Catacombs
Yesilkoy District
Istanbul, Turkey
17 March 2010
‘Please, Professor Lourds, don’t be afraid.’
After what he had been through since arriving in Istanbul, Lourds couldn’t believe anyone would actually say that. The echo of Cleena’s shot still rang through the large chamber. Now his imagination was in overdrive as he confronted the cowled man.
Many of the documents Lourds had translated over the years involved myths and legends of monsters in places like the catacombs under Istanbul. In fact, some of the work he had done involved stories of horrors during the Ottoman invasion and the fall of Constantinople.
Lourds was prepared to fight for his life, but then something happened that he didn’t expect. The man holding him spoke the same plea – except this time he spoke in Ancient Greek. The dialect was a little off, but it was easy to distinguish the root.
‘What did you say?’ Lourds asked in that same language.
‘My friends and I are here to help you,’ the man said. ‘We have been looking for you since you disappeared this morning. I apologize that it has taken so long to locate you.’
‘Who are you?’
‘For now all that I can tell you is that we’re friends. We’re here to get you out of this place. Please instruct the woman to stop fighting.’
Lourds was suddenly aware that Cleena was still battling against at least one and possibly two men. He turned to her but could not see her in the darkness.
‘Stop shooting,’ he said. ‘These are friends.’
She stopped fighting and leaned into him. Tension tightened her body like a bow string.
‘How do you know they’re friends?’ she demanded.
‘One of them just told me so.’
Derision dripped from her. ‘How have you managed to stay alive for so long?’
‘I happen to believe him,’ Lourds said defensively. ‘He spoke to me in Ancient Greek.’
‘Now there’s a reason to trust someone.’
‘He says he and his friends can get us out of here. Interested now?’
‘We’re doing fine on our own.’
‘Qayin has reinforcements coming,’ the man beside Lourds said.
‘You’re just saying that.’
‘Actually, we followed them in here.’
‘Then where are they? You could be making that up.’
Lourds wasn’t inclined to be so sceptical, but before he could say anything to that effect, the noise of people trying to move quietly at the other end of the catacombs reached them. As he was about to ask if anyone else had heard the noise, someone from that end of the catacombs opened fire.
Acting quickly, Lourds dropped to the ground. Cleena did the same. They were face to face in the darkness, their features intermittently lit by muzzle flashes as bullets crunched against the pillar overhead.
‘Convinced?’ Lourds asked dryly.
She made no reply.
‘Professor Lourds?’ the robed man asked Lourds.
‘We’re coming, but they have us boxed at both ends.’
‘There is another way out. Follow me.’
Running footsteps echoed through the catacombs. Cleena rose briefly to her knees, held her pistol, and fired. Lourds didn’t wait to see the results of her handiwork. He had seen how devastating she could be with her weapon. The mortal screams behind him let him know she had been just as accurate again.
Rising to his feet, Lourds remained crouched as he followed the robed man through the darkness. Several of their opponents turned their lanterns in their direction. The bright lights spilled across Lourds just as he saw a narrow opening in the wall ahead of him.
He followed the man through the opening and into a tunnel. Cleena was on their heels, closely trailed by two more men in robes. Once they were inside, one of the men shoved a recessed section of the wall into place and sealed the opening. One of the men took out a flashlight and switched it on. The bright light hurt Lourds’ eyes and filled the narrow tunnel with illumination. He studied the faces of the five men in the tunnel but recognized none of them.
‘It’s safe in here, Professor Lourds,’ one of them said. He was young, no older than his late twenties surely. A carefully trimmed goatee framed his chin. His eyes were lost in the shadows of his cowl.
Cleena reloaded her pistol. ‘Can they get through that door?’
The man shook his head. ‘Not now. We’ve locked them out.’
Satisfied with her weapon’s readiness, she studied them. ‘Who are you?’
‘As I have stated, we are friends.’ The young man spoke patiently.
Lourds noticed that she had turned so her pistol hand was kept clear of the five men. She could quickly bring it into play. It seemed a habit as ingrained as breathing.
‘I know all my friends,’ she insisted.
‘Perhaps I should have said we are friends of the professor,’ the young man amended.
‘That true, Professor?’ she asked without taking her eyes off the strangers. ‘Do you know them?’
‘Not yet,’ Lourds said. ‘But I’m always open to meeting new friends.’ He looked at her. ‘Especially ones that don’t kidnap me when they first see me. That’s a first impression that’s hard to recover from.’
She shot him a hard glance. ‘We can save the meet and greet for later. This tunnel has to go somewhere. Maybe Qayin and his little friends might not be able to get through this door, but they can come at us from the other end of this passageway.’
‘Actually, they don’t know all the secrets of these catacombs. We know more about them than they do,’ the young man assured her.
‘That’s terrific,’ she said sarcastically. ‘You win. But I’d still prefer to be elsewhere.’
‘Of course.’ The young man nodded to his companion with the flashlight who immediately headed down the dark throat of the tunnel. Lourds followed the light.
Lourds guessed that several minutes passed as they made their way along the passage. He thought he detected an upward grade, but wasn’t sure. It was too dark to tell and he was more interested in listening for sounds of pursuit.
‘I see you’re carrying Qayin’s book,’ the young man said.
‘I had the impression that this book didn’t actually belong to Qayin,’ Lourds replied. ‘He couldn’t read it anyway.’
‘My bad,’ the man said, sounding for a moment like one of Lourds’ Harvard students. ‘I didn’t mean to infer that the book belonged to Qayin. It doesn’t.’
Unable to control his curiosity, Lourds asked, ‘Whose book is it?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say at this moment.’
‘Well, isn’t that delightfully mysterious,’ Cleena said.
‘Were you so curious about the people who hired you to kidnap Professor Lourds?’ the man countered.
She didn’t say anything, though Lourds couldn’t tell whether that was because of shame or anger.
‘What makes this book so special?’ Lourds asked.
‘Were you able to read it?’ the man asked.
‘I had barely started, but, yes, I believe I can read it. Given time.’
Behind him, Cleena cursed softly. Lourds suddenly realized that the admission might endanger him with their newfound friends.
‘Watch your head here.’ The young man reached up to touch a low-hanging section of the passageway ceiling.
Lourds ducked and followed the man through it. The passageway came to a T only a short distance farther on. They bore to the left.
‘What did you find out from reading the book?’ the young man asked.
‘Not enough,’ Lourds responded.
‘But you think you can decipher it?’
Lourds hesitated only a moment. If I say I can, are you going to take me captive? Or if I say I can’t, are you going to kill me? Neither of those options appealed to him. He had a mystery on his hands, a true enigma of the sort that he loved to unravel. He wasn’t prepared to let this go without a fight.
‘Yes,’ he answered.
‘That’s good.’ The young man halted behind the man with a flashlight. He held the flashlight while the leader did something to the wall ahead of them.
‘Do you know what the book is about?’ Lourds asked.
The young man looked at Lourds with deep sincerity. ‘Something has been lost, Professor Lourds. Something very valuable and very important. This thing must be found. Much depends on that.’
‘What has been lost?’
Sadly, the young man shook his head. ‘That isn’t for me to say. I apologize. I know you’ve had a difficult day. But anything I may tell you could interfere with your translation. The impressions you form regarding the material you’ll find there must be your own. Many people over the years have tried to decipher the book. If you fail, it must be your own unique failure.’
Up ahead, a section of the passageway wall opened up to reveal a small high space. Iron rungs were attached to one wall. The young man with the light shone the flashlight up into the vertical passageway.
‘All clear,’ he said.
Lourds was third in line and grabbed one of the rusting iron rungs above his head. He settled his backpack, with the book inside, across his shoulders and hoisted himself up. The corroded metal bit into his palms and flaked off as he climbed. A brief glance revealed that the vertical passageway went up some distance. He couldn’t keep watching because rust flakes spilled into his eyes. As he climbed, he felt the steady burn of his abused muscles and longed for bed. And a meal of some kind.
But the mystery of the book chafed at his mind as surely as the rotten iron dug into his hands.
Just when Lourds was about to let the others know he couldn’t go any further, the lead man called a halt to the procession. Metal rasped overhead, then sunlight poured down into the shaft.
Morning? Lourds couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But he had no frame of reference for how long he had been rendered unconscious by the drugs he had been given.
The first man climbed slowly and peered around for a moment, then climbed out of the tunnel. The young man who had done all the talking followed him. Then in short order, Lourds and the girl followed, then the other three men. Lourds stood in a narrow alley that could have been a twin of the one where the helicopter had crashed.
Cleena stood with her pistol in her fist. Somehow she’d made the long climb with the weapon in her hand. The five men watched her uneasily.
‘So how do we handle this?’ she asked.
‘We’re escorting Professor Lourds to his hotel,’ the young man with a goatee said.
‘What about me?’
‘You’re free to go.’
She looked at the five men suspiciously and took a fresh grip on her weapon. ‘What? Just like that?’
‘Yes.’
She smiled. ‘And if I preferred to take the professor with me?’
‘That wouldn’t be acceptable.’
‘I’ve always been told the person with the gun makes the rules.’
Uneasily, Lourds shifted and took a step back from her.
The young man spoke calmly. ‘I assure you, you’re not the only one with a weapon here. You were allowed to come with us because we don’t like to kill, nor would we allow Qayin and his followers to murder you. But our people have fought and died for centuries for the secrets contained within that book.’
Lourds didn’t know if the robed men were armed. He could see no weapons, but the robes concealed a lot. He suddenly felt like a choice meat bone being growled over by two dogs. The thing that most captured his attention was the statement about how long people had been searching for the secret he presently had in his possession. He pulled the backpack’s straps a little tighter.
Then he remembered the other men at the airport.
‘You didn’t try to contact me at the airport yesterday morning, did you?’
‘No, Professor,’ the young man answered.
So there is a third party after me, Lourds realized.
‘Professor?’ Cleena asked. ‘The decision is yours. Do you want to stay with them?’
‘They’ve said that they’re taking me to my hotel room,’ Lourds replied.
‘And you trust them?’
Lourds shrugged. ‘They haven’t kidnapped me.’
An insouciant smile quirked her lips. ‘Yet.’ She paused. ‘I wish you well, professor. It’s been… interesting, but I hope you don’t take offence when I tell you I hope never to see you again.’
‘No offence taken. And I hope you don’t mind that the feeling is mutual.’
Gun in hand, Cleena backed down the alley for one hundred paces. Then she turned and fled, rounding the corner at the end of the alley and disappearing.
‘Professor Lourds,’ the young man prompted, ‘are you ready to go to your hotel now?’
‘Of course. Give me just a second.’ Lourds rummaged in his backpack and took out the pen and paper he’d worked with earlier. He already knew the avenues he wanted to follow with the translation. As he made notes, his fascination grew.
Returning to the hotel proved less clandestine than Lourds would have believed. The group doffed their robes and threw them into a rubbish bin, then escorted him to the other end of the alley and hailed a cab. Only the young man with the goatee accompanied Lourds on the journey. No longer dressed in the robe, he looked like anyone. Like a student, actually, Lourds thought. He wore khaki slacks, loafers and a soccer jersey. He would have been perfectly at home on the greens at Harvard.
Around them, Istanbul had come to life. Pedestrians and tourists filled the streets: some window-shopped or sat at tables in outdoor cafés. Lourds had always loved the city. Istanbul, as Constantinople before it, had a long and exciting history.
The initial settlement had been made in 6500 BC on the Anatolian side of the area. The Fikirtepe mound had revealed artefacts dating from 5500-3500 BC, during the Copper Age. One of the ports, Kadikoy, also known as Chalcedon, had been active during the time of the Phoenicians. The Bosphorus River held the record for the narrowest strait used for international travel. According to ancient Greek myth, the river had been named after Io, one of Zeus’s lovers after the god turned her into an ox to protect her from his jealous wife. Usually Lourds found himself soothed by the presence of so much history around him. Despite the modern additions to the area, it wasn’t hard to imagine the seaport city as it had been during its heyday. The salty sea air wouldn’t have had the taint of diesel, but otherwise it would have smelled much the same.
But Lourds couldn’t relax. He kept expecting an assault from any front.
‘You didn’t mention your name,’ Lourds said.
The young man smiled and shook his head. ‘I cannot. Please forgive me this social inadequacy. I have very strict orders.’
‘Regarding me? Or the book?’
‘They are the same.’
‘Seeing as how I’ve been under the threat of death since I arrived in the city, isn’t there something you can tell me?’
‘Only that many things are coming to a head and danger is loose in the world.’
‘Kind of oblique, don’t you think?’ Lourds asked.
‘In your field of study, you’ve covered a lot of history. Have you ever known a prophecy that was not oblique?’
‘This is about a prophecy?’
‘No. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’ The young man trailed his fingers through his goatee and looked pained. ‘Honestly, Professor, I wish that I could tell you more.’
‘Besides you, and Qayin’s people, who else knows about this?’
‘Several people know something of the background regarding the book, and the secret it protects. Qayin’s people have had it for a very long time.’
‘How long?’
‘The last three hundred and thirty-seven years.’
‘In this city?’
‘That book,’ the young man said, ‘has never left this city.’
‘Why?’
‘It isn’t permitted.’
Lourds shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. Anyone could leave this city with the book.’
‘Could you?’ The young man smiled with bright interest. ‘I wonder if you could.’
‘Is that a challenge?’
‘The challenge, Professor, is whether you can decipher the book and find what it hides.’
‘I could do that at Harvard,’ Lourds said. ‘In fact, it might be far easier to do it there.’ He paused. ‘Or would you stop me?’
‘Yes. As would Qayin. There are others who seek the book as well. If you stay here, we can protect you to some degree.’
‘Like you did yesterday?’
‘We didn’t know you were in jeopardy until yesterday,’ the young man said.
‘You didn’t know Qayin would kidnap me?’
‘No. It wasn’t until his lackeys were recognized that we knew of Qayin’s involvement.’
‘Qayin thought I might be able to decipher the book and your people didn’t?’
‘Sorry, but no, we didn’t.’
Lourds emitted a displeased grunt.
‘Please don’t take that as a slight against your ability, Professor,’ the young man said. ‘We’ve had people working on that book for generations. During those years, my superiors have come to the conclusion that we weren’t waiting for an individual to translate that text. We were waiting for a time.’
Somewhat mollified, Lourds nodded. ‘You think now is the time?’
‘We are prepared to wait and see. And to allow you your chance with the book. When we found Qayin’s hiding place and discovered that you were able to translate portions of the book, it was decided that perhaps the time might be now.’ The young man glanced out of the window but Lourds knew he wasn’t seeing anything out there. His mind was elsewhere.
‘Qayin must have had a higher estimation of my abilities than you,’ Lourds said.
‘Perhaps.’ The young man glanced at Lourds again. ‘Or perhaps he was merely more desperate.’
‘I suppose there’s no slight intended in that observation either.’
‘No. I apologize. I’m used to being very blunt in matters concerning that book.’
The cab slowed, then pulled into the entrance lane of the Eserin Crown Hotel. A liveried expediter stepped up to the side of the cab and opened the door for Lourds. The man was professional enough to only look askance at the professor’s dishevelled appearance for a moment.
‘Good morning, sir,’ the expediter greeted. ‘Welcome to the Eserin Crown Hotel.’
‘Good morning,’ Lourds responded. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you have any bags?’
Lourds almost laughed. Had the situation been funny, he might have. ‘No, I suppose I don’t.’ That was going to be a problem. He turned back to the young man in the cab. ‘Will I see you again?’
‘That remains to be seen.’ He extended a hand. ‘Good luck, Professor. I hope you’re successful in your endeavour. In any event, we will be in touch.’
Lourds didn’t know if he was supposed to feel threatened, but he did. Having nothing else to say, he closed the cab’s door and stepped back. The cab driver cruised sedately into the traffic. The young man glanced back through the window and waved in a purely innocent gesture.
Lourds waved back and felt immediately stupid. He turned to the expediter. ‘I suppose the hotel has good security?’
‘Of course, sir. Only the very best.’
‘And someone on site?’
The expediter looked at Lourds curiously. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Very good.’ Lourds allowed the man to open the door for him and stepped into an elegant foyer. Guests and staff stared at him as though he were a street person. He had to admit that, with torn clothing and covered in dirt, he would have easily passed muster as one of those.
Gathering his dignity, Lourds approached the check-in desk. A beautiful young woman in a business suit looked up at him and politely said hello. Lourds gave her his name. The young woman’s face brightened immediately, but it was clearly a struggle. Lourds was certain she was probably downwind of him.
‘Ah, of course. Professor Lourds,’ the young woman said brightly. ‘We had expected you yesterday.’
‘I take it you haven’t been watching the news.’
The young woman gazed at him blankly. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I was delayed,’ Lourds replied. ‘It was in the news.’
‘Sorry. I must have missed it.’ She made quick entries into the computer and asked for a credit card against room expenses. ‘Would you need one key or two?’
‘One, thank you.’ Lourds took the proffered key and headed for the elevator bank.
‘Oh, Professor Lourds,’ the desk clerk called.
‘Yes?’
‘You’ll find your bags are already in your room.’
‘Really? Who delivered them?’
The clerk shrugged and looked at her computer. ‘The screen doesn’t say. Only that the bags were delivered yesterday afternoon.’
Lourds thanked her and took the elevator up to his room. You really shouldn’t be doing this, he thought. If you had any sense, you’d take a taxi to the airport and board the first flight back to Boston that you could get.
But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. The mystery of the book was calling out to him.
Outside his room door, Lourds hesitated with the electronic keycard in hand. Cold fear shivered through him and nausea twisted his stomach. He really wasn’t prepared for anything like this.
Despite his efforts to find lost Atlantis, and all the dangers he’d faced then, he wasn’t mentally or physically suited for the rigours of getting shot at and beaten. Those were experiences he much preferred to read about in the thrillers he relished. He was a simple man, really.
With his hands shaking the way they were, it took three attempts to get the keycard through the reader. The lock clicked and the light flashed green, indicating the door was open. Lourds eased into the room slowly and carefully, listening for the slightest noise. He spotted his luggage at the foot of the king-sized bed. The sight of the bed alone enticed him into the darkened room. He stripped out of the backpack and dropped it on to the room’s desk.
A mirror hung over the desk. When Lourds flipped on the nearby light and sought to check the damage done to his face, he saw the reflection of a man sitting comfortably in a chair beside the bed. Lourds hadn’t been able to see the man until it was too late.
He span round and headed for the exit, pausing only long enough to snag the backpack. Before he reached the door, it opened and a large man filled the doorway. The man stepped into the room and Lourds backed up.
‘Ah, Professor Lourds, I presume.’ The man in the chair beside the bed smiled apologetically. ‘I beg your indulgence. I feel like Stanley meeting Doctor Livingstone.’
Lourds stood his ground when the big man stopped advancing. The room was on the fourth floor. Even if he were able to crash through the reinforced glass of the window, when that shattered, he wouldn’t survive the fall.
‘I understood the reference,’ Lourds said.
The man smiled. ‘I knew you would. I don’t often get to talk to people so well educated in my line of work.’
‘Maybe you should tell me what your line of work is. Other than breaking and entering into hotel rooms.’
‘Oh, I didn’t break and enter, Professor. I had an invitation.’ The man reached under his jacket, and the brief movement revealed the pistol residing in the shoulder holster tucked neatly under his arm. ‘I have a legal document that allowed me to enter. I assume your Turkish is good?’
‘My Turkish is fantastic.’ Lourds took the document the man held out and glanced at it.
‘I assure you, Professor, you’ll find everything is in order.’
Lourds looked over the top of the document at the man. ‘You’re a policeman?’
The man spread his hands and smiled. ‘A detective, actually. Detective Dilek Ersoz at your service.’ He inclined his head slightly. ‘And I’m a fan. I enjoyed your Atlantis book and some of your other analytical treatises. And my wife continues to sing praises of Bedroom Pursuits.’
‘Can’t ever have too many fans, according to my publishers.’ Lourds handed the document back. ‘I assume you’re not here about an autograph. The last one I signed didn’t turn out so well.’
‘An autograph would be most excellent at some point,’ Ersoz replied. ‘Sadly, this is not that point.’
‘What do you want, Detective Ersoz?’
Ersoz held his thumb and forefinger about a quarter-inch apart. ‘Only a short amount of your time, Professor.’
‘I suppose I have no choice?’
‘Of course you have a choice.’ Ersoz smiled. ‘You can come of your own free will, or we can arrest you and take you out of here in handcuffs.’
‘I suppose a shower is out of the question.’
‘I must express my apologies for the hurry. My superior did ask me to bring you in the moment you showed up.’
Lourds sighed. ‘Of course he did.’
‘People died yesterday morning, Professor. There always has to be an accounting for something like this.’ Ersoz stood and fastidiously shot his cuffs. ‘Let’s go.’
Without another word, Lourds clapped his hat on his head once more and grabbed his backpack. He followed the big man out of the room.