A silent pause came over the room. After a few seconds, Alex came back on the line. “Do you guys always think this way?”
Sean stole a quick glance at his friend and smirked. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Um, no. Not really. I guess that’s why you guys are the best at what you do.” Tara’s said. The compliment made both of them blush a little.
Tommy ignored it. “There was something else when we were in the priest’s tomb. Three emblems were carved into the stone at three specific points surrounding the sarcophagus: the Star of David, an image of Ahura Mazda, and one other emblem. The first two were pretty obvious, but the last one was tricky. It’s a Buddhist emblem, from what I recall, a picture of two fish.”
He waited for a moment before Alex’s voice came through again. “In the Buddhist religion, the two-fish symbol is meant for one who is willing to face a difficult trial, essentially what could be a lifetime of sacrifice and suffering. Many monks considered it to be their divine obligation to take on such an existence. I wonder why that and the Babylonian symbol were there.”
“Ahura Mazda,” Sean spoke up, “was also said to have gone through great trials along his journey. Tovar must have known he was sending these two young men on an extremely dangerous mission. They would be on the run, always looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. It was a great sacrifice they had to make to protect their people.”
It was a sobering thought, and one that brought about silent reflection to the four on the phone.
“Is there anything else you two have for us?” Tommy asked.
“That’s it for now. Sorry we couldn’t get you more information.” Tara sounded apologetic.
“You did great. This, combined with what we figured out, means we definitely have something to go on.”
“So you found the answer to the code. Where to next?” Alex sounded genuinely curious.
Sean answered. “Java in Indonesia. The world’s oldest Buddhist temple is there, a place called Borobudur. From what we can deduce, it was the hiding place of one of the relics. We’re not sure which one, though.”
A pause hung in the room for a few seconds, and then Alex spoke up again. “It looks like this Buddhist temple is a UNESCO world heritage site. It was abandoned a long time ago, when most of the people in the area converted to Islam. Have either of you ever seen this place?”
Tommy and Sean passed each other a questioning look, and both shook their heads. “Actually, I have once but I didn’t get to roam around much. There were…extenuating circumstances,” Tommy said.
Sean raised an eyebrow at the curious comment.
“Oh, wow. Okay,” Alex interrupted. “I’ll just assume you don’t know much about the site. You should know that it’s a huge facility. I can’t imagine how many hours it took to lay all those stones. Not to mention how many people were used for the labor.”
“Anyway,” Tara cut him off, “good luck, and let us know if you need anything.”
Tommy grinned. “Will do, Tara. Thanks to both of you.”
He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Sean eyed him suspiciously as he finished collecting his things. “You really haven’t been to Borobudur?”
“Shocking, I know.”
“I mean, I guess you can’t see everything. Or can you?” He stuffed a Ziploc bag containing his toothbrush and toothpaste into one of the bags. “I heard about a blogger who visited every country in the world.”
“That’s impressive,” Tommy said, pressing his lips together.
“Yeah. I would have thought together we could have at least done that.”
“We’re not dead yet.”
The words hung in the hotel room’s industrial, filtered air.
“Here’s hoping that doesn’t happen anytime soon.”
13
Sharouf held the phone to his ear. All he heard was the intermittent ringing of the device on the other end. No answer.
He’d tried calling four times over the course of the last forty minutes. For some reason, his men weren’t answering. With each subsequent failed call, Sharouf’s anger grew, and his frustration built.
He ended the call and stared at the phone for a few seconds, trying to understand why no one was answering. At the moment, Sharouf was alone. Mamoud was busy handling a few business matters and had retired to his office to take care of things, leaving Sharouf to make sure things in Israel were going according to plan.
When Mamoud had recruited him, Sharouf had come at a hefty price. His reputation with various paramilitary groups and private security organizations had preceded him. Mamoud gave him a room in the mansion, not as luxurious as his own, but better than Sharouf had ever called his own. The downside was that he had traded his freedom for a life of ease and wealth. Most of the time, he didn’t need to do much, occasionally encourage someone to leave the premises. Rarely, he had to eliminate a problem.
Now, he stared out his window. He’d kept his room minimally decorated compared to the rest of the home. His black wooden bed was covered in plain white sheets. The only other furniture in the room was a small chair made of maple, which he used simply for putting his shoes and socks on in the morning. The last piece of decor was his prayer mat that sat under the window. Despite the ruthless and often cruel nature of his job, Sharouf believed himself to be a deeply religious man, which was another reason he chose to work for Mamoud. The two were like brothers when it came to their ways of thinking. They believed in the old ways, the ways of the Saracens and the sultans of old. Only through the sword could peace be achieved. The peace they sought, however, was through the destruction of the West.
Sharouf had a special hatred of the Americans.
He’d served a tour with one of the private security companies in Iraq during the American occupation there. He’d watched as the American soldiers treated Muslims like subhumans, killing first and asking questions later. They cracked jokes and made bets on how many Muslims they could kill in a day, all the while thinking that Sharouf didn’t speak English. Every word and every action that came from the Americans seeped deep into his soul. He stored the experiences and the things he learned in the vault of his mind to be called upon later, when the time was right. In a black Denali with several other security team members wasn’t the right place or the right time.
Now, however, things were changing. Mamoud was giving him his chance for payback, and he must not fail. His employer shared Sharouf’s vision, and more importantly, possessed the resources to make it happen.
But things, evidently, were not going according to plan.
One thing Sharouf had learned a long time ago was never to put all his eggs into one basket. He had confidence in the men he'd sent to eliminate Wyatt. If that hadn’t been the case, he would have sent others, or simply more men. But even the best-laid plans fell apart from time to time. Sharouf was well aware of this, which was why he’d not entirely played his hand yet. Sometimes, it was best to hold a card for later.
He scrolled through his contact list and found the name he was looking for, tapped it, and waited for the phone to ring. The man on the other end answered instantly.
“Your men are dead.”
Sharouf recognized the voice as one of his trusted mercenaries, but the news with he provided when answering the call was direct and troubling.
“Both of them?”