“This time, I’m not so sure,” he advised. “Not after what I saw. And if something should happen to you, then I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I could have stopped you. Now with your father gone, you’re all I’ve got. Please understand that. If it is Eden, just let it go.”
“If it is Eden, then the world has to know.”
Montario stared at her, wanting to smile but couldn’t. “You’re so much like your father,” he finally said.
She feigned a smile. “If there’s a legend to be had, then it’ll be his. My father deserves this.”
He couldn’t deny her sentiment or fortitude regarding the love of her father. “Then you take care of yourself,” he told her, his voice starting to crack. “And be careful.”
She took a step closer. “And what about you, Montario? What are your plans?”
“Me? I’m going back to New York,” he told her, “to finish up with my studies at NYU.”
She looked at him as a brief moment of silence passed between them. And then she laid a hand on his forearm and stroked it gently. “You know I’ll find this place,” she said calmly. “You know I’ll find Eden.”
He sighed. “I know,” he told her flatly. “I just wish you wouldn’t.”
A moment of time passed between them as they stood diametrically opposite from one another; one possessing the conviction to find Eden, the other content with knowing what was inside and having the presence of mind to leave it alone.
In an instant, they embraced as the anger and disagreements between them bled themselves dry. Even though he confessed to love her as a brother, the truth was that he loved her fully and deeply. Alyssa Moore had always been his first thought in the morning when he woke, and his last thought at night when he went to bed.
His passion was too great for him to admit.
When they pulled apart and looked at each other, he wanted to tell her about his underlying emotions. But he could not find the courage to do so.
“I got to go,” she said finally.
He smiled in return, hating himself for feeling so awkward about his feelings. When she left, he allowed his shoulders to drop. At least he had not given her the black book, he told himself. He was sure somewhere within its encryptions lay the coordinates Alyssa wanted. He was justifying his actions as championing a cause that would ultimately save her life. Without the book, she would not have a directional blueprint to follow. And she would be safe.
But if there was one thing about Alyssa Moore, he thought, it was that she was dogged by nature. Although she may have been rendered petite in stature, the fight in her was incredible.
So he prayed that her father had hidden his secrets well — as he was prone to do.
But if he had not, then he would guard the secrets of the book.
He turned to the closet that held a baggie containing his clothes and personal items. Inside was the black book which he would take to New York.
After all, he considered, some places were never meant to be found.
And in this case, he was spot on.
CHAPTER TWO
Not only was Alyssa Moore tired, but she continued to mourn the loss of her father. While sitting at her desk, she had taken on a vacant stare that seemed to look well beyond the walls and into the nether regions of dismal thoughts, a world that was as gray and disturbing as a film noire. She was calling up images of her father when a tear coursed lazily down her cheek and dangled precariously at the edge of her jaw a moment before falling.
“If you wish, Ms. Alyssa, I could come back.”
Upon hearing Noah’s voice, she sat up and ran the back of her hand across her cheek. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
She shook her head. “I’m all right, Noah. Please, come in.”
Noah was a tall man who had to duck beneath the flaps of the tent to enter. Besides the cot, a few tables, and a laptop for networking and research, the area was quite spartan. “I just wanted to inform you that Emiyet Müdürlüğü officials are on site asking about your father and his expedition.” The Emiyet Müdürlüğü was similar to investigative police.
Alyssa nodded. “Thank you, Noah.
He moved closer. “You know this already,” he began, “but your father and I go back long before you were born.” Looking over the research papers that lay scattered across the tables, and the photos of the bas-relief carvings posted on the Göbekli Tepe columns, he told her, “Everyone — including scholars and world-class professors — believed your father to be chasing a myth. But whenever they doubted him, he always brought up the names of Frank Calvert and Heinrich Schliemann.”
Alyssa knew where this was going since she heard it a thousand times before, this story of hope. Whenever colleagues disputed her father’s claims as nothing more than a feeble attempt to shine a spotlight on his endeavors, he always countered by naming Calvert and Schliemann as the founders of Troy after following the blueprint of Homer’s writings. For many years, scholars had disputed the existence of Troy, stating that it was nothing more than the fictional account of the Greek author. But in 1865 they had proved them wrong by discovering the city right where Homer’s writings said it would be, in Turkey.
“They eventually proved the world wrong,” he added. “But unfortunate as it may be, your father will not be able to confirm his findings.” He made his way to Alyssa until he stood behind her. “Do you believe that your father found Eden?”
“I believe he found something.”
“Then my intent is merely to suggest that we attempt to prove your father right. I suggest that Montario act as the guide since he knows the location.”
“Montario isn’t going,” she told him. “He wants nothing to do with this.”
“Surely with the find of a lifetime—”
“Montario isn’t going, Noah. He knows where it is. But he says some things were never meant to be found.”
“Why would he be afraid of the ‘find’ of a lifetime?”
She hesitated before answering, and then she enlightened Noah as to everything Montario had told her — such as the creature within the tunnels, about the crypts and the Crystal Wall within the Central Chamber, the wall a schematic of some kind.
“My father’s dream will become a legend someday,” she told him. “I promise you that.”
“Then you know of its location?”
“No. But I’ll look for them in my father’s records.”
“Your father kept things well hidden. Perhaps you won’t find them,” he said.
“That’s always the possibility, Noah. But I will find Eden… somehow.”
“Very well, then.” There was a slight pause between them as he turned toward the tent opening. “If you wish, I can handle the Emiyet Müdürlüğü.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she returned, patting his liver-spotted hand. “I’m sure they’ll have questions only I can answer.”
“We’ll talk later then.”After giving her a quick and supportive rub on her back, Noah Wainscot left the tent.
CHAPTER THREE
Obsidian Hall was a man of incredibly expensive taste. So expensive, in fact, that he was listed as one of the wealthiest men in the world amassing a multi-billion dollar fortune from commercial and financial holdings, with his corporate office a 300-foot yacht that was in constant motion.