"Henry, do you ever think that maybe someone just lost the artifact and here we are on a wild goose chase?" Molly asked, ducking to avoid someone who was carrying a large basket of bread.
Mutt walked cavalierly down the marketed streets of Jerusalem like he was the next King David. He adjusted his sunglasses, running a hand through the flecks of blonde starting to show in his hair. Molly felt her heart skip for a moment. Then someone promptly knocked her in the shoulder and she found herself falling forward.
"Nice one, Graceful," he quipped, catching her.
Jerusalem was alight with patterned scarves, fresh food, loud music; the market before the Sabbath was truly a sight to behold. They had been here for three days already. The sun was starting to make her and Mutt lazy. They spent their hours in the markets, at the museum, and the beautiful home Dr. Jones and Marion lived in. Worse, Mutt was starting to steal more kisses from her, making Molly wonder if the line they were walking with the 'engagement' was beginning to be blurred.
"And to answer your question, no one would ever lose something so important. We keep looking," he answered easily.
"The trail is cold!" she yelled, resisting the urge to stamp her foot.
"The trail is about to get red hot again Moll," he smiled, winking at her.
Molly blushed. "How are you so sure?"
"Well, follow me and maybe you'll find out."
"Thanks for seeing us so late!"
"Not at all!" A portly, heavily accented woman opened the door. Her dark hair was caught up in a tight coil and her smile nearly eclipsed the rest of her face. She beckoned them in off the street from an unmarked door.
"Who's this lovely young lady?" she asked.
"Rachel, this is my fi-"
"Friend!" Molly jumped in, surprising them both. "I'm his friend, Molly Moore. And assistant. We work together so-"
"So she keeps me on my toes," Mutt interjected, flashing Rachel his mega-watt smile that seemed to always get him what he wanted.
Rachel conceded easily, smiling and chattering on about the weather. She exited the front room into the kitchen. "Will you just let me do the talking before she gets your whole life story? Geez she's an old friend of mine, not Barbra Walters."
"Well I'm sorry but I'm not about to make up more lies about our relationship," Molly whispered furiously.
Mutt solved the situation by planting a kiss behind her ear. He flicked his warm tongue against the sensitive skin and Molly felt gooseflesh rise. He hummed, running his fingers along her arm. "Sensitive," he murmured.
A low chuckle made Molly jump out of his arms. "Looks like she assists you with a little more than just your assignments," Rachel said, holding a plate of Babka cake.
"Thanks," Molly grumbled, grabbing a piece of moist cake. "How long have you lived here, Rachel?"
"My whole life yafa," she answered. "I used to be an archaeologist, but the work took me away too often. I run a boarding house here."
"Oh!" Molly said, peering up the stairs. Now that she had mentioned it, boarding house made sense. The living room was packed with mismatched furniture and a wide table with a plethora of chairs crowded the dining room.
"What brings the two of you to Jerusalem?" asked Rachel.
"That's why we're here Rachel," Mutt said excitedly, spreading out the picture of Christ on his cross out on the coffee table, the same one that Molly had tried to translate Latin from. The whole diner shootout seemed like an eternity ago.
Rachel set the cake down beside the picture.
"We're looking for the Bishop's spear," he said.
Rachel's friendly demeanor seemed to darken a little. "What for?"
"We've gotten into a bit of trouble, it looks like there are other people after it too," he answered, sitting on a fluffy pink sofa. Molly joined him.
"What lead you to Jerusalem?"
"A marking on the sarcophagus of St. Helen. It was beautiful Rachel, all purple marble… you would'a loved it."
Rachel leaned forward on the sofa, lowering her voice. "You know, a few men have been around here, asking about the same thing."
"Oh really?" Molly asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Burly, thug-like," she said. "I told them everything I know."
"Which is what?"
"The same thing I'm telling you. I have no idea where that thing is, and if I were you I'd stay the hell away."
Mutt smiled again, "Oh, Rach you know I'm no good at following orders."
Rachel sighed heavily, "Sometimes you really ask for it. You must be your father's child."
Molly could see Mutt's lips purse just a touch. He coughed, rubbing his palms together. "So, what do you actually know?"
Rachel paused for a moment. "Do you know what the Bishop's spear is actually used for?"
"We think it may have something to do with alchemy," Molly answered.
Rachel nodded. "Early alchemists believed that Christ's blood could conjure an elixer that would put an end to human suffering. Whoever drank from it would be granted eternal life."
"So that's why everyone wants a piece," Mutt muttered to himself.
"The inscription led us here," Molly added. "But I think that we've reached a dead end."
Rachel laughed, helping to lighten the mood of the room. "Archaeology is full of dead ends yafa. After a while you get used to them."
"Rachel, this thing is big. The FBI and CIA want in on the action. The truth is, Molly and I were kidnapped to find the spear. But we managed to get away and have been laying low for a few days. If we don't find the spear before everyone else does, then trouble's gonna go global."
Rachel seemed to be considering his statement for a moment. Then, slowly she began to unbutton her blouse. Mutt sat upright, confused, but Molly knew what she was up to. Pulling down a side of her shirt, she revealed a copy of the tattoo the Assassin wore over his breast.
"You all keep popping up everywhere," Mutt quibbled.
"Can you help us?" Molly asked.
"The spear is somewhere safe, I assure you."
"So you know the location?" Mutt asked hurriedly.
She hesitated.
"Vell, vell, vell."
The unmistakable accent rang clearly through the walls of the boarding house. Mutt turned his head to see Isay standing there, a grim expression on his face and pistol cocked in his hand.
"This the thug you were going on about?" Mutt asked.
"No, I've been letting this gentleman stay here," Rachel answered, voice quivering.
"Right," Mutt retorted, "if you guys are this good at security, I can guarantee that those enemies of yours are knocking back some of the potion right now."
"Mutt!" Molly admonished.
"Whatever it is you want, you won't find it here," Rachel said, voice surprisingly steady.
Mutt reached into his pocked, running his thumb along the knife placed carefully there. "Your conflict is with us Isay," he reminded the massive Russian.
Isay laughed deeply, "I just heard everything."
Deciding it was better to act, Mutt drew his knife out of the pocket of his tan slacks, hurling it at Isay. It hit his shoulder. His arm lifted, gun going off. The shot blasted through the room. Mutt heard Molly fall to the ground behind him. He didn't see where the bullet went, only where it didn't. When he didn't feel any pain, Mutt charged into Isay, knocking the man to the ground.
"Molly!" he yelled as the two scuffled. "You and Rachel get outta here!"
Molly turned to the woman lying on the ground beside her. "Come on Rachel," she said, helping her to her feet. It was when she rose that Molly saw the damage the weapon had done.
"M-Mutt," Molly tried, but the stain was spreading across the white of Rachel's blouse.
"I need to sit," Rachel ground out. Molly nodded dumbly. Then, gaining some sense she immediately pressed her hand to the woman's stomach, trying to stop up some of the blood.
"Okay, what we really need is to get you to a hospital," Molly said as calmly as possible. Looking over her shoulder, Isay and Mutt were still fighting, knocking over a vase that appeared to be expensive.
Sticking Isay's shoulder with the knife only made him angrier, Mutt decided. He felt as though he were grappling with a bear. Squeezing Isay's wrist, he forced the gun from his hands, letting it clatter to the floor.
"Moll!" Mutt yelped. "Grab the gun!"
Abandoning her post, Molly sprinted for the pistol. It slid through the blood-soaked fingers. The grip was shaky. She pointed it at Isay. "Let him go!"
Two pairs of eyes stared back at her. Isay's were filled with laughter, but Mutt's were wide an encouraging.
"Put gun down little girl or-"
Molly fired it, causing both men to curl and yell. The hole in the wall said that the bullet had been a little to close for comfort. Oh well, it was meant as a warning shot anyway. "Okay! Good one!" Mutt said, peering from behind his arm.
He stood up, reaching for the gun. His face paled when he saw Molly's bloody hands and forearms. "What did he do to you?"
"Rachel," Molly forced out.
Mutt strode purposefully across the room, preparing to lift her into his arms. Rachel smiled at him. "No time," she said.
"What do you mean? I'll get you outta here so fast-"
Rachel shook her braided head. "There's no time. I need to tell you something. Come close."
Mutt fell to his knees, leaning in closer to Rachel. "There are three maps, all leading to the same place. They are fashioned in our symbol; the triangle surrounded by the circle. Dr. Eleanor Palmetter found one in Nepal. Go to her. One leads to the next."
"Is that how we find the spear?"
She laughed, coughing up blood. "I should hope so. It is what I have been told. No brother or sister has ever laid eyes on That Which is Most Holy." More spluttering. Reaching around her neck she removed a thin chain, the triangle and circle hanging off the end. It had gone unnoticed before, now she handed it to him.
"Rachel, I'm getting you out of here-"
"Take it. Find it before they do."
Mutt opened his palm. The pendant dropped into his hand.