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  He sighed. "It really would have been nicer to get a ride down to Dogubayazit," he said to himself. "But what the heck. A job's a job."

  He dialed another number on the satellite phone.

  "Whittaker here. It's done." He listened for a moment. "Survivors? No way. That baby went up like the Fourth of July."

  As Whittaker started trudging down the trail toward Dogubayazit, the charred remains of the Huey sank deeper into the snow lining the side of the gorge, sending a cascade of rocks rattling down into the abyss. Thirty yards away, Vern Peterson lifted his head and opened his eyes. He tried to turn his head to see if Bayer or Lundquist had managed to jump in time, but he knew in his heart they had perished in the fireball. It was the sixth sense of a combat veteran that had saved him--and only by a hair's breadth.

  He fell back into the snow again and closed his eyes. His thoughts turned to Vietnam. He imagined he was lying in a rice paddy, trying to keep still to conserve energy. Waiting for them to send another chopper to get him.

  But this was Mount Ararat.

  Who was going to save him now?

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  FORTY-SIX

  AZGADIAN STOPPED IN HIS TRACKS when he heard the noise. He had lived on Ararat from the time he was a small boy and had become accustomed to the sounds of the mountain. But that sound was different. It wasn't a rock or snow avalanche. It was a sound he had never heard before.

  Still, he instinctively knew what it was.

  He looked in the direction of the echoing boom but could see nothing. Then he caught sight of what looked like smoke in the distance, toward the gorge.

  He had seen the helicopter fly toward Camp 2 and then toward the gorge as he was climbing to the ark by a different route. Surely if it had fallen into the gorge, no one could have survived.

  Azgadian quickened his pace. He wasn't far from the plateau at the bottom of the valley below the ark. Soon

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  he reached the level ground and looked up at the ark. He could see no one, but something didn't feel right.

  He was about halfway to the ark when his sharp eyes detected movement in the snowfield above it. He squinted at the sea of white. Then he saw someone in a white polar outfit zigzagging up the steep slope. What is he doing up there? An avalanche could be set off at any time. He would not survive, and the ark would be covered with tons of snow.

  Soon Azgadian reached the base of the ark and climbed up the snowbank before stepping onto the roof. He glanced up the hill above him. The man in the white suit was still moving up the snowfield.

  Azgadian reached into his pack and pulled out a flashlight. He climbed through one of the windows and disappeared into the ark. He paused for a moment and listened. Everything was silent except for his breathing. He walked down the ramp to each floor and looked about.

  Reinhold's body was cold when he found it. Hodson's was still warm, as it lay in a cooling pool of blood. Then he looked up and saw the head.

  Gasping in shock, he made the sign of the cross and muttered an ancient prayer.

  Did the man in the white suit kill them? What evil is this?

  As he was hurrying from the room he saw the broken rail by the air shaft. He approached cautiously and shone his torch down into the blackness. At the bottom, he could see another body. He was about to turn away when he saw the man's chest moving.

  He's still alive. I've got to get him out of here before he freezes to death .

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  Azgadian climbed down to the lowest level and examined the injured man. He recognized the man who had spoken to him about the ark. With a huge effort, he hefted Murphy onto his shoulder, then carried him up to the top floor, shoving him gently out the window onto the roof. He then ran down the ramps back to the room with the wooden chest. He found Hodson's and Reinhold's rucksacks and grabbed a sleeping bag, a rope, and both ice axes before hurrying back up the ramps.

  On the roof, Azgadian again searched the snowfield above the ark. The man in the white suit was still climbing intently, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

  He was going to start an avalanche.

  Azgadian quickly tied the rope around Murphy's chest, then tossed the ice axes off the ark along with the sleeping bag. He dragged Murphy over to the edge, grabbed the rope, and began lowering him to the snow below.

  Azgadian climbed down the snowbank, took out his knife, and cut the rope into two pieces. He cut a hole on each side of the sleeping bag and ran ends of the two ropes through before tying them to the bag. Then he took the other two ends and tied each of them to an ice ax.

  He dragged Murphy over to the sleeping bag and eased him inside. He drove the two axes into the snow and pushed Murphy to the top of the snowfield. The sleeping bag slipped over the edge and started sliding down the hill. When the bag hit the end of the ropes, the ice axes held.

  Azgadian then pulled one of the ice axes out and drove it into the snow two feet below the other ax. He

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  repeated the process with the second ax. Gradually he began to lower Murphy down the valley.

  When Azgadian had reached the plateau at the bottom, he looked up at the snowfield above the ark. The man in the white suit had stopped.

  Azgadian dragged Murphy across the plateau and began to lower him down the other side of the mountain. By the time they heard the explosion and the distant rumble of the avalanche, they were safe.

  He stopped briefly to listen to the last sounds of the avalanche. He imagined the snow filling the empty ark and piling on top of it. In his heart, he knew he would never see the ark again.

  It was growing dark by the time Azgadian reached the cave. He lit his torch and placed it in a holder on the wall, then began to heat some soup on his propane stove. Soon the air in the cave began to warm. He unzipped the sleeping bag and checked Murphy's body temperature. He couldn't detect any broken bones.

  Azgadian placed several thick furs over the sleeping bag before eating his soup and a hunk of dry bread. When he had finished, his brow was creased in thought. He had some hard decisions to make. If Murphy regained consciousness during the night, he needed to get some warm liquid into him or he would surely be dead before morning.

  But he knew now the sound he had heard had been the helicopter crashing into the gorge. If anyone was still alive on that mountainside, they wouldn't be able to survive much longer without help.

  He put his hands together in prayer and asked for guidance.

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  After a few minutes he heard a noise at the entrance to the cave. As quietly as he could, he took his staff from where it was leaning against the wall and crept forward. Anyone coming in would have to bend down as they squeezed through the narrow entrance, and that would give him his chance.

  Azgadian held himself in readiness as someone pushed aside the furs sealing the entrance, then he raised the staff above his head. One more step and--

  As the staff whooshed down, he caught sight of a pale, pointed face surmounted by a wild mop of red hair.

  The face looked up at him and screamed.

  He diverted his swing just in time, the staff clattering harmlessly against the floor. It was the woman. He smiled reassuringly and held out his hand. Still trembling, Isis took it and followed him into the cave.

  Azgadian pointed down to Murphy.

  "It is good you have come. God has heard me and answered my prayers." Azgadian briefly explained to Isis about the helicopter crash and how he had found Murphy. "I must go now. Stay with him. If he wakes, he must drink. There is soup by the fire. I will be back in the morning, God willing."

  He wrapped his cloak around him and hefted his pack. He turned before slipping out of the cave. The woman was kneeling over the unconscious man, a look of infinite tenderness on her face.

  If anyone can save him , Azgadian thought, she can .

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  FORTY-SEVEN

  ISIS SPENT THE NIGHT talking gently to Murphy, praying that the sound of her
voice might wake him from the coma.

  "I'll admit it, I was more afraid of staying in that tent than of anything. I thought I'd go mad. So when the wind died down and the snow stopped, I thought I'd see how far down the mountain I could get." She laughed. "Completely crazy, I know, but I probably had lost my wits a little by then. If another blizzard had come and I'd lost my way, I can't imagine what I would have done. Anyway, it wasn't long before I saw this light up on the mountainside. At first I was terrified. I thought it might be a cave used by more of the rebels or ... or, I don't know what I thought. But something made me climb up here." Isis looked at him as his chest gently rose and fell, and she brushed away a tear. "I'm so glad I did."

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  "Me too."

  "Murphy!"

  His eyes were open and he was trying to smile.

  Isis grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it tightly between her own.

  "You're awake. Oh, thank God!"

  She was laughing and crying at the same time, then she let go of his hand and forced herself to be practical. He wasn't out of the woods yet. She went over to the fire and brought back a canteen of soup.

  Murphy started to mumble and she put a finger to his lips.

  "Don't talk. Just try to eat some of this. Azgadian told me it has healing herbs in it. He's the one who found you in the ark. He carried you back here to the cave."

  She started spooning the liquid into his mouth but he waved her hand away. "Where's Azgadian?" he asked hoarsely. "Why isn't he here?"

  She sighed. "The helicopter--there was a crash. He's gone to see if there were any survivors."

  Murphy groaned.

  "He has another cave, a bigger one, farther down the mountain nearer the gorge. When you're strong enough we're going to try and get down to it. Now shush. There's nothing we can do. Try and eat."

  Murphy lay back. He suddenly felt too weak to think, let alone speak.

  Gradually, through the night, the herbs did their work. By morning, Murphy felt as if he had a massive

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  hangover and had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, but otherwise he felt remarkably good. He was determined to get down to Azgadian's second cave to see if anyone had survived the helicopter crash.

  Two hours of strenuous hiking later, Isis spotted a wide opening in the mountainside, thirty yards or so above the trail.

  "This has to be it," she said.

  The cave entrance was only slightly larger than the one where they had spent the night, but inside it seemed huge. It was also filled with supplies. There was a small kitchen area with a propane stove, a roughly made table, and a couple of chairs. Furs were spread on the ground like rugs, and a number of curious paintings hung on the walls. They were ancient with grime but seemed to depict the building of the ark, then the ark floating on the Flood, and finally the animals being led out onto dry land, with a rainbow in the background.

  "Azgadian!" Murphy called out. "Are you here?"

  A fur was pushed aside, revealing a sleeping area. Azgadian stood, smiling.

  "It is good you are here. Your friend, she has looked after you well."

  Murphy took Isis's hand in his. "Yes, she has. But you are the one who saved me from the ark, I believe. I owe you my life."

  Azgadian bowed slightly and said nothing.

  "Were there ...?" Murphy asked hesitantly.

  Azgadian gestured for them to come. They walked over to the sleeping area and saw a figure curled up on a mattress of straw.

  It was Vern Peterson.

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  "Is he okay?" Murphy asked, kneeling down.

  "He will be. He has some bad cuts, and a sprained ankle, I think. I do not know how he survived the explosion."

  "It's a miracle," Isis said with a smile. "I think I'm beginning to believe in them."

  Just then there was a shout, followed by a peal of raucous laughter that ended in a sustained bout of coughing.

  Azgadian smiled. "I think your friend from the helicopter has woken up."

  Murphy was hugging Peterson, tears streaming down his face.

  "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you, Vern, old buddy!"

  "Likewise," said Peterson, before subsiding into another fit of coughing.

  Murphy waited until his friend was breathing easier. "So what happened, Vern? Are you the only one who made it?"

  Peterson nodded sadly. "We were on our way down the mountain and Whittaker asked me to put her down so he could take some more pictures. We were talking on the satellite phones, and something he said just didn't seem right. Then he took out some sort of control box and I guess my instincts just took over. I tried to take the chopper down into the gorge so an electronic signal wouldn't reach it, but I figured it was going to be too late and I just jumped." His voice choked with emotion. "There wasn't time to explain to Bayer and Lundquist. I was hoping they'd just follow me out, but I guess they ..." He couldn't go on.

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  Murphy's jaw was clenched in anger. "Whittaker . I was looking in the wrong place the whole time."

  "What about the rest of them?" Vern asked, trying to sit up. "Where are Reinhold and Hodson?"

  "Dead," said Murphy.

  "How?" asked Peterson incredulously.

  Murphy had difficulty saying the word. "Talon. He's pure evil, and he must have been tracking us all the way to the ark. He almost killed me too. I'd be buried under an avalanche right now if it wasn't for Azgadian here. Whittaker must have been working with Talon. They were trying to wipe out the whole team." He turned to Isis. "Thank God you did leave the camp and manage to find the cave. Otherwise I'll bet Talon would have come looking for you too."

  Isis paled, imagining another confrontation with Talon.

  Peterson was trying to make sense of it all. "But I don't understand, Murph. Why did this Talon guy want us all dead? What was he after?"

  "The secrets on the ark," Murphy said simply. "Reinhold figured out that the bronze plates we found were a set of instructions--instructions for what he called the Philosopher's Stone."

  Peterson looked puzzled.

  "A method for turning one element into another. Say, lead into gold. Or platinum. According to Reinhold, anyone who had the trick of making unlimited supplies of platinum would be able to control the world's energy supplies. That's a secret some people would be willing to kill for, I'd say."

  Peterson was trying to absorb what Murphy was saying.

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  "And this Talon character--he wants to take over the world?"

  Murphy looked grim. "I don't know what motivates Talon, apart from a love of killing for the sake of it. But the people he works for, yes."

  "And who the heck are they?"

  "I wish I knew, Vern. I wish I knew. All I'm certain of is that they're evil and they have to be stopped."

  Murphy stood up and turned to Azgadian, who had been listening with an interested expression. "Azgadian, you have saved my life twice now, and my friend Vern's too. We can never repay you for what you have done. But tell me, why have you chosen this strange life on the mountain? Why are you here?"

  Azgadian looked at them seriously. "It is right you should know. I am one of the guardians of the sacred ark. For centuries my family has been doing this. It goes all the way back to a monk named St. Jacob. He charged my Armenian ancestors with the task of guardianship over the Ark of Noah. My relatives and friends from the village below keep me supplied. I will watch the mountain for two years and then someone will replace me for a while. Then I will come back again."

  Vern was shaking his head in disbelief. "Now I really have heard it all."

  "Have there been many who have found the ark and taken relics?" asked Murphy.

  "A few, over the centuries," Azgadian replied. "But we were able to get most of the sacred objects back."

  "Why did you tell us where the ark could be found? Why didn't you just let us search like all the other explorers?" Isis asked.

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  Azgadian
turned to Murphy. "There was something about you and your ... sincerity. Your strength of purpose. I could tell you were not here to plunder the ark. For some years now we have been waiting for the right man to come seeking the ark. It is written that there is a coming evil in this world. It will be so wicked and ungodly that many will be led astray." He nodded to himself. "This man you call Talon. I believe he must be a part of it. We think that it is God's time to unveil the ark to remind the world of His judgment against wickedness. We think you might be the man to do this."

  Michael suddenly didn't have any words. He felt like Moses when God told him to lead the children of Israel. Moses had asked God to choose someone else. At that moment Murphy very much wanted to believe someone else, someone better and stronger than he, could be chosen.

  "But the ark is gone, Azgadian, isn't it?"

  Azgadian shook his head sadly. "The avalanche buried it under many tons of snow. But its resting place was always unstable. I believe the remains may now be lost in a crevasse created by the glacier. Perhaps no one will ever see it again."

  Isis gasped. "Then how will we prove it was there? What about the artifacts?"

  Murphy groaned. "My rucksack! I left it near the ark where Vern could pick it up. Maybe it's still there!"

  He started to make for the cave entrance, but Azgadian put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He shook his head. "It is gone," he said.

  Murphy put his head in his hands. "Then Talon has the bronze plates. He has the secret!"

  "And the proof of the ark's existence," added Isis.

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  Murphy thought for a moment. "Azgadian, you have already done so much for us. If you could look after my friend Vern here until he is well enough to return to Dogubayazit, you will have my eternal gratitude. I wish I could repay you in some way for your courage and your kindness."