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  THE PILATE SCROLL

  Praise for THE PILATE SCROLL

  “It has everything—a strong heroine, a sweet younger brother, a true hero, and pesky villains . . . I won’t give away the details, but it sure touched me! I highly recommend this book!"

  - Lenora Worth

  New York Times Best-Selling Author

  “WARNING: Sleep deprivation likely. This Christian thriller is a page-turner; more like a page burner. Think Indiana Jones meets God’s Not Dead!”

  - David Jeffers, Amazon Best-Selling Author of

  Man Up! What the Bible Says About Being A Man

  “…Lewis weaves into the story a spiritual dimension that is filled with the author’s excellent knowledge of the Bible, his deep understandings of the teachings of Jesus Christ, and the virtues of Christianity found in forgiveness, redemption, transformation, and healing.”

  - Dr. Karl K. Stegall, Pastor Emeritus

  First United Methodist Church Montgomery,Alabama

  “…a story that lifts both the soul and the heart rate.”

  - James R. Hannibal,

  Award-Winning Author of The Gryphon Heist

  “…an engaging action-filled romp through Europe and the Middle East steeped in religious symbolism and history…”

  - Publisher’s Weekly’s The Booklife Prize

  "Lewis courageously steps away from the mainstream to answer a higher call to deliver this epic Christian thriller. Well done!"

  - Gary Westfal, Best-Selling Author, Goal Mind

  “…let me just say there haven't been many action novels that moved me to tears. This one did… highly recommended novel for believers and nonbelievers alike."

  - Jason E. Fort, Creator and Author of Fortress Books

  “A little Indiana Jones, a little Da Vinci Code, and a whole lot of fun. “The Pilate Scroll” is the most exciting fiction I’ve read in years.”

  - Drew Allen, Author of Uncommon Sense

  DISCLAIMER: The views presented in this fictional work are those of the author and in no way reflect the views of persons, places, or institutions mentioned in the manuscript.

  Characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously while locations and names of historical figures may be used as reference to ground the reader. Any resemblance of characters and incidents to actual events and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright ©2021 by M.B. Lewis

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  First Printing: April 2021

  SATCOM Publishing

  * * *

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-7330989-3-9

  Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7330989-1-5

  E-Book ISBN: 978-1-7330989-2-2

  Cover Design by DaMonza

  * * *

  Printed in the United States of America

  Books by M.B. Lewis

  The Pilate Scroll

  The Jason Conrad Thriller Series

  written as Michael Byars Lewis

  * * *

  Retribution

  Surly Bonds

  The Right to Know

  Veil of Deception

  The Quiet Professional

  For my wife Kim, my son Derek, my daughter Lydia,

  and my grandson, James…

  Contents

  THE PILATE SCROLL

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by M.B. Lewis

  THE PILATE SCROLL

  1

  Port Said, Egypt

  The Market District

  * * *

  Samuel Jacobson was a dead man. Or at least he thought so. His phone call had been erratic, anxious—almost in a panic.

  “Brian, we have to go.” Kadie Jenkins stood and slid her iPhone back in the cargo pocket of her tan 5.11 cargo pants. She grabbed her purse and rose from the table in the back of the tiny restaurant, dragging her nineteen-year-old brother out before they had a chance to order their dinner. The restaurant sat tucked between shops selling hookahs on one side and women’s clothes on the other. The aroma of fresh bread and grilled meats dissipated, replaced by the pungent scent of car exhaust and camel dung.

  “It’s only a fifteen-minute walk back to the hotel,” Kadie said. “I bet we can make it in ten.”

  Brian stumbled behind her as they hurried along dusty streets. They turned into the souk, or open-air market, the brick-laid section of the market that was pedestrian-only this time of night. While many of the shops had their “roll-up” metal security doors pulled down, the market bristled with life.

  Vendors waved items in their faces, children tugged on their pant legs, and beggars held their palms up hoping for a handout. Her eyes studied everyone who came close, gauging their intentions in a moment’s glance. She was one of only a few women in the market not wearing a hijab.

  “Kadie slow down,” Brian said. His breathing came deep and awkward, despite being a regular participant in the Special Olympics.

  “Sorry, Brian. We could get a cab at the other end of the market. But by the time we find one, describe our hotel, and negotiate a price, we could walk to the hotel.” While she relished the exercise, she worried her pace was too much for him. He was fit for a young man with Down syndrome, but she moved swiftly.

  Their team had been in Egypt for almost three weeks. Starting in Cairo, the small group of seven from GDI, the Global Disease Initiative, had been scouring the city for clues to an ancient cure. Their quest had led them from the United States to Cairo, then to Port Said. Their four days here had not yet proven fruitful.

  The goosebumps on her skin reminded her of Samuel’s phone call. His message was brief yet concise: his life was in danger because he knew what they were really searching for. What did he mean? Their team was one of four positioned across the Middle East in search of their goal. Now, for some reason, Samuel questioned
what that was.

  GDI had been contracted by the United States government to locate an ancient cure for an even older virus—the hantavirus. Kadie researched the topic before they left for Egypt. Rodents generally spread it, and this strain was a particularly virulent “Old World” virus that had proven resistant to modern medicine.

  The Central Intelligence Agency learned that ISIS weaponized the hantavirus in aerosol form and planned to unleash it across the West. The virus was known at the CDC to cause hemorrhagic fever with renal syndrome. Initial symptoms include fever, chills, blurred vision, back and abdominal pain, and intense headaches known to bring a grown man to his knees. Later, those exposed would experience shock, low blood pressure, kidney failure, and vascular leakage—all in all, a nasty virus to thrust upon any population. The logistics involved in treating the virus were obvious.

  The unique thing about the “Old World” hantavirus, was that it had predominantly appeared in Europe and Asia. GDI discovered that the virus had been eliminated in the Middle East, which was odd, as rodents were prevalent throughout the region.

  Through one of their many connections, GDI learned of a legendary cure developed in ancient Israel around 30 A.D. The virus had a different name back then, but the symptoms were the same. The cure was a simple combination of plants and minerals. The formula was stored in a vase with Aramaic writing on the side and lay hidden for millennia. That was why she was here. Kadie was fluent in Latin, Greek, and Aramaic. The executive vice president for the Science and Technology Division of GDI had contacted her personally, telling her she was “uniquely qualified” for this job. Kadie was enthralled to join the team when the offer came.

  Samuel was in his early sixties, and he and Kadie had struck up a friendship at the beginning of their journey. He became her mentor and father figure, occasionally giving her advice on what to do with her career. Samuel was the team’s expert on carbon dating. His equipment was state-of-the-art, but other than testing its functionality the day after they arrived, he hadn’t used it. So, what did he discover? What did he know that was worth killing for?

  Halfway to the hotel, she mumbled something she shouldn’t have as she pulled out her phone and dialed. Her eyes darted toward her brother.

  “Do not c-cuss,” Brian said between heavy breaths.

  Brian. Her moral compass there to steer her back on course. She squeezed her brother’s hand. Brian always kept her grounded. What would she do when he was gone? But he was here now, and she needed to make sure he would be safe, something she had done for him since the day he was born.

  “Sorry, Brian. I just remembered I need to call Curt. He’s probably on his way to the restaurant to meet us.”

  “He is probably s-still wor—king.” Brian’s eyes darted back and forth. His speech impediment that made his ‘r’s sometimes sound like ‘w’s wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when he was younger, and his stutter only showed up when he was nervous.

  Kadie grimaced. Curt didn’t answer his phone. He was GDI’s security man and the only full-time employee on their team. Kadie left a message, telling him she was sorry, but she had to leave the restaurant. They’d talk later.

  Next, she called Samuel. He didn’t answer either. She slipped her phone back in her cargo pocket and glanced at her brother. He was doing all he could to keep up with Kadie and avoid the distractions of the numerous shops in the marketplace. Gasping, his jaw jutted forward, brow furrowed, and his eyes bulged. He had been reluctant to leave the restaurant; he must be starving. She had to plead with him to get him to budge.

  “We did not stay—for food. I am hungry,” Brian said.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I am, too.” Her eyes darted back and forth in search of something they could eat. A few moments later she smiled. Near the end of the market, a vendor baked and sold bread. They stopped next to the giant metal oven that extended back into a yellowing mud-brick building. The bread rolled out of the front like doughnuts at Krispy Kreme, and two men placed the warm food on a rack woven out of sticks to cool. Her limited vocabulary in conversational Arabic helped her in situations like this. Kadie bought two loaves of Aish Baladi, an Egyptian flatbread made with whole wheat flour, similar to a pita. Handing the bag of bread to Brian, they continued on their way.

  The dust of the market peeled away as they rounded the corner, and their hotel came into sight. Well-lit against the black sky, it sat on the edge of the water where the Suez Canal merged into the Mediterranean Sea. An outdoor restaurant sat to her left; the numerous tables had their umbrellas open, lit candles centered on each table. To her right, a small mosque lay nestled amongst other buildings. This street was far less crowded than the souk.

  “What do you think about Curt?” Her chestnut-brown hair bounced as she slowed her pace so Brian could keep up. She needed a conversation to take her mind off Samuel.

  “He is okay.” Brian looked away when he answered. Kadie knew what that meant. Brian’s instincts on people were spot on, and he wasn’t very fond of Curt. She wasn’t sure why; she was still trying to figure him out herself. Curt was a few years older than her. He was handsome, dashing, and brave—former Delta Force. There was something to be said for that.

  They entered the newly renovated hotel, leaving the Third World atmosphere behind them. Kadie sighed as they weaved through the crowded lobby and lumbered up the stairs to their room on the second floor. She dropped Brian off in their room before she went to check on Samuel.

  “Don’t leave,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay.” Brian moved to the couch and pressed the big green button on the television remote.

  Kadie closed the door; the hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and her heartbeat raced higher than usual. She hurried down the hall to Samuel’s room. Inside, she heard a loud crash and the sound of something hitting the wall, followed by a solid thud.

  That’s not good, she thought.

  Kadie tried the door handle. Locked. She pulled a small FOB out of her pocket. It was called a Gomer, a new device that opened almost any electronic lock. It had wreaked havoc on the hotel industry, but she had picked one up back in the States knowing she’d be living in hotels abroad for three months.

  She was hesitant to use it. She shouldn’t just barge into his room. Then came a second thud, followed by a muffled cry.

  Kadie swiped the FOB across the lock and pushed hard against the door. The door cracked open about two inches and abruptly stopped; the chain secured on the inside.

  “Samuel?” She peered through the gap; a body lay on the floor. Oh my, he’s had a heart attack. Kadie lowered her shoulder and bulldozed the door. It started to give way. On the second try, the chain burst free from the wall and the door flew open.

  Kadie gasped. In the center of the room, a large man stood over Samuel’s body, wearing a faded brown futa, the traditional Yemini male shirt, and black pants. A black keffiyeh covered his face, with only his eyes exposed.

  The man stood over Samuel, the bloody knife in his hand dripping on the floor.

  2

  Port Said, Egypt

  Resta Port Said Hotel

  * * *

  Kadie wanted to scream, but her survival instincts kicked in. She was a fighter and had been for years. Perhaps the assailant picked up on that. When she burst through the door, he hesitated for a brief moment, perhaps considering whether to stab her. He wisely chose the better option and fled out the window. Kadie started to follow him but realized he might not be the only one in the room.

  She scanned her surroundings until her eyes focused on the bedroom door. Picking up a small but dense statue off the coffee table, she crept toward the bedroom. As she had done at the entrance, she flung open the door and barged in.

  Empty.

  Rushing back to the window, she found the assailant gone. Kadie set her ad-hoc weapon on the credenza and ran to Samuel. His skin was pale, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, the once white shirt now a deep crimson in front. Her
two fingers pressed against his jugular vein, searching for a pulse. There was none. She pulled her portable compact out of a cargo pocket on her pants and placed the mirror under his nose. He wasn’t breathing.

  Her eyes watered with the realization her friend was dead. Could this be related to his phone call? He was on to something, but what? It was too coincidental for this to happen.

  Kadie rose and scurried to the bathroom to wash her hands. She turned on the water and picked up the soap. The blood sullied the white porcelain before disappearing down the drain. She breathed deep, and for the first time, noticed how rapid her heart pounded. After several deep breaths, she washed her face.