The Sword of Moses Read Online Free Page B

Sudan cruise from Sannar. Once they’d flown you there and you’d completed the job, you made your own way cross-country into Ethiopia, back to your family home in Addis Ababa, where your father had been on the British embassy’s staff for many years.” He glanced up at her. “That’s very impressive. Are you sure you’re not wasted as an academic?”
    Ava could feel her blood rising.
    Was he purposefully trying to provoke her?
    Hunter intervened with a slight smile. “Dr Curzon, let me assure you, you’re among friends here.” He tapped the DIA file. “We know you followed in your father’s footsteps, and that after graduating you worked for a number of years with the British Secret Intelligence Service, MI6.”
    Ava could feel the tension in the room mounting.
    Was that what this was about?
    “I’m not allowed to talk about it,” she replied. Despite the unwanted memories, her voice stayed calm. “And I don’t particularly want to, either.”
    There was an uneasy silence.
    “You were top of your intake.” It was Ferguson again. “I see you were the first ever female MI6 officer to work in theatre on an operation with the Increment. That’s also very impressive.” There was a look of genuine curiosity on his face. “Why did you leave?”
    She shook her head. “I said I can’t talk about it. Let’s just say I’d had enough.” It was more than she wanted to say, but it was the truth.
    “So you returned to your first love,” he continued. “Archaeology?”
    She nodded.
    The woman to Hunter’s left cleared her throat. Looking over at her, Ava realized for the first time how tall she was, even sitting down.
    “Dr Curzon, my name is Anna Prince,” the woman began. “I’m with the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency in DC. We’d like you to have a look at this.” Her accent was east coast—calm and precise.
    The lighting above them dimmed, and the squat projector in the middle of the table hummed into life, throwing a dusty tunnel of light onto the far wall.
    The projected image was of a golden box, about the size of a packing trunk.
    Ava looked at it with professional interest, but it only took her a few milliseconds to recognize it.
    “It’s a model of the Ark of the Covenant,” she said, feeling a bit absurd. She had not been flown to the largest American military base in the world outside the U.S. just to tell them that. Most of the GIs within its razor-wired perimeter could have said as much.
    “What can you tell us about it?” Prince asked.
    Ava looked at the picture more closely. “It’s a photograph of a model—an artist’s impression of what the Ark of the Covenant might have looked like.”
    “Why just an impression?” Hunter asked, frowning. “What does the real one look like?”
    Ava shook her head. “No one knows. There are no carvings, sculptures, or paintings. All recreations are just informed guesswork based on a brief description in the Bible.”
    “What can you tell us about this particular model?” Prince asked. “Is there anything that jumps out?”
    Ava looked back at the image glowing on the wall. “It’s hard to judge the scale, but it looks perhaps a bit larger than normal. More unusual, too. Most of today’s models are broadly similar, but I haven’t seen one quite like this before.” She picked up the laser pointer on the table. “May I?”
    Hunter nodded.
    Ava aimed the pinprick of light at the two winged statues dominating the Ark’s golden lid.
    “From an artistic point of view, this model has some unique features. For instance, the angels on the lid, called cherubim, are atypical. It’s a poor quality photograph, and I can’t see them clearly because their wings are in the way, but it looks like there’s a hint of something Egyptian there.”
    “Egyptian?” Prince asked, frowning. “What does that mean?”
    “It means,” Ava replied, “the artist is a clear thinker, and not someone who sheepishly follows the crowd. Most people depict