Staff of Judea

by Alex Archer

  The helicopter was carrying padded lockboxes in which to secure the jars of gold coins that the team had unearthed the day before. Each box would be carefully labeled, locked, loaded onto the chopper and then flown to a secure holding facility where it would eventually be examined by representatives from Israel’s Department of Antiquities.

  The idea of driving around the Israeli countryside with millions of dollars worth of gold in the back of their trucks just wasn’t smart. Even a second-grader would have known that. They just didn’t have the equipment or the manpower to protect it properly. If word got out about what they were carrying, they would become a big, fat target. The gold would be very easy to move on the black market once it had been melted down.

  The two-way radio on her belt beeped and she answered it. Grimes.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Mitchell would like a word, if you have a moment.”

  “Of course, I’ll be right there.”

  She replaced the radio and then headed across camp to where Connolly’s safari-style canvas tent had been erected the night before. She found Grimes waiting for her at the entrance and followed him inside.

  Unlike her own tent, which was a portable nylon backpacking tent designed to be light and easy to use, Connolly’s home-away-from-home had been designed for comfort. It had a wooden floor, two cots, several folding chairs and even a portable sink in one corner. Connolly was standing in front of the sink, shaving with a straight razor, when Annja entered.

  “Ah, just the person I was looking for,” he said good-naturedly, as if her appearance was a surprise and he hadn’t just asked Grimes to call her.

  “Morning to you, as well,” she replied.

  “Please, sit.” He pointed at one of the folding camp chairs with his razor.

  Connolly finished up, wiped his face with a towel and came over to sit next to her.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Cocoa, if you have it…”

  “Certainly. Grimes?”

  They sat in silence until Grimes brought their drinks and joined them, a cup of coffee of his own in hand. Connolly didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

  “Do you have any idea who or what that was last night?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Want to hazard a guess?”

  Annja shrugged. “Some of the locals, probably. My guess is they think we’re here to do a prolonged excavation and those have a tendency to close down a site, turning away tourist dollars.”

  Grimes frowned. “I can’t imagine this place getting many tourists.”

  “My point exactly,” Annja replied.

  “Do you think it could be one of those—what did Ephraim call them earlier—Grig-something-or-others?”

  “Gibborim,” she corrected almost automatically.

  Connolly had already proved he had a penchant for unusual artifacts, as the ossuary box she’d sold him demonstrated, so he would no doubt have followed the stories around the Copper Scroll and its treasure pretty closely.

  No sense beating around the bush.

  “No, I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think the Gibborim, or guardians, are anything more than an old wives’ tale.”

  “But you’ve proved in the past that sometimes there is more to an old wives’ tale than we think.”

  That was certainly true. As the “serious” host of Chasing History’s Monsters, it was her role to debunk the legends and stories that the show investigated. Sometimes, in the process, she discovered there was a kernel of truth behind the claims.

  “True. But this one seems more far-fetched than usual. The idea that a handpicked group has existed for the past two thousand years for no greater purpose than to guard some long-lost treasure seems a stretch, even for me.” She shook her head. “It’s going to take more than just an encounter with a desert dweller like the one we ran into last night to convince me that the Gibborim exist.”

  Even if Ephraim believes in them.

  The two men seemed satisfied and left it at that.

  “All right,” Connolly said, “what’s our next target?”

  “Stanza 10. Ben Baraket. It’s the site of an ancient Hebrew trading post from before the Roman occupation. It’s located deep in the southern Negev, about thirty miles south of Mizpe Ramon.”

  “Mizpe Ramon?” he asked, fighting with the unfamiliar pronunciation of the word.

  She nodded. “It’s one of the southern development towns built in the 1950s to house Jewish refugees.” She remembered all the barren space on the map she’d looked at earlier that morning, knowing she’d have to answer questions about their next site. “We can take Route 40 most of the way into Mizpe Ramon, but after that we’re going to have to go overland, through some pretty treacherous terrain. I suggest we travel single file and use the two-ways to stay in touch as we go.”

  Grimes looked to Connolly, didn’t get any objection and then nodded his head. “Agreed. We’ll use the same order of travel we used yesterday and I’ll have the team in the rear keep their eyes open for anyone traveling too closely to us. Just in case that old wives’ tale turns out to be true.”

  “Fair enough,” Annja replied with a laugh. “Fair enough.”

  * * *

  KNOWING THEY HAD a good deal of distance to travel over difficult terrain, they broke camp as soon as the helicopter left and set out across the desert. Annja was in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, constantly checking their course and direction against the notes on the iPad in her lap. Given the preciseness of the deciphered directions, even a small mistake at this juncture could send them way off track. She didn’t want to have to explain to Connolly that she’d led them miles in the wrong direction. Grimes sat beside her, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. As with the day before, there wasn’t much conversation.

  That was why Connolly’s voice startled her when he spoke up a few hours later.

  “What is that?” he asked absently, leaning forward to get a better look out the rear window.

  They had passed the small town of Mizpe Ramon a little over an hour ago and had struck out across the open desert in a western direction. There were no roads here and they were relying on Annja’s sense of direction, Grimes’s skill behind the wheel and their state-of-the-art GPS unit to keep them on course. This deep in the Negev there wasn’t much to see except rocks and sand so Annja turned to look with real curiosity.

  “What?” she asked. “Is there a problem with—”

  She never finished her sentence. She’d seen the long dark line at the edge of the horizon that had caught Connolly’s attention and she froze at the sight. Unlike her employer, she knew what she was looking at.

  Without taking her gaze off the phenomena, she picked up the two-way radio from the seat next to her and keyed the switch.

  “Rover One to Rover Five, do you copy, Benjamin?”

  The young archaeologist replied, “I copy, Annja. What’s up?”

  “Take a look behind you and tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

  Connolly was looking at her quizzically now and moved to say something, but she shushed him with an upright hand and a brief shake of her head. If she was right, they didn’t have much time….

  The radio in her hand crackled as Benjamin hit the transmit button. He shouted something in Hebrew and then, realizing that he’s spoken in his native tongue, switched to English.

  “It’s a haboob all right, Annja! Moving fast and headed right for us!”

  Annja cursed. Shoving the iPad at Connolly, who took it in bewilderment, she snatched up the topographical map from the dashboard and began scanning it frantically.

  “What the hell is a haboob?” he asked with more than a hint of exasperation.

  It was Grimes who answered him. “A sandsto
rm. A big one at that.”

  “That storm out there,” she added, “is a monster.”

  “Can’t we outrun it?” Connolly asked, sitting upright.

  Annja shook her head. “I’m guessing that storm front is three, maybe four miles wide and it’s probably moving at sixty or seventy miles per hour. These Land Cruisers are fast, sure, but there’s no way we can match those speeds, not loaded down as we are. And certainly not over this kind of terrain.”

  “So what do we do?” Grimes asked as his gaze flicked to the rearview mirror.

  A backward glance of her own confirmed her fears. The storm was gaining on them quickly. It had already gone from being a thin dark line out at the edge of the horizon to a horizontal wave of darkness moving inexorably in their direction. Even from this distance she thought she could make out the roiling eddies of sand at its forefront.

  “We hope we can find a place to hole up until the storm passes.”

  Chapter 13

  The map in her hand wasn’t as detailed as she would have liked, but it would have to do. She located where they had camped the night before, then estimated how much ground they had covered that morning, which would put them right about…here. She put her finger on the map in that spot and then scanned around it, looking for anything that might serve as shelter from the storm.

  “Turn right,” she said.

  “What?” Grimes’s attention was caught by whatever he was seeing in the rearview mirror.

  Annja didn’t hesitate, just reached over and yanked the wheel to the right. “I said turn!” she yelled.

  The sudden change in direction, never mind her shout, focused his attention again. He steadied the vehicle on its new course and gripped the wheel tighter. “Where am I going?” he asked.

  “There’s a ridgeline on the other side of those low hills,” she said, pointing to the two-story mounds of sand directly ahead of them. “Get to the other side and start looking for a place we can hole up out of the wind.”

  “Got it!”

  As Grimes bent to the task of getting them over the shifting sands, Annja looked back again. What she saw wasn’t good. The sky all around them was a sickly orange color and the storm could clearly be seen now, a veritable wall of dirt and sand hundreds of feet high churning toward them. She’d read somewhere once that haboobs could reach heights of three thousand feet and could stretch several miles across. From what she was seeing now, she guessed this one was even bigger, a great-granddaddy of a storm come to claim them.

  They had to find shelter.

  She picked up the two-way and spoke into it again. “Rover One to all units. There’s no way we can outrun this storm, so stick close while we try to find a place to hole up and wait it out.”

  A chorus of “Rogers” came back to her. Satisfied, she put the radio down and turned her attention to the landscape outside the vehicle.

  Grimes steered carefully down off the hill, winding his way between various rock formations and trying to keep the vehicle from tipping as the tires slid in the loose soil. Once on flat ground he headed for the wadi, or valley, between the two ridgelines ahead of them. The wind had picked up considerably in just the past few minutes, rocking the vehicle on its axles. The air was full of blowing dust and sand, limiting visibility and making it difficult for any of them to see what lay ahead. Annja had her face pressed to the glass on the passenger’s side, scanning the cliff face beside them for anything that might offer safety. Connolly did the same on the other side of the vehicle.

  “There!” she cried, pointing ahead of them on her side of the wadi.

  Connolly slid over to her side of the vehicle, peering out the passenger window. “What is it?” he asked, trying to see through the rapidly growing murkiness.

  Annja pointed to a dark shadow on the cliff face, some dozen yards away from them. “There’s a cave. Maybe we can get the trucks inside it and out of the wind entirely.”

  Connolly slapped Grimes on the shoulder. “You heard the woman. Go, go!”

  Grimes was already steering in that direction and moments later they slammed to a stop just outside their destination. Annja pulled the neck of her T-shirt up over her nose and mouth and then pushed her door open.

  The wind was already much stronger than she expected, nearly tearing the door from her grasp. It was only with considerable effort that she managed to slam it shut again behind her. Once she had, she turned and forced her way the last few yards against the storm to the cave mouth, ducking low to enter it.

  She saw immediately that it was more of a protected hollow than an actual cave. It was longer than it was deep and the ceiling overhead was so low that she had to walk in a stoop. On the plus side, however, the overhang out front hung nearly all the way down to her waist, which would help to keep the storm out. And the air inside seemed musty but breathable.

  It would have to do.

  Annja turned and made her way back to the Land Cruiser, fighting against the wind the entire way. As she drew closer Grimes lowered the window a crack so they could hear her, but even then she had to shout to be heard over the howl of the storm.

  “Pull forward about twenty feet and park as close to the face of the ridge as you can,” she told him. “The Cruisers will keep out most of the dust and wind. I’ll direct the others in behind you.”

  Grimes nodded, rolled up the window and then did as she suggested. Annja turned and gestured for the next vehicle, repeating her instructions to the driver when he reached her. After that the other drivers got the hint; all Annja had to do was wave them forward and they followed suit, pulling in behind the others. Their passengers quickly disembarked, pulling their packs into the narrow shelter with them just in case their stay ended up being a protracted one.

  Annja was about to join them when she realized they had a problem.

  One of the Cruisers was missing.

  She did a quick count, just to be sure, but came up short the second time, as well.

  If they got stuck in this storm…

  Annja took a few steps back in the direction the caravan had come from and peered through the blowing sands, looking for the missing vehicle. She finally saw it halfway down the last dune. It was skewed at an angle and, even as she watched, the Cruiser slid a few feet farther sideways until it hung there, perpendicular to the slope of the hill.

  Annja headed toward them, not yet certain what she was going to do to help once she got there but knowing she had to do something. She couldn’t just leave them there at the mercy of the storm.

  She had to hunch forward against the force of the storm as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other and to keep herself moving in the general direction of the stuck vehicle. Twice she was knocked over and had to fight her way back to her feet. It didn’t take a genius to know that getting back to the shelter was going to be twice as difficult.

  She wasn’t the only one having difficulty, though. She was just getting back to her feet after being knocked to the ground for the second time when the worst of her fears came to pass. A gust of wind swept down the hill and struck the Cruiser broadside. All that surface area acted like a huge sail and the force of the wind rocked the vehicle up on one set of wheels.

  Annja watched in horror as it hung there for a moment and then tipped the rest of the way over, rolling over and over again as it plunged down the slope to come to a crashing halt against the hard surface of the wadi floor.

  Chapter 14

  The sound of crashing glass and crumpled steel could barely be heard over the wind as it whipped at Annja, trying its best to turn her aside. She stared through the storm at the overturned vehicle. They could be seriously hurt in there. She began to run.

  The storm was upon them in earnest now and her run quickly turned to a jog and then to a strained walk. The sand and grit stung her face and sh
e was having difficulty breathing even through her T-shirt. Still, she fought her way forward.

  The Cruiser had come to rest with the driver’s side down against the earth and the wheels sticking out sideways like the legs of some dead insect. The wind was so strong, the dust so thick in the air, she walked right into one of the wheels.

  Keeping one hand against the side of the truck, she traced her way along the vehicle until she reached the rear door. She was fumbling for the handle when the door opened beneath her touch and a pair of hands pulled her inside, out of the wind.

  When her eyes had adjusted to the difference in light inside the vehicle, Annja found Mike and Susan crouched in the cargo space with her, relief on their faces.

  “I knew you’d come!” Susan exclaimed. Then her expression turned grave. “Benjamin’s hurt—I’m not sure how bad.”

  Annja looked over her shoulder to where Benjamin was stretched out flat on what was now the floor of the vehicle, a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head. He gave her a weak wave and a half smile, which was a good sign. At least he was awake.

  “Camera case wasn’t strapped down,” Mike said in a low voice. “When we rolled, it hit him. He bled a lot, but I don’t think the wound is deep.”

  “All right,” Annja said, “I’ve come to get you out of here before the sand buries us. But if we don’t hurry, we’re not going to make it to the others.”

  Susan immediately began to gather her things, but Mike hesitated. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Why would we want to go out in that?” He pointed out the window at the now pitch-dark storm on the other side of the glass. “It’s safe enough here. Why don’t we just wait until the storm blows over? Surely we could dig our way out if we get buried.”

  Annja was already shaking her head. “You said it yourself—you don’t know how badly injured Benjamin is. One of the security team members is also a medic.”

  Mike grumbled, but finally agreed. Annja was going to need his size and strength to get Benjamin through the storm.