The hand released the young man, who fell to the ground like a rag doll.
Stowe made a broken sound as he died, a brief, dry moan, and then there was silence.
34
THE EXCAVATION
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN
Friday, 14 July 2006. 2:33 a.m.
The first part of the plan was to wake up on time. So far so good. From that moment on, everything was a disaster.
Andrea had put the wristwatch between her alarm clock and her head, with the alarm set for 2:30 in the morning. She would meet with Fowler at quadrant 14B, where she had been working when she told the priest about seeing the man on the cliff. All that the reporter knew was that the priest needed her help in order to neutralise Dekker’s frequency scanner. Fowler hadn’t told her how he planned to do this.
To make sure she would show up on time, Fowler had given her his wristwatch since her own didn’t have an alarm. It was a rough black MTM Special Ops with a Velcro wristband that seemed almost as old as Andrea herself. On the back of the watch was the inscription: That others may live.
‘That others may live.’ What kind of person wears a watch like this? Not a priest, of course. Priests wear twenty-euro watches, at best a cheap Lotus with an imitation leather strap. Nothing with as much character as this, Andrea thought before falling asleep. When the alarm sounded, she was careful to turn it off straight away and take the watch with her. Fowler had made it clear what would happen to her if she lost it. Besides which, the face had a small LED light that would make it easier to get through the canyon without tripping over one of the quadrant strings and cracking her head open on a rock.
While she searched for her clothes, Andrea listened to see if the alarm had woken anyone up. Kyra Larsen’s snores eased the reporter’s mind but she decided to wait until she got outside to put on her boots. Creeping towards the door, her customary clumsiness came into play and she dropped the watch.
The young reporter tried to control her nerves and recall the layout of the infirmary. At the far end were two stretchers, a table and the medical instruments cabinet. The three roommates slept near the entrance on their mattresses and sleeping bags. Andrea in the middle, Larsen to her left, Harel to her right.
Using Kyra’s snores to orient herself, she began searching the floor. She felt the edge of her own mattress. A little further on she touched one of Larsen’s discarded socks. She made a face and rubbed her hand on the seat of her trousers. She continued over her own mattress. A little further. That must be Harel’s mattress.
It was empty.
Surprised, Andrea took the lighter out of her pocket and flicked it on, obscuring the flame by placing her body between it and Larsen. Harel was nowhere in the infirmary. Fowler had told her not to let Harel know what they were planning to do.
The reporter didn’t have time to give the matter further thought, so she picked up the watch, which she found lying between the mattresses, and went out of the tent. The camp was as still as a tomb. Andrea was glad that the infirmary was near the north-west wall of the canyon, so she would avoid anyone on their way to or from the toilets.
I’m sure that’s where Harel is. I can’t understand why we can’t tell her what we’re doing if she already knows about the priest’s satellite telephone. Those two are up to something strange.
A moment later the professor’s air horn went off. Andrea froze, fear tearing at her like a trapped animal. At first she thought that Forrester had discovered what she was up to, until she realised that the sound was coming from some distance away. The horn was muffled but it echoed faintly through the canyon.
There were two blasts and then it stopped.
Then it began again and didn’t stop.
It’s a distress signal. I’d bet my life on it.
Andrea wasn’t sure who to call on. With Harel nowhere in sight and Fowler waiting for her at 14B, her best option was Tommy Eichberg. The service personnel tent was the closest to her now and with the help of the watch’s light, Andrea found the tent’s zipper and burst inside.
‘Tommy, Tommy, are you here?’
Half a dozen heads looked up from their sleeping bags.
‘For God’s sake, it’s two in the morning,’ said a dishevelled Brian Hanley, rubbing his eyes.
‘Get up, Tommy. I think the professor is in trouble.’
Tommy was already climbing out of his sleeping bag.
‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s the professor’s horn. It hasn’t stopped.’
‘I don’t hear anything.’
‘Come with me. I think he’s in the canyon.’
‘Just a minute.’
‘What are you waiting for, Hanukkah?’
‘No, I’m waiting for you to turn around. I’m naked.’
Andrea went out of the tent mumbling an apology. Outside the horn was still going but each successive blast was weaker. The compressed air was running out.
Tommy joined her, followed by the rest of the men in the tent.
‘Go and check in the professor’s tent, Robert,’ Tommy said, pointing at the skinny drill operator. ‘And you, Brian, go and alert the soldiers.’
This last order wasn’t necessary. Dekker, Maloney, Torres and Jackson were already approaching, not fully dressed but with their machine guns at the ready.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ Dekker said. He had a walkie-talkie in his huge hand. ‘My guys say there’s someone raising hell at the end of the canyon.’
‘Ms Otero thinks the professor is in trouble,’ Tommy said. ‘Where are your lookouts?’
‘That sector’s at a blind angle. Waaka is looking for a better position.’
‘Good evening. What’s going on? Mr Kayn is trying to sleep,’ Jacob Russell said as he approached the group. He wore cinnamon-coloured silk pyjamas and his hair was slightly tousled. ‘I thought that-’
Dekker interrupted him with a gesture. The walkie-talkie crackled and Waaka’s flat voice came over the speaker.
‘Colonel, I can see Forrester and a body on the ground. Over.’
‘What’s the professor doing, Nest One?’
‘He’s leaning over the body. Over.’
‘Copy, Nest One. Remain at your position and cover us. Nests Two and Three, maximum alert. If a mouse farts, I want to know about it.’
Dekker broke off communication and proceeded to give further orders. In the few moments that he had been in contact with Waaka, the entire camp had roused itself. Tommy Eichberg lit one of the powerful halogen floodlights, throwing huge shadows against the canyon walls.
Meanwhile Andrea stood slightly apart from the circle of people crowding around Dekker. Over his shoulder she could see Fowler walking behind the infirmary, completely dressed. He looked around and then went over to stand behind the reporter.
‘Don’t say anything. We’ll talk later.’
‘Where’s Harel?’
Fowler looked at Andrea and arched his eyebrows.
He has no idea.
Suddenly a suspicion occurred to Andrea and she turned towards Dekker, but Fowler grabbed her arm and held her back. After exchanging a few words with Russell, the huge South African had made a decision. He left Maloney in charge of the camp and together with Torres and Jackson headed for quadrant 22K.
‘Let me go, Father! He said there was a body.’ Andrea said, trying to free herself.
‘Wait.’
‘It could be her.’
‘Hold on.’
In the meantime Russell had raised his arms and was addressing the group.
‘Please, please. We’re all very agitated, but running around from one place to another isn’t going to help anyone. Take a look around you, and tell me if there’s anyone missing. Mr Eichberg? And Brian?’
‘He’s dealing with the generator. It’s low on fuel.’
‘Mr Pappas?’
‘Everyone’s here except Stowe Erling, sir,’ said Pappas nervously, his voice cracking with the strain. ‘He was going
over quadrant 22K again. The headings on the data were wrong.’
‘Dr Harel?’
‘Dr Harel isn’t here,’ said Kyra Larsen.
‘She’s not? Does anyone have an idea where she might be?’ said a surprised Russell.
‘Where who might be?’ said a voice behind Andrea. The reporter turned, relief etched across her face. Harel was standing behind her, her eyes bloodshot, dressed only in boots and a long red shirt. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but I took a sleeping pill and I’m still a little groggy. What happened?’
While Russell was getting the doctor up to speed, Andrea confronted mixed emotions. Although she was relieved that Harel was all right, she couldn’t understand where the doctor could have been all this time or why she had lied.
And I’m not the only one, Andrea thought, watching her other tent-mate. Kyra Larsen hadn’t taken her eyes off Harel. She suspects the doctor of something. I’m sure she noticed that she wasn’t in her bed a few minutes ago. If looks were laser beams, Doc would have a hole in her back the size of a small pizza.
35
KAYN
The old man got up on a chair and untied one of the knots that held up the sides of the tent. He tied it, untied it, and tied it once more.
‘Sir, you’re doing it again.’
‘Someone’s dead, Jacob. Dead.’
‘Sir, the knot is fine. Please, come down. You have to take this.’ Russell was holding out a small paper cup containing some pills.
‘I’m not going to take them. I need to be alert. I could be next. Do you like this knot?’
‘Yes, Mr Kayn.’
‘It’s called a double eight. It’s a very good knot. My father showed me how to do it.’
‘It’s a perfect knot, sir. Please come down from the chair.’
‘I just want to make sure-’
‘Sir, you’re falling back into obsessive compulsive behaviour.’
‘Don’t use that term on me.’
The old man turned so violently that he lost his balance. Jacob moved to catch Kayn, but he wasn’t quick enough and the old man fell.
‘Are you all right? I’ll call Dr Harel!’
The old man lay crying on the floor, but only a small part of his tears was due to the fall.
‘Someone’s dead, Jacob. Someone’s dead.’
36
THE EXCAVATION
AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN
Friday, 14 July 2006. 3:13 a.m.
‘Murder.’
‘Are you sure, Doctor?’
Stowe Erling’s body was lying at the centre of a circle of gas lamps. They gave off a pale light, and the shadows on the surrounding rocks faded into a night that suddenly seemed filled with danger. Andrea fought back a shudder as she gazed at the body on the sand.
When Dekker and his entourage had arrived at the scene only minutes earlier, he’d found the old professor holding the dead man’s hand, continuously sounding the now useless air horn. Dekker had prised the professor away and called for Dr Harel. The doctor had asked Andrea to come with her.
‘I’d rather not,’ Andrea had said. She had felt dizzy and confused when Dekker had said over the radio that they had found Stowe Erling dead. She couldn’t help remembering how she’d wished that the desert would simply swallow him up.
‘Please. I’m very anxious, Andrea. Give me a hand.’
The doctor had seemed truly disturbed, so without another word Andrea began to walk alongside her. The reporter tried to think of ways she could ask Harel where the hell she’d been when this mess started, but she couldn’t do so without revealing that she too was somewhere she shouldn’t have been. When they reached quadrant 22K they discovered that Dekker had managed to illuminate the body so that Harel could determine the cause of death.
‘You tell me, Colonel. If it wasn’t murder, it was a very determined suicide. He has a knife wound at the base of his spine, which is by definition fatal.’
‘And very difficult to accomplish,’ Dekker said.
‘What do you mean?’ Russell cut in, standing next to Dekker.
Further away, Kyra Larsen was squatting next to the professor, attempting to console him. She draped a blanket over his shoulders.
‘He means that it was a perfectly placed wound. With a very sharp knife. Stowe hardly bled at all,’ Harel said, taking off the latex gloves with which she had examined the body.
‘A professional, Mr Russell,’ added Dekker.
‘Who found him?’
‘Professor Forrester’s computer has an alarm that goes off if one of the magnetometers stops transmitting,’ Dekker said, indicating the old man with a nod of his head. ‘He came over here to give off to Stowe. When he saw him on the ground, he thought he was sleeping and started sounding the air horn in his ear until he realised what had happened. Then he kept blowing the horn to alert us.’
‘I don’t want even to imagine how Mr Kayn is going to react when he finds out Stowe was murdered Where the hell were your men, Dekker? How could this have happened?’
‘They must have been looking out beyond the canyon, as I ordered. There are only three of them covering a very large terrain on a moonless night. They were doing all they could.’
‘Which is not much,’ Russell said, pointing at the body.
‘Russell, I told you. It is insane coming to this place with only six men. At a push, we have three men doing four-hour guard duty. But to cover a hostile zone like this, we really need at least twenty. So don’t blame me.’
‘That’s out of the question. You know what would happen if the Jordanian government-’
‘Will you two stop arguing!’ The professor had got up, the blanket hanging from his shoulders. His voice shook with anger. ‘One of my assistants is dead. I sent him here. Will you please stop blaming each other?’
Russell went silent. To Andrea’s surprise, so did Dekker, although he saved face by turning to Dr Harel.
‘Can you tell us anything else?’
‘I imagine he was killed up there and then he slid down the incline, given the rocks that came down with him.’
‘You imagine?’ Russell said, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m not a forensic pathologist, just an ordinary physician who specialises in combat medicine. I’m certainly not qualified to analyse a crime scene. In any case, I don’t think you’re going to find footprints or any other clues with the mixture of sand and rock we have out here.’
‘Do you know if Erling had any enemies, Professor?’ said Dekker.
‘He didn’t get on with David Pappas. I was responsible for the rivalry between them.’
‘Did you ever see them argue?’
‘Many times, but they never came to blows.’ Forrester paused and then shook his finger in Dekker’s face. ‘Wait a minute. You’re not suggesting that one of my assistants did this, are you?’
Meanwhile, Andrea had been observing Stowe Erling’s body with a mixture of shock and disbelief. She wanted to walk over into the circle of lamps and pull on his ponytail to show that he wasn’t dead, that it was just a sick joke of the professor’s. She understood the gravity of the situation only when she saw the frail old man shaking his finger in the gigantic Dekker’s face. At that point the secret that she had been withholding for two days cracked like a dam from the pressure.
‘Mr Dekker.’
The South African turned to her, his expression clearly not friendly.
‘Ms Otero, Schopenhauer said that the first encounter with a face makes a lasting impression on us. For the time being I’ve had enough of your face – understood?’
‘I don’t even know why you’re here, nobody asked you to come,’ added Russell. ‘This story is not for publication. Go back to the camp.’
The reporter took a step back, but held the gaze of both the mercenary and the young executive. Ignoring Fowler’s advice, Andrea decided to spit it out.
‘I’m not leaving. It’s possible that this man’s death is my fault.’
Dekker came so close to her that Andrea could feel the dry heat from his skin.
‘Speak up.’
‘When we arrived at the canyon, I thought I saw someone on top of that cliff.’
‘What? And it didn’t occur to you to say anything?’
‘I didn’t give it much importance at the time. I’m sorry.’
‘Terrific, you’re sorry. That makes everything all right then. Fuck!’
Russell was shaking his head, amazed. Dekker scratched the scar on his face, trying to take in what he had just heard. Harel and the professor were looking at Andrea in disbelief. The only one who reacted was Kyra Larson, who pushed Forrester aside, rushed over to Andrea, and slapped her.
‘Bitch!’
Andrea was so stunned that she didn’t know what to do. Then, seeing the anguish on Kyra’s face, she understood and lowered her arms.
I’m sorry. Forgive me.
‘Bitch,’ the archaeologist repeated, throwing herself on Andrea and pummelling her face and chest. ‘You could have told everyone that we were being watched. Don’t you know what we’re looking for? Don’t you realise how it affects us all?’
Harel and Dekker grabbed Larsen by the arms and pulled her back.
‘He was my friend,’ she mumbled, moving away slightly.
At that moment David Pappas arrived at the scene. He had been running and sweat was pouring from him. It was obvious he had fallen at least once because there was sand on his face and glasses.
‘Professor! Professor Forrester!’
‘What is it, David?’
‘The data. Stowe’s data,’ Pappas said, bending over and leaning on his knees to catch his breath.
The professor made a dismissive gesture.
Contract with God aka The Moses Expedition Page 15
