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With darkness settled over the small town of Mtskheta, Georgia, Vano and Zurab quietly unlocked and opened the side door to the Cathedral of the Twelve Apostles. Each of them carried two of the new tool cases that they acquired from Tafar earlier in the day and they walked inside and locked the door behind them. They respectfully genuflected as they passed in front of the altar, and the two men looked at each other finding irony in the fact that they were paying respect right before they attempted to steal one of the greatest Christian relics of all time. They walked down the dark center aisle to the front of the cathedral and stopped to review Tafar’s instructions using a flashlight.
Vano read the instructions aloud, “Starting at the front entrance of the church facing the altar, walk toward the altar, count the pews and stop at the tenth pew on the right.”
Zurab followed the instructions and walked up to the tenth pew, stopped and said, “Okay, now what?”
“Walk into the pew, and count five paces to roughly the middle of the pew.”
Zurab walked in to the middle of the pew and stared at Vano for more instructions.
“Pick any set of four tiles on the floor and dig down from there,” Vano said as he also walked over to inspect the area.
“This looks good,” he said, as he bent down and lifted the kneeler to inspect the marble floor tiles. He ran his finger around the perimeter of the four tiles and was ready to go to work.
“Get me the small circular saw, were going straight down here. We’ll cut straight through the floor and put in some wooden braces so we could refit the tiles back in each night when we leave, and no one will be the wiser.”
Zurab handed Vano the saw, sat down in the seat and asked, "Are you sure we could pull this off?”
“Are you kidding, we have the best tools known to modern man. These are the tools that they use in the diamond mines, there are none better.”
“But if we get caught, we will not only lose our jobs, but we’ll go to prison.”
“You’re worrying about nothing, Tafar and the old man have thought this whole thing through, and there’s a good chance that the old man could pull some strings and bail us out if we get caught. Besides, do you want to work here as a custodian for the rest of your poor miserable life, moping floors all freaking day long, or do you want to be rich. This is probably God’s way of telling you that you deserve this for the many years you spent slaving here for a pauper’s wage.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Zurab said.
“I know I’m right, if you don’t deserve to unearth the hidden cloak of Christ, then who the hell does? Get the suction lift handles so we could pull up these tiles after I cut them out.”
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