Vehicles of all kinds circled the runway in an ordered chaos typical of a big city at rush hour. The jet waited for Sarah, ready for departure. They arrived in a black SUV with tinted windows, driven by one of Garvis's agents, who sat in the backseat with Sarah and Jean-Paul. Sarah carried only a simple leather folder pressed between her hands. Inside it contained the most important parchments in Chris tianity, and Sarah was deathly afraid of losing them. Her nervousness made it hard to breathe. The sickness threatened to return. She should never have agreed to do this. Who did she think was judging her? Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who was ever ready to resolve the problems the church got into? Friendly couples like the Isaacs? How she longed for a normal life, without thousand-year-old secrets, or any secrets, without the human cruelty that prevailed everywhere, especially on the highest levels.
