The Temple Deliverance

by D C Macey

  Then, just as the fear of the night tightened its grip, she heard a noise and spun round. Some paces distant, she could see a figure, silhouetted by the faintest of lights that now emerged from the ground beyond the silhouette. Davy was beside the trench, and he was right - somebody was in there.

  As she started to move towards Davy, a second silhouette appeared close beside him. It had a hand raised and was holding what appeared to be a cosh or club. Julie forgot the dark and rushed towards Davy.

  ‘Davy. Look out!’ Her warning got Davy turning in her direction just as the club swept down towards him. It reached the point where, just a moment before, his head had been. Instead of breaking his skull, a heavy wooden bar crunched into his shoulder. Instantly, Davy slumped, his only functioning arm reaching out to grip his assailant’s clothing. On his knees, he could do nothing as the attacker’s arm rose again, ready to sweep the club down and dispatch him forever.

  Even as the club commenced its descent, the attacker’s head turned to weigh up the threat of Julie as she arrived out of the darkness. With a fierce shriek, Julie jabbed her walking staff forwards, aiming directly for the prowler’s face. All her fear, her anxiety and her care for Davy were focused through the thrusting staff; it passed the attacker’s flailing hand and met him square in the face. Letting out a cry of shocked pain, the man fell backwards into the trench. Even as he dropped, he locked a firm handgrip on her staff.

  Puzzled, a second man stood at the foot of the trench. He swung his torch beam up towards the commotion, just in time to see a large object falling towards him. The butt of the staff caught him on the side of the head, felling him. Unconscious, he never felt the deadweight of his associate landing on top of him. Nor did he feel the subsequent thud as Julie landed on top of his companion.

  Still mad, Julie leapt up and, in the angled light of the torch, wrenched her staff from the groggy man’s hand. Taking no risks, she swung it up above her head and brought it down on his. The man sighed and slumped into unconsciousness.

  Davy, still on his knees, had been peering over the edge, trying to make out what was happening below.

  ‘Julie, are you okay? Hold on, I’m coming down.’

  ‘Stay up there, Davy; I’m fine.’ She gave both the men exploratory prods with her staff. They didn’t move. ‘I’m coming back up.’

  Throwing her stick up like a javelin, she took the men’s torch to light her way. At the top of the trench, she went to hug Davy then stopped herself. ‘You’re hurt.’

  He nodded. ‘I think my collar bone’s broken.’

  Julie shone the torch on Davy’s body and looked anxiously at his slumped shoulder. ‘Oh hell, that looks bad.’

  Davy mumbled agreement.

  ‘Look, I’ve called the police. We just need to keep these two trapped down there until they arrive. Can you hold on?’

  ‘I don’t know, perhaps we should get away while we can.’

  ‘And let these two escape? No way. Look what they’ve done to you.’

  ‘But Julie, I’m in no shape to help you. I can’t move my arm.’

  Julie paced along the edge of the trench. ‘They’re both out cold. If they do come round, I can manage them easily enough with this.’ She gave her staff a wave. ‘There’s only one place they can come up, and I’ll just prod them back down again.’

  ‘Okay, but I still think we should get away. If they manage to get out, you won’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Well, let’s make sure they don’t get out.’ Julie headed back to the access point and pulled up their climbing aid. Then she returned to Davy. ‘Now, we’d better get a shoulder sling on you.’

  She located the hide with her torch and pulled a spare jumper from her rucksack to improvise a sling.

  ‘Who do you think those two are?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know. I know some nighthawks have a bad reputation but trying to club my head is more than you’d expect from them. I’m thinking they must be part of the gang that caused Helen and Sam trouble.’

  ‘The ones that attacked you last summer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, they’re going nowhere, that’s for sure.’ Julie straightened up, gripped her staff more securely and peered back over the edge. ‘No one’s moving down there.’

  ‘Let’s hope it stays that way until the police arrive. Perhaps you’d better phone the emergency services again and ask for an ambulance too.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll do that,’ said Julie, feeling in her pocket for her phone. ‘Maybe I should ask for the fire brigade as well. Someone’s going to have to lift them out of there.’

  13

  Friday, January 17th - a.m.

  Sam left his cabin and entered the passageway. Very faint lights were fixed along its length and stopped at the stair to the wheelhouse. Moving through the half-light, he took the stair and carefully slipped behind the blackout curtain that hung at the top. He paused beyond the curtain. Everything was black, other than a few dimmed green and amber console display lights.

  Standing quietly at the back, he allowed his eyes time to adjust. Slowly, he began to notice things. The skipper was sat in his seat, and Sam stepped forwards.

  ‘We’ll be there soon,’ said Blue.

  ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘A couple of hours, and we’ll put you ashore.’

  ‘How? Will you go alongside?’

  ‘No, there’s nowhere safe for that. There’s an old harbour at Leptis Magna, but it’s no use. It’s been silted up for hundreds of years. Nobody has a reason to dredge a channel; I doubt it has been used fully in generations.

  ‘We’ll take you to the beach in a RIB. Remember, Mr Cameron, Leptis Magna is uninhabited, so as long as you are discreet, you will have a day undisturbed.’

  ‘Don’t worry; I have no intention of drawing attention to myself.’

  ‘Good, then you will be fine.’

  With the sweep of an arm, Captain Blue described an arc ahead of them. Sam looked out through the wheelhouse windows to where a black sea and black sky met at a mostly imagined dark horizon; its presence picked out here and there by the occasional faint glow of electric light - shining halos of distant towns, breaking over the sea horizon to mark their presence. Land was near but not yet in sight.

  ‘See, far off to starboard, that strong glow is Tripoli, dead ahead is Khoms and way off, on the port side, that’s Misrata. We’ll just keep on this heading for now. In an hour or so, we’ll shift course and run parallel to the coast. Leptis is just to the east of Khoms. We’ll launch the RIB and put you ashore as we continue slowly along the coast.’

  ‘You have a routine then,’ said Sam. He heard a throaty laugh.

  ‘Yes, we have a routine. Now, look over there in the direction of Misrata. Can you see something?’

  Sam looked carefully. Far away, he could just pick out the navigation lights of a vessel. Distant pinpricks. Red and green sidelights, two brighter white steaming lights between and above them. ‘A ship. It’s coming towards us.’

  ‘Yes. Libyan coastguard.’

  Sam tensed. ‘We’re not inside territorial waters yet, are we? Will they intercept us?’

  ‘No, we’re in international waters still. But by the time we meet them, we’ll be in Libyan waters. They’ll certainly intercept us then.’

  Sam spun his gaze from the wheelhouse windows to where the silhouette of Captain Blue occupied the navigator’s chair. ‘What can you do?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Captain Blue gave a further laugh. ‘Don’t worry, she’s expecting us.’

  Sam felt sudden confusion. Was he betrayed?

  The laugh continued for a moment longer. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Cameron. You are safe. We have an understanding, the captain of the patrol boat and I. Life is rubbish for him and his crew. Poor pay, when they get it. Some people like them, some people hate the job they do - disrupting the people smuggling operations. Life is not always so nice for them and their families. So I bring the luxuries that make life bearab
le. Nice things for their wives, sweets for their children. Whisky for the captain and his men.’

  ‘Drink? Isn’t that against their religious rules?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Blue. ‘Now, I think it would be best if you stay in your cabin until this is done.’

  Sam nodded. On reflection, he wasn’t surprised at Blue’s modus operandi. To be everyone’s friend was probably the only way to conduct business on this coast. He retired towards his cabin to give his equipment one final check. While descending the stair, he heard the captain summoning a crewman to prepare a gift package for the approaching boarding party.

  • • •

  Sam pulled his cap down hard, fastened his jacket and lifted his rucksack. With a final glance around the cabin, he swung the bag onto one shoulder and followed a crewman along the passageway out onto the deck. He had already sensed the vessel was moving slowly, now it seemed the fishing boat had slowed almost to a stop. Just enough propulsion to keep it heading parallel to the coast, no more. They made their way forward, and as his eyes adjusted to the last darkness before the dawn, he became aware of shadowy movements on the deck ahead.

  Three of the crew were busy preparing to launch the smaller RIB. A man stood in the sturdy RIB, steadying himself by holding one of its cable stays that were currently looped up on the winch cable’s hook. Another man worked the winch, and a third crewman stood at the rail directing activity. Sam watched as the winch lifted the RIB clear of the deck, saw it swing out across the ship’s rail and vanish from view over the side, down into the water.

  On the deck ahead of him, he saw a hawser suddenly tighten against the little bollard it had been secured to. He knew that the other end would be secured to the bow of the RIB, taking the strain as the weight of the RIB dragged through the water beside the slow-moving fishing boat.

  A shout from the third crewman had the winch operator wind up the cable with its now disconnected hook then hurry to the rail to help roll a scramble net over the side. The third crewman hopped over the rail and started to climb down. Sam noted the Kalashnikov slung across his back. Captain Blue may not be anticipating any trouble, but it seemed he was still taking precautions.

  Taking a final glance about, Sam noted the coast, much closer now, a blacker darkness against the night sky, clearly uninhabited. Yet both further astern and ahead of their position, shore lights were shining, highlighting the location of Khoms and a network of coastal villages. The black in between marked his destination: the still and silent Leptis Magna. The RIB’s engine spluttered, roared, then settled into a quieter mode as it powered ahead just enough to take the weight off the hawser. Sam swung his leg over the rail and scrambled down into the RIB.

  It took only a few minutes to reach the shore, but in that time, dawn had started to break. The RIB pulled round a little promontory featuring the crumbled remains of a ruined building, suddenly highlighted in the breaking morning light. Sam guessed it must once have been a lighthouse signing the entrance into Leptis Magna’s harbour.

  Moments later, the RIB slowed and gently nudged up against the beach. One crewman jumped out. His Kalashnikov was still slung across his back. The man clearly did not anticipate trouble as he pulled on a short bow line, staying focused only on holding the RIB steady against the beach.

  Sam tensed. Twenty or thirty paces ahead, emerging from the quickly receding twilight gloom were men. Three men, one held his automatic weapon unslung and at the ready. Sam urgently pointed them out to the crewmen who looked then laughed. One crewman lifted a length of sacking and told Sam to sit still as he made to throw it over Sam’s head.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Sam, swiping it aside and making ready to dive into the water.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said the crewman, gripping Sam’s arm. ‘Everything is fine. Sit. Sit, please.’ He pointed down to the bench Sam had just vacated.

  Sam looked back at the beach. The three armed men were standing in a line, watching. They looked nervous and now all had their weapons at the ready. Knowing he could not outswim automatic fire, Sam scowled and sat down.

  ‘Good, good. Do not move,’ said the crewman, throwing the sacking over Sam’s head.

  Unsighted, Sam sat, furious with himself for having been so trusting. He began to frantically work out how he could overcome such odds while listening as best he could to the Arabic greetings. It quickly became clear the crewmen and the armed guards knew one another well.

  Sam was puzzled; he was not seized, not shot, nobody was questioning his presence, just the sounds of chatter and boxes being moved. Then the sounds stopped. A crewman pulled the sacking off Sam’s head, and he relaxed. Heading off up the beach were the three men, weapons slung across their backs and arms filled with boxes. This must have been some regular business that Captain Blue was conducting.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said a crewman as Sam started to rise. ‘Wait for them to go.’

  ‘Who were they?’

  ‘Friends.’

  ‘And the sacking?’ said Sam.

  ‘Necessary. You don’t see them; they don’t see you. Nobody knows anything.’

  ‘But they saw me.’

  ‘I don’t think so, or they would have arrested you.’ The crewman grinned at Sam, tobacco-stained teeth suddenly visible in the growing light.

  Biting his tongue, he watched the three armed men disappear from sight.

  ‘We will be back exactly here, one hour after sunset. You can wait just over there, by the eastern quayside. But be here; we will not wait. The guards will not come back until then. You will be safe, whatever you are doing.’ The crewman gave a shrug and looked at Sam as though he were mad.

  Sam stepped off the RIB onto the beach, and the crewman on the shore immediately began pushing off. The RIB’s engine sounded, and it began to back off into the sea. Then with a roar, it powered off towards the now more distant fishing boat.

  Suddenly alone and exposed on the beach, Sam took a careful look about. He decided this was not a trap. There was no need for the armed men to have mounted such a charade. If they had intended to take him, they could have already done so with ease. It seemed Blue really had delivered. On impulse, he hurried across the beach to the little promontory from where he could take his bearings and see where the RIB was heading. Once he had done that, he’d be ready to start his search.

  • • •

  The sun was up now and well clear of the horizon. Comfortably concealed, Sam sat amid the jumble of great stone blocks that had once been the lighthouse at the end of the promontory. It provided shelter to the harbour against winds from the north and west. Another hundred paces to the southeast of his present spot, across the mouth of the now silted harbour was the eastern breakwater. A little beyond that rose a stretch of imposing wall, which he guessed would have been part of the city’s defensive walls.

  Together, the promontory and breakwater stretched out protective arms, providing a perfect shelter for ships in the harbour. Too perfect, in fact. As well as protecting ships, the features also helped to slow the seasonal water flow of the wadi that fed into the harbour from the hinterland. The slowing floodwater deposited its silt and sand into the harbour before flowing on out into the Mediterranean. Without a motivated empire to support dredging, the harbour had slowly silted up.

  Now, what had once been a harbour was a neatly contained area that centuries of wadi-borne silt had filled and levelled. Subsequent plant growth created a wild garden of grasses, reeds, shrubs and bushes, bounded on three sides by weathered and dried out quays, and to the fourth side, where he had landed, a neat white beach had formed to border the sea’s edge.

  Gaddafi’s men had banished Professor Bertram to the eastern side of Wadi Lebda, to Leptis Magna’s port district; they had sent him away across the wadi, specifically to bar him from all the excitement of the main dig in the western half of the city. Placing him on the eastern bank of the Wadi Lebda, in the visually less inspiring eastern half of the city, had been a punishment for his nationality. A rui
ned lighthouse, the silted harbour, its quaysides and remnants of warehousing were less enticing than the grand architecture of the western side of Leptis. Even the three temples that had once stood around the harbour were largely gone or reduced to rubble.

  Glancing down at his plan then back to reality, Sam fixed on his destination - the Temple of Jupiter. He smiled to himself; just for once, it seemed geography and events had combined to make his job easier, providing ready access to the spot that most interested him.

  Sam looked south, beyond the quay, searching for the Temple of Jupiter. Where the temple had once stood, he could see nothing. The building had vanished completely. He was unconcerned; Professor Bertram had been clear enough.

  Raising his binoculars, he focused on the southern edge of the quay and slowly tilted his glasses up. Beyond some initial thickets, nature offered mainly long green grasses spreading up and around the occasional white rocky outcrops of stone where the land rose up from the quayside. In just a moment, he found what he wanted - a grand stone staircase. It had once routed devotees from the port directly to the Temple of Jupiter. Two thousand years of sun and rain had bleached the honeyed white stone and conspired with countless leather-sandaled footfalls to round off the once sharp-edged blocks. The staircase’s patina had weathered back into the landscape, natural camouflage, but nonetheless, the stair remained, just as Professor Bertram had promised.

  Sam took his time to scan the surroundings one more time. It seemed safe. The sound of the pristine blue sea gently washing against the promontory was occasionally augmented by a screeching gull, otherwise all was calm. He could see the shrubs and plants that filled the silted-up floor of the harbour waving in the gentle breeze. He knew when he got there, he would hear their breeze-driven rustle and the hum of insects already out, busy under the warm winter sun. Off to the right of the temple steps, the green deepened and thickened to mark the course of the wadi. Beyond that lay the western side of the city. Even from a distance, it impressed. Abandoned to the desert for centuries, it had remained unchanged, an impressive monument to its time and its builders’ intentions. Sam wished he could explore that side, but there was a job to do.