A mental snapshot of her progress.
Right now it didn't look like much, nothing more than the outer shell of a document chamber. Simple in design, it was assembled out of local stones, carved by Muslim craftsmen, and then buried underground for protection. Just like folklore had said. Her team dug around four sides, exposing four walls that could be measured, photographed, and tested. The bottom remained rooted in soil, holding it in place. The top remained undisturbed since its accidental discovery by a construction worker. Preliminary research proved it was built in the seventh century, not ancient by biblical standards but the perfect age for what they were hoping to find.
Staring at it, memories of the initial phone call from Abdul-Khaliq came flooding back. His interest in her research. Questions about her training and background. And eventually, an invitation to join the dig. A week later she was flown halfway around the world to run a project in the heart of Islam, right down the road from its most holy shrine. It was the type of opportunity that all archaeologists dreamed of.
A chance to shatter myths or reaffirm history.
But she wouldn't know which until she looked inside.
The Qur'an is the central religious text of Islam. Muslims believe it is the literal word of God, revealed to Muhammad over the last twenty-three years of his life. Unlike Christians, who believe Jesus Christ is the Son of God, Muslims do not worship Muhammad as a deity; rather they honor him as their most important prophet, the man responsible for establishing Islam in its purest form.
According to Islamic scholars, Muhammad was born in Mecca in 570 AD. He was orphaned by age six and eventually lived with his uncle, Abu Talib, who was the leader of the Banu Hashim, one of the clans in the Quraish tribe. At the time, Mecca was a thriving economic center, partly because of the Kaaba, the great Islamic shrine that Muslims still worship, which attracted throngs of merchants during the pilgrimage season because violence between the various tribes was outlawed. Muhammad eventually became a merchant himself, traveling to Syria and other parts of the world, opening his eyes to many beliefs and cultures.
During his middle years, Muhammad often retreated to the peak of Jabal al-Nour near Mecca to fast and meditate. In 610 AD, while inside the Cave of Hira, he received his first revelation from God, delivered to him by the Archangel Gabriel. At first, most people were skeptical- including Muhammad himself-but when the revelations continued, he began to preach and eventually attracted a small band of followers that continued to grow until his death.
Despite his privileged upbringing, Muhammad never learned how to read or write; therefore it was incumbent on his companions to record his recitations, often on pieces of loose parchment or whatever materials they could find, including leafstalks of date palms and scapula bones.
Remarkably, during his lifetime, Muhammad's revelations were never bound into a single book.
The modern form of the Qur'an is widely attributed to Uthman ibn Affan, the third caliph of Islam, who formed a committee to compile a standard version of the holy book, based on all the teachings they could find. Upon its completion sometime around 650 AD, Uthman sent a copy to every Muslim city and town and ordered all other versions of the Qur'an destroyed, his way of guaranteeing a unified message.
Unfortunately, despite the claims of some, many modern-day historians doubt that any of Uthman's original copies have survived. Some feel the oldest existing Qur'an was written in the eighth century, nearly a hundred years after the Uthman version was distributed. Barely a blip on the radar screen in terms of human evolution, but a wide chasm in religious history. Obviously, many Islamic scholars have wondered what changes might have occurred during that century. Even the slightest alteration of syntax could have a profound effect on Muhammad's original message, thereby affecting an entire religion.
One of those scholars was Shari Shasmeen, who had spent many years searching for one of Uthman's Qur'ans, only to have her dream crushed at every turn. That is, until she received a phone call from Abdul-Khaliq, who implied that he might have found something better.
Something so astounding that it dwarfed what she had been looking for.
The guard made all of the arrangements on an encrypted cell phone. He spoke with his crew. He ordered equipment. He coordinated times and places. If this was going to work, there could be no mistakes. Nothing could be overlooked. Everything had to be perfect.
He glanced at his watch and noted the time.
Right on schedule.
Now all he had to figure out was what to do with that bitch archaeologist. She was going to be a problem-he could tell that already. The way she fought back when he tried to take her keys. The way she stared at him. Defiant. Unyielding. The exact opposite of what he expected from a Muslim woman. Weren't they supposed to bend to the authority of men?
In a perfect World, he would slit her throat and dump her in the same place they took Nasir. That would make things much easier, giving him all the time he needed to accomplish his mission. But her death would bring too many questions. Questions he didn't have time to answer. At least for now. In the near future that was bound to change, and the moment it did he would teach her a lesson about the power of man.
Until then, he would simply have to work around her.
22
Payne closed his eyes for just a moment. When he woke up, it was two hours later, and Kia was standing in front of him, quietly whispering his name. Her hair was done, her makeup perfect. A light floral scent filled the air. She wore a tight black sweater and even tighter jeans, which showed off her feminine figure, something Payne hadn't noticed until that very instant. Stylish black boots and simple earrings finished her outfit.
"Wow," he said, searching for adjectives. "You look great."
She beamed at the compliment. 'Thanks." He stared at her for a few more seconds, temporarily at a loss for words, a combination of grogginess and unexpected thoughts. "How long was I out?"
"Not as long as D.J. He's still sleeping in the other room." "That's because he's old and creaky. Not a world-class athlete like I am." Payne held out his hands for Kia to grab. "Now do me a favor and help me up."
She grunted as she pulled him to his feet, pretending it took all the strength she could muster. Despite her tall heels, she was still several inches shorter than he was. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm starving."
"In that case, why don't you get cleaned up and take me out to dinner?"
He laughed. "Wow, you're being kind of forward, aren't you?"
"Not really. You're the one taking me to dinner. So you 're the one who's out of line."
Payne smiled. "I guess I am."
"But don't worry, I'm not going to report you. I mean, you did save my life today."
Thirty minutes later they were walking into one of the restaurants at the Black Stone, where they were given a window seat that overlooked the Yellow Sea. Compliments of Mr. Lee. Payne was dressed comfortably in jeans and a dress shirt, not as formal as the other diners, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone was too busy eating and drinking, soaking in the atmosphere, to pay much attention to them. The entire dining room was bathed in candlelight and romance.
"Thank God we're alone," Payne joked as he helped her with her chair. "If D.J. was here, he'd probably get liquored up and try to kiss me."
"Please don't remind me. Been there, done that."
"That's right. I almost forgot about the kiss! That was, what? Almost two days ago?"
She did the math in her head. "Oh, wow. That seems so long ago. Two days doesn't seem possible. Two weeks, maybe. Not two days."
"Well, that's something you'll learn. Clocks tick at a different rate of speed in the field."
Kia paused while a busboy filled their glasses with water. "Speaking of the field, I'd like to officially apologize for my behavior. I shouldn't have wandered away from the cave without telling you where I was going. I put you in an awkward position, one where you had to swoop in and rescue me. I never should've let that happen."
"Don't worry about it. In fact, I should be thanking you for your efforts. There's no way we could've gotten Kim to talk without your help. He opened up because of you."
She smiled, appreciative of his praise.
"Of course, that being said, you might want to stay a little bit closer in the future."
Her smile grew wider. "Why do you think I'm here?"
It was a rhetorical question but a good question nonetheless. The truth was Payne didn't know why she was there. There had been some innocent flirting during the past hour, but up until then he had viewed Kia as a member of his squad. Nothing more. Now all of a sudden he was sitting across from her, staring at her in candlelight as waves crashed upon the rocky shore, romantic thoughts dancing through his head. He had never been put in this position before, working so closely with a beautiful woman. He wasn't sure where to draw the line.
Hell, he didn't even know if a line was necessary.
In reality, he was no longer in the military, meaning he was no longer bound by their strict rules and codes in regard to social interaction. Still, she viewed him as a superior; there was no doubt about that. However, he wasn't sure if that was even important on such a temporary assignment. For all he knew, their official mission-to rescue Schmidt and his men-was already over. So if something happened between them, was there really any harm?
To him, it was a question that needed to be answered before he'd let anything progress.
"You know," Kia said, breaking the silence, "this isn't my first trip to Jeju. When I was a young girl, my father brought me here to see the haenyo, the women divers of the island." She pointed out the window to the Yellow Sea, where three yachts, their lights twinkling against the horizon, floated on the rolling darkness. "To watch them work was amazing. Most of them were in their forties or fifties, but some were in their sixties or seventies. They'd tie rocks to their belts and jump into the deep water, sometimes sinking more than twenty meters down to the ocean floor, where they'd collect abalone and sea urchins and a variety of other treasures. They'd stay down there for several minutes, longer than I thought was possible to hold one's breath, before they'd untie the rocks and swim back to the surface with baskets full of goods."
She took a sip of water before continuing. "For some reason it's taboo on the island for men to do any diving. No one's really sure why. Some say it's because women have more fat on their bodies, which allows them to endure the cold waters of the deep. Others say it's because women are more buoyant, allowing them to swim to the surface faster after filling their baskets. But whatever the reason, they're some of the best divers in the world. Male or female."