by Alex Archer
Connolly was concerned about the Creed woman, which meant that Grimes had to be, as well. What bothered the boss the most was the way in which Creed had been rescued by those horsemen last night just as Grimes had effectively run her to ground. The speed at which they had appeared and the way they had intentionally blocked the security teams’ fire to protect her suggested she’d been working with the intruders all along.
Creed had escaped and had taken the iPad containing a good portion of their information about the staff with her. Connolly wanted her tracked down and dealt with as swiftly as possible. The project Grimes had assigned to Douglas was intended to do just that.
He handed the tracker to Connolly. “Thought I’d let you do the honors.”
Connolly turned the device over a few times in his hands. “So how does this work again?”
What difference does it make? Grimes wanted to say. It will work and that’s all that matters. But Connolly was the boss and Grimes had survived this long by doing what the boss wanted.
“There’s a GPS transmitter in your tablet, just like the GPS transmitters in a cell phone. Douglas hacked into the cell network to get your individual GPS signal and then modified the tracking software in the handheld so that it would look for your tablet rather than the beacon it had originally been designed to hunt down. He also extended the reach of the device by allowing it to use our satellite network. When you flick the switch, the tracker should show us the current GPS position of your iPad. All we have to do from there is follow it.”
Connolly looked up and met his gaze. “And where we find my tablet, you expect to find Annja.”
“I do.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
As Grimes looked on, Connolly flicked the switch.
For a moment, nothing happened. The screen stayed blank. Connolly opened his mouth to say something but Grimes held up a hand. “It’s just calibrating. Give it a moment.”
As soon as the words left his mouth the tracker beeped once and a red dot appeared at the bottom right of the screen. Next to that dot were coordinates: N30°55′30″, E34°58′52″.
“Douglas?”
The former commando took note of the numbers and then punched them into his computer. A moment later a name popped up on the screen.
Makhtesh Gadol.
Chapter 32
If Roux hadn’t been watching the hawk, they wouldn’t have found the cave entrance as quickly as they did.
After Henshaw had taken off, they stuck close to the east wall of the canyon, following it for about a kilometer to where a series of caves became visible in the walls above them. Annja guessed there had to be at least two hundred of them, if not more. They were as common as a warren of rabbits left to breed indiscriminately for years.
According to Ephraim’s notes, the entrance to the fortress was hidden in one of those caves. To find the right one, they were to look for the symbol of the “guide in the night,” a reference, Ephraim believed, to the ancient Jewish belief that God led Moses and the Israelites across the desert during their years of exile with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
But what did a stone pillar of fire look like, really? There had to be just as many strange rock formations in the area as there were caves. Would they even know it when they saw it? And would it not have eroded after all this time?
Only one way to find out.
They began the slow, painstaking search. They started with the larger cave mouths closest to the ground, checking each one for the expected symbol before using some of the chalk Annja had brought along to mark off those that had been investigated from the dozens of others around them. With so little information to go on, they were careful to explore as many possible candidates as they could, a decision that was going to add to the time it would take to complete the task but would also keep them from overlooking the right cave because they didn’t exactly know what they were looking for.
They’d been at it for only a half hour when the hawk caught Roux’s attention. He watched it circling high above them for a few minutes while Annja checked out the next hole in the canyon wall. At first he’d taken it for some kind of drone, it circled so perfectly above their position. He’d drawn a handgun out of his pack and gotten ready to try to shoot it down, when the bird folded back its wings and went into a steep dive.
Roux followed it down as it plunged toward the earth, no doubt about to make some other desert creature’s life a good degree shorter, and he watched as it disappeared behind a vertical pillar of rock that seemed to twist and move in the bright light of the afternoon sun.
The pillar of fire!
The hawk burst from cover, a mouse in its talons, and Roux saluted it as it flew away. He kept his gaze on the pillar from behind which the hawk had emerged and called out to Annja.
“I think I’ve found it.”
She was just emerging from a cave several yards to his left and quickly joined him. He pointed out the formation to her and the two of them made their way over.
Up close, the optical illusion that made the stone pillar look like it was flickering back and forth like the flames of a fire disappeared, leaving them staring at nothing more than a tall hunk of freestanding rock. Behind it, half-hidden in the shadow cast by the ten-foot column, was a narrow opening in the rock.
As cave mouths went it wasn’t much. Just a small opening near the floor of the canyon, so low that Annja had to get down on her knees and bend to look inside. The sunlight barely reached inside the hole, so Annja dug her headlamp out of her pack and put it on. With the help of its light she could see that the cave opened up considerably once you got past the first several feet. A bend in the tunnel kept her from seeing too far inside, but it seemed clear that beyond the cave mouth was a rather substantial tunnel leading deeper under the cliff wall.
Annja felt a stab of excitement.
“I’m going to check it out,” she told Roux. Before her companion could reply she had stripped off her pack and, pushing it ahead of her, climbed inside the cave mouth flat on her stomach.
There wasn’t a lot of wiggle room. The sides of the tunnel were very close; she barely had enough space to wiggle her hips back and forth to get some momentum going as she pulled herself forward with her hands. For just a second she thought about the several million tons of rock hanging suspended just above her head, waiting to come crashing down and bury her for all eternity. Then she banished the thought. If it was going to come down there wasn’t anything she could do about it, anyway.
After several minutes of effort she slid out of the entrance tunnel and into a small chamber. By the light of her headlamp she could see that it was roughly circular, with another tunnel mouth opening directly across from the one she’d just entered through. This other opening was much larger, however. Neither she nor Roux would have any difficulty walking upright.
Her light fell on the space directly above the tunnel mouth and she froze, her eyes widening at the sight. Carved into the lintel of the tunnel mouth was an intricately stylized pillar of flames and several words written in what could only be Hebrew. She couldn’t read them, but that was okay. She already knew what they said.
Welcome, Annja.
Or, at least, that’s what they said to her.
“Anything?” Roux called from outside.
Oh, nothing much, just the hidden entrance to King Herod’s long-lost refuge.
She saved Roux the sarcasm. “Yes, this is it!” she called back. “Watch yourself. It’s a tight squeeze.”
A few minutes and a lot of grumbling and cursing later, Roux stood by her side. He glanced around, saw the writing above the tunnel mouth and studied it for a moment. “With a pillar of fire, He led them to the Promised Land.”
Annja looked at him, surprised. “I didn’t know you could read Hebrew.�
�
“You never asked,” Roux replied smugly, before heading deeper into the mountain.
They traveled forward for another fifteen minutes without finding anything of interest. The tunnel meandered through several twists and turns, so much so that it became obvious the workmen had relied on an existing passage through the rock rather than carving their own straighter course. Aside from the carving at the entrance, the only clues that this was a man-made passage were the sconces set into the walls every twenty-five feet.
At last they emerged into an open chamber that was a good fifty feet across and at least two stories high. A wide beam of sunlight blazed down from the ceiling, the result of a perfectly placed shaft bored through to the surface that would capture the light at a specific time each day, Annja surmised. She turned to follow the sunbeam and gasped when she saw what it revealed.
Just as with the ruins at Petra in Jordan, the entire rock wall at the far end of the chamber had been sculpted so it looked like the front of a temple building, complete with obviously false windows and balconies on the second floor and three very real doorways directly ahead on the first. Two large statues of a man Annja took to be King Herod stood on either side of the trio of doors, staring across the chamber at them with stern expressions. In a subtle hint of what lay inside, each statue held a shepherd’s crook in their hands.
Annja and Roux grinned at each other, their thoughts on the prize before them.
Chapter 33
They spotted the other chopper from the air and made a couple of passes over the site to be on the safe side. Even from a distance Grimes recognized the make and model. The Bell 427 was a fairly common utility bird. The twin engines and four-blade rotor system gave it both speed and versatility in the air, never mind a range of over seven hundred kilometers. This one was painted black and was completely bare of any kind of insignia or marking, including tail numbers. It looked abandoned, so Grimes ordered his man to set their own bird down a few dozen yards away. As soon as they were on the ground, Grimes, Beck and Daniels were advancing on the other helicopter, weapons in hand.
With the other two men covering him, Grimes threw open the door and discovered that his initial impression had been right—the cockpit was empty. Dust hadn’t had time to build up on the windshield and the frame, however.
Grimes had little doubt the chopper belonged to Annja and whoever she had managed to enlist to help her. His opinion was confirmed when an order for Daniels and Beck to search the vehicle turned up Connolly’s iPad, complete with its leather case. The bullet hole through the center of it was unfortunate. Grimes knew Mitchell was not going to be happy about that.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he suddenly felt like he was being watched. He spun around, his weapon up, and surveyed the boulder field surrounding their landing area, looking for a telltale hint of movement or the flash of sunlight on the glass of a spotting scope or pair of binoculars. Nothing.
Still, the feeling persisted.
He turned to face his own chopper and held up two fingers, then pointed to the area around them. Two more of his men—he couldn’t be certain who it was at this distance and frankly he didn’t care as long as the job got done—climbed down from the chopper and headed in the direction he’d pointed, searching for whoever might be out there.
Better safe than sorry, he thought.
Grimes waited impatiently until the men—Gardner and Johnson, as it turned out—returned fifteen minutes later.
“Anything?” he asked.
It was Gardner who answered him. “Looks like two people exited the aircraft, and then wandered up here before descending into the canyon. I’m guessing a man and a woman, as one set of tracks is deeper than the other. Might even be a third individual, but I’m less certain of that. Could just be a weak sign from one of the first two.”
“All right. Keep your eyes open. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Grimes had long ago learned to trust his instincts and right now those instincts were telling him they weren’t alone. Still, Gardner had said there might be one unconfirmed individual, not fifty. How much damage could one guy do?
If there was somebody out there, they’d neutralize him when the time came.
Grimes returned to the chopper and brought Connolly up to speed. As expected, the boss wasn’t happy about the tablet, but when Grimes let him know that they seemed to be close on the heels of Annja and whoever was assisting her, Connolly forgot about it in favor of focusing on the real issue—beating Creed to the staff.
“What are we doing screwing around up here for, anyway?” he asked Grimes, the irritation plain on his face. “Creed’s down there somewhere.” He pointed at the lip of the canyon. “That’s where we should be, as well. Get in and let’s get down there where we belong. We’re not going to find the staff up here.”
The canyon was wide enough that they could take off and land in the middle of it, saving them the effort of a descent, but Grimes was leery about doing so.
“It’s my guess that Annja arrived here ahead of us and is no doubt hunting for the entrance to the fortress even as we speak. We only made one pass over the canyon. When we came back to take a look at the chopper, we did so at an oblique angle and that should have dampened the sound considerably. I doubt anyone knows we’re here.”
He glanced over, saw Connolly was getting impatient and wrapped it up. “Right now we have a tactical advantage that we’d be foolish to waste, and landing in the center of the canyon would do just that.”
“Fine,” Connolly replied, his irritation quickly growing to anger. “Find us a way down and let’s stop wasting time.”
Grimes looked at the professor. “I’m sure our guest would be happy to help with that, right, Professor? And before you answer, let me remind you that the continued health and welfare of your students depends on how useful you are to us.”
The archaeologist stared at him for a moment. “There’s a trail to the canyon floor from the south escarpment. Once we’re at the bottom we need to look for the rock formation mentioned in the scroll.”
Grimes smiled. “Well done, Professor, well done.”
While the men gathered the gear they were going to need for what lay ahead, Grimes instructed the pilot to take the helicopter a safe distance away and to wait for Grimes’s radio call for extraction. Just because his men hadn’t found anyone watching them from the surrounding scrub didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there. Grimes had no intention of leaving their transport home out here like a sitting duck.
Yellin led them to a narrow defile that bisected the south end of the canyon, revealing a trail that led downward. Hamilton and Beck took point, their weapons at the ready. After them came Professor Yellin, Grimes and then Connolly. Bringing up the rear were Daniels, Johnson, Douglas and Gardner.
The trail was narrow and steep, with plenty of loose stone underfoot to trip the unwary. Because of the condition of the trail, it took Grimes a while to notice it was man-made. Every now and then he could see where ancient steps had been cut into the rockface in particularly difficult sections to help ease downward passage. The work was cleverly done. He wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t known the fortress was nearby and been looking for some evidence of that.
Once they reached the canyon floor, Grimes gave the group five minutes to rest and grab some water before they set out again. According to the professor, they were looking for a rock formation that looked like a pillar of fire. Once they found that, they would use it to locate the cave mouth that marked the entrance to the fortress.
It sounded like a load of rubbish. Ten years ago he would have laughed outright at the idea of hunting for a column of stone carved to look like a giant flame, but time and experience had changed his viewpoint. He’d accompanied Connolly on enough of these crazy expeditions to know not to judge “crazy” by fac
e value.
It was that understanding that started him thinking about himself, rather than his employer, for a change as they made their way across the dusty canyon floor. He’d supported Connolly for years because the man’s agendas often coincided with Grimes’s own. There was a lot to be said for accomplishing your own goals by using someone else’s money. But if even half of what was said about the power of the staff was true, it would be foolhardy to allow it to fall into someone else’s hands. Far better to use it for his own ends.
It would be easy. The men were loyal to him rather than Connolly. He’d handpicked each and every one of them. If he gave the order, they’d turn on Connolly in a heartbeat. Professor Yellin was cooperating only because he was being forced to. That wouldn’t change if Grimes seized control. Out here in the desert, there was no way for Connolly to get help, either. It would all be a fait accompli by the time they got back to civilization.
The more Grimes thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He decided to bide his time, wait for the right moment and then make his move.
Locating the stone formation they were searching for, the one that looked like a pillar of fire, took them almost three hours. During their first search of the cliff face they went right past it without noticing. It was only when the professor decided they’d gone too far and turned them around for a pass in the opposite direction that they saw it. The late-afternoon sun set the rocks around them blazing and even Grimes had to admit the column did look like an oversize flame.
The cave didn’t look like much—a child-size hole at the base of the cliff wall—but the recent boot prints in the loose earth just outside it told them beyond a doubt they were on the right track. Grimes held the others back while Gardner had a look and confirmed his earlier reading—two people, most likely a male and a female traveling together.