“We can’t go in there,” Nehem protested.
Sharouf answered by opening the door and pushing him inside. “Look at that. We can go in. Now walk around to the back of the statue’s base.”
Nehem saw the mess: the Buddha sculpture lying facedown with pieces broken off, candles and urns scattered on the floor. “What happened here?” He turned to face his captor, but the only answer he received was Sharouf pulling the weapon from his belt and pointing it at Nehem’s face.
“I said go over there.” He motioned with a nod of his head.
Nehem had been living in fear for the last several days. Having a gun pointed at him right now didn’t change much of anything. It simply reinforced those fears. He kept his hands out to the side and slowly shuffled through the disarray. Sharouf followed closely, keeping the pistol trained on his prisoner. When Nehem arrived at the far wall, he stared down at the cavity next to the drawer.
His eyes widened. “You want me to go down there? Where does it go?”
“No.” Sharouf shook his head. “Tell me what the inscription on the drawer says.”
Nehem hadn’t even noticed the engraving. His focus had been on the hole. Now that Sharouf mentioned it, he was surprised he’d missed it. He kneeled down on both knees and leaned over, bracing himself with one palm on the floor. He ran his index finger across the ancient lettering, slow and deliberate to make sure he was translating everything correctly. It didn’t say much, but Nehem knew what it meant right away.
“What does it say, old man?” Sharouf pressed the barrel to the back of the Israeli’s head.
Nehem took a long, slow breath. He dared not turn around. The slightest twitch could provoke this maniac. “It’s Sudanese. It says that whatever was here before is gone.”
“I know it’s gone!” Sharouf shouted. “Where is it now?”
Nehem could see the man had become desperate. And desperate people did rash things. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that his captor would shoot him in the face and dump his body in the underground passage. Nehem swallowed hard. “It would appear that whoever took it relocated the relic to the mountains of Bhutan. To the Tiger’s Nest.”
Sharouf’s right eye twitched a second before he squinted at the answer. “What do you mean, the tiger’s nest?”
“There is a monastery in Bhutan. It’s the only logical conclusion. This inscription says that the relic was taken to the Tiger’s Nest. I know of no other place that goes by that name. Someone must have feared it would fall into the wrong hands and taken it to the monastery. It would surely be kept safe there.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The Tiger’s Nest is difficult to reach. It was built on the side of a steep cliff nearly five hundred years ago. The monks there are holy men. If someone entrusted them with a secret, it would be well kept and passed down through the centuries to a select few.”
Sharouf pulled the weapon away from his prisoner’s head for a moment and pondered the answer. “If you’re lying to us, you will die.”
Nehem laughed. He was beyond fear at this point. “We both know I’m going to die anyway, young man. It’s only a question of when. My helping you will only extend my life so far. The moment we find what you’re looking for is the moment you will kill me. I know this, so let’s not pretend, shall we?”
Sharouf eyed him suspiciously. “Then why would you help us at all?”
Nehem drew in another deep breath and sighed. “Because I know that good will always triumph over evil. Whatever it is that you and your employer have planned will fail no matter what I do.” He paused for a second then said, “Not to mention that I have dreamed all my life of seeing these artifacts. Would be a shame to come so close and not have that chance.” Nehem didn’t tell his captor that he hoped someone else would beat them to it, and that perhaps that someone could also be his savior.
Sharouf wasn’t sure he believed the explanation, but it didn’t matter. As long as the prisoner wasn’t lying about the location, that was all he cared about. If the Americans had translated the inscription, they would be heading to the monastery as well. He relished the chance to face Wyatt again. This time, it would end differently. This time, he would be ready.
23
The drive west to Jakarta took nearly three hours. Sean only stopped once along the way to fill up the gas tank and check under the hood to make sure the little rental car hadn’t taken on any damage during the chase that might strand them in the middle of nowhere. Bullet holes riddled the panels on the back and sides. The windows were basically destroyed, though they could still see through the severely cracked windshield.
Along the way, Tommy called the pilot to let him know there’d been a change of plans. Fortunately, the man had grown accustomed to the sudden changes his employer sometimes required. Tommy informed him they would need to fly to Bhutan, and based on a best guess from a quick Internet search, the city of Paro would probably be their best option as a port of entry. The pilot concurred.
Upon arriving at the airport, Sean glanced at his phone and saw he’d received a text message from Emily.
Tommy looked over as Sean was reading the screen. “Who’s it from?” he asked as he opened his door and started to get out.
“Emily,” Sean said, his voice distant.
He pressed his thumb and index finger against the screen and then pulled them apart, zooming in on an image. Emily had asked if he knew anything about the guy in the picture. She said his name was Sharouf Al Nasir, but nothing else. Emily’s inability to get information on a target could only mean one thing: they were trying to keep their past a secret.
Odd thing was, the guy in the picture was one of the men in the car he’d just destroyed a few hours before.
His fingers flew across the screen until he found her name in his contact list. He tapped the phone symbol and waited. Six seconds later, Emily answered.
“Took you long enough. I was actually starting to worry.”
He snorted. “Sorry, I don’t like to text and drive. Why are you asking about that guy in the picture?”
“Do you know him?”
“No, but he and his goons did just try to kill me and Tommy. If you asked me to put money on it, I’d say he’s dead now.”
“Dead?”
“I’m not completely sure. They chased us from a temple here in Indonesia, tried to run us off the road, shot at us, the whole nine. It did not go well for them.”
“Sean, I need to know, did you kill this man or not?”
He scratched his head for a moment and looked around the area. The sun shone brightly in the sky, making him thankful for his sunglasses. “I don’t know, Em. Killed the guy’s driver and one other gunman that was with them. He was on the other side of the car when it crashed.”
“What do you mean, it crashed?”
A taxi honked, the driver behind the wheel frantically waving his hand at Tommy. He shook his head and motioned the driver on.
“I mean I shot the driver in the head and sped up. When I looked back, the car was flipping down the road. If I had to guess, everyone inside was dead, including the one in your photo. Where’d you get that anyway, and why are you watching him?”
Emily sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can find out if he was killed, could you?”