The Jericho Deception: A Novel (44 page)

Axe noticed the taste of sand first. Dry and grainy, it stuck to his lips. Gradually the sounds returned, as if someone was slowly turning up the volume on a distant TV. The voices confused him. Snippets of German and Italian.

He forced his eyes open, then snapped them shut, praying for the hammering inside his head to clear so he could think. He rolled to his side and drew a deep breath. Bile rose to the back of his throat. He swallowed. The second time he opened his eyes, he cracked them open into a slit. A sandy stone floor came into focus. A few feet from him stood the base of an immense column. Then the memories flooded back.

He’d been finishing off the Arab doctor when someone attacked him from behind. He didn’t see his assailant, but the thought that it must have been the lanky professor brought him out of his haze. He pushed himself to his hands and knees. His pounding headache brought with it a vertigo that tilted the ground at an unnatural angle. A few feet from him was an iron rod. He winced at the sight of it.

How had Lightman snuck up on him? His training had prepared him to be hyperaware of his surroundings. Then he remembered the strange sensation that had seized him before the attack. He grabbed the warm limestone of the column and hauled himself to his feet. He flexed his quads, his hams, and his calves in rapid succession. As the blood pumped into his muscles, the spinning subsided.

A quick survey revealed that a dozen tourists had wandered into the temple hall. His targets weren’t among them. A door to his left led into another courtyard. How long had he been unconscious? The Jordanian wouldn’t get far with that knife wound. He glanced at the droplets of blood on his right knuckles. Had he punctured the kidney? He’d flinched at the last second, just as he was plunging the blade forward. As much as he was hurting, however, the three of them would be slower. He willed his thighs to move, imagining that they were giant pistons pushing forward the powerful machine that was his body. On heavy lifting days, he would often visualize his body parts as indestructible mechanical devices made of titanium: levers, pulleys, and pistons.

As he headed toward the doorway, he brought his sleeve to his mouth. “Lost contact,” he said. “The professor’s here too. Anyone have a bead on them?”

He would have to think of a better way to explain what happened other than admitting the professor snuck up on him and hit him with a rod, but that could wait until after the mission was successful.

His earpiece was silent. “Dawkins, check in. Over.”

He touched his ear. The earpiece was still in place. Then he noticed his shirt was untucked.

“Damn it!” They’d taken his radio.

He stepped through the doorway into a courtyard enclosed by stone walls. More tourists ambled about, but his targets weren’t among them. In addition to the doorway he’d come through, two other openings led out to different areas of the complex. He picked the one straight ahead. Just outside the courtyard a monumental granite obelisk had fallen to the ground. Past it a lake stretched for several hundred yards. They would feel safer in the open.

When he reached the doorway, he saw a group gathered by the obelisk. He stopped. The tourists surrounded a man lying on the ground.
The Jordanian doctor
. Kneeling next to Mousa was an Egyptian security guard.

“Damn!” he muttered.

The operation was going to hell. He searched the tourists surrounding the man. Neither the girl nor the professor was there. He looked closer at Mousa, who lay on his side, facing away from him.

He grinned at seeing one good piece of news. The knife was still embedded to the hilt, and the Jordanian wasn’t moving. He must have struck the kidney after all. Before the Egyptian guard could look in his direction, Axe turned and headed back through the enclosed courtyard toward the other doorway.

“I still don’t feel right leaving him,” Rachel said. Her tight grip on Ethan’s hand threatened to cut off his circulation.

He led her through the maze of the Karnak Temple Complex. Two obelisks towered over them, piercing the pure blue sky as they were designed to do in honor of the sun god, Ra.

“I don’t either, but he was right. We’ll be safer if we split up. He needs to get to the hospital right away.”

Mousa had told the tourists in the other courtyard that he’d been stabbed from behind in a robbery attempt. They’d agreed that revealing their involvement in a CIA conspiracy would not help matters.

“So how do we get out of here?” Rachel asked.

“Good question.”

Ethan paused and surveyed their surroundings. On the far side of the two obelisks, he saw hundreds of stone blocks scattered around a courtyard. Some of the blocks were almost as tall as he was. About twenty yards into the piles of stone, the blocks began to take shape, forming walls. Farther in, one wall rose over seventy feet tall. Another ancient temple must have stood there, he guessed.

He would need to ask someone for directions. He’d become disoriented during the events of the past few minutes. He looked around. For the moment, they were alone.

“The bigger question is, what do we do when we leave here?”

Rachel grabbed his arm. “I called my father before we left the hotel.”

“He got my text?”

“He’s been totally freaked the past few days. My roommates called the New Haven police when they got home and saw that I was missing and the bathroom door was broken. Then after you texted him and your call disconnected, he assumed the worst. He’s been in President Martin’s office all day.”

Ethan had only been in the Yale president’s office once, for a cocktail reception when he was first hired as an assistant professor. The mahogany bookcase-lined suite had smelled of tradition.

“They’ve had some heated calls with Washington.”

“Washington?” His doubt about whether he could trust Houston surfaced again. “Who?”

“If you would stop with the questions for a minute, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Sorry.” He smiled, but before he could ask her to continue, a movement from his peripheral vision caught his attention. He swiveled his head. Jogging
toward them from an adjacent courtyard was the hulking figure of James Axelrod.

“Oh, no!” Rachel cried.

Ethan took her hand and pulled her into the maze of the fallen stone blocks.

The pounding from the back of Axe’s head had spread to behind his eyes, but he’d suffered worse pain during some of his tougher workouts. Sometimes the increase in blood pressure from a heavy set would cause a migraine, but he never stopped his workout. Besides, his targets were right in front of him. No way he was screwing up this time.

Fortunately for him, they’d just made a tactical mistake. They’d ducked into a bunch of rubble where they would be hidden from the Egyptians. The only exit to the temple complex was to his left, and his men had that covered. They might be able to avoid him among the rocks for a minute or so, but they were trapped. He’d seen the tall wall rising from the opposite side of the fallen stones.

His only weapon, the knife, was stuck in the Jordanian’s back. But against these two he wouldn’t need one. Their necks would snap like brittle branches. He picked up his pace as he passed the first block of granite. The officer who’d found the Jordanian would be calling for backup. He needed to get to the professor and the girl before the area was swarming with tourist police.

They dashed left and then right, trying to put as many rocks and turns between them and their pursuer as they could. Ethan heard Rachel’s breath coming in short gasps. Her dilated pupils made her blue eyes seem black; sweat glistened on her neck, and her hand was cinched tight around his.

She slowed and looked behind them. “Not there,” she panted. “Maybe we lost him?”

Ethan kept her moving forward, dodging another pile of rubble from the collapsed temple, this one taller than the others. “We need to make our way back to the entrance and the tourist police.”

“I’m so turned around—which way is it?”

Ethan paused and surveyed the ruins. The two obelisks they’d passed a minute earlier cast sword-like shadows across their path. The various stacks of stone and the tall foundations obscured his view of the main temple complex.

“I have no idea.”

Then he heard the sound of heavy footsteps falling on the stone path on the other side of the near rocks. He pulled her hand and continued forward. “Keep moving!” he whispered.

Somehow the man who had been lying unconscious from a blow to the head minutes ago was gaining on them.

They dodged around the foundation of another crumbling wall and then froze in their tracks. Ahead of them was the wall Ethan had seen earlier. It was as high as a six- or seven-story building. He flicked his head left and right. After twenty yards in each direction, the path was blocked off by fallen rubble. They’d reached the temple’s rear wall—the only wall that still stood at its original height, a dead-end.

“We’re trapped.” The strain in Rachel’s voice was evident.

Axe would be on top of them in seconds.

Ethan searched the ground for anything he could use as a weapon, but the rocks that comprised the temple rubble were all too large to move, much less pick up. Even if he found one, he feared he would be no match for the combat-trained man. Earlier he’d had surprise on his side. Now he had nothing.

His heart thumped in his chest like a bass drum at a rock concert. The wall obstructing their path was made of the same stone blocks they’d dodged around to end up where they were. The blocks were staggered, often with several inches overlapping the edges. He gazed upward. About three-quarters of the way up, the blocks were offset even more, creating several ledges wide enough to stand on. He had an idea.

He turned to Rachel. She was young, in shape, and had a petite frame. Their pursuer had to weigh over two-fifty. He grabbed her shoulders.

“Ever done the rock climbing wall at Payne Whitney?” If they could climb to one of those ledges, they could yell for the police above the maze of ruins. He didn’t think Axe would attack them in full view of the authorities.

She shook her head. “Not a fan of heights.” She cut her gaze to the wall. “You’re not suggesting that—”

“It’s our only escape.”

Her eyes were wide in fear and her bangs were damp with perspiration. “Ethan, I—”

Axe would appear any second. They were out of time and options. He guided her hands to the stone.

“Climb like you’re going up a ladder. Use your legs more than your arms, and don’t look down.”

She turned her head toward his, kissed him on the lips, and started to climb.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you.”