Kingdom of Darkness (10 page)

Zane was surprised to have been identified. ‘How did you know that?’

‘That Krav Maga martial arts bollocks you were doing, I’ve seen it before. I met Mossad agents when I was in the forces. Bunch of arrogant fucking twats.’

The young man scowled at him. ‘What did you say?’

Falk held up a hand. ‘Jared.’ Zane’s offended frown remained, but he made an effort to lower his hackles. ‘We should get back on to the main street, or your bodyguard might miss you when he returns from escorting Miss Sharif to your hotel.’

Nina warily joined her husband as he brushed dirt off his leather jacket. ‘I guess you really do know who we are. So why are you following us?’

The Israelis started back towards the street. Eddie and Nina followed cautiously. ‘You encountered a man named Maximilian Jaekel in Los Angeles,’ said Falk.

‘If by “encountered” you mean “were shot at by”, then yeah,’ she replied.

‘Jaekel was an escaped Nazi, although I’m sure you already know that,’ Falk went on. ‘But the Mossad has an . . .
arrangement
with both Interpol and the American government – the British government too,’ he added, glancing at Eddie. ‘The moment his fingerprints were identified, we were alerted. It didn’t seem possible – the dead man appeared far too young. But fingerprints do not lie. So my unit was reactivated to investigate.’

‘
Re
activated?’ said Eddie.

Falk nodded. ‘My current role at the Mossad is irrelevant, but I was formerly in charge of the Criminal Sanctions Unit. The reason the CSU had been deactivated was simple: it had run out of criminals to pursue.’

‘
War
criminals,’ said Nina, realising the unit’s true function. ‘You’re Nazi hunters?’

‘Yes.’ They reached the street and the two Israelis stopped under a light, giving Nina and Eddie their first clear view of the pair. Zane was in his mid twenties, tall and lean in both face and figure, with a neat mane of tight black curls framing his intense features. Falk was a good three decades older, his hair and bristling moustache gone to grey. Despite his age, however, he seemed as fit as his younger companion. ‘The CSU has not had a field operation in almost seven years – until now. As former head of the unit, I was recalled from my other duties.’

‘And him?’ Eddie asked, jerking a thumb at Zane. ‘He doesn’t look like he’d even have finished school seven years ago.’

‘I’ve got personal reasons for wanting to join the CSU for this operation,’ said Zane, dark eyes regarding the Englishman coldly. ‘My family comes from Greece, from Macedonia. Most of them were slaughtered by the Nazis. Jaekel was one of the men responsible. If he survived, others from his SS unit may have too. If they did, I want them to see justice.’

‘Well, can’t argue with you on that one.’

‘So okay, you’re hunting for the rest of these Nazis,’ said Nina. ‘Then why are you following us around Alexandria? And why did you attack Eddie?’

‘He attacked
me
,’ Zane pointed out brusquely, putting a hand to his stomach where Eddie had punched him.

‘We have been observing you ever since you arrived in Egypt,’ said Falk as the group started walking again. ‘We knew you were coming, so I decided to keep watch on you. Just in case.’

Nina regarded him warily. ‘Just in case of what?’

‘We’re their fucking
bait
,’ Eddie realised. ‘They think that since one Nazi went after us in LA, another might take a pop at us here – and they want to catch him if he does. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s the only reason you’re keeping an eye on us – to see if someone tries to kill us!’

‘We would do as much as we could to stop them,’ Falk said, not exactly reassuring the couple. ‘But yes, that is why we are here. Whoever Jaekel was working with wants to obtain the horse statue from inside Alexander’s tomb, very badly – and they believe you are a threat to their plans. Since you are now here, they may make another attempt – and we will be waiting.’

‘How did you know about the statue?’ Nina demanded, before the answer came to her. ‘This arrangement you’ve got with the US government – the Mossad gets access to more than just fingerprints, doesn’t it? How high up does it go?’ Falk and his partner remained silent, though the former had a faint smile that suggested any level Nina imagined would not be as high as the truth.

Eddie’s expression was anything but smiling. ‘
You
got us out of jail, didn’t you? You had words with somebody at the Justice Department, because you knew that if Nina came to Egypt, you’d be able to use her as your fucking canary. And if you knew anything about her at all, you also knew that she
would
come out here.’ He gave his wife an
I told you so
look, which was not well received.

‘Yes, we expedited your release,’ confirmed Falk amiably. ‘Ideally, you would never even have known we were here, but unfortunately you chose a restaurant that limited our options for observing you covertly. It’s hard to run a surveillance operation with just two people.’

Eddie made a sarcastic sound. ‘Short-staffed, are you? Mossad’s murder squads using up all the budget?’

Again Zane bristled at the insult to his organisation, but Falk took it in his stride. ‘Even the Mossad has its limits – although we prefer that our enemies don’t realise it. But don’t worry. You won’t see us again . . . unless we’re needed.’

‘We don’t need you,’ Eddie said firmly. ‘You want some friendly advice? Fuck off and don’t come back.’

‘Any time you want to finish what we started, Chase . . .’ rumbled Zane, stepping closer.

Falk sighed and shook his head. ‘Young men and their machismo! They learn, in time – if they don’t get themselves killed first.’ He spoke to his companion in muted Hebrew, causing Zane to retreat and lower his head, then addressed the couple again. ‘Anyway, I can see your bodyguard coming back, so we shall leave you in peace. Until we meet again, Dr Wilde, Mr Chase.’ He gave them a cheery wave, then headed away down the street, Zane at his side.

Nina watched them go, still slightly bewildered by events, then looked around at Deyab’s slightly alarmed voice. ‘Dr Wilde! You said you would wait at the restaurant.’

‘Change of plan,’ Eddie told him. He gave the street’s other denizens a cautious once-over, Falk’s revelations now weighing on his mind, but nobody showed the remotest interest in the two foreigners. ‘Did you get Macy back to the hotel?’

‘Yes,’ Deyab assured him. ‘But you should have waited for me. I could get into trouble for leaving you—’

‘It’s okay, we won’t tell anyone,’ Nina assured him. ‘And nothing happened.’ She noticed that he was staring at the dirt on Eddie’s jacket. ‘Except that Eddie had too much beer and tripped on the sidewalk.’

Deyab looked perturbed. ‘But you only had two drinks.’

‘Guess I can’t take my booze,’ said Eddie. ‘Come on, then. Now you’ve found us, let’s go back to the hotel.’

‘Good idea,’ said Nina. As they set off, she glanced back for any sign of Falk and Zane, but the two Mossad agents had vanished into the crowd.

7

‘So, what’s your big problem with the Mossad?’ Nina whispered to Eddie.

The pair were in the back of Deyab’s Mercedes, Macy up front with their driver. The bodyguard had the radio on, listening to a mix of news and traffic reports, but Nina still kept her voice low. Deyab was, after all, an Egyptian government operative, and while Egypt and Israel had for the most part left behind the conflicts that led to war in 1973, she still didn’t want to find out how he would react to the revelation that she and Eddie had been in contact with Israeli agents.

‘Don’t get me fucking started,’ Eddie muttered. ‘They just waltz in and do whatever the fuck they want without giving a damn about how it’ll affect anyone else – even their allies. I was on a mission in Iraq where we were supposed to recover an Iraqi chemical weapons specialist—’

‘I thought they didn’t actually have chemical weapons?’

‘They didn’t have chemical
WMDs
, that was all bollocks, but they still had some nasty shit left over from the Iran–Iraq war that they could use on a small scale. But we managed to meet this guy and guarantee his safety, and were about to bring him in when Mossad fucking assassinated him, right in front of us!’

‘My God!’ said Nina. ‘What happened?’

‘We were coming out of a house when they popped him with a sniper rifle. Blew his head right off. We went after the shooter – we didn’t know who’d done it – and we found these four Israeli tossers chilling out half a mile away, waiting for us. They gave us some code word and told us to pass it on to our command, and when we did, we were told to let them go, just like that.’

‘Seriously? The Israelis murdered someone the SAS was protecting and got away with it?’

The Englishman made a sound of deep disdain. ‘Ever heard of the USS
Liberty
?’

‘No, what is it?’

‘An NSA spy ship, but it was part of the US Navy. It was in the Med keeping an eye on things during the Six Day War in ’67. The Israelis decided they didn’t want anyone spying on them, so even though it was a US-flagged ship in international waters, they bombed the shit out of it, torpedoed it, and dropped napalm on it for good luck. Killed a fair chunk of the crew, and injured a lot of the others.’

‘They attacked an American ship? But we’re their ally!’

‘Yeah, and if they’ll do that to an ally, think what they’ll do to people they
don’t
like. After what happened in Iraq, I read up about some of the other shit they’ve got up to. If they can get away with bombing a US warship – and it wasn’t mistaken identity, they knew exactly what they were doing – taking out one Iraqi under SAS protection is nothing. Basically, they do whatever they want, and the American government looks the other way ’cause the pro-Israel lobby in Washington is so powerful.’

Nina was uncomfortable about the turn the conversation had taken. ‘I’m not disputing what you’ve just told me, but that sounds . . .’ She tried to phrase it in a non-confrontational way, but struggled to find any suitable term. ‘Kind of like anti-Semitic paranoia,’ she was forced to finish.

‘Yeah, and that’s what happens,’ Eddie said, frowning. ‘You say Israel’s done anything bad, you’re immediately accused of being anti-Semitic. But a government isn’t a race or a religion – and neither’s an intelligence agency.’ He leaned deeper into the seat. ‘Not that I’m saying
everything
they do is wrong. Having a Nazi-hunting unit is something I can totally get into.’

Macy glanced over her shoulder. ‘What can you get into?’

‘A big woolly sweater with a cat on it,’ he told her, instantly switching his expression to a grin.

She gave him an uncertain look. ‘Okay, sometimes I just don’t understand British humour.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ Nina assured her, relieved that the awkward moment had passed.

The excavation site came into view ahead. ‘We are here,’ Deyab announced.

‘Looks like there’s even more security than yesterday,’ said Nina.

‘We are taking no chances,’ said the Egyptian as he approached the gate. Unlike the previous day, the Mercedes was waved to a stop. He pressed the boot release so one of the ASPS could check the back of the car, while another cast a stern eye over its occupants before waving to a comrade. The gate was opened; Deyab waited for the boot to be slammed shut, then drove into the compound.

More ASPS stood watch inside. Deyab pulled up. ‘There is Dr Assad.’

The Egyptian official was talking to Habib outside the cabins. ‘Ah, good morning!’ he called as the visitors emerged from the car. ‘This is a very exciting day.’

‘It is,’ Nina said, greeting him. ‘Thank you for letting me be a part of it. A small, non-interfering part,’ she added as Banna came out of the cabin. The bearded young man gave her a dirty look, but said nothing to the new arrivals, heading straight for the shelter.

‘Dr Schofield and Dr Rashad are already inside,’ Assad told her. ‘Did you have a good evening?’

‘It was . . . interesting,’ she said as they moved towards the entrance. ‘But yes, we did, thanks.’

‘Good, good. There is no hospitality like Egyptian hospitality!’ He reached the ladder. Banna had already descended, but did not wait for the others, instead stalking away down the tunnel. ‘Mind your step.’

Assad went down first, Nina following. ‘How long before they open the door?’ she asked him.

He glanced after the retreating Banna. ‘Not long. Ubayy was working down here very early this morning. If I had not told him to wait, I am sure he would have opened it himself by now!’

‘The lad’s keen,’ said Eddie.

‘It is how he has reached such heights so quickly. I am sure you were once the same, Dr Wilde.’

‘It seems such a long time ago, I can hardly remember,’ Nina replied wistfully.

‘Ha! Wait until you get to my age,’ said Assad as they started walking. ‘
That
is when the achievements of your youth seem so far away!’

Eddie gave his wife a reassuring squeeze as he saw her downcast expression, then they followed the Egyptian through the antechamber and around the twisting passage to the great bronze door. Schofield and Dina were already talking with Banna. More equipment had been set up since the previous day; a motorised winch was braced by scaffolding against the floor and ceiling, and the dig’s leader was fussing with a contraption mounted on a bench.

‘Christ,’ said Eddie. ‘Looks like it was built by Professor Branestawm.’

Nina didn’t get the reference, guessing that it was excessively British, but it was easy to guess what he meant from the device’s makeshift appearance. A set of thin steel arms rose from a geared mechanism with a crank handle and entered a narrow slot at one side of the barrier, the endoscopic camera’s flexible lens tube also disappearing inside the opening. The monitor screen had been duct-taped to the door beside the apparatus. ‘That’ll open the lock?’

‘It will,’ said Banna, not deigning to look around at her. ‘Unlike some people, who gain entry to sealed archaeological sites by crashing helicopters into them, I do not want to risk damaging the tomb’s contents.’

‘Hey, that only happened once,’ Eddie objected. ‘Or was it twice? You lose track after a while.’

‘Thanks for the help, hon,’ said Nina with a thin smile. ‘Bill, hi. Seems you’re all set here.’

‘Just about,’ Schofield replied as he finished typing on a laptop. ‘I know that thing looks a bit Rube Goldberg, but it should lift the latch. Once that’s done, we can start winching the door open.’

‘How much does it weigh?’ Macy asked.

‘We reckon about two tons. I wouldn’t stand in the way while it’s swinging open!’ The sandy-haired man chuckled, then became more serious. ‘Have you heard anything more about this potential threat?’ he asked Nina. ‘Are we still safe to proceed?’

‘We
will
open the burial chamber this morning,’ Banna insisted before she could answer. ‘The site is like a fortress now. Nobody could possibly get in.’

‘Let’s hope nobody even tries,’ said Eddie. ‘Sooner whatever’s inside is safe, the sooner we can go home and get on with our lives again.’

Nina decided to ignore his pointed remark, settling instead for watching the final preparations. Banna tweaked his elaborate lockpick for a good fifteen minutes, examining the endoscopic display with laser-beam intensity until he was satisfied. He spoke in Arabic to Assad, Dina and Habib, then added as an afterthought: ‘I am ready.’

‘Don’t let me hold you up,’ said Nina.

‘I won’t.’ He looked at Schofield, who had set up a video camera on a tripod. ‘Are you recording?’ The American nodded. ‘Good. I shall begin.’

Banna reverted to Arabic, giving a short speech to the camera for archaeological posterity, then turned with a theatrical flourish to his apparatus. He took hold of the crank handle and carefully rotated it, delivering a hushed running commentary as he watched the screen. The display showed pristine steel gently shifting amongst dull bronze.

Everyone stared, the observers holding their breath in anticipation . . .

One of the bronze levers shifted upwards. A faint
clink
came from within the door.

‘Wait, that’s it?’ Eddie complained after Banna smugly reported success. ‘All that bloody build-up just to move a little piece of metal? I could’ve done it with a coat-hanger.’

‘Archaeology is not all about exploding airliners and crashing submarines,’ said Banna. ‘Now we can use the winch.’

The next twenty minutes was spent dismantling the lockpick so that the winch’s steel cable could be secured to the door. At last, Banna concluded his careful examination of the hook and spoke to Schofield’s camera again. Dina used a cell phone to record events from a second viewpoint. ‘You might need to move back a bit,’ Eddie whispered to her, getting a puzzled look in return. ‘So you can fit his ego in.’ She tried to suppress a smile.

Banna kept talking. ‘Ubayy?’ Assad gently interrupted. ‘The door? It is perhaps time to open it.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Banna, flicking a dismissive hand. ‘This is a great and very proud moment,’ he announced to the camera. ‘The tomb of Alexander the Great has been lost for centuries, and we are the ones who will open it again. The hidden secrets of one of the most important figures in history shall again be revealed to the world.’

With that, he activated the winch.

Nina had half prepared herself for something awful to happen, but the machine started up with a muted electric whine and slowly began to wind in the cable. It did not take long for the slack to be drawn up and the line to become taut.

Macy cringed at a scraping rasp from the ceiling. ‘That’s not going to come down, is it?’ she asked as the end of a scaffolding pole crunched against the ancient stone.

‘That bracing should hold up to four tons,’ Schofield assured her.

‘It’s still causing some damage,’ said Nina as dust dropped to the floor.

‘Not as much as if we had blasted the door open with explosives,’ Banna sniped over the winch’s noise. Assad sighed and said something in Arabic; from the younger man’s irked expression, Nina guessed it had been a rebuke.

But she was no longer interested in Banna’s snide remarks, all her attention now on the door. A deep moan echoed through the passage, the noise of metal reluctantly sliding over stone. Puffs of dust wafted from the edges of the great barrier as, with almost painful slowness, it began to move.

‘It’s coming!’ said Schofield unnecessarily. Unpleasant shrills filled the tunnel as the door ground over the floor.

‘Christ,’ Eddie grumbled, putting his fingers in his ears. ‘I’m already half deaf, and that’s not bloody helping.’

Nina, however, moved closer as an opening appeared. More dust swirled out as air flowed freely through the underground tunnel for the first time in sixteen centuries. ‘Get some more lights on it,’ she said.

Assad pre-empted another stinging comment from Banna. ‘That
was
part of our plan, Dr Wilde,’ he told her with a gentle smile. ‘We have been preparing for this for quite some time.’

‘Okay, okay,’ she said, reluctantly stepping back. ‘And you can wipe that grin off your face,’ she told Eddie, without looking around at him.

‘I’m not grinning,’ Eddie lied. Macy giggled.

Another minute passed – then Banna suddenly cried out in Arabic as something gave way. The door jerked open wider before crunching to a halt, wedged against an uneven paving slab. He hurriedly switched off the winch. ‘Is it damaged?’ Schofield called, going to the machine.

‘Forget the winch,’ said Nina, trying to control her breathing in her excitement. The gap was now wide enough for a person to fit through. ‘It’s open, the door’s open.’

Banna recovered his composure. ‘I shall enter first,’ he said, going to a box of equipment and taking out a large LED lantern. ‘Dina, Bill, we must record this.’ Schofield detached the larger camera from its tripod.

Macy tried to peer through the gap. ‘Can you see anything?’

‘The back of Banna’s head,’ said Eddie. He watched as the Egyptian raised his lamp, then cautiously slipped through the new opening. ‘Okay, three, two, one –
kashung
! Death trap.’

The archaeologists all gave him unimpressed looks. ‘That’s not funny, Eddie,’ Nina told him.

‘Tchah! If there is one, don’t blame me, then.’ By now, the other Egyptians and Schofield had collected their own lights and made their way to the door, Nina following suit. Eddie shrugged and joined Macy at the back of the line. ‘Okay, what’s inside?’

Nina waited for Schofield to manoeuvre through the gap, then squeezed after him. ‘Ah . . . a lot of impressive stuff,’ she called back in awe.

Banna’s belief about what lay beyond the bronze door had been correct. They had entered a treasury, a space to display the tributes paid to the dead king. The entrance was in one corner. The room was almost as large as the antechamber, more rows of pillars supporting its vaulted roof – and everywhere the eerie blue-white glows of the lanterns reached, they revealed wonders.

Statues gazed back at the new arrivals, the figures of men and animals surrounded by weapons and armour, furniture, chests and vases . . . all of it glinting with gold and silver, multitudes of inset gemstones winking like stars. ‘Whoa,’ Macy whispered, astounded.