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Authors: Julian Noyce

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BOOK: The Spear of Destiny
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  “Yes Sir. And them?” Petrov asked, nodding towards the ambulance crew. Von Werner looked at them both. They were on their knees in the road, their hands on top of their heads, guns still trained on them. They were clearly petrified. Von Werner considered killing them.

  “They were only doing their job. Let them go.”

  “Yes sir,” Petrov made a motion with his hand and the guns were withdrawn. The two ambulance men got to their feet, mumbled their thanks and fled into the night.

  Von Werner watched as his men set explosives on the remaining jeep and the ambulance.

  “There’s another prisoner here sir. Shall I let him go?”

  “Why hasn’t he escaped already?” Petrov asked.

  “He’s chained to the floor.”

Petrov looked at Von Werner who shrugged and headed for the first Black hawk. The prisoner began screaming and frantically pulling at his chains as the last of the men got into the helicopters and they lifted off and headed North for the Meditterranean. Von Werner looked back at the huge fireball that lit up the night sky when the vehicles exploded.

 

Major Al-assad surveyed the carnage on the mountain road. His special forces team were scouring the debris for clues. Of the police cars and ambulance there was nothing left. They were completely burned out. Just skeletons and ash remained. The jeeps, one on its roof, were twisted hunks of metal. In the lead one were the charred remains of a human still chained to the floor. A forensics expert examining the remains. The teeth on the corpse were completely bared.

  “As quickly as you can with those results,” Al-assad said to the forensics team working on the corpse. They were scanning their samples into a laptop.

  “Yes sir. Do you want DNA scans on all casualties?”

  “No. Not necessary. Our man was heavily scarred on the face and hands. None of the other dead match those injuries.”

  A lieutenant approached Al-assad.

  “Sir we’ve got another body. This one was in the back of the ambulance.“

  “The condition of the body?”

  “Beyond recognition sir. He’s also been shot in the head. We did find a standard issue police handgun.”

  “And the ambulance crew?”

  “Unnaccounted for.”

  “Is it possible they were completely incinerated?”

  “Possible but unlikely. My guess is they escaped or were taken hostage.”

  “Why take the ambulance crew hostage and not the policeman. He would be worth more as a ransom.” 

  “Because he was armed. Maybe he pulled his gun on them. That was probably the reason for killing him.”

  “Maybe. Well whatever happened here we need to find the ambulance crew and where the ambulance came from. I want names, addresses. Find them.”

  “Yes sir.”

A forensics expert got Al-assad’s attention. Al-assad looked at the laptop screen.

  “None of the DNA samples match Von Werner.”

Al-assad looked at the neatly lined up dead. A team nearby examining bullet casings.

  “How sure are you?”

  “One hundred per cent.”

Al-assad’s lieutenant came running up holding a field telephone. Al-assad frowned.

  “It’s the General sir.”

Al-assad reluctantly took the handheld.

  “General Al-din. It’s bad news sir. We’ve lost him. You might want to tell

the Americans.”

 

                                   CHAPTER TWO

 

LONDON, ENGLAND

 

Peter Dennis poured himself another cocktail while trying not to spill any. He was leaning forward in the limousine to make sure he didn’t splash any of the red liquid onto his white shirt.

  “Would you like one?” he asked the girl opposite.

Marine archaeologist Natalie Feltham shook her head while holding her flute up.

  “No thanks. I’ve still got most of my champagne left and you’d better not have too many of those in quick succession. I don’t want you slurring your speech all night.”

  “Hey that’s what Limo’s are about. Drinking in the back of them. It was good of Jim to put it on for us.”

  “He wanted us to arrive in style.”

  “That we’ll do. You look sensational tonight.”

  “Oh thanks and I don’t usually. Is that what you mean.”

  “What! Of course you do. You always do,” Dennis replied eyeing up a shapely ankle, “That dress was a good idea. It is stunning.”

  Natalie was wearing a long, ankle length, sleeveless, black dress, with a long split down each thigh. The neck of the dress was gold. She was also wearing gold, strap heels. Her long blonde hair was held high on her head with pins. Two long strands of hair hung down, prettily, either side of her face.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself but your bow tie is a little crooked.”

He leaned in to her.

  “Straighten it for me.”

While she did he sneaked a quick kiss.

  “Oi! Cheeky! You’ll smudge my make up.”

Then she laughed.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got my lipstick on your lips. Come here.”

She wiped it off then became serious.

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too,” he replied, “And I love this car. Fancy a quickie?”

  “What? No! The driver might see.”

Dennis shrugged.

  “And besides there’s not enough time. Kinky bugger.”

Dennis smiled.

  “There’s plenty of room.”

The car turned a corner and Natalie saw the British museum ahead.

  “Too late. I think we’re here,” she said as the car passed under a huge banner and stopped at the bottom of the steps. The door was opened and Natalie and Peter put their drinks down and she stepped out first, onto the red carpet and into a sea of press photographers and flash photography. Dennis stepped out and the chauffeur wished him  a good evening, closed the door, got back into the driver’s seat and moved off slowly past a television camera getting ready to start shooting. In front of the camera a beautiful reporter with Asian features.

  “Three. Two. One. Go,” the cameraman clicked his fingers at the reporter.

  “Good evening and a very warm welcome from the British museum in London on this the opening night of the exhibition of what is perhaps the most important exhibit in the christian world, the ‘Holy lance’ sometimes referred to as the ‘spear of destiny’ the mysterious Roman spear that supposedly pierced the side of Jesus Christ while he lay on the cross. I’m Kim Nguyen reporting from a star studded occasion where the world of archaeology meets those of politics, film and stage as a host of stars pay tribute to this, the first exhibit of it’s kind here at this magnificent building for many years. The museum was founded by Sir Hans Sloane in 1753 who exhibited his own collections, a museum which currently holds the Elgin marbles and the controversial Rosetta stone, requested by Egypt for its return to its rightful country. Never before has an exhibit such as this, the ’holy lance’ graced this the most famous museum in the world. On loan from its home in the Schatzkammer, Vienna, Austria the spear was once in the hands of Holy Roman emperors, Adolf Hitler and the American General George Patton. One of the world’s truly great treasures it will be here on display for the next two months….” she glanced sideways and caught sight of  Natalie and Dennis as they made their way along the red carpet towards the foot of the steps. Dennis was admiring the six huge Roman fire baskets on stands blazing, merrily away, twenty feet high across the front of the museum at the top of the steps at the entrance. The excitement in Nguyen’s voice quickened.

  “Here come the renowned journalist Peter Dennis and the very beautiful marine archaeologist Natalie Feltham, hitting the headlines earlier in the summer, for the failed search for Alexander the great’s sarcophagus. Natalie, Peter can I get a word,” Nguyen called as they got to her.

  Dennis smiled into the news camera.

  “Can I ask you about your involvement tonight?”

  “Hi Kim. Yes it’s a truly great turnout tonight for the exhibition.”

Dennis stopped to put his hand up to a group of journalists he recognised.

  “Now Mr Dennis you wrote an article on the spear,” Nguyen said, holding up a copy of ‘the country’ magazine’s latest issue. A photograph of the Holy lance on its cover, “How convinced are you that this may be the spear which pierced Christ’s side, that it has magical powers?”

  “I think the magic, Kim, is in what people believe. It has brought so many here tonight. The exhibition will be sold out every day and night for two months. That’s the magic it holds.”

  “Some say that the lance doesn’t resemble a Roman spear at all. That’s it’s quite possibly a hoax.”

  “Well if it is a hoax we’ll have enough experts here tonight to prove it, one way or the other.”

  “That wasn’t really an answer.”

  “Look Kim. It’s been added to over the millenia. The Roman soldier Maurice lived four hundred years after the crucifixion when he carried it into battle. It contains a Roman nail from Christ’s cross for goodness sake. What more proof do you want.”  

  “I have all the proof I need Peter. Here in this beautiful article you’ve written,” Nguyen said holding up the magazine again, “And speaking of beautiful, I must say Natalie you are looking exceptionally stunning tonight. Tell me what’s it like to be with the most handsome, eligible, bachelor in journalism.”

  Natalie leaned in to the microphone.

  “It’s an adventure Kim.”

Nguyen smiled as the couple moved on down the line of photographers and reporters. 

  “There you have it,” she said into the camera, “Hoax or not. It will be hard to convince this couple. Just three months ago they were involved in a kidnap plot when their search for Alexander’s sarcophagus ended also in a hoax. The sarcophagus never found, waiting perhaps to be discovered as the ‘spear of destiny’ once was.”

  “I take it you know her,” Natalie said looking back at Nguyen who was staring after them, microphone held nonchalantly across her chest away from her mouth, one eyebrow raised back at Natalie.

  “Yes.”

  “How well?”

Dennis too looked back at the television reporter who was smirking at him.

  “I used to date her. Hey look it‘s the Mayor of London and his wife.”

Natalie stared after him as he continued down the line of extended cameras and microphones. 

 

Inside the museum waiters dressed as Roman legionaries were moving amongst the milling crowds with trays of champagne and vol-au-vents. Dennis looked up at the impressive tessellated glass roof of the great court.

  “What an amazing building.”

Natalie nodded. In the centre of the floor space was an area roped off. Men in dark glasses and suits patrolled nearby. Security for such an important night.

  Dennis grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and a handful of vol-au-vents. The look from Natalie suggested she wasn’t impressed. He stuffed one of the small pastries into his mouth.

  “Hm! Prawn.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Soaking up the alcohol a bit.”

  “I told you not to drink too much on an empty stomach. You know you can’t handle it.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll make this my last glass until the speeches are finished.”

  “Well they’re about to start,” Natalie said as the select few press photographers rushed forward as Sir Nigel Phillips, director of the museum, took to the lecturn. He adjusted the microphone to his mouth and as everyone turned to face him all conversation stopped. The only sounds now were the whirring and clicking of cameras.

  “Mr Mayor, ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests, esteemed members of the press, may I extend to you a very warm welcome from the Great court of the British museum on this the opening night of ’The Spear of Destiny’ exhibition.”

  The blue cloak covering the glass case with the spear inside was pulled down rapidly to reveal the Spear for the first time. There was a burst of flash photography as a generous round of applause erupted from the hundreds of guests.

  “Well there it is,” Dennis said craning his neck.

Natalie turned to him as he continued looking over the heads of people in front.

  “You mean you’ve never seen it?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve written an article on it.”

  “The power of the internet babe.”

Natalie smiled as she shook her head.

  “You are such a cheapskate….” she stopped as they received dirty looks from people nearby.

  “And now ladies and gentlemen if I could direct your attention to the large flat screen televisions around us,” Phillips said, extending his hand towards one of many large televisions suspended from the ceiling.

  “Wow! Dennis said, “Now that is a tv. Must be a fifty five inch screen.”

The lights were dimmed in the great court as the screen came to life. Clever lighting around the court brought in set the mood with changing colour sequences.

  The screen was dark and then the spear of destiny appeared as the narration began. Everyone watched the seven minute video in silence and as the lights came on the screen went dark.

  Another round of applause and then Phillips spoke again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, myself, the vice director and everyone involved with the museum would like to thank the Austrian ambassador and his staff and the Austrian government for their generosity in lending us, this, one of the most Holy relics in the world. Mr ambassador thank you,” Phillips led the round of applause, “And now,” Phillips raised his glass of champagne to the crowd, “Enjoy the party.”

  Phillips shook hands with the Austrian ambassador and began greeting his guests.

  “I thought the video was rubbish,” Dennis said.

  A partygoer nearby turned to him.

  “You have a better version?”

  “I do.”

  “And you are?”

  “Peter Dennis, journalist, I wrote an article on the lance.”

  “I see and that makes you an expert.”

  “I’d like to think I know a bit on the subject.”

  “So do I. I’m the actor who narrated the short documentary.”

Dennis cringed.

  “If I’ve offended you I’m sorry.” 

  “I’d like to hear your version,” the man’s wife said.

BOOK: The Spear of Destiny
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