Pharaoh

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because if anyone finds out that you can get under the Al-Aqsa Mosque from here, we’ll have to contend with our own fundamentalist elements. They’d like nothing better than to be able to eliminate all the competition from the area around the Temple.’

  ‘We have taken all the usual precautions,’ answered Allon, ‘but there’s always the chance of some information leaking out.’

  Avner changed the subject. ‘What did you find in the crypt?’

  ‘Not much yet, but it is a fairly large area. All we did was make a brief preliminary survey. We felt it was more important to continue with the tunnel.’

  ‘Is it over this way?’ asked Avner, pointing to the opening that led into the mountain.

  ‘Just follow me,’ said Allon. ‘This tunnel is incredible. We’ve already explored about half a mile of its length.’

  Allon lit a flare, which bathed a long stretch of the tunnel in brilliant light, and set off at an easy pace so his companions would have no trouble keeping up. The walls were rough but regular and you could actually count the grooves left by the ancient picks.

  ‘I have the impression that work on this tunnel was done in separate stages during different historical periods. The central part is a mine shaft that was probably dug out by the Babylonians during the first siege in an attempt to collapse the city walls. Later on, the initial section we are presently walking through was connected to it, probably as part of a countermining operation on the part of the besieged city dwellers.

  ‘The final section was probably excavated later to open up a secret escape route, leading out beyond the enemy lines in case of a siege. That graffiti we saw at the start probably indicated a section that led out to the Kidron Valley.

  ‘At any rate, as far as we can tell, this route was known only to the Temple priests. We know that in 586 bc, King Zedekiah had a breach made in the wall by the pool of Siloah so he could escape with his family and the royal guards, so he must not have been aware of this passageway. But the sacred vessels of the Temple were almost certainly carried to safety through this tunnel.’

  ‘Listen,’ said Avner, almost reluctantly, ‘is it also possible that the Ark of the Covenant was carried through this passage?’

  Allon smiled. ‘My dear friend, I’m afraid the Ark has been no more than a legend for many, many centuries. But I can’t exclude anything. If you want to know what I think, though,’ he continued, ‘I hope it never turns up, assuming that it does exist. Can you imagine what an explosion of fanaticism something like that would stir up?’

  ‘I know,’ sighed Avner, ‘but a miracle is exactly what we need right now

  Allon didn’t respond; he just continued walking, bending down when he came to a low place in the ceiling. After about half an hour, they stopped at a spot that had recently been widened by the archaeologists and led up to what appeared to be the base of a ramp.

  ‘Just where are we, exactly?’ asked Avner.

  Allon took a map out of his inside jacket pocket and pointed to a spot in the direction of Bethlehem. ‘Right here.’

  Avner took out a military goniometric relief map. It too showed a spot that had been marked with a little circle.

  ‘The two points are only about 300 metres apart, at the most,’ commented Ferrario.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Avner.

  ‘What are you guys talking about?’ asked Allon.

  ‘Look,’ said Avner, raising his eyes to the roof of the tunnel. ‘How far is it from here to the surface?’

  ‘Not very. I’d say three or maybe five metres at the most. That’s almost certainly the ramp that leads to the surface,’ he explained, pointing to the base of the wall. Then he added, ‘Here,

  on this enlarged detail we have marked the place where the ramp probably ends. It should be directly under the floor of one of the houses in this neighbourhood.’

  Avner, pretending to take notes on a pad, passed a slip of paper to Ferrario. It said, ‘Get a commando squad ready for action immediately. In plain clothes. They mustn’t be noticed by anyone. Have them ready to go into action in the next couple of hours.’

  Ferrario nodded his head in affirmation, saying, ‘If you have no further need of me, Mr Cohen, I have some urgent business to take care of. I’ll see you later.’ He turned around and retraced his steps towards the mouth of the tunnel.

  Avner continued behind Allon. ‘I have another question,’ he said.

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘Where was Nebuchadnezzar’s camp during the siege of 586?’

  ‘Well, there are two schools of thought regarding that particular point,’ the archaeologist began, assuming a rather annoyingly pedantic tone.

  ‘What’s your opinion, Allon?’

  ‘More or less, right here,’ he said, indicating a point on the map.

  ‘Just as I thought,’ exclaimed Avner, almost shouting. ‘What a God-damned megalomaniac!’

  ‘I beg your pardon!’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean you. I was just thinking about someone I know.’

  The place Allon had pointed to happened to be exceedingly near the spot on the military relief map that they had looked at a few moments before. It marked the location of the suspicious radio signal that had been discovered by Ferrario and his men.

  ‘Look, Professor,’ Avner began again, ‘I have to ask an enormous favour of you, even though I realize how tired you must be. I’ll send you more men to work under your supervision. I need you to clear this ramp by tomorrow evening. I can’t tell you why, because I too am acting on orders from my superiors, but at times like this we have to explore all our options.’

  ‘I understand perfectly,’ said Allon. ‘I’ll do what is humanly possible.’

  Avner came back out of the tunnel and went back to headquarters, where General Yehudai was keeping track of all new developments in the field in real time on his three-dimensional model. The American satellite had just located a suspicious installation about 150 miles east of the River Jordan.

  ‘What could it be?’ asked Avner.

  ‘It looks like a radio transmitter to me and the source we have located between here and Bethlehem could be a relay station.’

  ‘Well, what’s the sense of all that?’

  ‘These guys don’t have any satellite access, so they have to rely on ground-based relay stations. We noticed it during the advance of the sandstorm. These two points form a perfect equilateral triangle with our nuclear base at Beersheba. They are probably getting ready to attack it.’

  ‘Destroy the transmitter on the other side of the Jordan. It could be a missile launching pad, as well.’

  ‘We did destroy it. But it’s reappeared. It’s probably a mobile unit that can slip back into an underground bunker. And the radio source near Bethlehem is probably capable of directing a missile attack on the capital.’

  ‘Jerusalem? They wouldn’t dare. It’s a holy city for them as well.’

  ‘They wouldn’t dare, you say? Remember how Nebuchadnezzar emptied the city of its inhabitants. These guys could do the same thing using different means . . . Gas, for instance.’

  Avner nodded glumly.

  ‘What did you find out from your archaeologist?’ asked Yehudai.

  ‘Something very interesting. How to get within metres of the Bethlehem transmitter without crossing a mile of high-risk area infested by thousands of Hamas snipers.’

  ‘That’s very good news.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll be able to report something even better in a few hours, if I’m right, but I’d rather not discuss it for now. How’s our offensive coming along?’

  Yehudai pointed to the zones on the three-dimensional model in which his divisions were engaged in battle. ‘The initial thrust is beginning to flag, I’m afraid. We’re already having to ration fuel and will soon be forced to ration munitions, as well. In a few more hours I’ll know if it’s time to order Beersheba to initiate launch procedures on our Gabriel missiles, arming them with nu
clear warheads before it’s too late.’

  Avner lowered his head. ‘I’ll also be putting my plan into action by tonight. I’ll keep you posted.’

  He left general headquarters and had the driver take him to the King David Hotel to have a drink and sort out his thoughts before returning home. He was served a beer and lit up a cigarette. Just a few more hours and then he would know if his hunch was right, if his detective’s nose was still any good. He stayed at the hotel a long time, lost in thought, considering every angle. When he raised his head he found Ferrario standing in front of him: he was in combat gear, flourishing the stars designating the rank of second lieutenant and a holstered pistol at his hip.

  ‘I have taken care of everything, sir. The commando squad is ready and waiting for further orders.’

  ‘And just where do you think you’re going in that get-up?’ Avner asked.

  ‘With your permission, sir, to the front. I have submitted a request to be transferred to a fighting unit.’

  ‘No more Armani for you?’

  ‘No, sir. I’m afraid the army quartermaster doesn’t shop in the same places as me.’

  ‘And just when did you make this request to leave my unit?’

  ‘I’m asking you now, sir. Lots of men are dying on the front, even as we speak, to keep the enemy away from the gates of Jerusalem. I just want to be able to do my part.’

  ‘You’re already doing precisely that, Ferrario. And very well, I might add.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, but it’s not enough for me any more. By now, you can manage perfectly well without me. Please, grant me this transfer, sir.’

  ‘You’re mad. You could have gone home after getting your degree, but instead you wanted to experience the thrill of this job, and now you want to go to the front of all places! It will certainly be more exciting. I only hope you realize that it’s going to be very dangerous too.’

  ‘I realize that, sir.’

  ‘Don’t you miss Italy?’

  ‘I miss it a lot. It’s the most beautiful place in the world and it’s where I was born.’

  ‘Well, then . . .’

  ‘Israel is my spiritual homeland and Jerusalem is a heavenly star, sir.’

  Avner thought about Ras Udash and of the secret that he had buried beneath a mountain of bodies and would have liked to scream, ‘None of it’s true, none of it!’ Instead, he replied, ‘I’ll be sorry to lose you, but if that’s your decision I won’t stand in your way. Good luck, son. Just take care of your arse out there. If something happens to you, a lot of pretty girls back there in Italy are going to be awfully upset with me.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can, sir. And, by the way, you should stop smoking if you can. It’s bad for your health.’ Then, snapping to attention, he gave his superior a smart salute, adding, ‘It’s been an honour serving with you, Mr Avner.’ Finally, executing a swift about-turn, he took his leave.

  Observing him as he moved away, his gait slightly encumbered by the heavy army boots, Avner couldn’t help but think what an elegant figure Italians always managed to cut, even if dressed in tatters. He dropped his head to watch the ash of his cigarette as it slowly burned away.

  BLAKE’S VACANT STARE seemed to be watching the waves rippling under the cockpit.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Sarah. ‘I never could have imagined that he would—’

  ‘It was his choice. He decided to sacrifice himself to save us. But . . . the papyrus was the first thing I thought of, not Selim. I’m no better than Olsen, Sarah. I’m a goddamned egotistical bastard.’

  ‘There are times when instinct prevails over everything else. Maybe one day we’ll know why things were meant to happen this way.’

  Blake dropped the subject and the roar of the engines was the only sound to be heard for a long while.

  ‘Would you have really done it?’ asked Sarah suddenly, to break that unbearable silence.

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘Killed me if I hadn’t opened the door.’

  ‘I doubt it. Besides, both of my wrists are broken: I would have had to bite you to death.’

  ‘But there was definitely murder in your eyes.’

  ‘Well, that’s what made you open the door. So I guess it served its purpose.’

  ‘How do you feel now?’

  ‘The painkillers are starting to take effect. Not too bad. But you look pale. What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m just exhausted, that’s all . . . Will?’

  ‘Yes.’

  What did the last part of the inscription on the sarcophagus at Ras Udash say?’

  ‘It said, “Whoever profanes this tomb shall have his bones crushed and see the earth run red with the blood of his loved ones.” ’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you tell me before?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to upset you. You see, it’s precisely what’s happening to me. I’ve already broken some bones and—’

  ‘I’m not upset, William Blake. It’s just a coincidence.’

  ‘That’s right. That’s the way I look at it too.’

  They remained silent for a while, then Sarah continued, ‘Is that all?’

  ‘No,’ said Blake. ‘It said, “And may this occur until the sun sets in the East.” ’

  Sarah looked at him with an uneasy glimmer in her eye. ‘In other words, forever. As far as curses go, this one is truly unrelenting. The sun never sets in the east.’

  ‘Don’t think about it,’ said Blake. ‘It’s just a lot of ancient hocus-pocus.’

  Then he fell silent, overcome by an oppressive drowsiness, but as he nodded off he noticed how the dawn light reflected in the Plexiglas dome began to darken. He turned around and saw the sun disappear slowly behind the eastern horizon. The Falcon hadn’t yet reached its cruising altitude, but it was still faster than the reverse motion of the earth.

  He looked at Sarah with a complacent smile and said, ‘Sometimes anything can happen.’ Then, leaning back, he dozed off.

  An hour later he was jolted out of his slumber as the aeroplane encountered some turbulence. Turning towards his companion, he asked, ‘How’s it going?’

  She looked deathly pale and was dripping with sweat. He noticed a pool of blood on the floor of the cabin.

  ‘My God . . .’ he exclaimed. ‘What happened? Why did you let me sleep?’

  ‘It happened when I opened the door . . . A piece of shrapnel hit me in the left shoulder.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus!’ Blake exclaimed. ‘This is terrible . . . But why didn’t you wake me? Come here,’ he coaxed, helping her to her feet. ‘Sit down in my seat. I need some room to work on your arm.’ Blake couldn’t stop fretting as he fussed with her wound and continued to mutter mechanically, ‘What a mess . . . Damn, damn, damn

  He found some bandages and wrapped his own wrists as well as he could. Then he took the scalpel out of his pocket and opened the sleeve of her shirt, slowly loosening the tourniquet she’d applied herself, restoring a bit of blood flow to the swollen, livid arm. He disinfected the wound and then applied a gauze dressing and wrapped it with strips of adhesive bandage. Drying her forehead, he insisted she drink as much water as she could.

  They continued flying in the dark for hours on automatic pilot. Every once in a while, Blake towelled off her forehead and face, wetting her lips with a little orange juice he found in the galley.

  Sarah looked up at him with shiny, fever-weary eyes. ‘I might pass out at any time,’ she murmured. ‘I want to teach you the procedure for sending a mayday signal and for jumping out of the plane with a parachute. I don’t think I’ve got enough time, though, to teach you how to land this contraption.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘If you’re smart, buster, you’ll forget about me. If you try to jump dragging all my dead weight along with you, you’ll ruin your chances as well’

  ‘Negative, Commander,’ said Blake. ‘I just don’t have any fun without you, sweetheart. It’s either both of us or forget it.’

  ‘You damn
ed stubborn fool. So you’re going to blow it after all, after everything we’ve done to make it this far.’ From somewhere she found the energy to crack a joke. ‘Do you realize this could be considered mutiny?’

  ‘I’ll gladly let them court-martial me as soon as we get this thing landed. Until then, I’m not budging, not an inch.’

  He insisted that she drink some more water and somehow managed to keep her awake until the instruments had finally locked in on the control tower at La Guardia airport in New York.

  ‘Well, maybe we’ve made it, after all,’ Sarah managed to whisper. ‘Now listen carefully. You’ve got to convince the tower to let us land and transmit your message to the proper authorities. I’ve done all I could, now it’s up to you. You have to give it all you’ve got.’

  CAPTAIN MCBAIN of the United States Marine Corps stopped his car in front of the Pentagon and had a guard escort him to the office of General Hooker. ‘General, sir,’ he said, a bit out of breath, ‘tower control at La Guardia in New York has put us in radio contact with an unknown aircraft that has wounded aboard, but insists on transmitting an absolute top priority message to us. I think it has something to do with the war and the threat of terrorism we are currently dealing with.’ He handed him a file he had been carrying under his arm.

  Hooker took the dossier and began thumbing through it. ‘Another visionary or clairvoyant, I assume?’

  ‘Actually, sir, these guys are aware of the threat we are facing, even though they don’t know the details. Evidently they happened to get into the memory of some computer while surfing the Internet and, noticing a suspicious file, they managed to open it.

  ‘They realized that they were dealing with some sort of very sophisticated military program and figured it might have something to do with the situation that has been paralysing our entire system of military response.’

  Hooker raised his head from the text. Are you telling me these people have managed to do something our combined military intelligence agencies have failed to do? Don’t you smell something just a tad fishy about all this, Captain? If what they say is true, how did they manage to break through the security system of such a powerful program and how did they figure out the access code? If they are on our side, we’d know who they are. But if they’re not on our side, then who in the hell’s side are they on?’