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Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1866354
Action ,Adventure ,Mystery ,Ancinecnt Relics lost to the sands of time uncovered again!!!

                                                      The Quest For Knowledge




      It was the fall of 1969 and I was on my way to Oxford to report for duty as professor

Thomas Ferguson's new assistant.  I had received the news of the job offer early that

summer and had been anticipating this wonderful job opportunity ever since.  Professor

Ferguson was over the Archeology Department at Oxford specializing in Biblical artifacts.

    After I arrived in Oxford, I was walking up to the professor's office door and noticed that

the lights were off.  I knocked on the door three times and called out his name, "Professor,

Professor Ferguson."  But I heard no response, so I turned the door handle and it was

unlocked.  I let myself in and much to my surprise I found the professor sitting in the

dark with his thoughts a million miles away. 
   
    "Professor , are you alright?" I asked

    "No, I have just received the biggest let down of my life," he declared.

    "Professor, I am your new assistant, Larry Osten, how can I help?" I said.

    "Larry, glad you are here.  If you truly want to help , I need to find a way for

us to get to Ireland to recover the lost diary of the apostle Peter.  The school has refused

to send me,"  he replied.

  Fortunately, I was able to help the professor.  My dad had a close friend

that was a boat captain.  So, the professor and I gathered  our belongings  and we

were off to the seaside to secure passage to Ireland. 

    When we arrived at the captain's house he welcomed us with open arms.

The captain's name was Ewan Douglas.  My father had known him from their

Navy days.

    "What can I do for you, my boy?" he asked.

    "We need a boat to Ireland," I replied.

    He shouted, "Ireland, are you mad?  There is a revolution going on

over there!"

    The professor added, "We would pay you handsomely.  It is urgent

that we get to Ireland to recover the lost diary of the apostle Peter."

    "I don't care about your money.  I do, however care about my life and

yours, Larry, as you are my dear friends son," the captain replied.

    "This is very important to me and my father would approve of

this journey,"  I stated.

    "I am sure he would be most indebted to you for helping his son," the professor replied.

    "Alright then when do we start?"  the captain asked.

    "Tomorrow at dawn,"  the professor stated.

    We arrived in Ireland the following evening.  The boat trip was uneventful.

But I knew we would have quite the adventure in Ireland. 

    We rendezvous with a friend of the captain's once on shore who escorted

us to Belfast.  But waiting outside the city of Belfast was an IRA blockade.

The only way for us to enter the city  was through the sewers.

    "So this is the only way into the city?"  I asked.

    Our escort replied, "The IRA will kill you and me, if they

find out that you are British citizens.  We must keep out of

site."

    We went through a complex underground system that

was part of the sewer system.  We reached what he called

the safe house and came up through the "fake" toilet.

It was a dirty job but the professor was determined to get

the missing diary and I was determined to help the professor.

    "So where is the place that holds the lost diary of the apostle Peter professor ?"  I asked.

The professor replied, "Well according to my research the place that holds the missing

diary is the church in the middle of town."
 
    "I know how we can travel though the city without being seen by the IRA.

And I have the fastest ride to get there professor Ferguson." our guide stated.

    "Really how?"  asked the professor.

    "Simple, come over here,"  the guide said.

    He showed us over to a closet  which appeared to be nothing special on the outside,

but its contents proved otherwise. Inside the closet there were IRA uniforms.  He also

showed us a jeep that would take us to the church and back.  I was a little skeptical that

this crazy idea would not work at all, but the professor believed we could pull it off. 

And if its good enough for him then, it's good enough for me.
 
  As we made our way through the city streets in the jeep, I could not help but wonder if

we would find the diary in the church.

  "Are we almost there yet?" I inquired.

  "About a few minutes away.  Why?"  the professor asked.

  "The suspense is killing me.  I must know if the diary is at the church or not,"  I said.

  "Calm down Larry," the professor said,  " We're about to find one of the greatest

Biblical artifacts ever! I can just feel it!"  the professor stated excitedly.

  "All righty lads here we are." the guide said.

  We walked into the church there was not a soul around.  We searched the entire

church, but could not find the diary.  But then the professor walked up to the alter

and discovered a secret trap door that led to an undergrounded vault.  As we crawled

through the trap door to the vault we realized that the vault was locked and he

would need to figure out the combination.  The professor was in a deep train of thought.

Finally, he spoke.

  "Grace and peace be given to you more and more, because you truly know God and

Jesus our Lord,"  the professor declared.

    "What are you talking about?" I asked.

    The professor explained that he had been studying I and II Peter to prepare for

this journey and this verse had stuck in his head.  So he thought maybe that II Peter chapter

1 verse 2 could be the combination to the vault.  So we tried 22 left (II Peter is the 22nd book

in the New Testament) 1 right and 2 left. 

    As we turned the combination the vault slowly opened and we entered.  There in the

back corner of the vault laid the diary of the apostle Peter.  We were amazed at our find.  We

returned to the main floor of the church only to find the IRA soldiers searching

the building.  The soldiers seen us emerging from the hole onto the alter.

    The soldiers grabbed us and pushed us up against the wall.  One of the soldiers

called over their captain, Captain O'Connell.  The professor had a strange look

on his face when he heard the name.

    "Well, well, if it isn't my old rival from Oxford, Thomas Ferguson,"  the captain spoke.

    "Professor, you know this man?"  I asked.

    The professor responded, "Yes, he was my rival back when I was a student at

Oxford.  I had caught him selling  artifacts on the black market.  He was

thrown out of Oxford and sent back to Ireland."

    "Yes, that is why I have turned against the British and fight for the freedom of

all of Ireland.  Now, give me what you found,"  the captain demanded.

    "I didn't find anything," the professor retorted.

    The captain backhanded the professor and forcefully removed the diary of

the apostle Peter from his coat.

    "This will fetch a fine price!"  O'Connell exclaimed.

    The professor shouted angrily, "That belongs in a museum!"

    The professor began struggling with O'Connell.  So I grabbed some candlesticks

and began hurling  them at his men.  As the professor was still struggling with the captain,

I grabbed another candlestick and whacked the captain once over the head.  He fell to

the floor and the professor grabbed the diary.  We made a dash for the door and made

our escape from the building.

    As we were driving off, we didn't think O'Connell would follow us but behind

us in another jeep rode O'Connell.  He grabbed a rifle and began firing on us.

Our guide swerved the jeep to avoid the bullets. 

    "Can this thing go any faster?"  I asked.

    "Not unless you want to get out and start pushing it!" the guide yelled.

    "Do you have a gun?" asked the professor.

    "Yes, I have a pistol under the passengers seat," the guide declared.

    The professor  grabbed the gun and aimed for the tires of  O'Connell's jeep.  The

shot was dead on target.  Their jeep spun out of control and crashed. Thats when

we were able to make our escape. 

    A few hours later we met Captain Douglas at the docks and boarded the boat

back to England.  The professor was able to bring the lost diary of the apostle Peter back

to Oxford where it was given a proper home for all to view.  The professor was given

the Victorian Cross for outstanding service for his country. The Professor and I

became are nations newest heroes. I never felt more happier in all my life.

  The end 
© Copyright 2012 James Kinney (conwrites at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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