Back at the hotel, Alex and Sam freshened up and met up downstairs in the restaurant. As usual, the dining area was filled entirely with exhilarated tourists. It was a bustle of clanging cutlery and irrelevant chatter. Sam, who got to the table first, recognized several British and Australian tourists with a few Dutch patriots scattered in between. Oblivious to the world around him, he tucked into his plate that brimmed with fresh waffles and bacon drenched with maple syrup and bananas.
“Are you feeding an entire army off that plate?” Alex commented as she sat down opposite him.
Sam’s mouth was stuffed from cheek to cheek. “You bet! An army of starved cells in my body yes. What you got there?” noticing a brown manila envelope in her hand.
“I had the pictures of the scroll printed at the front desk. There has to be some way of decrypting it. I mean, I get that it was written over a hundred years ago, but someone has to know how to read it, right? I figured we start with Mr. San Yeng-Pho. Perhaps he knows of someone who can help us understand what it says.”
Alex reached over and snatched a piece of crispy bacon off his plate. Her laptop was already open as she frantically searched the web for any possible match to the ancient writing. She flipped through website after website, image after image, and nothing.
“There’s nothing anywhere. I’ve traced it back to all the royals who reigned in Cambodia at the time and nothing.”
“Try the French archives. Remember, the French tried to take over Southeast Asia and forced the king to comply with French protectorate over Cambodia. Perhaps something similar was communicated between them and somehow found its way to France.”
Alex stared in amazement at him over her coffee cup.
“Well, aren’t you in top form today? Did you swallow the history books last night?”
Sam chuckled proudly as he stuffed another forkful of food in his mouth.
“I think you’re right. We need to try and timestamp the exact period of the scroll’s origin. Am I right in remembering Roshi said it was passed from king to king?”
“Hundred percent; I recall him saying it was handed from king Norodom to king Sisowat.”
Alex frantically thrashed out some keys on her laptop and then paused with a puzzled look on her face.
“Nope. There’s no record of how it came into the hands of king Norodom. He ruled Cambodia from February 1834 to April 1904; seventy years! That’s practically his entire life.”
Sam dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. “That’s it, I can’t fit another mouthful in.” He reached for the manila envelope and pulled out the printed copy of the scroll to study.
“Is this even writing? It looks like the squiggles we had to learn in kindergarten; a bunch of wave drawings with dots on. From what I can see there aren’t any numbers on it either. No dates, names or anything,” Sam paused before commenting further as he turned the paper upside down. “What about the actual paper? Can you find any information on the paper? Ollie said it was some kind of palm leaf.”
“Good point,” Alex responded excitedly before moving her fingers over the keyboard again.
“Okay, here’s something. The medium dates back to just over a hundred years old. Definitely, a leaf from the Buong tree, as Ollie said. Before this, they used stone or bamboo planks to write on.” She paused briefly and then added, “but that doesn’t add up. Norodom was on the throne until 1904 so this substance only came into being after he seized his reign.”
“It is entirely possible that the ‘over a hundred years’ fell within the last years of his reign,” Sam added to which Alex nodded in agreement.
“True,” tapping away on her keys again.
Moments later a front of house attendant was at their table.
“You have a telephone call, Miss Hunt. Please follow me.”
“A telephone call? From who?” but the skinny young woman didn’t answer so Alex followed her lead to the front desk where the receiver lay on the counter.
“Hello?”
“Good day Miss Hunt. Please hold for a call from the Commissioner,” the female voice announced on the other end of the line.
A cheery Mr. San Yeng-Pho’s voice came through the receiver seconds later informing Alex that they had found their stolen vehicle twenty miles north of Oudong. There was no evidence to indicate whom the thieves were and that they had returned it to the rental company.
“That’s great news, Mr. San Yeng-Pho, thank you. As it happens, I wanted to run something by you. We found a lead that might help us find the golden urn in question, or at the very least dispel the legend that it wasn’t the original one. It is roughly a hundred-year-old sacred document made from Buong leaf and was passed between kings. It may carry some valuable information to aid us in our quest. The only problem is, it is written in a language not known to the lay man on the street. It doesn’t appear to be Khmer or Mandarin. Could you by any chance point us to someone who might have the ability to translate the written text, please?”
There was a brief moment of silence on the line before the Commissioner spoke with a tone Alex couldn’t quite place. She scrambled for a piece of paper and pen from the front desk and took down the name and address he gave her before returning to their table.
“And? What was that all about?” Sam queried as Alex took her seat.
“It was Mr. San Yeng-Pho. They found the car. He also gave me this name and address in Tri Ton and said this man will be able to help with interpreting the information on the scroll. Apparently dried leaf inscriptions were mainly used to record Khmer prayers and descriptions of historical events so if two kings communicated with it then the information would be encrypted and of great significance. He said that there is a pagoda in another town called Soc Trang which is said to have over a hundred of these Buddhist prayer books preserved. The documents are also known as Sa-tra in the Khmer language.”
Sam took the piece of paper.
“Excellent work, Miss Hunt. Then that’s where we’ll start isn’t it?”
Sam pulled the map from his backpack on the floor. “Let’s see. Tri Ton, Tri Ton, Tri…got it! It’s in the An Giang province that is south from here just inside the Vietnam border. Guess we’re going to Vietnam,” an elated Sam announced folding the map back into his bag.
“This excites you doesn’t it Quinn? It seems the archaeology bug has bitten good and proper,” Alex smiled.
“Are you kidding? Something tells me that scroll was far more important than we know for it to come out of the woodworks now. Besides, I’m always up for a little adventure, even if only to keep you out of trouble.”
Tri Ton, Vietnam
Forty-five minutes later the two had checked out of their hotel and were in a hired car making the three-and-a-half hour trip to Vietnam. The smooth drive took them past several rice fields laced with workers harvesting the rice. They drove through smaller traditional villages where small groups of excited kids came running up to the car waving and shouting in greeting. Colorful local markets displayed everything from fresh vegetable stalls to bright colored clothing and fabric stands that were crammed with tourists. Outside the villages, lush green scenery prevailed for most of the trip.
It was early evening when they arrived in Tri Ton. The town buzzed with locals on their scooters while bright neon lights lit up the umpteen bars and clubs located on every street and its corner. It was nearly impossible to drive the car through the hoards of commuters rushing home. Deciding it was smarter to leave the car parked and set off on foot, Alex and Sam pulled over on the outskirts of the town and set off toward downtown Tri Ton on foot.
Ladies of the night paraded the curbs looking to earn a living off the libidinous male tourists who window-shopped to their heart’s delight. Some ‘ladies’ looked deceivingly more like men in wigs plastered with make-up and artificial nails while loud American music filled the streets from all angles in an attempt to compete with each other in attracting business. The energetic atmosphere was the exact opposite of what one experienced during the day. It was very much alive and almost electric.
As dusk fell and it became nighttime, the commuters died down and left nothing but crammed bars, flashing lights and scantily clad pole dancers in their wake.
Alex gripped her backpack tighter, and Sam took hold of her hand as added protection. Though crime wasn’t prevalent in Vietnam, petty theft was undoubtedly rife. The pair walked the crowded curbs with caution until they found the street Mr. San Yeng-Pho had directed them to.
“I think this is it,” Sam said. “Yup, this is the street. I just don’t have the foggiest which house it would be. There aren’t any numbers anywhere.”
The street was located in downtown Tri Ton, and there wasn’t a tourist in sight. Instead, locals overcrowded the curbs outside overly seedy looking bars filled with half naked woman serving drinks at the tables. Heavily tattooed men were laden with gold chains, and clouds of cigarette smoke lay thick in the air. Above the bars were dingy looking apartments decorated with laundry hanging from just about every window balcony. Suspicious stares greeted them as they passed the exposed bars.
Sam gripped Alex’s hand tighter and moved his other hand over his tummy where he had secured his revolver under his shirt in his jean’s waistband. Being out at night amongst the tourists in the uptown streets was relatively safe, but being out here, required a different kind of courage.
“I think we should turn back, Sam,” Alex whispered.
“I agree, let’s walk up that street over there.”
They had trailed off down the road too far to turn around. The end of the street was in sight. Alex glanced sideways into one of the nightclubs where a grubby looking Asian man was halfway through his addiction at a small table that stood in plain sight. On his one knee was a topless prostitute cheering him on while, hanging over his shoulders, another one was pulling the rubber band tighter around his arm. He looked up and winked at Alex, sending uncomfortable quivers down her spine. Nervous tremors paralyzed her legs which slowed her pace as she tried to keep up with Sam whom forcefully pushed their way through a drunken crowd in front of them. Suddenly Sam stopped and she slammed into him from behind.
“Why are you stopping Sam? Let’s get out of here!”
Sam didn’t answer. Instead, he hurriedly changed direction and pulled her across the street. The scene on the other side of the road was much the same; lined with seedy bars and clubs. Sam’s pace quickened. His attention seemed to be pinned to something up ahead.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Alex urged.
“We’re being followed,” he answered abruptly. “Pick up the pace, Alex.”
A flustered Alex turned to see who he was referring to and spotted two Asian men behind her and two more on the opposite pavement. They bore a striking similarity to the thugs on the motorbikes.
“It’s the same guys that were on the bikes, Sam!”
Sam didn’t answer. He knew that already. They pushed through the crowd bumping several drunken locals who shouted in anger after them. Sam scoured the area in search of an escape route but every street he looked up was as sleazy as the one they were already in. He spotted an alleyway up ahead and glanced to his left to eyeball the stalkers. Alex kept her eyes on the ones behind them. They had already gained ground. If they kept heading straight the thugs would impede them up ahead. If they turn back, they’d run into the ones behind them. Apart from the dark side alley they were trapped. It was their only option and by this time both Alex and Sam were in a light jog as they raced to get to the alley before the thugs got there. They had no idea where the narrow passageway would lead them, but it was their only chance of escaping them alive.
Sam picked up the pace. His long strides jerked Alex into a run to keep up. The group of men picked up speed too and started closing in on them. Sam tightened his grip on Alex’s hand who by now was a dangling mess behind Sam as she tried to keep up. She gripped the cord of her backpack over her shoulder to stop it from hitting against her back and throwing her off momentum. They got to the alley first. A good sixty-five feet ahead of their pursuers. The alley was deserted, dark and reeked of danger. Sam pulled Alex closer to his side.
“Run, Alex! We need to gain ground!” He let go of her hand affording her a far more comfortable running stance. Their feet hit the poorly paved road with a thunderous thumping that echoed off the walls on either side of the narrow passage. There wasn’t a human in sight anywhere and even if there were, they’d no doubt be as dangerous as these thugs. The buildings on either side had several wooden doors and windows that were shut tight. It was dangerously dark and eerie. They kept running, as fast as they could. Alex looked back and saw the men turning up into the alley behind them.
“Sam, they’re right behind us! What do we do?”
Sam looked back. The guys were easily a hundred feet behind them concluding they had a slight advantage over them.
“We keep running, Alex! As fast as our feet can take us! Don’t look back! Just RUN!”
On cue, Alex propelled forward into a sprint keeping her eyes on the neon lights at the end of the alley which was at least another three-hundred feet ahead. The men’s feet thumped on the tar road behind them but Alex forced herself not to turn and look back at them. She needed to remain focussed. If they’re in luck, the street up ahead should be the main street separating the tourist neighborhood from downtown. Directly in front of them was a just-below-the-hip high barrier closing off the alleyway to the main road. They would have to attempt to jump over it. There’s no time to stop now. Alex silently shot up a prayer that her five foot seven body would make the jump. Fear gripped her throat as she came closer to the railing. She had no choice. Thirty feet or so on the other side of that obstruction they’d reach safety. As if Sam sensed her fear, he yelled out, “You can do this, Alex! One high jump that’s all!”
Her breathing was unstable and her lungs burned under the strain of her full sprint as she came closer to the barrier. Panic strangled her throat as she tried to figure out which leg to extend in front of her. Adrenaline soared through her veins as she leaped over the railing but seconds later her chin hit the asphalt and she felt the burning pain in her knees and hands as the gravel ripped through her flesh. In a panic she looked back at the men who were fast gaining on them. She felt Sam’s strong hands in her armpits as he pulled her up from the ground and threw her over his shoulder. She wasn’t quite sure what hurt more; her bleeding wounds or Sam’s shoulder pushing into her tummy as he ran toward the lights. Facing down she had no way of seeing how far they were from the main road but what she could see when she lifted her head was one of the men pointing his gun directly behind them.
“Gun! Sam, they’re going to shoot!”
Sam panted heavily, unable to speak under the extreme burden of carrying Alex while in a full sprint. Alex tried to reach for Sam’s gun that was tucked under his shirt in front of his pants but couldn’t. A bullet whooshed by them quickly followed by a succession of open fire. Sam ducked and ran for cover at the side of the road. The neon lights were right in front of them. He needed to be on the opposite side of the road to turn up around the corner to get to their car. Shots resounded above the nearing club music as the bullets whistled through his feet and legs. He couldn’t go any faster. Though Alex was small-framed and feather lite, his feet couldn’t gather any more speed. His thighs were on fire as his muscles took strain under the run. They were out of options. He had to risk the firing bullets and cross the street to get them to safety. He swerved to the left, almost throwing Alex off his shoulder. She groaned as his shoulder pushed harder into her belly leaving her gasping for air. The bullets stopped just as they turned the corner onto the pavement and rammed through a group of festive tourists who soon after, realized what they had been running from.
Frazzled screams echoed in the night air as a number of people were shoved out of the way.
Alex and Sam crossed the busy street in a final attempt to disappear amongst the crowd. Their car was just ahead. He had to keep going until they were safe. Stopping now wasn’t an option. Alex lifted her head and surveyed the entrance to the alleyway behind them that now lay bare in their wake. They had lost them. The thugs were nowhere in sight.
“I think they’re gone, Sam. You can put me down now. I think I can walk.”
Sam ignored her. He wasn’t sprinting anymore, but he wasn’t slowing down either. Alex looked sideways and recognized the bar that was opposite their parked car. There was no mistaking it since the particular venue took up substantial space and was open to the road, clearly recognizable by the enormous tiger-head ornaments that decorated the sides of the building with a dozen more smaller ones hanging over the elongated bar counter. The lights were a brilliant white, illuminating most of the street which was why they had parked the car there in the first place, thinking it would be safest under the bright lights.
Alex’s calves hit the hard metal of the car before she propelled backward onto the hood. Sam circled the car and yanked open the back door before coming back around to pick her up. It all happened so fast. Before she could object, she was thrown into the backseat with Sam jumping behind the wheel and speeding off. He hadn’t said a word and was gasping for air. His foot slammed down on the accelerator, clearly still governed by adrenaline.
“We lost them, Sam, it’s okay,” Alex said with a broken voice as the tears pooled in her eyes.
Sam looked in the rearview mirror and caught sight of Alex’s consoling eyes. He slowed the car down. Blood gushed from her chin and had trickled down her neck.
“We lost them, Sam,” she repeated. His eyes were the size of saucers; evidence that he was still in shock.
“Are you okay?” he asked speaking for the first time since the chase started.
Alex nodded. “You?”
Sam wasn’t sure. He patted his chest and arms and stopped as his hand felt the saturated patch on the side of his thigh. A pool of blood lay on the seat under his leg.
Noticing something was amiss Alex sat up and leaned forward.
“You’re shot! Sam they shot you!”
Alex frantically climbed between the seats and sat down in the passenger seat to get a better glimpse of his leg.
“Sam stop, you need to pull over. There’s a lot of blood.”
Sam’s face had already turned a pale white.
“Don’t you pass out on me, Sam Quinn, do you hear me? Pull over!”
He did as she instructed and pulled over in a nearby no parking zone, scraping the front wheel against the curb.
Alex jumped out and hobbled around the car. She yanked open the driver’s door and noticed the extent of Sam’s wound for the first time. It was bad, very bad. His jeans were drenched in blood. Sam was quiet. She pulled her belt from her pants and tied it just above the wound to stop the bleeding. She bent down and drew her pocketknife from her boot and sliced through the wet fabric, ripping it open to expose the gaping gunshot wound.
Alex fought to hide the shock on her face, drawing back a quick breath as she looked down at the exposed flesh and fast-flowing blood. “Sam, this is bad. It’s really bad. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No,” Sam groaned. “They’ll find us there. You’re going to need to remove the bullet yourself. Get us to a hotel.”
“You’re insane! Have you lost your marbles, Quinn? I’m not a doctor! No way!”
Sam gripped her hand and pinned her eyes with his. “You can do this Alex. I won’t be able to do it myself. I’d need a steady hand so I don’t puncture an artery. Besides there’s a good chance I will lose consciousness from the pain. I’ll guide you through it as far as I can but we’d need to go now before I lose any more blood.”