The Solomon Scroll

by Alex Lukeman

  "Friends?"

  "Also because I put repellent on before we left."

  Diego just shook his head. Later they sat around the fire, quiet, looking into the flames. A thin column of smoke drifted into a night sky carpeted by stars. Selena broke the silence.

  "I wonder if we're going to find anything," she said.

  Nick got up and put more wood on the fire.

  "The satellite scan says something is up there on that mesa. Whatever it is, we'll find it."

  "Relics from the Temple would probably be made of gold. Even without that, the value in a religious sense is beyond price."

  "It's a problem, whatever we find." Nick sat down again. "Things from the Second Temple could touch off a firestorm in the Middle East. The Israelis would see it as the final proof of their right to claim Jerusalem. As if they really needed it."

  "The Arabs wouldn't like that," Ronnie said.

  "Don't forget about Solomon and Sheba," Selena said. "The Israelis, the Muslims and Christians will all stake a claim."

  "Sheba is important here," Lamont said. "If she's up there the Ethiopians aren't going to sit on the side and let anyone take her out of the country. Or anything else we find, for that matter."

  "Great," Diego said. "We find something, everyone with a religious agenda is going to want to grab it."

  "That's one way of putting it," Nick said.

  "Suppose we do find Solomon and Sheba hanging out together and sitting on a pile of gold," Diego said. "What happens then?"

  "I call Harker. She calls the president. It's his worry, not ours."

  "Yeah," Diego said. "But he's in Washington. It's a long way from there to here."

  Nick yawned. "Time to hit the rack. Who wants the first watch?"

  "I'll do it," Selena said.

  "Wake me in three hours."

  Twenty minutes later Selena was the only one still awake. She sat on a low flat stone with her back against one of the boulders. The rock gave off faint heat from the day's sun. Moonlight filled the canyon with ghostly light. It was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.

  It wasn't the first time she'd found herself sitting under a foreign sky filled with stars when she was on a mission. Up to now this mission had been like a glorified camping trip. The hard metal of the pistol pressing against her hip reminded her that it could explode into sudden violence without much warning.

  She thought about Solomon and the Temple he'd built to honor God, described in the Old Testament. The walls and floor had been covered with gold, she was sure. For some reason she remembered that the door had been framed in olive wood.

  Solomon's Temple had been destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE. It wasn't until the reign of Herod the Great that it had been rebuilt. It was said that when the Romans destroyed it for a second time, molten gold had run into the cracks of the pavement when it burned.

  No one knew what had happened to the legendary treasure of the Temple. Some accounts said it had been hidden beneath the ruins, others that it had been stolen by the Romans. It had all happened a long time ago, the events shrouded in the fog of time. Now she was sitting on a rock in one of the most remote places on earth, getting ready to look for something that had disappeared two thousand years ago. You could add another thousand years if you tossed in Solomon and Sheba.

  Whatever they found tomorrow, she felt the weight of that history. It was more than a fascination with archaeology and ancient artifacts. It was a sense of seeking something larger than herself, one of the great stories in the human narrative that affirmed the human connection to God.

  She shivered. It felt like there was a presence nearby, something watching and waiting. It was an odd, otherworldly feeling. She looked down the moonlit canyon. Nothing was looking back.

  My mind is playing tricks on me, she thought.

  Just the same, the feeling stayed with her for a long time.

  CHAPTER 43

  They stood some distance away from the foot of the mesa. Nick scanned the massive formation with binoculars, looking for a way up. The day was clear, the sun bright in a cloudless sky. The morning was still cool before the heat of day. The mesa was hundreds of feet high, formed of reddish stone streaked with lighter colored rock.

  "Looks like there's a goat track going up the side."

  Nick handed the binoculars to Ronnie.

  "You would need to be a goat to go up it," he said.

  Selena took the binoculars and studied the narrow track as it crawled up the side of the mesa. About two thirds of the way to the top it curved around the edge of the sheer rock wall, out of sight

  "I don't think that path is natural," she said. "Look where it curves around out of sight. There are steps cut into the rock."

  She handed the binoculars back to Nick. He focused on the spot.

  "I think you're right."

  "The tomb is up there," Selena said, "I know it is." Her voice was excited.

  "Something is, anyway."

  They found the beginning of the trail, crude steps cut into the side of the mesa. They were little more than depressions, rounded and treacherous, eroded by time and weather. Nick put his foot on the first one. Bits of rock crumbled away under his weight.

  "Been a long time since somebody went up these," he said.

  "We go slow, it should be all right," Diego said.

  "Stick close to the wall. I'll lead. Diego, you take our six."

  "Hey, this is a walk in the park. Nobody shooting at us."

  They headed up the side of the mesa. The ground fell away beneath them. Nick was used to heights but he knew better than to look down. He kept his eyes on where he put his feet. There were places where all that remained of the steps was a short slope of crumbling rock, a trap waiting to send one of them to certain death below.

  After what seemed like a long time they came to the spot they'd seen from below where the steps went around the side of the mesa. Around the curve the steps led to a wide, flat shelf shaded by a rock overhang. A dozen feet back from the edge was the outline of a cave, filled in with a wall of rock that blended in with the rest of the cliff face.

  "Got to be a reason for blocking off that cave," Diego said.

  "It must be the tomb," Selena said.

  "Only one way to find out." Nick laid his pack on the ground. He took a long drink from his water bottle and walked over to the sealed cave. He took out his knife and began digging into the packed dirt around the rocks.

  "Let's open it up."

  An hour later the rocks were piled to the side, revealing an ancient wooden door.

  They stood together looking at it.

  Diego looked up at the overhang. "No way you'd spot this from the air."

  "This might not be the tomb," Nick said. "It could be an old monastery. Either way, it's what the scan picked up."

  Lamont sat down and massaged his leg.

  "How's it holding up?"

  "Nothing to worry about. I thought you said we were going for a stroll."

  "We are," Nick said. "It's just a little more vertical than I'd figured."

  "I wouldn't want to try those steps in the rain," Selena said.

  "Or wind." Diego opened a bottle of water and drank.

  Nick activated the comm link.

  "Director, do you copy?"

  A click, hissing atmospherics. Harker's voice came through after the satellite delay.

  "5 x 5 Nick."

  "We've reached the objective. There's a door closing off a cave in the side of the mesa. It could be a tomb or something else. We haven't gone inside yet."

  "Good work."

  "Once we're inside, we'll be out of contact. No way a signal is getting through this rock."

  "Understood. Report back when you know what you've found."

  "Will do. Out."

  Nick looked at the ancient door. "Let's see if the King and Queen are receiving," he said.

  CHAPTER 44

  Nazar Al-Bayati was a man of many resources. One of
those resources was embedded in the heart of Israeli intelligence, a man who seemed to all outward appearances a Jew. In reality he was a Shia Muslim. Jibril was circumcised, something no Muslim would have permitted, the result of a childhood mishap that had required the simple operation. It had been a source of shame in his childhood. Now it was proof of his falsely proclaimed religion. He'd been raised on the border with Lebanon and recruited by Hezbollah in his teens by a man who saw the potential in his unfortunate accident.

  Jibril spoke fluent Hebrew and was a gifted actor, a survival skill he'd developed from an early age. He needed all his skills to conceal the hatred he felt for the Zionists.

  His co-workers knew him as Gabriel. Not everyone who worked at Mossad was a spy. Like any large bureaucratic institution most of its employees were office workers. Jibril's job was to make sure that the endless stream of paperwork churned out every day reached the right desks. He was a familiar sight, wheeling his cart around Mossad headquarters with classified files destined for one of the many offices.

  Even in a world of suspicious men, people like Jibril were invisible. He had become part of the daily environment, something taken for granted like electric lights or potted plants. Everyone was used to seeing him. If someone had been asked to describe him, they would've had to think about it.

  In Mossad HQ, a simple inter-office memo could contain valuable information. Everything Jibril discovered went to Al-Bayati, the man who had saved him from a life of poverty or martyrdom. The martyrdom might still come, but Jibril was untroubled by that. Death was a release and paradise waited for the faithful.

  He wheeled his cart into the office of the brigadier who served as liaison with the special ops units of the IDF. Coordinated operations with military units were funneled through him for authorization. Sooner or later, they all ended up in this room. Jibril thought about the man, a self-important cog in the vast Israeli intelligence network. The general was the sort of person who thought himself above the rules that applied to others, which was why he sometimes left files unattended on his desk. It was the kind of mistake that would have gotten a lesser employee in serious trouble. As it was, there were rumors he would soon be forced to retire.

  Word had reached Jibril that Al-Bayati wanted information on any operation in Western Saudi Arabia or the immediate vicinity. As he placed the day's memos on the general's desk, Jibril saw a file with the winged sword of the Duvdevan on the outer cover. He looked around. No one was watching. Jibril opened the folder. As soon as he started reading he realized that this was what his patron was looking for.

  Jibril took out his phone and began taking pictures of the file.

  CHAPTER 45

  The door into the cave was made of thick cedar, turned dark and dry and hard by the passage of time. Iron hinges held it fast in a heavy wooden frame. A pitted ring of black iron hung in the center, mounted on a back plate in the shape of a six pointed star.

  "There's the star again," Selena said.

  "It opens out," Ronnie said.

  Nick grasped the ring and pulled. Nothing happened.

  "Figures. Give me a hand, " Nick said.

  They both pulled on it. The door didn't move.

  "Try twisting the ring," Selena said. "Maybe it's a lock."

  Nick wrapped his hands around the ring and tried twisting it to the left.

  "Nothing."

  He turned it the other way. Something moved on the other side of the door and stopped.

  "It moved."

  He took out his Ka-bar, put the hilt through the opening and used it as an improvised lever. The ring turned with a harsh squeal of dry metal. Nick stepped back and sheathed the knife, took the ring in both hands and pulled. The heavy door scraped open.

  A stale odor of faded incense and dust drifted from the opening. Selena sneezed.

  They stood in the opening and Nick took out his flashlight. The halogen beam illuminated brilliant paintings in vibrant color on the walls of a large room.

  "Looks like nobody's home," Nick said, "Maybe this was a monastery."

  "Or a retreat."

  She swung her light around and stopped on a painting. "Look at that. That's St. George slaying the dragon. Look at those colors."

  They stepped inside. Diego played his light over the paintings.

  "Bunch of saints, too. There's Christ and Mary."

  "And the devil," Ronnie said. He pointed. "Not somebody I'd want to run into."

  The painting was a scene of hell. Walls of flame rose around suffering black faces and bodies. The central figure was a sharp toothed, winged creature with blood red lips and open mouth, painted in vivid blue. Wide, frightening eyes stared out at the observer. The devil looked as if he was about to step from the painting into the room. His arms were crossed around severed heads held close to his chest. A green and white snake wound around him. His legs were tied to one of his arms and he was chained to a rock. In the background, blue demons tortured agonized souls. It was a terrifying image, a grim warning of what waited for the sinner.

  Every part of the room was painted. The ceiling was decorated with crosses and circles. In the middle of the ceiling was the same six pointed star that had been chiseled on the stone they'd found in Saudi Arabia.

  "Must be the right place," Lamont said.

  "There's another room." Diego went to it and shone his light into the space. "Looks like someone might have slept in here. There are some old coverings on the floor. He pushed the rags aside with his foot. A cloud of dust rose into the air.

  Selena sneezed. "Probably a caretaker or guardian."

  Diego leaned over and picked up a large piece of paper.

  "It's part of an old newspaper. It's in Ethiopian and I can't read it."

  He handed the paper to Lamont.

  Lamont looked at the writing. "It's an article about Mussolini and the emperor Haile Selassie, dated April 30, 1936."

  "That's right before the emperor fled and Mussolini took Addis Ababa," Selena said.

  "Did Mussolini's troops come this way?" Nick asked.

  "They probably occupied Adigrat. Why?"

  "The Italian invasion could be the reason this place was sealed off. The Coptic church could have been worried the Italians would find what was in here."

  "If that's true, why didn't anyone come back and open it up after the war was over?"

  "I don't know. Maybe the people who knew about it died."

  "There's another opening over here," Ronnie said.

  He aimed his light into the darkness.

  "Steps going down."

  "You see any spiders?" Selena asked. "Webs?"

  "A couple of webs, old. I don't see any spiders, though."

  She turned to Nick. "Why do we always end up somewhere with spiders?"

  "We haven't seen any yet. Ronnie said the webs are old. It can't be as bad as California."

  "It better hadn't be. You go first."

  "What happened in California?" Diego asked.

  "Long story," Nick said. "This isn't a good time to talk about it."

  "There were spiders?"

  "You could say that. How about you go first?"

  "Why me?"

  "You're the new guy, remember?"

  "I don't like spiders. They had these big ugly bastards in Iraq."

  "You're still the new guy. Lead on."

  They started down the steps. The walls on either side of the stairway were covered with paintings. At the bottom of the steps the passage opened into a second room. There were more religious paintings, their colors bright as the day they'd been made. Aside from the paintings, the room was empty.

  "That's it?" Ronnie said. "An empty room?"

  "Not much to show for that climb up the side of the mesa," Lamont said.

  Selena said, "These paintings are different from the ones upstairs."

  Nick walked over to stand by her. "How so?"

  "Well for one thing, that's Sheba over there on the back wall." She pointed at a painting of a han
dsome black woman dressed in vivid colors. "That fancy headdress is a crown."

  Servants knelt around the figure, offering food and fruit. Sheba was looking at the next panel over. It showed a brown-skinned, white-bearded king with a look of compassion on his face, his right hand raised in blessing. His left hand held a scroll, two fingers pointing at the ground. He sat on a golden throne. A sword lay across his lap. Supplicants knelt before him.

  "I think that's Solomon," Selena said.

  "It could be."

  "Something's not right about this."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why would Ephram leave that map if this is all there is? Besides, these paintings weren't here when he was alive. They were done hundreds of years after he died. It doesn't make sense."

  "Maybe there was something here back then. If there was, it's gone now," Nick said.

  "There's another one of those stars over here." Lamont pointed. "It looks different."

  Selena went to the wall where Lamont stood. About two thirds of the way up was the six pointed star. Like the others, it had dots within the points. Unlike the others, it had symbols around it and was chiseled out of stone instead of being painted.

  "I wonder...it can't be that simple," Selena said.

  Nick gave her an odd look. "Wonder about what? What can't be simple?"

  "Reach up there and push against that star."

  "What are you thinking?"

  "Humor me. Just push it."

  Nick shrugged, reached up and pushed against the stone. It moved.

  There was a harsh, grinding sound and the wall with the paintings rose into the ceiling.

  CHAPTER 46

  Elizabeth was studying a report on Russian satellite surveillance when her secure line signaled a call.

  "Yes."

  "Director Harker?"

  "Speaking."

  "Please hold for the president."

  What now?

  "Good morning, Director."

  Elizabeth had known President Rice for years. He sounded stressed. That was nothing new. Today she sensed an undertone of annoyance.