Bedford, Connecticut, part 1

Bella wore her usual outfit for teaching: a simple cotton blouse and a long black skirt that traced the curves of her body. Already in her sixth year at university, she taught history classes at a school connected to the university where she studied, in the town where she lived—Bedford, Connecticut—to help pay for her tuition.

Bella was not American.

She was Brazilian.

She had earned a scholarship to study archaeology at Marshall College, a university of great prestige in America.

“Neolithic,” she said as she wrote the word on the chalkboard. “Neo means new. Lithic means age.”

She leaned back against the desk, looking at the students. One of the boys blinked slowly, and written across his eyelids were the words I LOVE YOU.

She ignored him.

Someone opened the door.

A short man in his sixties entered wearing a blue suit. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses was a discreet smile.

The bell rang.

“All right,” Bella said quickly. “For next week I want you to read the chapter about Babylon and the peoples who emerged in Mesopotamia. Class dismissed.”

The students rushed out of the room, leaving only Bella and the older man behind.

Bella let out a deep sigh as she looked at the smiling man.

“I had him, Marcus. He was right in my hands.”

“I know, Bella,” he replied. “You told me everything when you arrived.”

Bella glanced down at her black skirt. The fabric draped beautifully and highlighted her figure. She liked dressing that way—not to attract attention. She simply liked it.

“I can still recover it, Marcus.” She walked around the desk and took a wrapped bundle from the satchel she always carried with her. “He’ll be in Marrakesh, won’t he? He’ll try to sell the idol there.”

Marcus, the dean of the university where she studied, made a motion as if to touch her shoulder, but stopped himself. He had always been a gentleman.

“Let it go, Bella. There are some people here who want to see you. Important people.”

Bella ignored the implication. Plenty of people wanted to see her, though usually for reasons she disliked.

“I’m not interested in new romances, Marcus. You know I prefer something different. Look, I have a few things I want to show you.”

She displayed several artifacts she had excavated from the temple in Peru.

“They’re beautiful pieces, Bella. But come with me. These are people from the United States government. They’re very interested in meeting you.”

“Wait… the government? Is it because—”

“Oh no, you’re not being deported. Your documents and passports are all in order, don’t worry. It’s something else.”

“And what about the artifacts?”

“I’m sure the museum will buy them. Come.”

“Am I dressed properly?”

Bella looked down at her blouse, fixing a button she had fastened incorrectly, then adjusted her skirt so it covered her knees. The skirt fell slightly below them—a little short by the standards of the time—but she wore white stockings and black flat shoes that covered most of her legs.

“You look wonderful, Bella. Come on, let’s not keep our guests waiting.”

Marcus led her to the auditorium, a large and spacious place completely soundproofed. Bella wondered why they were holding the meeting there. Since the room was so private, whatever this was had to be truly confidential.

Below the stage, seated before a large chalkboard and a table, were two men: one tall and broad-shouldered, the other sturdy with white hair. Both wore suits decorated with military medals pinned to their jackets.

The two men stood and kissed Bella’s hand.

“Good morning, Miss…” said the taller one.

“Santos. Bella Santos. But you may call me Bella.”

“Bella, this is Major Eaton and Colonel Musgrove. Both work for American intelligence and wanted very much to meet you.”

Everyone sat down.

“So,” Bella said, “what is this about?”

“Does the name Ravenswood mean anything to you?” Musgrove asked.

The mention of the name brought back painful and embarrassing memories.

“Yes. Abner Ravenswood was my professor during my first years at university.”

“We know you studied under him and participated in several expeditions that some describe as miraculous, discovering relics nobody even knew existed.”

That was true.

Since her very first year, Bella had always thrown herself into adventures, and during those adventures she had uncovered treasures beyond imagination.

“Even though you’re still young in the field of archaeology—and a woman—you’ve developed quite a reputation as a guardian of relics,” Musgrove continued.

“Guardian of relics?” Eaton asked.

“I’m certain that everything she does falls entirely within antiquities law,” Marcus said with a smile.

“Where do you think Ravenswood might be?”

“I don’t know. I heard rumors he might be somewhere in Asia.”

The memory of Abner also brought another memory to Bella’s mind—a girl. A painful memory she did not want to revisit.

“Do you still keep in contact with him?” Eaton asked.

“Oh no. We had a small disagreement. We haven’t spoken in years.”

She called it small, but it had been quite a shock, both for Abner and for his daughter Marion, a girl of striking and exotic beauty.

The men grew more serious.

“What we are about to say is completely confidential,” Eaton said. “It cannot be leaked anywhere.”

Bella nodded.

“A few nights ago,” Musgrove continued, “American intelligence intercepted a German message referring to Ravenswood, the Staff of Ra, and a place called Tamis.”

“Wait… Tamis?” Bella felt the hairs on her arms rise. “Could it really be…?”

Her ears burned hot.

The mere mention of Tamis and what it represented was beyond extraordinary—the dream of every archaeologist in the world.

She straightened in her chair.

Could it possibly be true?

“What is in Tamis that has the Nazis so interested in it?” Eaton asked.

Bella looked directly at Musgrove.

“Tamis is the place where the Ark of the Covenant is possibly buried.”

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