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The Scroll

Page 28

by Grant R. Jeffrey


  “My team is investigating that. The police have been notified, as have internal security agencies. I can tell you that the man monitoring the video system was nullified.”

  “Fell asleep?”

  There was a heated pause, and Chambers realized he had let his mouth get him in trouble again.

  “He’s dead.”

  Chambers thought it best not to speak.

  “The man has three children. I tell you that so you’ll understand. I’m going to find who did this and make him suffer—suffer hard.”

  Chambers covered his face with his hands. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. Amber’s room empty; her blouse on the bed with a curved knife stuck through it and deep into the mattress; the note: “Tell anyone, and she is dead. You will be contacted.”

  Then there was the Polaroid photo next to the blouse: the image of Amber, tape over her mouth, knife to her throat. Her expression … the fear … the pleading in her eyes … “Oh, God, dear God.”

  He felt someone sit next to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look up. A muscular hand landed on his shoulder and rested there. Chambers dissolved into tears.

  “Dr. Chambers. David, listen to me. I need you to do a few things.”

  “What? I’ll do anything.”

  “First, I need you to pull yourself together as soon as possible. I know this is tough, but when the bad guys contact you, I need you to be on your game.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “No, David. This isn’t one of those situations where you try. You will pull yourself together. There is no other choice. Use that high-octane brain of yours. Am I clear?”

  “Yes. I’ll try—I’ll do it.”

  “Good. Next, I need you to stop all work on the dig sites. I mean all of them. I want the kidnappers to think they’re winning. Now listen to me. I’ve already spoken to the prime minister, and he is activating every intelligence agency in Israel. That includes all the military intelligence branches of the Israeli Defense Forces. Shin Bet is pouring everything it has into this. Even Mossad is working with their overseas operatives. Yakov has also told me he’s calling in favors from friendly intelligence groups like the CIA, MI6, and others.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Just to be clear, David, he’s not doing it for you or even for Amber, although he is very concerned about her. He’s doing this because we’re sitting on a powder keg. Here’s the good news: Israel is always in danger from within and without. That has made us paranoid and extremely good at monitoring our citizens and enemies. We are the best in video surveillance. Right now, a team of video-surveillance analysts are using the best computer software to analyze data. We’ve tracked terrorists this way before.”

  Chambers lowered his hands and took several deep breaths. “I understand. How do you think they will contact me?”

  “Unknown. They might contact the hotel by phone, but I doubt it. They know we can trace that. My guess is they’ll send an emissary, a third party who doesn’t know what’s going on—maybe a kid paid to deliver an envelope or an encrypted cell phone. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “My mother used to say the hardest work a person will ever do is wait for someone they love.”

  “Smart woman.”

  “Yes, she was.” He rose and walked to his window. Outside the new sun cast golden rays on the predominately brown Jerusalem. Buses of tourists passed along the road belching black clouds of diesel smoke as the vehicles pressed through traffic. Birds flew through a crystalline sky, oblivious to the pain raging in his soul. That was the way with the world, tragedies happened every few minutes—people died of starvation, criminals assaulted the innocent, wars took the lives of young men and women who had barely begun to live, cancer ate away the rich and the poor, and terrorists schemed to force their twisted sense of justice on society. Amber was one of seven billion people on the planet. To Chambers, she was the most important person.

  “You’ll keep me posted, won’t you?”

  Landau rose. “Yes sir. I will.”

  The hotel room proved too small for Chambers. He found Landau and told him he was going to the first floor for some coffee. He could have made coffee in his room, but it wasn’t the drink he was after, it was space, something less restrictive, less claustrophobic. Hours had passed, and the stress of sleeplessness and shock drained him. He took a seat in the restaurant, refused a menu, and consumed cup after cup of strong black coffee.

  Two hours later, Chambers could sit no longer. His mind was blurry, and his nerves on edge from the caffeine. He paced the lobby, but his restless energy didn’t dissipate. Fresh air. That’s what he needed. He passed the bar and looked in. One of the televisions mounted near the ceiling showed a local news program. The image of hundreds of protesters massing in the streets of the Old City reminded Chambers of the horde of angry people in the street yesterday.

  Odd. The street in front of the hotel was calm, uncluttered. Maybe Yakov, the police, and Shin Bet had found a way to keep them away. What more could go wrong? He stepped into the street. The morning had grown warm. The sound of traffic and chatty pedestrians formed a cacophony of confusion. A helicopter circled overhead.

  Inhaling deeply, he took in the aroma of the city, contemporary and ancient. What was Amber smelling? The thought of her bound, held in some room, enduring torment his mind refused to imagine eroded what little strength he had left. Never had he felt so helpless, so hopeless, so mentally and emotionally weak.

  A cab pulled from the street and up to the covered porch. The driver, a dark-skinned man with East African features exited. “Will there be any luggage, Dr. Chambers?”

  The sound of his name pulled him from the fog. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Luggage, sir.” The accent was definitely African. Ethiopian, maybe Somali. “Baggage, sir?”

  “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong man. I didn’t call for a cab.”

  “I am so sorry. I thought you were Dr. Chambers. You look very much like his picture.”

  “I am Dr. Chambers, but I didn’t.” He recalled the note stating he would be contacted. He also remembered Landau’s comment about the kidnappers using an innocent third party. He should ask the man to wait and retrieve Landau, or at very least, one of the security men. Most of them, however, were still searching the grounds and empty rooms of the hotel. He made a command decision and prayed he wasn’t making a mistake. “No, no luggage. Just me.”

  Shutting down his screaming subconscious, David Chambers entered the cab.

  “May I ask how you knew to pick me up?” Chambers sat in the back of the well-used cab.

  “You called for a cab, sir.” The driver, whom Chambers guessed was in his midthirties but was probably younger, looked confused.

  “I didn’t call for you.”

  “My dispatcher sent me.” He pointed a finger at the radio. “Maybe one of your associates made the arrangements. It’s all been paid for, sir, if that is what concerns you.”

  “No concerns.” A moment later: “How did you know I would be in front of the hotel?”

  “I didn’t, sir. I was to call the front desk when I arrived, but you were already there.”

  Chambers started to ask where they were going, but the cabbie already looked too puzzled. He would wait. Ten minutes later, the driver stopped in front of a bank. Chambers tipped the man, feeling silly that he might be giving money to someone leading him to his demise. He exited the car and waited on the sidewalk. A moment later another cab appeared; this one from a different company.

  The driver slipped from the seat. “You are Dr. Chambers, yes?” Arabic accent.

  This time Chambers didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I am.”

  The driver opened the rear door, and Chambers was on another ride, which ended in front a museum. Then another cab. Each time, he was told that a dispatcher sent the cab. It was in the third cab that he had a frightening realization: he had not brought his encrypted cell phone. What if Landau needed to reach him?
What if he needed to reach Landau?

  There was nothing to do about it now. He considered asking the driver to take him back to his hotel, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew nothing about spy procedures and intrigue. He just knew that a series of cab rides like this could not be coincidence.

  The surroundings became familiar again. He had been driven through much of the city, but the sight of the Dome of the Rock and signs to the Wailing Wall told him his destination. The cab pulled to the open, tree-dotted area just outside the Muslim compound. “Here we are, sir. May Allah bless your day.”

  Chambers conjured a smile and reached for his wallet. The driver waved him off. “All is paid for, sir. Even the gratuity. Your people are very kind.”

  “Yes, they are.” Chambers couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  He needed no directions. There could be only one place in mind. Chambers walked from the street, along the path into the trees, beneath the shadow of the Dome, to the concrete structure that protected the Jerusalem access to Herod’s tunnel. He dialed the combination used the last time he was there just days ago. He had a hunch to leave the door unlocked. He did the same with the welded-rebar grate over the opening in the floor.

  Every step Chambers took was laden with fear. Not for his own safety but for Amber’s. His greatest terror was tripping over her body. He evicted the thought. If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her in the room. If they wanted him dead, he would have found them waiting when he retired for the night. If they wanted everyone dead, they would have set a bomb on the wing. If they could get past the video surveillance, if they could kill the guard at the monitors and steal his master key, they could have done any of that and more.

  At the back of the wall, he retrieved a helmet with the attached miner’s light and a flashlight. He shouldn’t need either since the work lights in the tunnel would come on the moment he activated the generator, but old safety habits died hard.

  He moved slowly, as if his concern and fear had weight. He slipped down the hole into Herod’s tunnel. Was he supposed to do that? Is that what they wanted? He didn’t know. It made sense. Why else arrange an elaborate ruse to get him here?

  Rung by rung, he had descended into what had been his greatest archaeological find before returning to Jerusalem, down into the tunnel that led to a secret compartment that held items no one ever expected to see again.

  Every other time he descended into the gut of the tunnel, Chambers felt the crushing, clawed hand of some invisible giant squeezing his heart and lungs, but not this time. Before, he had to remind himself to breathe and force his heart to slow; he had to remind himself that walls of solid rock don’t close in on unsuspecting archaeologists. He expected the same fear, but it didn’t come. He could no longer be bothered with fear for himself, not when the only woman he loved was in danger.

  He walked a short distance down the tunnel, found one of the few level areas of floor, and sat. There was nothing else to do but wait.

  Then he heard a sound.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Footsteps echoed off the rock walls. In the distance, thirty or forty meters down the tunnel, was a man. He walked slowly toward Chambers like a man out for an afternoon stroll.

  Chambers stood. The man wore a helmet light, which he kept directed at Chambers, leaving the visitor in silhouette against the work lights that trailed down the tunnel. He also carried a bright flashlight, the beam of which he kept in Chambers’s face. Chambers raised a hand and squinted into the glow.

  “Who are you?” Chambers’s words rolled down the corridor.

  No answer.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Yes, you did, David.”

  The voice stunned him. “Nuri?”

  The man lowered the beam spotlight and switched off the light on his helmet. “Yes, David, it is me.”

  Chambers gave a smile, which quickly evaporated. “Wait. I didn’t see you at the hotel. Amber. She’s been taken.”

  “I know all about it, David.” He grinned and motioned to the tunnel. “A fitting place, no? Your great discovery. Your legacy. Until, that is, our recent finds. Nothing compares to such marvelous religious artifacts.”

  “You know about Amber? I didn’t see you at the hotel. I-I didn’t even think about you.”

  “I have been working all night. With Amber.”

  Chambers tensed. “You know where she is?”

  “Yes. I know how she got there, and I know exactly what you’re going to do.”

  Fury boiled in Chambers, and he drew his hands into fists.

  Nuri chuckled. “David, David. You have been so angry, so quick to attack those around you. It is your weakness, my friend. Do you want to attack me? Of course you do. Why shouldn’t you? You should know that it would be bad for you and for Amber.”

  “You don’t frighten me, Nuri.”

  Nuri’s face hardened. “David, I can kill you in forty different ways. I practice daily. I have dreamed of it ever since we’ve arrived. Trust me. I’d love to do that right now, but that’s not my mission. There is only one way to save your darling Amber.”

  “Say it.”

  “We want it all. Every ingot and vessel of gold, every ounce of silver, every religious artifact. You will turn it all over to us.”

  “Do you really think the professor will turn those things over to you? He won’t. You know that. Your greed has made you stupid.”

  “Greed? Yes, I am greedy, but there’s more to it than that. The Jews will not rebuild their temple. Not now, not ever. They might raise the money, but they will not have the instruments they need. I’ll make sure those are destroyed. As for our dear Ben-Judah, well, you’ll have to convince him. He loves you; he loves Amber. You might as well be his own flesh and blood. He’ll listen to you. He’ll do anything to save Amber’s life.”

  “You’re wrong. You’re an archaeologist. How can you destroy such ancient artifacts?”

  “Some things are more important. Who knows, there may be more political value in them than monetary. That will suit my superiors fine.”

  “You’re crazy, Nuri. You’ve lost what little mind you had. You know I don’t control those things. Ben-Judah and Yakov have them locked away. There’s no way I can release them to you.”

  Nuri shrugged. “I admit, it seems impossible, but you can work miracles. Ben-Judah—and it wasn’t nice of you to let me think he was dead all this time—will do it. As I said, he loves you and Amber.”

  “Then you don’t understand the man. This is his life. He’d die first.”

  “That is his choice, but you must help him understand that Amber will die first. Maybe I could arrange a little proof for you and for him. Which of her body parts would you like sent to you?”

  Chambers took a step forward.

  “Please, David. Try. I’ll be punished for killing you, but it will be worth it.”

  Chambers stopped, caught between fury that demanded blood and fear for Amber’s life. Heroics here would do nothing for Amber, wherever she was.

  “We trusted you.”

  Nuri raised an eyebrow. “Really? You trusted me.” He laughed.

  “I didn’t say I liked you, Nuri, but I never doubted your skill, just your personality. Ben-Judah trusted you. So did Amber.”

  “I imagine that will change now.” He motioned up the tunnel. “It is time you delivered my message. Go. Deliver the message.”

  “You know what the answer will be.”

  “Then you have a problem. Oh, and be sure to lock the grate over the entry. We wouldn’t want anyone to fall in and get hurt.” Nuri turned and started a casual stroll toward Jericho.

  It took only one cab ride to return from the hotel, and when he arrived, he wished he had asked the driver to keep going.

  “Where have you been?” Landau’s face was red around the edges, and Chambers was sure he could see the man’s carotid artery pulse. “And why don’t you have your phone?”

  “I didn’t know
I was going out.” He started across the lobby. “Nuri’s part of it.”

  “I know.” Landau’s voice had an edge to it.

  “You do? Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because we just found out. If you hadn’t been out sightseeing—”

  Chambers stopped and spun, taking a step closer to the man. “I wasn’t sightseeing. Nuri or whoever he works for had it arranged.” He paused and lowered his voice. “Look, it was stupid, I know. The note on Amber’s bed said someone would contact me. When the cabbie called my name, I thought the time had come. I want Amber back, and if that means getting into a cab I didn’t hire, then so be it. We have to know what they want. I’m helpless to do anything else.”

  Landau seized his elbow in a way Chambers knew would leave marks and directed him through the lobby, past the front desk, and into one of the empty conference rooms. For a moment, Chambers thought the Shin Bet man would push him through the door without opening it.

  The moment the door latched behind them, Landau pointed at one of the seats that surrounded a small conference table. “Sit down.”

  “I don’t feel like sitting.”

  “I can arrange that.”

  Chambers rolled his eyes but sat. “Fine. Tell me you have found Amber.”

  “Okay, we know where she is.”

  He was on his feet again. “Really? Is she okay?”

  “I told you to sit.”

  Chambers did. “Is she okay?”

  “I’ll tell you this much, then you’re going to spill your guts about Nuri and where you were. Then and only then will I give you more information about Amber. Clear?”

  “Clear.”

  “We know where she is but not her condition. We assume she’s still alive since they need her to manipulate you … us.”

  “Where?”

  “About a year ago, in the east part of the city, the Muslims built a school to train clerics. She’s being kept there.”

  “How did—”

  “Despite what you might think at the moment, we’re good at what we do. Jerusalem is a surveilled city. It has to be. I told you that the man assigned to watch the security monitors had been killed. We think Nuri was the murderer.” He held up a hand. “You’re going to ask why. This will go quicker if you sit and listen. We can’t prove he’s the killer, but we will. He was known to our man, so he could approach him without raising suspicion. Then he fired a small caliber round into the man’s heart. Of course, the gun would have had a silencer. He then disabled the monitors and headed to your floor.”

 

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