A Covenant of Thieves

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A Covenant of Thieves Page 55

by Christian Velguth


  “Wait!” Rick shouted, hurting his throat to be heard above the wind. “Alright! Just leave him alone!”

  At another gesture the man resecured Kai’s chair and closed the ramp before it had fully opened. Rick glared at him, until K’ebero reached down and took his chin. She turned his face up towards hers. This close, he could see that one of her cheeks had been damaged, the bone broken. It gave her face an odd sunken look, made her appear more corpse-like. There seemed to be a heat pouring from her hollow eyes.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  Twenty-Nine

  Jabal Musa

  South Sinai Governorate, Egypt

  Jabal Musa was just one peak of many in the craggy range that covered the southern tip of the Sinai Peninsula like old scar tissue. It was surrounded on all sides by a torturous landscape of slopes and valleys, dried river beds and lifeless rock walls. The nearest settlements were the small city of St. Catherine, less than a mile northwest, and the monastery complex that shared the city’s name, sitting in a broad valley on the northern side of the mountain. To the south, nothing but desert that stretched for hundreds of miles until it met the waters of the Red Sea.

  The flight from Gondar to Cairo would have taken just shy of seven hours. From Gondar to Jabal Musa, it was almost two hours shorter. They arrived mid-day, with plenty of fuel to spare.

  “Set down on the south side of the mountain,” K’ebero told her pilot. “Away from prying eyes.”

  Her voice shook Rick from the daze he had settled into throughout the flight. He, Kai, Estelle, and Booker had been confined to their seats, watched over in silence by the armed soldiers masquerading as Radical Dynamics employees. What had happened to the real flight crew, K’ebero didn’t say, though Rick could guess. They must have been ambushed on the tarmac. K’ebero had known exactly where and when to find them. Informed by her “angel.”

  Ibis. It had to be; Rick could think of no one else who would be aware of their movements. Of course, that only set the goalposts back an inch. How had Ibis known to find them at the airport so early in the morning?

  The VTOL lurched slightly as they began their descent. Wrists bound by zip ties, Rick twisted around to peer through the nearest window. The Sinai Desert was a red waste below them, contrasted here and there by the dark smear of volcanic rock formations. He picked out Jabal Musa at once, almost directly below them. They had approached from the south and were low enough that he couldn’t see over its peak. Likely nobody at either St. Catherine city or the monastery would be aware of their arrival. Even if they were, what could a bunch of monks and local farmers do about it?

  They landed in a narrow valley a thousand feet south of the mountain’s slope, in a gravelly stretch of nothing that had once been a river, back when any water at all had flowed through the Sinai Desert. Even with the mobility of the VTOL, it was a shaky landing; thermals buffeted the aircraft from all sides as they descended precariously into the valley. Rick almost hoped the pilot would lose control and crash, if only to give him some sort of opening. But when they touched down, it was no worse than a solid bump.

  One of K’ebero’s men lowered the cargo ramp immediately, and Rick and the others were forced from their seats and made to march down it. Kai was wheeled out by one of the soldiers, a pistol kept pressed against the back of his head. It wasn’t that Kai presented any sort of threat; the gesture was all for Rick’s benefit.

  A hot, dry wind assaulted them as they stepped outside. Rick squinted, raising his bound hands to shield his eyes. There was nothing around but a desolate landscape, the rocks washed out by a sun that seemed preternaturally bright and insufferably hot. Already Rick’s mouth felt dry, his throat irritated by particles of dust and sand.

  K’ebero appeared at his side, moving slowly with her cane as she exited the VTOL last. Rick took what pleasure he could from the knowledge that he had, at the very least, caused her lifelong discomfort.

  “You lead,” she said to him. “And please do not bother trying to waste my time with distractions and diversions.”

  “Where, exactly, am I leading us?”

  “To the Ark.”

  He mustered a dry laugh. “Lady, I don’t know where it is. Somewhere on the mountain, sure --” He pointed past the VTOL to the peak of Jabal Musa, wavering surreally in the heat. “But I don’t know where. We’ll have to search. It could take hours, days even.”

  K’ebero hobbled up to him until they were nearly nose-to-nose. Rick resisted the urge to lean back as she studied his face, eyes peering into each of his, one after the other. “You have until we reach the mountain,” she said finally. “After that, I begin killing your friends until you figure out where it is hidden.”

  “You can’t expect --”

  “I can and I do.” She gestured, and one of the soldiers shoved Rick roughly forward. “Now move.”

  They travelled up the valley towards the mountain, moving in silence save for the crunch of gravel and the rattle of the soldiers’ gear. They had donned belts mid-flight, loaded with knives and grenades, as if they were planning to storm a fortress. Rick was keenly aware of the guns pointed at his back and felt torn between hurrying and dawdling. Nasim must have known something was wrong by now. True, they weren’t due to arrive in Cairo for another two hours, but surely the radio silence from the VTOL had triggered alarm bells somewhere in the vast machine of Radical Dynamics. He had hoped to delay until whatever rescue force Nasim could muster arrived, but K’ebero’s timer firmly crushed that plan.

  Just come up with something, he told himself as he walked the dry river bed. Anything to convince K’ebero you’re cooperating. Anything to keep everyone alive.

  The problem was, he had no idea where to begin. He had originally intended to do some in-flight research, maybe visit the St. Catherine monastery after they arrived and see if their records held any clues, any hint of a Templar presence. With K’ebero and her forces in tow, that was out of the question. There was no way she’d allow them to get close enough to civilians to signal for help.

  Rick stared up at the peak of Jabal Musa, as if it would be painted with a giant arrow and letters spelling ARK HIDDEN HERE. They were closing the distance to its slopes much faster than he felt was fair.

  Come on, think. There had to be a cavern, natural or manmade, or a combination like the one on Tana Qirqos. Some sacred space. You wouldn’t just tuck the Ark of the Covenant into the first crevice you found. It had to be significant, worthy of the Ark’s presence.

  The answer came to him at once, but the accompanying excitement was almost immediately dampened. He didn’t want to lead K’ebero to the Ark, not if he could help it. But trying to string her along was a risk he wasn’t sure he could afford. She was clearly unstable, more so than she had been before he brought the ruins of Dungur down on her head. If she even suspected he was deceiving her, the bloodshed would start. And Rick knew he would be the last to go.

  He stumbled against a larger boulder and looked up. His heart dropped into his stomach. They had come to the foothills of the mountain. A narrow, sinuous trail was visible twisting up its slopes and winding its way to the towering peak.

  The group came to a halt behind him, all heads craned towards the top of Jabal Musa. “Well?” demanded K’ebero. She was out of breath, her injuries making even that short trek a challenge. “Now is the time to decide, Richard Álvarez. Die now, or after you have laid your eyes on the Ark.”

  Rick glared at her, then glanced away. He met Estelle’s eyes, then Booker’s. Both of them looked tired, and the side of Booker’s face was still coated in a tacky layer of dried blood. Estelle was clearly afraid, but she seemed to be mastering it more than she had done in Axum. Rick looked to Kai, whose jaw was set, his one good hand gripping the side of his wheelchair.

  Nobody said anything. Nobody would make this decision for him.

  “Speak,” K’ebero barked. She drew a pistol from her hip and waved it at Kai. “Or do you want to witness their deaths?”
>
  Rick took a breath. “Listen to me. The man who tipped you off, your angel? He was old, white, balding, right? Probably wore a weird kind of poncho?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t lower her gun. “This does not help us find the Ark.”

  “Just listen to me! I know him, alright? He’s a thief, like me, which means the only reason he helped you was because he wants the Ark for himself. If you do this, he’ll only end up taking it from you.”

  K’ebero smiled grimly. “He can try.”

  “You’ll be dead,” Rick insisted. “You don’t understand what he’s capable of, what he’s done --”

  “And you do not seem to understand what I am capable of!” She pressed her pistol against Kai’s skull and cocked back the hammer. “Or what I am willing to do!”

  Rick’s bound hands shot up, though he had no idea what he intended to do with them. “Stop!”

  “Tell me where the Ark is now or he dies first!”

  “In the church! The Greek Orthodox chapel, at the summit!”

  She regarded him uncertainly. “Tourists have crawled over this mountain for decades.”

  “But they haven’t entered the chapel,” Rick said breathlessly. His heart was pounding, blood roaring in his ears. “It’s been closed for ages, and it was built over the spot where Moses supposedly received the Ten Commandments. It has to be the place.”

  “And if it isn’t…”

  “Then shoot me,” Rick said. “This is my best guess. Unless you’re willing to wait while I do more research.”

  K’ebero eyed him for a long moment. “We do not have time,” she said finally, slipping her pistol back into its holster. “We will search this chapel.”

  “Ok, but…” Rick hesitated, not wanting to push his luck. “It’s a long climb. I don’t know if you’ll be able to --”

  “I am going.” She glanced down at Kai. “He will stay, with two of my men to watch over him.”

  “Like hell,” Kai growled.

  “I am not going to waste the time and effort to have you carried.”

  “You won’t have to.” He pressed down on the armrest with his good arm, neck corded and face taught as he struggled to stand.

  “Kai, no,” Estelle began, moving towards him. A soldier grabbed her arm and brought her roughly to a halt. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

  His whole body was shaking, but he did not let up. K’ebero watched, looking amused by his struggle. It made Rick want to do much worse than bring a building down on top of her.

  “Kai, stop it!” he snapped. “Sit down. You can’t help me if you’re dead.”

  He dropped back down into his chair with an explosive gasp. His face was red and drenched with sweat, his breathing heavy. He had only managed to lift himself by a few inches. He looked up at Rick grumpily.

  “Just hang out down here, ok? I’ll be quick. Back in no time.” He tried for a reassuring smile.

  Still catching his breath, Kai nodded. Rick looked to K’ebero. “He’s got pain medication. It’s in my backpack, on the VTOL. Please --”

  “No,” Kai grunted. His teeth were clenched. “Not gonna need it.”

  K’ebero looked to Rick and shrugged. “As he says. He does not need it. And he will never need it again, if you do not start climbing now.”

  Rick glared at her, putting as much venomous hatred into his expression as he could. K’ebero hardly looked fazed; she made a little twirling motion with her finger and nodded to the mountain.

  Turning, he stared up at the high summit, a dark granite prominence against a clear, shockingly-blue sky.

  He began to climb.

  * * *

  It was nearly three hours to the top. K’ebero set the slow, hobbling pace, since nobody dared outstrip her. Estelle marched along in the middle of their company, K’ebero and Rick leading, Booker behind her, with a soldier to the front and bringing up the rear. Periodically they had to stop so that K’ebero could catch her breath and drink water. The canteen was never passed to her, Booker, or Rick.

  Estelle hardly noticed her thirst. Even the heat of the sun, baking them against the side of the mountain as they climbed, existed in a cordoned-off section of her mind. All that she could feel was a cool flatness, a total lack of emotion. She was afraid, certainly, but she was also somehow beyond that fear. She had survived this; she would survive it again. It was only a question of how.

  There was no way to communicate with Booker without being overheard. She watched the back of Rick’s sweat-soaked shirt as they climbed, wondering if he had been telling the truth about the Greek Orthodox chapel. Wondering if the Ark would really be there. She didn’t care if it was, only wondered if this was some ploy to gain the upper hand on K’ebero or not. If so, she would need to be ready when the time came. To do what, she wasn’t certain, but she would do it, even if it meant only surviving long enough for help to arrive. She was capable; she knew that now. Estelle had proven it to herself in that arena, and she would not go back to being helpless.

  The trail led them around the face of the mountain and between enormous boulders. Estelle wondered what would happen if they encountered any other hikers, if K’ebero would have them shot or simply pushed off the side. But they met no one. This trail was apparently less popular than the one to the north, where the monastery was.

  When they finally reached the summit, it happened abruptly. They rounded a bend in the path, hopped up a low ledge, and suddenly the mountain was gone, and the entirety of the sky opened up before her. She couldn’t help but stand stunned for a moment, gasping in the thin air, taking in the view: the Sinai Desert was lay unfurled in all directions like a vast canvas, the full scope of the mountain range discernable against the curvature of the earth. The sky wasn’t a bowl, it was a vast, endless thing of infinite depth and dimension.

  The peak of Jabal Musa was a flat, irregular plateau, the edges ringed by a low wall of stones and larger, naturally-placed boulders. Two small buildings occupied the limited space: one a solid block, the other with a peaked roof and a small metal cross glinting above the entrance.

  “There’s the chapel,” Rick said, pointing. He indicated the square building next. “That one’s a mosque, but it isn’t as old. The chapel is what we want.”

  “You are -- certain?” K’ebero asked, speaking between winded breaths. She was leaning heavily on her cane.

  “No, but it’s the best I’ve got.”

  He led the way up the short flight of steps to the chapel door. They gathered on the small landing, crowded like eager parishioners. The door was a thing of dried, ancient-looking wood set with two iron crosses, with more crosses and letters carved into the surrounding stones. Some were recent, the initials of tourists wanting to leave their mark on history. Others were clearly much older, and Rick didn’t seem able to resist brushing his fingers over the barely-visible relief of a large cross, the ends of its arms flared.

  “Cross pattée,” she heard him mutter softly. “Another Templar cross.”

  “Crusaders and thieves,” K’ebero spat. “Open the door.”

  He pushed against it experimentally, then stepped back when they resisted. “I’m going to need help with this.”

  The soldier keeping a firm grip on Estelle’s arm stepped forward and threw one shoulder into the door. The old wood practically buckled beneath him, the door flying inward with a resounding bang. Rick stepped inside before the dust had even settled, not waiting for K’ebero to order him.

  The interior of the chapel was a single long room, slanting beams of sunlight shining through the narrow windows. A low altar sat at the far end of the room, draped with a white cloth. Wordlessly Rick approached it, kneeling before the altar. “I can’t work with my hands bound,” he said. K’ebero nodded and a guard cut through his zip ties. After clearing off the candles and small dishes on its surface, Rick removed the white cloth to reveal an ancient-looking hunk of stone that had been roughly hewn into a rectangular block.

  “This is it
,” Rick said. “The stone that the Ten Commandments were supposedly fashioned from.”

  K’ebero strode deeper into the chapel, looking around. “So where is the Ark?”

  “It’s not going to be just sitting out in the open, otherwise it would have been found by now. It’s hidden.”

  She turned to look down at him, leaning on her cane. “Where?”

  Rick shot her a foul look; then, without a word, he braced himself against the stone altar and shoved.

  It didn’t move.

  “Um.” Rick sat back.

  “Try again,” K’ebero said coldly.

  He gave it another shove, grunting as he threw all of his weight against it. Still the stone didn’t budge. “I’ll help,” Booker said. K’ebero nodded to his captor; his own ties were cut, and he was allowed to join Rick. Together they pushed, feet scuffing against the floor as they tried to gain some leverage.

  The seconds stretched for what felt like far too long -- and then it moved. Less than an inch, but with a scraping sound that was loud in the small space. “Yes!” Rick gasped. “C’mon, keep going!”

  The altar grated another inch along the stone floor, then seemed to catch. Without a word Estelle pulled away from her own captor and joined Rick on his other side. She braced both of her bound hands against the side of the altar and shoved, channeling her fear, her cold fury, her hatred of K’ebero. She heard herself give a scream of effort.

  She was small, but it made a difference -- the altar began to move more smoothly, a constant growl of stone against stone reverberating off the chapel walls and buzzing through her body. A tiny trickle of cold air issued from beneath it, becoming a steady stream that fluttered her hair.

  Beneath them, a hole yawned in the stone floor.

  Rick gave one final shove, then fell backwards into a seated position. Estelle and Booker sat hard beside him at the same time. All three of them stared at the newly-exposed opening. Rectangular, slightly smaller than the altar itself. But big enough, Estelle knew. Just big enough…

 

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