The Stone of Secrets Page 9

The house was surprisingly mundane. One of the bedrooms had been converted into a personal gym. “Makes sense,” Damien thought.

  “Probably eats granola too,” Mert whispered. Sure enough, at that very moment Sebastian pulled a box of granola out of the cupboard in the kitchen.

  Another room contained only a folding table and chair. On the table was Emmett’s notebook computer. Lindsay sat down and switched it on but was unable to get past the lock screen without a password.

  Andrew found Emmett’s bedroom and opened the closet. There was nothing but dark suits and white shirts. “This guy desperately needs to branch out a bit,” he muttered.

  The team searched for a half hour but found absolutely nothing of interest. “This is the single most boring spy I have ever seen,” Mert quipped.

  “How many spies have you seen?” Lindsay asked sarcastically.

  “More than your IQ,” he shot back.

  None of them saw the two figures approaching the house in the dark. Emmett and Skye made their way around back and crouched outside the stone wall that surrounded the back yard. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Skye whispered.

  “Trust me,” Emmett replied, “this will leave a far more lasting impression than anything we could tell them.” He reached inside his satchel and handed Skye three small metal spheres. “Now,” he explained, “in a little while, every light in the house will come on, accompanied by a shrieking wail that will almost make their ears bleed. Every door will lock except that one right over there. As soon as the last person is out of the house, I want you to take one of these, pull this pin out and lob it just over the wall. They won’t be harmed, but they will think the world is coming to an end. Do the same thing with the other two and by then they should be long gone. I will position myself in those trees over there so we can hit them from both sides.”

  Skye thought Emmett was enjoying this a bit too much. “How many times have you done this?” she asked.

  “Just pull the pin and lob it over, Skye. You got this?”

  Skye nodded, and Emmett disappeared into the darkness.

  When Operation Armageddon began, both operatives executed their parts of the mission flawlessly. As the intruders crossed the yard three perfectly placed charges went off in sequence up each side of the group, completely disorienting them and causing sheer panic. Skye was amazed at how the flashes lit up the night, and how the sound echoed off the hillside a mile away. As the subjects barreled over the wall Emmett sprang up and lobbed a few more in the direction of their flight, just for good measure. Sheep in the valley were bleating for hours after the spectacle.

  Skye had never felt so alive. “You are a wicked man, Emmett Burke,” she said laughing uncontrollably, “a wicked, wicked man!”

  “I’ve been called worse,” he replied smiling.

  “I’ll bet you have.”

  The Next Day

  It was Saturday morning. Emmett came over for breakfast and treated Skye to his best omelet. When they finished eating, the others had still not emerged from their rooms. They retired to the sofas in the common area to wait for them. Emmett was anxious to break the news to the team before something else happened. They deserved to know.

  “You will be interested to know that I spent some time in the garage with the artifact last night after our little adventure,” Skye commented.

  “Really,” Emmett replied sitting up. “Did you find anything?”

  Skye leaned forward. “In order for the stone to be useful in deciphering Pictish, a parallel structure must be identified,” she explained. “Correlations must be postulated and tested…”

  “…against tertiary documents so you can determine this symbol means this and that symbol means that,” Emmett finished the thought.

  “Correct. You can translate symbols all day long, but if you plug your definitions into a tertiary document and it reads ‘I eat trees down monkey sun,’ you’ll be starting over.”

  “What did you find out?” Emmett pressed.

  “Well, nothing definitive yet,” she began, “but I do have some rudimentary meanings sketched out. It still has to undergo more testing.”

  “Skye that’s amazing,” Emmett said. “One evening with the Marnoch Stone and you’ve already begun to resurrect a dead language. The Rosetta Stone wasn’t deciphered for many years after it was discovered.”

  “This is going to give us so much knowledge of the Picts,” Skye added. “It is a tremendous thing…”

  Emmett was about to ask Skye to show him her work out in the shop when Mert came hobbling into the room. His eyes were barely opened and he didn’t even notice the two figures sitting on the sofa. He bumped into the wall and let out a groan as he made his way painfully into the kitchen for some ibuprofen. It had been a long night for him. The pair on the sofa looked at each other without speaking.

  Coming back from the kitchen, Mert finally noticed Skye and Emmett. They were staring at him wondering if he was okay. Suddenly he was awake as ever. “Oh hi,” he fumbled. “Um…how was the movie?”

  Glancing at Emmett, Skye was ready with the reply: “The plot was weak but the effects were over the top. Naturally, the open ending left room for another sequel,” It was a summary of the first online review she’d found in anticipation of the question.

  “And how was your evening?” Emmett asked. “How did your plans go?”

  “Huh?” he asked, taking a step back. “Oh, uh, they went okay. You know, we just kind of hung around the city. It was a typical night.”

  “That’s too bad,” Emmett replied. “I was hoping you would have been around here. Maybe you would have seen who broke into my house last night.”

  “You were broken into?” Mert stumbled incredulously. “Did they get anything?”

  “Nothing,” Emmett replied. “That’s what’s puzzling. Why would they break in and not take anything?”

  “Yeah that’s weird man,” Mert said. “You just have to wonder about people these days…”

  “Yes. People these days can be very strange,” Emmett agreed, searching Mert’s face. “It’s no matter though. The idiots left fingerprints everywhere. I’ll know who they were by the end of the day.”

  Suddenly tense, Mert excused himself to take a shower. Emmett stayed and talked with Skye about the stone for another half hour. Mert joined them again, dressed this time, as did the rest of the team one by one. They all seemed unusually frazzled this morning. Emmett took the opportunity to address them in the common area of the house:

  “Look everyone; I’m sorry I’ve been so evasive with you this summer. The fact is, I am an agent with the FBI and the secrecy was for a good reason. It was necessary to protect all of you from harm, and to preserve the integrity of the investigation. But now I need your help. We are investigating an organization called The Pact, and for some reason they are very interested in your dig.”

  “What?” Lindsay exclaimed in disbelief. “Why would criminals be interested in what we’re doing?”

  “I’m not sure,” Emmett replied, “but I think it may have something to do with what’s on that stone. Look, these people are very elusive. The FBI’s been tracking their activities for years but we’ve never been able to pin anything on them. We know they’ve got their hands in all kinds of shady deals but they cover their tracks very well.”

  “What do you need us for?” Damien asked.

  “First of all, I need a tight lid on this. No one is to discuss the work you are doing or the investigation outside of this room. If anyone asks what you’ve found just put them off. Tell them you’ve found nothing of interest. Any press inquiries are to be referred to me. Got it?”

  Everyone nodded. “Good,” Emmett continued. “In order to catch these guys we’re going to have to flush them out; get them to make a mistake. We know they want what’s on that stone, so that’s the bait. It’s under lock and key now, but they’ve got to make a move on it. When they do, we’ll be ready.”

  “How will we make sure th
ey try it?” Skye asked.

  “That’s what I need you for. You’re going to make a statement to the press about your research on the stone; something about how you’ve found some very interesting details, but without giving specifics. We’ll let them think we know something. Then, at night after the lights are out, all eyes will be on that garage. Seb and Andrew, I’ll post you two in the trees on the far edge of the property. Lindsay and the professor will watch from this house. Mert and Damien, you’ll be concealed inside my house. You know your way around my house, right Mert?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mert assured. Nervous glances went around the room. Lindsay gave Mert a look that said “He knows!”

  “Alright,” Emmett continued. “Once he’s cornered, things are likely to get dicey. I need everyone to take cover and watch each other’s backs when the bullets start to fly.”

  “Will you be alright?” Lindsay asked the man who saved her. Mert rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine,” Emmett replied. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. The main thing for you is to get behind something solid and stay there until the situation is secure.”

  Once Emmett laid out the plan with the team, they all went out to the garage to discuss the stone. As they surrounded the artifact, Skye brought everyone up to speed on what she had learned.

  “According to the few historical references relating to the Picts, their language was different from their contemporaries on the British Isles. English, Scots, Latin and British were also spoken on the island at that time,” Skye explained to the group, “but it is clear that Pictish was unique.”

  “It is different from Gael? I thought they were related somehow,” Emmett interrupted.

  The others in the room smirked at each other. They all knew from past experience in the lecture hall that if you were going to interrupt Professor McAlister, you’d better have your facts straight. Skye looked at him sternly over her glasses while answering his question.

  “Yes, it is indeed different from Gael. This is evident in Admonan’s Life of Columba, that when Columba visited the High King Brude on the River Ness, he needed a translator. He wouldn’t need one if he understood the language of the Picts, would he Mr. Burke?” She turned up her nose as if daring him to interrupt her once more. She looked every bit the professor with her hair tied up, glasses set gingerly on her nose and the stern look on her face. Emmett thought it was beyond sexy. He grinned.

  “Very well Professor,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “Continue with your book report.”

  Lindsay laughed out loud. She thought it amusing to watch the two interact this way, with the professor’s supreme intelligence vying against Emmett’s unfailing wit. Skye might have engaged in play with him another time, but at the moment she was unwilling to let Emmett derail her. She sighed and continued.

  “The strangest thing about the Pict language is that unlike most languages of the period, there are no written records. It was like the Picts preferred to live in obscurity and thus disappeared as such. Our generation is therefore left to decipher their language in one of three ways.” She extended a slim index finger to tick off the ways. “The first is place names in the region of the Picts that have been preserved through history; the second is the versions of Pictish names written by non-Picts who have had encounters with them. The last is through carved inscriptions on stones. This last method is by far the most reliable since it comes directly from the Picts themselves. The inscriptions are thus of great interest to any linguist, archaeologist or historian.”

  “Or a secret crime organization,” Emmett added, “but why?”

  Skye again looked over her glasses. “Ancient languages are my department, Mr. Burke. Secret crime organizations are yours.”

  Emmett looked down at the stone. More than ever he wanted to know more about this ancient language. “There’s got to be something we’re missing,” he said. “What does the Latin portion of the stone say?”

  “Well,” Skye began with a sigh, “this part up here is talking about the construction of the abbey, likely the structure at the dig site.” She read off the lines of Latin carved on the stone, followed by the translation:

  IN GRATIA DEI CONVERSATI SUMUS IN CHRISTI REGNO DIABOLI EVERTIT

  “In the grace of God, we have conversed with Christ who has overturned the kingdom of the devil.”

  OPUS CHRISTI FUNDATA EST ABBATIA PICTOS

  “The abbey was founded to perform the work of Christ among the Picts…”

  She continued:

  “…a noble race who must be reclaimed from the deception of paganism to serve the one true God. Erected 432 AD by Palladius a house of God, dedicated to the teaching of faith to the doubter, a refuge to the sojourner. Seek God and you will find Him.”

  Skye looked up from the stone. “It looks like Palladius may have used this stone as a sort of missionary tract in converting the Picts. It must have been very useful to him not only in teaching the Picts Christianity, but also Latin. It was probably standing right inside the abbey, perhaps built into the wall in a prominent location.”

  “Why did it end up in pieces buried in the yard?” Emmett asked.

  “The whole abbey is in pieces,” Andrew offered. “It was probably sacked by invaders at some point and dismantled in the conquest.”

  Skye opened a map of the site and spread it out over the stone. “Fragment one was discovered here,” she said pointing to a spot on the map. “Fragment two was here.” She looked around the room at everyone. “There are wall stones from the structure scattered all over that site, but they are all within inches of ground level. The Marnoch Stone is not only broken, but buried six feet down in separate locations.”

  “Sounds like someone didn’t want this stone found,” Mert suggested.

  “Professor,” Emmett asked, “does it look like they could have been buried recently; say within the last few decades?”

  “Not a chance,” Skye replied. “Stratigraphy puts them in those holes between eight hundred and a thousand years ago.”

  Nothing was adding up for Emmett. Why would someone a millennium ago want a religious document concealed, and why is a crime organization today interested in it?

  Unfortunately for Emmett, such questions would have to wait. Skye’s statement to the press had to be made soon. There was work to do.

  When Emmett and Skye left to arrange the press conference, the rest of the team talked in the commons.

  “I knew there was something fishy about that guy!” Mert said.

  Lindsay responded, “Yeah, and because of your idiotic suspicions, you’ve made the rest of us look like idiots too. Congratulations.”

  “At least I had a plan,” Mert defended.

  “You call that a plan?” Sebastian said. “I’d say breaking into an FBI agent’s house is more like a death wish. We’re lucky to not be in jail right now.”

  “Forget that,” Damien said. “Did you guys not just hear that we are now part of an FBI sting operation? Is that cool or what?”

  “Yeah,” Andrew added, “until we wind up dead.”

  “I don’t think Emmett will let that happen,” Lindsay said. “You heard him. He has some tricks up his sleeve.”

  “Yeah,” Mert said in a cutting tone. “I’ll bet you’d like to see more of his tricks.”

  “Jealousy does not become you, Mert,” Lindsay said. “Besides, I think Emmett has his hands full with the professor right now. Have you noticed the way he looks at her? She didn’t even seem surprised when he told us he was FBI. I wonder how long she’s known it.”

  “I wonder what else she knows,” Damien said. “They always seem to be together, don’t they?” Mert was not the only jealous one in the room.

  “Perhaps the professor has been in the loop all along…” Sebastian suggested.

  And so the rumor mill began to churn.

  The Federal Bureau of Investigation had been watching The Pact since the 1990s. Ted, an FBI tech guru was the
first to link a mysterious wave of espionage to an unknown organization. The net worth of The Pact has been estimated to be in the trillions. Insider trading and high corruption are its trademarks. But by the time governments, corporations and investors realize their money has been siphoned, The Pact is long gone. The FBI had employed every means possible to break up this crime ring to no avail. The Pact leaves no trace. To date, no one at the Bureau has been able to figure out how they keep their activities so secret. They seem to have no communication whatsoever. All intelligence on them has been acquired after the fact. By the time the authorities arrive, all data has been irretrievably wiped, and any facilities that needed to be destroyed by fire have been done so in a horrifically thorough manner. Anyone who knows too much winds up as a pile of ashes in the smoldering remains of a warehouse.

  It’s no wonder Emmett wanted to get a jump on The Pact. The director had put considerable pressure on Maddox to make headway in the investigation. And as Maddox had put so succinctly, the excrement always rolls downhill. With The Pact showing so much interest in this archaeological dig Emmett knew he could get them to make a mistake. He knew he could blow this case wide open.

  Skye made her statement to the press the following day, and it was a perfect lure for The Pact. Emmett was sure they would be coming for the stone that night, and he would be ready. He spent the afternoon preparing his archaeologist helpers for the sting. They assembled in Emmett’s living room.

  “How are we going to see him coming in the dark?” Damien asked. “The forecast calls for overcast skies covering the highlands tonight.” There would be no moon or stars visible through the night.

  “That actually gives us the advantage,” Emmett explained. A smile came over his face. “Allow me to introduce you to some of the fun little toys we get to play with in the FBI…”

  Each member of the team was issued night vision optics and the group was trained in their use. The team went into the darkest place in the house, the pantry, to test this equipment. The archaeologists were amazed at how clear vision was possible in the total darkness of the room with no windows.