Finding Sheba (Omar Zagouri Thriller Book 1)

by H. B. Moore

  “Can we hold off the media?” Mia asked.

  “I don’t think anyone can hold off the media,” Lucas said. “So, as long as Omar continues to progress, we’ll all remain here to work.”

  Alem’s eyes lit with excitement. “What’s the plan?”

  “Excavate what we can until we are elbowed out by someone with more guns than us.”

  CHAPTER

  45

  Salalah, Oman

  Abdallah Saleh al-Qadi closed his cell phone and squeezed the thin plastic as he leaned against the leather upholstery in his den. Taking a few days away from the office had given him a chance to orchestrate matters of more importance. And until about seventy-five seconds ago, everything was running smoothly.

  The phone call from Ismail brought al-Qadi back to the reality of the present at lightning speed. One part of him rejoiced that a tomb had finally been found after many months—even years—of delving through the latest research and bribing others in ways he never thought possible to discover the gem of Dr. Lyon’s theory.

  Then there was the ring that devil of a woman, Mia, had brought.

  It had been dated to the tenth century, and matched the symbol found on the Jerusalem tomb wall, verifying that the legend of the queen was real. It was too good to be true.

  Israel would remain secure in their claim to the Holy Land—for now. But before al-Qadi threw the phone against the wall and shattered it, he dialed one last number.

  “My friend,” the voice on the other end of the line said after the first ring.

  “Rabbel. There has been a problem.”

  A ragged intake of air could be heard. “I’m already working on it, sir. We’re sure it can be fixed.”

  “No, I’m afraid this is beyond repair.” Al-Qadi’s temples throbbed with fury. The line was dead silent on the other end. “Ismail has been exposed in Shisur, and undercover operatives are waiting at the tomb site right now. He said a female student from America fell into a tomb shaft.”

  “I already have men on the way to Shisur.”

  “It’s not enough. You need to go.”

  “No problem,” Rabbel soothed. “We’ve set up a preliminary excavation there. My convoy can make it there in no time, and the woman won’t know what hit her.”

  “There’s more,” al-Qadi said. “She’s with a group—organized by the patriarch.”

  “Impossible,” Rabbel said. “We have him dangling from our strings like a puppet.”

  “Apparently, the patriarch doesn’t share your view,” al-Qadi said. “The Omani government is behind this operation and is no doubt informed of the group’s progress.”

  “As I said,” Rabbel continued, “my people will be there before the Omani military—”

  “We have a new plan. One that will destroy Shisur. If we can’t have the queen, no one gets her.” Al-Qadi broke the connection and, with a single swift movement, sent the cell phone crashing to its demise.

  CHAPTER

  46

  Shisur, Oman

  The shadows grew longer, casting much-needed shade over the excavation site. Alem worked alongside the crew as much as his body allowed. Even Jade and Mia joined in, lifting rocks and transferring wheelbarrows of sand. Mia alternated between keeping vigil by Omar’s side and working out her frustration in a physical manner. Every hour or two, Lucas paused to phone the patriarch—apparently the purse strings behind the excavation.

  Alem was just as excited as the others to investigate the tomb, though he wasn’t entirely convinced that it belonged to the queen of Sheba—even with the name of Wila’at engraved on the sarcophagus. After all, his country referred to her as Makeda, and the Yemenis called her Bilqis, while the Romano-Jewish scholar Josephus had written about her as Nikaule.

  “The ramp is ready,” Lucas said, arriving at Alem’s side.

  Mia wiped her dirty hands against her pants. “I’m coming too.”

  Lucas, Alem, Mia, and Jade made their way down the steep ramp, Lucas leading the way. The crew perched around the expanded opening, their dusty faces lit with excitement. Whatever history arose from this burial ground, they were part of it.

  As they descended into the darkness, Alem noted how different this burial site was from the proclaimed one in Ethiopia. His people believed the queen was buried in a hillside tomb in Aksum.

  Had the thousands of years of sand and wind merely covered the great edifice built to the queen? Or did she want to be buried below the ground, something unfit for a person of her rank and notoriety?

  The group moved to the sarcophagus first, and Mia murmured in admiration. Lucas began to take pictures, snapping photos from all angles of the walls, the ceiling, and the floor surrounding the stone block.

  Alem ran his fingers along the walls, knowing that after this day, probably no one but an archaeologist would be able to get this close. He found the symbol Jade had told him about. “Come here.”

  Jade and Lucas moved to his side, and he said in a hushed voice, “The symbol of Sheba—etched on the stone.”

  Jade touched the design. “No one can doubt this is her tomb.”

  “This symbol has become universal in representing a woman’s power combined with a man’s authority,” Lucas said. “Although we connect it with the queen, there’s no way to know where it originated.”

  Mia cleared her throat behind him. “The most eminent scholars in the world would argue that this symbol originated with the queen of Sheba.”

  Alem moved from the three and continued inspecting the wall. He came to the small opening in the rock, the one Jade had told him about. Sticking his flashlight through the hole, he peered through the dank darkness and let out a low whistle as his flashlight’s beam reflected off something shiny.

  “It’s another room,” Alem said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “A treasury, I think.”

  The others joined him, alternating turns looking into the adjacent cavern.

  “Give me a leg up,” Lucas said. Alem hoisted him through the opening.

  They heard the muffled thud of Lucas’s body landing on the other side. Alem, Jade, and Mia put their heads together, trying to see into the room.

  “Are you all right?” Mia called.

  Lucas’s voice echoed. “Yep.”

  Jade turned to Alem. “Help me?”

  He helped her through the wall, then looked at Mia. “Do you want to go through too?”

  “No. Someone better stay on this side, just in case . . . But you go ahead.”

  Alem wriggled his way through the opening, taking extra care with his bandages. Jade guided his safe landing. Alem swept his flashlight around the new room. It was quite different from the first. Shelves had been carved into the rock, filled with items that looked decayed and unrecognizable.

  “There’s gold here, gemstones . . .” Lucas said as he walked about the room. “I can’t believe it was never looted.”

  Alem searched the walls, finding the same writing as in the other room. “Look, here’s that name of Batal again. Do you think it’s a place?”

  Lucas came up behind Alem. “Most likely a man. ‘Batal’ means ‘hero’ in Arabic.”

  “Who was he to the queen?” Jade asked.

  “Maybe a brother or a son?” Alem suggested. He raised his light to join Lucas’s, and the wall was flooded in brightness.

  “Or her husband,” Lucas said. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, Alem.”

  “She was never officially married. Ancient Ethiopian law states that a queen can reign only if she’s a virgin,” Alem said.

  Jade looked at him. “Then why did they accept her after she conceived with Solomon?”

  “Because Solomon tricked her, and she was not to blame. Therefore, it must have been God’s will that the queen bear a son to carry on her name,” Alem said.

&nbs
p; “Do you think Batal was a king?” Jade asked Lucas.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Nothing here uses the title of king, although he must have been privileged because of the manner of his burial.” He waved his hand toward the artifacts. “And to have so much buried with him, he must have been in a position of power.”

  “Are there dates?” Alem asked.

  Lucas walked along the wall, searching. “Not dates in the sense that we would write them down. But I would guess this person died before the queen,” he concluded. He snapped several more photos, then moved to the shelves.

  Jade sidled up to Alem. “What are you thinking?”

  Although he knew she meant well, Alem felt himself bristle. “It looks like the country of Oman may have won.”

  “Whether the queen of Sheba was buried here or someplace in Ethiopia, that doesn’t tarnish the heritage she left behind.” She touched his arm gently. “Think about it. Scholars will conclude she was a valid person, a real part of the Bible. The debates and uncertainties will be put to rest. Even if it is disappointing that her tomb is not in Ethiopia, this finding can bring only enlightenment.”

  “You don’t understand,” Alem said. “There’s archaeological proof of a monarch family that reigned in the tenth century BC. If it wasn’t Makeda’s family, who was it?”

  “Azhara.” Lucas’s voice echoed through the cavern.

  “What?” Alem asked.

  Lucas walked toward them. “Before coming to Oman, Jade and I took a detour to Ethiopia. There we saw a statue of a woman that had just been discovered. Her royal heritage was plain, and the name on the statue was Azhara.” Lucas put a hand on Alem’s shoulder. “It may also interest you that a second name appeared, that of Tambariah.”

  “Tambariah is my middle name.” Alem’s thoughts tumbled. “I was named after my grandfather, who was named after his. Tambariah has been a family name for generations.”

  CHAPTER

  47

  Shisur, Oman

  He felt her presence before he saw her, so when Omar opened his eyes, he knew Mia was sitting next to him.

  She smiled. “Welcome back, Omar.”

  Without moving his head, Omar looked about the enclosure and recognized they were inside a tent. That would account for the stuffiness. He licked his dried lips. His mouth felt cottony, bitter. Mia offered him water.

  “How did I get to be in the care of such a beautiful woman?”

  She pulled a face. “If you hadn’t just been shot, I’d smack you.”

  Through the haze, he saw the dampness of the hair around her face and smelled her perspiration. “Is there danger in opening the tent a little?” His tongue felt thick against the roof of his mouth.

  “Flies,” she said.

  “How did I get here? Did you rescue the man in distress?”

  Mia fought hard not to smile. “Something like that. I was pretty ticked off at being awakened in the middle of the night by groping men. One thing led to another, and I followed Ismail to the cave, attacked him, and saved you all.”

  “That’s my girl. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” He shifted on the cot, but it only sent pain through his shoulder. He looked at the bandage wrapped around his bare arm. It was an expert wrapping job at least.

  “Lucas might have helped a little.” She wrinkled her brow. “I should have shot the man.”

  “Lucas?” he asked.

  “No,” Mia said, delivering a light jab to Omar’s good shoulder. “Ismail.”

  The cobwebs were drifting from his memory. “Ah . . . he did seem a little eager to let us see the tomb. Maybe he wanted to bury us in it.”

  “Maybe.” Mia’s voice sounded disconcerted.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to focus on her face. “Were you hurt?”

  “Not physically.”

  Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and Omar haltingly raised himself up on one elbow, wincing with the discomfort. “Mia, I think you’re becoming soft.”

  “Hardly,” she said, folding her arms. “I just don’t like failing on a mission.”

  “So that’s it. All about the mission, huh?”

  She nodded emphatically, but he wasn’t convinced. “Who took out the bullet?”

  “Lucas, with Alem’s help.”

  Omar settled back on the folded sleeping bag that acted as a pillow. “It seems I owe Lucas a great deal, as well as an apology.”

  “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I thought wrong.” He took pleasure in gazing at her, glad that she was here. Glad that she was sitting next to him. He noticed that the light coming through the weave of the tent had faded somewhat. It must be early evening. “How long have you been here?”

  She shrugged. “Off and on. The workers returned after they had fled from the commotion. We dug out the opening of the tomb and built a ramp. Lucas, Jade, Alem, and I explored the cave and took a lot of pictures.”

  Omar felt the interest burn within. “Anything significant?”

  “We found a second room—a treasury. On the walls, it mentions Batal again, and Lucas thinks it’s maybe her husband or brother.”

  “I know that name. It was written on the sketch I found beneath the museum.” Omar fell silent for moment.

  “Lucas said it means—”

  “ ‘Hero,’ ” he said. “Did you update Levy?”

  “Yes,” Mia said, narrowing her eyes. “He’s coming to Shisur. Did you have something to do with that?”

  “He just wants to put me in my place.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Guy stuff. You wouldn’t understand.” Ignoring her glare, he said, “Did you tell the patriarch?”

  “Lucas keeps him updated. I alerted the military, though.”

  He arched a brow. “Good for you.” Mia calling for backup was unusual. She must really be worried about AWP. “Why are you being Ms. Nice all of a sudden?”

  Mia turned her gaze from him, her face flushed.

  “Had a change of heart?” He asked it in a joking manner, but inwardly he hoped it was true. Maybe something good would come from being shot. Maybe.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked when she didn’t look at him.

  “Ismail got away.”

  Omar let the information sink in. “He’ll get his dues.”

  Mia faced him, her cheeks flaming. “He needs to pay for what he’s done to you. It’s wrong that he’s getting away with it.” Standing, she removed her gun from her belt and checked the ammunition. “I’m going to find him before everything else goes down, even if—”

  “Whoa,” Omar said, straining into a sitting position. He grabbed Mia’s hand. “You’re not going anywhere. You didn’t see what he was about to do to Jade. The bastard’s not worth it . . . Besides”—his tone softened—“I know you’re just trying to show how much you still care for me.”

  “I am not,” Mia nearly shouted. She pulled away from him, but Omar caught her hand again, as painful as it was to move his shoulder. He tugged her toward him, and she sat back down by him.

  She met his gaze, her eyes still seething with anger. “He needs to pay.”

  “He will. As soon as I’m healed, we’ll bring him in together.” He hadn’t let go of her hand, and she hadn’t seemed to notice.

  “But our assignment will be over by then.”

  “Perhaps yours will,” Omar said. “I’ll have plenty of time, since I’m retiring.”

  Mia scoffed. She pulled her hand from his, finally noticing that he still held it. But she didn’t seem annoyed over it. “You can’t retire at thirty-six. What do you have, a stash of gold somewhere?”

  “I’m not retiring from working—just from working for the government. I’m tired of people like Levy telling me what to do and how to do it.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not cut out for th
is job.”

  “You’re perfect for it,” Mia protested.

  “No, you’re perfect for it.”

  Their eyes met, and it was like Omar could see into the depths of her eyes—she was looking at him differently. Like she had before everything fell apart between them. He didn’t want the moment to get away from him, so he threaded his fingers through hers, watching for her reaction. She lowered her eyes, looking at their intertwined fingers. She didn’t draw away, which gave Omar hope like he hadn’t had before.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Looking at you.”

  She raised her eyes, and her cheeks flushed, making her dark eyes sparkle. The edges of her mouth lifted.

  “Come closer,” Omar said. He fully expected the moment to be interrupted by her realization that they’d broken up months ago, but instead, she leaned toward him. Omar’s heart was pounding harder than it had been when he was almost killed.

  “What do you want?” she asked, her breath teasing his face with its warmth.

  “Do you really have to ask?” She was closer to him now, and if either of them moved, their mouths would be touching. Omar wanted to draw her toward him, but he forced himself to wait for her to kiss him first.

  It was the longest three seconds in history.

  When she finally did kiss him, it all became worth it. She kissed him like she had never stopped caring about him. Omar wished that everything outside the tent could disappear—the sand, the rocks, the wind, the sun. Mia was the only thing that mattered. He pulled her closer, even though it caused his shoulder to throb.

  The familiarity of her body against his made him want to lose himself completely, and he slowed his kissing, taking his time, relearning everything.

  “Omar,” Mia whispered, drawing away. “You need to rest.”

  He felt like he was waking up from the most heavenly dream. But when he opened his eyes, it was real. Mia really was wrapped in his arms. As she disentangled herself, he winced at the sudden jolt of pain in his shoulder.

  “Ow!” Omar said.