The North Korean skidded to a stop at a huge circular stone propped up on its side between two large blocks on the ground. He took cover behind the far side and waited, panting for air.
He pressed the button on his gun and released the magazine, letting it fall to the ground. Then he reached to his belt to get a full one, taking another quick look back around the stone to make sure no one was coming.
The gravel crunched behind him without warning. Han-Jae spun around to see a fist coming at his face.
Sean’s knuckles smashed into the man’s forehead right between the eyes.
The gun dropped to the ground, and Han-Jae took a step back. He winced from the pain but was alert enough to catch Sean’s next shot. He grabbed the American’s fist, letting his fingers slide down to the base before squeezing hard, and twisting.
The sudden move bent Sean down and toward the enemy, who drove his knee into Sean’s jaw. Han-Jae didn’t let go, instead pulling the American down again and once more into his knee. After the second kick, Han-Jae drove his fist into Sean’s cheek. He pummeled him repeatedly in the temple and side of the face.
Sean’s vision blurred. He knew one or two more blows to the side of the head would end the fight and probably his life. Desperate, he reached out and grabbed the Korean’s pants. With the last ounce of energy he had left, Sean tugged at the pants as hard as he could.
Han-Jae raised his fist again as the American pulled on his pants. His foot slipped on the gravel and he lost his balance, toppling over backward and hitting the top of his head against the stone. He fell to the ground and groaned, planting both hands on the gravel as he tried to get up.
Sean spit blood through his lips and crawled toward the edge of the wall overlooking the rolling desert plains and hills. He grabbed the wall’s lip and pulled himself up. He blinked rapidly, bringing the scene below and the Dead Sea in the distance into focus.
His head throbbed, his lip stung, and both sides of his jaw ached.
Somehow he managed to stand up. The sound of gravel crunching underfoot alerted him to the approaching danger. He heard the pistol slide, chambering a new round. Han-Jae’s shadow stretched out around Sean’s feet. He saw the shadow of the man’s arm stretch out, pointing the weapon at the back of Sean’s head.
“Now you—”
Sean didn’t let him finish the sentence. He ducked his head to the side, twisted his right arm back, and grabbed Han-Jae’s wrist.
The weapon fired a bullet harmlessly into the air.
The Korean struggled to wrest his hand free of Sean’s grip, but the American wouldn’t let go.
Han-Jae drove his knee into Sean’s chest, weakening his grip for a moment, but within a split second Sean regained his strength and pulled his opponent toward the wall.
Han-Jae punched with his left hand. Sean caught the fist with his palm just inches from his face. He torqued the enemy’s hand into an awkward angle. Han-Jae screamed and released his grip on the pistol. The weapon clacked on the outer edge and then fell over the side, down the cliff.
Sean twisted Han-Jae’s hand a little more and then drove his elbow into the arm. The bone snapped easily, bending the appendage at a gruesome angle and sending a fresh surge of pain through the North Korean’s nerves.
Han-Jae yelled and smashed the bridge of his other hand across Sean’s face, knocking him back to his knees.
Everything went blurry again in Sean’s eyes. He braced himself with an elbow on the wall’s surface and gasped for air. The world was spinning. He was barely able to process his opponent standing up and stepping away.
Han-Jae staggered a few feet toward the stone and then spun around, holding the broken arm with his good hand.
Sean struggled to his feet and faced the man, uncertain he could fight much longer.
“You interrupted me before,” Han-Jae said. “I was saying it’s time for you to die.”
He took two steps and jumped. His right foot lined up squarely with Sean’s chest. The move was so swift and sudden, Sean barely had a half second to react. He sidestepped and swung his right arm. Han-Jae flew by as Sean’s elbow caught him in the back with just enough force to send him over the edge.
Sean turned around and saw his opponent’s fingers clutching the outer lip of the wall in a desperate struggle of skin on stone.
Leaning over the edge, Sean saw the man balancing his weight on a narrow ledge. His toes looked to be slipping, and with only one good hand there was no way he could stay there for long.
Sean braced himself on the wall by planting both hands flat on the surface and looked down. His fear of heights mixed with the constant dizziness nearly caused him to vomit.
“It was you,” Sean said. He tried hard to focus on his enemy’s face. “It was you who killed that scientist in Cologne.”
“So? I’d do it again. All for the glory of—”
Sean had heard enough. He made a fist with his left hand and hammered Han-Jae’s fingers.
The North Korean shrieked and let go, simultaneously losing his balance and falling backward. His voice echoed up the slopes as he fell, the sound of his screams breaking off when he hit the bottom.
Sean pulled himself away from the ledge and put his back to the wall, sliding to the ground.
He panted for breath. So many parts of his body hurt.
“I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered. He spat another clump of blood out onto the gravel and looked up at the stone.
Then it hit him what he was seeing. He started chuckling at first. Soon it broke into laughter until his chest started hurting.
Adriana came around the bend and saw him first. She was followed by the others who saw him sitting on the ground against the wall.
She rushed to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Sean looked up, still brimming with laughter. He nodded slowly. “I will be. Everything hurts right now, but I’ll be fine.”
Tommy and June joined them by the wall. Tommy stuck out a hand to help Sean onto his feet.
“You know what, thank you, but I think I’m just gonna sit here for a few days.”
Tommy’s parents stood by the giant stone, staring at it with wonder in their eyes. Baldwin and his men arrived, too. They also gazed in amazement at the big circular rock.
“Do you know what this is?” Baldwin asked.
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“What happened… you know, to the other guy?” Tommy interrupted.
“Oh, he needed some air,” Sean said and jerked his thumb back toward the cliff. “And to answer your question, Baldwin, that appears to be a rolling stone they used to seal up tombs back around the time of Christ.”
“It doesn’t appear to be one. That is exactly what it is.”
“So?” Tommy asked. “What’s the significance?”
Sean answered for Baldwin. “That, my friend, is what was drawn on the clue I took from the Vatican.”
“Wait,” June cut in. “Are you saying that the sword is…”
“Yeah.” Sean gave a nod. “I’m saying the sword is hidden right here, under this stone. The very stone some say covered the tomb of Jesus.”
“He’s right, son,” Tommy’s father said. “We always thought this might be the location, but we weren’t sure.”
“And getting information in North Korea was like trying to learn how to fly a plane in the Stone Age,” his mother added.
June shook her head. “This is incredible.”
Adriana put a hand against the stone. “So Arthur’s Round Table… on the surface it was about equality and being of one voice, but in reality it was a representation of where he found Excalibur. The sword in the stone.”
“Or under it, as it were,” Sean said.
“And the lake,” Tommy said. “One of the legends talks about a lady in the lake.” He looked off into the distance. “You can see the Dead Sea from here. I wonder if that had anything to do with it.”