Solomon's Gold

by Alex Lukeman

  "Not good enough."

  "You have been lucky, but all luck comes to an end, sooner or later. For you, it's sooner."

  Dalir held up his hand and wagged his finger back and forth at Nick.

  "I can see you're thinking of going for that pistol. I wouldn't advise it. You move, you die. Have I made myself clear?"

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Well, that's an interesting question," Dalir said. "It's rather awkward, you see. I could take you prisoner and interrogate you in a more convenient location. I really wish that were possible. I would enjoy seeing you beg for me to kill you. But I'm somewhat pressed for time and I wouldn't want to attract the attention of the Egyptians or the Jews. A large group is so much harder to conceal, don't you think?"

  "So you're going to kill us?"

  "Hmm. Let me think about it," Dalir said.

  He moved away from the opening. One of the rifles went with him. They could hear him giving orders.

  "He speaking in Farsi," Selena said. "He's Iranian."

  "What else is new?" Lamont said.

  He looked up at the rifles pointing at them. High above, the desert night sky was filled with brilliant stars. Nick heard a scraping sound as something heavy was dragged across the temple floor above them. Dalir appeared again at the opening.

  "Try to ration your light for as long as you can," he said. "It's the only thing that will keep the scorpions away. Their sting is filled with neurotoxins. I'm told it's quite painful and often lethal. Even anti-venom doesn't always work. Do you have any? No? Oh, well."

  "You bastard," Nick said.

  "What is it you Americans say? Something about sticks and stones? The next time anyone sees you, I don't think you'll have much to say."

  The muzzles of the rifles drew back. The sky disappeared as the opening was covered over. They heard Dalir laughing as he moved away.

  They stood in silence for a moment. Selena heard the clicking of claws scrabbling across the stone floor, somewhere between the boxes and statues.

  "We could move some of those chests and climb up," Ronnie said. "Build a stair."

  Nick shone his light up at the covered opening. "I make it about twenty feet."

  Lamont looked at the stone blocking the opening. "We might not be able to move that. He'd figure we'd try."

  "There must be another way," Selena said. "How did they get all this stuff in here? They didn't break through the floor, like we did."

  "You think there's an entrance somewhere?"

  "There has to be. All we have to do is find it."

  "These lights aren't going to last forever," Nick said. "Once the batteries fail..."

  He left the thought unfinished.

  "Then we'd better start looking," Selena said.

  Two scorpions scuttled across in front of them.

  "Those are deathstalkers," Selena said. "Rivka talked about them."

  She shone her light up on the ceiling. A half dozen scorpions hung there. She shuddered.

  "How the hell did we end up in the home of the scorpion lady?" Lamont said.

  "All in a day's work," Nick said.

  "This room isn't so big we can't find an entrance," Selena said.

  "Stay together," Nick said. "Watch out for the bugs. We'll try each wall, see if we can find a way out."

  Selena was having a hard time controlling her fear. Spiders were bad enough. Scorpions were somehow worse, and these were big. She kept looking up at the ceiling, watching for a scorpion that might fall.

  What if one gets in my hair?

  The thought sent a bad feeling through her body.

  They followed narrow aisles between the stacks of treasure. It wasn't long before they found out how the treasure had been moved into the room. A set of stone steps climbed the west wall to the temple floor above. The entrance was sealed. A jumble of human bones were piled at the foot of the steps.

  "They must've left these poor bastards in here when they sealed it up," Ronnie said.

  "Workmen," Nick said. "Probably slaves. They didn't want them talking."

  Lamont shone his torch at the ceiling where the steps ended.

  "How we going to get through that?"

  Nick reached into the pack and took out the lump of Semtex he'd salvaged from the cave.

  "Easy," he said.

  "You think those assholes are still out there?"

  "If they're in the area, they'll come running. Check your weapons."

  Nick kicked bones off the steps with his foot and climbed to the temple floor above. He stuck the plastic explosive against the ancient stone. He inserted the detonator, fixed a wire to it, and moved back down to the floor.

  "When this goes off, it might upset the bugs. Be careful."

  "Be nice if the Iranians are sitting right over it," Ronnie said.

  "Yeah, we should be that lucky. Ready?"

  Nick triggered the detonator. The explosion was shattering in the confined space. The force of the blast ripped through the room, sending up a cloud of dust thousands of years old. A stack of chests toppled and cracked open, sending waterfalls of coins and jewels cascading across the floor. Nick bent down and picked up a coin. A rush of cool air told them the way out was open.

  They ran toward the steps, coughing and choking on the dust, slipping on the coins under their feet. Selena heard a frantic clicking and scrabbling behind them. She turned to look. Hundreds of scorpions poured out of the darkness, coming toward them in a deadly stream.

  "Move!" she yelled.

  They scrambled up the narrow steps, through the opening blasted into the temple floor, and out into the night. They ran to one of the broad columns and stopped behind it, looking for Dalir and the Iranians. The moon cast faint, cool light over the ruins. Above them, a deep black sky blazed with the light of the stars. Scorpions exploded from the opening and scattered out into the desert.

  A shot chipped stone from the column. They dropped to the ground. More shots came from the direction of the beach, a football field's length away.

  "How many, you think?" Ronnie said.

  "Looks like three, maybe four, from the muzzle flashes," Lamont said. "I think they're near our boat."

  "Save your ammo," Nick said. "If we don't shoot and we stay low, they're going to have a hard time seeing where we are. Ronnie, you and Lamont go right. Selena, we'll go left. We'll flank them. A pincer movement."

  "Like a scorpion," Lamont said.

  "Don't you ever quit?" Ronnie said.

  "Go," Nick said.

  Selena crawled behind Nick, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She felt ten years younger, strong, invulnerable. It was a feeling she lived for, the high that came only in these life and death moments. Crawling over the Egyptian desert, a pistol in her hand, while people tried to kill her, she suddenly thought about the life growing inside her.

  Going to make a hell of a story to tell him. Him?

  There wasn't much cover except for tumbled pieces of stone and a few low rocks. Shots sounded to her right, where Lamont and Ronnie had engaged the Iranians. The Iranian boat was at the edge of the shore, not far from their zodiac. The man who'd identified himself as Dalir was climbing into it. Two men were pushing the boat out toward the water. Another was lying on the beach, firing three round bursts toward Ronnie and Lamont.

  "Cover me," Nick said.

  He stood and ran toward the beach. Selena began firing. Dalir started the engine. He saw Nick coming, drew a pistol, and fired. The bullet missed. Nick fired three quick rounds. Dalir screamed and collapsed back into the boat. The men who'd been pushing the boat brought their rifles up. They were silhouetted against the phosphorescent surf, visible in the light of the moon and the stars. The hard, flat sound of four pistols firing at once cracked the night open. One of the men fell back into the water. Bullets sent spurts of sand into the air by Nick's feet and ricocheted off the rocks. Something plucked at his pants.

  The slide on his pistol locked open. He dropped the magazine and reach
ed for another as the last Iranian took aim at him. A shot from Selena dropped him. The man fell into the water. His body floated face down, rocking in the movement of the surf.

  The night became quiet, except for the sound of the Red Sea lapping against the shore.

  Nick released the slide on his pistol. Sudden fatigue embraced him, the arms of an unfriendly lover. He reloaded and chambered a round. He decocked the Sig and holstered it. Then he waded into the surf and grasped the Iranian boat. It was sinking. Someone's bullets had gone through it. He looked inside. Dalir lay on his back, blood staining the water sloshing around the bottom of the boat. His eyes were open, still bright with the aftermath of life. Soon they would cloud over, but it would make no difference. He wasn't going to be looking at anything, ever again.

  That one's for you, Rivka.

  Nick let the raft go. It started to drift away with Dalir's body inside it. It wouldn't be long before it disappeared under the waves. He walked back to shore. The others gathered around him.

  "Our boat's toast," Lamont said. "Looks like the Iranians shot it up. Or maybe we did."

  "How's the arm?" Nick asked.

  "It's been better. I wouldn't mind a beer about now."

  "When we get back to Israel, I'll buy the beers."

  "Hope you got a deep pocket."

  Ronnie said, "What's next, Kemo Sabe?"

  "Now we start walking. It shouldn't take more than a few hours. Let's hope we make it back without getting caught."

  As it turned out, it was a false hope.

  CHAPTER 41

  It was hard to tell what President Corrigan was really thinking, but Elizabeth had no problem at all reading his Chief of Staff. Ellen Cartwright looked as if she were about to have a stroke.

  "Your team deliberately disobeyed specific orders from the Israeli authorities to back off. They violated Egyptian territory and damaged an important historical landmark. They destroyed the property of an Israeli businessman, and then killed four Iranian nationals. Now there's an armed standoff between Israeli and Egyptian forces at the site. You are in a world of deep shit, Director."

  Elizabeth had been listening to Cartwright rant for the last five minutes. She'd had enough.

  "If you really believe what you just said is important, you are even more stupid than I thought."

  Cartwright's face turned a darker red. Elizabeth wouldn't have believed it was possible.

  "What? What did you say?"

  "You heard me. You sound like an idiot. Do I have to point out the religious and historical significance of what they found? The tomb of King David? A gigantic treasure set aside by King Solomon to maintain the Jewish Temple? As to the Iranian nationals, they were agents of Tehran's vicious intelligence service. They'd left my team to die in a truly terrible situation. And what has an Israeli businessman's property got to do with anything? It was the Iranians that shot up his boat, not my team. They did exactly what they were supposed to do, in the way they've been trained to do it. The last I heard, the Israelis are ecstatic about the discovery and very grateful to us because of it."

  Cartwright sputtered. "You... you..."

  Corrigan seemed amused by the exchange. "That's enough, Ellen. Calm down. Director Harker, what is the status of your team now?"

  "They were picked up by the Israelis as they tried to cross the border. They're on their way back. Tel Aviv gave them first-class tickets on El Al. They arrive here later today."

  "I want you to assign them to this threat against the Jewish conference."

  "That was my intention, sir."

  "As you know, the prime minister of Israel will be in attendance. He and I will be jointly addressing the conference on the opening day."

  "Are you sure that's wise, Mister President? We know there's a valid threat. With you and the prime minister present, the conference is an extremely attractive target."

  "Everywhere I go, I'm a target. The security preparations are extensive. I don't think there's much to fear. Nonetheless, I want to add your resources into the security arrangements. Director Hood is also looking into it, as are the Bureau and Homeland Security. The Director of National Intelligence is your point of contact to the other agencies. I expect you to be a team player. Cowboy tactics may work in Egypt, but they have no place here. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir," Elizabeth said.

  "Good. Keep the DNI informed."

  The meeting was over. As she left the Oval Office, Elizabeth glanced back. Cartwright was staring at her with hatred.

  You've made an enemy there. It was worth it, but now you'll have to watch your back.

  Back at Project headquarters, Elizabeth went straight for the coffee machine. She poured a cup and settled behind her desk. Stephanie came into the room.

  "How did the meeting with the president go?"

  "His Chief of Staff is a total ass," Elizabeth said.

  "Oh, oh. What did you do?"

  "Nothing much, except call her an idiot."

  "Elizabeth. You didn't."

  "I did. She'd been going on about how the team screwed up. If you listened to her, you'd think Nick and the others were a bunch of wannabe Rambos who went around blowing up archaeological monuments and killing innocent Iranians for fun. Not a word about what the team had accomplished or how much that had lifted our relationship with Israel."

  "What did Corrigan say?"

  "He's not dumb. He knew she was out of line. I think he wanted to see how I'd handle her."

  "That's manipulative as hell."

  Elizabeth shrugged. "He's the President. That's what people sitting in the Oval Office do. They manipulate."

  "Your cynicism is getting out of hand, Elizabeth."

  "I'm not sure it ever was in hand. Not since I started working for the government."

  "What's next?" Steph asked.

  "The threat to the conference. Corrigan wants us to throw all our resources at it. He also wants us to coordinate it with the other agencies through the DNI. The Bureau, Homeland Security, Langley. He gave me the old team player speech."

  "We start getting bogged down with the bureaucracy, nothing useful is going to happen," Stephanie said.

  "Corrigan doesn't understand our role. I'm not sure that he ever will. We're certainly going to concentrate on this potential threat, but I'm damned if I'm going to be the kind of 'team player' he thinks he wants. Either he's going to learn that we work better on our own without interference, or he won't."

  "And if he doesn't?"

  "Then I think we may be looking for something else to do," Elizabeth said.

  CHAPTER 42

  Dayoud pulled the van into the service alley behind the hotel where the conference was to be held. He parked and got out. Hamid and Amin followed. A man wearing the uniform of hotel security stood leaning against the wall, smoking.

  "You can't park there," he said.

  The guard dropped his cigarette and crushed it underfoot.

  "Why not?" Dayoud said.

  "No one parks there except contractors for the hotel."

  "We have a work order from the chief engineer," Dayoud said. "We're going to inspect your HVAC system for compliance with the new city regs."

  He pulled the official looking paper from his overalls.

  "Let me see that," the security man said.

  Dayoud gave him the paper. It appeared to be signed by Dawson, the chief engineer.

  "Dawson's off sick," the guard said. "Wait here. I'll get Kowalski. He's in charge when Dawson's not around."

  "Take your time," Dayoud said. "We're not going anywhere."

  The guard went inside. Dayoud went round to the back of the van and opened the doors.

  "You think he's suspicious?" Amin asked.

  "Why don't you ask him when he comes back?" Dayoud said. "Idiot. Of course he's not suspicious. If he were, he would've told us to move on. Come on, let's get the cylinder onto the dolly."

  The cylinder no longer looked like an air compressor, although it still featured g
auges and hose connectors on top. It had been altered to look like the kind used for recharging refrigeration and air conditioning units.

  Amin and Hamid picked up two toolboxes filled with various tools and test instruments, including a leak detector and a system analyzer. Anyone who bothered to look would see nothing in the boxes except common tools of the trade. Dayoud had been thorough. A folding aluminum ladder completed appearances.

  "This box is heavy," Amin complained.

  "Stop whining and pay attention," Hamid said.

  The guard came back out into the alley. With him was a stocky, dark-haired man who needed a shave.

  "Kowalski here will take you wherever you need to go," the guard said. "You can leave the truck here."

  "Thanks," Dayoud said.

  He turned to Kowalski. "We'll be as quick as we can, but we have to go over everything."

  "Whatever," Kowalski said. "I got plenty to do. I'll take you guys down into the basement and show you the system. Then I gotta go deal with a problem on the twelfth floor."

  "That'll be fine," Dayoud said. "With a little luck, we'll be out of here in a couple of hours."

  "Whatever," Kowalski said again.

  He showed them the service elevator and took them down to the basement, then led them to the central control room for the heating and ventilation systems.

  "Here you go," Kowalski said. "The new system is over there. Are you familiar with it?"

  "Sure," Dayoud said. "Nice set up."

  "Yeah, they put it in a year ago. I'm surprised you guys have to check it out. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Make sure you don't do anything that screws up the guests' comfort."

  "We look like amateurs?"

  "No offense, buddy. I have to say stuff like that."

  "No problem."

  "I'll be back down in about an hour. The service elevator will take you to the roof if you need to check out the A/C units up there."

  "Thanks, Kowalski."

  Dayoud and the others watched Kowalski walk away, back to the service elevator.

  When he was gone, Dayoud said, "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

  "What is?" Hamid asked.

  "How easy it was to get in here. Their security stinks. We'll hide the gas inside the ductwork. When security cracks down before the conference, they'll be looking for anything that seems out of place. They're not going to find our little surprise."