The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller (9 page)

A quiet calm fell over the room once more. Sean and Tommy mulled over the information Karem had given them. It seemed like he was talking about some kind of magic, though the two Americans knew better than to insinuate that. Growing up in a Christian church, both of them had heard all kinds of stories from the
Bible
. Miracles and unexplainable events were commonplace. Now, the possibility of finding two of the objects that seemed to revolve around something miraculous sent goose bumps across their skin.

Two more questions still needed answering, though.

“So,” Sean spoke first, “the question is, who wants these things badly enough that they would kidnap an archaeologist to find them? And second, what do they want with the relics?” 

Karem answered him. “Nehem must have been looking for these artifacts to preserve their historical value. I do not see why he would do otherwise. However, in the wrong hands, the Hoshen and the sacred stones could be a powerful force.”

Sean and Tommy paid close attention to what he was saying, both minds racing with horrific scenarios even as Karem explained. “If someone, say a terrorist organization or insurgent group, were able to get their hands on those objects, assuming they do what the Scriptures say, it could spell doom for millions of people. They could find the answers to questions about military positions, stock market information, technology, and who knows what else. Use your imaginations. They would be able to effectively shut down global commerce. Armies would be rendered ineffective. Computer viruses would run rampant through the web. It would be worldwide chaos.”

Those were some of the scenarios Sean was considering, even as Karem was speaking. “That’s assuming these things actually do what the texts say they do. Right?”

“Correct.” Karem answered quickly, but something in his voice told the other two that he wasn’t confident in his response.

“We’ve dealt with future-telling devices before,” Tommy attempted to lighten the mood. “It didn’t work out so well for the bad guys.” In his head, he recalled the events in Greece.

“Look, we’re missing the point,” Sean tried to guide them back on track. “Whether the Hoshen and those two rocks actually do what the
Bible
says they do doesn’t matter at this point. We need to find whoever took Nehem and get him safely home. If we happen to recover a couple of priceless Israeli treasures along the way, great. But we need to focus on finding Nehem.”

Karem and Tommy nodded their agreement. “Where do we start?” Tommy asked. “We don’t exactly have a lot of leads.”

“Sure we do,” Sean corrected. “We know where to look for the breastplate.” He leaned down and picked up the print. “Call the pilot, and tell him to make a flight plan for Indonesia.”

Tommy didn’t wait to be told twice. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A few seconds later, he was conversing with their pilot who was waiting around in Tel Aviv, probably at an Internet cafe. It only took a minute to relay the information. When he was done, Tommy looked at the other two. “We’re good to go. Need to get back to the airport. He said the plane will be ready within the next two hours.”

Sean folded the print and put it in his back pocket. Tommy took the two sheets of paper with the symbols and the translations and folded them carefully, putting them inside one of his cargo pockets.

The men turned to leave, but a noise stopped them in their tracks. Across the room, the doorknob was jiggling. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it was definitely moving back and forth.

Someone was trying to get in. And they were trapped.

Jerusalem

For one second, all three men inside the apartment froze. They turned their heads, looking to one another for an answer. Tommy shrugged as Sean glanced at him. Sean, however, wasn’t a man of indecision. He acted quickly, his thoughts in perfect sync with his actions.

He motioned for Tommy to come to the door with him. His friend shook his head and mouthed the word
No.
Sean pointed at the side of the door closest to the hinges, instructing him to stay behind the opening once the intruders came through. That way, he could attack from behind.

With a clearer understanding of his role, Tommy nodded and tiptoed over to the other side of the entrance. Sean pulled the gun out of his ankle holster and pressed his back against the wall. Karem still stood by the desk, uncertain of what he was supposed to do.

Sean urgently motioned with his hand for the man to go hide in the bedroom in the back. Reluctantly, Karem obeyed. He knew his strengths, and he realized that he would be of little assistance in a fight.

The door jiggled more violently. Karem hurried to the back of the apartment and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

A sudden jarring thud came from the door, and a man’s shoe and leg followed through as the portal gave way to the heavy kick. Sean pointed his weapon but didn’t fire. If he were to miss, Tommy was now behind the door, and even though it could potentially stop the bullet, he didn’t want to chance shooting his friend. Sean’s thought was to use the gun as a way to get whoever came through the doorway to stop and surrender.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go down that way.

A man with a scarf over his face came through the door and only lost his balance for a split second, recovered quickly, and jabbed his own handgun at Sean’s chest. The long barrel of the silencer made the weapon awkward and unbalanced, a fact that played to Sean’s advantage in the moment it took the man to aim. Sean dropped his right hand and reached out with the other, grabbing the elongated barrel and yanking it to the right just as the intruder fired. The muffled pop sent a round harmlessly into the drywall. Before he could squeeze off another shot, Sean jerked the man toward him. Using his momentum, he planted his forearm squarely in the attacker’s nose.

Behind the mask, the man grunted. He stumbled backward, dizzied by the shattered nose and the pain shooting through his skull. His eyes instantly watered, and he instinctively put his hands to his face. Sean took a step forward and was about to send his boot into the intruder’s gut when another man came through the door. Tommy had been waiting in his hiding spot, anticipating the right moment. Seeing the second attacker coming through, he took that as his cue and shoved the door hard as the next man tried to aim his weapon at Sean.

The door crashed into the man’s side, jarring the arm that held the gun. The barrel puffed a thin cloud of smoke, and the bullet zipped through the wall on the other side of the room by the desk. Tommy yanked the door back and moved quickly around it. Using the element of surprise, and the attacker’s imbalance, Tommy punched him in the jaw with a right hook. The blow sent the man stumbling back through the door, but he kept his weapon in hand and regained his composure a moment later. Tommy’s stocky frame wasn’t the most agile, but he managed to duck to the side as the gun fired again. He sidestepped and then quickly slammed his elbow into the man’s forearm. Reaching over his elbow, Tommy grabbed the gun’s lengthy barrel and twisted it hard, using his momentum to wrench it from the intruder. As he did, the masked man spun his body and brought his leg up, snapping the top of his foot into the target. His boot struck Tommy in the face and sent him reeling backward until his back struck the wall in the corridor, outside the apartment.

Inside the apartment, Sean lashed out at the crippled attacker while the man’s hands were still grasping at a bleeding and broken nose. He jumped forward and kicked out, aiming for the man’s ribs, but somehow the intruder was aware enough to step back and grab Sean’s shoe before it reached the target. In the same quick motion, the man twisted the foot to the left and pulled hard. The move caught Sean in midair and sent him in a spin, crashing to the floor. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder as it struck the hard surface. Sean didn’t have time to hurt, though. The intruder had regained his vision and stomped hard with his boot, intent on crushing Sean’s face.

He rolled out of the way, put his hands on the floor, and swept his right leg out as the attacker tried the move again. Sean’s leg clipped the man’s ankle, and combined with his weight, sent him toppling backward onto the floor, landing hard on his shoulder blades.

Sean spun to a crouching position as his opponent lifted his legs and, pressing his hands against the floor, leaped acrobatically back onto his feet. Sean’s shoulder ached. He had to keep focused, though. The other man was hurting too, blood oozing from his crushed nose down into the black scarf.

The man put his hands up in a position Sean recognized. The intruder was evidently trained in the martial arts of hand-to-hand combat. Sean waited for the attack he knew would come. There was a momentary pause, a second of nervous anticipation. Sean’s heart pounded in his chest, and his lungs heaved rhythmically. Then the man launched his attack.

He lunged forward with a kick. Sean raised his right knee and blocked the strike with his shin, sending a fresh pain through his entire leg. He stayed focused though as his opponent lashed out with a fury of blinding fast punches. One after the other came at Sean like lightning. His hands were just as fast, though, and he parried and blocked each one. A quick knee aimed at Sean’s midsection followed the blizzard of jabs, but the man overcommitted and stepped right into a counterpunch. Sean’s fist came to a snapping stop three inches behind the target as the man’s head cracked back. The blow caused him to waiver for a moment. Sean didn’t hesitate. Like a shark with blood in the water, he attacked mercilessly, first with a foot to the abdomen, then a knee kick to the face. The bloodied man staggered backward, miraculously still on his feet. Sean pounced, pressing the attack further, and grabbed the back of the man’s head while in the same motion jumping hard and bringing his knee up. The hard kneecap struck the man’s chin with such force that Sean could hear teeth chipping and bone breaking. The attacker fell onto his back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body went still.

Outside on the second floor landing, Tommy grappled with the second attacker. The man had jumped at him, attempting to kick him in the throat, but Tommy had grabbed him out of the air and now was desperately trying to get the guy into a submission hold.

The intruder was slippery, though, and every time Tommy thought he was about to close the deal, the man escaped his grip. Tommy spun the attacker around and wrapped his forearm around the guy’s throat in a chokehold. The victory was only temporary, though, and the man jerked his elbow into Tommy’s ribs three, four, five times before the knife-like pain weakened him enough to let go.

Tommy instinctively grabbed at his midsection. The other man took a step away, grasping at his throat and heaving for fresh air. He started to spin around and renew his attack; however, Tommy recovered first and charged. He lowered his shoulder and plowed into the target like an all-pro NFL linebacker at full speed. The man’s eyes widened as Tommy’s shoulder dug hard into his abdomen. The momentum drove the two precipitously toward a railing near the stairwell. Tommy kept driving his legs hard, in spite of the burning in his thighs. The other man’s feet shuffled backward, helpless against the larger American’s power. He tried to beat Tommy’s upper back with his elbow, but it was too late. The man’s tailbone struck the top of the railing, and in one continuous motion, Tommy forklifted him up and over.

The intruder shrieked for a second until his body clumped onto the concrete below. Tommy put his hands on the railing and looked down. His lungs screamed for air, and he drew in huge breaths. Below, the man’s right leg was bent at an awkward angle, clearly broken. The man didn't move, but Tommy doubted he was dead. The fall was less than fifteen feet. If he didn’t land on his head, he would likely still be alive.

Back in the apartment, Sean reached down and felt his opponent’s neck. There was a faint pulse, barely detectable and extremely slow.

Sean hurried to the door to check on his friend and saw Tommy leaning over the railing, still gasping for air. Sean noticed the other attacker was gone and realized where he must be. Tommy heard the movement at the door and twisted around quickly, ready for another fight. When he saw it was Sean, he visibly relaxed. His friend joined him at the rail and looked down at the body.

“He dead?” Sean asked.

“Not sure,” Tommy said between breaths. “Doubtful, unless he landed on his head.”

“That leg is definitely broken.” He motioned with a nod at the black pants bent to the side.

“If he’s not dead, he’s going to wish he was when he wakes up. That’s probably a compound fracture.”

Sean nodded, taking a moment to catch his breath as well.

They heard a commotion back in the doorway and spun around with fists in the air, ready for another round. Karem stood on the threshold with eyes wide and mouth agape. He looked back into the apartment at the body on the floor and then again at the two Americans.

“Is he dead?” Karem asked in a trembling voice as he jerked his thumb at the man on the inside.

In the ruckus, the two friends had forgotten he was still inside the apartment.

“No, not yet,” Sean answered. “But he’ll be out for a while.”

Karem walked onto the landing like a zombie. When he reached the railing, he looked down and saw the second man. He put his hand over his mouth as if to prevent himself from vomiting. “Is he…?”

“We don’t think so,” Sean answered. “But we’ll go check in a minute.”

“His leg…”

“Oh it’s broken, guaranteed,” Tommy said. His breathing had finally slowed from the struggle.

Karem stared blankly at the two friends, then down at the man below, and back at the Americans again. His lips trembled as he spoke. “Who
are
you two?”

Sean glanced at Tommy and then back at Karem. “It’s a long story.”