Chapter Five:

The Pillars

In the aftermath of the fighting, the carnage left behind reminded Chris all too much of the battlefields of Europe, with bodies strewn across mortar mangled earth. Here, they lay across the marble block, intertwined within the tables and chairs laid out for the party as well as the exhibits on display, many of which were lying on the floor, broken and dented. Fortunately, most of the dead belonged to the red robed attackers who instigated the violence in the first place.

Still there were enough innocent victims to go around and Chris's jaw clenched when he saw the museum guests who had come here for a night out, decked out in their best clothes, unaware they were wearing their death shrouds for the evening. Remembering how callously they were cut down made Chris wished they had killed all those red robed bastards instead of allowing them escape. He spared them a moment of consideration before his mind turned its attention to the fates of his men.

Surveying the room quickly, Chris felt a surge of relief seeing his friends alive, even if it looked like Ezra was hurt. The gambler was sitting at the base of a column, his shoulder angled oddly enough for Chris to tell immediately it was dislocated or worse. Despite Ezra's hatred of exposing his emotions, except maybe when he was stewing in a cooking pot or about to lose his virtue to a tribal chief, the pain on his face was obvious.

"Nathan," Chris called out to the medic, who was systematically going from body to body, hoping there was someone still left alive for him to administer medical attention.

Nathan lifted his head immediately at Chris's call and then saw where the leader of the seven was staring. Ezra's prone condition made Nathan forget all about his inspection, with the former medic side-stepping the bodies around him to reach the southerner. Nathan liked it even less when he saw the gambler's normally cool facade cracked by a grimace of pain.

Meanwhile Buck strode towards Chris, deciding there was no one left alive and was furious at the unnecessary violence displayed here. "Who the hell were these guys?" Buck demanded when he reached Chris.

"I have no idea," Chris shrugged, just as puzzled by the identity of these assailants as his oldest friend. Dropping to a knee next to one of the men lying on the floor, Chris rolled him over. He had been lying face down in a crimson pool of blood, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Judging by the size of the ragged hole in the centre of his forehead, the kill shot had come from a small bullet, most likely a derringer. No doubt, this man had met his fate at the end of Ezra's carefully concealed weapon.

Studying the man closely, he noted like all the robed attackers, he too was Arabian in descent with his tanned olive skin and brown eyes. The robes, although oriental in origin were nothing like the traditional garb worn by some of the Turks during the war. Furthermore, the weapons they were carrying appeared as if they originated from another century, with their mixture of curved blades and scimitars. As the rest of the seven converged around him, Chris noted something else, this time on the man's hand. Lifting the cooling flesh for a closer look, Chris leaned in and studied the symbol tattooed on the man's skin. It was a lion encircled in a black ring.

"What is it?" Buck asked, taking note of the concentration on Chris's face as he examined the dark symbol.

"Buck, check the other bodies. See if they have the same mark."

"Right," Buck nodded, catching on to his line of thinking, guessing Chris wanted confirmation these men were a part of a larger menace and the first step to combatting it was to find out who they were. Withdrawing from Chris, he scanned the immediate area and soon found another candidate from which they could gain their confirmation. Pushing aside the table the corpse had landed on, Buck dropped to his knees and conducted the same examination by checking the man's hand.

"Chris, he's got one too!" Buck hollered at Chris and suspected if they went through all the bodies, they would all be wearing the same mark. What the hell were they dealing with here?

"What have you found pard?" Vin asked Chris when he finally reached the side of the blond man, still carrying the shotgun he had liberated from Chris's car, the long barrel facing the floor.

"All these men," Chris made brief eye contact with the sharpshooter and paused a moment, sighting something that made him blink before he shook the thought out of his head and turned back to the dead man before him. He showed Vin the tattoo. "They're all wearing this."

Vin studied the tattoo and thought it was very different to the ones he'd seen worn by the Indians. While the Navajo weren't practitioners, Vin knew plenty of other tribes that indulged in the practise of marking their skin, to express their prowess in battle, hunting and marking their spirituality.

"Some kind of cult probably. We've come across a couple of those since we started working for the Professor," Vin pointed out. "Ain't that much of a surprise, considering what these boys were dressed up for. Any idea what they wanted?"

"They were after the Heart." Chris declared and looked up to see where JD was. The kid had an encyclopaedic memory for iconography and Chris wanted him to look at the tattoo to see if he could recognise it. JD was standing over Josiah who was covering a woman with a tablecloth. Like Nathan had been doing earlier, Josiah was also checking for any survivors. Judging by the sombre expression on the big man's face, he found none.

"JD!" Chris caught the younger man's attention. "Over here, I need you to look at something."

Meanwhile Vin was staring in the direction of the showcase in its central position in the room. Taking note of the broken glass of the display case scattered across the marble floor and the general absence of the object, Vin assumed the worst. "They took it?"

"No," Chris shook his head, recalling his instructions to Mary Travis. "We managed to get it out of here before they could get their hands on it."

"What's up Chris?" JD asked when he reached them from across the room. The kid's pallor looked decidedly grey and both Vin and Chris immediately guessed, the sight of all those dead bodies was affecting the youngest member of their group. Until now, JD's experience with death was mostly limited to the mummified corpses they encounter when they went on their artefact hunting forays. Fresh bodies were another thing entirely and Chris could see it was taking its toll on the boy. He was almost tempted to advise JD to leave the room, but knew JD wouldn't take it well. The kid was determined to prove he was equal to any situation his comrades could face.

"You okay?" Vin asked quietly.

"Yeah," JD nodded, flinching a bit at the body Chris was leaning over. "I'm fine."

In fact, JD was not okay and it wasn't the sight of the bodies which made him feel ill but rather the smell of all that blood. He was used to the dank musty smell of corpses that had long ago been desiccated, until they looked like dry husks. Seeing bodies who were only a short time ago, living breathing entities and inhaling the powerful metallic stench of blood made him a little queasy. Of course, he would rather die than reveal this to either Chris or Vin, so he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"What's up Chris?" He asked with a firmer voice.

Chris smiled faintly, proud at the young scholar's efforts to man up. "Take a look at this symbol. You seen this before?"

The possibility of unravelling a riddle immediately drove away any previous hesitation with JD dropping immediately to one knee so he could take a closer look. Forgetting he was handling a dead body now, he lifted the corpse's hand, going so far to hold it inches from his face to study it carefully. Chris and Vin exchanged glances, smiling in amusement at the rapid shift of the boy's demeanour, once handed a problem to solve.

"It's a simurgh." JD stated without looking over his shoulder after a moment.

"A what?" Buck asked as the pilot and Josiah joined them.

While Chris had never seen the symbol himself, he knew from reading what it was. "That's Persian ain't it? Some kind of mythological creature?"

"Yeah that's right" JD looked up at Chris, smiling with admiration at the surprising wealth of knowledge the man seemed to possess without ever needing to step inside a university lecture hall. "It is meant to be a creature who survived the making of the world at least three times over, and is supposed to purify the land and bestow fertility."

"So, what's that gotta do with these boys?" Josiah glanced at his comrades in puzzlement. "That sounds to me like a rather benevolent symbol, not one to use for what these fellas were up tonight. They weren't taking prisoners. They were going to kill everyone here." The barely concealed anger in Josiah's voice showed.

Chris didn't blame him for his vitriol. What had been done here tonight was an attempt at a massacre. He hated to think what would have happened if he and the seven had not been present tonight. "Can't say," Chris shrugged. "But they came for the Heart."

"Well Mr Larabee," Ezra announced himself as he and Nathan joined them once Nathan had seen to his shoulder. He was wearing a makeshift sling Nathan had fashioned out of a belt and a table napkin, his movements slow as he tried to avoid jostling his arm and cause more pain. As it was, he was trying very hard to maintain his amiable facade despite the grimace threatening to cross his face. "You certainly know the best soirees for us to attend."

"Well I do like a good party," Chris deadpanned and glanced at Nathan. "How are you?"

Before Ezra answered, Nathan spoke up. "Well I couldn't do nothing about his mouth but the rest of him is okay. Just a dislocated shoulder which I've popped back in. It's going to be a little sore for a few days but won't keep him from bitching about it to us."

"Once again, your bedside manner has no price," the southerner gave the medic a look.

A ripple of amusement following their relief, ran across the rest of the seven as Ezra and Nathan got into another bout of verbal sparring. Since the first day they found themselves sharing a trench during the war, the duo had been constantly bickering. Yet despite the barbs they directed at each other, the two men shared a close friendship that had gone from strength to strength since Chris found them all four years ago. The leader of the Seven was convinced only Nathan was capable of making Ezra shut up where long bladed bowie knives (as Vin once tried) and guns failed.

"Just like the bills for my doctoring," Nathan returned sweetly.

Chris's eyes shifted slightly from the duo when he saw Orin and Mary returning to the scene. He noted she was now wearing her heels, reminding Chris with some chagrin, how she saved his life a short time ago. Bristling in annoyance at the debt he now owed her, Chris was certain that was smug satisfaction she was wearing on her lovely face when she cast those blue grey eyes in his direction. He was convinced she was going to exact some terrible price for the help she'd given him.

"Who is that with the Professor?" Vin asked, having missed the introductions to Mary since he had taken the first opportunity he could, to escape the party.

"That's Mary Travis," Buck said sighing forlornly at the gorgeous blond, still disappointed to learn she was Orin Travis's daughter. As much as he'd like to put the moves on such a fine woman, he had a sneaking suspicion his 'love them and leave them' approach to women would not impress the Professor and decided wisely to let this particular fish go.

"You should see her fight," JD exclaimed with a smile. "She saved Chris!"

Chris gave JD a dark look, wishing the young man hadn't brought that up. As it was he disliked the idea of any woman having to save his skin.

"She didn't save me." He grumbled. "I would have handled that situation."

This of course was absolute bullshit and he knew it. Still, he had to admit she had been pretty impressive fighting off that crazed woman who would have introduced him to the sharp point of a dagger, if Mary had not intervened. To say nothing about those gorgeous legs she'd used to do it.

"You got saved by a girl?" Vin asked and stifled a smirk when Chris shot him an infamous Larabee glare.

"You want to explain the lipstick on your face?" Chris returned, giving Vin a little tit for tat.

"Lipstick" Vin stared at him bewildered even as his hand reached for his face instinctively and realised Alex had left some of her lipstick on the corner of his mouth.

"Lipstick?" Buck, being Buck, immediately turned his neck so he could take a better look at Vin's face, having not seen it earlier. "Vin, when did you get a chance to make out with some pretty gal?"

"I didn't make out..." Vin snapped exasperated, not to mention a little mortified at everyone being privy to the fact he had kissed a woman in the last hour. Worse yet, he had been fighting these varmints all the time with lipstick on his face? Thankfully, he did not need to finish his sentence because he was interrupted by Orin Travis's horrified exclamation.

"My God," the Professor exclaimed, surveying the full measure of the destruction in lives and exhibits throughout the room. "I didn't think they would be so bold."

"They?" Chris's spine stiffened with the realisation Orin knew their attackers.

Mary shot him a dark look at the accusatory tone in his voice before touching her father's shoulder trying to assuage his horror as well as the guilt he must be feeling. "You knew the minute the Heart was unearthed, they'd be coming," Mary said softly.

"You know who these boys are?" Josiah asked the Professor, using a less confrontational tone as was his way. The priesthood had lost a good man when Josiah had turned away from them. He had a way about him that engendered trust and projected sympathy.

"Yes," the older scholar nodded, still staring at the bodies of people he considered friends and colleagues, unable to imagine they had come to this. "They're called the Children of Erran and they're after the Heart."

That much was obvious, Chris thought silently and turned to Mary. "You still have it?"

"Yes." She nodded, remembering his instructions to her during the worst of the fight. She looked down at the clutch she was carrying and snapped it open. A second later, she fished the artefact out and presented to all of them.

"Dad I don't think it's a good idea to put this on display again," she told Orin.

"She's right," Chris agreed and saw her arch a brow in surprise at his support. "They were willing to kill all these people in to get to it, in the open. I don't want to know what they're going to do next. We need to keep this hidden until we know why they want it."

Orin sighed. "I know why," he met Chris's eyes. "And considering what happened tonight, it's best you know too."


Before the police descended on the museum, the whole group retired to Orin Travis's office on the far side of the building. While they did not have a lot of time before they were subject to the ministrations of the constabulary who would require a full accounting of what transpired tonight from its eye witnesses, it was necessary for Orin to reveal the truth known to only a select few until today. There were decisions to be made and Orin needed to make explanations quickly so they could proceed next. Chris Larabee and his team were the most capable men Orin knew and if anyone could help him navigate this situation, it was the Seven.

"This is why I asked you boys here tonight," Orin explained as he sat behind his desk. Mary served him a glass of whiskey from a sifter he kept on a nearby shelf, before she sat perched at the corner of the desk, unknowingly giving Chris the opportunity to admire her glorious legs. "I knew the Heart was in danger but I never imagined the Erran would come after it so openly. In the past, they've been subtler but I suppose they're done being patient. It's good thing you boys were here tonight or else it would have gone even worse."

It didn't take any clairvoyance to know Orin was scared and that bothered the hell out of Chris. Orin had led them during the battle of Meuse-Argonne, leading the charge across the Argonne Forest into German artillery manned by seasoned troops. The loss of lives during that engagement had been staggering and yet this history professor had got them through it without flinching. Fear was simply not something Chris associated with the man.

"Orin," Chris asked using a gentler tone than those present were accustomed to hearing from him. "Tell us what's going on."

Orin took a deep breath and began speaking, telling the tale of four young men, privileged and bored who took to Arabia for adventure. William, Orin, Hank and Donnie. How they'd met a famous archaeologist who spoke of excavating lost cities and suitably enamoured by fantasies of ancient treasures, joined the expedition. The expedition that would eventually excavate the city of Ur, hidden in the sands of Persia for almost 4000 years.

Chris tried not to react at the mention of Hank Conley's name. Hank had also served in Europe and it was a chance meeting when they got home that allowed Chris to meet Sarah, Hank's only daughter and by all accounts, the apple of his eye. To Hank, Chris Larabee simply was not good enough for his daughter but for Sarah's sake, they managed to forge something of a relationship. After her death, Hank had laid blame of the fire on Chris's shoulders for not being there when his wife and son needed him most, as if Chris didn't already harbour enough guilt on the matter.

Orin continued his narration, explaining how they'd taken their share of artefacts but kept secret the chamber they discovered one night when they went exploring alone in a remote part of the site, away from the main dig. The small temple it led into was presided over by one mummified priest in his tomb and once they unsealed it, discovered the four cryptices they would come to learn later were the Four Pillars.

Each taking one of the Pillars for their own, they considered it nothing more than some ancient relic of a long-forgotten religion. Even when they did reveal the presence of the temple to the rest of the archaeological expedition, they kept secret their booty, believing the Pillars were just rewards for their discovery. When the expedition team conducted their own survey, it was revealed that the site was a Temple of Erran one of the minor Mesopotamian deities.

"Eventually we had to come home and take up our responsibilities. I came back to New Mexico and took up a teaching position at the university. William went to medical school, Donnie inherited the family business in Philadelphia and Hank went to Arizona. We kept in touch through letters and spent summers together. Two years after we got home, a few months after the birth of his daughter, someone broke into Donnie's home and slit his throat."

"Jesus," Vin whispered.

Orin didn't react to the sharpshooter's exclamation but judging by the grim faces across the room, he saw the rest of the seven shared the young man's horror. "Whoever did it, tried to make it look like a robbery but only one thing was stolen."

No one had to guess what that was.

"His Pillar," Chris stated without needing Orin to say it.

"Yes." Orin grimly. "It was stolen and for the first time we paid attention to what we'd taken from that temple. We talk to Sir John Evans, our expedition leader who told us about the history of the Four Pillars and how it was meant to be used to unlock the Heart. The Heart contains directions to locating the Tablets of Destiny. According to the legends, whomever reads from this tablet, can remake the world in their own image. None of us believe this nonsense of course but that didn't change the fact Donnie was dead because someone did.

After Donnie's death, we knew we had to be vigilant. Each of us hid the Pillar we possessed someplace safe and went about our lives as if we suspected nothing about the nature of them except now, we never spoke about the Pillars openly. The plan seemed to work and for years nothing happened. Then Hank died."

Buck shot Chris a look, aware of how even the remotest possibility of Hank Conley meeting his end under suspicious circumstances might affect his oldest friend despite his relationship with his father. "He fell? Didn't he?"

"We assumed he did."

Chris looked away from the others, thinking about the last time he saw Hank Conley. By then, their relationship had deteriorated to the point where they were no longer on speaking terms. Without Sarah, Hank turned mean and even though Chris should have tried to keep in touch for her sake, he couldn't bear to be around the man whose venom kept Chris's wounds raw and open. To get on with the business of living, he needed to be able to live with their deaths and being around Hank would assure that never happened.

"When we agreed to hide the Pillars," Orin resumed speaking. "We decided the last one of us left alive should know where all the artefacts could be found. We gave the location to our lawyers, to be delivered when all the others were dead. When Hank died of a fall with no signs of foul play, we mourned him but thought nothing more about it. Later, when I found out where he hid his Pillar and went to look for it, it was gone."

"You're telling me they got Hank to talk?" Chris couldn't believe that. Whatever his feelings for the man, Hank was as stubborn as a mule. He wouldn't talk without torture and since there were no signs of it according to Orin, Chris was adamant Hank took his secrets to the grave.

"I'm not sure," Orin explained. "Towards the end, he wasn't making much sense. You weren't there Chris; his mind was becoming quite unstable. He might have told them without even realising. In any case, it was gone. We expected them to come after us but nothing happened."

"There was no reason to," Mary spoke up. "Without the Heart, the Pillars were useless but once it was found, we knew the Erran would be coming."

"William is dead?" Josiah asked, suspecting it had to be the case if the Professor was taking them into his confidence.

It was Mary who answered and the seven saw the grief in Orin's eyes at the passing of his friend, a sentiment they all could share considering the closeness of their bond to each other.

"He was killed two weeks ago, supposedly during a burglary."

"So, the attack this evening may not simply have been to take the Heart but extract the location of the remaining Pillars from you." Ezra deduced. "I assume you have the remaining two."

"No," Orin shook his head. "William changed his instructions to his lawyer. Instead of them coming to me, its location was going to his daughter. You see William spent years after Donnie's death studying the mythology of the tablet and what it would mean if it was found and used. William really believed it could unmake the world. He was determined no matter what, his cryptext would go to someone who could hide it away and keep it from being used as a set. I guess he thought keeping it away from me would be safer."

"Makes sense," Nathan remarked. "They've already got two of the pieces. If you have the last two, they just need to get to you to gain the whole set."

Vin was silent because he was thinking hard about what they had just told and the pieces were reaching a conclusion he did not like. As soon as the Professor had mentioned a daughter, Vin's mind was whirling. He thought of that beautiful girl on the roof, who with a single kiss, had made him feel like he could fly. The girl, who had business with the Professor, who was still grieving for someone whose loss were fresh in her lovely sad eyes.

"She's here." Vin stated, jumping to his feet, heading for the door. "William's daughter is here!"

And he had her left out there alone.