soon do you want them ready?”

“The cells should be ready to begin operations when you give the command.”

The bodyguard’s face contorted into a frown. “What if the archaeologist doesn’t produce what you’re looking for? Will we still move ahead according to plan?”

Mamoud considered the question for a moment before he answered. “We have spent too much money and time planning this. The moment has come for the West to pay for its insolence. We were told by the great prophet that the infidels must convert or be destroyed. They have chosen the latter. And we will be the tip of the sword that brings their destruction.”

Jerusalem

Karem and the two Americans left the tomb and made their way back to the car. Five minutes later, they arrived at an apartment Nehem had rented for the duration of his research, however long that was going to take. The exterior looked like every other building in the area. Sean was always surprised at the almost Communist appearance of many buildings in the Middle East. It was especially surprising in Israel, considering the enormous amount of money that flowed into the country from tech startups, as well as research and development companies.

One app startup had recently been purchased by Internet giant Google for the hefty price tag of $1.3 billion dollars. Even after it was bought out, Google decided to leave the startup’s headquarters in Israel, which kept hundreds of people employed and the money still rolling in.

The bland-gray sides of the building soaked in the warm rays of the morning sun as Sean and Tommy followed Karem through the parking lot and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Once there, they continued forward until reaching a door on their left.

Karem had visited Nehem at his temporary residence on several occasions. He took a keen interest in what was going on with his research, and when the archaeologist had uncovered the strange tablet, his interest had only grown stronger. Karem seemed somewhat despondent as they approached the apartment door. He’d become friends with Nehem years ago, and the two had worked on many projects together. Now, it was a friendship that Tommy and Sean were grateful for, and one that seemed to cause Karem a great deal of concern.

When the three reached the door, they saw no evidence of a break-in. The doorknob was still intact, and there were no signs of forced entry. Sean put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. The metal twisted easily, and the door swung open.

Inside, it was a disaster area. Papers were scattered about on the floor, and the sofa and chairs were sliced open, their cotton innards strewn about chaotically.

“Someone has definitely been here,” Tommy stated the obvious.

Karem and Sean both looked at him with a
no crap
expression. 

“What was your first clue?” Sean teased.

“Hilarious,” Tommy said. He walked through the opening and into the trashed apartment.

The refrigerator had been left open, and a puddle of water had collected at its base. The pantry door was open, too, as were several of the cabinets. A seat cushion was on its side next to a television that had been knocked onto the floor.

“They really left no stone unturned,” Sean commented. “Whoever came through here was extremely thorough.”

“Should we not call the police?” Karem asked with growing concern in his voice. “We should report this, yes?”

“You might want to hold off on that for a minute,” Sean warned.

“Why? Now we know that someone vandalized his apartment, things were probably stolen.”

“Agreed. But we need a few minutes in here first to see if they missed anything.”

“Missed anything?” Karem was adamant at this point. “Look around. They destroyed the whole place. How could they have missed anything?”

Tommy had drifted over to a desk in the corner. It was void of anything. The paperwork, pens, stationery, and everything else that belonged to it had been cast onto the floor in the hurried search. The drawers had been pulled out and thrown into the pile too. The only drawer that remained was the center one over the chair space.

He’d worked with Sean enough to know where to look when other people thought they’d searched everywhere. While the men who took Nehem might have scoured his research, torn through his furniture, and believed they found what they were looking for or not, Tommy and Sean knew that the cleverest people in the world always found a way to hide their most important information. Usually, it was right under the searcher’s nose.

“Nehem knew I would come here,” Tommy said, interrupting the other two and their argument about calling the police. “He knew I would come to Israel, looking for him. He was afraid. I thought when I read his email that was maybe the case. His typing seemed hurried, his tone concerned. If he knew someone was coming for him, he wouldn’t have just sent the photos of the tablet to me. There was something else.”

He scratched his head and sat down in the humble wooden chair near the desk. He pulled out the center drawer and felt underneath it, on the bottom of the workstation’s surface. His fingers ran along the smooth wood but found nothing. Tommy had hoped there would be something taped to the underside of the desktop. Unfortunately, his guess was wrong.

He didn’t give up. He stood and stepped over to the back of the desk that was flush against the wall. Pressing his back against the wall, he leveraged his weight and moved the workstation back six inches so he could see the front panel. As the surface was exposed to more light, he saw that there was nothing there.

Tommy sighed but tried to keep the disappointment from creeping into his thoughts. “Guys, flip over that sofa, and see if you can find anything underneath it.”

Sean nodded and motioned for Karem to help. The Israeli was indignant at first but surrendered and bent down as Sean stepped around to the other side and lifted the heavy piece. The two men tipped it over, revealing the woven polyester underside. Otherwise, there was nothing helpful to be found.

Tommy sat down in the desk chair and let out a long sigh. Whoever had come here before them had cleaned the place out. If there was a clue as to what it was Nehem was working on or who might have taken him, it was long gone by now.

Sean scratched the back of his head as he surveyed their surroundings. “I’m going to check the bathroom and the bedroom. Come with me,” he said to Karem.

Despite what he thought was best, Karem obeyed and followed Sean to the back of the apartment and into a bedroom that couldn’t have been more than twelve feet square. There was a small master bathroom attached to it with what looked like the cheapest faucet and sink the largest wholesaler had to offer.

Sean scanned the wrecked bedroom for clues. The cotton had been ripped out of the pillows and tossed aside. The mattress was removed from the box spring and lay at an angle over the edge of the latter.

The nightstand’s drawers were pulled out and emptied onto the floor. A few notepads, pens, and some prescription pill bottles were all that the act had produced. Sean looked over at a nearly empty closet. The clothes had been searched and dropped on the floor. He could almost see the invaders going through the process in his imagination.

“Well?” Karem asked. “See anything?”

Sean shook his head, perplexed. “No. They’ve been through all of this.”

Back in the other room, Tommy sat in the chair, with his head in his hands. To the untrained eye, he would have appeared distraught. The fact of the matter was that he was thinking hard about the situation. Nehem would have left a clue in a place that no one else would have considered.

Tommy closed his eyes and imagined the day of the abduction.
Nehem would have been sitting here at his desk, working on a translation for the tablet. The abduction would have happened here because the kidnappers wouldn’t be so foolish as to try to take him with so many people in view at the dig site. It had to be here.

He watched through his mind’s eye as the men came in and started trashing the place while Nehem just sat in his chair, patiently waiting until they snatched him up and took him away.

At that moment, the solution struck Tommy as he felt the hard surface of the chair underneath him. He stood up and flipped it over. Stuck to the bottom of the seat was a sheet of paper held by a few strips of Scotch tape.

He pulled on the paper’s edge, careful not to let the tape tear any of it. He stood up and looked at the image drawn on the paper. It was a drawing of the tablet, but it had some significant additions. Arrows had been drawn from the symbols at the bottom of the page, connecting them to certain spaces within the grid.

Tommy’s mind raced. Nehem hadn’t left him with the translation of the riddle. Why? That would have made more sense. Instead, the man had left directions for something else, another way of figuring out the translation perhaps.

His eyes probed the page for answers. The gears in his brain turned faster and faster. Then the realization hit him. Nehem wasn’t trying to give him the translation to the tablet’s code. He knew that Tommy would have already been able to figure that out with technology. Not only that, but if he’d left the translation under the chair and the kidnappers had found it, they would be that much closer to whatever it was Nehem was trying to keep hidden.

Tommy’s eyes grew wide as the solution came to him in an instant. The tablet wasn’t just one code. It was two. The riddle was only half of the solution. Without deciphering the grid, finding whatever the tablet was linked to would be impossible. The symbols, the lines, the code, the grid, all of it became suddenly clear.

“Sean,” he shouted, trying to contain his excitement, “I think I have something!”