by Greig Beck
Chapter 12
The first explosion shook the building and made dust rain down on their heads. The second made the lights go out.
“What?” Khaled snatched up the maps, shook off the debris and quickly rolled them up. Explosions were occurring all over the compound, and sporadic gunfire could be heard coming from the western side, the walled side that was closest to nothing but hundreds of miles of featureless desert. “Impossible.”
Rachel dragged Matt to his feet. Beside them, Greta had flung herself over Eleanor, making herself both a comforter and shield.
Rachel saw Khaled quickly stuff the precious maps back in their box, and she grabbed at his arm.
“What the hell is going on?”
He didn’t look up. “An attack – assault rifles, grenades, and by the sound if it, larger ordinance, probably RPGs.”
“No shit?” Rachel literally growled at the Arab. “I know what it is, but from who?”
Matt shook dust from his hair. “Right now, doesn’t matter; seems our fortified oasis has been breached. We need to leave.”
“We head to the prince’s residence; he has a bomb shelter – we can wait it out.” Khaled pulled a phone from his pocket and turned away. He spoke quickly in Arabic.
Matt turned to Rachel, and she immediately knew what he was thinking. “Yeah, I know, it might be the Borgia.”
Matt nodded. “And if it is, they’re here for us – we won’t make it halfway there.”
Khaled grunted as he listened for another moment and then turned. “We are under attack by an unknown force. There are a significant number of them, and they have exceptional firepower. The roads leading to the prince’s compound have also been destroyed, cutting off any help outside from arriving soon. The prince’s forces are engaging them now, and he has invited us to join him in his…”
“No,” Rachel said. “We can’t stay. Think about it; if these guys have the intel to attack this fortified compound and breach it so easily, evading your lookouts, thermal and motion sensor security defenses, then my gut tells me they know all about the prince’s personal panic room. We go in, we’re not coming out.”
Khaled just stared.
“She’s right,” Matt added. “They cut the roads so they’d have plenty of time alone with us. We seal ourselves up in a steel box, and we’re right where they want us.” Matt gripped the Saudi’s upper arm. “You need to get us out of here.”
Khaled shut his eyes for a second, and then nodded. “Yes, I see it now.”
He jammed the phone back to his ear, and pointed to them. “I’m calling in a helicopter – grab what you can.”
Eleanor peered out from under Greta’s arm. “I’ll just need to…”
Khaled rounded on her first, but spoke to Greta. “You need to get moving, or you’ll both be staying.” He raised thick eyebrows. “I’m sure the prince will accommodate you.” He looked to Matt and Rachel. “Two minutes out front.” He headed for the door, maps beneath his arm.
Rachel pushed Matt, jolting him into action. “Let’s go, go, go – just grab what’s closest.” She looked over her shoulder at Eleanor, and for just a moment, she hoped the old women had decided to stay behind. Unfortunately, Greta was already speeding back to their room, the wheels of Eleanor’s chair flicking debris into the air.
In a few minutes Matt and Rachel met at the front door, small bags under their arms.
“Guess I’ll come back for that Zegna suit later.” Matt grinned nervously.
Rachel looked at her wristwatch. “If that chopper doesn’t arrive soon, they can bury you in it.”
“Thank you.” Matt went to push though the doors, but Rachel grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait.” She peered around a column and seeing no one, waved him on. “Come on.”
As soon as they exited through the glass doors the muffled sounds became frighteningly real. It was like a war zone – the yelling, flames, smoke, explosions and rattling gunfire. Rachel saw the bodies strewn over the lawn, and she crouched and ran to some bushes, Matt was beside her immediately.
She checked her watch again. “He’s late.”
“Then we wait,” Matt said. “It’s not like we have other options.”
“Down and quiet.” Rachel uselessly checked her hip. “No gun, so we’ll have to throw stones.”
“Matthew?” Eleanor’s voice floated down from the front of the building.
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Matt lifted his head. “Shush,” he whispered harshly back to her.
“Leave her,” Rachel shot back.
“Can’t do that.” He began to stand.
“Sure we can.” Rachel grabbed him and dragged him back down. “Least for now.”
Six of Prince Najif’s bodyguards jogged across the lawn, speaking rapidly in Arabic into microphones looped over their ears and along their jawlines. Rachel had the urge to yell to them as one of them suddenly threw his head back as if he saw something interesting up in their air, just before he fell backwards like a felled tree. She had seen it before – the bullet to the face punching the head back on his neck.
The other five guards raised their automatic weapons and one dropped to his knee as two of the strangest looking beings Rachel had seen in her life sprinted forward firing as they came.
“What the hell?” she breathed, as she watched the strange robot-like men take hit after hit in the chest and head, and whatever armor they wore protected them from most strikes. But not all; she saw plumes of blood spray out behind them, but determination kept them coming until they had emptied their own magazines into all the Saudi guards. Only then did both of the attackers seem to wind down to death, kneeling and lowering their chins onto deep chests.
“What the fuck are those guys?” Matt snarled, his eyes wide.
“I’m betting our fanatical friends from the church,” Rachel whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back down.
The night-black helicopter came in low and fast, and before it even touched down, two men leapt free.
“Black Hawk,” Rachel said and stood. “Good, armored, we’ll need it.”
Khaled spotted them and pointed to the chopper. He then sprinted off in search of Eleanor. Finding them quickly, he and the other man ran to collect them, but before they got there Greta had the small woman from her chair and was sprinting hard to the open door of the large, muscular helicopter.
She yelled back over her shoulder to grab the chair as she went. In another few seconds, they were all on board and Khaled pulled a set of headphones on and ordered them to take off. Almost immediately, the dull thunk of bullet strikes peppered the undercarriage.
“Hang on,” Khaled yelled.
The helicopter banked hard to the east, and then accelerated. Rachel looked down and saw a bright flare from the ground that was followed by a wobbling tail of fire. The pilot tilted the helicopter almost 90 degrees in the air.
“RPG,” Khaled said.
Rachel nodded, but had already known what it was. RPGs were fast and deadly, but dumb. The real threat came from something a little smarter, something like a guided surface to air…
“Missile…!” Khaled’s roar jolted Rachel into clinging on even tighter and leaning forward with her head down. She saw Greta wrap her arms around Eleanor, hugging the small old woman to her large frame.
The helicopter first accelerated, and then she heard small popping explosions from the rear of its undercarriage, and looking back she saw the spray of hot stars trailing behind, just before they banked hard.
Thank god, she thought. They had countermeasures to deploy – the pyrotechnic flares burned hotter than their engines and were irresistible to most heat-seeking ordinance. The missile exploded in the air behind them, and in another few seconds, they were out of range,
Rachel sat back, letting out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. She also realised she had a throbbing headache – most probably from her surging blood pressure. Beside her, Matt pushed long hair off his face,
and grinned.
“Hellava day.”
Rachel exhaled through pressed lips. “And it ain’t over yet.” She looked down and back; behind them Prince Najif’s estate was a cauldron of fire.
Chapter 13
30,000 feet over the Red Sea
Khaled had told them that the prince was safe, and as soon as their chopper was out of range, the attackers had simply melted away. It was obvious now that they were the only targets.
Matt had the bandage on his hand peeled back and was looking at the skin where the dog had bitten him only hours ago. His heart beat faster as he stared – there were some indentations in the flesh, but the wounds had fully healed.
What the hell is happening? he wondered. He stared hard at the flesh as if trying to see beneath the skin to the muscle, blood vessels and bones below. He had a sinking feeling he already knew.
“Hey.” Rachel approached down the aisle and he quickly pulled the bandage back up and covered the hand.
“What’s up?” He turned.
She sat and then looked over her shoulder to where Greta and Eleanor sat talking. The old woman had her eyes closed but from time to time she nodded.
“Matt, really, how the hell is she ever going to keep up on this trip?”
Matt glanced back over his shoulder and then shook his head. “Maybe Greta will carry her the whole way.”
“Or maybe one of them.” Rachel’s teeth showed as she then glanced at the six burly men who Khaled had brought with him; obviously some of the prince’s Special Forces bodyguards.
“So now we have these guys with us.” She had her hands on her hips. “I knew I should have asked Wybrow for more backup.” She sighed. “You leave a vacuum and some asshole fills it.”
“That’s a nice image.” He grinned. “Look at the upside…” Matt leaned closer to her. “… where we’re going isn’t exactly the safest spot on Earth. So having a team of hardheads with us can only be a good thing. Besides, you do remember Najif’s estate, right?”
She turned to him. “I’m not debating that. All I’m saying is, I wish they were our hardheads.”
He chuckled. “I hear you.”
Rachel settled back into her seat. “How long?”
Matt checked his watch. “Another six hours before we arrive at N’Djamena International Airport.” He eased back. “You know much about Chad?”
“Nada. But I hear it’s very nice?” She pulled in a cheek and snuggled lower in her seat.
“Some would say it’s a melting pot of different ethnicities, cultures and religions. Others would just call it a boiling crucible of violence.”
“Right then, so not that nice, huh?” She smiled. “Give me the thumbnail sketch.”
“An old country in an old continent.” He crossed his hands on his stomach. “People have been living in the Chadian Basin for many thousands of years, and it was once one of the crossroads of civilizations. One of the earliest empires was the legendary Sao that had existed there since 3000 BCE. They were an ancient race only known from their artifacts. The Sao fell to the Kanem Empire, about 2000 years ago, who in turn fell to Islam and the Safwaya rule around 1000 AD.”
He turned to smile to her. “Who then fell to the Bulala, invaders from the area around Lake Fitri to the east.” The desert reclaimed much of the empires then, and the peoples scattered across the land. It wasn’t until the French arrived around 1900 that they took to stopping the tribal warfare and secured full control of the colony and incorporated it as part of French Equatorial Africa.” Matt bobbed his head. “The French granted self-rule to Chad after World War II, and then that’s when the despots and tyrants took over.”
“Bloody history.” She grimaced.
“It gets better, or rather worse.” He sighed. “Just in 2013, security forces in Chad foiled a coup against President Idriss Deby. You want to be a ruler in Chad, you’ve got to have eyes in the back of your head.”
A muscle in Rachel’s jaw twitched. “Now I really wish I did ask for more backup.”
He sighed. “I guess we work with what we’ve got.”
“Yep, and we’ll soon find out if these stuffed suits of Khaled’s know what they’re doing.” Rachel raised her eyebrows at him.
Matt glanced quickly back at the bulky men packed into the rear seats. “They look pretty tough to me. I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with any of them.”
Rachel reached across to stroke his cheek with the back of her hand. “You, dear, are here for your brains.”
Matt laughed and turned back again. He saw that a pair of the group, seated at the very back, seemed more normal looking, even nerdy. “Well, most of them look tough.” One of them lifted a hand to wave, and Matt nodded back. “I think a few of Khaled’s team are the specialists he mentioned; excellent.”
“Then at least he’s done something right.” Rachel eased back and turned to the window.
Matt sighed. “Wake me when we get there.” He closed his eyes.
He turned his mind to the ancient Roman map of the country, and also the stained glass representations of some sort of destination. The problem was that given the scale ratio, the map end-point was somewhere, nowhere, out in the desert.
Matt tried to get comfortable. He wanted to sleep, but didn’t feel tired. The strange thing was he needed less and less sleep, but was feeling more and more invigorated. In fact, his entire body, inside and out, tingled with a weird energy. He licked his lips, feeling thirsty, sort of, but not desiring water. It was something else he craved but couldn’t think what.
Matt opened his eyes a slit, and peeked under the bandage on his hand. There was nothing now – no weeping wound, scabbing or even a scar. Impossible, as the bite had been bone deep and only happened half a day ago. He took off the bandage, rolled it up and stuffed it into his pocket. He flexed his fingers. He had a sinking feeling in his gut.
And then there was the bomb blast – that was something else he had walked away from. In the haze following it, he had fragmentary memories, like torn pieces of a photograph with many bits missing. There was a man, tall, broad and bearded, who had talked softly to him. Welcome, Brother Matthew. Did he really say that, or was it just a load of damaged neurons in his brain misfiring after the explosion?
What’s happening to me? he wondered.
Infected, his brain whispered back.
Impossible, he thought.
You know it’s true, his mind sneered.
Don’t think about it, he demanded of himself. He wriggled in his seat, trying to relax and began the waking dream of the beautiful, tall woman rising from the sparkling blue water. She made his heart leap in his chest, but also calmed him.
“Professor Kearns?”
Matt jolted forward. “What?”
“Doctor Joshua Gideon.” The man adjusted a pair of wire spectacles and then sat on one of the seats facing Rachel and Matt, and stuck out a hand for Matt to shake.
Rachel opened her eyes and he shot the hand back out toward her. “And Agent Bromilow, I presume. I’m from the parasitological department of Tel Aviv University.” He smiled and shrugged, “You might say I’m on loan.”
She frowned. “Really? How are you guys even working together?
He bobbed his head. “Relations are good right now – we’re both allies of the US, who share a concern about the Middle East. We cooperate on numerous things. And more importantly, Prince Najif has a lot of connections.” He grinned. “I think I was summoned and on my way before your dinner with the prince was even finished.”
“Pardon me, Joshua.” Another older man excused himself and squeezed himself and his large stomach into the last vacant seat over from Joshua. “Abdul Ebadi, archaeology.” He shook hands and sat back. “I specialize in ancient religious artifacts and history. I also cross majored in geology.”
“Perfect; that’ll come in handy.” Matt turned to Rachel. “See? This is more like it.”
“You can never have too many eggheads,” she said. “But, Mr. Ebadi,
I think my little friend here has got your field covered.” She nudged Matt.
“Maybe,” he said. “But my knowledge is primarily focused on religious studies. I even worked on the Babylonian tablets.”
“No way?” Matt moved to the edge of his seat. “From the Mesopotamian excavations?”
“Yes, indeed; and they’re possibly the world’s oldest clay tablets that contain a flood story.” He smiled at Rachel. “They were discovered by the British Museum archives curator, Irving Finkel, and they specifically mention an Ark and the flood.”
Matt grinned, and looked briefly at Rachel. “Babylonian, and dated around 1750 BCE. Maybe the oldest telling of the biblical tale anywhere, any time.”
Ebadi nodded. “You might say I specialize in Ark-eology as well as archaeology.” He chuckled and held up a hand flat.
Matt high-fived it. Rachel exhaled through pressed lips and looked back out her window.
Matt turned to Joshua. “And I’m betting you’re here because you obviously heard about the biological samples we discovered.”
“I am, and I must say I’m beyond intrigued. The information that was forwarded from the FBI laboratories was extremely useful.”
“What?” Rachel sat bolt upright. “What information, and forwarded by who?”
“Hey, thought you were dozing?” Matt leaned away from the bristling woman.
“We got a briefing pack on the stained glass images as well as the parasites.” Joshua seemed to search his memory for moment. “Ah, from Assistant Director Vynow or Wynow? He was pretty high up?”
“Wybrow. Just perfect – out of the fucking loop once again.” Rachel got to her feet and paced up toward the front of the plane.
Professor Ebadi frowned, probably at Rachel’s burst of profanities, but just momentarily tightened his lips and then turned back to Matt. “This is a dream fieldwork opportunity.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. Pretty hostile territory we’re entering.” Matt said.
Rachel had paced back. “Pretty hostile where we just came from,” she added with a tight smile.
