S7: Jihad

.........

The professor looked at the video for the fifth time, looking for some clue. The man was obviously old or a talented actor, and he was leaning towards old. He noticed the man was dressed like someone from an Indiana Jones movie, and the wide brimmed hat obscured his face. They did get a glimpse of a white beard, but then again that could have been faked. He watched as the rented van pulled up, and the old guy got out and accosted a couple of students. Money changed hands, and the two students unloaded two boxes out of the van, and following instructions, waiting until the vehicle was out of sight before carrying them to reception. They interviewed the students later and got very little information.

"He was an old dude, Professor. He spoke with a British accent, and asked if we'd like to make a hundred dollars each, just for carrying the boxes inside the building. Like we would walk off from a Benjamin! He made us promise to wait until he was out of sight, said it was a surprise that you would appreciate. And yes, he asked for you by name."

The van was a dead end, rented with a fake ID, and all they remembered was a nice old guy. He had paid and the money cleared, so they had no interest in him.

He nearly collapsed when they opened the boxes and saw the casks. He called everyone pertinent in, and they carefully examined them, determining from tests they were at least two thousand years old.

They locked them in a vault until they could set the machine up. The machine had cost the university almost half a million dollars, but the technology enabled it to read a scroll through a cask, urn, even a metal box, even though it was rolled up. When they were ready, they placed a cask inside and started the program. It would take as least ten to fourteen hours, so everyone went home, except three armed security guards.

His wife met him at the door. She had an odd look on her face. "Someone just called for you honey. He said to tell you it was the old man with the boxes, and you should check your email."

He tore into his office, his wife trailing behind. He told her the short version of the story as he scrolled his messages. He quickly found the one titled "The man with the box" and opened it.

"Dear professor,

You don't know me, but I've been a big fan of your work. So when I decided to pass on the casks, you were the first person I thought of. I give them to you free and clear. I don't know where they originated, and no one could tell me if they knew. I've had them for years, until I decided to declutter my life, and I now place the burden of discovery on you.

I give you one piece of advice, as someone who has been in your shoes. Be very careful. Knowledge can be a great joy but an even bigger burden, and the law of unintended consequences is never more present than in situations like this.

Good luck, and go with God."

The professor got little sleep, and gave up trying at five, getting up, showering, enjoying a light breakfast of yogurt and fruit, even though he wanted bacon and eggs.

Unable to wait, he was at the lab by seven, not really surprised to see most of his team waiting. Looking at their faces, he surmised they also had gotten very little rest.

He carefully locked the door behind his team, and booted up the computer. As the translations appeared all movement stopped, and the team stared enthralled at the screen. By the third page tears had appeared, and midway through the fourth the Professor heard a thump, and turned to see one of his assistants on the floor in a dead faint. He immediately shut down the screen while the rest helped their fallen comrade up, and ushered everyone in his conference room. They all got coffee and water, taking a few minutes to compose themselves. Finally, the man that had fainted looked at their leader.

"What do we do now, Professor?"

A massive manhunt was started to find the "Man With The Box", but they soon hit dead ends. The phone call was traced to the campus library, as was the email. There were no records of the man past the car rental company, no trace of him entering or leaving the country on any commercial airline. He was a ghost, appearing and disappearing like mist in a glen.

.......

Jack reached over and pulled Polly to him as she wept, watching them lower the casket in the grave. There had been a fierce debate over the tombstone, but in the end they decided to let the truth out because there was no one who could be hurt by it now.

Tati and Josef, Fran and her husband, and every member of their families were also there, each dealing with their grief in different ways. The whole village again turned out, and there were some odd guests. Two Saudi princes and their families, a Israeli woman, quite old, and a few military types in business suits. There was also a contingent of Catholic priests, five in all. One, a large man with red hair peppered with gray, wept openly. Every child he had taught over the years that could make it showed up, with their families, to honor a man who had shaped their lives in varying degrees.

The woman, and the Saudi princes watched the night before as Jack viewed the body, before slipping two scimitars, an antique dagger, and two well used Makarov pistols into the casket. They nodded in approval as the weapons were placed. Ruth touched the weathered old face, saying a small prayer in Hebrew, before walking away. She only wished her husband was still alive to pay his respects.

Jack smiled as he remembered part of the service. The pastor, an old friend, waxed eloquently on the virtues of his friend, as a good father, husband, and companion, someone you could absolutely depend on in good times or bad.

"He was a teacher, a warrior, devout friend and implacable enemy. His proudest achievements, he often told me, were his children, and the children he taught, despite the many things he did that in some ways altered the history of the world. They, he often said, were his legacy, anything else he accomplished were trivial compared to them. We knew him as Major Mark Jones, but in truth, his real name was Professor Jacob Peter Trammel, last of the S7."

There was a collective gasp from the villagers, realizing that such a man had lived among them. It took a long while for them to reconcile the man they knew with the legacy he left behind.

Finally, to honor him, they erected a huge monument, twelve feet high, at the entrance to the cemetery. There was a very large S7, in a circle, at the top. The inscription read:

"Here Lies Jacob Peter Trammel, with his wife Madison. The Major and his General, together in eternity."

On the flight home,Jack read the London Times he had picked up at the airport, while Polly dozed. He had to stifle a laugh.

RECENTLY DISCOVERED SCROLLS MAY ALTER HISTORY! WORLD WIDE MANHUNT LAUNCHED FOR "THE MAN WITH THE BOX!"

The end.

.......

Well, there you have it. Some will hate it, some will love it, and most will fall in the middle. Perhaps it shouldn't be here, but a not so loving wife started it, and a truly loving wife helped finish it.

As always, let me know what you think, and if you vote, thanks.

Q