McNutt swore he could hear them snarling like wolverines. They were ravenous, bloodthirsty creatures, driven by the thrill of the hunt.
He bolted for the final tunnel, hoping to use their aggression against them.
They don’t know about the sinkhole.
They won’t be expecting it.
* * *
Cobb heard his name as McNutt sprinted past him in the flooded cistern, but he wasn’t able to respond. He was far too busy holding his breath.
The tip of his gun emerged from the black water like a periscope, waiting for the enemy to cross his path – literally cross his path because he was hiding next to the only bridge that connected the entrance to the cistern and the exit on the far wall.
Cobb’s lungs began to burn, but he remained hidden.
His trigger finger quivered in anticipation.
A moment later, the assassins burst into the chamber. They spotted McNutt up ahead and continued their chase, realizing that he had only one avenue of escape. They were so intent on catching him that they failed to consider the possibility of an ambush.
The mistake cost them their lives.
Cobb rose from the depths like a leviathan. With fire in his lungs and ice in his veins, he calmly zeroed in on his targets.
Three shots boomed in the cistern.
Three splashes soon followed.
Each marked a watery grave.
28
Now it was Sarah’s turn to stare at the wall in disbelief. If Jasmine’s interpretation was correct, they knew how, when, and why Alexander’s tomb had left the city.
Someone had smuggled it out without anyone knowing.
Sarah then studied the multitude of supports that kept the tunnel’s roof from caving in. The level of reinforcement made a lot more sense now that she understood the true purpose of the tunnel. It was built to transport the world’s most precious cargo.
Jasmine continued her explanation. ‘I’m not trying to make light of the situation or overlook the number of lives that were lost, but the smugglers couldn’t have hoped for a better tragedy. A tsunami was the perfect cover.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘First,’ she said, ‘the ground started to rumble as the aftershocks reached the Egyptian coast. It didn’t have the impact of a full-blown earthquake, but the tremors would have been enough to get everyone’s attention.’
Sarah smiled, knowing what was to come: another one of Jasmine’s history lessons. But unlike most of her previous tales, Sarah was actually looking forward to it.
Jasmine did not disappoint. ‘You have to understand the setting. The religious views of the Roman Empire were in disarray. Emperor Constantine had pushed toward Christianity, but there were still a great many people who resisted the conversion. Chief among them was Emperor Julian, one of Constantine’s successors. In fact, in the era preceding the tsunami, Julian made every effort to renew the polytheistic belief system. He quickly replaced the so-called corrupt administration that Constantine had left behind and vowed to return the empire to the glory it once knew. After Julian’s death, his successors once again stressed Christian ideals, but there were many in the general public who were firmly rooted in the old beliefs.’
Sarah understood her point. ‘Those who believed in the pantheon of Roman gods would have seen the earthquake as a sign of divine intervention. They would have believed that the gods were angered by the adoption of Christianity, and the earthquake was proof of the gods’ displeasure. Maybe even a warning of things to come.’
‘Exactly,’ Jasmine replied. ‘And after the gods grabbed their attention by shaking the earth, they proved their glorious power by drawing back the waters of the sea. It’s said that creatures and ships alike were stranded in the muck as the water receded all along the coast. Then as thousands gathered to marvel at the sight, the gods buried them all with a surge of water large enough to flood the desert.’
‘Like Moses and the Red Sea,’ Sarah offered.
‘In the wake of the tragedy, no one really cared about Alexander’s tomb. There were more important things to worry about, like fresh water and food. Furthermore, the disappearance of the body could be attributed to the flood. No one – not even the emperor himself – could challenge the assertion that the tomb was buried under rubble somewhere in the city or swept out to sea entirely. Besides, those in power had to worry about reconstructing the city and tempering the religious turmoil. They might eventually get around to locating Alexander’s body, but it was certainly a low priority.’
Sarah still had questions. ‘Okay, I’m with you so far. But who are they? Who was responsible for shipping Alexander’s tomb out of the city?’
Jasmine shrugged. ‘I wish I knew. As much as I would love to give you a definitive answer, I’ll need to dig into this a lot more if there’s any hope of getting concrete answers. There are experts who have a lot more experience in this type of thing than I do. We might need to reach out to them, maybe even bring a couple down here to look at this and see it for themselves. I’m just not sure—’
Sarah cut her off. ‘Jasmine, don’t be foolish. We can’t bring anyone down here to look at the wall. You know damn well Papi won’t allow it. There’s simply too much at stake to trust outsiders.’
‘Like Simon?’
Sarah glared at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Jasmine took a step back, surprised by the sudden hostility. ‘Nothing.’
‘Bullshit,’ she hissed. ‘It meant something or you wouldn’t have said it. Tell me what you meant, or I’ll really be pissed.’
‘It’s just, well,’ she stammered as she struggled to find the words. ‘I know you reached out to Simon when you first arrived in Egypt, and from what I heard, it didn’t turn out too well. Weren’t you chased by some gunmen?’
‘This isn’t my fault!’
‘Wait. What are you talking about?’ It took a few seconds for Jasmine to connect the dots. ‘Sarah, I wasn’t implying that you had anything to do with the guys in the tunnels. Honest to God, I wasn’t. I have no idea why they’re here.’
‘Listen,’ Sarah said icily, ‘take your pictures and collect whatever evidence you need because we won’t be coming back anytime soon. And be quick about it.’
‘And you?’
‘I’m going to check out the rest of the tunnel. I want to see where it goes.’
* * *
McNutt helped Cobb from the water as each pondered their next move.
‘How many have you spotted?’ Cobb demanded.
‘No idea,’ McNutt admitted. ‘I haven’t had time to count because I’ve been running for my life. Speaking of which, who the hell is chasing us?’
Before Cobb could reply, a blood-curdling wail echoed through the chamber.
‘And what the hell was that?’ McNutt added.
Cobb didn’t like surprises. If someone was still out there searching for them, he preferred to bring the fight to them, not the other way around. ‘Let’s find out.’
‘Let’s not,’ McNutt said. ‘My weapon is fucked.’
Cobb growled and handed him his gun. ‘Here.’
‘Screw that. I’m not taking your gun.’
‘Why not? You gave it to me in the first place.’
‘True, but . . .’
He forced it into McNutt’s hand. ‘Take the gun and follow me. That’s an order.’
McNutt nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
Cobb sprinted from the flooded cistern to the adjacent chamber where he effortlessly jumped to the floor below. Much as it pained him to admit it, he knew that McNutt was the better shot, so giving up his gun had been an easy decision to make. As the team leader, his job was to help his team succeed, and the best way to do that was to give them the tools they required. It didn’t matter to Cobb that he was temporarily defenseless, save for his years of training. What mattered was his team’s success.
Up ahead in the darkness, Cobb spotted someone lying face down in a shallow pool
of blood. Before McNutt could join him on the floor, he signaled for him to stay where he was and provide cover from an elevated position.
McNutt dropped to his knee and raised his gun.
Cobb approached the victim cautiously, unsure if it was a trap. As he got closer, he noted the size of the body. This wasn’t an ordinary man. This was a giant; most likely one of the gunmen who had chased Sarah and Simon from the tavern.
If not, then they had stumbled across a Yeti.
Cobb crouched low and pressed a finger to the victim’s neck, checking for any signs of life. There were none. Shaking his head to inform McNutt that the man was dead, Cobb rolled the body over onto its back. The first thing he noticed was the assault rifle that had been pinned underneath the man’s sizeable frame. The second thing Cobb noticed were the entrails that spilled out of the hole in the man’s torso.
Though the cut to the stomach appeared to have been the fatal blow, it wasn’t the only wound. Deep lacerations covered the brute’s face and torso. Chunks of flesh hung from his arms. Three fingers and his nose had been completely cleaved from his body, and his left leg had been repeatedly sliced to the bone.
Cobb knew torture when he saw it.
This was something more.
They had toyed with him.
* * *
Kamal had also heard the scream. The low, terrified howl reached every corner of the water system. Kamal had already seen what had become of the others in his crew. The two that had mistakenly shot each other had been lucky in comparison to the other three he had discovered – those who had met their fate at the tip of a blade.
He didn’t need to witness the execution to know who it was.
The cries of agony were all he needed.
Tarek was dead.
As he struggled to climb the ramshackle pillars back up toward the boiler room, Kamal’s mind raced. This was a catastrophe. Not only had he failed to recover the woman, he had somehow managed to lose six men including his best friend in the process.
Hassan would have his head on a platter.
Kamal reasoned that killing everyone was a better option than returning with news that the woman was still on the loose. Now all he needed was a way to make that happen.
The city’s water main was his salvation.
The wide conduit ran along the ceiling of the first chamber before disappearing into the infrastructure above. Nearly a third of the city was serviced through this one channel delivering thousands of gallons of water every minute of the day.
Rupturing one pipe would flood the entire network.
It would also prevent the woman’s escape.
Kamal smiled at the thought.
29
During the cistern’s conversion into a bomb shelter, the water main had been tapped for those who might be forced to take refuge underground. Valves had been installed that would divert the flow of water into the cistern, providing a source of hydration and a means to bathe. The pipes that once channeled the water to the floor far below had long since been removed, but the old valves were still in place.
Shards of metal and rust flew in all directions as Kamal emptied his clip into the antiquated plumbing. He couldn’t destroy it completely, but he could damage it.
His bullets created multiple leaks.
The leaks became a lengthy crack.
And the pressure tore the crack apart.
A torrent of water gushed from the pipe, showering everything in the room. But it still wasn’t enough for Kamal. To ensure that anyone in the network of tunnels would be unable to exit through the apartment building, he braced his legs against the nearest arch and pushed it with all of his might. The stone quivered against the stress of the giant’s strength, which was fueled by adrenalin and rage.
He pushed, and pushed, and pushed some more.
Until the ancient arch gave way.
Then he gazed at the wreckage and said a prayer for his friend.
* * *
McNutt jumped down from the arch above and stared at the body of the monstrous thug. Without saying a word, he calmly handed the pistol back to Cobb. He then stepped forward and retrieved the assault rifle from the pile of guts on the floor. Wiping away the thick film of gore that coated the weapon, McNutt’s eyes gleamed with joy.
‘Happy now?’ Cobb asked.
‘Very,’ McNutt answered.
‘Good. Let’s keep moving.’
‘Right behind you.’
As Cobb crept through the tunnels in silence, he followed the markings on the walls that he had left earlier. Because of his foresight, there was no need for Garcia to guide them through the system. This allowed Cobb and McNutt to focus their attention on the sounds of the underground network instead of directions.
Hearing a noise, Cobb suddenly froze.
He crouched into a defensive stance and listened.
McNutt nearly tripped over him as he stepped backwards through the darkness, covering their rear. He turned to see why Cobb had stopped and was met with the sight of Cobb’s closed fist. In the military, the signal meant to stop immediately.
No movement. No questions. No sound.
Cobb slowly opened his fist and tapped his finger to his ear.
There was something out there, and Cobb could hear it.
Both men peered into the darkness, searching for the source of the sound.
In the end, they felt it before they saw it.
‘The tunnel’s flooding,’ Cobb said as he stood.
McNutt did the same. He looked down and saw wet circles on his pants legs, the result of kneeling on the floor. He was pretty sure he hadn’t pissed himself, so he agreed with Cobb’s assessment. ‘I think you’re right.’
The surprises didn’t end with the flooding.
With the water slowly rising around their feet, an eerie glow sprang to life across the ceiling. Unfortunately, the light was nestled on top of the arches – too far away for Cobb and McNutt to see from the bottom of the cistern. Like indirect lighting, they could see the glow but not the source.
‘What the hell is that?’ Cobb demanded.
‘You can see it, too?’
‘Of course I can see it!’
‘Thank God! I thought I was seeing things again.’
Cobb growled in annoyance. ‘Cover me.’
With McNutt standing guard, Cobb tucked his pistol into his waistband. Then he used the carved slots in the wall to climb up to the next level. Once he was on top of the bottom arch, he pulled out his gun and called down to McNutt. ‘Your turn.’
‘Coming, chief.’
From that point on, they alternated their climbs until they could determine the source of the light – one man covering the other as they made their way from the bottom of the cistern to the very top. With unknown forces still in the tunnels, Cobb and McNutt couldn’t risk lowering their weapons at the same time because that would leave them defenseless.
Unfortunately, when they reached the ceiling and saw what they were facing, they realized that their guns couldn’t protect them at all. Instead, they simply stared at the sources of the light as the horror of their discovery crept in.
‘Holy fuck,’ McNutt said in awe.
Multiple packs of explosives had been attached to the highest arches. Not one or two packs, but more than a dozen, spread out in all directions in the cistern. Each pack included a booster charge – a detonator that would trigger a much bigger blast – and a digital timer. It was these timers that cast the eerie glow.
Cobb glanced at the closest one.
4:48 . . . 4:47 . . . 4:46 . . . and counting.
Though McNutt was the expert, Cobb had enough experience with explosives to understand the gravity of the situation. He shined his light on the nearest bomb pack and could see the telltale red coloring of Semtex. The explosive would, at the very least, bring the whole room down on itself. Given the amount of Semtex spread across the ceiling, the more likely result would be a massive, smoldering crater that would devastate an
ything and anyone above the cistern.
In that moment, dozens of questions flooded Cobb’s mind.
How long had the explosives been there?
Had they been placed prior to his rekky the night before, or had his rekky led to the placement of the bombs?
If his rekky forced their hand, what were they trying to hide?
Was it information about Alexander’s tomb, or were the tunnels being used for criminal activities such as break-ins or drug running?
Ultimately, Cobb knew this wasn’t the time or place to worry about any of those things. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was a single, crucial question that would determine their fate.
He glanced at McNutt. ‘Can you defuse them?’
McNutt shook his head. ‘No time.’
* * *
There were no more pictographs in the final tunnel. The walls were bare and roughly hewn, without carvings or decorations of any kind. The only thing Sarah found as she pushed deeper into the passageway was a number of steps leading up toward the surface. Appearing in pairs, the steps created tiers rather than stairs. A few of the paired steps were only a few paces apart, but others required a longer walk between them.
Sarah hadn’t bothered to keep track of how many steps she had taken, but she knew she had to be getting close to the surface.
She scanned the farthest reaches of her light, searching for an exit.
A few minutes into her exploration, Sarah caught the glint of her flashlight’s beam as it reflected off the floor of a large cavern. Stranger still, it almost seemed like the shimmery floor was swaying back and forth inside the tunnel. Intrigued by the phenomenon, she jogged forward and found she wasn’t looking at the floor at all.
She was staring at a pool of water.
The walls of the tunnel widened, rising high above the grotto. The natural cave was encircled by massive pylons that supported the rotunda above – all constructed from the same Roman concrete described by Jasmine earlier. Sarah raised her flashlight and could see where the dome had been smoothed and polished. She traced her light across the curved ceiling, then back down the opposite wall to the water’s edge.
The Forbidden Tomb Page 17