The Smuggler's Seal

Going Back In

From that first find, Mattson knew he had found his calling. The excitement he felt at the dig, whenever he unearthed a new artifact or structure, the search to add that new treasure into the timeline of history, it was exhilarating. Nothing like what he was feeling now as he contemplated his decision to help Jacobi, and he knew in his heart he couldn't do it. He couldn't help steal these treasures because he knew what losing a treasure felt like as well, and his stomach made a quick stirring of discontent at the memory.

No, he couldn't help steal the treasures of Iraq, and he wouldn't allow Jacobi to do it either. He was going to try to stop him. He just had to figure out how.

The country was a literal war zone. Bombs were still falling across the city, blasting at Saddam Hussein's strong holds, forcing citizen and honest people toward deep shelter. Only the fighters and the looters chanced the streets, and they all had guns. So did Jacobi.  That's what worried Mattson.

Jacobi needed Mattson's expertise to vouch for the authenticity of the antiquities, but with the kind of money he was poised to make on selling off the seals, he wouldn't hesitate to use his gun on someone for interfering, even an old friend. Mattson would become one less person to cut in on the payout, one less liability. The seals were small enough that Jacobi didn't need help moving them, and finding another authenticator would be all too easy.

Mattson would have to be careful. He would have to play along until an opportunity presented itself and then act quickly. He might be killed for this. He'd likely be killed for this.  But that was a price he was willing to pay. If those seals hit the black market, they would disappear from public existence forever.

~~~

"The arrangements are all made Mattson," Jacobi told him the next morning. "We're hitching a ride with a Republican Guard contingent out of the city and across the border into Jordan. We'll be able to fly from there to the states."

"What did that cost you?" Mattson asked eyeing the seals, wondering if they had bought passage with some of them.

Jacobi followed his gaze and grinned.

"I didn't trade those Ba'athist zealots our loot if that's what you're worried about. Ghaihani is purchasing one of our pieces for 300 thousand and our tickets out of this infernal hell. Trust me Mattson, he'll take care of this gem." Jacobi palmed a nondescript brown seal and hid it in his pocket before Mattson could see which one it was. "His family's collection of Mesopotamian artifacts rivals anything in the world."

"All stolen I suppose?"

Jacobi shrugged. "I don't like to speculate Mattson. Pack up. We leave at dusk."

~~~

Mattson's head swam as he wrapped linens around the stone seals, mentally cataloging each one, stopping momentarily to study some of the rarer pieces. This was all moving so fast. He thought he would have time to sneak away and send out an SOS to the museum or the US military or someone. But he was running out of time. They were to leave in a few hours. He had to do something. He had to do it quick.

"Jacobi, do you think we could make one more trip to the museum before we leave?"

"Why?" Jacobi's asked, suspicion flashing through his sharp eyes.

"There's a piece," Mattson blurted. "One I've always fancied. It's small. Not hard to conceal at all. But... well..., well I've always been drawn to it you see, and if it's all free for the taking."

Jacobi laughed with relief. "Yeah alright Mattson, I'll take you in. Let's go."