"Yes. Cask and Swords found it."
"But no one has the Ark. I don't understand how that fits with what you say is their goal. Starting a war."
"If they can find it, they'll use it to raise tensions in the Middle East to the breaking point. War would follow. The US would get involved. Cask and Swords members behind this would make a great deal of money. There is also a religious component. One of the leaders is somewhat fanatical. He wants to instigate a new crusade against Islam."
The car stopped. After a moment it began moving again. It was very quiet.
"What if there isn't any Ark?"
"Then they'll manufacture some provocation. These people already have great wealth. It's not just about the money, it's as much a game of power as anything else for them. They are determined to have their war. Just like before."
"Jesus, Adam."
"Follow the trail, Nick. Find it before they do. Watch your back. I'll help if I can."
The car came to a stop. Nick heard the lock click. After a moment the door was opened by the driver. Nick got out of the car. They were back in front of his building.
He watched the Cadillac pull away. He knew the license plate would yield no information. One day, he'd find out who Adam was. Right now that was the least of his concerns.
Watch your back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Selena sat across from Nick in the Ops Center. She'd said nothing to him when he came in. Stephanie brought up a detailed map of Jordan on the monitor.
"In my opinion, the best place to look is Petra." She pointed at a spot on the map in the southern part of Jordan, 80 miles inland from the Israeli border.
"Why Petra?" Nick said.
"Look at the route we decided Moses had to take. It goes right to Petra."
The line was almost a straight shot from Egypt across to Jordan. At Petra it turned north to the Biblical Holy Land.
"There wasn't anything in Petra in the time of Moses," Lamont said. "Why go there?"
"There's a mountain there called Jabal al-Madhbaḥ. It's where Moses made water spring from a rock and where his brother Aaron is supposed to be buried. Sometimes winter storms in the area create vivid plasma displays. That could fit the description of fire on the mountain in the Bible."
"I don't know," Nick said, "that's slim."
"There's more. Petra is at the end of a narrow gorge. The wind comes through it and makes a trumpeting sound. The locals call it the Trumpet of God. That fits with the Bible story too."
"That's the place in the Indiana Jones movie," Lamont said. "The one about the Nazis and the Grail. Buildings carved out of red rock."
"I've been there," Selena said. "It's an amazing place."
"Tourists have been crawling over that place for years. There's no way the Ark is there." Nick shook his head.
"Remember the fourth quatrain?" Selena said.
"Go on."
She looked at him. Her voice was impersonal. "The people who lived there controlled the trade route. They built cisterns and canals to store water and sold it to travelers in the desert."
"Water bartered as gold."
"Yes. Petra is famous because of elaborate tombs carved out of red sandstone. When the sun hits it just right, the whole place turns red."
"Like Sedona," Ronnie said, "in Arizona."
Lamont started humming an Eagles tune.
"Any castles?" Nick asked.
"There's a crusader castle," Selena said, "in ruins."
"We could fly into Amman and play tourist," Lamont said.
Nick said, "Let me run it by Harker."
Upstairs he took Selena aside. "You're right. I'll make another appointment with the shrink."
"Why did you walk out of the last one?"
"I got angry. It felt like he was accusing me. But when I play it out in my mind, I can see that he wasn't."
"Are you going to tell him that?"
"I guess."
"Want to go get lunch somewhere?" she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"You pissed me off," Nick said.
Milton nodded.
"It sounded like you were blaming me for what happened. For the deaths."
"Why don't you talk about that?"
"You were there. You know what it's like."
"Yes. But we're not talking about me."
"Why is this important?"
"You tell me." Milton sipped from a mug with an inscription that read I Used To Be Schizophrenic But We're So Much Better Now.
"You're not going to give me much, are you?"
"What do you think I should give you?"
"I don't know. Advice, maybe? About how to stop the dream?"
"Would it help if we spent time analyzing it to try and figure out what it meant?"
"No. I already know what it means."
"There you go. Talk about that."
"Seems pretty straightforward. I had to kill a kid. I didn't want to. I feel bad about it."
"So why do you keep having the dream?"
"Isn't that what happens with PTSD? You have nightmares."
"More happened than just that kid. You were almost killed. Several of your men were killed."
"It's what happens in war."
"That's like saying the sky is blue."
Nick felt himself getting angry again.
"You're getting angry. Want to tell me why?"
"It feels like you're not listening. I say something and you throw another question at me or dismiss what I say."
"Because I said that about the sky."
"Yes."
"When you say people getting killed is what happens in war you're ducking the issue."
"What issue?"
"You tell me."
Nick wanted to get up and walk out again. He thought about Selena.
"I guess almost getting killed."
Milton nodded. It could have been approval. Or not. "How did you feel when you saw that grenade coming at you?"
Nick's back began hurting. "I didn't feel anything."
Milton waited. Nick remembered.
The boy's head explodes in a cloud of blood and bone. The grenade is in the air, coming at him. He starts to move but he can't get out of the way. He's helpless…
"I don't remember," Nick said.
Milton waited.
"Helpless," Nick said. Milton nodded, just a little.
"We're almost out of time," he said. "Do you want to come next week?"
"I'm going out of town. I'll have to call when I get back."
"Good," Milton said.
As Nick walked to his car he felt like something had happened, but he wasn't sure what it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
They flew into Amman, rented a Land Rover and dropped Lamont and Selena at the hotel. From there Nick and Ronnie drove to the American Embassy. Harker had sent their weapons ahead in a diplomatic pouch.
The embassy didn't look like a diplomatic outpost. It looked like a fortress. It was a massive, white building three stories high, set back behind a high wall of fitted stone. An armored personnel carrier manned by Jordanian troops patrolled outside the wall. Palm trees planted at regular intervals tried and failed to create the impression of a normal building. A forest of antennas and satellite dishes rose from the roof. The windows were square and featured diamond shapes that reinforced the thick glass. Tall black iron fencing and metal gates blocked the entrances.
At the front desk they were directed to a room on the second floor. A brass nameplate on the door announced the office of Eric Anderson, Second Cultural Attaché.
"Agency," Ronnie said.
"Our man in Havana."