by Nathan Swain
Eastgate took a small torch out of his rucksack and pulled his night vision sunglasses down over his eyes. He carved a large hole at the base of the fence. White and red sparks glowed in the shadows of dawn as Eastgate melted the last pieces of mesh.
With a touch to the outer lens of the sunglasses, Eastgate activated the night vision and tossed their rucksacks inside the fence. Olivia became a darkened statute in a sea of emerald green. “Squirm on in there,” Eastgate said, following Olivia through the hole in the fence.
Olivia turned on her flashlight. The cave wasn’t totally dark. A few holes in the ceiling allowed the first beams of morning light to stream in.
Olivia shivered in the dampness of the cave. The air was wet and mossy and seemed to weigh on her chest.
“Time to strip down,” Eastgate said.
They removed their outer layers, revealing wet suits underneath.
Eastgate handed Olivia a pair of water shoes from his rucksack. “Here, put these on.”
They walked forward into the cave. Olivia cast her flashlight into the darkness ahead.
“Water,” Olivia said thirty seconds later, feeling the first rivulets of cold liquid flow over her toes.
“Here we go. Looks like we’re on track.”
The floor of the cave began sloping downward, and in five minutes the water had reached half-way up their shins.
Eastgate sensed something looming ahead of them, lit up by a pocket of light from above. “What’s that?” he whispered.
“Where?” Olivia asked, canvassing the cave with her flashlight.
With another step, Eastgate tripped and his forehead collided with something sleek and sharp. He fell backward, stumbling to the floor of the cave with a splash.
Olivia searched for Eastgate in the water next to her. “Are you alright?”
Eastgate tried to process what had happened. “I think so,” he said. He patted himself down to make sure he didn’t lose any gear in the fall.
Olivia thrust the beam from her flashlight into the darkness ahead. Rising before them was a black obelisk. It was about fifteen feet high and two feet wide. It appeared to be made of the same jagged, black rock as the walls around them.
She walked toward the object. Carved into each side of the obelisk were approximately twenty small bas-reliefs surrounded by several lines of cuneiform text. A hole in the roof of the cave allowed a shaft of light to shoot through, illuminating the front of the obelisk.
Olivia read the inscription. “It’s Akkadian,” she said, gleefully. “It depicts… a king, a ruler of Assyria, receiving… tributes.”
“Incredible.”
“Tiglath-Pileser and Shalmaneser the Third. They presided over ceremonies here. Religious ceremonies of some kind.”
“When?”
“If memory serves, it would have been about 3,000 years ago. This discovery alone could make a career. I can’t believe no one’s excavated this.”
“I can’t believe Rich didn’t write about it in his journal.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to bury the lead.”
Eastgate took out his own flashlight and scanned the back surface of the monolith. “It doesn’t mention the Garden of Eden by any chance, does it?”
“No, but it makes sense these caves would have been treated with special reverence and used for ceremonial purposes given where they lead to.”
Eastgate’s head ached from his collision with the obelisk. He could feel a fleshy, golf ball-sized welt take shape on his forehead.
“Let’s keep moving,” Eastgate said, splashing his face with a scoop of cold cave water.
“Good on Rich for making it this far,” Olivia said. “This water is freezing even in my wet suit.”
The water had risen up to Olivia’s chest and Eastgate’s belly.
“We must be getting close,” Eastgate said. “Here, give me your pack.” Eastgate found an outcropping of stone that created a shelf in the wall and placed their rucksacks on top of it. “Keep your gun strapped to your back. Once we start swimming you’ll need your arms to propel yourself forward.”
Water began flowing from an inlet in the wall of the cave and they were quickly losing room to breathe. Olivia was at the brink of being submerged. She was only able to keep her mouth above the water line by standing on her toes.
“Will,” Olivia said, startled by the influx of water. He swam to her side and lifted her up. They only had about two feet of space above them.
“OK, it’s time,” Eastgate said.
Olivia nodded.
Eastgate activated his underwater flashlight.
“If you don’t think you can continue, turn back right away. Swim back here. I’ll find you.”
“OK.”
Eastgate pushed Olivia ahead and they plunged into the yellow-brown world underneath them. Eastgate’s flashlight lit up the envelope of water in front of them. As they surged forward and downward, the floor of the cave disappeared. We just moved from the foyer to the ballroom,
He felt comfortable. After a decade downrange, he had too many bumps and bruises to maintain a score near the top of the Army’s physical fitness tests, but he continued to put up solid numbers year after year. His training with the Navy SEALS earlier in his career had paid off on countless deploys. He still had at least two minutes of breath. Probably three if he was pushed to the limit.
Eastgate looked over at Olivia. She was swimming well and moving quickly ahead toward a faint, murky light.
The light suffused the water around them with a rich, golden glow. With each stroke, it grew more intense. We’re almost there, Eastgate thought. Olivia signaled a thumbs-up.
Eastgate readied to make a final push. But when he looked up, a streak of black surged past him, headed for Olivia.
Chapter 79
At first, Eastgate thought it was a sea creature, it moved with such incredible velocity. He pivoted and shined the flashlight at it. Eastgate saw human arms and legs in a wet suit and scuba mask. Olivia was under attack.
Olivia clawed at the attacker’s head, attempting to force his mask off. But the attacker landed two blows to her abdomen and she doubled over. She had lost her breath and was fading.
Eastgate kicked his feet up and swam downward, swiveling his legs up and down like a porpoise tail. Looking up, he could see the attacker’s form above him, holding Olivia’s limp body in his arms.
Pushing down on the water with his hands, Eastgate propelled himself upward. He surfaced and withdrew his knife. With one swing, Eastgate cut clean through the breathing apparatus of the attacker’s scuba mask, forcing him to the surface. Eastgate held onto his arm and stabbed at his wet suit. A mist of blood squirted into the water.
Just as Eastgate was about to land a blow with his knife, the attacker pinned Olivia to his chest and propelled himself forward, away from Eastgate, his chest rising in the air like a speedboat.
Eastgate swam after them as fast as he could, but the attacker surged forward effortlessly, cutting a vortex into the silvery water ahead. Bobbing his head up and down, trying to execute an efficient freestyle stroke, Eastgate could hear the whir of motorized flippers pushing and churning through the cold water ahead. But a minute later, the murmur stopped. Instead, Eastgate heard a guttural moan. It must have been from Olivia’s attacker, the sound of his suffering from the knife wound Eastgate left him with.
The attacker was on dry land now, likely carrying Olivia’s unconscious body over his shoulder, limping and bleeding towards the opening of the cave.
Eastgate could almost touch the floor of the cave with his feet. He could close the distance between them in minutes. But he was at a disadvantage. While Eastgate couldn’t risk hitting Olivia with a dart from his gun, her attacker had no such concerns. Rounds of semi-automatic fire began pinging off the sides of the cave and whizzing past Eastgate’s head. A quick pulse of fire shaved a sharp slab of rock from above, and it nearly decapitated Eastgate as he searched for the rucksacks they had left behind. He wa
s forced to turn off his flashlight to prevent his pursuit from turning into target practice.
The water was close to freezing and a sharp wind from the outside swirled down the belly of the cave.
Exhausted, Eastgate was nearly overwhelmed with regret. I never should have brought her. I should have been better prepared. If the attacker was sloppy, Olivia might have already drowned from taking in too much water. Or maybe he had cut her throat, not caring if she lived or died. Eastgate felt helpless.
Ops were dangerous enough without negative emotions getting in the way. But despair downrange could be deadly. It’s why years ago, when dejection threatened to overcome courage, he was programmed at Camp Mackall to remember the creed of the Special Forces soldier, De Oppresso Liber:
I know that I will be called upon to perform tasks in isolation,
Far from familiar faces and voices.
With the help and guidance of my faith,
I will conquer my fears and succeed.
Running through the cold water of the cave, steeling himself for oncoming fire from Samir, Eastgate clung to those words once more. They had helped him get through a handful of hopeless situations the past decade. Because he had put someone else’s life in danger, someone who he cared for deeply, he needed those words now more than ever.
Have faith, Will.
He came to a stop and attempted to slow his breathing. Replace fear with faith. Work the problem. He leaned against the wall of the cave and drank some water from a canteen in his rucksack. A minute later, his head was at least clear enough to start thinking constructively again.
The attacker must have been Samir, Eastgate determined. He was about the same size as the man whose car he disabled on the M11. It was there that Eastgate learned something very important about Samir—he was reckless. A cautious operator would never have exposed himself the way Samir did on the highway. Even in the cave, his attack was ill-conceived and clumsy—albeit successful. With one more strike, Eastgate could have severed Samir’s artery and left him to bleed to death in the cave. His body would have been eaten by algae for the next millennium.
Eastgate, by comparison, had trained for more than a decade in special reconnaissance. He had the patience to watch and observe from afar for several days and weeks. He also was an expert at direct action—raids, military strikes, and killing. That’s how he would eventually take care of Samir, he assured himself. It would just be a matter of time. He just hoped Olivia was still alive.
When he reached the obelisk, the shooting had stopped. Other than the sounds of Eastgate’s rhythmic breathing, the cave was silent. Samir had made it out of the cave with Olivia.
It was past Noon by the time Eastgate emerged from the mouth of the cave to the lakeshore. Shadows from the sun’s passage west had already begun to fall on the southeast corner of the lake. Eastgate fired a flare into the sky as a signal to Karzan. A moment later, he heard the engine of the Humvee rumble to life.
Eastgate pulled himself up the ropes, scaling the mountainside in five minutes. When he reached the peak of the ridge, Karzan and the brothers were kicking around a soccer ball.
“Where is Olivia?” Karzan asked, smiling at something his brother had said.
“She’s been kidnapped,” Eastgate said. “And I have no idea where she’s been taken.”
At that moment, another man appeared from behind the Humvee. It was a familiar face.
“Maybe I can help,” he said.
It was Pearl.
Chapter 80
“Pearl, what the hell are you doing here?”
Pearl was wearing blue jeans and a white New York Mets t-shirt. It looked like sunlight hadn’t touched his skin for five years.
“Jane, I know who has Olivia.”
“Who is it?”
“The guy whose car you shot up outside of Cambridge. It’s Samir Zana. They’re long gone by now.”
Although it was what Eastgate suspected, Pearl’s confirmation of Olivia’s attacker hit him hard. She had been Samir’s target all along.
“Then I’ll go back to the cave. If I can get proof of the Garden of Eden I can use it as leverage against the Flaming Sword to get her back.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Pearl said.
Eastgate was starting to get upset. Something was going on with Pearl. Jarrett had mentioned his handle in connection with Noah. At the time, Eastgate wrote it off as a strange and somewhat unsettling coincidence. Nothing more. But maybe Jarrett was on to something after all.
“And how the hell do you know that?”
Pearl motioned Eastgate to take a walk with him, squinting up at the sky as they moved.
“The Garden of Eden isn’t real. At least not the location you’ve been trying to get to.”
“And you know this how?”
“I was hired to make you think it was real.”
Eastgate did a double take.
“I was hired before I knew you were involved. And at that point I had no choice but to finish the job. It meant my life.”
“What was your job, Pearl?”
“She was my job,” Pearl said, looking out over the lake. “Olivia.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The invasion began. Nasiriyah was a war zone. But Olivia wouldn’t give up on her dig. She was even close to getting UN protection for it. She was planning to move ahead this fall. That was something my client couldn’t tolerate.”
“But how—”
“The tablet you found at the checkpoint. It was created by my employer. Don’t ask me how, or what it says. I have no idea. My client took care of that.”
Eastgate looked down. He had been betrayed. He wanted to send his fist through Pearl’s bobbly head.
“The two men you detained at the checkpoint by the museum. They’re Hezbollah, imprisoned in Israel. I arranged for their freedom in exchange for their assistance. I instructed them to drive to the checkpoint and pretend that what they had in that suitcase was the most sacred object in the world. One they’d be willing to die for.”
“And I was lucky enough to be running the checkpoint that night, and that’s how I fell into all of this?”
“Not luck, Jane,” Pearl said, shaking his head. “No, no, no. It was all planned. You were handpicked by my client to be in charge of recovering the museum’s artifacts. He researched you, reviewed your dossier. There was something in there he liked.”
“How flattering,” Eastgate said, a flash of revulsion churning his stomach.
“He pulled some strings and had you moved there.”
Eastgate remembered his meeting with McQuistad. What is it he said? “Some people very high up want you on this job.”
“But how did you know what I would do with the tablet?”
“We knew you would go to the museum,” Pearl said. He looked up at Eastgate sheepishly. “I bribed Zibari’s assistant to direct you to Omid.”
“And Omid was—”
“Omid was bullshit,” Pearl said. “He’s also an actor. A really good one actually. He’s done some theater in London.”
“He’s very convincing as an asshole,” Eastgate said. “And his job was to send me to Olivia.”
“Exactly.”
“But what about the carbon dating of the tablet? Allison ran it through and it came out six thousand years old.”
“Think about it. Did you see Allison run the test? Did you see the computer generate those numbers yourself?”
Eastgate thought back to the lab, to the morning when they found Allison. “It was in his jacket.”
“Planted there, by Samir.”
Eastgate raised his hands to his head.
“A real carbon dating of that thing would place it in the year 2002. That’s probably the result Allison printed out before Samir destroyed it.”
“So, Samir was in on the whole thing.”
“No, I don’t think so. He was a true believer. He still thinks he’s protecting the Garden of Eden.’ ”
>
“He was deceived too?”
“Yes, by his father. My client.”
“Your client wanted Olivia kidnapped? Why?”
“No. That was never part of the plan. When it was clear you guys had bought the story about the second Garden of Eden and the Flaming Sword, my client called off Samir. His job was to push you forward, but he was no longer needed.”
“What happened?”
“He’s not a professional. He’s had some kind of breakdown and he’s gone out on his own. He won’t stop.”
“And now you want to help?”
“As much as I can.”
Eastgate wondered whether he could believe Pearl. He was a fraternity brother, an allegiance that once transcended all others for Eastgate. They had been through hell together as pledges, and after Eastgate saved Pearl’s life on the night of their initiation ceremony, Pearl would have done anything for him. But Eastgate worried that Pearl had changed. Had Pearl’s career warped his sense of fidelity? Was he being truthful now, or was he spewing another string of lies?
“I have to ask you something. Did you hire Noah to assassinate me?”
“How did you connect me to Noah?”
“You’re not the only one with sources, Pearl.”
“Noah was meant to scare you. To get you to buy into Omid’s story. He was never authorized to use deadly force.”
“That was you in the tunnels who killed him, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, and I don’t feel bad about it either. He’s not exactly Mother Theresa.”
“What about the ambush at the checkpoint? My interpreter was killed. That could have easily been me.”
Pearl threw up his hands. “Come on, Jane. That would never have been you. Once I realized you were the subject of the op I made sure you were protected. I took precautions. The gunmen at the checkpoint were sharp shooters, real pros.”
