Read Online The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller by Ernest Dempsey - Free Book Online

up when he found something odd cut into the stone near the right foot of the skeleton. He squinted and leaned in a little closer to get a better look.
    “You got something?” Sean asked, hovering over the spot where Tommy was looking.
    “Maybe,” he shook his head. “It’s so small I can barely see it. And the angle is awkward. It looks like ancient Hebrew, though.”
    Sean took out his phone and handed it to his friend after letting his thumbprint unlock the screen. “Take a picture of it.”
    Tommy nodded and accepted the device. He gently dipped his hand into the box and pressed the button. The flash seared their vision for a second, blasting a blinding cloud of bright white through the chamber. Tommy looked at the image on the screen. “Got it,” he said. “There’s something else near the other foot. I’m going to take a picture of that too.”
    As he leaned in, he realized that the writing had been placed in a similar fashion, but the symbols were different. He took another picture and then handed the device back to Sean.
    “What do you think?”
    Sean studied each image for a moment. “Not sure. It’s definitely some variation of ancient Hebrew or Aramaic. Karem?”
    He passed the phone to their driver, who took a quick look. He slowly shook his head. “I have seen this before, but I would need a little time to analyze it and come up with a translation.”
    “Maybe we should send it to the kids,” Sean suggested.
    Tommy nodded. “Good idea.”
     

6
    Dubai
     
    Mamoud ran his fingers along the edge of the ancient tablet. He sat at the end of a long dining table. Made from English oak, it had been imported years ago by his father. When Mamoud moved into the coastal mansion, he’d brought it with him. The stone tablet rested safely on a satin towel so as not to scratch the expensive table’s surface. His finger moved from the outer edge of the stone to the inner lines and shapes. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he was quite sure of what it would lead him to.
    The man at the other end of the table seemed bent on not giving him the interpretations Mamoud required.
    “Are you familiar with some of the ancient torture methods of King Xerxes of Persia, Doctor?”
    The older man opposite him trembled in his seat. His long gray beard looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in over a year. The skin on his balding head was tanned both from weeks of being in the sun and a lifetime of work that kept him outdoors. His wireframe glasses rested atop a broad, almost droopy nose. Wrinkles above both cheeks also belied his age. The eyes, however, were keen and fierce. While his body trembled, the greenish-brown orbs told a different story. Two guards stood directly behind Nehem Ben Asher. One of them was Sharouf.
    “I am familiar with much in regards to history, Mamoud. Though I prefer not to study such barbaric traditions as that.” His voice was even and sharp.
    Mamoud reached out and picked up a small silver cup. He put it to his lips and took a long sip of the hot tea. “That’s a shame. They were truly quite adept at the art of inflicting pain on their prisoners. My ancestors come from a line that goes all the way back to Xerxes himself.”
    “All of our lines intersect at one point or another, Mamoud. What is your point?”
    The young Arab ignored the insolence, instead appreciating the man’s boldness. “I like how you are direct and to the point. That must be the scientist in you.”
    “I see no reason to be otherwise,” Nehem said defiantly.
    “Nor do I, Doctor, which is why I must ask you again why you won’t do as my man asks.”
    Nehem took in a deep breath and tilted his head back. “The relics you seek belong to the kingdom of Israel. No one else. Even in the hands of the Israeli government, those objects could be of great danger to the world. They can only be given to the most careful and trustworthy individuals whose hearts are as pure as snow.”
    Mamoud raised an eyebrow and