Luca considered the deal a bargain, but was strangely unenthusiastic about the prospect of getting the Scroll back. Now that Cross had solved the riddle, the relic had little but internal symbolic significance. Still, it was a win for the good guys, and he’d take it.
Cross hadn’t told him anything about where they were going. Luca was hoping to discover more at their next meeting. When and where that would be was still unknown, but he figured that he’d soon find out.
A few minutes after sending the message, a chime sounded from his computer, signaling an inbound message. He opened it and read the instructions, nodding as he did so. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.
Steven took the seat next to Luca on the short train ride from Milan to Parma, and wordlessly handed him the box with the Scroll container in it. Luca took it with a sense of disbelief — Cross had used a wine gift box, which was the perfect size, purchased in the morning at a liquor store in Milan, making it untraceable to Venice.
Luca had flown into Milan and they’d repeated the last minute phone call with instructions. Moody had explained to Steven that the method assured them of minimal chance of being tracked, which Steven wasn’t hugely worried about, but Moody felt was still a risk. Moody had watched Luca at the airport to ensure there were no phone calls or any suspect contacts attempted, and then monitored him as he took a taxi, watching for a tail. Luca was clean. After ten minutes of waiting at the airport, he’d hopped into a cab and gone to the train station to do the reverse process there, just in case.
Steven was dressed like a businessman this time, wearing a blue dress jacket with a red tie over a blue and white pin-striped Oxford shirt, and gray slacks with a burgundy belt and loafers. There was also something different about his hair — it was slicked back with gel, in the Italian fashion.
Luca took the box from him. “This is what all the fuss was about?”
“Yes. Don’t drop it. And keep it somewhere safer this time.”
“Noted. We transferred the cash this morning.”
“Congratulations on your purchase of the company. It runs itself. You won’t have to do much. Although we might have a leak there — I’ve been mulling over how Frank’s people knew we were at the Basilica of Saint Clemente, and the only thing that makes sense is they were given the translation of the first parchment.” Steven proceeded to tell him about the two parchments, deliberately omitting the tablet. Why give up the secret sauce that made him look like a once-a-millennium genius?
Luca listened with interest and nodded. “Makes sense. So. Now you have the money and the letters…where do we go from here?” Luca asked.
Steven broke down the various items they would need in order to search for the Light.
“Do you mind if I write this down? It’s a lot of detail,” Luca said.
“Don’t bother. Inside the box, next to the Scroll cylinder, you’ll find a piece of paper with the requirements. Basically, permission from the Jordanian government to do some archeological exploration, a list of gear, ten or twelve men to dig, and a way in and out. I was thinking that we should fly into Amman. We’ll probably be in Jordan for at least a week or two. The Scroll directions are detailed, but it will still be something of a miracle if we find anything. It’s been at least eight hundred years and possibly longer than that, depending upon what we’re looking for. I wouldn’t expect a lot, but we’ll give it our best shot. Oh, and we’ll need some weapons. It also might be good if the diggers had military backgrounds,” Steven said.
“I’m thinking of some of the Templars who are particularly suited. They receive much unorthodox training, including all types of weapons. They’re among the best and very fit,” Luca said, unconsciously putting a hand on his stomach.
“I’m also going to bring an observer with us on my team, which will consist of the girl, myself, and my friend. He’s in the intelligence field, which could come in handy if we get into a bind in-country. From your side, I want you and the diggers. Nobody else.”
“I understand. But I do have a highly-placed colleague who is ex-Mossad, and knows the region intimately…” Luca started.
“Absolutely not. Israeli intelligence would be the last thing we’d want, whether ex or current. The Jordanians are going to be skittish enough without bringing that into the mix. Another thing, I don’t want anyone to know where we’re going other than essential personnel. Limit it to need to know,” Steven warned.
“Fine. What else? Timing?”
“That’s up to you, and how fast you can get permission from Jordan. I can be ready to roll in a day. Start pulling strings. Speaking of which, pull some with the Roman police department and get them to back off on hunting for me and the girl. We don’t know anything about the driver’s murder, except what they do, so it would be helpful if that went to the back burner,” Steven said.
“I’ll see to it.”
“Please do. Now it’s phone time again.” Steven gestured with his fingers, and Luca obligingly took out the battery and handed it to him.
“Can’t you just leave it in the bathroom or something? Finding a battery is a pain,” Luca groused.
“That’s the whole point. If it’s any consolation, I actually trust you. It’s my intelligence friend who stipulated this routine, with no variation.”
“Very well. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon. I gather we communicate as we have, via e-mail?” Luca asked.
“Yes. I’ll call your cell if there are any emergencies. Have a safe trip back to Rome and remember not to drop the box,” Steven said, as he rose to make his way out of the first-class car.
Luca stared at the nondescript cardboard sheath and opened the top. Inside was the item, so sacred he’d never actually seen it. An ancient cylinder with a host of symbols etched into it. Not much to look at.
Strange that such a seemingly insignificant relic could cause so much commotion. He wondered what the Divine Light would turn out to be. Assuming they found it.
Which, after talking to Steven, wasn’t a given by any means.
CHAPTER 34
Heat waves shimmered off the tarmac as the private Hawker executive jet set down on the runway of the Queen Alia airport in Amman, Jordan, its wheels smoking as they struck the scorching surface with a series of screeches. The summer temperatures were just beginning to hit the mid-nineties during the day, and temperatures could easily climb into the triple digits nearer the desert. Fortunately, the dust clouds from the freak winds, the notorious khamsins, had settled over the last few hours, and the flight arrived on time.
Steven and Natalie deplaned along with Luca, trailed by two Templars that Luca had selected for the detail. Both were in their late twenties and had seriously athletic bearings. The most obviously out-of-place member of the group was Luca, who was the oldest and also the least agile.
Natalie powered on her phone and made a quick call as they moved to customs, where the group was passed through as a formality. Luca had worked his magic, and they were welcomed as dignitaries in Jordan — a key archeological team associated with the Church, which had just made several lavish donations to some of the King’s favorite charities. Their luggage trundled in a cart towards the charter lounge baggage claim, and within several minutes they were outside in the arid day, watching for their ride to appear.
A passenger van pulled to the curb followed by a Ford Expedition. The driver of the van got out, rounding the hood to greet Natalie with a hug before shaking hands with Steven.