Marcus thought about his last conversation with Bahir. ‘It has been said, prophesied perhaps, that whoever has the spear, if he understands its secrets, its power for good or evil, he may have the destiny of the world in his hands. This would make it one of the most valuable artifacts on the face of earth.’ Marcus called Alicia and said, “As a scientist, there was always a clear line between science and religion. One is data driven, the other spiritual. But now I’m seeing how factors of religion — the unseen, can feed the science.”
“Sometimes the lines can get blurred,” she said.
“But can they corroborate each other? You’d mentioned your father is a military scholar, right? General Patton is his specialty?”
“Yes, Dad’s maybe one of the best. Why?”
“If Patton’s forces found the spear that was used to stab Christ, if they removed it from Hitler…what became of it? It was called the Spear of Destiny. The legend is that the spear holds some kind of power for whoever possesses it. A dozen of the world’s most prominent or dominant rulers are said to have possessed the spear at one time. Hitler may be the last one…unless General Patton found it. Alicia, I think this spear holds the key to a code I found between Newton and the Bible. If Patton found it, did he return it…or keep it? I know this sounds crazy coming from a guy who has studied science all his life…but the spear allegedly has as much of a curse as it may have power. If its claimed owner loses it…he or she soon dies. Did Patton have it in his possession before his death?”
“I don’t know if my dad has that information, but I’ll ask him. It could take his mind off the cancer. I’ll do some research, too. Speaking of research, I found information that points to another odd thing about General Patton after the war.”
“What’s that?”
“He apparently acquired, maybe stole, documents known as the Nuremberg Laws.”
“What are they about?”
“Essentially, they were the dictator’s constitution, drawn up by Hitler and his henchmen, that set into motion the process that would lead to the extermination of more than six million people in Europe. The laws consisted of three decrees. One was the law for the safeguard of German blood and what they called German honor. This called for the prohibition of marriage or sex between Aryans and Jews. The next was known as the Reich’s Citizen Law, which defined a citizen of the German Reich as one of German blood. The third was called the Reich’s Flag Law, and that defined the flag of the Nazi state. Why Patton had these original papers is anyone’s guess. They were papers the prosecutors in the Nuremburg Trials needed to use against many of the Nazis criminals. Prosecutors had to resort to using copies of the originals.”
“What’d Patton do with the originals?”
“He donated them to the Huntington Library in California about a month before he was killed. This same library has the rare Gutenberg Bible. I found out it was printed about 1450 in Mannheim, Germany. The text is in Latin.”
Marcus was silent for a moment.
“Paul, are you there?”
“Patton died in Mannheim, Germany. You mentioned that David Marcus played a big role in the Nuremberg Trials, helping to choose who would face charges and the penalties available to the court under war crimes against humanity.”
“Yes. What’s all that noise in the background?”
“I’m at the Western Wall. People are praying…some are chanting. Alicia, something happened that I want you to know about.”
“What?”
Marcus described Layla Koury, the conversations, and said, “She’s probably working as an agent out of Tehran. I told her she could deliver a no thank you to her director. It was then she mentioned the two Americans being held, and suggested if I cooperated they wouldn’t be convicted and risk a death sentence.”
“Dear God!”
“The question is this: did Layla Koury know of my connection to you, or is it a coincidence that she mentioned the two Americans being held by Iran?”
“I don’t know.”
“It wouldn’t be that hard for that information to be available. Tehran can quickly trace most family and public information connections to your niece Brandi and her boyfriend, Adam. But do the Iranians know you and I have talked…or that I’ve asked Secretary Hanover to intercede?”
“I wish I knew. What do we do now? How do I tell my sister? Bill Gray has to know. Maybe the president can do something.”
“Let’s sit on this a little while—”
“Sit on it! Why, Paul? They might execute my niece!”
“Not yet, they won’t. It’s too high profile. And they want something from me.”
“Why don’t you want me to say something to —?”
“The less we say to anyone right now, the better. Trust me here, Alicia. I have a feeling that the road paved to the capture of your niece was actually planned years ago.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Alicia Quincy pulled into the driveway of an English Tudor-style home in Alexandra, Virginia. An indication of her father’s illness was in the yard. Leaves. The front yard was covered in autumn leaves. Her father always raked and bagged the leaves before they had time to accumulate. She parked and walked through ankle-deep foliage from the maple and oak trees. The trees surrounded the home, the place where she spent her childhood. She thought about Halloween approaching, how delighted her parents were to hand out candy. Now only Mom could do it. Alicia felt it was odd how things like that come to mind when a parent has terminal cancer.
She used her key to unlock the front door and let herself inside. The home smelled different. There was the odor of disinfectant, bleach and medicine. She entered the family room where her dad was sleeping in a large recliner. She looked at his ashen face, heard his raspy breathing. He’d lost so much weight, grey hair thinning, dark circles under eyes that were always so bright, so proud and protective of her. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.
“Alicia, I didn’t know you were coming. I would have had something prepared for you to eat.” Her mother, Helen, came in from the kitchen and gave her a hug. Somehow, to Alicia, her mother looked smaller — almost as if she’d aged in the ten days since Alicia had last seen her. Helen’s hazel eyes were red and puffy, shoulders more rounded, the creases deeper in her face.
Alicia said, “That’s why I didn’t call, I didn’t want you to go to the trouble of fixing something. Besides, I already ate breakfast. How’s Dad doing?”
Helen looked down at her sleeping husband. “He’s a fighter, but the fight is draining him. I can see it in his spirit. Jane from hospice just left. They’ve been so good. Your father’s taking painkillers. He’s been sleeping for a couple of hours.”
“How are you, Mom?”
“I’m okay I suppose. I’m trying to keep on keeping on, and it isn’t easy when your father is so sick. We’ve been married almost forty years now.” She blinked back the tears. “With what’s happened to Brandi, and with your father’s cancer…I guess a person can reach her breaking point. I tried to be strong for your sister, but Dianne and I broke down yesterday, hugged and cried for an hour. Have you heard any news about Brandi and Adam?”
“I hear they’re being treated well. We’re working hard to get them out. They’ll be home soon, Mom.”
Her mother nodded and tried to smile. “Let me put on some tea.”
Alicia nodded. “That’d be good, thanks.”
Helen left the room. Alicia pulled a chair up next to her father’s recliner and adjusted the blanket across his chest. His eyelids fluttered and opened. Sam Quincy smiled when he saw his daughter. “Alicia, are you really here?”