Pharaoh (43 page)

The vehicle’s tyres were smoking, overheated by the friction, and the odour of burnt rubber was very powerful. Selim took his foot off the accelerator. ‘I’m afraid the tyres will burst,’ he said. ‘I have to back up and make it a clean break.’

‘No!’ shouted Blake. ‘If the chain snaps, the whiplash will kill you.’

‘One mile!’ yelled Sarah from above.

‘We have no choice,’ shouted Selim, starting to reverse.

But as he was about to accelerate, Blake stopped him. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Just a minute. Help me to take off the tailgate.’

Selim got out and helped Blake to take the tailgate off its hinges, then he wedged it behind the front seat.

‘This will protect us,’ he said, getting in next to the driver’s seat.

‘No, Professor Blake! Get away from here!’

‘Accelerate, I said! Someone has to hold this in place, otherwise it will fall over at the first bump. Move this thing, damn it, accelerate. Now or never!’

Selim stepped on the accelerator, the engine roared and the vehicle skidded on the hammada ground, leaping ahead. He switched into second and third gear in just a few metres, accelerating at full capacity while Blake held the gate steady with both hands. In a fraction of a second, the line pulled taut and three tons of inertia at forty miles an hour snapped the chain like a string. The stump flew through the air, cracking like a whip and hit the iron shield with enormous violence. Blake screamed in pain, letting go of the gate, and twisted in his seat in agony. The tailgate fell onto the back of the truck with a crash.

Selim twisted around and waited a moment for the wind to clear away the dust and the smoke from the burning tyres, then said, ‘It’s open, Professor Blake.’

Blake tried to pull himself up, overcoming the atrocious pain in his arms and hands, and saw that Sarah was running down the hill towards the hangar entrance, shouting, ‘Hurry! Hurry! They’re here! Run, Will, run for God’s sake!’

Blake got out and dragged himself as quickly as he could to the hangar. Sarah was already sitting in the Falcon cockpit and was starting up the engines.

‘My wrists are fractured!’

He yelled to be heard over the roar of the jet engines and showed her his bloodied arms. Sarah understood and, abandoning the controls, opened the door and dragged him up, as he clenched his teeth to stop from screaming. Blake managed to get into the seat and Sarah was already back in the pilot’s place. She grabbed the control column and opened the throttle, taking off down the runway.

‘Stop!’ shouted Blake. ‘Stop, Sarah! We can’t leave Selim behind! Olsen’s briefcase, the papyrus! I left them with Selim.’

‘You are crazy,’ shouted back Sarah. ‘There’s no more time!’

But as the plane started to roll down the runway, he saw the Unimog approaching the plane at full speed. Selim had the briefcase in his hand! In the distance, a tank appeared from behind a dune, spraying the area with machine-gun fire.

‘Open up!’ shouted Blake. ‘Open the door or I’ll kill you!’

Sarah obeyed, shocked by his threat, and the cockpit was invaded by a gust of wind. Sarah started in pain, but bit her lip and continued to grip the plane’s controls. Blake leaned forward until he nearly fell and Selim, leaving the driver’s seat and standing on the running board for a second, threw him the briefcase.

Blake caught it more with his forearms than with his hands, and fell backwards onto the floor. He forced himself up again and held his arms out towards Selim. ‘Grab on to my forearms! Hurry!’

The tank was now at the top of the dune and was aiming a machine gun in the direction of the runway.

‘There’s no time,’ shouted Selim as he turned towards the approaching tank. ‘Close the door now. Go!’

‘No, Selim,’ Blake shouted back. ‘No!’

At that moment, the rattle of machine-gun fire sounded again, and Blake could see flames sparking off the tank’s armour. Selim was shooting back, with a machine gun perched on the hood of the Unimog. The tank, heedless of the attack, advanced towards the runway to block the Falcon’s take-off but Selim veered so sharply to the left that his vehicle nearly tipped over and raced at top speed towards the tank, which was forced to wheel round on its tracks to confront him.

As the Falcon was lifting its wheels off the ground, Blake and Sarah heard a powerful explosion and saw a globe of flame and smoke rising from the spot where the Unimog had collided with the tank.

Sarah pushed the jet engines to the max, flying as close as possible to the ground to avoid radar controls. She flew over an inferno of flames and smoke, of vehicles devoured by fire, of the carbonized remains of weaponry and human beings. She passed through a swarm of anti-aircraft shells and multicoloured tracers, without thinking of anything, without hearing anything, gritting her teeth and looking straight ahead until the vast peaceful blue expanse of the sea opened before her.

It was only then that she released a long sigh and turned to look at her companion. And Blake looked back at her, with tears in his eyes.

A
FTER CROSSING
the entire city, which was in a state of blackout due to the strict curfew, Gad Avner finally reached the square in front of the Wailing Wall and headed towards the arch of the Antonian Fortress. The square was dark and deserted, but the sky was illuminated by flashes to the north, south and east: the front lines were getting closer and closer to the walls of Jerusalem.

The army was beginning to run low on munitions and fuel, while the enemy enjoyed abundant supplies, with more pouring in from every direction. Yehudai had decided to activate the launch procedure for the Beersheba nuclear warheads before General Taksoun’s missiles could get within range of Israel’s nuclear defences. And this scenario was very likely to become a reality within the next twenty-four hours, unless the army’s present counteroffensive could turn the tide of battle.

Avner spotted Ferrario, who had been waiting for him. They walked past the two guards together, advancing inside the tunnel up to the place where he had seen the half-buried steps in the southern wall of the cave the last time he was there. Allon suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if he had materialized from the wall.

‘Are there any new developments?’ Avner asked.

‘We’ve excavated these stairs,’ said Allon. ‘They lead to an underground chamber that extends under the Al Aqsa Mosque all the way to the atrium of the Mosque of Omar. It may have been the crypt of the Temple or maybe an old cistern.’

Avner felt a shiver run up his spine. ‘Have you spoken to anyone about this?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because if anyone finds out that you can get under the Al-Aqsa Mosque from here, we’ll have to contend with our own fundamentalist elements. They’d like nothing better than to be able to eliminate all the competition from the area around the Temple.’

‘We have taken all the usual precautions,’ answered Allon, ‘but there’s always the chance of some information leaking out.’

Avner changed the subject. ‘What did you find in the crypt?’

‘Not much yet, but it is a fairly large area. All we did was make a brief preliminary survey. We felt it was more important to continue with the tunnel.’

‘Is it over this way?’ asked Avner, pointing to the opening that led into the mountain.

‘Just follow me,’ said Allon. ‘This tunnel is incredible. We’ve already explored about half a mile of its length.’

Allon lit a flare, which bathed a long stretch of the tunnel in brilliant light, and set off at an easy pace so his companions would have no trouble keeping up. The walls were rough but regular and you could actually count the grooves left by the ancient picks.

‘I have the impression that work on this tunnel was done in separate stages during different historical periods. The central part is a mine shaft that was probably dug out by the Babylonians during the first siege in an attempt to collapse the city walls. Later on, the initial section we are presently walking through was connected to it, probably as part of a countermining operation on the part of the besieged city dwellers.

‘The final section was probably excavated later to open up a secret escape route, leading out beyond the enemy lines in case of a siege. That graffiti we saw at the start probably indicated a section that led out to the Kidron Valley.

‘At any rate, as far as we can tell, this route was known only to the Temple priests. We know that in 586 bc, King Zedekiah had a breach made in the wall by the pool of Siloah so he could escape with his family and the royal guards, so he must not have been aware of this passageway. But the sacred vessels of the Temple were almost certainly carried to safety through this tunnel.’

‘Listen,’ said Avner, almost reluctantly, ‘is it also possible that the Ark of the Covenant was carried through this passage?’

Allon smiled. ‘My dear friend, I’m afraid the Ark has been no more than a legend for many, many centuries. But I can’t exclude anything. If you want to know what I think, though,’ he continued, ‘I hope it never turns up, assuming that it does exist. Can you imagine what an explosion of fanaticism something like that would stir up?’

‘I know,’ sighed Avner, ‘but a miracle is exactly what we need right now

Allon didn’t respond; he just continued walking, bending down when he came to a low place in the ceiling. After about half an hour, they stopped at a spot that had recently been widened by the archaeologists and led up to what appeared to be the base of a ramp.

‘Just where are we, exactly?’ asked Avner.

Allon took a map out of his inside jacket pocket and pointed to a spot in the direction of Bethlehem. ‘Right here.’

Avner took out a military goniometric relief map. It too showed a spot that had been marked with a little circle.

‘The two points are only about 300 metres apart, at the most,’ commented Ferrario.

‘That’s right,’ said Avner.

‘What are you guys talking about?’ asked Allon.

‘Look,’ said Avner, raising his eyes to the roof of the tunnel. ‘How far is it from here to the surface?’

‘Not very. I’d say three or maybe five metres at the most. That’s almost certainly the ramp that leads to the surface,’ he explained, pointing to the base of the wall. Then he added, ‘Here,

on this enlarged detail we have marked the place where the ramp probably ends. It should be directly under the floor of one of the houses in this neighbourhood.’

Avner, pretending to take notes on a pad, passed a slip of paper to Ferrario. It said, ‘Get a commando squad ready for action immediately. In plain clothes. They mustn’t be noticed by anyone. Have them ready to go into action in the next couple of hours.’

Ferrario nodded his head in affirmation, saying, ‘If you have no further need of me, Mr Cohen, I have some urgent business to take care of. I’ll see you later.’ He turned around and retraced his steps towards the mouth of the tunnel.

Avner continued behind Allon. ‘I have another question,’ he said.

‘Fire away.’

‘Where was Nebuchadnezzar’s camp during the siege of 586?’

‘Well, there are two schools of thought regarding that particular point,’ the archaeologist began, assuming a rather annoyingly pedantic tone.

‘What’s your opinion, Allon?’

‘More or less, right here,’ he said, indicating a point on the map.

‘Just as I thought,’ exclaimed Avner, almost shouting. ‘What a God-damned megalomaniac!’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean you. I was just thinking about someone I know.’

The place Allon had pointed to happened to be exceedingly near the spot on the military relief map that they had looked at a few moments before. It marked the location of the suspicious radio signal that had been discovered by Ferrario and his men.

‘Look, Professor,’ Avner began again, ‘I have to ask an enormous favour of you, even though I realize how tired you must be. I’ll send you more men to work under your supervision. I need you to clear this ramp by tomorrow evening. I can’t tell you why, because I too am acting on orders from my superiors, but at times like this we have to explore all our options.’

‘I understand perfectly,’ said Allon. ‘I’ll do what is humanly possible.’

Avner came back out of the tunnel and went back to headquarters, where General Yehudai was keeping track of all new developments in the field in real time on his three-dimensional model. The American satellite had just located a suspicious installation about 150 miles east of the River Jordan.

‘What could it be?’ asked Avner.

‘It looks like a radio transmitter to me and the source we have located between here and Bethlehem could be a relay station.’

‘Well, what’s the sense of all that?’

‘These guys don’t have any satellite access, so they have to rely on ground-based relay stations. We noticed it during the advance of the sandstorm. These two points form a perfect equilateral triangle with our nuclear base at Beersheba. They are probably getting ready to attack it.’

‘Destroy the transmitter on the other side of the Jordan. It could be a missile launching pad, as well.’

‘We did destroy it. But it’s reappeared. It’s probably a mobile unit that can slip back into an underground bunker. And the radio source near Bethlehem is probably capable of directing a missile attack on the capital.’