by Alex Lukeman
The storage unit they'd rented was a little over a mile from the terminal. It was a typical set up, with rows of units arranged neatly in a grid. Each unit had a garage style overhead door. Unit 8 B was halfway down one of the rows. Hamid waited while Amin got out and dealt with the heavy padlock on the door. He rolled the door open. Hamid drove the van inside and shut it down.
Amin came inside, turned on a single overhead bulb, and shut the door. Hamid walked to the back of the van and opened the doors.
The pallet was loaded with what appeared to be sixteen upright air compressors, wrapped in plastic shrink wrap. The compressors were typical of what could be found in any auto store or discount tool house across the country. Each unit was a cylinder about four feet high, topped with a housing containing two gauges for measuring how much air was stored and how much pressure would be released through the hose.
Two of the cylinders hid containers with sarin gas.
CHAPTER 18
The expedition left the hotel the next morning after a breakfast that included shakshuka, an egg dish with lamb meatballs, tomatoes and peppers. It was cool outside, the temperature in the high forties. In the summer months, the temperature during the day in this part of the Negev would rise to well over a hundred degrees. At this time of year, it would only reach the eighties.
Mount Karkom was a forty minute drive from the hotel. For the last part of the drive they could see the mountain looming ahead of them on the desert plain. It had an odd, orange-yellow color in the morning sun.
"They call this the saffron mountain," Rivka said. "When you look at it in the morning light like this, you can see why."
They parked the vehicles near the base of the mountain. The first thing Nick noticed were carvings etched into stones scattered all about the desert floor.
"What is this place?" Nick asked. "Why are there all these carvings?"
"People have been coming here long before there was an Israel," Rivka said. "Most of the carvings date back more than ten thousand years. The mountain was a center of Stone Age worship. You'll find altars, thousands of carvings, circles of stone, you name it."
The rocks bore pictures almost everywhere they looked. Selena pointed at one carved with the image of an animal with huge, curved horns.
"That one looks like an Ibex."
"You're right, that's an Ibex," Rivka said. "They're native to the area. There are over forty thousand carvings here."
"How the hell are we going to find an eye in the middle of all this?" Lamont said. "And even if we do, so what? What's it going to tell us?"
"It would show that we're on the right track," Nick said. "Besides, it might not be an eye. We won't know what it is until we find it."
"If there are forty thousand carvings, the only way we'll find it is to get lucky," Ronnie said.
"We could narrow it down some," Selena said.
"How so?" Nick asked.
"The scroll says to follow in the steps of Moses. What did Moses do on Mount Sinai?"
"He went up to the top. That's where God is supposed to have given him the Ten Commandments."
"Right. So let's do what Moses did and climb to the top."
Ronnie gestured at the base of the mountain a few hundred yards away, where the slope looked shallow enough to climb.
"We could start over there and make our way up."
"I think I'll wait down here," Miriam said. "That breakfast didn't sit too well. I feel a little sick."
"Would you like me to stay with you?" Friedman said. His voice was solicitous.
"I'll be fine Alan. You don't need to worry about me."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Watch for snakes on the way up," Rivka said.
"What snakes?" Selena asked.
"We have poisonous snakes, Vipers. They're really nasty. Then there are scorpions. There are two bad ones in this region, the Deathstalker and the Southern Man Killer."
"Sounds lovely."
"Spiders, too. I don't think we'll see a Black Widow out here but you might run into a Mediterranean Recluse. That one can kill you, and there's no anti-venom for it. Be careful where you step and don't go reaching under any rocks without looking."
"Now I'm really glad I'm staying down here," Miriam said.
"I'll stay with the vehicles," Gideon said. "There's no one else around at the moment, but it's early. There will be tourists, sooner or later."
"Okay," Nick said. "Let's go. It can't be too difficult to climb. If Moses could do it, so can we. We should be back down in a few hours."
They set off toward the spot Ronnie had pointed at and began the climb. Gideon and Miriam watched them until the path they followed took them out of sight.
Miriam gestured at the rocks scattered about. "I think I'll wander around and look at some of these carvings."
"I'm going to hang out in one of the vehicles. Enjoy yourself."
Gideon walked to one of the trucks and climbed in. He leaned back in his seat and pulled his cap down to shade his eyes.
Miriam walked into the desert. When she thought she was far enough from the truck, she took a satellite phone from her belt pack and punched in a number.
"Yes."
"Hassan, it's me."
If Gideon had been nearby, he would've recognized the language she was speaking as Farsi.
"What is your status?"
"They are climbing the mountain," Miriam said. "One of the Jews stayed behind to guard the vehicles."
"How long will they be gone?"
"My guess is about three or four hours," Miriam said.
"Is anyone else present? Tourists?"
"No."
"The Americans have been identified. They are spies who have caused us much trouble in the past. It has been decided to eliminate them."
"Shouldn't we continue to let them lead the way and do the work for us?"
"Are you questioning your orders?"
"No, of course not."
"We have the same information they do. We will find it ourselves."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Eliminate the Jew. We'll be there in twenty minutes."
Hassan disconnected.
Miriam was neither Jewish nor American. Her real name was Ayala Farshid, and she'd been born in Tehran. Her father had been one of the first to join the Revolutionary Guard. Ayala thought of herself as a patriot, a sword of Allah.
She'd been inserted into the Museum in New York because Friedman was an important figure in the American Jewish community, well-connected. People told him things, wrote to him, solicited his advice. Her assignment had been to collect information about the upcoming Jewish World Conference. She assumed there would be an attack on the conference and that many would die. It bothered her not at all. As far as she was concerned, a dead Jew was a good Jew. It was Ayala who had passed on the information leading to the theft of the scroll and the death of the museum guard.
After today, she could stop pretending to be one of the people she hated. After today, she could return to being herself. Perhaps she could even go home. But first there were things that needed to be done.
She put the phone away and walked casually back toward the vehicles. It was beginning to get hot. Gideon was dozing in his seat, his hands clasped in front of him, his hat pulled low.
This is too easy, she thought.
When she was a few steps away, she reached into the pack on her belt. This time she took out a folding knife. The blade made a soft snicking sound as she opened it. The sound registered somewhere in Gideon's awareness. He opened his eyes wide and reached for his pistol, but he was too late. Ayala drove the gleaming blade deep into the side of his neck and twisted, cutting through the carotid artery. Blood fountained out from the gash. Gideon convulsed and gagged, still trying to reach his pistol. Then he slumped forward onto the dashboard and died.
Ayala stepped back and wiped the blade on Gideon's shirt. Blood ran down the side of the seat and under the door, dripping dow
n onto the desert.
It always surprised her, that the body contained so much blood.
She reached in through the window, moved Gideon's body back against the seat, and pulled his hat down over his eyes. It looked as though he was sleeping. She rinsed a little blood off her hands with water from her canteen and waited for the others.
CHAPTER 19
The view from the top of the mountain was worth the climb. The Negev was desolate and barren, but it had an indescribable beauty that was unlike any desert Nick had ever seen. It wasn't rolling sand, like the empty wastes of the Sahara. It wasn't like American deserts, flat with the occasional tree or cactus, nor like the flat, yellow wastelands of Afghanistan. The Negev was rugged and worn, like the face of an old man, filled with colors that changed with every passing cloud, sculpted from the hard earth by millennia of weather.
They hadn't found the second marker. After two hours of fruitless examination of every rock in sight, Nick called it off.
"If the marker is on this mountain, it's not here at the summit," he said.
"I have to agree with you," Friedman said. "I think we would have found it by now."
"Must be almost lunch time," Lamont said. "Are we heading back down?"
Nick nodded. "I don't see any point in staying up here."
Selena stood looking down at the desert spread out below. She could see where the vehicles were parked. Some distance away from them was a flat, smooth area.
"We started climbing without thinking about it much," Selena said. "Take a look down there and tell me what you see."
Nick and the others came up and stood next to her.
"Nice view," Ronnie said.
"Look over there." She pointed. "You see that wide flat space, a hundred yards or so to the right of the cars?"
"What about it?" Nick said.
"Moses had a lot of people with him, right?"
"That's right."
"So where did they camp? Where we started from, the ground is uneven and rough. But that area over there seems almost as if it's been picked clean of rocks. It would be an ideal place for hundreds of people and their animals to put up their tents, or whatever they had."
"I see what you're thinking," Friedman said. "Moses would've climbed up the mountain from wherever it was they pitched camp. If they camped on that flat spot, we should look for a way down to it, a natural trail."
"That's right. If the marker isn't up here, maybe it's on the trail Moses used."
"Following his footsteps," Ronnie said.
"Yes," Selena said.
"It's still a crapshoot," Nick said. "There must be half a dozen ways down this mountain."
"Not really," Selena said. "It gets pretty steep and there's a lot of loose rock. It would be hard to climb up in most places. We need to look for a way down to that flat space that follows the natural contours without getting too steep."
Nick rubbed his hand over his chin. "It's as good an idea as any."
Lamont said, "Selena's right. Moses would have had a hard time climbing up the route we took."
"What about over there between those two tall rocks?" Ronnie said.
They walked over to the place Ronnie had pointed out. The rocks marked a natural path, a dry streambed carved out by centuries of weather. It wasn't the kind of trail you found in a park, more like a suggestion of a way through the boulders. Someone had carved a picture of the sun on one of the rocks. Another picture of an Ibex was etched into a rock farther down the side of the mountain.
"Looks like somebody used it to climb up here," Lamont said.
"Right," Nick said. "We'll go slow. Keep your eyes peeled for one of those eyes or anything else that stands out."
They started down the rocky slope. About ten minutes later, Ronnie stopped.
"I need to take a leak. Go ahead, I'll catch up."
He walked a little way off the trail into a grouping of boulders, waiting for the others to get ahead. He unzipped and began to relieve himself.
Then he saw the eye, carved in one of the rocks. Chiseled into the rock beneath the drawing were Hebrew letters.
He zipped up and called to the others. "Hey guys, I found something."
A minute later they all stood beside him.
"That eye is the same as the one in Beersheba," Nick said.
"What do the letters say?" Lamont asked.
"It's biblical Hebrew," Friedman said. "It says 'water and cave.'"
"This has to be the next marker," Nick said. "But what does it mean? Water and cave could mean anything."
Friedman took a picture of the letters on the rock.
"I think I might know," Rivka said. "There's a place that's famous in the story of David and how he became king."
"Go on," Nick said.
"It's in the book of Samuel," she said. "King Saul believes David wants to kill him and pursues him to a place of water and caves."
"Ein Gedi!" Friedman said.
"That's right," Rivka said. "This marker has to refer to Ein Gedi. I can't think what else it would mean, especially since we're on the trail of David's tomb. It's an oasis near the Dead Sea. It's famous, quite beautiful. It's been set aside as a natural preserve. There are springs, waterfalls, and many caves. People have been going to the springs for thousands of years. The animals come there to drink in the summer. Ein Gedi means 'the spring of the goat.'"
Nick said, "If it's so famous, wouldn't anything hidden there have been found a long time ago?"
"Not necessarily. There are a lot of caves, and some of them aren't easily accessible. It would take years to explore them all. There are several archaeological sites in the area that take up priorities."
Friedman said, "The region is mountainous. There's a lot of limestone, ideal for cave formation."
"So now we're going to go find a cave no one else has noticed, in an area with lots of caves?" Lamont asked.
"You have a better idea?" Rivka said.
Ronnie looked out over the desert. He pointed at plumes of dust rising into the air from approaching vehicles.
"Looks like the tourists are starting to show up."
They headed down the mountain.
CHAPTER 20
They'd gotten about three quarters of the way down the side of the mountain when Nick suddenly stopped. He reached up and began scratching his ear.
"Shit," Lamont said. "You're messing with your ear."
Ronnie and Selena looked at each other.
"What are you talking about?" Friedman asked.
"It's hard to explain," Selena said. "Sometimes when we're about to run into serious trouble, his ear starts to itch."
"That's ridiculous," Friedman said.
"I'm afraid it isn't," Selena said.
"Might be nothing," Nick said, tugging on his scarred ear, "but it feels like trouble."
"Gideon and Miriam are down there," Rivka said. "Don't you think we would've heard something, if there was trouble?"
"What could possibly be wrong?" Friedman asked. "We're in the middle of the desert. There's nobody around for miles."
"Except for those vehicles we saw," Lamont said.
"They're probably tourists."
"We don't know that," Nick said. "Doctor Friedman, I want you to stay here while we go the rest of the way, until we know it's safe."
"Poppycock," Friedman said.
"What? Nobody says that anymore."
"I will not stay here while you indulge some fantasy about your ear. I'm tired and I want to sit down and get out of the sun. I'm going down with or without you."
Nick looked at Friedman's stubborn expression and decided it wasn't worth the trouble to argue. He took out his pistol and checked to see if there was a round in the chamber. The others did the same. Friedman looked at the guns and shook his head.
"You're serious about this, aren't you?"
"Better safe than sorry, Doc," Lamont said.
"Since you insist on coming with us, stay well to the rear," Nick said.
"I protest."
"Protest all you like, but you stay in the rear. You understand?" Nick's voice was hard.
"Do as he asks, Alan," Selena said.
"You too?"
"He's trying to protect you. Do as he says."
Friedman took one look at Nick and nodded.
"Good," Nick said.
"How you want to play it?" Ronnie asked.
"If I wanted to make trouble, I'd watch our vehicles and wait for us to show up. They're out in the open. Once we leave the rocks, we're exposed. The way this trail is going, I figure we'll come out about fifty yards to the right of the cars. We started up to the left of them. If somebody's there, they'll be watching for us to come back the same way."
"Maybe," Selena said.
"If I'm wrong about this, I'll buy everybody dinner and apologize. In the meantime, we go slow until we can see who's down there."
"I'm going to enjoy that dinner," Friedman said.
They climbed down toward the desert floor, following the bed of the ancient stream. Tall rocks on either side prevented them from seeing the cars, but it worked both ways. Anyone at the cars wouldn't see them coming.
They reached a point near the bottom of the slope where the old streambed petered out and the cover of the boulders began to give way. Nick slipped behind the last of the covering rocks and looked through his binoculars. The Israeli jeeps were about forty yards away. Two new vehicles were parked nearby, the cars they'd seen approaching from higher up. He couldn't see anyone in them.
Gideon was in the front seat of one of the vehicles. It looked like he was asleep, with his hat pulled down over his eyes. Miriam stood outside, resting her hand on the fender and looking away from them, toward the spot where they'd started up the mountain hours before.
"What do you see?" Selena asked.
"Two new vehicles, empty by the look of them. Looks like Gideon is sleeping in one of ours. Miriam is standing outside. She seems to be waiting for us to come back."
"I told you so," Friedman said. "I've had enough of this."