Europa Conspiracy (Babylon Rising 3) (20 page)

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archaeology student who had taught Murphy the secret of drunken-man fighting.

"Professor Murphy, when a drunken man falls, he is soft, like a rag. He does not hurt himself When he stands up, he is hard to hit, like a sapling swaying in the wind. And when he strikes, no one expects it."

Murphy began to stagger, as if he had been seriously injured by the kick. He looked like he would fall over at any second.

Rashad smiled and went in for the kill. He was going to use a tiger claw strike to Murphy's throat and break his larynx. Murphy's head was drooping; he looked too injured even to lift his head.

Rashad lunged with his right arm outstretched. As he moved forward, Murphy glided slightly to the right and planted his foot. At the same time, he drove his right fist around, top center knuckle leading, into the left side of Rashad's neck just under the jawbone. Instantly paralyzed, the Arab dropped to the ground in a heap.

Murphy bent over and looked at him.
That will probably take him about two months to get over
, he thought grimly.

Murphy and Isis straightened their clothing and hid out in the back of a busy coffee shop for three hours before returning to the library. They needed to retrieve Dr. Anderson's folders and journal, but they wanted to be sure the coast was clear. They entered the library carefully, looking all around for Talon and his associates. Seeing none of them, they climbed to the third floor and went back to the table where they had been working. The table was empty, and Murphy's briefcase was gone.

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"Do you suppose the library staff picked it up, Michael?" Isis asked, a hopeful note in her voice. "I certainly hope so. I don't like the alternative."

Alvena Smidt was studying the difference between "primogenitor" and "primogeniture" when Murphy and Isis approached the front desk.

"Excuse me," Murphy said. "We happened to leave some papers on a desk on the third floor. Would any of the library staff have picked them up?"

Smidt looked at Murphy and Isis and smiled. "Why, I'll bet you're the people the gentleman from South Africa was looking for. How did you meet him? Did you go to school in South Africa?"

"South Africa?"

"Oh, yes. The moment I met your friend I could tell he was from South Africa. I guessed that he spoke Afrikaans, and he said I was right. He was well-spoken and quite educated. And he had--"

"Excuse me," Murphy interrupted. "About the papers?"

"Oh, yes. Your friend picked them up for you. He said you forgot your briefcase and he would take it to you. He was such a nice man. Very soft-spoken and polite. He left about three hours ago. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you," Murphy replied, turning from the desk.

Murphy and Isis paused on the steps of the library.

"There goes all of our clues about the Anti-Christ," he said in a dejected tone.

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Isis didn't say anything. Nothing she could say would bring back Dr. Anderson's notes. Murphy brushed his fingers through his hair. "South Africa," he murmured. "That's interesting. At least we learned something new about Talon. He's from South Africa and he speaks Afrikaans. That may give us a way to track down more information about him."

Isis could see Murphy's expression change as he looked into her eyes. "I'm glad you're safe," he said soberly.

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THIRTY-SIX

The night of the attack, Babylon, 539 B.C.

SULAIMAN SLOWLY CLIMBED the long stairway up to the king's banquet hall. The night was warm and the moon was full. Torches lined both sides of the stairs, and it was easy to see. The smell of jasmine was in the air. He was looking for and alert to any danger that might be lurking in the shadows. As he glanced around he did not see any danger, only laughing couples half drunk with wine and groping each other.

As captain of the king's royal guard, it was his job to ensure that his men were on duty and not swept up in the debauchery of the evening. It was difficult for young soldiers to stand by watching others indulging themselves and keep their minds on the task of protecting the king and his nobles.

This was not the first time that King Belshaigar had invited his friends to a night of revelry. In fact, these parties were becoming more and more frequent. This was, however, the largest one Sulaiman had seen. The wine was flowing freely among the thousand
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guests. And tonight the celebration wasn't restricted to the palace
--
all of Babylon was caught up in the excitement.

"General Azzgam," young Captain Hakeem said, saluting. "Do you have any more men you can spare? General Jawhar is pleading for help. He says that we must get the trench dug within the hour. He thinks that he will be able to breach the Euphrates into the marsh above the city. They have about thirty cubits to go."

"Tell him I can give him two thousand." He signaled his aide, gave him the order, and sent the captain running into the night.

General Jawhar, pleased with the reinforcements, sent a message back to General Azzam. The soldiers would be readied. As soon as the water was drained from the moat, a detachment would be sent under the wall. According to the two deserters, Gobryas and Gadatas, there was a secret way into Babylon. Once the troops got in, they would open the main gate and let in the rest of the army.

As Sulaiman entered the great hall, one of the royal guards came running to him. "Sir, the king is calling for you!"

Sulaiman ran to find the king. "I just had a great idea," the king exclaimed. "I remember as a small child that King Nebuchadnezzar took me into the temple treasury of Marduk. He showed magnificent treasures captured in battle
--
many gold and silver cups taken from the temple of Jehovah in Jerusalem. Go down to the treasury and bring all of the cups to the great hall. I want to serve my guests in those beautiful goblets."

"Yes, O King," Sulaiman said, bowing and turning to leave.

Within fifteen minutes he had returned with servants carrying
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armloads of gold and silver cups. Soon they were cleaned and filled with wine.

The glittering goblets were passed out to the princes and their wives and concubines. They drunkenly toasted each other and their idols. Their laughter became louder and their toasts more coarse.

Suddenly a loud scream was heard over the din in the great hall. Everyone turned and looked. Those closest to one side of the great hall could see the fingers of a man's hand writing on the plaster wall. There was no arm or body, just the hand and fingers.

Belshaigar pushed forward so he could see clearly. At the sight of the hand and fingers moving of their own volition, the blood drained from his face. Terrified, he collapsed to the floor, shouting, "Call the magicians! Bring the astrologers! Gather the soothsayers and sorcerers. Get the Chaldeans! Find anyone who can read the handwriting on the wall! I will make the man who can read it the third most powerful ruler in the kingdom. I will dress him in a purple robe and give him royal honor. I will put a gold chain around his neck. I need to know what it says!"

Women ran screaming from the hall, followed by their husbands or lovers.

Sulaiman and the royal guards, their swords drawn, were prepared for battle. They were forming ranks to protect the king. The terror on their ruler's face unnerved the officers and nobles.

Soon the sounds of yelling and screaming reached the queen mother in her chambers. She rushed to the banquet hall to find the king curled up in a fetal position, sobbing.

"Calm yourself, your majesty," she said firmly, pulling Belshaigar into a sitting position. "There is a man in your kingdom who has within him the spirit of the holy gods. During your
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father's reign this Daniel was found to be as full of wisdom and understanding as a god himself He was made chief of all the magicians, astrologers, Chaldeans, and soothsayers of Babylon. Daniel can interpret dreams and explain riddles. He will tell you what the writing means."

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THIRTY-SEVEN

ABRAMS DISCOVERED that it was not easy to get to Presidio, Texas. First he had to fly to Dallas, then he took a commuter plane to El Paso, where he rented a car. The two-hundred-and-fifty-mile drive from El Paso took him southeast paralleling the Rio Grande until he reached Esperanza and then east to Van Horn, where he entered the low rolling Sierra Viejas. At Marra he turned south and drove another fifty miles to the sleepy little town of Presidio on the edge of the Rio Grande. Across the river was the Mexican border town of Ojinaga.

After stopping for gas and directions, Abrams drove through the main business area to a very poor section of the small town. It didn't take him long to find the rundown Pancho Villa Motel. It was surrounded by boarded-up businesses, broken-down homes, and small wooden shacks.

He glanced around to see if anyone was watching. The street had little traffic and no one was out walking during

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siesta time. Only two beat-up cars were parked in the motel's lot. He parked, walked to the door of room 17, and knocked. The curtain on the window moved slightly and then he heard the
click
of the lock.

A big man with long curly black hair and a full beard opened the door. He had on a dirty T-shirt, exposing muscular arms, and he wore faded and ripped jeans. His sparkling brown eyes didn't fit his worn-out clothing.

"Levi! It's so good to see you again. Come in quickly."

Abrams entered the room and closed the door behind him. "That's some disguise, David," he said, grinning. "Even your wife and children wouldn't recognize you."

"Levi, I'm glad they sent you. This stakeout has been boring."

"Aren't they all?"

"True. I've been living in this mansion for about twenty days. During the daytime I walk about with a gunnysack picking up cans and bottles. The locals think I'm just another wanderer trying to make a few pennies like they do. Then I saw four Arabs move into one of the old sheds down by the river. It doesn't even have any running water. Just an outhouse behind the shed. They must have crossed the border during the night. They have been very low profile, keeping to themselves and going out only for food. Outwardly they look poor and ragged like everyone else... until they pull out their cell phones."

"Have you learned anything else?"

"Two days ago I followed two of them. They went to a used car lot in town and bought two old vans. I was watching from a distance. I could see them pull out a wad

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of cash to pay the dealer. I called the office then. I think they're getting ready to move."

"I've been given the green light to put the pressure on," Abrams said. "Somehow we have to get more information. Is there a way we can get one of them alone?"

"I think so," David replied. "Each day around eight o'clock when it starts to get dark one of them gets into a van and drives to a store. I've been following him in that old Chevy out front. We could probably take him then."

Abrams and David pulled in to the store's lot a few moments after the van parked.

Oh, no! He might have made me!
David turned and walked away, attempting to look as if he was completely uninterested.

Abrams glanced up when he saw the Arab running out of the store and rushing into the van.

What's going on?

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A moment later David was running out of the store. "He made me," he called. "Quick, let's go. Don't lose him!"

The van was squealing out of the parking lot as David climbed in and closed the door. Abrams stepped on the gas.

At one corner the van almost rolled, and the driver could barely maintain control. He sideswiped a parked car and continued. Soon they were on a straight stretch away from town. Abrams attempted to drive alongside the van to force it off the road.

"Levi, he's on a cell phone talking to someone," David shouted.

The words were just out of David's mouth when the Arab swerved, making Abrams step on the brakes.

"Look, Levi! The lights are beginning to flash at that railroad crossing ahead."

The two men could see the lights of the approaching train, but they couldn't tell how fast it was moving.

"I think he's going to try to cross before the train gets there. We'll lose him if he does." Abrams stepped on the gas pedal.

The front of the van crossed the tracks just as the train hit it about midpoint. There was a tremendous crash, and the gas tank exploded.

Abrams braked hard. The two men sat there for a moment, watching a ball of fire being shoved down the track by a long snake.

They could see the train beginning to stop about a quarter of a mile down the track.

"Levi, we've got to get back to that shack," David