The Imam of the Cave

by J Randall

  “You go to the left and I’ll go right. When we hear the rustling sound between us, I’ll get his attention and you take him down.”

  “I’m not going to risk a shot,” said Lawrence. “When you hear me jump on him, you jump in.”

  “Okay, walk fifteen paces in that direction.” Martin positioned his colleague in the direction he wanted him to go.

  Bill followed the rustling, pausing when it stopped, continuing when it began again. He was within ten feet of the man, who was hidden by total blackness, when Martin yelled, “Over here!”

  The cleric sprayed in the direction of the sound, incapacitating Martin immediately. Hearing footsteps at his back, he whirled around and triggered the canister, but nothing happened. No hiss. No spray.

  Bill had assumed that the man who yelled was in danger and rushed forward to help at the same time as Lawrence ran toward Martin’s voice to subdue their pursuer.

  Bill and Lawrence and their assailant were all stunned as they collided in the middle of the cavern.

  The two men from UNSCOM were disoriented as they rose from the floor of the cave, but not the cleric.

  With the empty canister, he rushed toward the rear of the cavern.

  Frenchy staggered up from the floor and headed in the same direction he had been going before being sprayed with the agent. He no longer had the shotgun, but held a 9mm pistol he had withdrawn from his hip holster.

  He wasn’t thinking clearly, but something drew him quickly toward the back of the cave.

  Once at the rear of the cave, the cleric tore off his gas mask.

  “Light a lamp!” he yelled to the masons.

  The masons all scurried to comply.

  With light now, he scrambled to the detonator.

  CHAPTER 29: SEALING THE CAVE

  When Frenchy saw the diminutive, bearded, dark-robed man in the glow of the light, he didn’t think and could not have explained later why he acted, but he instantly aimed and shot the man in his tracks.

  The cleric would have lunged the final distance to the detonator but the jarring impact knocked him down and the reverberation in the cavern caused everyone to wince.

  The masons, seeing the blood flying from the body of their cleric, dropped to the floor, expecting to die at any moment.

  Bill and Lawrence rushed to the back of the cave, where the lamp’s glow displayed a macabre scene. Five men lay on the ground, one of them with his blood flowing onto the cave’s ancient floor, some sort of triggering mechanism inches from his hand.

  The masons cowered fearfully, fully expecting to suffer the same fate as the cleric who guided them.

  “Lawrence, get the inspectors!” said Bill. “I don’t want them to rush in shooting after hearing that shot. Leave one as a guard and see what else is in the cave.”

  Bill went and knelt down by the bleeding man, who already seemed close to death. “Are you alone?” he asked in Arabic.

  Coughing blood, the cleric replied, “Yes. Did I destroy the cave?”

  Bill caught on quickly and spoke reassuringly, “You did. Where are your brothers?”

  The cleric struggled to speak. “They have gone to the…Cave of Muhammad…to await the return of Al Mahdi.”

  “Where’s the cave of Muhammad?”

  “You know—why do you test me?” the cleric answered, his voice becoming weaker. “It’s where the Qur’an was…revealed to him.”

  Bill lowered his head closer to the man’s mouth.

  “My brother will…fulfill the Prophecy…of the Medallion,” the cleric whispered, then slumped in death.

  Bill was mystified by the man’s last words and wondered whether he had heard them correctly.

  He noticed that the man’s hand was clutching something next to his chest. Prying the fingers loose revealed a small book, which Bill automatically picked up and dropped into his shirt pocket.

  He disconnected the wires from the detonation device and returned to the men sprawled on the floor under Frenchy’s scrutiny.

  “Where are the others?” Bill demanded in Arabic. He noticed the men’s soiled robes and their grimy hands and faces.

  The senior mason raised his head off the floor and faced Bill. “There are no others. We are alone.”

  Peering down at the prone men, Bill continued his questioning. “You can stand up. No one will harm you. The man who was shot is dead.”

  No one moved and the news of the cleric’s death caused the men on the ground to cry out in grief, “Why did you kill our cleric?”

  One of the other masons said, “He was doing no more than what he was told to do. It was the will of Allah. We are all doing what we were told.”

  Kalid glared at the man for speaking.

  “What were you told?”

  “To seal the cave,” Kalid answered, pointing to the half-finished structure.

  Bill hadn’t noticed the construction in the dim light of the lamp. He could see there was another room, but its darkness revealed little. “Who ordered you to build it?”

  The answer came more slowly this time. “The Imam of the Cave.”

  “The imam of the cave? Who’s he and why did he want you to build a wall?”

  Kalid said nothing.

  Bill grabbed the man’s robe. “Who is he?”

  “Our religious leader.”

  “Why’s he called the imam of the cave?”

  “They say he found this cave and the message from Muhammad.”

  Bill was becoming impatient. “What message?”

  Kahlid was silent.

  “Come on, come on! Why are you building this wall?”

  “This cave is false. We were asked to build a wall and close the great cavern.”

  Bill’s head was spinning from the convoluted story he was hearing.

  He eyed to Frenchy. “Pierre, are you all right?”

  “I’m okay now, Bill. The nerve agent kicked my ass.”

  “Keep your eyes on these guys. I need to organize the search or we’ll be here for hours. Keep them on their butts, I don’t want them going anywhere.”

  Bill’s stride was purposeful and carried him to the front of the cave, where he met his men carrying flashlights.

  He sent Walter and Pat to search outside the cave for a grave. He organized Lawrence, Phil Barber, Kelly Minton and himself into a skirmish line at the cave’s entrance and they paced slowly toward the rear of the cavern.

  As they encountered the spots where the nerve agent had been sprayed, they experienced varying degrees of minor discomfort.

  Near the middle of the cavern they found Martin, who had been overlooked in the chaos.

  Martin was still groggy. “What happened?”

  Bill said, “Take him to the front of the cave. The fresh air will help clear his brain.”

  He and the other men continued their sweep. Reaching a far corner of the chamber, Kelly stumbled across a small truck. “I think I’ve found their transportation!”

  They found additional lamps and the tools the workers had used to construct the wall, but nothing else.

  They climbed over the partially constructed wall to investigate the second chamber.

  “Jesus!” Phil exclaimed, “look at the size of this place.”

  “I think we’ve found Derrick’s nuke and the boat,” said Bill.

  As they surveyed the cavern, they found the explosives.

  It answered the question Bill had asked himself when he found the firing mechanism next to the dead cleric.

  Satisfied they’d seen everything, the men went back to the front chamber.

  One of the men who were searching outside rushed back in. “Bill, we found Billy.”

  Moving quickly, Walter led Bill outside to a small mound thirty yards from the entrance, where he and Pat had found the grave and scooped its sand away with their bare hands and where Pat now knelt and stared reverently at the body of Billy Dumont.

  “My God,” Bill moaned. “See if you can find some canvas or cloth and wrap his bo
dy—he’s going back with us.”

  Returning to the sun-protected chamber, Bill glared at the masons sitting on the ground before him. They were a ragged group of dejected looking men, holding hands like school children.

  Bill pointed to the dead cleric. “Did you know that man was going to blow up the cave?”

  Kalid nodded.

  “He was under orders?”

  “Yes. If we couldn’t seal the cave, he was to destroy it.”

  “But why? When the others left, they could have taken the vehicles in the other room. Why leave them here and hide them behind a wall?”

  “They were too heavy to go on the next journey.”

  “When did the others leave?”

  “Two days ago.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “To the Cave of Muhammad…but they didn’t tell us where it was.”

  Kalid raised his palms to Bill in supplication. “You must let us finish our task—it is for the Imam.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that. I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but you’ll have to leave the cave when we go.”

  “You have killed the cleric who guided us. We have nothing to live for now. We would be better off if you would kill us.”

  Bill thought long and hard about the options. They couldn’t transport the nuke or boat out of the cave and he was unwilling to leave them for the Republican Guard to find. The helicopter wasn’t capable of carrying more passengers and he wouldn’t leave a man behind to guard the workers.

  The mason offered him an alternative. “We can’t go back without completing our task and if we complete it as the Imam instructed we won’t go back. Let us do as the Imam bade us.”

  Kalid’s eyes teared as he pleaded.

  Bill couldn’t fathom the willingness of the men to die, but he understood their devotion to doing what they believed in. “Can you tell the time from a watch?”

  “I may be a mason, but I have been to school,” he said dryly.

  Bill smiled briefly. “I’ll connect the firing mechanism and give you a watch. You must wait fifteen minutes before you set off the explosives.”

  Bill added, “If you don’t, my friends will return and make you wish you were honorable men.”

  “Thank you,” the mason replied and lowered his head.

  Bill ordered the remaining inspectors to leave the cave. He asked Frenchy to contact the helicopter for an immediate pickup, then waited until he was alone with the workers.

  He connected the device to the wires and laid it on the ground.

  Moving to the masons, he unbuckled his watch and adjusted the time to twelve. He handed it to their spokesman. “I hope you find what you’re seeking. Someday perhaps we shall meet again and on that day I’ll thank you.”

  Bill looked toward the entrance and with hardly any trepidation walked away as calmly as possible.

  Entering the sunlight at the cave’s entrance, he heard the mason shout, “Go with the blessing of Allah.”

  They were the last words he would ever hear the mason speak.

  All of the inspectors were aboard the helicopter with the body of Billy Dumont as it lifted into the desert sky above the cave. It was hovering in the early morning sun when the sound and dust from the explosion erupted beneath them.

  The hill they had observed from the air when they arrived was now a recession in the landscape.

  The helicopter banked east and headed for the abandoned airfield.

  CHAPTER 30: ABANDONED AIRFIELD

  THE CAMOUFLAGE NET blanketed the Land Rover, making it virtually invisible. Gloria and the inspectors had checked that the fuel bladder was still there, then secured the buildings and waited.

  Bob followed Gloria into the building where she and Nigel had rested days earlier. They sat down against the wall next to the door. Pedro, Walker and Stacey were in the next building.

  She observed Bob swat his hand in the air. “It isn’t a bee or a mosquito.”

  “What?”

  Gloria got up and searched the sky through the paneless window. “It isn’t a bee or a mosquito...It’s a plane.”

  Bob stood up and stepped next to her. “How do you know?”

  “Four days ago I heard it and thought the same thing you did. It wasn’t a bee then and it isn’t one now. Look toward those hills and you’ll see it.” Gloria pointed to where the plane was moving in their direction.

  “Yeah, I see it. I better go tell the others.” Bob headed toward the door.

  “Good idea, Bob. Bring them back with you. We don’t want anyone wandering around if the plane lands.”

  The team watched the plane grow in size as it neared the airfield. They weighed their options and decided that if it landed for fuel, as Gloria suspected, they would apprehend the occupants and hold them until the helicopter arrived. Gloria feared that if they let them refuel and take off, they would spot Bill’s team and alert the Republican Guard.

  The Cessna landed on the dusty airstrip and taxied toward the hidden fuel bladder.

  Gloria recognized the plane as the same one that Nigel and she had observed—it had the same identification number on the tail. The plane stopped, its engine shut down and two men got out.

  The Iraqis cleaned the debris from the door and the smaller man jumped into the hole where the bladder was hidden.

  The inspectors sprinted to the plane.

  Gloria spoke for the group. “Stop what you’re doing and put your hands up!”

  The pilot was leaning into the plane when he heard a female voice speaking to him in Arabic. He raised his arms and pivoted slowly to face the woman.

  Gloria, Bob and Walker guarded the pilot as Pedro and Stacey edged up to the fuel pit.

  Stacey aimed his M16 at the man in the hole. “Okay Baghdaddy, out with you.”

  Ahmad didn’t understand a word that was spoken, but didn’t need a translator to explain the rifle pointed at him as he climbed out. Both men were herded back to the buildings while Pedro and Stacey checked the plane.

  “I am Senior Lieutenant Zahedi of the Iraqi Air Force. How may I help you?” asked the pilot in English.

  “You speak English?” said Bob.

  “So do three hundred and thirty million other people.”

  “Yeah, but what I meant was, you’re Iraqi.”

  “Very perceptive of you. Is it so strange for an Iraqi to speak English? The lovely lady with you speaks Arabic, but she is English.”

  Gloria wanted to stop the verbal confrontation before Bob realized he was being insulted and did something drastic.

  She spoke to the pilot in Arabic, “Please don’t antagonize my big friend. He’s slow to anger but is unforgiving when he feels insulted.”

  “Thank you. Of course, you’re right. I’m used to dealing with the Republican Guard.” He bowed with his arms extended palms up.

  The inspectors offered the two Iraqis rations and water, which they sat quietly to eat and drink.

  Gloria was amazed at how soon the men forgot that the pilot spoke English, but did no more than shake her head in disbelief when their lapse broke operational security procedures. She would tell Bill what the pilot had overheard.

  The sound of the helicopter’s rotors reverberated across the airfield as it landed in front of the Iraqi plane, producing a mini sandstorm.

  As Bill stepped down from the helicopter, Bob was the first to speak. “We got two Iraqis, Boss. They’re in the building.”

  Bill saw Gloria roll her eyes and knew that she needed to talk to him, preferably alone. “Great, Robert. Why don’t you and Walker make sure they’re okay? I’ll be in after we get the fuel moving.”

  “Sure thing, Bill.”

  Gloria briefed Bill as the crew chief and pilots began refueling the helicopter. She gave him the facts and summarized what she believed the Iraqi had gleaned from the men’s loose tongues. She added her suspicion that the pilot didn’t seem to be a fan of the Republican Guard.

  Bill went into the building wher
e the Iraqis were detained and approached them with extended hand. “Senior Lieutenant Zahedi, I’m William Holden from the United Nations Monitoring and Verification Center in Baghdad. I want to apologize if any of my inspectors inconvenienced you or your colleague in any way.”

  The pilot was taken aback by the man’s directness and his apology, but regained his composure quickly. “Thank you, Mr. Holden, I appreciate your considerateness. The lady was most gracious in providing us food and water, but I must protest at being held here.”

  “I’m afraid that’s entirely my fault, sir. I ordered my people to meet me at this abandoned airfield, not knowing that the Iraqi government had made it operational. I would guess that your government inadvertently forgot to notify UNSCOM.”

  “No, you are quite right. It’s an abandoned airfield. Flying an observation plane, I landed when I noticed activity on the ground. I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but may I ask what you’re doing in the Syrian Deser t?”

  “Normally I would be inclined not to answer, but seeing how it pertains to both our interests, I don’t see a problem. We’ve heard rumors about a renegade faction in Iraq creating mischief for both the UN and the Iraqi regime. Naturally, if we could have confirmed it, your government would be the first notified.”

  Bill made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Unfortunately, it appears that we have arrived too late. Our sources and observations indicate that the group left Iraq under the cover of night two days ago. We’re in the dark as to their destination, but the UN is anxious to find them.”

  The pilot asked, “Do you have any idea who they might be?”

  When Bill saw his own pilot outside the window indicating that the helicopter was fueled, he answered, “I’m afraid not. We don’t know what their nationality is, but we suspect that they’re a splinter group from one of the extremist organizations operating in the Middle East.”

  Bill paused for a moment. “Again, Lieutenant, let me apologize for any misunderstanding. My people had no authority to delay you and your colleague in performing your duties.”

  “Are we free to go?” asked the pilot.

  “Of course! If there’s anything we can do to assist you—perhaps notify your superior about the incident—just ask. I’m afraid we must be getting back to Baghdad. Chasing phantoms in the Syrian Desert isn’t something I enjoy.”