Garrett is disturbed, power mad, that he will betray me somehow. Therefore, I have hidden this document for you to find. The scroll is the only known copy of The Book of the Cave of Treasures.
I unearthed the scroll during a dig in northern Iraq. I chose not to release the contents to the media in the hopes that I could find the Ark myself. However, I ran short of funds, and through my old friend, Sam Watson, I fell in with a new benefactor, Garrett. He has seen the Book, but I am the only one who can decipher it. I felt the need to hide it when I found out he was searching for other translators.
You can be one of those translators. If you read it carefully, it will lead you to Noah’s famed vessel, and the scourge that it still holds within its bowels. Garrett has come to suspect that I am withholding information from him. His trust is shallow and limited. The locket was the only way I could spirit my message out to you. I hoped that sending it to you as a birthday present would free it from suspicion.
If you are reading this, you must have already outwitted Garrett to some degree. But be careful. I fear he may take extreme measures if he knows you have these documents.
I hope you elect to complete the work that I could not finish and unveil Noah’s Ark to the world. If you take on the quest, I wish you good hunting. Whatever you decide, know that your mother and I love you always.
Hasad Arvadi
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Dilara asked. Her pain was palpable.
“We don’t know that,” Locke said, but he didn’t really believe it.
“No, he is. I know it.”
He put his hand on hers. “I’m so sorry, Dilara. I promise you we will find out what happened to your father.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
He let her weep quietly. After a few minutes, she took her hand away to use a tissue and said, “My father wanted me to find the Ark, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Your father’s note says that the ‘scourge’ is still in the Ark’s bowels,” he said. “That confirms what Garrett told you. That a relic with the prion disease — Arkon — is still in Noah’s Ark.”
“But Garrett told me that he never got to the Ark. If he didn’t get
“We’ll have to ask him. Maybe use his own truth serum. In the meantime, what’s our next step?”
“
His father’s words echoed in Locke’s ears. “I need to make sure the last of the Arkon is destroyed.”
“I’ll take the scroll back to my laboratory at UCLA and analyze it there. We have a controlled environment for examining ancient documents, and this one looks at least 3000 years old. It’ll be extremely fragile.”
“Who else will be involved?”
“No one. If it looks like the scroll really leads to Noah’s Ark, then I don’t want there to be a stampede to the site. I know you’re worried about the Arkon getting loose again, but I’m worried about the potential historical loss as well. Priceless artifacts could be looted, trampled, or destroyed.”
“It’ll be quite a find for you. It’ll change your life.”
“And yours, too.”
“No, I’m an engineer, not an archaeologist. I’ll leave the glamour stuff up to you.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence, each of them mulling the implications of such a find.
When they reached Locke’s house and went inside, Dilara carefully replaced the curled note back into the tube with the scroll and sealed it. She sighed heavily.
“He’d be very proud of you.” His words brought on the opposite effect from the one he intended. Dilara burst into tears.
“I’m such an idiot,” she sobbed. “All those years, I thought he was crazy, and he was right all along. Now he’s dead, and I’ll never be able to tell him how proud I am of him.”
Locke pulled her to him and cradled her head in his shoulder. “He knows. He knows.”
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She had never looked more beautiful or vulnerable, nestled in his arms. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, tasting the salty skin.
Dilara exhaled a breathier sigh and turned her face to him. Their eyes met. The day’s pent up tension flooded out of them, and they kissed deeply, as if they had fit together this way forever. Locke felt her entire body press against him, and he responded in kind.
“Shower?” she breathed into his ear.
Only then did he notice that they were both sticky with sweat and dirt.
He nodded and kissed her again. His need for her was almost unbearable. He felt like a randy teenager again.
They shuffled toward the bathroom, locked in an embrace as they maneuvered down the hall. They took turns unbuttoning and unlacing each other, tossing clothes and shoes as they went until there was nothing left to toss.
They staggered into the bathroom, their bodies still entwined, and Locke blindly fumbled with the shower control. Dilara pulled his hand away from it with an urgency that he completely understood.
“Later,” she said and dragged him to the carpet.
The shower would have to wait.
The next morning, Locke woke before he was ready. The light streaming through the window because, in his hurry to get into bed, he had neglected to close the blinds. He had the unfamiliar feeling of warmth next to him. Dilara was curled up next to him, her smooth naked body snug against his, her face resting on his chest, her breath puffing lightly on his skin. The smell of shampoo wafted from her hair draped over the pillow. The effect was intoxicating, and Locke smiled to himself at the memory of the bathroom floor, the long lazy shower that followed, and then the epic love-making session on the sheets that now swaddled them.
Intruding into all of these pleasant sensations was the shrill sound of his phone ringing. He grudgingly extricated himself from Dilara and picked it up.
“Whoever this is,” Locke said groggily, “your next words better be, ‘Congratulations Powerball winner.’”
“Prepare to be disappointed,” Grant said.
“Okay. What time is it?”
“Eight AM. I’d rather not be up either, but we have a big problem.”
Grant’s tone of voice got Locke’s attention, and he sat up.
“What happened?”
“The Army finally got into that chamber that Garrett, Cutter, and the others retreated into.”
“You caught him?”
“I wish. It wasn’t a panic room like we thought. It had a hidden corridor. It led to a subterranean submarine pen, big enough to dock a small sub like the one from Garrett’s yacht.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Locke said.
“It kills me to say it,” Grant replied, “but Garrett and Cutter got away.”
Noah’s Ark
FIFTY-EIGHT
As he boarded his refueled Lear jet at Heathrow Airport in London, Sebastian Garrett had new appreciation for Cutter’s insistence on backup plans. The original specifications for Oasis had nothing about a submarine docking facility, but Cutter hadn’t liked the idea of being trapped within Oasis by the concrete barriers. When they had switched the contract from Gordian to Coleman, Cutter had convinced Garrett to add the new requirement for the
