"If Solomon was buried in Jerusalem, how come nobody has dug him up?"
"Because he's not there anymore. The scroll says his bones were taken away as the Romans advanced on Jerusalem. That's not all. The sacred objects of the Temple went with him, a treasure that would be priceless today. The Jews were afraid the Romans would desecrate the tomb and violate the Temple. I don't know about the tomb but they destroyed the Temple after they looted it. "
"Does the scroll say where everything was taken?"
"South to the mountains of Edom and the kingdom of the Dedanites."
"I never heard of Edom or the Dedanites."
"The kingdom of Dedan was in what's now Saudi Arabia, between the desert and the coast of the Red Sea. It's desolate country. There's nothing there but sand, rock and a few villages built high in the mountains."
"Sounds like a perfect place to hide something," Nick said.
"Ephram writes that everything was placed in a hidden tomb. When this gets out, everyone will start looking for it."
"You think it will get out?"
"Of course it will. Too many people already know about it for it to stay secret for very long."
"I see what you mean about it causing trouble," Nick said. "The Israelis would do anything to recover something from the Temple. It's going to get political."
"You can count on it. The zealots will have a field day. The Arabs want to deny Israel any claim on Jerusalem or the Temple Mount. Anything from the Temple would strengthen the Jewish claim, not to mention the remains of Solomon. If everything is in Saudi Arabia, that really complicates things."
"If we know about the scroll so do the Israelis," Nick said. "Israeli intelligence is good. Mossad will have copies of the x-rays by now. They'll be reading the same thing you are. The Arabs won't take it well if the Israelis start snooping around on their turf."
"That's putting it mildly." Selena pushed aside her notes and massaged her forehead. "It gives me a headache, thinking about it. Do you think whoever blew up the train set off the explosion in Grenoble?"
Nick rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Yeah, I do. It's too much of a coincidence. The Israelis could have done it but I don't think it was them. Taking out the train is overkill, they wouldn't need to do that. It's not their style. It could be someone we don't know about, a third-party with an interest in finding the treasure."
"It's not going to be easy to do that even if it still exists," Selena said.
"Is there anything you read that gives something specific about location?"
"There's a section I can't translate yet. There may be something on the next page but it's difficult to read. There are large gaps and what I can see is faint, much less defined."
"Sounds like something Stephanie could help with," Nick said. "There must be some historical mention of what happened to the Temple treasure."
"The only thing I've ever seen is speculation that it was hidden in caves underneath the Temple and later stolen. Or perhaps found by the Templars. Nobody knows," Selena said.
"Okay. But if there is something else, Steph will find it."
Selena yawned. She looked at the clock over the stove.
"My brain is fried." She stretched and yawned again. "I'm tired."
"Let's go to bed," Nick said.
"I'm looking forward to some sleep."
"Just sleep?" He put his arms around her.
"You have a better idea?"
"You know I do," he said.
She reached up and ran her hand over the side of his face. Her fingers touched the scar where a bullet had taken off part of his left ear. His cheek was rough with stubble. She looked into his eyes, gray with hints of gold.
"Why don't you show me what you have in mind?" she said.
CHAPTER 9
DCI Clarence Hood shook hands with his new Director of Clandestine Operations.
"Congratulations, Lucas."
The official Langley photographer snapped a few quick pictures. It wasn't every day that one of the four major directorates at Langley got a new boss. The DCO oversaw all of the secretive operations carried out by Langley's vast intelligence apparatus.
At first glance there was nothing in particular about Lucas Monroe to draw attention. He was of medium height, with skin the color of dark chocolate. It was his eyes that hinted at something best left undisturbed. There were hard lines around them, as if they'd seen more than they wanted to. He wore a gray jacket and dark slacks. The jacket concealed a pistol in a shoulder holster under his left arm.
It was an old habit to keep it with him, even though he no longer had as much need for it. Lucas had been a field agent for years, his exploits already the stuff of legend at Langley. He'd earned his new job the hard way, with smart decisions and a large helping of balls. He was the first black man to hold down one of the major directorates.
"That will do it, Clark."
"Yes, sir." The photographer left the room.
Hood gestured at a pair of leather armchairs in the corner of his office.
"Care for a drink? You've earned it. Come to think of it, so have I."
Hood's voice was mellow, touched with the soft accent of his southern birth. He was a tall man, almost cadaverous. The bones of his face stood out under pale skin lined with more than thirty years of service as a spy. He'd been appointed Director of Central Intelligence by President Rice after the apparent suicide of his predecessor.
"This is a special cask reserve from Kentucky," Hood said. "Best damn bourbon I ever had."
Hood poured two generous shots from a cut crystal decanter and handed one to Lucas.
"Confusion to our enemies," Hood said. They drank.
The two men sat down. Hood's office took up one corner of the seventh floor in the old headquarters building. From where they sat, they could look out over the rolling hills of Virginia, where the remnants of Lee's Army of Northern Virginia had retreated before Grant's forces in the final days of the Civil War.
"You're starting with a full plate," Hood said.
"It's always a full plate. At least it has been as long as I've been here."
"Now that you're DCO, you'll find there are some who resent your promotion. Some because they're jealous, some because of the color of your skin."
"That won't be anything new," Lucas said. "Thanks for the heads up. I can handle it."
"I know that. One thing you've got going for you is your reputation as an agent. The experienced operatives respect that and they'll respect you. The problems are going to come from people who haven't been through the fire like you have. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."
"I can handle it," Lucas said again. He changed the subject. "There are several ongoing operations I've been tracking. I don't see any immediate problems. I'm more concerned with new developments, especially that scroll that turned up in France."
"Yes, that could be a problem." Hood sipped his drink.
"I'm making it a priority," Lucas said. "I've seen the x-rays and translation. The word is spreading fast. If what's on that scroll is true, it could trigger a war over there. The Israelis, the Saudis and every cutthroat in the Middle East will be after that treasure. It's bound to lead to confrontations. We need to find out who took it. I have a lead but I need more information."
"You've identified who is behind it?" Hood asked.
"We traced the chemical signature of the Semtex used to blow up the train. It came from a lot that went missing during the Bosnian war. We tracked that to a black-market arms dealer in Lebanon. I think we should have a conversation with him."