by Jack Du Brul
"Asshole, I know you're bluffing." Mercer estimated how long it would take a two-pound object to fall from anga minute you're going to pay the highest stakes of all."
"Bravado, Dr. Mercer," Yosef replied. "In one minute, if I'm not given free passage, two F-16s are going to blow you from the sky. I may die, yes, but so will Harry White. Your revenge may be gratifying, but it will also be short-lived."
"You should have known when to fold 'em, partner," Mercer drawled. It took a few tries to light the fuse in the air whipping around the cabin, but once it was burning evenly, he shouted, "Now!"
The Blackhawk pilot had anticipated Mercer by a crucial half second, and when he released the explosive, he realized it would miss the upperworks of the Israeli helicopter. While an explosion near the hull of the Sikorsky would be damaging, it was doubtful it would cripple the huge cargo chopper.
Mercer's mouth opened for a scream of frustration even as the Blackhawk twisted and fell from the sky so fast that he became momentarily weightless. Yet his gaze never left the Israeli helo or the little package tumbling torward it.
A helicopter's rotor produces lift by creating a pocket of high pressure below the blades and low pressure above. For a chopper the size of the CH-53, tons of air rush into the vortex around the rotor, centering the craft like the eye of a hurricane. Into this maelstrom fell the dynamite. The little bomb would have fallen harmlessly past a conventional aircraft, but when it felt the relentless draw of the turbine-powered blades, it changed direction in midair. The millisecond before the packet was shredded by the rotor, the fuse touched the chemical explosives.
The helicopter vanished behind an expanding blossom of fire, and when it finally reemerged, the six rotor blades and the top third of the aircraft were gone. The Super Stallion was dead in the air, only its forward momentum carrying it in a flagging parabola. Mercer didn't blink until it slammed into the cobalt-blue sea, fire from its ruptured tanks washing away on the waves spawned by the impact. In a second it was gone.
"Get us to the Arabian coast and under their radar umbrella," Mercer shouted to the pilot, but the veteran was way ahead of him. The chopper settled into a flight path scant feet above the sea, the engines torqued for maximum speed.
"Those jets are breaking off and returning north," the copilot yelled a minute later.
Mercer was too tired to care, but he gave a weak cheer for the crew's benefit. "Let's get back to the mine. We're not done yet."
It took forty minutes, and on the inbound flight they heard radio chatter from other Blackhawks ferrying the injured to the amphibious assault ship.
Habte was the first to greet Mercer on the ground, shaking his hand solemnly, then enfolding him in a brotherly hug that would add another day or two to the recovery time for Mercer's broken ribs.
"I didn't think I'd see you again." Habte tried to keep the emotion out of his voice but failed.
"Came damn close."
Selome was next to reach the little group huddled near the Blackhawk. She too hugged Mercer, much more gently, but her kiss was consuming--as if she was trying to fit every possible emotion into that one gesture. Mercer's response was no less enthusiastic.
"I'm fine, don't worry." She preempted his question.
"The Mem">Mercer was still on an adrenaline high. Everything felt otherworldly. An hour ago he had been fighting for his life, and now he was holding hands with a beautiful woman, surrounded by grimy but satisfied soldiers. It would take a long time for everything to soak in, the horror and the pain, but for just a few minutes he felt like he was invincible, and the thought made him grin.
"That's great, but I was about to ask if you are ready for that vacation yet?"
A Marine approached, extending his hand to Mercer. Behind him, two guards held Giancarlo Gianelli and Joppi Hofmyer. The smile vanished from Mercer's face, his gray eyes going deadly flat.
"Captain James Saunders, USMC," the redheaded Marine introduced. "It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Mercer."
"Honor's mine, Captain." Mercer grasped the outstretched hand. "On behalf of all of us, thank you."
"Just doing our job, sir," the Marine demurred. "I thought you might want to see these two characters before I shipped them out of here. The FBI already has agents in Asmara to escort them to Europe, where they're going to stand trial."
"I've seen enough ugliness in the past weeks to want to pass up this last opportunity. Thanks anyway."
"Fair enough." Saunders gestured for the guards to take the two to a waiting helicopter, but when they were just a couple of steps away, Mercer reconsidered. "One second, Captain."
Both captives were filthy and looked ravaged by their attempt to flee the battle, yet both were also uninjured. Mercer addressed Hofmyer first. "I've already kicked your ass once, so I'm not even going to bother with you." Then he directed his hatred at Gianelli. The Italian yelped when Mercer's murderous eyes fell on him.
"You, on the other hand, well, this I'm going to enjoy." Mercer cocked his fist, centering Gianelli's face perfectly, but he stayed his hand. "Screw it. You're not worth the effort."
Gianelli sagged with relief and stared goggle-eyed when Mercer turned away.
"Like hell you're not." Mercer twisted back and slammed Gianelli, the punch rolling the industrialist's eyes into his skull and laying him flat in the dirt. "Thank you, Captain Saunders. I think I needed that."
Selome ducked under one of Mercer's arms and Habte braced up the other, so he walked between the two of them, using them for support. Then he straightened, the old fire returning, his face lit with a devilish thought. "What do you say we go find Gianelli's safe and see what all this fuss has been about?"
Masada, Israel
In a land where nearly every building and hillock and cave has significance, few sites are as awe-inspiring or sacred as King Herod's fortress at Masada. It sits atop a diamond-shaped mountain, commanding a view unlike any other in the world. The Dead Sea--earth's deepest spot--lies in its shadow, over a thousand feet below sea level, the salty haze reflecting off the lifeless waters making it impossible to distinguish the Jordanian coast just seven miles away.
Masada had been built as an unassailable defensive fort but became a favorite retreat to King Herod, who'd spared nothing in making its opulence legendary. It had two separate palaces and a swimming pool that was kept full year-round ad once been a pilgrimage destination for the lame and injured, and many of the pictographs depicted medical procedures and prayers.
Today was their last day alone together. Here at Kom Ombo, they were being joined by Dick Henna and his wife, Fay. Later, in Aswan, the two couples would leave the boat for another week of sightseeing, including a privately chartered plane trip to the massive Ramses II temple at Abu Simbel.
No sooner had Mercer thought about the impending end to their solitude than there came a disturbance at the gang-plank. At first he thought it was another curio merchant trying to sell souvenirs, but then he heard Dick Henna's voice and Fay's excited exclamation as she got her first look at the true nature of her ride south.
"Selome, wake up," Mercer called, and her eyes fluttered open. He tossed her the bikini top. "Company's arrived."
She gave a little moue of annoyance and slipped the bikini over her chest, settling her breasts in the twin cups just as Henna and Fay came out to the sundeck.
Mercer was on his feet in an instant, shaking Dick's hand and kissing Fay's cheek. "Welcome to Mercer's Barge of Sin. Your whim is our command."
"I said it before and I'll say it again, I got into the wrong line of work." Henna drank in the barge's opulence until his gaze fell on Selome. He gaped.
"Selome Nagast, this is Dick and Fay Henna." While Dick was shaking her hand, Fay shot Mercer an approving wink that made him smile. "How was your trip?"
"Great," Dick replied. "First-class from Dulles to Cairo, private jet from there to Aswan and a limo here. Who could complain?"
Mercer had paid for it all as thanks to Dick for his help and Fay
for her patience.
"And Harry?"
"He'll be here the day after tomorrow. He's in Israel now, helping Mossad identify the people who held him captive. I can't believe he has that much energy. His constitution is like iron."
"While his heart's gold and his liver is lead," Mercer laughed. "Why don't you two get settled? We can talk over lunch."
An hour later, they sat at one of the outside tables, Henna and Fay dressed in shorts and loose shirts. Mercer had thrown on a T-shirt and Selome had covered up with a colorful wrap. As they ate, two lateen-rigged feluccas dashed by the barge, the traditional craft still a regular sight on the river after countless hundreds of generations.
After the stewards cleared the table and refreshed everyone's drinks, Mercer finished his nearly textbook history of the temple behind them and turned the conversation more serious. "We might as well get the working part of your trip out of the way so we can enjoy the rest of the week in peace."
"I agree," Fay chimed quickly.
"Fair enough." Henna looked lovingly at his wife of thirty-five years. "Okay, we'll do the bad stuff first and work our way to the good news.
"Three of the miners trapped when you escaped the mine pit have died from mercury poisoning, and four others aren't expected to make it. Most, hautopsies proved they were all killed by the Sudanese. Out of the Marine detachment, we lost eight men with another twelve wounded. Only three Sudanese survived the battle and are being held in Asmara awaiting trial. The minister of justice assures me their execution will be swift. In a deal between Interpol and the Eritrean authorities, they also get to keep Joppi Hofmyer and the other South African mine engineer, but Giancarlo Gianelli went to Europe. The board of directors for Gianelli SpA have been forthcoming about his other illegal activities in an attempt to stave off bad publicity. Even with good behavior, he'll be in prison long after the next ice age."
"Has he shown any remorse?"
"None."
"I should have killed him when I had the chance," Mercer grunted. He knew even a life sentence was too lenient for what Gianelli had done.
"Now for the good news. I'll save the best stuff for last. As I'm sure you heard, Defense Minister Levine died mysteriously a couple of weeks ago. The official cover story is heart attack, but the truth is, Prime Minister Litvinoff shot Levine himself. Litvinoff called for a postponement of the elections, but it looks like when they are held, he will retain the prime ministership with a Labor Party majority in the Knesset. The other conspirators we know about will be tried in secret. Israel's government is keeping this whole affair quiet, but our President knows exactly what transpired and he's going to use that for leverage during the next round of peace negotiations if they balk at old promises again."
"Carrot and stick diplomacy?"
"Not my concern, I'm just a cop." Henna smirked. "Now for the really good parts.
"That heavy mining equipment you had ordered from Washington arrived in Eritrea the day after you and Selome came here. The Army Corps of Engineers gave them a hand getting it to the mine site as part of a cooperative loan package. Habte Makkonen has been named as the mine's general manager, and he'll have it in operation soon. Of course, they're calling it the King Solomon Mine. Makkonen and the minister of mines have already struck a deal with the London diamond cartel for distribution. Within another few weeks the first stones will be shipped. No one can predict how much this will change Eritrea, but everyone agrees that their cycle of poverty is over."
"Tell him the other part," Fay prompted.
"Oh, yeah. Remember that safe, the one you couldn't open at the mine?"
"Mercer tried everything short of dynamite on that stupid thing," Selome offered.
"Gianelli refused to give us the combination, so the safe's manufacturer was contacted and they sent one of their technicians. I guess that little pig was the latest in strongbox technology because it took the safe-cracker a full week to open it."
"And?" It was Fay who was showing more excitement than anyone else, even though she knew the story.
"You probably heard rumors about a huge stone that had been found when you were working in the pits. Well, they were true. Rough, it weighs one hundred and twenty carats. Diamond-cutting experts who have it in Antwerp say it'll polish out at over sixty."
"Jesus Christ!" Mercer was stunned. "A stone that size is priceless. A collector will pay a fortune for the right to name it."
"It's already been >
"The people of Eritrea have donated it to the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History. It will be displayed next to the Hope Diamond in the Hooker Hall of Geology." Henna beamed. "It's going to be called the Mercer Diamond."
Mercer felt a prick of tears behind his eyes and turned away before the others could see how touched he was by the gesture. When he recovered, he looked at Selome. "You knew about this?"
"I learned about it the last time I called the Minister of Mines." She couldn't keep the smile from her face. "On behalf of all my people, we wanted some way to thank you for what you did for us."
Such gratitude made Mercer look uncomfortable, but there was a glint of self-satisfaction behind his expression.
Later that night, Mercer and Selome made love in the big master suite. As they lay in the damp tangle of sheets, Selome rested her head on Mercer's chest so he could not see her face when she spoke. "You've changed since this morning. Was it the diamond?"
He respected her enough not to evade the question. "No, it isn't that."
How could he explain it to her? What words could tell her that despite all they had been through, he wanted to go home and pick up where he'd been before that first call from Prescott Hyde. He had to forget about this nightmare. It wasn't fair or right to include her too, but she was part of it. Everything was just too painful, images of Gibby and Brother Ephraim and the mummified children, the sight of bodies he'd found in the other mine, Chavez's face when the hill exploded. It would take years for the horror to dissipate, and some of it would be with him forever.
"It is Dick and Fay then," she said. "They remind you that life exists away from here and you are now eager to return."
"Selome, I--"
He wasn't eager, but he had to go. He had to sever every tie with what had happened. He had to make a clean break if he hoped to start the long healing process.
"I know, Philip. I understand. You are ready to go home. Don't think I didn't know this was coming. I expected it." Her voice caught. "When we met, I sensed you were carrying an old pain, something from your recent past that you could not get rid of. It's gone now, but maybe you're afraid that this experience will follow you too."
Mercer smiled. "You were the one who made the old memories fade. I think I'd given up on people, shut myself off, but you reminded me that I'm still alive inside. I can never repay you for what you've done for me." And then Mercer realized he could. "I made a promise with myself that I wouldn't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you and you have to promise that the secret stays here, in this room."
Selome twisted so she could look at him, his serious tone demanding her full attention.
"In the chamber where Mahdi died, I saw something, something I can't explain." He could see her searching his eyes. "I've been trying to rationalize what I saw, come up with a scientific explanation in my mind, but I can't."
"What was it?" Selome asked, already sensing she knew. Her body quivered.
"It was unlike any natural phenomena I'd ever seen, an otherworldly blue light that glowed and pulsed as if it was alive. I didn't actually see what caused it, but I'm pretty sure that the Ark of the Covenant was down there with us. Levine w it. Do you know what this means?"
"Yes, I do," Mercer said. "How many people have died because of it already? If the search continues, more will be killed until all of Israel is destroyed, maybe the world. No, Selome, we shouldn't go get it. It was crushed under a billion tons of rock, and that's exactly where it should stay." He paused. "Do you remember that Ephraim said God c
ommanded Menyelek to take the Ark to Africa? Maybe it was for just this reason. It was meant to be a tool for God's veneration, not a means for men to destroy each other. We aren't ready for it yet, we can't handle it."
"But . . ." Her voice trailed off. She knew Mercer was right.
"I told you this so at least you would know the truth. That's my gift for your help."
She could see what it had cost him to reveal this secret. The internal conflict etched his face and tightened the muscles in his body. "Thank you," she whispered. "I think my gift was much less painful to give. I'm now in your debt."
"No more debts. We're even."
"So what will you do once you get home?" Her serene expression told Mercer that they really were even. "Will you find some new adventure to occupy your mind and help you forget about me?"
"I'll never forget you, but no more adventures," Mercer said. "I'm teaching mine rescue in Pennsylvania in a few weeks. After that, I hope to be heading to Greenland as part of a scientific expedition. Compared to what you and I have been through, it'll be a cakewalk."
Selome studied his eyes, a secret little smile on her lips. "In all of your questing, have you ever really found what you're looking for?"
Mercer considered for a minute. "It's not the goal that interests me, it's the quest itself."
"In that case, promise me that for our last week together, I am your sole quest."
He did.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Du Brul is a graduate of the Westminster School and George Washington University. Trying to add as much adventure to his life as he does to his novels, Du Brul has climbed Masada at noon, swum in the Arctic Ocean off Point Barrow, explored war-torn Eritrea, hiked in Greenland, and was gnawed on by piranhas in the Amazon River. He collects zeppelin memorabilia, and when not writing or traveling (twr mi
Table of Contents
Monastery of Debre Amlak
Valley of Dead Children
The Mine
Inside the Mine
Washington, D.C.
