“That Colt looks familiar.”
Dirk reluctantly passed the weapon to his father. “You told me once how Loren had sent you a gun in Mongolia hidden in a cutout copy of Moby-Dick. I checked your cabin on a hunch and saw it on the shelf. Hope you don’t mind.”
Pitt shook his head, then gazed at the bloody muck that was left of Zakkar.
“You did quite a number on him,” he said.
“That lowlife led the attacks at Caesarea and Jerusalem,” Dirk replied coldly, leaving unsaid the fact that Zakkar was indirectly responsible for Sophie’s death.
“It’s pretty odd that he ended up here,” Summer said.
“I suspect your British friend might know something about that,” Pitt said, pointing toward Bannister.
The archaeologist had pulled himself upright against the rocks and stared at them with a dazed look.
“I’ll go check on him,” Giordino offered. “Why don’t you guys find out what’s aboard.”
“Did you find the Manifest cargo?” Summer asked hopefully.
“I was a bit too preoccupied to find out,” Pitt replied. “Come, somebody help a feeble old man aboard.”
With Dirk and Summer’s aid, Pitt hobbled up onto the galley, then climbed down the companionway to the dark galley deck. He limped over to the stack of crates that he had earlier used for cover.
“I suggest we start here,” he said. Grabbing one of the smaller crates, he blew a layer of dust off of its side, then shined a flashlight at it. A faded red Chi-Rho symbol was visible on the wood.
“Summer, that’s your Cross of Constantine,” Dirk noted.
Summer grabbed the flashlight from her father’s hand and studied the image, nodding quietly in excitement.
The crate showed damage along its side, where a burst from Zakkar’s Uzi had riddled the edge. Pitt took the butt of his .45 and rapped it carefully against the damaged seam to open the crate. The narrow end piece easily popped off, causing the damaged front cover to fall away. A pair of well-worn leather sandals tumbled out of the open box, falling to the deck. Summer tracked the sandals with the flashlight’s beam, noting a small slip of parchment strapped to one of the shoes. Shining the light closer, she illuminated a handwritten label penned in Latin:
Sandalii Christus
The translation was not lost on anyone. They were staring at the shoes of Jesus.
EPILOGUE
THE SAVIORS
99
THE CROWDS HAD GATHERED OUTSIDE THE DOORS OF Hagia Sophia in an immense line that stretched for more than six blocks. Pious Christians rubbed elbows with devout Muslims as pilgrims of both religions waited anxiously for the doors to open to the exhibit displayed inside. The venerated landmark building had been witness to countless historical dramas in the fourteen hundred years it had dominated the skyline of Istanbul. Yet few events in its past had generated the kind of excitement that pulsed through the crowd clamoring for a chance to make their way inside.
Those in the crowd paid scant attention to the old green Delahaye convertible parked in front of the entrance. Had they looked closer, they might have noticed a seam of bullet holes
stitched across the trunk, which the car’s new owner had yet to repair.
Inside the building, a small group of VIPs stepped reverently across Coronation Square, admiring the dual exhibits beneath Hagia Sophia’s towering main dome one hundred and seventy-seven feet above their heads. To their right, they found a display devoted to the life of Muhammad, containing the stolen battle pendant, a partial handwritten recitation of the Qur’an, and other artifacts gleaned from the personal collection of Ozden Celik. On the left side of the hall were the relics of Jesus, discovered on the galley in Cyprus. Dozens of armed guards began assembling around the display cases of both exhibits, preparing for the museum’s formal opening to the public.
Giordino and Gunn were conversing with Loren and Pitt near a glass-encased ossuary when Dr. Ruppé joined them.
“It’s magnificent!” Ruppé beamed. “I can’t believe you pulled this off. A joint exhibit featuring relics from the lives of both Jesus and Muhammad. And in such a setting.”
“With its historic legacy as both a church and a mosque, Hagia Sophia seemed like the perfect place to showcase the artifacts,” Pitt said. “I guess you could say that the Mayor of Istanbul owed me one as well,” he added with a grin.
“It certainly helped that the folks in Cyprus agreed to a tour of the Jesus artifacts while they construct a permanent exhibit for the relics and the galley,” Gunn said.
“Don’t forget the late Mr. Celik’s contributions,” Giordino said.