Chapter One
A gloomy fog lingered in the early morning hours, unnoticed by commuters scurrying to make it to work on time. Blasting sirens disrupted the eerie calm, a harbinger of danger for the public standing on street corners waiting for the traffic light to change.
High-pitched whistles blared as several fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of the museum. The majestic edifice housed irreplaceable objects from ancient civilizations. A rare gem in an obscure region of the country became the city’s pride and joy. Its reputation gathered momentum once Dr. AnaRose Preston became the main curator of antiquities.
A woman rushed to catch up with the fire chief, who barked instructions as the firefighters carried ladders, axes, and hoses to the west side of the complex.
“I am Erica Dixon, assistant to the antiquities curator. I discovered the fire and called 9-1-1. They are renovating the annex. I smelled smoke but didn’t see any flames. We have fire sprinklers everywhere. Most of the employees haven’t arrived yet. Security did a sweep and confirmed no one was inside. Hopefully, the damage won’t be too extensive since all the furnishings had been removed before construction began.”
The fire chief nodded while speaking into the mic on his shoulder. He thanked Erica for coming forward before a police sergeant brought her to a waiting area.
Erica accepted a cup of coffee, watching the subway station across the street, expecting AnaRose’s arrival, but her view became obstructed by the gathering crowd.
When the subway car unlocked its doors, men and women dashed off the train, hurrying up the stairs, stepping onto a sidewalk filled with pedestrians taking videos with their phones as the firefighters did their job.
AnaRose kept checking her text messages for updates since Erica notified her after calling for help. She held her breath when she reached the top, expecting to see her beloved institution engulfed in flames, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed the intact structure. Organized chaos had the media reporting a worst-case scenario. The exploitative commentary mentioned the value of artifacts housed within the galleries that might be lost, irreplaceable fragments from the past destroyed by chance or arson. Headlines to keep the viewer interested.
Stretching her neck, AnaRose gazed above the masses of her fellow citizens, searching for Erica. She spotted her assistant near the main entrance and elbowed her way towards her.
“How are you?” AnaRose asked Erica. “Is anyone else here?”
“Not yet. Jo is stuck in traffic.”
AnaRose glanced at the smoke rising from the west wing. “It looks like the fire was contained there. Any clue about the cause?”
Erica shook her head and pointed to the fire chief walking towards them.
“I am Dr. AnaRose Preston. Thank you for arriving so quickly,” AnaRose greeted him. “Any ideas about how the fire started?”
“It’s too soon to know. The sprinklers extinguished the flames quickly, but there will be considerable water damage. It appears the structure is stable. A routine arson investigation should confirm any suspicious activity. You will be notified when it’s safe to return.”
AnaRose thanked the fire chief as he resumed his duties. With everything under control, the news media left, as did most people. She and Erica approached the annex to inspect the destruction without interfering with the authorities still working the scene.
“We were lucky,” AnaRose told Erica. “Set up a meeting for this afternoon with the Board. We need to go over our safety protocols.”
“At least this happened before you left for Cairo.”
“I know I’m leaving everything in your capable hands, Erica. What would I do without you?”
*
Josephine Hughes, called Jo by her friends, renewed her contract with AnaRose as her personal assistant for another year, an easy choice, given the position offered opportunities for her to pursue once she finished her graduate degree. Jo sat in traffic, mulling over her decision, ignoring the impatient motorists blowing their horns. She found human behavior fascinating in such circumstances, having driven in Los Angeles, Chicago, D.C., and New York City at rush hour. Jo learned to be patient after witnessing a disturbing road rage incident resulting in an injury. For that reason, she always left early. Unfortunately, the fire disrupted an otherwise peaceful start to the day.
A smile curled her lips when Jo remembered accompanying AnaRose to Paris at the invitation of Dr. Alexandre Boucher of the European Institute for the Conservation of Antiquities. A mouthful, to say the least, and what a ride!
When AnaRose authenticated the ring worn by Balian of Ibelin, the confirmation set off a chain of events belonging to an action movie. According to legend, Lord Balian had hidden a religious artifact in the hilt of a dagger whose signet ring opened the chamber after being inserted in its pommel. They trekked across modern-day France, looking for clues of a Templar knight assigned to bring the dagger to the Templar Temple in Paris.
Who knew about the black market, relic hunters, and the Ordo Christi?
“Not me, but what an education for a naïve young woman. And I wouldn’t change a thing,” Jo mumbled.
Book-smart and streetwise education produced different skill sets. The University taught Jo knowledge, but AnaRose’s lessons were invaluable in the game of life. Who knew the museum’s rising star, like Clark Kent and Superman, led a double life? Main curator for antiquities by day, relic hunter by night. Everything was legal and above board on the one hand, with questionable shady transactions on the other.
Jo confronted AnaRose after she successfully fought off an assailant. Her Ninja moves both fascinated and horrified Jo. AnaRose’s assistant found herself on the periphery of a dark and dangerous underworld. Jo had to choose to stay in France or return home. If she agreed to stay, it meant learning the truth, which was sometimes disturbing but exciting.
The vehicles moved slowly as Jo contemplated her future. AnaRose kept her word and shared elements unknown to the public, their co-workers, and most Board members. Jo enrolled in a martial arts school to earn a black belt like her mentor. She researched the procurements AnaRose and her archeologist parents obtained over the years, questioning AnaRose about the validity and legality of every find. She learned more in twelve months than in four years of studies.
Although solving the Templar’s Quest happened a year ago, it seemed like another lifetime to Jo. She admitted missing the adrenaline rush, being pursued by villains, and risking her life in a race against time.
Admit it, you’re bored. You want to feel exhilarated and alive. You want to return to The Underground, but this time with Frankie. You need to call him. And you want to show AnaRose’s nemesis, Jade, you have what it takes to beat her. You want more!
The sound of alarm bells ringing startled Jo. Returning to reality, she pushed her foot on the gas pedal as the cars accelerated. She parked on an adjacent street, got out of the vehicle, and assessed the situation, noticing the commotion around the west wing.
Walking rapidly, Jo met AnaRose and Erica at the annex.
“Sorry, I’m late. They closed the street. How bad is it?” Jo asked.
“It could have been worse,” Erica said.
Jo nodded as they headed towards the side entrance.
“Erica’s finalizing the Cairo trip later today. Are you coming with me?” AnaRose asked Jo.
“Yes, I’m going. Didn’t I tell you?”
“You were considering it but needed to review the contract before committing. I assume we’re still a team?”
“You bet we are,” Jo replied, walking with a lively gait through the door. “And this time, I’m ready.”
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