Chapter 46

They rose before dawn and met in the courtyard, where Miriam had coffee, fruit, and bread for them.

They carried their backpacks and equipment, and what was left behind would be burned along with the Navion, to hide any traces that they’d been in the village.

Vivian and Purcell had slept in the same room, but not in the same bed. So they were friends.

The sky was beginning to lighten, and Purcell could see it was going to be a clear day. No one spoke much, because there was little to say that hadn’t already been said, and also because there were no words equal to the moment of heading off into the unknown.

Purcell, Vivian, and Henry thanked Miriam for her hospitality and promised to meet again under better circumstances. She seemed sorry to see them go, Purcell thought, but probably relieved, too. She didn’t hand them a map to the black monastery, but she did say, “If God wants you to find this place, you will.” She also assured them, “Edmund will be your guide in the jungle. Please be his guide in the ways of God.”

Henry and Vivian said they would.

They left Colonel Gann to say his own good-bye to his lady, and they went through a back door and into a flower garden.

They had as much food with them as they could carry, which consisted mostly of boiled eggs, bread, dates, and dried meat, all of which Gann assured them was high in nutrition, and would last a week. They each carried two canteens; one of water, one of the purple juice, which Purcell had come to enjoy. Henry had his Moët, of course, and Vivian had her camera. Purcell was in charge of the maps.

Colonel Gann came out into the garden, and it was obvious that his parting had been difficult. Purcell had never known that feeling himself, or if he had, the sense of loss was always made easier by a larger sense of relief.

Purcell looked at Vivian in the dawn light and saw she was looking at him, and probably thinking the same thing: How will we part? Hopefully, as friends.

Colonel Gann gave everyone a five-minute lesson on the Uzi, which indeed was a simple weapon to load and fire. Gann then led them through a fruit orchard and across a pasture toward the thick rain forest that surrounded the fields and village of Shoan.

He knew his way, and within fifteen minutes he’d found the head of a trail that none of them could have found, even in full sunlight. They entered the rain forest, going from human habitation to a world of flora and fauna that had barely been disturbed since the beginning of time.

The trail was narrow, and the jungle growth encroached on all sides. They walked silently, single file, and crouched most of the way. Gann had a machete with him, but he didn’t want to use it and leave evidence that the trail had been traveled.

Their first stop, after about ten minutes, was a huge gnarled tree that was mostly dead, and which Gann said was a baobab. A few paces from the tree was the shortwave radio, wrapped in plastic and covered with palm fronds.

Gann had hoped that the Royalist partisans had delivered new batteries, but the radio was still dead.

He said in a whisper, “This trail will take us to the spa. The road would be faster, but we’re more likely to come upon someone on the road—a vehicle, an army patrol, or Gallas on horseback.” He also told them, “I know some of these trails, but so do others. We need to remain silent, and we need to listen to the jungle. I will take the point, and Mr. Purcell will take the rear. If anyone hears anything, you will quickly and silently alert everyone, and point to where you’ve heard the sound. We will then take cover off the trail.” He asked, “Any questions?”

“Can I smoke?”

“No.”

They continued on, and the trail became more overgrown. They were heading generally north, paralleling the narrow road that they had driven in September. Purcell hadn’t much enjoyed driving the creepy road through the dark jungle, and he wasn’t enjoying walking through that jungle now.

The ribbon of sky above the narrow trail was getting lighter, and somewhere out there, the sun was shining.

Vivian was walking ahead of Purcell, and now and then she glanced back and gave him a smile, which he returned. It was hard to stay angry when each step could be your last, and when you were just hours or days away from the greatest religious discovery since Moses found the Ten Commandments—which, as it turned out, were in Axum, inside the Ark of the Covenant.

Purcell still didn’t believe in any of this, but he would be happy to be proven wrong.

After about an hour, Gann stopped and motioned everyone to the right side of the trail where an outcropping of black obsidian lay among the ground growth between towering trees. They sat on the rock and took a break. Gann and Purcell looked at one of the maps and estimated where they were. Gann said quietly, “The spa will be another two or three hours.”

They both studied the map and agreed that their next objective after the spa would be Prince Theodore’s fortress, which was about five or six kilometers east of the spa.

Gann said, “The map does not show a trail between the fortress and the spa, and if we can’t find one on the ground, and if there is thick underbrush between the trees, as there is here, we will have to cut a trail.” He informed them, “That could take more than a day to travel that five kilometers.”

Vivian reminded them, “Father Armano walked from the fortress to the spa, and we saw him at about ten at night.”

Gann inquired, “What time did he start from the fortress?”

Vivian replied, “I don’t know… but we have to assume he started sometime that evening… he could not have traveled far with that wound.”

Purcell reminded them, “Getachu said that his artillery bombarded Prince Theodore’s fortress—and this is probably how Father Armano got out of his cell.”

Gann nodded and said, “That would have been about seven-fifteen.” He told them, “I took note of the time, and I wondered what the idiot was shooting at, because he wasn’t shooting at me or Prince Joshua’s camp.”

So, with a little simple math, everyone agreed that Father Armano was freed from his cell—probably by a lucky artillery round—after 7:15 P.M., and he appeared at the spa about three hours later, meaning there was a good and direct trail between the fortress and the spa. All they had to do was find it.

Vivian looked at the rock they were sitting on and asked, “Could this be the rock that Father Armano mentioned?”

Gann replied, “There are many rock outcroppings in this area, and there is nothing remarkable about this one.” He suggested, “I think you should forget the rock, the tree, and the stream, which may have had some meaning to the priest, but that meaning is obscure to us.”

Vivian did not reply.

They all stood and continued on. It was becoming warmer, and more humid, and the thick, rotting vegetation gave off noxious vapors, which reminded Purcell of the jungles of Southeast Asia. There was a reason that few people lived in the lush tropical rain forests of the world; it was a hostile environment to humans, and a paradise for insects, slithering snakes, and animals with fangs and claws. In fact, he thought, the jungle sucked.

They continued on.

Colonel Gann walked easily, like he did this every day before breakfast, Purcell thought. And Vivian had youth on her side, but about sixty pounds of gear on her back, and Purcell could see she was dragging a bit. Henry, too, seemed a bit fatigued, and if physical exhaustion is mostly mental, then Henry should be thinking about their last trek when he’d run out of gas at a bad time, which led to a series of events that nearly got them all killed. Henry now wanted to redeem himself, and impress Vivian, of course, or at least not pass out in front of her, and that should keep him moving. If not, he should think about Gallas coming for his balls.

They continued on through the jungle, or rain forest, as Purcell’s editors now wanted it called. The insects and birds made a lot of noise, which covered the sound of danger. But as Purcell had learned in Vietnam when traveling with army patrols, if the birds become quiet, they’ve heard something. It could be you they’ve heard, or something else.

Purcell considered himself in fairly good shape, despite the cocktails and cigarettes, and this hike, even with all the carried weight, was so far like a walk in the park. But after a week of this, and sleeping on the ground, and the scant rations, he could imagine that they’d all be having some problems. It was obvious why the Gallas rode horses, and why many armies used mules as pack animals. But Colonel Gann had vetoed both for a variety of practical reasons, mostly having to do with noise discipline, and water and forage for the animals. Purcell did not usually defer to anyone in his business, which was why he was freelance and mostly between jobs; but he would defer to Colonel Gann in his business, as long as he thought Gann knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, Gann motioned everyone together and said, “The spa is about fifty meters ahead. I will go first and recon.” He borrowed Mercado’s binoculars, then handed Purcell the Uzi and three extra magazines and said, “You will cover me.” He pulled a long-barreled revolver from under his bush jacket and headed down the trail. Purcell motioned Vivian and Mercado to stay put, and followed Gann.

The trail ended at the clearing around the spa, and fifty yards ahead was the side of the white stucco hotel, sitting in the sunlight. Gann was scanning the area around the building, then moved toward it.

Purcell took the Uzi off safety and followed Gann through the tall grass. Gann went around to the front of the hotel, and Purcell kept about twenty yards behind him. Gann climbed the steps and disappeared into the building, and Purcell waited. A few minutes later, Gann reappeared and signaled all clear.

Purcell looked back to the edge of the jungle and saw Mercado and Vivian making their way through the chest-high grass. He motioned them to join him, and together they walked quickly to the front of the spa hotel.

They stood at the base of the steps that they’d climbed with the Jeep and looked at the crumbling ruin.

Vivian said, “We are back.”

Purcell looked across the field toward the narrow road they’d driven that night, and he could see the place where he’d crashed the Jeep through the thick wall of high brush that blocked the spa from the road. He looked back at the hotel. He must have seen the dome, he thought, or it registered subconsciously, and that was why he’d suddenly turned off the road.

Vivian saw what Purcell was looking at and said, “Fate, Frank. Don’t try to understand it.”

Mercado agreed, “I see God’s hand in this.”

Hard to argue with that, so he didn’t.

Vivian walked halfway up the steps, and Mercado and Purcell joined her.

She looked around and asked, “Can you believe this?” She turned to Purcell. “We are back where it began.”

Actually, Purcell thought, this all began in the Hilton bar, with Henry inviting him to come with them to the front lines. A simple “No” would have been a good answer. But Henry’s invitation was flattering. And Vivian had smiled at him. And he may have had one cocktail more than he needed.

Ego, balls, alcohol, and a restless dick; a sure combination for glory or disaster.

Vivian said, “We will begin here, where Father Armano ended his life. We have been to Berini, and we have been to Rome, and we will follow the priest’s footsteps to his prison. And with his help and God’s help we will also follow his footsteps to the black monastery, and the Holy Grail.”

Vivian took both their hands, and they continued up the steps to the place where Father Armano’s fate had intersected with theirs.