Page 58 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Johan

The desert stretches endlessly before me, a vast expanse of golden sands shimmering under the relentless January sun.

The air is dry and hot, a constant reminder of the harsh environment we're working in.

Yet, amidst this barren landscape, the excitement of uncovering ancient secrets keeps our spirits high.

Our excavation site at Shisr is a bustling hive of activity.

Tents dot the area, and archaeologists move purposefully between them, tools in hand.

The hum of conversation, the scrape of shovels against the earth, and the occasional clang of a discovered artifact fill the air.

The site is both chaotic and meticulously organized, a testament to the dedication of our team.

As I carefully catalog a set of pottery shards, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing a message from Ludovic asking me to come to his tent immediately. My curiosity piqued, I press the record button and slip the phone back into my pocket, wondering what could be so urgent.

The walk to Ludovic’s tent is brief, but it gives me time to gather my thoughts.

The tent flaps rustle in the slight breeze, and I take a deep breath before stepping inside.

Ludovic stands at a makeshift desk, swirling a glass of whiskey.

His posture is relaxed, but there’s a tension in his eyes that makes me wary.

“Come in, Johan,” he says, his voice smooth but carrying an undertone of seriousness. “Have a seat.”

I step inside, noting the pieces of jewelry spread out on his desk—gold bracelets, earrings, and a necklace encrusted with gems. Each piece is a tangible link to a long-forgotten past, yet their presence here feels ominous. Ludovic’s demeanor is oddly hospitable, and it puts me on edge.

“Can I get you a drink?” he offers, lifting his glass slightly.

“No, thank you,” I reply, taking a seat. My mind races, trying to anticipate what’s coming next.

Ludovic begins to pace around the tent, his movements deliberate. He stops in front of me and sits down, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken.

“We have to go to London in a few days,” he announces, his tone matter-of-fact. “You’re the only one I trust to join me. And since you’re my future son-in-law, I think it’s important to let you in on a little secret.”

My heart skips a beat, and I lean forward slightly, trying to read his expression. “What’s this about, Ludovic?”

“You’re most likely aware of the huge debt your dad owes me,” Ludovic says, his voice calm but laced with a hint of menace.

“I am, yes. He told me about it,” I reply, my stomach tightening at the memory.

“Well, you see those pieces?” Ludovic continues, standing up and picking up a gold bracelet.

He holds it up, the metal glinting in the dim light.

“These bracelets are believed to belong to the royal guards; they are made of gold, and they are being sold at ￡40,000 a piece in the underground market. We currently have five of those. That necklace you see there, estimated at ￡250,000.”

“I see.” I keep my tone neutral, waiting for him to continue.

“I have a contact, an art dealer who wants to meet me. If your loyalty continues just as it has been, I will cancel the debt your dad owes me once the expedition is over.” Ludovic’s eyes bore into mine, gauging my reaction.

I nod slowly, processing everything. “So, you’d like me to help you transport those pieces to London discreetly enough not to draw attention from the Omani officials and help you sell them to your contact?”

Ludovic’s eyes gleam with approval, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Exactly. There will still be enough artifacts to expose in a museum, don’t worry,” he says, waving a hand dismissively.

“But what about Cambridge? Professor Anderson is really counting on us to bring the best to the labs for a careful examination.”

“Not the jewelry, Johan. Everything made of gold, precious stones, and diamonds doesn’t need to be in a lab,” Ludovic replies, his tone turning slightly impatient.

I nod again, knowing we’re being recorded. “Very well. When should we leave?”

“In three days' time. It will be a quick stay, one night only. We go, we sell, and we come back,” Ludovic says, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Sure, I’ll get ready,” I say, standing up.

Before I can walk away, though, Ludovic stands in front of me, his gaze piercing. “Not a word to Astrid or anyone about this. Okay? This little chat stays strictly between us.”

“Understood,” I say, meeting his eyes.

As I turn to leave, Ludovic calls out to me, his voice stopping me in my tracks. “One more thing, Johan,” he says, his tone carrying a weight that sends a chill down my spine.

I turn around slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Yes?”

He steps closer, the flickering light casting shadows across his face. “Make sure you’re ready for anything. This isn’t just a simple trip. There are… complications that could arise. Stay sharp.”

I nod, feeling the gravity of his words settle heavily on me. “I understand. I’ll be prepared.”

“Good,” Ludovic says, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

I take a deep breath and ask, "What should I tell the rest of the team about our sudden departure?"

Ludovic’s smile widens, a glint of cunning in his eyes. “Just say we had a family emergency. It’s vague enough not to invite too many questions.”

“Got it,” I reply, turning once more to leave.

As I exit the tent, the desert air feels cooler against my skin. The stakes have just gotten higher, and the game is more dangerous than ever. The desert around me feels even more desolate, a stark contrast to the treacherous path I now find myself on.

Back in my tent, I pull out my phone and call Lukas. He arrives quickly, concern etched on his face. We sit down, and I take a deep breath before speaking.

“I have to leave for London in three days with Ludovic,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “He told me there’s a family emergency.”

Lukas frowns, skepticism clear in his eyes. “A family emergency?”

“Yes,” I reply, meeting his gaze. “It’s unexpected, but we need to work together to supervise the site while I’m gone.”

Lukas shakes his head slightly, disbelief evident on his face. “This seems… unusual, Johan.”

Before he can press further, I lower my voice and lean in. “You know why I’m going,” I whisper, making sure no one else can hear. “We’ll catch him soon. Everyone stays vigilant, and if you find the Star, make sure he knows nothing about it.”

Understanding dawns in Lukas’s eyes, and he nods. “Got it,” he says, his voice hushed. “We’ll keep everything running smoothly.”

“Good,” I say, feeling a sense of relief that he’s on the same page. “We can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Don’t you think we shall talk to Rachid? He’s been of great support and?—”

“Once I come back,” I reply, cutting him off. “Otherwise, he’ll never let us go, and we’ll not gather the evidence to prove he’s a treasure hunter.”

Lukas nods in agreement and then walks away.

As he leaves, I feel a renewed sense of determination. I heave a long sigh, the weight of Ludovic’s words and the responsibility ahead pressing down on me.

This is a dangerous game, but I'm more than ready to play.

Ludovic and I step out of the car, the cool night air wrapping around us as we approach the library in the center of London.

The wind and rain are a stark contrast to the blistering heat of the desert we left behind, adding an eerie atmosphere to our clandestine mission.

The library appears to be just another old, dusty repository of books to an outsider, but there's an undercurrent of tension in the air, something that sets my nerves on edge.

Ludovic leads the way, and we enter through a side door, avoiding the main entrance. We navigate through narrow aisles lined with towering shelves, the smell of old paper and leather binding thick in the air. Finally, we stop in front of a bookcase.

Ludovic pulls a particular book, and the bookcase swings open, revealing a hidden door. My pulse quickens as we step through it. We descend a narrow, spiral staircase into a secret basement. The sound of our footsteps echoes off the stone walls, and I can’t help but feel a thrill of apprehension.

The staircase opens up into a large room, and I’m taken aback by its opulence.

Rich Persian carpets cover the floor, their intricate patterns almost hypnotic.

Velvet armchairs, their deep hues inviting, are strategically placed around the room.

The walls are lined with dark wood paneling, and brass sconces cast a warm, golden light that flickers like candle flames.

Against one of the walls of the room stands a massive oak table, its surface already covered with a collection of the artifacts we found at the site of Shisr. There are ancient jewels that sparkle under the light, gold coins that gleam with a dull luster, and various other relics that hint at untold histories.

My eyes widen, trying to make sense of what’s going on.

When I turn to Ludovic, he simply stands beside me, lowers his voice, and says, “Watch, kid. Watch and learn.”

I’m confused, but before I can ask anything, the door opens again.

A Black man in his fifties, wearing a sharp gray suit and holding an exquisite walking cane, enters with three people behind him.

His presence commands attention. His grey hair, styled in neat dreadlocks, frames a face marked by a lifetime of experiences.

He wears tinted glasses and carries himself with a calm, authoritative air.

I wonder who he is, but Ludovic steps forward immediately.

I extend my hand, and Loki shakes it firmly. His grip is strong, his eyes piercing even through the tinted glasses. “Good,” he says, his attention quickly shifting to the table filled with artifacts.