Solomon's Gold

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Solomon's Gold Page 11

by Alex Lukeman


  Selena shrugged. "It's possible."

  "The writing you translated was water and cave, right?"

  "Right."

  "How many places are there like that in Israel?"

  "There are several, but most of them are of no particular significance. Since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, there aren't many unexplored caves where something could be hidden. Ein Gedi seemed like the best bet, especially if we consider the biblical reference to David coming here. There are still a few caves high up in the mountains near here that are difficult to get to and haven't been explored. There may even be a few no one knows about."

  "Two days isn't much time to find the right one," Nick said. "We need more information."

  Selena took out her phone and worked her thumbs over the keys.

  "There's an archaeological society in town. They should have records identifying the caves that have already been examined. They might have aerial shots of the area."

  "Good idea. We'll leave when our vehicle gets here."

  CHAPTER 30

  Stephanie sat down at her console and took out the picture she'd found in Miriam's apartment. She placed it on the console, along with the locket, the blank pad she'd taken from the drawer by Miriam's couch, and the slip of paper with the phone number written on it that she'd found in Miriam's jacket pocket.

  "Hello, Freddie."

  Hello, Stephanie. How are you today?

  "I'm fine Freddie. How are you?"

  I am always the same, Stephanie. Shall we play a game?

  "Not right now, Freddie, but I do have a challenge for you."

  Stephanie placed the photograph in a scanner.

  "Tell me what you see."

  Scanning.

  Stephanie waited.

  The picture is of an older couple.

  "I know that, Freddie. You see the sign in the background, behind the two people?"

  Of course, Stephanie.

  "Can you read the writing on it?"

  It is part of a phrase identifying the proprietor as a vendor of shoes. It is written in Farsi.

  "Can you tell me where the shop is located?"

  Processing.

  As Freddie worked on her question, Stephanie looked at the blank pad, then set it down on the surface of the console. She wasn't sure why she'd taken it. Freddie's electronic voice interrupted her thoughts.

  The shop is located in the city of Qom, near the intersection of Kargar Boulevard and 3 Khordad Street.

  "That's fantastic, Freddie. Thank you."

  Stephanie picked up the slip of paper with the phone number on it.

  "I'm going to read off a phone number. I'd like to know whose phone it is."

  She read the numbers. There was a brief pause.

  The number is for the Falafel Palace on E. 98th St. in New York City. We do take out and guarantee fresh ingredients daily. Come to the Falafel Palace for a genuine Middle Eastern experience.

  Stephanie groaned. "Thank you, Freddie. That was very complete."

  Would you like to hear the menu?

  "No, that's fine, Freddie."

  Would you like me to look up the number written on the pad in front of you?

  Steph looked down at the blank pad in front of her. "What number?"

  The number written on the pad in front of you.

  "I don't see any number, Freddie."

  That is because you do not have my scanning abilities, Stephanie. The number was written on the previous piece of paper on the pad. I am reading the impression left behind.

  Steph couldn't be sure, but Freddie almost sounded smug.

  "Yes, Freddie, I would like to know about this number. Please print it for me."

  Processing.

  The printer chattered and spit out a paper printed with a phone number.

  The number is assigned to an unregistered cell phone. Would you like me to call it?

  "No, Freddie, please do not call it. I need to speak with Elizabeth first."

  Director Harker is in her office upstairs.

  Steph got up. "I'm going up there now. Meanwhile, I'd like you to look into someone's history. Her records here in the United States will show her as a woman named Miriam Golding. However, I'm sure that's not her real name. It's possible that she's Iranian. That couple in the picture may be her parents or grandparents."

  Stephanie told Freddie where Miriam had lived and worked in New York.

  Processing.

  Elizabeth was getting a cup from the coffee station when Stephanie came into her office.

  "Want a cup?"

  "Please."

  Elizabeth poured a second cup and handed it over.

  "Anything on what you found in New York?"

  Elizabeth sat down behind her desk and blew on the coffee. Steam rose from the cup. Stephanie sat on the couch opposite.

  "I ran everything by Freddie. Aside from liking falafel, Friedman's assistant was likely from Iran. The picture I found shows an older couple on a street in Qom. I think it must be a picture of her grandparents."

  "Iranian. That figures. I talked with the deputy director of Shin Bet. One of the men who came after the team at Mount Karkom has been identified as a member of the Revolutionary Guard. It's a safe bet his friends were from the same club, and that Miriam was as well."

  "That creates a problem, doesn't it?" Steph said. "Why would someone who hates everything Jewish be working in the Jewish Museum in New York?"

  "Good question," Elizabeth said.

  I can offer a possible answer.

  The computer voice boomed from the speaker. Elizabeth jumped and spilled coffee on her skirt.

  She wiped at the spill with a tissue. "Freddie, turn down the damn volume."

  I apologize, Director.

  "Freddie, I thought you were looking into Miriam's background?" Stephanie said.

  I am. That requires only a small part of my processing capability. I believe I have identified the woman you know as Miriam Golding.

  "That was fast. How were you able to do that?"

  After the Shah was deposed and Khomenei consolidated power, all citizens of Iran were eventually photographed and entered into a national database. I searched their database and identified the people in the photograph as Hamid and Maryam Khorosani. They had a daughter named Nasrin. She married Masoud Farshid. The offspring of that union is a daughter named Ayala. The girl was noticed early on because of her intellect and was chosen for service to the state. Ayala Farshid and Miriam Golding are the same person.

  "Very good," Elizabeth said. "Why do you think she was working at the Jewish Museum?"

  There would be no advantage to placing an Iranian agent in the Jewish Museum unless it was for the purpose of obtaining information.

  "What kind of information?"

  She may have been gathering information about the upcoming Jewish World Conference in New York.

  Elizabeth sat up straight in her chair. "That conference is a major event. The prime minister of Israel will be there. President Corrigan is going to address the conference and announce a new initiative for peace in the Middle East."

  Alan Friedman was one of the principal organizers.

  "That means Friedman knew all the details," Stephanie said. "Where the delegates will stay, the speaking schedule, everything. As his PA, Miriam would have known everything Friedman did. But why would she care?"

  "There can only be one reason," Elizabeth said.

  "Shit," Stephanie said. "They're planning an attack on the conference."

  That is the logical conclusion, Freddie said.

  "When does the conference take place?" Stephanie asked.

  "Next week," Elizabeth said.

  "Security has to be tight."

  "Yes, but you and I both know there's always a way through a security cordon."

  Elizabeth thought about the nightmare a terrorist attack on the conference would create.

  "I don't think they'd be able to get a bomb in there. Not with the dogs and detector
s," Stephanie said.

  "Maybe not, but there are a lot of ways to make trouble."

  "There's something else. I took what I thought was a blank notepad from Miriam's apartment. At the time I wasn't sure why, it just seemed the right thing to do. I had it on the console downstairs. Freddie saw a number on the pad."

  My ability to scan on different frequencies is superior to human vision.

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Yes, Freddie."

  Stephanie, you made a movement of the eyes. I have observed this same movement in others. What is the meaning of the gesture?

  "It's a little difficult to explain, Freddie. I'll talk with you about it later. For the moment, please do not interrupt."

  Of course, Stephanie.

  "Freddie says the number is for an unregistered cell phone," Steph said.

  "A burner? Did you try and call it?"

  "No. If Miriam was part of a terrorist cell, that number could lead us to it. Or at least someone who's in it."

  "If I play this by the book, I should give the number and what we've learned to the FBI and let them run with it."

  "Are you sure you want to do that?" Stephanie asked. "President Corrigan has made it clear he's looking for a new director. The feds are in disarray right now. I don't think much is getting done over there. Langley might be a better choice."

  "You're right, Langley's a better choice. I'll give Clarence a call."

  "How are you two getting along?"

  The question took Elizabeth by surprise.

  "Well enough. As a matter of fact, we're thinking of taking a long weekend together, someplace warm."

  "Elizabeth, that's great."

  "Don't plan the engagement yet, Steph. It's early days."

  "I still think it's great."

  "Meanwhile, we need to see who's on the other end of that phone."

  "I wish everyone was back," Steph said. "If we're right about an attack, they should be here."

  "Nick thinks the Israelis are losing patience with him. I'd be surprised if they aren't back by the time the conference is scheduled."

  "I hope we're wrong."

  "So do I," Elizabeth said, "but we have to assume differently. I'm going to talk with Clarence and set up a meeting with the President."

  CHAPTER 31

  At the Archaeological Society in Ein Gedi, Nick found a survey of the caves that had been identified and explored in the nearby mountains. What he didn't find was any reference to caves that had not been examined.

  "There's no point in looking at caves that have already been gone through," Nick said.

  "Be nice if we had a map of every cave up there," Ronnie said.

  Selena had been talking to the clerk in charge of the records. She came over and sat down with them.

  "This might help. It's an aerial shot. You can see the access road that leads to the area we're interested in. It's not much better than a dirt track. From there we have to climb."

  The photograph was marked with numbers at various locations. The terrain was rugged, all sharp peaks and narrow canyons.

  "What do the numbers in white mean?" Lamont asked.

  "Those are the caves that have been explored," Selena said.

  "And these two? The ones marked in black?"

  "Those are the ones we have to look at. They're difficult to reach, which is why they haven't been examined. The clerk told me the society ran out of money before they could get to them. Not much of interest has been found in the others, so it hasn't been a priority."

  "That's where we have to look," Nick said.

  "From the looks of that photograph, you have to be part mountain goat to reach them," Lamont said.

  Selena said, "I've done a lot of climbing and this looks difficult."

  "Yeah, it does," Ronnie said.

  Selena continued. "I'd estimate most of a day to reach the cave. We'll lose time putting together climbing gear. Our forty-eight hours is going to run out before we can get up there."

  "Maybe not," Nick said. He studied the photograph. "The top of the mountain has a good-sized flat area. Climbing to those caves would be hard, but going down would be a different story. If we land on top, we can rappel down to the caves. The Israelis could pick us up at the bottom."

  "We'd need a helicopter," Ronnie said.

  "I think I can get Herzog to provide one. If we don't find anything, he's got the excuse he needs to send us home."

  "That would work," Selena said.

  "I'll give him a call," Nick said.

  The next morning they were in an Israeli chopper heading for the top of the mountain. Herzog had provided them with ropes, gloves, and helmets, courtesy of the IDF.

  They had carabiners and friction devices called descenders. The plan was to rappel from the cliff face, using the devices to control the descent. They had climbing harnesses to secure everything. Aside from providing a degree of safety, harnesses made a hard climb or descent a lot easier. They had a bag of nuts and hexes, anchoring devices they could wedge into cracks in the cliff face.

  Selena had done a lot of climbing in civilian life. The others had gone through extensive mountain training in the military. Getting down from the cave would be difficult and physically demanding. It had been a long time since Nick had taken on a challenge just because it was difficult. He wasn't looking forward to this one.

  The chopper hovered over the flat area. They jumped onto the top of the mountain. The helicopter lifted and banked, throwing up a thick cloud of gray dust. They watched it head back toward Ein Gedi.

  The day was clear, the sun pleasantly warm. The view from the top of the mountain was spectacular. To the west lay Israel, the settlement of Ein Gedi and the desert stretching beyond. To the east, they looked out over the Dead Sea and Jordan.

  "Nice view," Ronnie said.

  "Moses would've liked it," Lamont said.

  "Yeah," Nick said. "Let's get going. We've only got today."

  They walked over to the edge. A fresh rope anchored around a large boulder dropped over the side of the mountain. They were about a hundred feet above the first cave.

  "Looks like somebody had the same idea as us," Ronnie said.

  "The Iranians," Nick said. "It has to be them."

  "How did they get up here without being spotted by the Israelis?" Lamont asked.

  "How the hell do I know?"

  "They could've used an ultralight," Selena said. "There's enough room to land. You wouldn't need much for takeoff, at this height."

  "That would work," Ronnie said. "It would be tough to spot on radar."

  Selena said, "If there was anything in those caves, they wouldn't have had time to get it out without being spotted."

  "Maybe someone's still here," Ronnie said.

  "Only one way to find out," Nick said.

  They ignored the hanging rope and anchored their own around the same boulder. They roped together, adjusted their gear, and began the descent. The side of the mountain was almost sheer, a jagged sheet of sharp rock and hard edges. Within a few minutes, Nick felt his legs and arms warming to the physical exertion.

  The trick with rappelling was to control the speed of descent and not get greedy about making distance. It wasn't something to try without strong legs and arms. Nick went first, followed by Selena and Lamont. Ronnie brought up the rear. The Iranian rope paralleled their own. After a few minutes, they reached the first cave.

  A narrow ledge fronted the cave, big enough to stand on. Nick had to stoop to get inside. He shone his flashlight about. The cave was no more than ten feet deep and empty. Selena crouched and entered the cave after him.

  "I don't see a thing," Nick said.

  Selena moved her light over the walls and ceiling. "I don't either. No marks, nothing to indicate anybody was ever here."

  "Except these," Nick said.

  He pointed down. Footprints showed in thick dust on the floor of the cave.

  "Looks like one man."

  "If there was anything here, he took i
t with him."

  "I don't think there was," Nick said.

  They moved back out into the light, where Ronnie and Lamont waited.

  "Nothing," Nick said.

  Ronnie drove pitons into the cliff face to anchor the rope for the next part of the descent.

  He gave the rope an experimental tug. "That ought to hold us."

  "Right," Nick said.

  He threaded the rope through his descender and started down. He focused on the rock face, concentrating on keeping his speed even and watching where his feet were going to land. Every fifty feet or so he drove in another anchor. Above him, Selena dislodged a rock the size of a baseball that breezed by his helmet.

  "Sorry," she called.

  They descended another five hundred feet before they reached the level of the second cave. It was off to the right.

  "I see the cave. It's got a wide ledge in front of it. We have to traverse right. Hang in there."

  "Can't do much else," Lamont yelled.

  Nick drove a nut into a crack to his right. The nut was a simple device, a shaped piece of metal attached to a loop of wire. He tugged on it to make sure it was set, attached a carabiner to the loop, and moved to the right. Every few feet he set another nut until he reached the ledge in front of the cave. He drove a final anchor into the rock wall.

  "I'm on the ledge," he called up.

  Selena reached the level of the cave and moved right as Nick had done, hooking onto the anchors he'd placed in the sheer face of the mountain. Next came Lamont. He swung easily across. The others moved back to give him room.

  Ronnie was almost to the ledge when the anchor he'd hooked onto gave way. The sudden strain when he dropped pulled a second nut from the wall, then a third. The next one in line held. Ronnie slammed hard against the cliff.

  When Ronnie fell, he pulled Lamont off his feet. He slid across the ledge. Nick and Selena held on to the rope with everything they had.

  Lamont was partway over the end of the ledge, chords of muscle standing out on his arms, his hands wrapped around the rope. Ronnie hung limp below, his head down, his arms and legs loose.

  "Ronnie," he yelled. "You all right?"

  There was no answer.

  CHAPTER 32

  They pulled Ronnie up to the ledge and over. A gash on the side of his head was bleeding. His skin was pale and he was unconscious, his breath labored.

 

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