‘How much fuel do we have, Tommy?’ Andrea asked, turning towards the driver.
Eichberg stroked his moustache thoughtfully. Andrea was amused by how slowly he spoke, and the way he began every other sentence with a long ‘W-e-l-l-l-l-l-l’.
‘The two trucks behind us are carrying the supplies. Russian Kamaz, military. Hard as nails. The Russians tried them out in Afghanistan. Well… after that we have the tankers. The one with water is carrying 10,500 gallons. The one with the gasoline is a little smaller and has a little over 9,000 gallons.’
‘That’s a lot of fuel.’
‘Well, we’re going to be out here for weeks, and we need electricity.’
‘We can always fall back on the ship. You know… to send more supplies.’
‘Well, that’s not going to happen. Orders are that once we get to the camp, we’re incommunicado. No contact with the outside world, period.’
‘What if there’s an emergency?’ Andrea said nervously.
‘We’re pretty self-sufficient. We could survive for months on what we’ve brought, but the planning has taken every aspect into consideration. I know, because as official driver and mechanic, I was in charge of supervising the loading of all the vehicles. Dr Harel has a veritable hospital back there. And, well, if there’s anything more than a sprained ankle, we’re only forty-five miles away from the nearest town, Al Mudawwara.’
‘That’s a relief. How many people live there? Twelve?’
‘Did they teach you that attitude in your journalism classes?’ Stowe cut in from the back seat.
‘Yes, it’s called Sarcasm 101.’
‘I bet it was your best subject.’
Smart arse. I hope you suffer a stroke while you’re digging. Then let’s see what you think about getting sick in the middle of the Jordanian desert, thought Andrea, who had never got high marks in anything at school. Insulted, she maintained a dignified silence for a short while.
‘Welcome to Southern Jordan, my friends,’ Tommy said happily. ‘Home of the simoon. Population: zero.’
‘What’s a simoon, Tommy?’ Andrea said.
‘A giant sand storm. You have to see one to believe it. Right, we’re almost there.’
The H3 slowed down and the trucks began to line up at the side of the road.
‘I think this is the turn-off,’ Tommy said, pointing to the GPS on the dashboard. We only have about two miles to go, but it’ll take us a while to cover the distance. These dunes are going to be tough on the trucks.’
When the dust began to settle, Andrea spied an enormous dune of rose-coloured sand. Behind it was Claw Canyon, the place, according to Forrester, where the Ark of the Covenant had lain hidden for over two thousand years. Small whirlwinds chased each other up the side of the dune, beckoning Andrea to join them.
‘Do you think I could walk the rest of the way? I’d like to take a few photos of the expedition as it arrives. I’ll get there before the trucks do, by the look of it.’
Tommy regarded her with concern. ‘Well, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Climbing that hill isn’t going to be easy. It’s cool inside the truck. Out there it’s 104 degrees.’
‘I’ll be careful. Anyway, we’ll stay in visual contact all the time. Nothing will happen to me.’
‘I don’t think you should do it, either, Ms Otero,’ said David Pappas.
‘Come on, Eichberg. Let her go. She’s a big girl,’ Stowe said, more for the fun of going against Pappas than to back up Andrea.
‘I’ll have to consult Mr Russell.’
‘Then go ahead.’
Against his better judgement Tommy grabbed the walkie-talkie.
Twenty minutes later Andrea was regretting her decision. Before beginning the climb to the top of the dune, she first had to descend some eighty feet from the road, and then stagger slowly up another 2,500 feet, the last fifty of which were at an incline of 25 degrees. The top of the dune seemed deceptively close; the sand, deceptively smooth.
Andrea had taken with her a backpack containing a large bottle of water. Before she had reached the top of the dune she had drunk every drop. She had a headache, even though she was wearing a hat, and her nose and throat hurt. She was wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, shorts and boots and despite the fact she had put on a high factor sunscreen before getting out of the Hummer, the skin on her arms was starting to sting.
Less than a half an hour and I’m ready for the burns unit. Let’s hope nothing goes wrong with the trucks or we’ll have to walk back, she thought.
That didn’t seem likely. Tommy personally drove each truck to the top of the dune, a task that required experience to avoid the risk of overturning the vehicle. First he took care of the two Kamaz supply trucks, leaving them parked on the hill just below the steepest part of the climb. Then he dealt with the two water trucks while the rest of his team watched from the shade of the H3s.
Meanwhile Andrea was observing the whole operation through her telephoto lens. Each time Tommy got out of a vehicle, he waved to the reporter at the top of the dune and Andrea returned the gesture. Tommy then took the H3s to the edge of the final ascent since he was going to use them to tow the heavier vehicles, which, despite their large wheels, did not have enough traction for such a steep sandy climb.
Andrea took a few photos of the first of the trucks as it made its way up to the summit. One of Dekker’s soldiers was now driving the all-terrain vehicle, which was connected to the Kamaz via a cable. She observed the enormous effort required to get the truck to the top of the dune but after it rolled past her, Andrea lost interest in the procedure. Instead, she turned her attention to Claw Canyon.
At first the huge rocky gorge looked no different to any other in the desert. Andrea could see two walls about 150 feet apart that stretched out into the distance then split off. On the way there, Eichberg had shown her an aerial photograph of their destination. The canyon looked like the triple talon of a giant hawk.
Both walls were 100 to 130 feet high. Andrea aimed her telephoto lens at the top of the rocky wall, searching for a higher vantage point she could use to shoot from.
That’s when she saw him.
It was only for a second. A man dressed in khaki, watching her.
Surprised, she looked up from the lens but the spot was too far away. She aimed the camera at the rim of the canyon once more.
Nothing.
Switching her position, she scanned the wall again, but it was useless. Whoever had seen her had quickly hidden himself, which was not a good sign. She tried to work out what to do.
The most intelligent thing would be to wait and discuss it with Fowler and Harel…
She went and stood in the shade of the first truck, which was shortly joined by the second. An hour later the whole expedition had arrived at the top of the dune and was ready to enter Claw Canyon.
27
MP3 File Recovered by the Jordanian Desert Police from Andrea Otero’s Digital Recorder after the Moses Expedition Disaster
Title, all caps. The Ark Recovered. No, wait, delete that. Title… Treasure in the Desert. No, that’s no good. I have to refer to the Ark in the title – that will sell papers. All right, let’s leave the title until I’ve finished writing the article. Lead sentence: To mention its name is to invoke one of the most prevalent myths of all humanity. The history of Western civilisation began with it, and today it is the object most coveted by archaeologists the world over. We are accompanying the Moses Expedition on its secret journey across the southern Jordanian desert into Claw Canyon, the place where almost two thousand years ago a group of faithful hid the Ark during the destruction of the second Temple of Solomon...
This is all too dry. I’d better write it out first. Let’s start with the Forrester interview… Fuck, that old guy gives me the creeps with his wheezing voice. They say it’s because of his illness. Note: Look up on the Internet how to spell pneumoconiosis.
QUESTION: Professor Forrester, the Ark of the Covenant has been firing the hum
an imagination from time immemorial. To what do you attribute this interest?
ANSWER: Look, if you want me to give you an introduction, you don’t need to go round in circles and tell me what I already know. Just say what you want and I’ll talk.
Q: Do you give a lot of interviews?
A: Dozens. So you’re not going to ask me anything original, anything I haven’t already heard or answered before. If we had an Internet connection on the dig, I’d tell you to look some of them up and copy the answers.
Q: What’s the problem? Are you worried about repeating yourself?
A: I’m worried about wasting time. I’m seventy-seven years old. I’ve spent forty-three of those years searching for the Ark. It’s now or never.
Q: Well, I’m sure you’ve never answered like that before.
A: What is this? An originality contest?
Q: Professor, please. You’re an intelligent and passionate man. Why don’t you try to reach out to the public and transmit some of your passion to them?
A: (a brief pause) You want a master of ceremonies? I’ll do what I can.
Q: Thank you. The Ark…?
A: The most powerful object in history. This is no mere coincidence, especially considering it was the beginning of Western Civilisation.
Q: Wouldn’t historians say that civilisation began in Ancient Greece?
A: Nonsense. Human beings spent thousands of years worshipping sooty stains in dark caves. Stains they called gods. Time went by and the stains changed in size, shape and colour, but they continued to be stains. We didn’t know about the existence of a single deity until it was revealed to Abraham only four thousand years ago. What do you know about Abraham, young lady?
Q: He’s the father of the Israelites.
A: Correct. And of the Arabs. Two apples that fell from the same tree, right next to one another. And straight away, the two little apples learned to hate each other.
Q: What has this to do with the Ark?
A: Five hundred years after God revealed himself to Abraham, the Almighty became sick and tired of the fact that people kept turning their backs on Him. When Moses led the Jews out of Egypt, God once again revealed Himself to His people. Only one hundred and forty-five miles from this spot. And it was there that they signed a contract. On the one hand, humanity agrees to comply with ten simple clauses.
Q: The Ten Commandments.
A: On the other, God agrees to give man eternal life. It is the single most important moment in history – the moment at which life acquired its significance. Three thousand five hundred years later, every human being carries that contract somewhere in his consciousness. Some call it natural law, others dispute its existence or meaning and they’ll kill and die to defend their interpretation. But the moment Moses received the Tablets of the Law from the hands of God: that is when our civilisation began.
Q: And then Moses puts the tablets in the Ark of the Covenant.
A: Together with other objects. The Ark is the safe that holds the contract with God.
Q: Some say that the Ark has supernatural powers.
A: Nonsense. I’ll explain that to everyone tomorrow when we begin work.
Q: So you don’t believe in the supernatural nature of the Ark?
A: With all my heart. My mother read to me from the Bible even before I was born. My life has been dedicated to the Word of God, but that does not mean I’m not prepared to disprove any myths or superstitions.
Q: Speaking of superstition, for many years your research has caused controversy in academic circles that are critical of using ancient texts to discover treasure. There have been insults hurled on both sides.
A: Academics… they couldn’t find their own ass with two hands and a flashlight. Would Schliemann have found the treasures of Troy without Homer’s Iliad? Would Carter have found Tutankhamun’s tomb without the obscure Ut papyrus? Both were heavily criticised in their day for using the same techniques I now use. Nobody remembers their critics, but Carter and Schliemann are immortal. I intend to live forever.
[a severe bout of coughing]
Q: Your illness?
A: You can’t spend this many years in damp tunnels, breathing dirt, without paying the price. I have chronic pneumoconiosis. I’m never too far from an oxygen tank. Go on, please.
Q: Where were we? Oh, yes. Have you always been convinced of the historical existence of the Ark of the Covenant, or does your belief date back to the time when you began translating the Copper Scroll?
A: I was raised a Christian, but converted to Judaism when I was relatively young. By the 1960s, I could read ancient Hebrew as well as English. When I began to study the Copper Scroll of Qumran I didn’t discover that the Ark was real – I already knew that. With over two hundred references to it in the Bible, it is the most frequently described object in the scriptures. What I realised when I held the Second Scroll in my hands was that I would be the one who would finally rediscover the Ark.
Q: I see. How exactly did the second scroll help you to decipher the Qumran Copper Scroll?
A: Well, there’s been a lot of confusion over the consonants like he, het, mem, kaf, wav, zayin, and yod…
Q: In layman’s terms, Professor.
A: Some of the consonants weren’t too clear, which made deciphering the text difficult. And the strangest thing was that a series of Greek letters had been inserted throughout the scroll. Once we had the key to understanding the text, we realised that these letters were the titles of sections, which changed the order and therefore the context. That was the most exciting period of my professional career.
Q: It must have been frustrating to dedicate forty-three years of your life to the translation of the Copper Scroll, and then have the whole matter resolved in the space of three months after the Second Scroll turned up.
A: Absolutely not. The Dead Sea Scrolls, including the Copper Scroll, were brought to light by accident when a shepherd threw a rock inside a cave in Palestine and heard something break. That’s how the first of the manuscripts was found. That’s not archaeology: that’s luck. But without all these decades of in-depth study, we would never have come to Mr Kayn…
Q: Mr Kayn? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me that the Copper Scroll mentions a billionaire!
A: I can’t talk any more about that. I’ve already said too much.
28
THE EXCAVATION
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN
Wednesday, 12 July 2006. 7:33 p.m.
The next hours were a frenetic coming and going. Professor Forrester had decided to establish the camp at the entrance to the canyon. The site would be protected from the wind by the two walls of rock that first narrowed then widened out and finally joined once again 800 feet beyond, in what Forrester called the index finger. Two branches of the canyon to the east and south-east made up the middle and ring fingers of the claw.
The group would live in special tents designed by an Israeli company to withstand the desert heat, and it took a good part of the afternoon to erect them. The work of unloading the trucks fell to Robert Frick and Tommy Eichberg, who used the hydraulic winches on the Kamaz trucks to unload the large numbered metal boxes containing the equipment for the expedition.
‘Four thousand five hundred pounds of food, two hundred and fifty pounds of medicine, four thousand pounds of archaeological equipment and electrical gear, two thousand pounds of steel rails, a drill and a mini-excavator. What do you think of that?’
Andrea was amazed and made a mental note for her article as she checked off the items on the list Tommy had given her. Because of her limited experience in pitching tents, she had volunteered to help with the unloading and Eichberg had put her in charge of directing where each box should go. She had done so not out of a desire to help, but because she supposed that the sooner she was finished the sooner she would be able to talk to Fowler and Harel alone. The doctor was busy helping to set up the tent for the infirmary.
‘There goes number thirty-four, Tommy,�
� yelled Frick from the back of the second truck. The chain on the winch was attached to two metal hooks on either side of the box; it made a loud clanking sound as it lowered its cargo towards the sandy soil.
‘Be careful, this one weighs a ton.’
The young reporter looked anxiously at the list, fearing she had missed something.
‘This list is wrong, Tommy. It only has thirty-three boxes.’
‘Don’t worry. This particular box is special… and here come the people in charge of it,’ Eichberg said, unhooking the chains.
Andrea looked up from her list to see Marla Jackson and Tewi Waaka, two of Dekker’s soldiers. They both knelt next to the box and released the locks. The top came off with a slight hiss, as if it had been vacuum-sealed. Andrea glanced discreetly at its contents. The two mercenaries didn’t appear to mind.
It’s almost as if they were expecting me to look.
The contents of the case couldn’t have been more mundane: packets of rice, coffee and beans, arranged in rows of twenty. Andrea didn’t understand; especially when Marla Jackson grabbed a packet with each hand and suddenly tossed them at Andrea’s chest, the muscles of her arms rippling under her black skin.
‘There you go, Snow White.’
Andrea had to drop the clipboard in order to catch the packages. Waaka fought back a snigger while Jackson, ignoring the surprised reporter, stuck her hand into the space left and pulled hard. The layer of packages shifted to reveal a much less prosaic cargo.
Contract with God aka The Moses Expedition Page 12