Indisputable Proof (12 page)

CHAPTER 19

September 11. Tuesday – 5:14 p.m. Northwest Coast of Costa Rica

Gordon Nunnery was not a killer by nature. He had been spurred on by mankind’s deepest, darkest desire. He had made the choice, carried it through, and was now engaged in a gunfight. Fortunately for him, he had a far better vantage point than the two hiding in the water behind the large, round rock on the backside of the blip of an island.

He repositioned his Browning Semi-Automatic Grade VI Blued rifle and tried to sight the targets. He had never been much of a hunter, and, although light and compact, the weapon felt awkward. The site was off, but he only found that out when he fired the first few shots as his targets hung from the cave ceiling.

Still, he had hit the lead man and dropped him into the water. Nunnery had wondered if he could kill a human being when it came time. Strangely, he felt unaffected.

The end justifies the means
, he thought.

The middle-aged man continued to monitor the stone, firing now and then. He was waiting for a head to poke out from the side so he could get a clean shot. He had been caught off guard when the black man suspended by one hand had returned fire, but the couple now hiding behind the large round stone seemed to be unarmed.

Nunnery sat on the stone floor, his legs drawn close to his chest at the water’s edge. He rested his elbows on his knees to support the rifle and steady his aim. Nunnery considered repositioning by moving around the perimeter walkway, but the couple would be expecting it, and they could easily avoid him by swiveling around the island, thus keeping the stone between their two positions. In this manner, they could continually evade him. Sure, he might get off a shot or two, but he had no desire to move, at least not yet. He felt comfortable here in the shadows after dousing the lantern. Once the tide crept up, they would be forced to make a move. He would simply wait them out.

He drew back from the rifle sight and scanned the still water. To the right, a lantern was lit on the walkway, illuminating the lavish, decorative paintings on the domed ceiling which reflected off the mirrored surface of the water. What a remarkable sight it was with its vibrant colors and artistry. This large chamber looked and smelled ancient. Surely this was a priceless discovery in its own right. He wondered how the three had ever found this place.

Just then, Nunnery caught a fleeting shadow out of the corner of his eye. He wheeled around, with his rifle at the ready. The formless figure came at him in an instant. Nunnery had no time to react. He inadvertently squeezed the trigger, firing a hapless shot into the stone wall. Then he felt a hard impact to his skull that he never saw coming. His vision blurred, and he was aware of the weapon being pulled from his hands after the fact. He let it slip from his grasp as easily as if he were offering it away.

Nunnery reeled against the stone wall. His vision cleared enough for him to make out the black man standing to the side. Water was dripping from his clothes. Surprisingly, the man was unarmed. Nunnery lurched toward him with his hands outstretched, but the man was lightning quick and defended himself by dodging to the side so that Nunnery completely missed and fell hard, his head impacting the stone surface near the edge of the ledge. Disoriented, he staggered to his feet, nearly toppling into the water. His head throbbed as if a freight train was tunneling through it. The black man stood quietly nearby, unmoving.

The world flickered and spun, then slowly settled into a static scene as he caught his balance. A gash on his forehead sent a warm flow of blood down his face, burning into his right eye. Nunnery knew he was defeated. He slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

There was a
tink
, and then something struck his leg. Startled, he shuffled backward, but the stone floor evaporated below his foot. He teetered and then plunged, staring upward at the maze of colors on the ceiling mural, as he struck the water. The colors danced, and the images faded in and out until they were swallowed up through his watery visage. Gordon Nunnery felt a tremendous grip of pain to his head just before his world fell into dark oblivion.

****

Surprised, Tolen looked to the stone floor at the object that had come to rest after striking the shooter’s leg. It was a long knife with a serrated blade. He turned and saw Pascal Diaz kneeling beside the stone island, half submerged. Tolen quickly moved to the edge and looked into the water. There was a commotion of activity several feet below the surface; the signature attack pattern of several large sharks wracking their heads back and forth. The man had gone under and disappeared into a carnal feeding frenzy.

The last thing Tolen had wanted was the attacker to be killed. They needed to question the man.

“Are you okay?!” Jade yelled, appearing beside Diaz.

Tolen was furious. They had just lost their only lead to the ‘True Sons of Light’ and to Boyd Ramsey. “Why did you throw a knife?!”

Diaz appeared baffled. “I…thought,” he hesitated, “you were fighting with him. The darkness makes it difficult to see what was happening. Is he dead?”

“Sharks got him,” Tolen said. He noticed a coat on the ground near the wall. He knelt down and grabbed it, trying to temper his anger. Inside, he found a wallet containing a Saskatchewan driver’s license with the name Gordon Nunnery. First an American had attacked them at Harvard, and now a Canadian had attacked them in Costa Rica. Tolen fanned through the rest of the man’s wallet. The only thing he found of interest was a receipt in German from a dry cleaner in Switzerland. Nothing suggested affiliation with a radical group.

Tolen rose and moved to the side where the rifle lay. He kicked a shell casing out of the way, picked the weapon up, and examined it from the stock to the end of the barrel. He checked the load: .22 caliber bullets.

It made no sense.

“I’ll be back,” Tolen said. He took the weapon and stepped through the aperture in the wall leading into the smaller cave. He slid underneath the low opening into the second, outer cave. He was anxious to know if anyone else had accompanied Mr. Nunnery. If so, they were most likely waiting in a boat nearby. When Tolen reached the entrance to Formacion Descartes Santa Elena, though, he saw their dinghy bounding on the choppy water nearby and their larger vessel beyond. No other vessels were in sight.

Tolen noticed a second rope tied off at the small rock formation where their dinghy was tethered. The rope was taut and pulled hard to the right, running along the stone to the side of the Formacion Descartes Santa Elena. He leaned out, following it with his eyes. A jet ski was nuzzled into the stone wall, scraping against the rock facing with each swell. The man had come by himself.

Tolen returned to the cathedral cave after tossing the rifle into the ocean water.

“Everything okay?” Diaz called.

“I’m coming over.”

Tolen had swum through the mix of hammerheads after feigning being shot and falling into the water. His knowledge of their aggressiveness, or lack thereof, toward humans had not been mistaken, and he passed through them without incident to the far side of the cave. By pressing into the wall and moving slowly, he had kept to the shadows and come up behind Gordon Nunnery so that he could take him alive.

The end result, though, was not what he had hoped for.

The subsequent shark attack on Nunnery had surprised Tolen. Something had contributed to their newfound aggressiveness. Now, looking into the black water, he saw there were considerably more bodies lurking below the surface than before, and their frenetic activity had increased. No longer were the large creatures moving lackadaisically; now they were slicing through the water, darting this way and that. Tolen caught an unwanted sight: the tail fin of a bull shark cutting across the top of the water…and then a second one. The smell of blood had brought more ferocious creatures into the mix. Bull sharks, noted for their unpredictable and aggressive behavior, are thought to have killed more humans than any other shark, including great whites. With the introduction of these man-eaters, the situation had indeed worsened and sealed Gordon Nunnery’s fate.

In order to rejoin Jade and Diaz, Tolen would have to make his way to the small island as they originally started: via the ceiling handholds.

Several minutes later, Tolen had traversed the wall and dome via the handhold path. The task got particularly tough when he arrived at the downward cone over the tiny island. He used the handholds to back down to the point and then drop the nine feet to the hard surface where he adeptly landed on his feet beside the large stone sphere. Using the rope Diaz had tossed on the dry surface, he pulled Jade and Diaz off the slippery, sloping sides and onto the island.

Tolen noticed Jade applying pressure to her forearm. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, “It’s a flesh wound…not deep. I’ve almost got the bleeding stopped.”

Tolen ripped off a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and tied it around the wound as a makeshift tourniquet.

He turned to Diaz. “Because of you, our only lead to the ‘True Sons of Light’ is dead,” Tolen said, staring the man squarely in the eyes. He was still irritated at Diaz’s carelessness at throwing a knife and causing Nunnery to slip into the water.

“I thought your life was in danger. Don’t bother thanking me,” Diaz swelled visibly with anger as he stepped toward Tolen, crowding in until they were nearly thumping chests.

Jade wedged between the two with her hands. “Enough testosterone.” She turned to Tolen. “Don’t blame him. I thought I saw a glint of metal as well. We thought he had a handgun. The light was dim, and I agreed with Diaz that he should throw the knife and try to distract him.”

The two men slowly separated, although they never broke eye contact.

“Who was he?” Diaz asked in an annoyed tone, rubbing a finger at the side of his nose.

“His name was Gordon Nunnery. Apparently, he was another recruit of the ‘True Sons of Light.’ He showed up exactly as we had hoped, but his timing was less than optimal.”

Tolen noticed Jade was already busy looking over the stone sphere. He turned away from Diaz and addressed her, “Is this one of the stone spheres from the Palmar Sur area?”

“It’s definitely manmade. I can see the chisel marks. My guess is
yes
.”

“Find any writing?” Diaz asked. “Maybe it has a cavity like that stone in the States.”

“We’ll know soon enough.” She continued to examine the stone intently using her water-resistant flashlight. Tolen and Diaz joined in, and all three studied the stone’s exterior for some time before Jade stepped back and exhaled in disappointment. “I don’t get it. Where is the clue? Where is Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb?”

Tolen considered the stone. One curious aspect of it was that it sat in what appeared to be a circular depression. This meant several feet of the stone lay in a recess, which made the underside impossible to examine. The reason it had been placed in the depression was obvious. The architects of this place had done so to hold the sphere in place.

Jade stepped beside Tolen, warily looking to the surface of the water only a few feet away. The smell of the saltwater was particularly strong. A dorsal fin split the surface nearby, turned sharply, and disappeared. “We need to check the underside. It’s all that’s left,” she said.

Tolen nodded. “Diaz, give me a hand. Let’s nudge this stone out of its mount. As soon as we do, we’ll have to get to the other side to stop it from rolling off this slope.”

Diaz joined Tolen to one side of the stone. Jade stood to the side. The two men placed their hands upon the curved surface and pushed in unison.

The sphere didn’t budge.

“Again,” Tolen said.

Both men heaved, and there was a slight give at the base as it rocked momentarily then settled back in place.

“One more time,” Tolen commanded.

“It’s too heavy,” Diaz said.

“Again,” Tolen said calmly. He closed his eyes, focusing his store of strength. “On the count of three.” Tolen counted off, and they pushed hard. Unexpectedly, Jade slipped between them and helped with a healthy shove to the stone. It was just enough extra force to cause the sphere to teeter and then break free from the depression, but before either man could regain his balance and move to the front side, the stone rolled off the small slope and into the water. They watched with chagrin as it continued rolling lazily down the side of the underwater mount, sinking deeper and deeper into the water until the top disappeared below the surface. It sent a wake rolling across the surface where it reached the perimeter ledge.

“Bloody hell! We’ll never see it now!” Jade yelled as the last air bubbles popped on the surface where it had submerged. A shark fin broke the water and cruised nearby. The desperation in Jade’s face caused her cheeks to flush.

While Jade and Diaz stared out at the water in disappointment, Tolen turned to where the stone had rested. He moved to the recess at the center of the small island. He stopped and looked down.
Of course
. He turned back to the others. “The stone wasn’t the clue.”

Jade and Diaz turned at the same time. Jade asked, “What do you mean?”

Where the sphere had been locked in place, the depression appeared bottomless. The massive stone had plugged a hole two-and-one-half feet in diameter. Tolen looked into the dark opening. Then he looked at Jade with a slight smile. “The stone was the doorway. There are stairs leading down.”

CHAPTER 20

September 11. Tuesday – 5:44 p.m. Northwest Coast of Costa Rica

With flashlight in hand, Jade lowered herself through the circular hole. There was a small stone platform four feet below the opening. One at a time, they dropped down to it. Tolen opted to go last, searching the shadows of the cave for movement to ensure they were alone. Just before he lowered himself, he happened to look at the water in relation to the small island. What was once an area nine feet across had compressed to roughly seven feet in diameter. The island had shrunk. Also, he noticed the circular hole was polished at the edges and beveled inward. A sticky substance, like sap, rimmed the edges.

Suddenly, the design of the tiny island with the stone sphere made sense.

He lowered himself through the hole. The steps were braced by the stone wall on the right. The left side of the staircase was open, and their flashlights revealed a small manmade room to that side with perfectly carved stone walls.

Once on the platform, they proceeded down the steps in single file, stooping to avoid hitting their heads on the ceiling until they were low enough to stand erect. A malodorous aroma thickened as they descended.

Only after they had reached the bottom of the sixteen-step staircase and looked about the enclosure with their flashlights did they discover a corridor leading from the room. Before going any further, Tolen looked at his watch with concern.

“What is the matter?” Diaz asked.

“The tide is rising. The stone sphere sealed this opening for two millennia, and now that we’ve uncorked the chamber, it will soon flood with seawater once the incoming tide rises over the island. There is no way to stop it. My best estimate is we have thirty minutes. If we stay down here any longer, we’ll drown in the incoming tidewater.”

“Then let’s get going,” Jade urged. “We have a tunnel to explore.”

Diaz was less than enthusiastic and stared at his watch.  Before he could object, Jade began moving away.

With their flashlights stabbing the darkness, Tolen and Diaz followed her down the narrow tunnel leading away from the entry room. The corridor was tight with a seven-foot ceiling. The passageway had been carved from the rock and the walls and ceiling were perfectly symmetrical. Tolen reached out and touched the surface of the side wall and found it coarse. There had been no attempt to smooth the walls here.

Tolen was amazed at the architectural prowess of whoever had designed this place. If the water above was naturally resident in the cave as they suspected, then how were the builders able to orchestrate this complex? The tides would have made it impossible. He realized his original assumption was incorrect. The only way to build this underground facility was to do so prior to water ever being allowed inside the cathedral cavern. He theorized the entire area was most likely constructed from a preexisting mount in the deep floor of the cave whose base was well below sea level. From the top, which was now the tiny humped island, the builders had most likely burrowed straight down, carving out the corridors and rooms. They could then have cut an opening in the side of the cathedral room somewhere near the base which allowed the seawater, and the sharks, inside. He marveled at the ingenuity and wondered if this had been Joseph of Arimathea’s creation or whether he was the benefactor of some native Costa Ricans’ ability. It was an answer he would probably never know.

The tunnel went on for some way. They reached an intersection where a perpendicular corridor cut across their path. Jade looked to Tolen silently as if to ask his opinion on which way to go. When he offered no suggestion, she turned right and led them down another straight hallway similar to the first. It was much shorter, and they soon reached a dead end. They retraced their steps, reached the intersection, and continued across. Again, they arrived at a wall which marked the end of the tunnel. They returned to the intersection, and continued up the original corridor.

Other than the manmade entry room with its stairs, and the corridors, they had seen nothing of archaeological significance: no artifacts, carvings, decorative nuances, or artwork; nothing to suggest these austere passageways held anything more than open space heavy with dust and stale air.

Tolen watched as Jade trained the flashlight beam ahead. Her pace had quickened. He could sense her anticipation. Truthfully, he had been experiencing the same swell of sanguinity, yet the farther they went, the less confident he became. It brought to mind the Egyptian Pharaohs and the preponderance of tomb raiders who had plundered and wrecked the lavish, treasure-filled crypts in the Valley of the Kings. It was hard to dismiss the possibility that, even if Joseph’s tomb had once been here, it had been robbed in antiquity. Chances were, they were hundreds, if not thousands, of years too late. It was a grim thought.

Ahead, Jade’s light struck a solid milky-white wall, darkened in green patches where lichen grew. They had reached the end of the corridor. Her body language said it all: shoulders slumped, gait slowed. By the time they neared it, Tolen thought she might collapse in frustration and disappointment. He felt a similar dampening of his spirits.

A fascinating if not odd irregularity in the corner of the wall became visible as they approached. On the left side, a squared area had been cut inward where the side wall would have normally joined with the rear wall. Tolen noticed a similar gaping groove on the right side in the wall. Both notches ran from floor to ceiling. There appeared to be enough room to squeeze inside between the rear wall and the side walls.

Jade turned to Tolen with renewed optimism. Diaz seemed restless.

“Pick a side,” Tolen encouraged.

Pausing only for a second to decide, Jade wedged herself in the slot on the left and momentarily pushed her head beyond the end of the wall and out of sight. She drew back with an elated smile. “We can get through. The corridor continues on the other side of this wall.”

She led them through. What they had thought was an end wall had turned out to be a simple partition. The corridor ran on in a straight line. Jade angled her light from the stone floor and into the distance. To her dismay, the corridor reached a doorway ahead which opened into a dark room.

Jade hurriedly led the small group forward, walking faster now. Tolen felt his own anticipation building again. Diaz lagged behind, mumbling his discord, harping about the lack of time left.

Jade pressed on, breaking into a trot. The corridor spilled into a spacious room with a pitched ceiling which slanted upward and away. The expansive area was as large as a small house with a floor of polished stone. One wall had a low stone bench carved into it. Other than that, the side walls were bare. The back wall contained an exquisite fresco of a lush, tropical landscape covering the entire surface. Tolen could make out the focal point of the painting: an oasis set atop a sandy hill accentuated with bright, dazzling colors which seemed wet from fresh paint, as if the artwork had been recently completed. The room was immaculately preserved.

“Oh my god,” Jade exclaimed. “Look at that stone. Do you know what that is?”

It took a moment for Tolen to realize where Jade was focused. At the base of the fresco, just right of the center of the wall, was a circular stone, the size and shape of a semi-truck tire. It was pressed flush against the wall. He had originally overlooked it, since it was camouflaged against the artwork, blending into the desert scene.

“What is it?” Diaz asked.

“It’s a Jewish rolling stone,” she said in awe, unblinking. Jade was too mesmerized to offer any further explanation.

Diaz turned to Tolen with an unspoken plea for clarification.

“It’s a disk-shaped stone that sealed Jewish tombs, carved from rock during the Second Temple period in Israel. The practice ended in the first century,” Tolen said. “Although most tombs to date have been found with square blocking stones, four burial caves in and around Jerusalem have been found with these round stones.”

“Is this the type of stone that sealed the tomb of Jesus?” Diaz asked. His voice took on a sudden air of respect.

“There’s considerable difference of opinion among biblical scholars. The Bible mentions a very large stone which took two or three men to move. In contrast, a single man could move a typical rolling stone. Consider Jade’s deciphered text that the Costa Rican spheres were created to pay homage to the stone that covered Jesus’ tomb. It therefore stands to reason the stone sealing Jesus’ tomb was completely round and considerably larger.”

Jade strolled forward, keeping her light fixed upon the stone. Tolen could almost see her mind poring over the possibilities.
The only reason to have a rolling stone slotted against the wall was to cover a low opening leading to a tomb: Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb.

Tolen and Diaz joined Jade at the stone. Together the threesome easily rolled it to the side. Sure enough, a circular hole penetrated the thick wall behind. A puff of stale air wafted out. Jade ignored it as she dropped down and quickly scurried through on her hands and knees, aiming her flashlight ahead.

As Tolen lowered and prepared to enter, they heard Jade’s muffled voice.

“Don’t come in,” she said. “It’s a small tunnel that dead ends. There’s…something ahead.” There was a pause. “Oh my God!”

“Are you okay?” Tolen called out. He could see the heels of her shoes ahead. She was moving awkwardly, wobbling from side to side, backing up. “I’ve found it!”

Seconds later, she trundled out, backing clear from the opening. She tugged at a square stone box which slid onto the smooth floor. Jade sat on the ground, breathing heavily, staring at the box. Sweat had beaded on her cheeks. “It’s his!” she intoned breathily. “See the inscription?” Jade pointed to the side of the box.

Tolen recognized the writing as Hebrew.

“Joseph of Arimathea,” Jade read it aloud. “My God, we did it!”

“It’s his ossuary,” Tolen said with understanding. Together he and Jade lifted the stone lid while Diaz looked on. The moment it was opened, a fetid smell rushed out. Diaz shined his flashlight inside.

Recognizing the contents, Diaz quickly crossed himself several times. “Madre de Dios,” he said softly in reverence.

Inside was a heap of blotchy brown bones; human bones of every ilk and shape. In one corner lay an intact skull with its empty, shadowed eye sockets staring at them.

“This is incredible,” Jade uttered breathlessly.

Tolen turned to Diaz. “It was an ancient Jewish custom to collect the bones of a corpse after it had lain on a stone bench for one year. Most likely, that stone bench,” Tolen said, pointing to the side wall where the low fixture had been cut. “The bones were then placed inside a box such as this, called an ossuary.”

Diaz gazed at the bones in the box and crossed himself yet again. “I know what an ossuary is, but this is unholy. We should not be disturbing this man’s remains.”

Jade looked at Tolen. He could read her eyes. As overwhelming as this find was, her unvoiced question loomed:
where was the stone jar that the clue from the Harvard sphere had referenced?

Tolen reached in the box and gently shuffled the bones around, searching to see if a small jar might be resting underneath. The bones were dry and splintered—a metacarpal here, an ulna there, a cracked tibia next to a broken femur. Pieces were piled deep. As he moved the brittle bones aside, he could not help feeling a sense of wonderment that he was touching the remains of Joseph of Arimathea.

It was not textbook archaeological protocol, and he knew it, but the tide was rising, and they were running out of time. He hesitated, then lifted the skull from the box and examined it closely.

I’m looking into the face of Joseph of Arimathea
, he thought.

Diaz backed away as if the skull were about to come to life and release a demonic force upon them. Tolen turned it toward Jade. Her expression was impossible to read. It was somewhere between archaeological exuberance and hallowed reverence. Tolen carefully placed the skull back inside the ossuary.

Diaz was pacing to the side. He was obviously uncomfortable with their situation.

“There’s nothing here,” Tolen finally said. He looked at his watch. “We don’t have long before this place begins to flood.”

“Then where is the stone jar? It’s got to be here somewhere.” There was desperation in Jade’s voice. They returned the lid to the ossuary and she rose, moving about the room. The only sound was Jade’s light footfalls as she stalked about like a lioness in distress. For a second, she stared at the wall-sized fresco then lowered her eyes in deep thought.

Suddenly, Tolen heard a faint, almost indistinguishable noise. It was constant, and both Jade and Diaz lifted their heads when they also heard it. It was coming from outside the room, somewhere up the corridor. He withdrew his pistol and silently motioned for each to turn off their flashlights. Pressing against the wall to the side of the doorway, Tolen spun and quickly shined his flashlight up the corridor, gun aimed at the light’s beam. Diaz had taken position behind him.

The corridor was empty. Tolen could see the partition wall they had circumvented. A gurgling sound was now audible. He lowered the beam and looked to the corridor floor where water was snaking lazily past either side of the partition wall and running toward them in lines like fingers stretching out.

The tide had already breached the tiny island above and water was entering the underground caverns.