Creative Writing

"If my a brushing annoys you, William." Jacob drew his brush away from the broken shard of pottery. "I can let you finish this specimen . " William had been leaning close to the ground close enough to receive a spray of dirt in the eye.

"Just " William paused, rubbing his eyes. "Just, watch where your brush flings that stuff."

"Aye boys!" Called a soft voice from just above the murmured talking about the camp. William raised his head looking up toward the woman who's silhouette was cast down on them. She stood there, under the Egyptian heat, her khaki pants strapped with a heavy belt of excavation tools. Sophia's hair was tied up into a Laura Croft pony tail and a tarnished and ancient finger bone hung around her neck, vividly standing out against her black T-shirt.

"Morgan's group is giving us some trouble . we need you two up here." She leapt away from the edge of the dig site like a spooked antelope and took off at a fast sprint away towards the small group of cream colored tents.

"Morgan?" William mouthed, brushing his dark blond hair from his face as Jacob threw him a look. "Howard Morgan . " William started and as quickly as possible the two men slipped their tools back into their belts and got up without even bothering to brush off. They snatched hold of the rickety ladder and pulled themselves out of the dig site, taking off toward the tents as fast as their feet could carry them.

"Lawrence what on earth is going on?" Jacob hollered skidding to a halt by small crowd of men lingering by their camp. He trailed his arm across his forehead wiping away some of the sweat and sand. The sun was mercilessly beating down on their backs, glaring piercingly downward at them through a cloudless and blue sky.

Lawrence Preston was standing by Sophia, who was gesturing wildly. His huge dark sunglasses were hiding his expression and he looked completely nonchalant, cool, one hand at his tool belt the other one hanging limply by his side, dressed in his worn out blue jeans and black tank-top. He turned a little in Jacob's direction, chewing his mint flavored gum, a few strand of his short dark hair tipping to overshadow the rims of his glasses.. He was a good deal taller than the rest of the group and Jacob couldn't help feeling short, when he stood next to him.

"Howard Morgan and his team seem to have scrounged around for someone to fund this little thievery. They want this dig. They have enough leverage to get it too."

"Does that mean we're out?" Jacob asked trying to restrain the anger that was threatening to boil up in his throat.

"Just about, yep." Lawrence turned a weird little grin frozen on his emotionless face.

Sophia was the only one fighting for them, her eyes blazed as she starred into Howard's face.

Howard Morgan was a man so pale you would think he would crumple and burn in the intense heat, his skin was wet and shiny with layers of sun tan lotion, and his red hair blaze against his pale complection. He was much older then Lawrence, or for that matter, any of them. This was probably the reason for feeling that he was entitled to any bit of work they were able to get their hands on. Howard stood with his back to his rather burly looking team, unfazed by Sophia completely.

The older man's attention shifted from Sophia's face to the other two men, Jacob and Willaim who had arrived a behind her.

"Gentlemen... and lady " He added obviously wanting to emphasize that point for some reason. Jacob could see William clench his fist a little. "It really isn't as complicated as you are making it out to be. I'm not here to ask you to allow me to operate this dig . "

"Ah, is that what you call it?" Lawrence said in a rather sarcastic and bored tone.

Howard shot him a warning look and then continued. "I am here to tell you to politely remove yourselves from this dig-site. I don't really care how you do it, only that it gets done."His tone was oiled and sounded as thick as the sun tan lotion he was wearing. He pulled a set of folded papers from pockets and handed it to Sophia rather smugly. She took them, her hands shaking a little, mostly from anger.

Lawrence scoffed before Sophia had even finished unfolding the papers, he shrugged and immediately turned, walking away through the camp toward his tent. William hesitated and waited until Sophia finished skimming the page. He shifted a little to one foot, leaning close to her.

"Pack up then, Soph?" he questioned in an undertone, throwing Howard and his team a wary look.

She didn't nail him for calling her that, instead she turned nodding a little, handing the papers back to Howard, before heading off back toward their camp. William trotted after her not wanting to be left alone with Howard's team of vultures.

Jacob shot a furious glare at Howard. "I'm waiting for the day when you actually find your own sandbox to dig in, instead of buying everyone else's." Howard's smile faltered slightly but Jacob didn't linger heading off back towards camp with the rest of his team, just in time to hear Sophia yelling.

"Thanks, Lawrence for your unwavering support back there!" Sophia yelled, exiting her tent and throwing some of her clothes into her open suitcase. She was furious, her pony tail now hanging loose, strands of her dark brown hair escaping it to hang across her face.

"What was I supposed to do? Yell at them? Tell them to turn around and leave? Howard doesn't show up on our ground unless he knows he can win the fight, he doesn't show up without authorization that we can't even begin to argue with." Lawrence was already starting to roll up his tent, in just as much of a fiery mood as Sophia, just not showing it.

"You're a complete jerk. Your justifying why you left me to face those men, you didn't even attempt to make me feel as though I weren't the only one up there willing to do anything about it, even if there was nothing I could do. That's what teams DO, Lawrence maybe you should learn that before you wind up destroying this one!"

Lawrence paused in his attempt to fold up his tent, standing up and brushing the sand from his jeans. "Soph . " the steady rhythm and beat from Jacob's boom box resonated around the area.

"What!" She snapped, locking her suitcase shut and dragging some of her other bags out of the tent entrance before beginning to tug at its frame.

Sophia didn't say anything, still huffing and puffing as she folded her tent, not looking at him, she didn't want to see how calm he looked, it always made her feel as though she were too emotional.. too sensitive.

"A call?" William never seemed to miss a word, which was distinctly uncomfortable when anyone was attempting to have a private conversation. William set some of his equipment down in the sand and crossed his arms, a regular gesture of apprehension, raising his eyebrows. His blond hair fell rather untidily into his piercingly blue eyes as he looked back and forth between Sophia and Lawrence with a sudden touch of curiousity.

Lawrence lowered his head a little as he removed his glasses, his deep brown eyes fixing the now attentive Sophia and William with an purposeful look. "A call from Harvard . with permission of the Vatican to . "

"What? You got a call from where?" Jacob piped up, the volume on the boom box shot from 40 to 4 in a matter of second, as the curly haired man sprang from his tent, obviously having caught a snatch from the conversation.

Lawrence paused a moment, shaking his head as Jacob joined the other two. He didn't like feeling as though they were hanging on his every word. He cleared his throat loudly and rubbed the back of his neck before continuing. "Harvard wants us to look into "The Venetian Map" They want to launch an expedition to find one of the most Holy Relics of our History."

William's jaw dropped, quickly uncrossing his arms stepping forward. "THEE Venetian map? The map that Harvard analyzed a few years back? The one that the scientific community is trying to dismiss as a fake?"

"If the scientific community WEREN'T trying to dismiss it as a fake, I would KNOW it WAS a fake." Jacob commented rather sarcastically. Jacob never showed his excitement well, especially on such short notice, he needed time to figure out how to react and the easiest reaction would be to snap some sharp remark. Seeing as the four of them were always joking about egotistical atheistic scientist it wasn't a leap for him to latch onto it.

"What is the catch?" Sophia asked shakily her voice trying to conceal her amazement to little nor no effect. Her light brown eyes scanned Lawrence's face frantically waiting for him to announce that it was all a joke, that they should get back to letting Howard walk all over them.

"The catch is we aren't the only lucky winners." Lawrence continued with a faint sigh. His team grew silent, with baited breath they waiting for him to speak. Obviously, by his demeanor they, all assumed he was about to tell them that Howard Morgan had been hired to run parallel. "Emery's team is signed on, and we got a young priest with us . "

"That's it?" Williams usual response to anything that didn't include a painful and torturous death by tribal ritual, cannibalism, or in this case, Howard Morgan.

"David Emery?" Sophia was standing very still her expression wavering somewhere between apprehension, and relief. Her shoulders relaxed a little her expression less taut.

"Awww . heck." Jacob muttered slapping a hand to his forehead. "The loser who ran over Freya Mayhem with his old tin Junker?"

William snorted with laughter. Sophia on the other hand seemed less amused. "That cat was fifteen years old, slunk around campus, and slept under peoples cars . she had it coming for her." Sophia turned back to Lawrence urgently. "I didn't know he got into this business."

"Sure did, rustled himself up some money, and a decent team. He's been digging up Mayan silverware ever since."

Sophia Illantra finally cracked a smile, shaking her head. "Darn you Lawrence Preston. You could have told me before I made a complete fool of myself in front of Morgan."

Lawrence, spun his sunglasses in his fingers raising an eyebrow with a rather mischievous smile. "Awww I didn't know that you were so worried about keeping a good impression in front of Howard."

"How do I look?" Asked Sophia, fussing with her braid. She couldn't seem to stand still, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet.

Lawrence glanced at Sophia in her washed denim jacket and light blue jeans, paired with dark brown combat boots.

"In a matter of speaking, I am Laura Croft... just without the million dollar mansion." She sighed, continuing to sway back and forth with apprehension.

Lawrence lifted his sunglasses slightly to get a good look at the small group of people that were headed in their direction. A tourist center was an odd place to meet on the border of Connecticut, but then he hadn't expected anything fancy. He would have been thoroughly annoyed if there had been suites and ties involved.

Keadan was on the smaller side, like Jacob but far more fragile looking. He had bright blue eyes and deep brown hair that was almost black, even in direct sunlight. He looked as though he had spent most of his years plotting courses and reading books rather than spending time out in the broiling sun. He was pale, the curvature of his jaw very pronounced still looking more like college student, like William. He had an aloof air about him, even as he was walking, it was almost a strut. Lawrence felt a sinking feeling in his chest, he really didn't need someone whom assumed he were better than the rest of them.

Jacob sniffed loudly, tearing open a Twizzler package with his teeth loudly, causing the three of his other team members to turn in his direction. William held out his hand expectantly, shifting the messenger bag on his shoulder, shrugging his deep brown leather jacket once. Jacob slapped a Twizzler in his hand, and he took it casually.

Keadan was flanked by four others, three of his own, and another whom judging by his black solemn attire, must have been the priest. Keadan's team members were an odd group, to his left was a tall thin man whom was dressed as though he was color blind, his hair was swept up in a mess of deep brown, His neon green shirt clashed horribly with his pin striped, blue and white jacket that his red and blue biking gloves set off so brilliantly. To Keadan's right was a short blond woman in dark shades, tiny gold hooped earings, and dressed in a startlingly scarlet turtleneck that was extremely flattering on her. Behind Keadan was a partially balding man with deep chocolate skin, he had receding gray hair and wore a fine pair of wire rimmed glasses, by far the oldest of their two groups.

William let out a faint whistle, obviously eyeing the very pretty blond and Lawrence could hardly refrain a snort of laughter as the two teams converged.

"Keadan." Lawrence nodded, removing his shades and extending his hand, he had expected the younger man to respond by giving his hand a furtive once over before actually touching it, but Keadan surprised him by breaking into a warm and quite submissive smile taking his hand and shaking it quite enthusiasticly. "Lawrence, good to see you again!"

At this distance it was evident that the smaller man was brimming with excitement. "And you Sophia, William, and Jacob." He nodded to each of them. Jacob chewed on the end of the Twizzler obviously not impressed.

Kaeden's smile faltered for an instant but he seemed to shrug Jacob off. "Lawrence, Sophia, William, and Jacob. This is Christen, Ryan, and Doctor Darius."

Lawrence inclined his head politely as Sophia shook the Doctor's hand respectfully.

"Christen who?" William asked wiping off his hands on the front of his jacket and extending his hand to the blond woman. She smiled just slightly, raising her dark shades so that they perched on her head, revealing her ethereal blue eyes. "I could say that same for you, sir." she says laughing appreciatively, shaking his hand.

Christen blinked once not having expected such a sharp accusation, but immediately she seemed to swell with indignation. "As a matter of fact I am an anthropologist and no, I applied for this job professionally. Keadan is my employer not my boyfriend." she stated firmly.

Lawrence turned to the thin and gangly man next to Doctor Darius and raised his eyebrows. "You a specialist of anything in particular? Ancient clothing or pottery or?"

The Ryan's eyes narrowed. "I'm a computer specialist, mate. You keep your ancient clothing, dry old bones and broken pieces of pottery, I'll run all the technological stuff of the twenty first century"

"Really? You people hardly seem to know what that is." Ryan had a distinctly British accent that you wouldn't have expected from his shabby American appearance.

Just when the tension was rising between the two teams the fourth stranger made himself known. In his black, white collared shirt and pressed pants he stepped forward between the groups separating them much like a shepherd would sheep. He paused his hands clasped behind his back, a small and plain wooden cross dangling on a black thread around his neck, swinging from side to side across his chest.

"It seems now would be the time to introduce myself properly to all of you, as I did not have the chance to do so previously." he began his voice infinitely calm, so calm that the moment he spoke he seemed to settle them all. "My name, is Father Nikolaj Rayner" He paused between Keadan and Lawrence. "And I was selected to accompany you all in this expedition. I was not keen on receiving this honor at first, I did not feel elect enough to carry the weight. May I remind you that we will be searching for one of the most treasured and sought after Holy Relics of history. This is not about personal endeavors or individual vendettas, nor is it about dusty grudges and competition. I ask you to put these aside, you were chosen specifically because of your belief, because of your religion, because of your skill. This is more than mortal choosing. God's plan included this, and we should respect that."

Father Nikolaj was tall, composed, and thin. He had gray eyes and short, light brown hair that was almost a deep gold in color. His face was particularly angled and sharp, regardless of his collected composition you couldn't help but feel he might suddenly fly at you talons extended, like a falcon or an eagle, majestic but dangerous.

"Now," Father Nikolaj began reaching into his black jacket and pulling from it a folded sheet of paper. "This is a copy of the Map itself. I have several of them, enough encase we should loose or destroy any of them." he slipped the map back into his jacket cooly. "Some of my fellow brothers will meet us once we arrive in Italy. From there we will travel to Jerusalem where we will begin our search."

"What do you think of the priest?" Asked Sophia in an undertone to Lawrence. Jacob made an audible choking sound as they felt the plane shift beneath them. Lawrence leaned across Sophia to glance out the window briefly.

Sophia cleared her throat, leaning back in her chair a little because he was thoroughly invading her personal space.

"I think he is fast becoming a valuable asset to the team. We should drag one along with us everywhere." Lawrence muttered, watching the white clouds beneath them drift by like snow blanketed valleys.

"That's extremely disrespectful, Lawrence." Sophia slid her arm up to his chest and deliberately shoved him back into his seat a bit harder than intended.

Lawrence wheezed. "Okay, look. I think he is a great man for the job. More than I expected." he rubbed his chest as Sophia continued to penetrate him with her piercing glare.

"What do you want me to say? Having a priest with us has its ups and downs. If something goes wrong we are going to have him breathing down our necks, expecting us not to lose our tempers and swear. He'll probably be patrolling our camps at night and make us eat fish on Friday or something. I'm a Catholic, Sophia, but I am not perfect."

Lawrence leaned out of his seat a little, turning to glance in the direction of Father Nikolaj, who was now deep in conversation with Doctor Darius, their voices lowered. Whatever it was they were talking about appeared to be deeply engaging.

"Somehow" Lawrence hissed, leaning back into his chair again. "I get the impression."

When they landed in Italy it was raining, soaking them in a torrential downpour. Their heavy suitcases wheeled along behind them, kicking up water. Father Nikolaj was the only one with a very small bag light enough to carry in one hand, his stride unbroken by the weather, his funeralistic umbrella tilted against the wind.

William slipped under Sophia's umbrella his sopping blond hair sticking to his forehead causing him to shake it from his eyes.

Jacob merely walked, carrying both huge suitcases, stalking through the rain as though it didn't phase him in the slightest. Accompanying him was Lawrence wearing his ever present sunglasses, even in this cloudy weather, they hid something of his expression from everyone. The rain slicked back his dark hair and steamed down his brow and neck, drenching his black tanktop and buckskin leather jacket.

Everyone else struggled against the wind with mismatching umbrellas and exceptionally weighty luggage.

When they entered the airport they were greeted by several older priests who welcomed them politely and took Father Nikolaj aside, speaking to him in private. The rest of them shivered in their boots, waiting for the priest to return.

"This is stark mad." Jacob commented miserably, dropping his suitcases to the ground. "We haven't even seen this map yet."

"Just because we haven't seen in doesn't mean we won't" Came the baritone voice of Doctor Darius. He alone of them all seemed to be of cheerful demeanor.

Christen brushed a strand of her wet hair from her face looking wretchedly uncomfortable. "Why exactly are we meeting the priests here? If it is so important that we fly to Italy before we fly to Jerusalem, wouldn't it be important enough for them to meet us there?" She questioned dully.

"Maybe we are here for a different reason all together." Lawrence said crossing his arms across his chest and eyeing the group of priests suspiciously. "They don't look too happy with Father Nikolaj if you ask me."

Father Nikolaj was no doubt arguing with one of the priests, tranquilly, but none the less it was an argument. The other priests glanced toward the two wet teams and then back towards Father Nikolaj.

"A decent point. I hope there isn't some question as to wether the Vatican actually is funding this expedition." Keadan closed his umbrella slowly, giving it a shake, his movements rather stiff. He was watching the priests attentively as well. He set the tip of his umbrella to the ground cautiously and almost soundlessly as though hoping to overhear some part of the conversation.

"If you ask me, that spear has got a curse on it." Ryan yawned widely covering his mouth with one hand. "That's the one that you hold and you won't die, but if you let it go your death will follow soon after. Why would anyone try to find it to begin with. It's best left alone."

"It's a priceless artifact of religious and historical value, those are legends, who knows if it can really do as they say. The True Cross can heal. That's been proven. The spear... well now, that is a different story." William added, pulling his jacket around himself tighter.

At last Father Nikolaj returned to them his expression grim, a certain shadow seemed to have passed over his face inflicting it with something rather somber. "There is a problem." When everyone remained still and silent he continued quietly at first. "The Vatican will fund this expedition but we don't get till summer, as planned. We have a month. One month that's all."

"What?" Lawrence snapped, whatever his glasses were hiding now must have been a quick sparked fury. "Your kidding us. That's enough to get situated!"

Father Nikolaj cut him off. "I am aware that this was not as much time as you expected. I expected more myself. But this is not the first of the expeditions launched to find this artifact and neither will it be the last. There were five before this one. Yes we have a map. But over the centuries the spear has been written to have switched hands numerous times. Whether these accounts are true or false this must be taken into account. This map may lead to nothing. The Spear might already have been moved."

"That is no excuse for the time cut." Keadan voiced, obviously distressed at this, becoming rigid, his brow furrowed with alarms and disappointment.

"Well go back there and bargain for more then..... Father." Jacob started his voice near a shout.

"The map directs us toward a Monastery on the outskirts of Jerusalem. It shouldn't take us more than a month to search the place and follow some of the map's details."

"That means the entire thing is going to be rushed, we might overlook something vital." Sophia folded up her umbrella with a snap. "How many floors does the monastery have? What about trap doors and those convenient hidden rooms that old buildings always seemed to have. It can't obviously be hiding in plain sight or someone would have found it by now."

"One month though?" Christen complained. "It takes us two months to search and sweep out a typical two roomed house and some broken pieces of crudely designed pottery. Your talking about a monastery, no doubt situated on some remote mountain, we are talking about hundreds or rooms."

"That is why we hired the best." Father Nikolaj began extending his hand as though he too might seek to silence the sea of questions. "Knowing now that you have only one month to achieve this near impossible goal, it is up to you to determine the best locations to search in the monastery. Split up if need be, that way you might search the eight most likely locations."

"I'm a computer tech what good will I be in this situation other than to provide you with some digital imagery. I need to work with a partner." Ryan proclaimed rather dully.

William looked desperately around. "I'm a mathematician, I know the basics in archeology but..."

"You're a problem solver then." Keadan pointed out. "Your good at logic. Perhaps you can help narrow down our choices. Father Nikolaj is correct, we are all here for a reason. What do we have here? Linguists, anthropologists, botanists, geologists, mineralogists, petrologists, historians, astronomers, mathematicians, architects, and psychologists. We have all the skills needed to figure out just about any problem we should encounter, as long as we utilize our resources."

"Look at that view...." sighed Cristen tucking a wild strand of blond hair from her pale face, the wind blowing back her cranberry coat, she shivered just slightly clasping her scarf. Lawrence actually managed to take of his sunglasses starring at the beautiful and ancient city spread out before them with an intensity that looked as though he was scowling.

"I can't believe we only have a month here..." Jacobs voice disturbed the other's reverie, caused them to tear their eyes away from the breathtaking sight back to the Monastery, ominous and looming, perched above.

"Which brings me back to the conclusion that we couldn't find a broken spear inside that place in a years time, let alone a month." Jacob continued, crossing his arms and marching towards it as though he hoped to frighten it off by the mere flash of his eyes.

One by one the few standing by the cliff edge followed him, thoroughly disheartened. The building was massive, the doors themselves where heavy with bolts and iron molding, entering it was like walking into something of a castle, a humble castle. Instead of the elaborately designed furniture, there were plain wooden chairs and sturdy tables and desks. The walls rose on either side of them and disappeared into a darkened ceiling.

"Did you talk to some of the... errr... monks here, Father?" Jacob asked shiftily to Father Nikolaj his voice rebounding about the walls a dozen or so times before fading.

"Yes..." Father Nikolaj offered a cool smile not looking about, as he handed them a manilla folder each. They took them uneasily, flipping them open, many of the group still casting their surroundings curious looks.

"Yes..." Again, Father Nikolaj had this ever calm demeanor about his person. "It took us a few years pouring over it to the recognize what exactly this was a map of. At first glance you can all assess that it is a building of some sort. Ancient architecture is not recorded in computer archives where data can be compared, not all of ancient architecture in any case. We had the best man on the case, Robert Anchrize. Some of you might be familiar with that name."

Keadan inhaled a little and leaned forward obviously more intently interested, the other seemed a little confused.

"In any case, as it turned out this is the most likely ancient and regularly undisturbed sanctuary that matched this architecture. Some of the rooms have been filled in, which is cause for some of the extra rooms on the map, and some modern changes have been made, obviously. Anchrize seemed absolutely certain that there was no other similar make that would have been an ideal place to keep the Holy Lance."

"Fun, fun, fun..." Ryan trilled in his distinctly foreign accent. "This place only has what? Fifty stories..." he flipped wildly through the pages of scanned map, before snapping it shut. "Easy as pi."

"When I was younger... I never thought pi was easy." Jacob commented, scrutinizing Ryan beneath dark brows.

William snickered. Sophia leaned forward scanning the contents of her folder as though she thought a more thorough examination and a closer perspective might give up its secrets. "Well... the catacombs are usually the safest place to keep your valuables, but also one of the first places a team would regularly look when searching for something of this sort. Did the team that The Vatican hired before ever search this place?"

"Indeed, the catacombs were thoroughly searched. Back then, however this wasn't the only choice of sanctuary, Anchrize had them in Bethlehem on a hunch."

"Ohhh lovely... on a hunch." William whistled. "Now we are back here on a hunch. Who is this Anchrize anyway?"

Nobody seemed inclined to answer that question. So he went back to scanning the map. "Well there are nine floors here. And Nine of us, if we pair up as best we can, excluding Father Nikolaj, we would be able to cover four floors, for about a week and a half, then cover the next four floors in a week and a half, and the last floor we all search together."

"No way, mate. Forget it. Two people searching a whole floor? Even if we timed it perfectly, some floor have more rooms don't they upping the chances?" Ryan objected.

William shook his head. "Sorry, mate" He smiled slightly. "It was a suggestion. Some floors have more bricks too."

"Enough you two..." Lawrence snapped his fingers. "Alright, Keadan you take your team and..."

Father Nikolaj stepped in at that exact moment. "No... I don't think so, Preston. This is not a competition. Keadan you take Sophia, Doctor Darius, and William. Preston you take Cristen, Jacob and Ryan."

"Your kidding..." Lawrence spun around on Father Nikolaj obviously upset. "Sophia is my best mate, Keadan's got Doctor Darius, and William is my math genius. I don't know how to work with De Luca or Ryan..."

"This isn't a competition, if your going to split, that is how it will work, but if you would like to work together.. Well then, you get Sophia and William."

Lawrence starred at Father Nikolaj long and hard for several minutes before finally giving in.

"Right." William stated firmly, snapping open his folder again in the uncomfortable silence. "Well then if we don't want to sweep all the floors, let try and consider how they would have thought. 3 is a multiple of nine, three is also the Holy Trinity..."

Doctor Darius opened his folder as well, adjusting his wire rimmed glasses. "Consider however, numbers and riddles may have figured into the initial hiding of the Spear, but should there have been others in search of it, such as the Germans during World War II, the spear may have been moved in a great deal of haste, and never have been moved back."

"Thanks.." William ran his fingers through his dark blond hair and shook his head furiously. "That is exactly what we needed. So we are looking for hasty places?"

The weeks were tedious and long, filled with hours of pouring over, and comparing aspects of the map. A few times they seemed to have gotten close to discovery. When Ryan fell through a tapestry revealing a hidden staircase, they were overjoyed. It revealed a room filled with ancient and rolled rugs, and intricately designed vases, old books, and scrolls. Though this provided some momentary enthusiasm it produced nothing in relation to the Spear.

William suggested that the building really had twelve floors, nine reaching upward and three more beneath the catacombs. Ryan proved that there was a hollow space under the catacomb floor, using his sonar devices, but they were unsuccessful in finding a route downward, and did not have access to drills. The cramped catacombs were hardly a place to fit equipment. They finally abandoned that concept and dismissed the hollow space, as nothing more than a hollow space, since the results of the sonar were fuzzy and unrevealing elsewhere in the tomb.

They went back to regularly searching under every loose brick, and ever piece of art work. The Monks living at the monastery were gracious and as helpful as they could be. Providing food and encouraging the team to join them for morning and evenings masses. Even though they had such limited time, there was always time for God, and since he was the one that would decide the fate of their goal, and searching could only take you so far, they prayed in the chances they had.

Lawrence sat in a pew in the dim lighting of the chapel, starring at a painting of Christ hanging on the cross, his head leaning on one shoulder his eyes closed in an ever sorrowful expression. Blood pouring from the wound in his side, caught in chalices by the angels at his feet.

"I know your there, God." He began under his breath lowering his head looking at the steps of the alter. "I know You can hear me, and I know that before I speak You already know what I'll say... but I'll say it none the less. This was Your Son, and there is some matter of disrespect in seeking a tool of His Crucifixion for no greater reason than we want to have it for our own. It seems humanity has done that with all the gifts you have left us, and sometimes I think it's better when we never get what we want." Lawrence exhaled deeply. "Whatever You choose, God. I trust in You're judgment completely."

He bowed his head again then genuflected and left the chapel, running face to face with Sophia just outside.

"Hey Lawrence. I was just about to go in and pray for Devine intervention, or did you double up for us?" She smiled to hide her tired and slightly disappointed expression. "The weeks fly by as if someone turned the clock ahead on purpose, six days more and we'll be back in Egypt picking away at utensils and glorified geraniums." Her voice faltered a little.

Lawrence reached forward taking her by the shoulder, just like he had so often done back in college, back when things had been about research papers and language classes. He hadn't done so in years, something always stopped him. Her shoulder were more muscled than they had been in the day when she merely carried books. "Sophia..." He said quietly, walking with her back towards the halls, you could vaguely here conversation somewhere just upstairs, the echoes sounded far off and distant. "Six days, or another six months. If we are meant to find it. We will. If we only had a day, and it was God's plan that we find it... we would."

"You? Preaching?" She laughed a little, reaching up and wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist. "You still surprise me sometimes, Lawrence."

"Awww... me. I'm nothing special. Just a regular awesome guy with an incredible team... member." He finished off with a theatrical smirk.

"I hope your not talking about Jacob... He is less than incredible." Sophia raised her eyebrows at him.

"Shhhh... not too loud." Lawrence laughed, squeezed her shoulder and let go of her, climbing the stairs. "Best remind those confused people what they are actually supposed to be doing, they sound like their having a party.."

"Keadan, how did YOUR sock, get in my suitcase?" Ryan was emptying the contents of his suitcase onto the entrance hall floor. None of his clothes looked as though they matched, they were neon green, and indigo blue, striped and zigzagged.

William stood there stunned, watching purple socks and red socks go flying. "Your kidding me, who blew up your fashion sense? The Geek Squad?"

Keadan's face morphed from alarm to disgust. "I don't have orange and violet socks... thank you very much."

Lawrence was sitting cross-legged on his suitcase his chin cupped in one hand, glaring intently at the shards of the map, nestled in the manilla folder, his sunglasses perched on his brow.

"Doesn't matter now." Jacob muttered, dragging his luggage to a standstill. "You can look at that map till judgement day and it won't suddenly reveal to you the location of the Spear."

"Says you." But Lawrence couldn't stop starring into it, their plane was due to leave in another two hours and they needed to leave in a few minutes to make sure they were on time. From the corner of his eyes he saw Keadan approach him steadily, obviously not wanting do disturb him.

"Lawrence." Keadan began his voice wavering just slightly. "I know, we haven't always seen eye to eye. Not usually, in any case. But I was curious..." Keadan's mannerisms were slightly stiff as usual. He came around behind Lawrence and cleared his throat. "I was thinking, about... about how all this searching has lead to nothing, that perhaps God never planned for us to find the spear, and then I thought... maybe we were just over-thinking it. Maybe it would take someone, to look at the situation in an entirely pure and untainted way to see what we can't."

Lawrence furrowed his brow, his dark brown eyes narrowing as they flicked in Keadan's direction. "Your suggesting that its right in front of our face?"

Doctor Darius looked up from his seat in a simple wooden chair, he too absorbed in the study of the map. "As in, Mr. Keadan, in a perfectly sensible place rather than hidden?"

Cristen's blue eyes widened at the notion, after all they were left with little or no choice. "But we checked the library the records, and the rooms filled with ancient weaponry, I honestly don't think there could be a plainer place."

Lawrence raised his eyes slowly a dawning realization flooding over him as though he were submerged in chilling ice. "The map showed the entire building, almost like a blueprint, everything, every room except one, and we never searched that one, because there is hardly anything to search."

"What? The Water closet?" Ryan piped up, looking slightly disturbed. "It can't be in the bloody plumbing, mate."

Father Nikolaj was descending the staircase, his tightly wrapped umbrella in one hand, his shiny and small black leather suitcase in the other. "That isn't quite accurate, I searched the chapel. Floor to ceiling, there is no Spear."

Lawrence faltered for a moment, considered, and then his shoulders fell a little. "Thank you, Father. For a moment I actually thought we were on to something."

William cleared his throat loudly. "That you may be, Lawrence, Father Nikolaj did search the chapel..." The younger man paused as if for effect, and for a moment everyone looked to him. "But for a spear."

The burning Egyptian hung in the parched sky like a trillion-watt bulb threatening to scorch the skin and dry out the freshly exposed houses to mummified and dusty skeletons. Howard Morgan sat in his folding chair under his tent, his red hair greasy with suntan lotion, his pale complexion scarred with flaming red burns even despite his layered protection. He held a light beer in one hand, staring out at the dig-site. He had snatched this burnt crisp of land from Preston and Myle's hands. It was his turf now, but heaven was it hot.

He picked up a scrunched up paper and fanned himself with it, trying to ignore the sting of his sunburn. In the distance he could hear the rumbling and ever approaching sound of tires kicking up sprays of dirt. He leaned back in his chair, still fanning himself, wondering where the youngsters were off to now, when he received news he was going to pay them a visit. They may have found something a bit more pricy then an extensive amount of broken pottery.

The sound of car doors slamming sent his attention darting to the khaki canvas of his tent, which ruffled in the stale wind but provided him no better view of the cars beyond. Setting his beer glass on the table he pulled himself to his feet slowly, dragging himself to the door to try and get a better look at who had just arrived.

Stepping out into the seared dirt outside he caught a most peculiar and unexpected sight. Lawrence Preston himself, a huge pack slung over his shoulder, his wide-glasses covering half his face from view, his dark brown hair swept up into a wild mess, striding strait in his direction.

Following in his wake was; Sophia, her hair tied tightly back from her face into a thick pony-tail a pair of slender sunglasses perched in the ridge of her nose, William, the blonde boy genius who never seemed to get so much as a tan, and the burly and incompetent Jacob. Howard swallowed, they had to be kidding. He rather uncertainly shuffled forward to meet them tucking in his shirt as he walked.

Lawrence drew to a relaxed halt in front of the little red-haired man. "Morgan, pleasure..." he said in a voice that suggested a yawn might be in order. He knew Howard would be infuriated at that tone.

Howard Morgan straitened a little at the response. "Preston, what the devil? I thought you were off dusting shrunken heads with that prissy friend of yours. What was his name? Keadan?"

"Yeah mmhmmm..." Lawrence was shuffling around in his pockets for something he seemed to have misplaced. William tapped a file on his shoulder and Lawrence took it from him, and passed it forward to Howard.

Howard took it flipping it open and glancing down at it briefly. "By who's authority?"

Sophia smirked at Lawrence and looked to Howard. "Lets say, by a higher power's... do you need his phone number? We have it on speed dial."

"Yeah..." Lawrence rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over Morgan's little army of tents. "Though, as you can see you are needed in fact... at one particular Mayan site... now that you mention it. Keadan told me he doesn't mind the trouble."

Howard Morgan felt his face grow red, perhaps his suntan blended in for a moment. "What did you do? These people just don't fork out favors to anyone..."

Lawrence smiled warmly at the older man. "It's classified by one of the oldest governments of the known world. If you have a problem with that, I would suggest bringing it up with the lead Man."