THE PILATE SCROLL
BOOK BLURB:
A quest to save the world . . . a secret that could change it. Forever.
Kadie Jenkins is a survivor. Now part of an elite group of scholars and scientists, their mission is to stop an impending global terrorist threat. But when a colleague is murdered in Egypt, Kadie finds herself pitted against a foe more terrifying than the one they were trying to stop. Teaming up with a renegade pilot and her younger brother, they find themselves in a race against time, greed, and certain death. Can they uncover a 2000-year-old legend to save themselves and possibly the rest of the world?
Chapter One
Chapter 1
Port
Said, Egypt
The
Market District
Samuel
Jacobson was a dead man. Or at least he thought so. His phone call had
been erratic, anxious—almost in a panic.
“Brian,
we have to go.” Kadie Jenkins stood and slid her iPhone back in the cargo
pocket of her tan 5.11 cargo pants. She grabbed her purse and rose from the
table in the back of the tiny restaurant, dragging her nineteen-year-old
brother out before they had a chance to order their dinner. The restaurant sat
tucked between shops selling hookahs on one side and women’s clothes on the
other. The aroma of fresh bread and grilled meats dissipated, replaced by the
pungent scent of car exhaust and camel dung.
“It’s
only a fifteen-minute walk back to the hotel,” Kadie said. “I bet we can make
it in ten.”
Brian
stumbled behind her as they hurried along dusty streets. They turned into the souk,
or open-air market, the brick-laid section of the market that was
pedestrian-only this time of night. While many of the shops had their “roll-up”
metal security doors pulled down, the market bristled with life.
Vendors
waved items in their faces, children tugged on their pant legs, and beggars
held their palms up hoping for a handout. Her eyes studied everyone who came
close, gauging their intentions in a moment’s glance. She was one of only a few
women in the market not wearing a hijab, thus identifying her as a
tourist.
“Kadie
slow down,” Brian said. His breathing came deep and awkward, despite being a
regular participant in the Special Olympics.
“Sorry,
Brian. We could get a cab at the other end of the market. But by the time we
find one, describe our hotel, and negotiate a price, we could walk to the
hotel.” While she relished the exercise, she worried her pace was too much for
him. He was fit for a young man with Down syndrome, but she moved swiftly.
Their
team had been in Egypt for almost three weeks. Starting in Cairo, the small
group of seven from GDI, the Global Disease Initiative, had been scouring the
city for clues to an ancient cure. Their quest had led them from the United
States to Cairo, then to Port Said. Their four days here had not yet proven
fruitful.
The
goosebumps on her skin reminded her of Samuel’s phone call. His message was
brief yet concise: his life was in danger because he knew what they were really
searching for. What did he mean? Their team was one of four positioned across
the Middle East in search of their goal. Now, for some reason, Samuel
questioned what that was.
GDI
had been contracted by the United States government to locate an ancient cure
for an even older virus—the hantavirus. Kadie researched the topic before they
left for Egypt. Rodents generally spread it, and this strain was a particularly
virulent “Old World” virus that had proven resistant to modern medicine.
The
Central Intelligence Agency learned that ISIS weaponized the hantavirus in
aerosol form and planned to unleash it across the West. The virus was known at
the CDC to cause hemorrhagic fever with renal syndrome. Initial symptoms
include fever, chills, blurred vision, back and abdominal pain, and intense
headaches known to bring a grown man to his knees. Later, those exposed would
experience shock, low blood pressure, kidney failure, and vascular leakage—all
in all, a nasty virus to thrust upon any population. The logistics involved in
treating the virus were obvious.
The
unique thing about the “Old World” hantavirus, was that it had predominantly
appeared in Europe and Asia. GDI discovered that the virus had been eliminated
in the Middle East, which was odd, as rodents were prevalent throughout the
region.
Through
one of their many connections, GDI learned of a legendary cure developed in
ancient Israel around 30 A.D. The virus had a different name back then, but the
symptoms were the same. The cure was a simple combination of plants and
minerals. The formula was stored in a vase with Aramaic writing on the side and
lay hidden for millennia. That was why she was here. Kadie was fluent in Latin,
Greek, and Aramaic. The executive vice president for the Science and Technology
Division of GDI had contacted her personally, telling her she was “uniquely
qualified” for this job. Kadie was enthralled to join the team when the offer
came.
Samuel
was in his early sixties, and he and Kadie had struck up a friendship at the
beginning of their journey. He became her mentor and father figure,
occasionally giving her advice on what to do with her career. Samuel was the
team’s expert on carbon dating. His equipment was state-of-the-art, but other
than testing its functionality the day after they arrived, he hadn’t used it.
So, what did he discover? What did he know that was worth killing for?
Halfway
to the hotel, she mumbled something she shouldn’t have as she pulled out her
phone and dialed. Her eyes darted toward her brother.
“Do
not c-cuss,” Brian said between heavy breaths.
Brian.
Her moral compass there to steer her back on course. She squeezed her brother’s
hand. Brian always kept her grounded. What would she do when he was gone? But
he was here now, and she needed to make sure he would be safe, something she
had done for him since the day he was born.
“Sorry,
Brian. I just remembered I need to call Curt. He’s probably on his way to the
restaurant to meet us.”
“He
is probably s-still wor—king.” Brian’s eyes darted back and forth. His speech
impediment that made his ‘r’s sometimes sound like ‘w’s wasn’t nearly as bad as
it was when he was younger, and his stutter only showed up when he was nervous.
Kadie
grimaced. Curt didn’t answer his phone. He was GDI’s security man and the only
full-time employee on their team. Kadie left a message, telling him she was
sorry, but she had to leave the restaurant. They’d talk later.
Next,
she called Samuel. He didn’t answer either. She slipped her phone back in her
cargo pocket and glanced at her brother. He was doing all he could to keep up
with Kadie and avoid the distractions of the numerous shops in the marketplace.
Gasping, his jaw jutted forward, brow furrowed, and his eyes bulged. He had
been reluctant to leave the restaurant; he must be starving. She had to plead
with him to get him to budge.
“We
did not stay—for food. I am hungry,” Brian said.
“I
know. I’m sorry. I am, too.” Her eyes darted back and forth in search of
something they could eat. A few moments later she smiled. Near the end of the
market, a vendor baked and sold bread. They stopped next to the giant metal
oven that extended back into a yellowing mud-brick building. The bread rolled
out of the front like doughnuts at Krispy Kreme, and two men placed the warm
food on a rack woven out of sticks to cool. Her limited vocabulary in
conversational Arabic helped her in situations like this. Kadie bought two
loaves of Aish Baladi, an Egyptian flatbread made with whole wheat
flour, similar to a pita. Handing the bag of bread to Brian, they continued on
their way.
The
dust of the market peeled away as they rounded the corner and their hotel came
into sight. Well-lit against the black sky, it sat on the edge of the water
where the Suez Canal merged into the Mediterranean Sea. An outdoor restaurant
sat to her left; the numerous tables had their umbrellas open, lit candles
centered on each table. To her right, a small mosque lay nestled amongst other
buildings. This street was far less crowded than the souk.
“What
do you think about Curt?” Her chestnut-brown hair bounced as she slowed her
pace so Brian could keep up. She needed a conversation to take her mind off
Samuel.
“He
is okay.” Brian looked away when he answered. Kadie knew what that meant.
Brian’s instincts on people were spot on, and he wasn’t very fond of Curt. She
wasn’t sure why; she was still trying to figure him out herself. Curt was a few
years older than her. He was handsome, dashing, and brave—former Delta Force.
There was something to be said for that.
They
entered the newly renovated hotel, leaving the Third World atmosphere behind
them. Kadie sighed as they weaved through the crowded lobby and lumbered up the
stairs to their room on the second floor. She dropped Brian off in their room
before she went to check on Samuel.
“Don’t
leave,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay.”
Brian moved to the couch and pressed the big green button on the television
remote.
Kadie
closed the door; the hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and her heartbeat
raced higher than usual. She hurried down the hall to Samuel’s room. Inside,
she heard a loud crash and the sound of something hitting the wall, followed by
a solid thud.
That’s
not good, she thought.
Kadie
tried the door handle. Locked. She pulled a small FOB out of her pocket. It was
called a Gomer, a new device that opened almost any electronic lock. It had
wreaked havoc on the hotel industry, but she had picked one up back in the
States knowing she’d be living in hotels abroad for three months.
She
was hesitant to use it. She shouldn’t just barge into his room. Then came a
second thud, followed by a muffled cry.
Kadie
swiped the FOB across the lock and pushed hard against the door. The door
cracked open about two inches and abruptly stopped; the chain secured on the
inside.
“Samuel?”
She peered through the gap; a body lay on the floor. Oh my, he’s had a heart
attack. Kadie lowered her shoulder and bulldozed the door. It started to
give way. On the second try, the chain burst free from the wall and the door
flew open.
Kadie
gasped. In the center of the room, a large man stood over Samuel’s body,
wearing a faded brown futa, the traditional Yemini male shirt, and black
pants. A black keffiyeh covered his face, with only his eyes exposed.
The
man stood over Samuel, the bloody knife in his hand dripping on the floor.
* * *
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M.B. Lewis is an Amazon #1 International Bestselling Author, and his books have also been on the Bestseller lists on Barnes and Noble Nook and Kobo platforms. The author of the award-winning Jason Conrad Thriller series has been on numerous author panels at writer’s conferences such as Thrillerfest, The Louisiana Book Festival, The Pensacola Book and Writers Festival, and Killer Nashville.
A 25-year Air Force pilot, he has flown special operations combat missions in Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan in the AC-130U Spooky Gunship. Michael is currently a pilot for a major U.S. airline.
A proud Christian active in his community, Michael has mentored college students on leadership development and team-building and is a facilitator for an international leadership training program. He has participated as a buddy for the Tim Tebow Foundation’s “Night to Shine” and in his church’s Military Ministry program. Michael has also teamed with the Air Commando Foundation, which supports Air Commando’s and their families’ unmet needs during critical times.
While his adventures have led to travels all around the world, Michael lives in Florida with his wife Kim.
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