The Moses Legacy (13 page)

Goliath had decided not to take the taxi across the spur road to the western valley. That would have created one more witness and thus one more person to kill. Instead he had walked across. This was not something forbidden, or even discouraged. Indeed, tourists were told that it was the best way to enjoy the view. However, they were warned that the walk there and back would take two to three hours and they should only attempt it if they were fit. Most important of all, they should bring plenty of water and drink it regularly.

Goliath knew that he was fit enough to make it easily, and his height and long strides meant that he could do the walk quicker than most. He knew also that Akil Mansoor was a very determined man and there was presumably a lot that he wanted to show Daniel Klein. This offered him a perfect opportunity.

As he approached, he saw an old man in traditional Bedouin costume sitting idly by a hill smoking a hookah pipe.

What on earth…?

Then he realized when he saw a jeep parked only a few yards away. The hill wasn't just a hill, it was a cave… a tomb. And this man was the guardian of the tomb.

They're in the tomb!

And that meant a perfect target.

As he walked along slowly, the guardian looked up from his pipe. Goliath realized that he might arouse some suspicion, so he waved casually and made his face look confused and uncertain, like a lost tourist. He had every right to be here. The western valley was not out of bounds, even if the tombs were not open.

‘Oh, er… excuse me,' he said. ‘Do you speak English?'

A lot of the Bedouin guides did speak English, making money from the tourist trade, but Goliath wasn't sure if a tomb guardian would. The last thing he wanted was for this man to run off to the tomb calling for Mansoor or the others. But fortunately the old Bedouin smiled.

‘Yes… a little.'

‘I was wondering if you could help me. I'd like to know if any of these tombs are open?'

‘Not to the public,' said the guardian as Goliath drew closer. ‘But one of them is open at the moment, and some important people are there. I can ask them if they will give you permission to—'

Before he could finish, Goliath took him out with a single chop, just below the ear. As the man fell, Goliath moved round him, grabbed and locked the V formation of his left biceps and forearm under the man's chin and with a crossing-over motion of his right arm, snapped the man's neck.

Goliath didn't even wince at the crunch, he simply dragged the Bedouin to the entrance to the tomb. The door was made of heavy iron and had a key still in the padlock – a thick snap-shut padlock, not one of those cheap jobs that you can pick with a hairpin.

When he reached the doorway, he leaned in to hear what was going on. He heard voices, male and female, engaged in
earnest conversation about hymns and psalms. It was, no doubt, all very interesting. But not today. These people were dabbling in affairs that were not of this earth, and soon they too would no longer be on this earth. He threw the guardian's body into the tomb, moved back and slammed the door after him. Then, with a swift movement, he closed the padlock and heard it click.

‘Hallo!' a woman's voice rang out from the tomb. ‘Who's there?'

He heard a rumbling exchange of voices in English, but it was no longer of interest to him. He had more important things to do.

He didn't know how long it would take them to die, and therein lay the problem. Had they told anyone where they were going? Even if they hadn't said exactly, would their approximate location be enough to find them?

There was still, however, one factor that might give away their location: the jeep. It was big enough to be picked up by a satellite or an aeroplane. But then again, he realized, that wasn't really a problem after all. In fact, it would also provide an easy way of getting a sample of their clothes.

Quick as a flash, he got into the jeep and drove back along the spur road to the main valley.

Gabrielle had been the first one to hear something going on above them. In fact, she was the only one to realize the significance of it. The others had heard the door slamming, but assumed it was the wind. Her initial inquiry in English had received no response, prompting Mansoor to switch to Arabic.

‘Nasir!
aYn a'aNt!
' shouted Mansoor.

Gabrielle and Daniel both understood. ‘Nasir, where are you?'

It was not a case of shouting from fear or anger, he had raised his voice simply because he wanted to be heard. But the silence that followed was frightening.

‘Nasir?…
Hl Huneka
… Nasir?'

‘M
Yhdth,'
Gabrielle shouted in her own flawless Arabic.
‘M
Yhdth.'
She was asking what was happening.

Daniel was wondering that too. He hadn't yet reached the panic stage, but he was concerned.

What
was
happening? Why had they heard the door slam? He could understand an old man like the guardian suffering a stroke or a heart attack. But that wouldn't explain the slamming of the door.

‘I think he locked us in,' Daniel proffered.

Mansoor looked at Daniel contemptuously. ‘Why would he want to do that?'

‘I don't know,' said Daniel, embarrassed at the absurdity of his own suggestion, yet seeing no other answer. ‘Islamic fundamentalism, maybe. Anti-Westernism.'

‘He's a Bedouin,' Mansoor snapped tersely, as if this alone were sufficient explanation. And with that, Mansoor raced out of the chamber up the first staircase, with the others in hot pursuit.

As he followed, Daniel thought about Mansoor's words. Contrary to popular Western prejudices, Arabs in general were the least likely amongst Muslims to be radicalized. The Bedouin especially tended to be pro-Western and particularly pro-British.

The Bedouin had a strict code of honour and one could get on the wrong side of them if one failed to appreciate this. But neither Daniel nor Gabrielle had done anything to offend Nasir. Indeed, one of the traditions of the Arab code of honour – especially strong amongst the Bedouin – is
Dakheel
, the protection of the stranger who is within one's tent – even at the risk of one's own life.

And tent did not literally mean a tent only, but the area of one's home turf. To a family patriarch, this could be his house and those of his extended family. To a local sheikh or village
mukhtar
, it could mean his village or neighbourhood. In the case of Nasir, it would surely mean the tomb of which he was the appointed guardian. But as Daniel contemplated this, his thoughts were interrupted.

‘Oh my God!'
screamed Gabrielle as she reached the entrance corridor.

Mansoor was leaning over the dead figure of the guardian of the tomb.

Sarit had watched Daniel and the others drive across to the western valley, and she had watched Goliath follow them on foot. She waited for Goliath to disappear into the distance and then set off after him.

The killing of Goliath had now been sanctioned by the Israeli Prime Minister and it was up to Sarit to decide how to do it. Normally a
kidon
assassin would work in a team of at least four, but it had taken them time to catch up with Goliath and time was of the essence now that they knew his intentions.

Sarit's original plan had been to run him down on the way there and kill him. But she realized that someone in the main valley might see. Even if she didn't get caught on the spot, she knew her rented car could be identified and traced back to her. So she let him go and then followed, watching him through her binoculars.

But as she drove towards the valley, she saw the jeep that Daniel and the others had been in drive past her in the opposite direction. And it was not Mansoor at the wheel. Indeed, neither Mansoor nor either of the others were in the jeep. It was Goliath – and he was on his own.

In an instant she realized what had happened. She was too late! He must have killed them.

Damn!
She had screwed up, big time.

She realized now that she should have gone after him and run him over. Then, instead of worrying about people finding the body and linking it to the rented car of an Irish tourist, she should simply have buried him in the sand. They would never have found him.

Instead, she had given him time – time to do his dirty work. Time to kill three more people and time to get the clothing sample that he had been sent there to find. That was far more serious. Three people dead was bad enough, and that was on top of the other killings: Carmichael, Roksana and the nurse at the hospital. If Goliath was allowed to fulfil Senator Morris's evil scheme it could be the fate of an entire nation.

So she had to stop him – and stop him now.

But then another thought came to her. What if he hadn't killed the people in the tomb? What if he had merely locked them inside? What if they were still alive? Shouldn't she go there to check?

Then she realized why she couldn't do that. First of all, revealing herself to them would compromise her identity and her mission. Secondly, time was of the essence. They could probably survive in the tomb for several days – possibly even weeks if they had enough water. But if Goliath escaped now she might not get a second chance to catch up with him – at least not while it could make a difference.

Even in a worst-case scenario, they could survive for several hours, and she could always put in an anonymous call alerting the authorities to their whereabouts. But she couldn't afford to lose Goliath's trail. He already had a head start, but she was still in contention. Moreover, she had a pretty good idea where he was going.

She swung the car round and headed back along the spur road in pursuit of her quarry.

‘His neck's been broken,' said Mansoor. The sorrow in his voice was genuine; although he did not know the guardian personally, the man had been loyal. And he almost certainly had a family.

‘What are we going to do?' asked Gabrielle, her fear growing.

‘Let's not panic just yet,' said Mansoor.

‘But no one knows we're here!' she replied. ‘You never told anybody! You didn't phone in or anything.'

‘When we don't make contact tomorrow they'll know something is up. They'll know where to look. They'll see our jeep.'

‘If it's still there,' said Gabrielle. ‘I heard a car drive off.'

‘That must have been the car of whoever did this,' said Daniel. ‘Whoever locked us in must have got here somehow – presumably by car – and whatever you heard, it was probably them driving off.'

‘Not necessarily,' said Mansoor. ‘It's possible to walk across from the main valley.'

‘I've got an idea,' said Daniel, taking out his mobile phone.

Almost in unison, the other two whipped out theirs. Daniel pressed the button to illuminate his and noticed that there was no signal. He tried a number, but got nothing. A brief
glance at the others confirmed that they had not had better luck. He had hoped that because they were almost at surface level, they would get at least a weak signal – enough to call for help. Then he realized that they were behind an iron door and shielded on all sides by a thick layer of rock. Aside from that, the coverage in this country was none too good at the best of times.

‘We're gonna die here!' said Gabrielle, breaking down in tears and gasping for breath. Daniel put a comforting arm round her in the hope of calming her fears. Her sobbing declined in intensity and her breathing became shallower. Meanwhile, Mansoor quietly arranged the guardian's body into some semblance of a dignified position. And then, quite abruptly, a smile graced his lips.

‘What?' asked Daniel.

Mansoor reached into the tomb guardian's pockets to produce a giant bunch of keys.

For a second, Daniel too was caught up in the euphoria, but then reality set in. ‘What good does that do us? We can't reach the padlock.'

The door was shut not by a lock that could be reached from inside, but rather by a padlock on the outside. The door could only be unlocked from the other side.

Then Daniel saw something. ‘Look.'

The others turned in the direction he was pointing. It was a loose, fist-sized piece of rock, embedded in the wall, but with the break lines clearly visible.

‘What?' asked Gabrielle in confusion.

Mansoor understood. And as Daniel took out his pocket-knife and opened it to prise the rock out of the wall, Mansoor crouched down to help him. Between them, they managed to free the piece of rock, which was about the size of half a brick and had a nice pointed corner.

With the rock in his hand, Daniel charged at the iron door and began smashing away at a single point on its surface, near where the lock would be. Iron, when smashed repeatedly with the pressure on a single point, can eventually break. By hitting it repeatedly, Daniel was trying to puncture the iron door and then enlarge the hole sufficiently to reach through it. But after many attempts, all he had managed to do was make a dent in the heavy iron. And he had exhausted himself. Over the course of the next hour, Mansoor took over and then Gabrielle. Finally Daniel took the stone back and went at it with a vengeance.

‘There's a hole!'
he cried with delight, noticing a pinprick of light. It was very small, but it was progress, and it encouraged the others to take over and go at it with similar vigour.

Daniel wondered why no one heard the noise. To him it was deafening. Having heard the silence of the valley, it seemed strange that such a din did not carry. But then again, he realized that in the main valley the clamour made by the throngs of tourists would surely drown out the noise they were making. In any case, the distance was quite great and the fact that the noise of the tourists did not puncture the peace of the western valley testified to just how far apart those two worlds were.

But as they continued with their exhausting efforts, Daniel noticed two things. The first was that the hole was getting bigger and the second was that the light that was coming through the ever increasing gap was ebbing. It was getting on for half past six and the sun was setting.

A renewed sense of urgency set in and it manifested itself in the vigour with which Daniel wielded the stone as he attacked the hole. Finally, he stopped, exhausted. He held out the stone to Gabrielle, but she refused to take it. She was looking straight past him.

‘I think it's big enough,' she said.

Daniel turned and looked. It was hard to tell. The poor light inside the tomb and the dimming light outside made it hard to assess the size, and the jagged edges made it uncertain how safe it was to put one's hand through, not to mention one's wrist. Daniel would personally have preferred to enlarge the hole before trying, but he was ready to defer to Gabrielle.

‘Do you think you can reach through that?' he asked.

Gabrielle stared at him, not answering.

‘No, she can't,' said a voice behind him. ‘But I can.'

Daniel turned round to see Mansoor holding the key ready and realized that he was right. Gabrielle, because of her hand size and well-developed wrists, would not be able to reach through and neither could Daniel. But the more slender Mansoor might just be able to.

‘Please don't drop it,' said Daniel.

It wasn't intended to sound patronizing, but Mansoor responded with a withering look. Then, very slowly and carefully, he reached through with the key and tried to angle it towards the padlock. The other two saw the pained expression on his face as he rotated his arm in a desperate effort to get the key to where they needed it. And then he felt the key slipping in his sweaty fingers. He tried to pull his arm back in, but in his haste he cut his wrist on the jagged metal. Blood spurted from it and he cried out in pain.

The others watched in horror as they realized that both his hand and the key it was struggling to hold on to were still on the other side of the door, trapped in the jagged-edged hole.