A loose stone shifted under Chambers’s boot and a slight pain ran up his leg. He tested the foot by putting more weight on it. Still usable. He pushed on, his helmet light moving from side to side and up and down. The ceiling dropped lower with each step.
Chambers’s biggest fear was choosing the wrong part of the tunnel below the school. GPS was useless belowground. Distance was impossible to measure over uneven ground. His only advantage was the T-ray and GPR readings and the fact that the fissure made a sharp turn north about twenty meters from the center of the school’s plaza. Aerial photos showed a wide open space of grass with picnic tables spaced a few feet apart. The rest of the space was open and perhaps used for assemblies, a casual game of soccer, or even outdoor prayers made toward Mecca. Chambers didn’t know, and at the moment, he didn’t care.
The ceiling dropped another half meter, and Chambers had to hunch to continue. A dozen steps later, he had to remove his backpack and carry it so it wouldn’t hang on the rough rock above. He wondered how Landau and the soldiers were doing but decided they were better equipped for this than he.
The fissure banked south for a dozen steps, then east again. Chambers had memorized the survey and knew every turn coming his way. What he hadn’t expected was how small the space would become. It seemed that with every step the walls grew closer and the ceiling lower. Finally, Chambers stopped and looked at the area in front of him.
“Looks like a tight fit,” Landau said. Chambers was sucking air, and even Landau’s breathing was heavy.
“I think the fissure is bigger a little farther along.”
“You think?”
“Only one way to find out.” He handed Landau his backpack. “If I don’t come back, you can keep my computer.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Stay close. You should be able to hear me from the other side.”
“We’re still talking about the cave, right?”
“Funny. If I get stuck, send the skinniest soldier after me.”
“Doc, none of them are skinny.”
Chambers took a deep breath and let it out. He repeated the action several times. “Remember when I asked about anyone being claustrophobic?”
“Yes. You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“You’re the first one I’ve told. Keep it a secret, okay.”
“Look, let me go first—”
“No. If this doesn’t work out, you need to find another way to save Amber.”
Landau patted him on the shoulder. “Will do, but this will work out. I trust your scientific intuition.”
One more deep breath, then, after a short prayer, he removed his helmet, shoved it in the hole and followed after. The light from the helmet pressed back the blackness. Sharp edges and rocky points dug at his skin, tearing his jumpsuit uniform. He pushed with his feet, pulled with his hands. Dust filled his nose and mouth.
He grunted and clawed another meter, then another. He felt as if he were crawling through a straw. Then his outstretched hand took hold of—nothing. Tilting his head up, Chambers saw the beam of his light shining on a distant wall, a wall with a large space in front of it.
Sweat poured into his eyes as he inched forward. Another meter, and Chambers’s head emerged from the sharp confines into a wide corridor-like passageway. He wasted no time extracting himself. The distance to the floor was twice that of the entry point. The ceiling was three meters above his head. Chambers felt as if he had entered a ballroom.
He donned his helmet and looked around. What he saw gave him relief. The fissure continued just as the surveys indicated. Then a dark realization settled on him: the hard part was still to come. He returned to the space he had just escaped and directed his light down the dark gullet and wiggled it. The he spoke one word. “Clear.”
A few moments later, Landau emerged, pushing Chambers’s backpack in front of him. “That was fun.”
“I should punch you.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Fear of painful death.”
“You know, Doc. I’m starting to like you.”
Chambers started down the passageway while the other soldiers crawled through, pushing their weapons before them. He removed the tablet PC he had been carrying and activated it. The light pushed back some of the darkness. He studied the surveys and his calculations. They were close. He waited for the others to join him, then he removed a long cloth tape measure and handed one end to Landau. “Have someone take this end back to the place where we turned north.”
Landau did and the men parted for the soldier. Chambers then moved up the grade until he had walked fifty meters. Setting down the tape, he looked to the ceiling.
“We’re here.” He looked at Landau. “It’s your show now.”
Two men formed stirrups with their hands and lifted a soldier high enough to place shaped charges of plastic explosive. One thing working in their favor was the wider size of the fissure in this area. If it were too narrow, the best they could hope for was a hole in the ceiling and a fissure so cluttered with debris that the mission would have to be called off.
Chambers had made his way back to the small opening, ordered there by Landau. This was as far as the security man would let him go. “You’re untrained and unarmed, and you present a danger to the mission, to us, and to Amber.” The words stung, but Chambers recognized the wisdom. This was no movie. If he attempted to do what the trained soldiers were about to do, he could get in their way and get someone killed. Or if he were wounded, then the team would have two people to rescue.
Two concerns swirled to the top of his mind. One, he couldn’t be sure how thick the overhead material was. He had asked for and received a handheld altimeter, which he carried in the backpack. He had been able to establish the target area’s height above sea level. By comparing that to the top-of-the-line altimeter and guessing the distance to the top of the fissure, Chambers estimated the rock material to be only two meters thick. The other concern was that any hole that allowed soldiers to ascend into the school would also allow terrorists to descend.
The sound of fast-moving boots drew him from his morbid thoughts. Six soldiers filled the space, crouching against the walls. One held a remote control. Landau was the last to appear. He remained erect and studied two soldiers as each removed a folding, telescoping aluminum assault ladder from their packs. With practiced moves, they unfolded each segment and locked it in place, creating a ladder two meters in length. Each tactical ladder had a pair of long, clawlike hooks on the end. When they finished, each man gave Landau a nod.
“Masks.” Landau pulled a balaclava from a pocket and pulled the ski-mask-like hood over his head. Again, the soldiers followed suit without a word. For Chambers it was a reminder to don the construction mask he had been provided. It was going to get dusty.
Landau took a breath, then said, “Ears.” He pulled a pair of earplugs from his pocket. The soldiers did the same. Chambers scrambled to find his pair in his backpack. Landau gave him a moment. Once Chambers had stuffed the red plugs in his ear canals, he looked at Landau, who took a moment to eye each man.
He held out a hand, three fingers extended, and drew them in one by one, then tapped the soldier with the remote on the shoulder.
Chambers saw a flash, felt the limestone in the wall behind him shudder, then heard the sharp report of the plastic explosive. A tsunami of dust shot down the fissure like smoke. Chambers closed his eyes against the flying grit. When he opened them again, he was alone.
THIRTY-SIX
Amber felt a rumble through the floor. She was seated on the concrete, and the vibration made her jump to her feet. She had no place to go. For two days she had been confined to a shed with nothing more than a cot to sleep on and a bucket for her bathroom needs. She didn’t know where she was. Nuri had seen to that. Once in the van, he had blindfolded her. He uttered only one line. “David’s life depends on your cooperation.”
She wanted to ask why he would do this. She wanted an explan
ation but held no hope of receiving one. One thought came to mind: he was after the artifacts or the treasure. If that was the case, she was doomed. Yakov and Ben-Judah might offer money to save her life, but they wouldn’t trade what they considered the revival of spiritual Israel for her. She wouldn’t want them to. If she had to die, then so be it. Her prayers were more for David’s safety than for hers.
Pacing like a caged tiger, Amber wished for a window. She tried to peek through the narrow opening between the shed doors but could see nothing. What little light crept in from the exterior lights blinked out. Power outage? Was that what had caused the vibration and noise? A transformer explosion?
The sound of a gunshot answered her question.
Landau was the third man over the fallen debris but the first up the tactical ladder. Driven by his fury at the injustice of the deaths he had been forced to see over the course of this mission, especially the agent Nuri had killed, Landau pressed himself through the ragged opening in the ceiling of the limestone fissure. It was a tight fit. The moment he emerged, he raised the Uzi submachine gun and scanned the courtyard and buildings. A slight moon hung above, enabling his night-vision goggles to reveal every movement in the dark.
Where were they keeping her? In the hours before the mission, Landau had studied everything he could find about the structure. He had been able to retrieve architectural plans, photos of the grounds, and publicity snapshots from the school’s Web site meant to draw future clerics and Islamic theologians. He also learned that students were still on campus. Of course, that had been the plan of Nuri and his people. He couldn’t prove it, but he had no doubt Hussein Al-Malik was behind this. Another problem for another time. His task was to find and rescue Amber without killing innocent students or faculty in the process.
But where?
Would Nuri hide Amber where some student or cleric could find her? No. He wouldn’t put a woman in a male dormitory. Since classes were still being held during the day, he couldn’t sequester her away there or anyplace where people traveled or congregated. That left outbuildings: storage structures, equipment buildings, groundskeeper’s sheds.
Six other men poured from the rabbit hole and spread out. Landau, on a hunch, headed for the back of the compound. As he moved across the open plaza, he saw a door to his right open. It was one of the dormitories. Several young men spilled from the opening and found themselves staring into the automatic rifles of two of his men. It took less than five seconds to press the group back into the building. The soldiers followed according to plan. The best way to keep the innocent safe was to keep them out of the way. The rest of the team spread out along the plaza.
Landau knew of four structures that seemed too small to be used for anything but storage. He made for those. Reaching the edge of one of the longer, two-story classroom structures, he paused and did a quick check. Nothing moved. He rounded the corner and ran down an alley formed by the perimeter wall and the building. In a corner, nestled near the northeast corner of the lot, was a string of sheds, each about three meters square. Landau approached slowly, weapon at the ready. Two men stood at the doors of one of the sheds, each dressed in long robes. They looked nervous. That they hadn’t raced to the site of an explosive noise told him the men were guards, ordered not to leave their post.
Landau had no place for cover. The men had seen him and each raised an AK-47 assault rifle his way. Human nature told him to duck, to run, to seek protection; training taught him to tap the trigger of his weapon to send three rounds from the automatic Uzi into the guards’ chests. Training won out. Landau had made two perfect body-mass shots. The men folded before they could pull a trigger.
Advance. Step by step. Weapon up. Eyes scanning.
He rounded the corner of the building just in time to see a third armed man approaching. Another tap of the trigger, but this time, Landau’s aim was off. He hit the man in the head.
Now he faced several sheds and hoped Amber was in one of them. “Amber?” He hoped she would recognize his voice.
“Here.”
One shed down. “Amber? It’s Landau.”
“Yes, it’s me. Help.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Landau studied the lock. It was an expensive combination lock set in a cheap latch. If he had time, he would have laughed at the irony. One side of the latch was held in place by five wood screws. The screws were strong; the wood door was another matter. “Stand back from the door.” A recurring mantra in his years of training had been to attack the weakest link. He did. Landau kicked the door just to the inside of the latch. It took two strong strikes, but the wood splintered where the screws had been attached. The door slammed open, and Amber sprinted from the dark space. She threw her arms around Landau.
“You look beautiful in black.”
He pulled her away. They were far from safe. “Beautiful? We have to work on your choice of adjectives.” He studied her. “Are you injured?”
“Just a little roughed up.”
“Okay, let’s get you out of here. Stay close and stay behind me at all times. Do everything I say without question. Got it?”
“Got it. David’s in danger—”
“No he’s not. If God is good, you will see him in a few minutes.”
“God is good. Lead the way.”
Landau keyed his radio. “Package is in hand.” He retraced his steps, stopping at the plaza-side corner of the building. He saw one team of two at the entrance point, each man on one knee, weapons raised. Another team of two joined them assuming the same posture.
“Wait,” he told Amber.
The team that stopped the flow of students from the dormitory appeared and jogged to Landau’s position. No words were needed. This part had been discussed and practiced. The two men with Landau formed a triangle of protection around Amber and ran toward the opening they had created in the ground five minutes before. When they reached the hole, Landau said, “Go.”
Two soldiers slipped down the ladder.
“You’re next,” he said to Amber. She didn’t question the direction. A minute later she was below grade. One by one the spec ops team disappeared down the rabbit hole leaving Landau to descend last. He was team leader: first in, last out.
He shouldered his weapon, glanced at the tactical ladder and the tomblike blackness. He took a step toward the ladder, then staggered sideways. Something had hit him in the arm. His arm grew warm, then exploded in pain.
“Off with the mask.”
Landau looked at his arm and saw a hole in his sleeve oozing blood. The world seemed to spin. He reached for his weapon, but his arm wouldn’t move.
A man approached. Nuri.
Landau tried to reach across his body for his sidearm, but the man was on him before he negotiated the move. A boot caught Landau’s belt, doubling him over. Nuri yanked Landau’s sidearm from the holster and tossed it to the side. Then he stepped back. “I said remove the mask.”
Landau straightened, pulled his helmet from his head, and slipped off the mask.
“Hiram Landau. I might have guessed.”
Landau didn’t speak. He was saving his strength to remain conscious.
“You shouldn’t have done this. If your people had been cooperative, no real harm would have come to Amber. I’m quite fond of her.”
“You locked her in a shed.”
Nuri shrugged. “She is just a woman.”
The anger Landau felt stemmed some of the pain.
A helmeted, masked head appeared in the hole. The soldier swore. Nuri turned the handgun at the soldier. The man could do nothing but drop from the ladder, something that had to hurt. Nuri started for the opening but didn’t finish the first step. Landau used his one working arm to knock Nuri’s arm to the side. The gun went off but the round sank into the grassy surface. Before Nuri recovered, Landau drove a knee into the man’s hip joint, an area filled with sensitive nerves.
Nuri grunted, then screamed in anger. The scream was short, cut off by Landau’s fist s
triking the side of Nuri’s neck and sending a pulse of blood to the brain. Stunned, Nuri wobbled to the side, toward the opening in the ground. Landau pushed him to the ground, then directed him headfirst down the hole. A cracking sound wafted up the opening.
Landau sat, hung his legs into the gaping maw, and took hold of the first rung of the tactical ladder. He felt his strength fading. He struggled down a meter, then dropped into the fissure. His boots landed on something soft. The moment his feet landed on Nuri’s body, two of his team were there to grab him. “Retrieve my weapons, then secure the ladders.”
“Yes sir.” One of the soldiers started up the ladder. There was a new type of darkness swirling in Landau’s eyes that had nothing to do with being underground.
“This way, sir.”
“Report.”
“One other injury besides you, sir. Twisted ankle. The woman and Dr. Chambers are following one of our men through the Straw.”
“The Straw?”
“That’s what Chambers called it.”
“He was first through; he gets to … uh … name it.”
The soldier keyed his microphone. “Have the medic ready. Gunshot wound.”
Another soldier appeared and helped move Landau to the opening Chambers had dubbed the Straw. They sat him down. He was glad to see that Chambers and Amber were gone. So were two of the spec ops team. The medic, a required member of every team, had remained behind.
“First, I’m going to stop the bleeding, then I’m going to give you something for the pain. Can you move your arm at all?”
“No. Get the other men out of here. I’ll make it.”
“Sorry, sir. When it comes to injuries, I outrank you.”
Chambers watched as two soldiers emerged into the first segment of the fissure—one strung a nylon climber’s rope behind him. Together, they pulled Landau through the opening. The medic was the last one through.
Amber was in tears. “Are you … I mean …”
“I don’t know what the medic gave me, but I’m feeling pretty good. I can walk. Sort of.”
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