The Alexandria Code

- 1 -

The dark alley dripped with foreboding. The bricks of the building were slick and shined with the wetness from the Lake Superior mist. Dark, black puddles appeared as pits in the pavement meant to be avoided at all costs. There had been death here that much was sure. These old waterfront alleyways had been places of dark deeds for 250 years.

Isabella Carter had known death before, she recognized its mark. This was where she had been told to meet the seller. She knew now that it was a setup. She had been lured back here to the Sault where she grew up in a large cabin on Whitefish Bay. But for what purpose? Why bring her back all the way to the Soo? It made no sense. Isabella turned around and started to retrace her steps back to the street. Enough was enough. This alley wasn't for her. Now she was acutely aware of the feel of the gun that she carried inside her coat.

The mist stuck to her shoulder length black hair. It had a natural curl to it that now was going crazy with the mist. Her dark brown eyes scoured the old alley for the danger she was certain was out there. She had made many enemies over the years and lived her life wary and always aware of her surroundings.

Whoever had lured her here had been clever. They knew which buttons to push. The possibility of restoring a lost antique from the black market into the hands of academia had been too much to resist. Sault Ste. Marie was on the Canadian border which made it an easy entry point for contraband. She knew this town and it had been a hotbed for smugglers throughout most of its history. She thought of the bait that had brought her here, a jade statue of the Mayan goddess Ixchel. It would have enhanced University of Michigan's archaeological studies tremendously not to mention their museum, but now she knew she'd been duped. She had shut off her phone, but had left the GPS on. That way she hoped someone would be able to locate her body after this was all over.

Two men stepped out in front of her. Isabella's hand instinctively reached inside of her coat. Her legs tensed as she prepared to evade an attacker.

One of the men spoke, his words seemed muffled by the thickness of the air. "Dr. Carter?"

She didn't answer hoping that ignoring them would make them go away. It didn't work. The two moved to block her way. Years of experience told her that their next move would be to pull their guns. She beat them to it. Her practiced hand held the .45 automatic steady, deadly.

"Where's the statue?" she asked, suspecting, no, certain that there had never been one.

"No statue, Dr. Carter, Just a ride."

"Surprise," she muttered. "But no thanks."

One of the men moved towards her and the metallic click of her taking off the gun's safety stopped him short. She tried to get a feel of what they were thinking, their motivations, their mission. Isabella could only sense confusion. She wasn't meekly following their gameplan and it had them uncertain. "Good," she thought, at least she had them off balance.

The overpowering feel of death in the alley clouded her mind. It had been notorious during the prohibition. Executions had been carried out here in the past by bootlegger gangsters. Though it was rare these days, an occasional body would still be found, murdered. Probably by these two men, she thought, why else would they have called her here?

"We need you to come for a ride with us. Lazarus Fane wants to see you."

"Well if you thought that would put me at ease, you're dead wrong. The only thing I'm going to do with Fane is put a bullet between his eyes," she retorted. So that was it. This was Fane's doing. She should have known, should have guessed. The two enemies, over the years, had come to know each other too well. If she remembered correctly, Fane controlled a shoreline warehouse in the Sault. No doubt a front for illegal imports.

Lazarus Fane was the kind of person she fought to rid the world of, a black market antiquities dealer, no, looter. They were the bane of her profession, the blight of discovery, her lifelong crusade.

When Isabella had discovered the lost Mayan city of Itchen Balam, Fane had tried to take over her dig and discovery. He then had her close friend and Head Archaeologist on the project murdered. Fane had made it personal. The two of them had a long history. She had sought her retribution more than once, each time certain that she had rid the world of him. Fane simply wouldn't die. But, she still had hope. Someday, she'd finish the job.

"Mister Fane wants to talk to you. Our job is to bring you. We can carry you, as easily as not."

Isabella smiled at them, cold and hard.

"Now, now, that kind of behavior will get you nowhere with this one. She can put you both down and that would be embarrassing," came a voice from behind the men.

Isabella stiffened at the sound of Lazarus Fane's voice. Years of their war came flashing through her memory. He was ruthless, cold-blooded, evil, and she had been forced to become all of those things fighting him. She hated him for that. She could see his face now, pale and drawn, the poor lighting reflected off the scar that ran down the side of his face, the scar she'd given him. She smiled a little at the sight. The memory was sweet. Her free hand clenched as if she once again held the machete she'd tried to take his head off with.

"Dr. Carter, I have not brought you here to kill you, I've brought you here for privacy. This alley has a reputation, a reputation for death, one that I encourage, so it is avoided by everyone. Not even bums and junkies dare venture here. The only ones that visit here, don't leave, so you can consider yourself lucky. You get to do what others have failed at, leave here alive. Funny thought, that, letting you go alive. Besides, I have something for you that I'm sure will pique your interest. Your help will be invaluable," Fane continued, his pale blue eyes were but slits as he stared at her with intensity.

"My help? That's not likely to happen."

Fane nudged one of his men and ordered "Give it to her."

One of the men slowly reached into his pocket. Isabella still had her gun poised. He drew something out. Isabella's finger tightened. He held something small in his hand. It wasn't a weapon. Isabella's finger relaxed a bit.

"Take it, please." Fane still stood behind his men. "This is something I believe could change history as we know it."

"What is it?" she asked.

"That's what I want you to find out. Take it with you, back to NYU and look it over carefully. Study it. Closely."

Isabella was on loan to New York University from U of M for the past year. She was working with them helping identify Central American artifacts and teaching a graduate class.

Isabella held out her free hand and the man dropped something into it. She looked at it. Shining, even in the gloom of the alley, was a quartz crystal. "OK, it's a crystal. What's so special about it?"

"That's what I want you to discover. Believe me, there is something to discover. I just don't want to taint your findings by too much information."

"Why shouldn't I shoot you where you stand? Rid myself of a lot of trouble." It was a long awaited pleasure she was having a hard time not fulfilling. "That river over there could carry your body into the lower Great Lakes and they would never find you."

"Because, when you come to some conclusion about that crystal, you're going to want to know where the rest are. You know how to contact me." He turned and was gone leaving behind his two shields. When Fane was safely away, they too then turned and left the alley.

Isabella Carter looked at the crystal in her hand. Even in the low light she could see its details. "What was the big deal?" she thought. It was the typical six-faceted clear quartz about three inches long and about ¾ of an inch thick. The only thing she saw unusual was that the crystal hadn't been broken at the base, it was smooth and flat as if it had been cut or ground flat by some jeweler making it ready for a setting. This wasn't Fane's usual fare. Outwardly this didn't relate to black market antiquities. Had he stolen this from some idol somewhere? Fane was insistent that there was something more to it, something deeper, and knowing him, something darker.

She returned to her car and drove to the airport at Kinchloe. She was lucky. There was a plane she could grab back to Detroit and then catch a flight to New York. Because it was Fane she was more than tempted to throw the thing away, but it was because it was Fane that she didn't. He wouldn't have given it to her if there was nothing there. He wouldn't have risked his life for something as mundane as an everyday quartz crystal. There was something special about this crystal that he wanted confirmed. As much as it galled her, for the moment she was working with him. Thwarting him would have to wait until later.

When she got back to her office at NYU, Isabella put the crystal in a locked drawer in her desk. None of the students were around this time of night and this looked like a job for her graduate class. They could cover more ground quicker and get this over with as soon as...