Stone of Fire: An ARKANE Thriller (Book 1)

Chapter 29

Tel Aviv, Israel.
 May 24, 4.34pm

      Morgan listened to Ben talk, fascinated by the journey of the stone of Simon the Zealot. They had Ben on speakerphone, with Martin Klein also connected from the ARKANE headquarters, hoping that between them they could locate the final Pentecost stone. Ben continued his story from what the Grand Master had told him.
     “Carl Jung travelled to the oasis of Nefta while he was in Tunisia, North Africa, in 1920. He felt the land was soaked with the blood of Carthage, Rome and later the Christians and evidently it was a powerful experience for him. His memoirs say he felt an alien sense of being a European in a Moorish, desert land. He recounted a powerful dream of being within a mandala of a citadel in the desert, where he fought with and then taught a royal Arab his secrets. Morgan, you’ve studied Jung’s writings in depth. Did he ever mention this Pentecost stone?”
     Morgan frowned. “I don’t remember Pentecost being mentioned specifically, but Jung was fascinated with stones as well as being obsessed with religious mythology. At his Tower in Bollingen on Lake Zurich, he engraved stones with sacred words and images. He created from his unconscious all the time so I’m sure he would have written about this if it meant something.”
     Ben spoke again. “If he was in North Africa in 1920, doesn’t that mean he was still working on the Red Book?”
     “Of course, the timing fits,” Morgan replied. “We should look there. It’s such an outpouring of his mind at that time.”
     “What’s this Red Book and why’s it so important?” Jake looked confused. All three of the others started talking at once, and then quietened to let Morgan continue.
     “The Red Book was Carl Jung’s personal inner journey written during a breakdown in his life. It’s an oversized red leather bound book with cream artist’s paper that he filled with calligraphy of his thoughts and paintings of his inner life, visions and dreams.”
     “Why haven’t I heard of it before? It sounds amazing,” Jake said.
     “It’s only recently been published for the first time. He wrote it between 1913 and 1929 and it’s truly a work of art. His family have protected it until now.”
     “So, how could the book help us?”
     “Jung painted what he saw in his unconscious and also what affected him,” Morgan continued. “There should be signs in the Red Book if he had found something spiritually significant. Jung was a mystic, struggling to reconnect ancient myths with the modern world. He even dreamt about the coming rivers of blood in Europe, which turned out to be the Second World War. He felt his mind was broken, but that left him open to divine inspiration, ideas and thoughts that the rest of us discard in the night.”
     Martin jumped in then, keen to add his opinion. His voice crackled over the line.
     “Many of the paintings in the Red Book are representations of mandala, the circle in the square which represents the inward journey of the soul. There are images of Egyptian myth and particularly of snakes, a spiritual image of renewal and creation as well as the Christian idea of it representing the Deceiver. The snake is a powerful symbol in many ...”
     Jake jumped in, cutting off his enthusiastic oratory. “Thanks, Martin, that’s enough for now. Could we get images of it, please?”
     “Of course, I’ll send them now. I’ve seen the real thing, Morgan. It’s amazing! I was assigned to be one of the few physically present when it came out of the Swiss vault and photographed. The colors are so fresh because the family have kept it pristine for years, with hardly a soul looking at it. You’re going to be amazed when you see it.”

     As they waited for the emailed images to arrive, Morgan thought about Martin seeing the actual Red Book. She had an oversized full color reproduction, but her professional jealousy was piqued by his unique experience. Working for ARKANE certainly had its benefits. The images arrived and they opened the first file. Morgan gasped and Jake leaned in closer.
     “Is that what I think it is?”
    The image showed a square room with turquoise patterned walls and a red and black checkered floor. In the center, a man knelt in worship, his head on the ground with arms reaching towards a small grey object in front of him. From that stone a pillar of fire and flames rose up, filling the room with sparks and smoke, billowing above the man as if about to consume him.
“I’ve seen that image many times,” Morgan said, “but never connected it with the Pentecost stones. It’s amazing. Perhaps Jung did experience something powerful, but unfortunately that doesn’t help us find the stone. Do you have any more information on where it might be now, Martin?”
     “I’ve pulled satellite images of the desert around Nefta where Jung may have seen the oasis. Perhaps the dream he describes and the painting were actually based on a real experience. There is an ancient citadel near the wadi in the desert constructed in the form of a mandala, a circle within a square. Perhaps he was taken there and had visions or an experience he chose to tell as a dream?”
     Morgan looked at Jake, her hopes colliding with doubts as they grasped at these faint possibilities.
“We only have time for one more journey before we must head to America at Everett’s request,” she said. “He’ll give us specific directions once we’re there. We have to make a move now to get this last stone, so we need to make a decision. Ben, what do you think?”
     The old monk was scribbling on his pad, but looked up again to the camera.
     “I think you should try this wadi, Morgan. The stone was last seen in North Africa, but there are no mentions of it in Jung’s writings, only this picture which looks to be in a walled place of some sort.”
     “What about Bollingen? Wouldn’t that be a more obvious choice?” she countered.
     “Jung’s tower has been so highly researched over the years,” Ben replied. “Every stone he carved and everything he did there has been completely analyzed by his followers. I don’t think there’s anything new to be learned there, but his brief period in the desert clearly impacted him greatly and yet very little was written about it. I believe he mentioned that he saw kingfishers at the citadel in the desert and we know that had a special meaning for him. Perhaps that means it was more important than he wanted to tell in his memoir.”
     Morgan nodded, “OK, it’s worth a shot. We don’t have any better options at this point.”
She said goodbye to Ben, his concerned eyes haunting her as they signed off the call.
     “That’s it then, we go to the desert of Tunisia.” Jake said decisively and shouted to the crew to get things moving, but Martin called them back to the phone.
     “Wait. I didn’t mention this before but it’s not deserted, Jake. The wadi is a natural fortress and our intel shows that it’s currently being used as a hideout and training facility for the local Arab Muslim extremist groups.”
     Jake sighed, “Sounds like a welcome party to me. Any chance we can slip in and out again without being noticed?”
     “Maybe if you can draw their fire away from the citadel, but do you want me to get a backup team organized anyway?”
    “Yes, see if you can mobilize Jared Rush’s team out of Egypt. They should be able to get there about the same time as us.”
 
     As the plane took off Morgan closed her eyes and willed herself to Faye and Gemma, sending positive thoughts to them, wherever they were. She remembered her father teaching her from the Talmud, reading that over every blade of grass was an angel whispering ‘grow, grow.’ If God cared for each blade of grass, then surely there must be a legion of angels watching out for her family.
    The plane leveled out at altitude and the smell of strong coffee made her open her eyes again. Jake set the black nectar down.
     “Let’s go through the information again. Martin sent the intel on the groups at the wadi citadel and I want to be sure we know what we’re getting into.”
     Martin had emailed them a whole stack of research information on Jung and the North African trip as well as satellite photos of the area and demographics about the local population. He had also included more of the images from Jung’s Red Book. Morgan flicked through them and came upon the image of a mandala which reminded her of the one that had been broken during the attack on her office in Oxford. That seemed so long ago now. Her voice was wistful as she said to Jake,
     “Some scholars think that this mandala represented Jung’s internal journey in Africa. He was immensely affected by spiritual places so perhaps the mandala is some kind of clue to the Wadi citadel? If that’s right, the stone would be in the center of the mandala, as it represents the journey into self, a spiraling descent into the spirit and soul of each human life. It must be accessed through the center of the citadel tower.”
     Jake was also paging through the notes.
     “Legend says that Nefta was founded by a grandson of Noah after the flood subsided, so it’s important in the myths of many faiths. When Jung went there, it was quiet and peaceful, but from Martin’s description it has all changed now. It used to be a Bedouin stopping place, with camels and old men smoking hashish, but now it could be an Al Qaeda training camp, or any other militant Islamic group since they all get labeled Al Qaeda these days. Whatever their provenance, we’re going to need that backup team.”
    Morgan heard the tinge of excitement in Jake’s voice and felt its echo within herself. She relished the thought of some action. After days of running away and being on the back foot, she felt an aggression that needed an outlet. Her anger was aimed at Everett, but she would let it out in Tunisia if that was the only way.

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