Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt 21)

“One last thing. I want no cowardice over our objective.”

Zakkar smiled. “As long as it is in Israel, I do not care what or whom you destroy.”

He turned and opened the door. “Till Jerusalem. May Allah be with you.”

“And also with you,” Maria muttered, but the Arab had already slid down the corridor, the Janissary following close behind.

After the explosives were transported to the Arab’s truck, Maria sat down and studied the photograph of Jerusalem once more. From the antiquated cemetery, she eyed the glistening target positioned just up the hill.

We’ll shake up the world this time, she thought to herself, before carefully returning the photograph and charts to a locked cabinet.

42

RUDI GUNN PACED THE BRIDGE LIKE A NERVOUS CAT. Though the bump on his head had long since receded, a purple bruise still blemished his temple. Every few steps, he would stop and scan the weathered dock of Çanakkale for signs of relief. Finding none, he would shake his head and resume pacing.

“This is crazy. We’re on our third day of impoundment. When are we going to be released?”

Pitt looked up from the chart table, where he was studying a map of the Turkish coast with Captain Kenfield.

“Our consulate in Istanbul has assured me that our release is imminent. The necessary paperwork is

promised to be meandering through the local bureaucracy even as we speak.”

“The whole situation is outrageous,” Gunn complained. “We’re placed in lockdown while the killers of Tang and Iverson are allowed to slip free.”

Pitt couldn’t argue with him, but he did understand the dilemma. Long before the Aegean Explorer had contacted the Turkish Coast Guard, the marine authority had been alerted by two earlier radio calls. The first reported that the NUMA ship was illegally salvaging a historic Turkish shipwreck protected by the Cultural Ministry. The second call reported two divers killed during the salvage operation. The Turks refused to identify the source of the calls but rightfully acted on them in advance of the Aegean Explorer’s request.

Once the NUMA ship was escorted to the port city of Çanakkale and impounded, the case was turned over to the local police, further compounding the confusion. Pitt immediately phoned Dr. Ruppé in Istanbul to document their approved presence on the wreck site, then he phoned his wife, Loren. She quickly badgered the State Department to push for their immediate release even after the police had searched the ship and, finding no artifacts, slowly realized there was no basis for arrest.

Rod Zeibig ducked his head through the doorway and broke the air of exasperation.

“You guys got a minute?”

“Sure,” Gunn replied. “We’re just busy here pulling our hair out of our heads one strand at a time.”

Zeibig stepped in with a folder in his hand and headed to the chart table.

“Maybe this will perk you up. I’ve got some information on your stone monolith.”

“Apparently, it’s not mine anymore,” Gunn mused.

“Did you manage to remember your Latin inscription?” Pitt asked, sliding over to allow room for Gunn and Zeibig to sit down.

“Yes. I actually wrote it down right when we got back to the ship but put it aside during all the commotion. I finally examined it this morning and performed a formal translation.”

“Tell me it’s the gravestone of Alexander the Great,” Gunn said wishfully.

“That would be wrong on two accounts, I’m afraid. The stone tablet is not a grave marker per se but a memorial. And there’s no mention of Alexander.”

He opened the folder, revealing a handwritten page of Latin that he had jotted down after viewing the monolith. The next page contained a typewritten translation, which he handed to Gunn. He read it silently at first, then aloud.

“In Remembrance of Centurion Plautius.

Scholae Palatinae and loyal guardian of Helena.

Lost in battle at sea off this point.

Faith. Honor. Fidelity.