The Russian soldiers backed out of the temple toward the fissure, one by one leaving them alone in the Temple until the last had vanished. Ethan groaned as he held his belly in his arms.
‘I wish he wouldn’t keep doing that,’ he wheezed, and then looked at Mitchell. ‘Is she okay?’
Mitchell lifted Elena’s frail body up. ‘She’s alive, but she’s weak. We need to get her out of here.’
‘They’re going to bomb the tomb too,’ Lopez reminded Ethan as she helped him to his feet. ‘They’ll probably seal up the entrance before they go and booby trap it from the other side. There’s no way we can leave the same way we came in.’
Lucy turned to the Ark and dashed up to it, and then she gasped in amazement as she looked inside.
‘My God,’ she whispered.
Ethan frowned and moved up onto the altar alongside her, and then he looked down into the Ark and was as stunned as she was.
Inside was a mummy, the ancient remains of an Egyptian man. The arms were folded across the chest, but unlike most mummies that Ethan had seen the legs were tucked up against the body. Ethan figured that the pose had been necessary to ensure that the body fitted inside the confines of the Ark.
Lucy Morgan looked at the bone dry remains and her whispered exclamation echoed around the tomb.
‘Tjaneni.’
Lopez moved to her side and looked down at the ancient corpse, still encased within the endless wrappings that protected the body within from the decay that would otherwise have turned it to dust over the thousands of years that had passed since.
‘Looks like he figured the only way to be sure that the Ark wasn’t located was to stay with it,’ Lopez said.
Lucy nodded, her gaze fixed upon the scribe’s form.
‘It all makes sense now,’ she said. ‘Why the Ark disappeared so completely, why this tomb was never found. The people who built it worked from the outside in, and they sealed themselves in and never left.’
Ethan looked up at the stone sarcophagi all around the walls of the tomb, and he realized what she meant.
‘The builders,’ he said finally. ‘It’s not just Tjaneni who is in here, it’s his entire team.’
Lucy stood back from the Ark of the Covenant and glanced at the statues around the walls.
‘They’re stone sarcophagi,’ she said, ‘each one a tomb for a builder.’
Ethan glanced again at the exit where Mishkin and his men had vanished.
‘The tablet’s are gone,’ he said finally. ‘Whatever is written on them is lost to the Russians. All we can hope for is that Hellerman can escape and get word out to Jarvis that we’re trapped down here.’
Lucy nodded. ‘Those tablets were priceless beyond measure, the most valuable historical artefact in human history. We’re nothing without it.’
Lopez chuckled bitterly.
‘Maybe we should embalm ourselves and borrow some of those coffins, ‘cause we’re in for a long stay down here with the rest of these guys.’
Ethan looked about desperately for some inspiration, for a way to escape the tomb. Mitchell was doing the same, searching the walls.
‘If these builders entombed themselves, there’s probably no other way out,’ Mitchell pointed out. ‘They wouldn’t have needed one.’
Ethan frowned as a sudden thought hit him.
‘Hold on. Tjaneni couldn’t have mummified himself, right? How did he end up in here and all of the builders end up in stone coffins, if they were the only ones down here?’
Ethan looked at Lucy, who appeared suddenly stunned by the question. It was logical of course that the builders could not have entombed themselves after death: somebody must have finished the process of embalming the bodies and placing them in the stone coffins and the Ark, unless…
Lucy whirled to the Ark and hurried to it.
‘The words of The Watchers,’ she whispered to herself, ‘heard from human skin.’
Ethan moved to her side, aware of her sudden excitement as she stared down at Tjaneni.
‘What?’ he asked.
Lucy seemed to shake with anticipation as she reached into her tool kit and produced a small metal hook.
‘The watchers, the prophecy, the words they used,’ she said. ‘Were they Aisha’s exact words?’
Lopez nodded. ‘That’s what she said.’
Lucy looked back at Tjaneni’s remains and smiled. ‘You sneaky old goat, you knew exactly what you were doing right to the end.’
Ethan frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
Lucy leaned over and peeled back a few layers of the linen entombing Tjaneni’s remains.
‘He deceived us right to the very end,’ she said. ‘He knew that if anybody came in here they’d be looking for the tablets, the commandments as we now know them, the Word of God. They would instinctively steal the tablets and probably the Ark, and the riches surrounding the tomb, but they would have no interest in the mummy itself.’
As Ethan watched, Lucy peeled back a few more layers of the linen, and there within he saw a corner of Tjaneni’s shoulder appear. The flesh was visible, a dark brown in color and as dry as the desert sands that billowed still far above them. He could see Tjaneni’s bones poking against the desiccated skin, and against the dark brown he could see black shapes.
Lopez peered into the Ark and she gasped again.
‘It’s that same text again,’ she said, ‘the same stuff that was on the tablet and the Black Knight!’
Lucy shook with excitement as she worked.
‘The tablets are a ruse,’ she said, ‘the whole legend merely a deception. They’re not the word of God. Tjaneni is. He had his entire body tattooed with it before he went to his grave.’
***
XLVII
The passages of the outer chamber were entirely black, the glow sticks having long since been extinguished and the Russians using helmet–mounted lights to illuminate their way.
Hellerman stood in utter silence, not daring even to breathe as he hid behind a pillar in the chamber and watched as the Russian soldiers milled about, waiting for their companions inside the main tomb.
There were two of them in the outer chamber, both heavily armed and pacing up and down as though bored. Hellerman was moving slowly to his left, hugging the back wall and staying in the shadows, picking his moments to move when neither of the two soldiers was facing him.
He knew that he could not call the DIA for support, for they would never come out here again for Ethan and Nicola even if they were told of the enormity of what had been discovered. Their only hope for survival was Jarvis and his team, but with Mitchell trapped on the inside Hellerman wasn’t sure what would happen when he broke free of the tomb into the desert. He had no weapon and only the GPS unit on him, which he could activate to let Jarvis know their position.
Hellerman slipped along the back wall, one pace at a time, remaining as silent as he possibly could until he reached the foot of the stairwell. In the distance far above he could hear the faint roar of the storm raging across the deserts. He knew that Mishkin would have placed at least two further soldiers outside the tomb entrance to prevent anybody from escaping, but Hellerman didn’t need to get entirely outside the tomb. All he needed to do was get close enough to the surface that the locator beacon would be able to transmit a signal strong enough for Jarvis to detect.
Hellerman watched the two soldiers and saw that their pacing provided no opportunity for him to escape the tomb. One or the other’s helmet flash light was always pointing at the entrance to the tomb, both men coordinating their positions so that if anyone other than their comrades appeared inside the chamber there would be at least one gun pointing at them. Only the narrowness of the fissure and the deep shadows had allowed Hellerman to slip back into the chamber unnoticed.
Hellerman clasped the locator beacon tightly in his hand and gauged the distance to the stairwell, perhaps ten feet. It was possible that he could make it, cross the gap and launch himself up the stairwell
, but it would be but a matter of moments before the elite soldiers caught him. With no means of concealing himself inside the narrow stairwell he would be hammered with bullets long before he could make it high enough to send the distress signal.
He turned and watched the two soldiers for a moment, wondering whether he could distract them with a tossed stone or other ploy, but their caution would probably ensure that they would check both exits regardless if they heard anything suspicious.
Nothing else for it then.
Hellerman reminded himself that Ethan and Nicola had faced death many times and come through safely, if a little beaten up. Now it was his turn. He took a deep, soft breath and filled his lungs as he prepared to make a dash for the stairwell. If he timed it just right, he might be able to get there while both soldiers were just turning and partially blocking each other’s field of fire.
Time to go. Three, two, one…
A Russian voice called out from within the tomb beyond, that of Colonel Mishkin, and the two soldiers whirled to face him as the general’s shadowy form came into view within the adjoining shaft on the far side of the chamber.
Hellerman dashed silently across the chamber and into the stairwell, with every pace feeling ever more certain that he would hear the terrifying crack of a gunshot or shouts of warning to those above. He ducked his head down as he hopped through the narrow entrance and then tip–toed up the stairwell and into utter blackness.
Nobody shouted. Nobody opened fire. Hellerman breathed a sigh of relief in the darkness and looked up the stairwell as he began to climb. The tomb entrance was a barely visible rectangle of faint light in the distance and he could hear the storm more clearly now. Puffs of cool air laden with sand gusted into his face as he climbed, and he pulled the locator beacon out of his pocket and prepared to switch it on.
He slowed as he reached the top of the stairwell, ready to confront whatever was awaiting him outside. He knew that the Russians would shoot him on sight, but he knew how important it was to be rescued as soon as possible. If Jarvis did not know where they were, they were as good as dead.
You’re as good as dead.
Hellerman steeled himself once again as he decided upon a change of plan. He couldn’t cower down here with the locator beacon, because sooner or later the Russians would come out of the tomb and then both he and the beacon would be switched off permanently. He could hear the storm outside, thick blankets of sand rushing past, visibility down to a few meters most likely.
Hellerman took another deep breath and focused on the rectangle of light above as he switched the beacon on. The device illuminated a red light on top, informing him that it could not transmit a full–strength signal. Hellerman began running, launched himself upward as he dashed for the light.
The sound of the storm grew intense, sand gusting down the steps in thick torrents as he climbed. The light grew a little brighter and he saw the shadowy, turbulent sky above filled with gusting sand. Hellerman took the last few steps at a full run, his thighs aching and his chest heaving as he ran, and he saw the locator beacon’s signal light change from dull red to bright green as it caught a satellite signal.
Hellerman burst from the tomb in a rush of legs and a scream of defiance, waiting to hear the first gunshot as he swung his arm back and hurled the locator beacon up into the sky. He released it as soon as he figured it would soar away from him at a forty–five–degree angle, the scientist in him ensuring that the device would fly as far away as possible into the impenetrable storm.
The beacon spun as it arced away into the dense storm clouds and vanished, and then Hellerman felt something slam into his back with the force of a freight train. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes bulged as bright pain lanced up his spine and his legs gave way beneath him. Hellerman dropped to his knees in the sand and barely saw the heavy black boot that flashed before his vision and sent him sprawling onto the dust.
A shaven headed Russian soldier sneered down at him, the barrel of an AK–47 pressed so hard against Hellerman’s cheek he thought it might punch right through as the Russian spoke above the roaring gale.
‘Nice try, American,’ he sneered, ‘but if that beacon can be detected by someone outside of this storm, how long do you think it’ll take us to find it from twenty meters away?’
Hellerman’s guts plunged in dismay as he saw a Russian soldier jog up to them with the beacon held in his hand and a grim expression of amusement on his rugged features.
‘Americans,’ he spat, ‘they’re all such geniuses.’
Hellerman sighed as the Russian tucked the beacon into the pocket of his smock.
*
Mediterranean Sea
‘We’ve got something.’
Jarvis heard Garrett’s warning and hurried across to him as the yacht carved its way silently across the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean.
‘It’s not much,’ Garrett said. ‘I got about thirty seconds of signal coming out of the desert to the west of Edfu, just off the Nile.’
Jarvis looked at a radar scope but saw nothing until Garrett re–wound the feed and he saw a weak signal flickering in the deserts of Egypt.
‘Do we have a signal verification?’ he asked.
Garrett shook his head.
‘That storm system is blocking a lot of the finer details,’ Garrett said. ‘The beacon should have transmitted the data but it’s coming through scrambled. About all I can tell you is that the signal’s signature matches that of the beacon type we gave Hellerman, and it’s broadcasting the distress code.’
Jarvis nodded. ‘And it’s not far from where we would expect them to be. Any way that we can get in there?’
Garrett shook his head.
‘Not a chance. That storm system is whipping up sandstorms a half mile high and hundreds of miles wide off the Sinai and plastering them across Egypt. We can get over it but we can’t land in it.’
Jarvis reached for his cell phone.
‘Getting over it might just be enough.’
***
XLVIII
‘We’ve got to get out of here, right now!’
Doctor Lucy Morgan lifted Tjaneni’s mummy out of the Ark and set it down on the stone flags of the temple. Ethan watched as they hurriedly unwrapped the corpse, each layer of linen revealing endless lines of bizarre hieroglyphic text written thousands of years previously by unknown hands.
As the mummified corpse of the ancient scribe was revealed, so Ethan saw that his entire body was covered in markings similar to those on the linen wrappings, tattooed into the man’s skin until barely a clear spot remained.
Lopez paced up and down, agitated. ‘We don’t have time for this,’ she said.
‘This is the only reason we’re here at all!’ Lucy shot back. ‘If we don’t record this before we get out of here, then everything we have done will have been for nothing!’
Lopez shot Ethan a concerned look, but he knew he could not argue against Lucy Morgan once she had made her decision.
‘She’s right, Nicola,’ he said finally. ‘We’ve got to take that with us or this is all for nothing.’ He looked at Lucy. ‘I take it that you’ve figured out some way of getting out of here?’
Lucy smiled grimly as she laid out the linen in sheets before her on the stone flags.
‘I’m working on it.’
‘Great,’ Lopez uttered as she raised her hands into the air in exasperation.
Ethan watched as Lucy began photographing both the linen wrappings and Tjaneni’s corpse, the body as dry as bone and the skin stretched across the bones like brown sails pulled taut across a ship’s masts. The scribe’s lips were pulled back by age, exposing his yellowing teeth in a millennia–long grimace, and his eyes were black pits long since decayed.
‘They believed in an afterlife, y’know?’ Mitchell said as he looked down at the corpse, Elena still in his arms. ‘They mummified themselves to preserve their bodies ready for when they met their gods, put their brains and hearts
in jars, stuff like that.’
Lopez rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, didn’t do him much good though did it? It’s not as though he looks like he just walked out of a salon.’
‘He doesn’t look so bad for three thousand years old,’ Ethan mused.
‘Three and a half thousand,’ Lucy corrected Ethan as she took photographs, moving hurriedly around the body.’
Ethan watched as Lucy finished her work, and then he looked at the corpse of the scribe and thought for a moment.
‘You think there’s anything else in there?’ he asked Lucy.
Doctor Morgan shook her head. ‘The Egyptians took everything out of the body and skull and placed them in preservation just like Aaron said. The body cavity will be empty.’
Ethan frowned as he looked at Tjaneni’s remains, and then he took a pace forward and lifted his boot.
‘Wait!’ Lucy wailed.
‘What?’ Ethan asked. ‘He’s not going to be worried about this and if there’s nothing inside we have nothing to lose, right?’
Lucy hesitated. ‘Yes, but, it’s priceless and it’s his body. You can’t just desecrate it like this.’
‘She’s right,’ Lopez said as she moved alongside Ethan and gently eased him away from the corpse before she turned to stand over it. ‘You need heels.’
With one vicious thump Lopez drove the heel of her boot through Tjaneni’s chest like a spear through paper. The aged scribe’s bones splintered like dry twigs as Lopez’s boot smashed them inward, and almost immediately Lopez lost balance as her boot landed on something metallic.
Ethan looked down in surprise as Lopez stepped back and looked down into the dusty cavity she had created in the scribe’s long–dead body, Lucy Morgan gasping in horror and turning away with one hand to her head.
The Genesis Cypher (Warner & Lopez Book 6) Page 31
