Solomon's Gold

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Solomon's Gold Page 8

by Alex Lukeman


  He stepped out from behind the rocks and started toward Miriam.

  "Wait..." Nick said.

  "Miriam," Friedman called. "Over here."

  She turned to look.

  Rivka started to follow Friedman.

  Nick grabbed her arm. "Wait. Something doesn't feel right. Why isn't Gideon getting out of the car?"

  He looked again with the binoculars. Something red stained the side of the vehicle under the closed door by Gideon's seat.

  "Friedman," Nick yelled. "Get back here!"

  Friedman waved a hand dismissively and continued walking toward Miriam. She ducked down behind the car. Friedman stopped, confused.

  Bursts of automatic rifle fire came from behind the two new vehicles. Nick watched Friedman jerk spasmodically as the bullets hit him, spinning him around, then dropping him to the hard desert floor.

  Bullets ricocheted off the rock by Nick's head. Bits of stone stung his cheek. He scrambled on all fours back to the others and touched his cheek where a fragment of stone had cut him. His finger came away bloody.

  The firing stopped.

  "How many?" Ronnie asked.

  "Not sure," Nick said. "Three or four. Plus Miriam."

  "Miriam?" Selena said.

  "She ducked before the others started firing. She knew they were there."

  "What about Gideon?" Rivka asked.

  "Dead. There's blood leaking out of his car."

  She said something that sounded like someone coughing up a glob of spit.

  "What?"

  "Shit. I said shit."

  "Man, I've got to learn to swear like that," Lamont said.

  Another burst of fire sent chips of stone flying over their heads.

  Nick reached around the rock he was using for cover and sent three rounds toward the cars.

  "You can learn Hebrew another time," Nick said.

  "I wish we had a couple of those Uzis," Rivka said.

  "Yeah, me too." He looked at Selena.

  "I know, I know, be careful," she said.

  They began moving sideways through the rock strewn ground, toward the parked vehicles, crawling on all fours. The rocks bit through Nick's clothes. The ground was rugged, the boulders low, with gaps in between. They weren't going to get close to the cars without exposing themselves.

  They were within twenty yards of the vehicles when they ran out of cover.

  Nick crawled sideways to a large, flat boulder shaped like a table. From where he lay, he could see under the edge of the rock to where the cars were parked.

  Ronnie crawled up next to him.

  "I can see legs under the cars," Nick said. "At least three men. Plus Miriam's there somewhere."

  "You think she's in on it, huh?"

  "Has to be. If she wasn't, she'd be dead like Gideon or trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

  "Too bad. I think Lamont had his eye on her."

  "He always did have lousy taste in women," Nick said.

  "I'm thinking about those cans of gas on the side of Gideon's Jeep," Ronnie said.

  "What about them?"

  "We could put a few rounds in them, set them off."

  "That stuff only works in the movies."

  Ronnie reached into his pocket and took out a magazine with green-tipped rounds in it and showed it to Nick.

  "Not with these babies. It's a little something I made up back in Virginia."

  He took the magazine in his pistol out, put it in his pocket, and loaded the other.

  Nick said, "You made up incendiaries for your Sig?"

  Ronnie racked the slide and chambered a round. "Yup. A trick I learned from Gunny Stevens, way back when."

  "Stevens? I knew a Gunny Stevens in Iraq. Short guy? Built like a fireplug?"

  "That's him," Ronnie said. "Last I heard, he'd retired and was living in Tennessee."

  "He's got to be about a hundred years old," Nick said. "We get out of this, we ought to go see him and say hello."

  "I was thinking we lay down covering fire, I put a few rounds into that gas can. When it blows, we charge them."

  Lamont crawled over to them.

  "What are you guys talking about?"

  "Ronnie's got an idea."

  Lamont listened and nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

  "Lamont, go back and tell Rivka and Selena what we're thinking. When you hear me start shooting, open up on those cars."

  "Give me five minutes." He crawled away.

  Nick and Ronnie crouched behind the boulder. Five minutes passed.

  "Ready, amigo?"

  "I kind of liked Gideon," Ronnie said. "Yeah, I'm ready."

  Nick began firing, trying to send bullets under the cars, hoping to hit someone in a leg. Behind him, the others opened up. Bullets struck the cars, shattering windows and punching holes in the sheet-metal.

  Ronnie fired four quick shots at the gas cans mounted on the side of the Israeli Jeep. The two cans exploded in a brilliant flash of crimson and orange. The main gas tank went a second later. The Israeli Jeep blew apart in a violent explosion of metal and flame. A black cloud of smoke ballooned into the air from the shattered vehicle.

  Nick was up and running toward the cars, firing as he went. The slide on his pistol locked open. He dropped the empty magazine and slammed in a fresh one on the run, racking the slide and firing again. From somewhere he heard himself yelling at the top of his lungs as he charged the cars. Bullets kicked up sand around his feet. He was vaguely aware of the others firing behind him.

  Then he was at the first of the cars. He ran around the back of the car and saw a man rolling about on the ground, moaning and clutching his leg. A second man crouched beside the engine compartment. He turned as Nick shot him.

  Nick dove to the ground as bullets shattered the windshield next to him. Two more men were firing from behind the second vehicle, parked ahead. One went down as someone's bullets found him. Nick shot the other. The wounded man on the ground lifted his gun. Nick killed him.

  The shooting stopped. The only sound was the crackle of flames from the burning Jeep.

  Nick stood and holstered his pistol. His hand began shaking.

  CHAPTER 21

  Rivka called Ari Herzog and told him what had happened. An hour later, two UH 60 Blackhawk helicopters landed nearby. Herzog got out of the first one and walked over to the group. He looked at the smoldering wreckage, the bullet scarred vehicles, the bodies on the ground, and shook his head. Gideon's charred remains were visible in the front seat of the burned out vehicle.

  "Trouble always seems to follow you, Nick."

  "Friedman's assistant wasn't what she appeared to be," Nick said.

  He pointed at Miriam's body. She was sprawled on the ground, one leg crumpled under her, a neat hole in the middle of her forehead. A machine pistol had slipped from her fingers. The ground underneath her head was soaked with blood.

  "Whoever she was, she was working with the assholes that tried to ambush us. She must have been feeding them information all along."

  "I wonder why they decided to attack you now?"

  Nick shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they figured they didn't need us anymore. Chances are they know as much as we do about the scroll."

  "What have you discovered so far?"

  "We found the next marker. We think it means we should go to Ein Gedi."

  Herzog looked at the Israeli vehicles. One had been destroyed. The other two were pocked with stray bullet holes in the metalwork. One of them had a shattered windshield. The paint on both was scarred from the heat of the flames. Two of the tires were flat. The cars that had brought the attackers were riddled with holes. Most of the windows were gone. Fluids were leaking onto the ground under them.

  "I think you need some new cars," Herzog said. "We don't want you frightening the tourists at Ein Gedi."

  "How are we going to get there?"

  "We'll give you a ride," Herzog said. "We have a safe house there, quiet, away from the crowds. We don't use it much, but it happ
ens to have a heliport. I'll arrange it. You can stay there and new vehicles will be provided."

  "Thanks, Ari. "

  "This is becoming a controversial operation," Herzog said. "Let's hope you turn something up soon. My superiors are becoming restless. They don't like alarming the tourists with things like this."

  He swept his arm around in a gesture that included the bodies and the wrecked vehicles.

  "We've had to block the road in here until we get this mess cleaned up. I've already talked to the Ministry of Tourism. They are unhappy. Please, Nick, no more shooting if you can help it."

  "I'll do my best," Nick said. "I need to call Harker and tell her what's happened."

  "We'll leave when you're ready," Herzog said.

  Nick punched in the code for Elizabeth and waited for the satellite link to pick up.

  "About time, Nick. I can see your location on my monitor. What's happening?"

  "We ran into trouble. Somebody tried to take us out. Friedman is dead and so is one of the Israeli agents. Friedman's assistant was in on it. She's dead too."

  "Who came after you?"

  "We don't know yet. Ari Herzog is here with a couple of choppers. He'll get his forensics team on the bodies. Maybe he'll turn something up."

  "The Israelis are not going to be happy about this," Harker said. "What's the status of your search?"

  "We found the second marker. We're going to Ein Gedi as soon as I finish talking with you. It's a tourist spot on the Dead Sea. Herzog says they have a safe house there. We'll use that as a base while we follow up. We're looking for a cave."

  "I'd better inform President Corrigan," Harker said. "The Israelis are sure to have something to say to him."

  "Look at it this way, Director. He might as well get used to it."

  "I imagine he'd rather not get used to it, considering that it's only his first week in office."

  "Friedman's assistant had us all fooled. We should take a close look at her. She might have made a mistake that will lead us to whoever came after us."

  "I'll get Homeland Security on it," Harker said.

  "If you do that, word's going to get out about this little expedition. Can we keep it in-house?"

  "You have a point, Nick. I could send Steph. I'll think about it."

  Herzog was standing by one of the choppers. He waved at Nick and then pointed at his watch.

  "Director, I have to go. I'll keep you posted."

  "Do that," Harker said. "Don't create any more problems."

  Nick started to protest that he hadn't created the problems, but Harker was gone.

  CHAPTER 22

  The Sikorsky Blackhawk had large windows on the side, giving Nick a good view of the terrain passing below. The pilot angled toward the Dead Sea and the coast, then headed north toward Ein Gedi. They passed over a flat topped mountain with ruins on it.

  "That's Masada down there," Rivka said.

  "Masada?" Ronnie said. "The fortress?"

  "That's right."

  "I've heard of Masada," Lamont said.

  "It's famous," Rivka said. "Nine hundred and sixty rebels held off fifteen thousand Roman soldiers for three years, during the first Roman war. No one had ever stopped the Roman legions like that before."

  Looking down at the mountain, Nick could see why the Romans might have had trouble. Masada resembled a ship, a flat topped aircraft carrier made out of solid rock. Sheer cliff walls rose hundreds of feet straight up from the desert floor. A narrow path barely wide enough for one person snaked its way to the top.

  A long siege ramp built by the Romans was still in place on one side. The remains of a palace built by King Herod covered the top. More ruins were visible on two step-like projections jutting out on one end.

  "Must've been a hell of a battle," Lamont said.

  "In the end it wasn't," Rivka said. "When the Romans finally got to the top they found everyone dead. The defenders killed themselves rather than risk capture and surrender, at least that's the story. No one's quite sure what happened. Jewish teaching doesn't condone suicide. One story is that they picked lots and killed each other until there was only one man left, who then killed himself."

  "Tough men," Selena said.

  "It's controversial now," Rivka said.

  "Why?" Nick asked.

  "Many Israelis see it as a symbol of courage and resistance, like I do. But others see it as a symbol of stubbornness and a refusal to compromise."

  Lamont shook his head.

  "How the hell do you compromise with people who are trying to conquer your country? It was two thousand years ago. What's the point of trying to change history? You can't judge the past by the present."

  "That's what historical revisionists want to do," Nick said. "They can't change what happened, but they can try to change the way people think about it. It's a classic propaganda tool. They manipulate history to advance their agenda, whatever it is. After a while they only tell people the interpretation they want them to know and nobody knows the difference. They don't care about the truth. What matters is changing the interpretation to influence the present."

  "That's really cynical," Selena said.

  "I think it's realistic. You can see it happening at home. Look what Rivka just said about Masada. It's a national symbol, but what it means is being changed from a story of heroism to a story of misguided resistance to authority. It's subtle, but revisionism is a way to undermine belief in a strong nation. No country gets it right all the time. If you start condemning your history, you can't believe in your country. If you don't believe in it, you won't fight for it."

  "I hadn't thought of it that way," Rivka said.

  They continued north to Ein Gedi and turned inland, settling a few minutes later on a concrete heliport in the safe house compound.

  The house was a sprawling, ranch-style home located on the edge of the desert, away from the crowded tourist areas. They were met by two Shin Bet agents who introduced themselves as Falk and Alitza.

  Falk was a small man, shorter than Ronnie's five foot ten. He wore a blue short sleeved shirt and tan trousers. He didn't look large, but he looked tough. Corded muscles stood out on his arms. He carried a large pistol at his waist.

  Alitza was big boned and muscled, about Selena's height. Her hair was jet black and cut short. She was dressed in jeans and a tan shirt and had the kind of face that could disappear in a crowd. She didn't seem happy to see them. Falk's expression was studiously neutral.

  After the introductions, Falk said, "Follow me. It's a big house with a lot of rooms."

  "I'm going to talk with Alitza," Rivka said. "I'll join you in a few minutes."

  Falk led everyone else into the house. It was furnished comfortably. A few nondescript pictures hung on the walls. A large living room featured a TV, a long couch and several chairs. A gas fireplace stood in one corner to take the chill off winter nights in the desert.

  "Your rooms are this way," Falk said.

  They went down a hall leading to the back of the house. Falk pointed down a hallway that ended in a T.

  "Your rooms are on either side of that T. The kitchen is that way. There's food and water if you want something. Please do not leave the immediate area around the house."

  Nick looked at him. "You mind telling me what's going on?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "It's pretty obvious you and Alitza don't approve of us."

  Falk shrugged. "It's not personal. Gideon was a friend of ours."

  "We didn't kill him."

  "No, but if he hadn't been with you he'd still be alive."

  "How long do you intend to restrict us to the house?"

  "I understand that vehicles will be brought to you, but until then I must ask you to limit your movements."

  After he left, they picked out bedrooms. Selena and Nick took one that looked out over a patch of lawn and a garden filled with flowers.

  Selena said, "I think we're wearing out our welcome around here."

  "You
can't blame them," Nick said. "They're not in charge and we're foreigners, except for Rivka."

  "I'm sorry Gideon's dead, but he was a trained agent. He knew what could happen. Alan was a different story. I got him into this, and now he's gone."

  "He should've listened to me. If he had, he'd still be alive."

  "Who do you think came after us?"

  "I don't know. Someone from the Middle East, judging from the way they looked."

  "Miriam sounded like she came from Brooklyn," Selena said.

  "She fooled me," Nick said.

  "She fooled everyone. Why do you think she was working at the Museum?"

  "That's something we're going to have to find out."

  CHAPTER 23

  After hearing what Nick had to say about Miriam, Elizabeth decided to send Stephanie to New York. She thought Nick was right. If Homeland Security or any of the other official agencies got involved, it wouldn't be long before someone leaked the story. There was plenty of time to inform them, when it couldn't be avoided. Technically, she should call in the FBI, since Miriam had turned out to be a terrorist living in New York. But the FBI would want Elizabeth to stay out of their way.

  Miriam's cronies had tried to kill her team. Elizabeth took things like that personally.

  She touched a button on her intercom.

  "Steph, could you come up for a moment?"

  "Be right there."

  A minute later Stephanie came into Elizabeth's office and sat down across from her.

  "What's up?"

  Elizabeth told her what had happened in Israel.

  "Just once, I'd like to see them go somewhere and come back without somebody trying to kill them," Steph said.

  "This one was supposed to be easy," Elizabeth said. "I suppose I should've known better. Anyway, I want you to go to New York."

  "Okay. Why?"

  "I want you to check out Miriam's apartment. I don't think you'll find anything of interest where she worked, at the Museum. If I were her, I wouldn't have left anything incriminating around my workplace. But there may be something in her apartment. At the moment we don't know anything, except that she was part of an organized team."

  "Do you think it was an operation by one of the governments over there? Iran, Saudi Arabia? One of those?"

 

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