by H. B. Moore
“Sorry,” she said.
“Never thought I’d be telling you to take it easy.” Omar realized his shoulder had probably been hurting the whole time they’d been kissing, but the pain was hard to distinguish from the pleasure.
Mia smiled and ran her fingers along the stubble on his cheeks. She leaned close, tempting him again, and said, “I think you need sleep before we chase down Ismail and you retire.”
He breathed her in, wanting to lose himself again. “You’re telling me what to do?”
“Yes, Mr. Zagouri, and you’re going to have to accept it.” Mia gave him another kiss that was over much too soon, then gently pushed against him, forcing him to lie down. All too quickly, she rose and left the tent with a final backward glance.
Omar stretched his good arm behind his head. The pain in his other shoulder was fierce, but it hardly bothered him now. He liked what he’d seen in Mia’s eyes. Reconciliation.
CHAPTER
48
Shisur, Oman
They spent hours inside the tomb, taking pictures and recording information. When Jade and Lucas climbed the ramp, Jade felt exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. Mia and Alem sat together beneath a group of palms, undoubtedly poring over the poem.
Lucas grabbed Jade’s arm and pointed upward at the approaching helicopter.
“Take cover!” Mia shouted.
Everyone headed toward the ruins and hid next to the groups of fallen stones.
“What’s going on?” Jade asked Mia after the noise of the helicopter faded.
“That helicopter was private, probably doing surveillance,” Mia said.
Lucas stood, pulling Jade with him. “Not military, not media, so that leaves only one conclusion.”
“AWP is on their way.” Mia took out Omar’s satellite phone and dialed. “I’ll find out how close the military is.”
“When you’re finished, meet us in Omar’s tent. We need to make a plan,” Lucas told her.
Just then, the desert rumbled with trucks, vans, jeeps, and busloads of people, sounding as if a horde of locusts were approaching. The first to arrive was a television crew from Salalah. A thin man with a kaffiyeh wrapped about his head climbed out of his van. The sliding door opened, and two more people hopped out, one with a camera perched on his shoulder. A neatly dressed fellow with a trim mustache ran forward, holding a microphone out to Jade.
“Ready for this?” Lucas asked Jade. “It looks like we may have just been saved by the media.”
“What about that helicopter?”
“It undoubtedly saw the approaching trucks and will report.”
“Can I defer the questions to you?”
He chuckled. “Only the technical ones.”
She glanced in the direction of the tomb opening. The Yemeni workers stood guard, their weapons in easy sight.
The newsman broke out in rapid Arabic until Lucas interrupted, “English, please.”
Jade was astonished when the man switched languages as if he were turning on a light.
“Madam, are you the one who found the tomb?”
“Yes.”
Several pictures were snapped. “Who is buried there?” the reporter asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Jade said.
The cameraman finished setting up, and he said something in Arabic to the interviewer.
“Okay. We begin again, eh?”
Jade smiled. The questioning lasted only another minute when they were interrupted by another vehicle approaching.
“Everyone woke up early this morning,” Lucas said. A Land Cruiser stopped, and the cameras turned toward it. A man exited, wearing Western clothing. He was tall with dark hair, his short beard nearly gray. He carried an air of authority and was obviously someone used to being respected. He waved at the camera crews and strode over to Lucas and Jade.
“I don’t believe it,” Lucas said.
“Who is he?” Jade asked.
Before Lucas could explain, the man stopped in front of Jade. “Ms. Holmes? I’m Dr. Izzy Stein. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jade was dumbfounded. This man was one of the most notable archaeologists in the world. She shook his hand, thinking of the books he’d authored, his many articles, his words quoted in history classes—and he knew her name.
Next he shook Lucas’s hand. “Dr. Morel, nice to see you again.”
“And you, Dr. Stein.”
The archaeologist smiled. “It seems there’s a tomb to date.”
Lucas laughed. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t know if you’d receive my message or if your schedule would allow you to come.”
Dr. Stein shrugged. “Nothing much was happening in Megiddo, so here I am.”
Another bus arrived, filled with eager reporters. Lucas waved off the media, saying, “We’ll make statements in about an hour. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Lucas turned to Dr. Stein. “Let’s talk in private. Jade and I have a lot to share with you.”
Less than an hour later, Stein had been fully briefed. Alem sat with the men as they dissected the poem. Jade alternated between hovering inside the tent and checking on Omar. Mia had mellowed considerably and seemed to appreciate Jade’s help with Omar. But every time Jade went outside, the media would scramble for her. So finally, she just stayed inside the tent and listened to the men.
“If there really are seven tombs, you’ve found one tomb already—two, if you count the one in Jerusalem,” Stein was saying.
Lucas nodded. “I don’t know if the seven tombs are right here in Shisur or if they span the globe.”
“Let’s find out.” Stein rose to his feet and looked at Jade. “Can you tell the press we’ll have a statement before nightfall? Then join us if you can.”
Jade hurried outside with the message. On her way, she spotted a convoy of vehicles approaching from the horizon. The dust billowed behind the lead SUV, and flags rose from each side of the black Land Rover.
She ran to find Lucas, who was fielding off a variety of questions from several media personnel on his way to the tomb. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing.
He squinted against the sun. “The sultanate of Oman, Sultan Bakarat ibn Murshid.”
And the vehicles kept coming. “It looks as if he’s brought some assistants,” Stein said.
Jade watched with fascination at the protocol taking place. Bodyguards stepped out of their vehicles before escorting the sultan to the site. Lucas tugged Jade along with him to greet the man, and Stein followed. All eyes focused on Lucas as he stepped forward with a slight bow.
The sultan nodded to Jade, then turned to Lucas. “Tell me of this discovery.”
Lucas said, “The tomb dates to possibly the tenth century BC at the latest. We won’t know for sure until we do carbon testing. Dr. Stein is here—”
“Is it the queen of Sheba’s tomb?” the sultan asked.
“The names of Batal and Wila’at appear many times on the walls. We are not sure which name represents the person within the sarcophagus.”
“Wila’at is the Omani name for the Sabaean queen,” the sultan observed.
“Yes, but that only raises more questions.”
“Of how she came to rest at Shisur?”
“Exactly.”
Jade was impressed with the sultan’s knowledge.
“When will you know if she honored our country with her last repose?” the sultan asked.
“As soon as we have the proper equipment to date the artifacts. The equipment is on its way. In the meantime, Dr. Stein will be able to make some fairly accurate observations.”
The sultan stroked his chin as he gazed at Lucas. “I have read some of your studies and findings in other places. The Coptic patriarch called me last night and told me of the discovery, reiterating the faith he has in your ability. I’
ll consider putting you in charge of this excavation.” He turned to Jade. “Please let my advisors know if there is anything you require.”
“Thank you,” Jade said, self-conscious about the attention.
After a few more minutes of discussion with Lucas, the sultan said, “I’ll let you do your work, Dr. Morel and Dr. Stein. I look forward to your findings.”
Jade watched the man leave, then was surprised to see Mia approach her. By the expression on her face, Jade knew something was terribly wrong.
“Come with me,” Mia said. She remained silent as Jade followed her to Omar’s tent. They stepped into the stuffy interior.
Omar was propped up on his bedroll. His ashen color had faded. He looked healthy, but his expression was grave. “Tell her.”
“All right. We know . . .” Mia cleared her throat. “I know how Dr. Lyon died.”
Jade felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “How?”
Mia produced some papers. One was a picture of an envelope.
Jade read the Latin words. “How long have you known this?”
“The patriarch sent me the information a few days ago. This envelope was delivered to Dr. Lyon in his office. It contained cyanide.” She looked over at Omar. “A second envelope was sent to the Coptic pope. That envelope was never opened.”
Hot tears burned against Jade’s eyelids.
“Go on,” Omar said, his voice sounding angry.
“The people . . . the man we think is responsible for this is on his way here.”
Jade stared at Mia. “Is he going to be arrested?”
“Well, it’s kind of complicated.”
Jade felt the back of her neck heat up. “How?” She hoped this wasn’t a case of a murderer being let off because of a technicality.
Mia pursed her lips, but Omar’s voice boomed in the tent. “Because he’s our boss.”
Jade looked at Omar. “You work for the guy who killed Dr. Lyon?”
“Technically, he just ordered the killing—” Mia said.
“Mia,” Omar interrupted and then looked at Jade. “The man who’s responsible for the attempted assassination on the Coptic patriarch and the successful murder of Dr. Lyon is David Levy, senior intelligence officer of the Northern Israeli Command.”
He produced a small electronic device. “Mia placed a bug in a high-ranking official’s office before we picked you up at the hospital. This recording just came in. The man who’s speaking is the director of the GOAMM.” He turned up the volume.
Jade listened to the chilling words with horror.
Forget your operation. Call Levy right away, and tell him plans have changed. I want the patriarch dead by midnight. Tell Levy to be more discreet than he was with Dr. Lyon’s death. And this time, don’t screw it up. The breaking news of his assassination will be a diversion, and it will buy us time.
Time for what?
To destroy Shisur. If we can’t have the queen, no one gets her.
Omar switched it off. “Ten minutes ago, Mia received an e-mail from the patriarch. He told her to plan on receiving him at Shisur today.”
“The patriarch’s coming here?”
“Yes,” Mia said in a faint voice, looking as if the news had come as a shock.
“What should we do?” Jade asked. “We need to warn him.”
Omar stood with some effort. “You have to talk Lucas into leaving Shisur. We need to weave a good tale to get the media out of here. This place is going to be a battle zone.”
“What about you and Mia?”
“Levy doesn’t know we know,” Omar said. “We’ll find a way to protect the patriarch and play along with Levy until we have an opportunity to either expose him or get away ourselves.”
“How long do we have?” Jade asked.
Mia glanced at her watch. “Less than an hour.”
Jade’s head started buzzing, and she wondered if she’d be sick. Then she realized the buzzing was coming from outside.
Mia pushed past her and lifted the tent flap. “It’s too late.”
CHAPTER
49
Shisur, Oman
“Damn,” Omar said, hobbling out of the tent.
He stopped by Jade and Mia, staring to the south. Clouds of dust rose from the desert floor as the distant buzzing turned to loud rumbling. A convoy of vehicles approached from the horizon, dust blooming behind the lead SUV, flags perched on each side.
The lounging media crews frantically gathered their stuff, trying to move it out of the way. Omar looked toward the excavation site. A massive tent had been set up to shade the sultan. His military personnel stood at attention, their rifles poised.
One by one, the vehicles arrived.
A heavyset man stepped out of a Lexus, and bodyguards surrounded him as he strode to the sultan’s tent. “Who’s that?” Jade asked.
“Dr. Abdallah Saleh al-Qadi, the director of GOAMM,” Omar said.
“Is he . . . ?” Jade asked.
“The voice on the recording,” Mia said. “I’d love to hear what he says to the sultan.”
“Does the sultan know?” Jade asked.
Mia shook her head. “As far as the sultan is concerned, al-Qadi is just doing his job—investigating the new tomb for the General Organization for Antiquities, Manuscripts, and Museums.”
More men poured out of the vehicles, all of them armed.
One of the last men looked familiar. “There’s Rabbel,” Omar said.
Mia turned away.
“Are you all right?” Omar asked.
“I want to kill him.” She swiped at her cheeks.
“Me too.” Omar put an arm around her. “This will all be over soon. Alem will go ballistic when he sees Rabbel.”
Omar walked the women back to the tent. He grabbed a kaffiyeh from his bag and wrapped it around his head. “I’ll see if I can bring Alem over here without Rabbel noticing. Are you going to be all right in the tent?”
Mia reached for her rifle and checked the ammo. “Of course.” She smiled thinly at him. “If anything happens, I want the first shot.”
“You got it.” He turned to Jade. “Mia will hook you up with a gun.”
Jade’s eyes widened.
Omar left them and kept to the outskirts of the action. His shoulder was on fire, but he moved quickly, scanning for Alem as he walked around the tents and media vehicles. The media crews started to assemble again, strangely quiet. It was as if they sensed something important was going on.
Just about the same time Omar saw Alem leaning against a news truck, Lucas and another man emerged from the tomb shaft. The media reporters rushed toward them. Omar kept one eye on the sultan’s tent, where al-Qadi and Rabbel were, and the other on Alem.
The Ethiopian seemed oblivious to Rabbel’s presence. As Omar drew closer, he understood why. A pretty brunette was exclaiming over Alem’s bandages, and Alem had a grin plastered on his face. Omar smiled. His friend seemed to feel a lot better.
Before he could vie for Alem’s attention and warn him about Rabbel, the sound of a helicopter filled the air. Omar looked up, adrenaline surging through him. The helicopter that approached was neither military nor commercial. The chopper landed, and the doors opened. The pilot stepped out first, and Omar’s insides lurched.
It was David Levy.
The passenger joined the pilot, and Omar narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the figure. A large Coptic cross shone against the man’s billowing, black robes. The patriarch.
Welcome to the party, men. Then, unbidden, another thought entered his mind: Come, beloved sons, go into the garden. The words echoing in his head, he hurried to find cover, stopping next to a media truck to watch.
Palms swayed gently in the breeze, and several torches flamed against the gathering dusk. Omar studied the terrain, paying close attention
to the groves of palm trees dotting the oasis. He twisted around, counting the separate groves. Six . . . seven. Seven groves. Seven tombs. Seven devils. Well, there were more than seven devils present right now. Maybe it meant seven curses. Or seven djinns.
Was this the queen’s garden? The breeze ruffled Omar’s clothing, and he involuntarily shivered. The media crews positioned themselves with cameras and microphones. It appeared that Lucas and the man with him were about to make a speech.
“A press conference?” Omar muttered. “Now?”
The patriarch, accompanied by Levy, made his way to the sultan’s side and was given a hearty greeting. The two men sat together on rugs, front and center.
All eyes trained on Lucas as he started speaking, and Omar moved in closer. He tried to keep his breathing in check as his shoulder ached, making him feel slightly dizzy. On the outskirts of the group, he stopped, close enough to listen but far enough to keep a nonchalant eye on the patriarch.
A slight movement came from behind Omar, and he turned. Mia and Jade stood there, both of them wearing veils. It would take an astute eye to know they weren’t Bedu women.
Mia whispered, “I don’t believe it. Levy’s going to kill him in the middle of all these people.”
Omar focused on Levy. The man’s gaze was cold and hard. A chill crept along Omar’s neck. It was like he was looking evil in the face.
“We need to . . .” He turned. Mia had disappeared. He looked at Jade, but she only met his gaze with the same questions in her eyes. The bulky shape beneath her clothing told him she was armed.
At the front of the group, Lucas introduced the other man as Dr. Israel Stein.
“Let’s get straight to the information. Then we’ll take questions,” Lucas said. “The sarcophagus clearly states that the tomb belongs to a Sabaean queen.” Murmuring erupted in the crowd.
Omar moved away from Jade, scanning for Mia. If she did something rash, he’d have to be ready to cover her.
Dr. Stein was speaking now. “But that doesn’t mean she’s Bilqis, the woman we refer to as the queen of Sheba. As always, in a preliminary investigation, we have to entertain more than one explanation. A man by the name of Juris Zarins suggested that Ubar was not a city, but a region, and Shisur was one of the seven oases of this legendary Ubar.”