Contract With God (37 page)

‘I know. Perhaps tonight we’ll see water springing from a rock and all that biblical stuff. Anyway, thank you.’

Slowly, making sure she didn’t spill the coffee because she knew she wasn’t the most coordinated person in the world, even though she would never admit it out loud, she headed for the infirmary. Nuri waved to her from the entrance to the mess tent, still smiling.

And then it happened.

Andrea felt as if a giant hand were lifting her up from the ground and throwing her six and a half feet into the air before flinging her back down. She felt a sharp pain in her left arm and a terrible burning on her chest and her back. She turned just in time to see thousands of small pieces of burning cloth falling from the sky. A column of black smoke was all that was left of what, two seconds ago, had been the mess tent. Up high the smoke seemed to mix with another much blacker smoke. Andrea couldn’t work out where it was coming from. Carefully, she touched her chest and realised that her shirt was covered in a hot sticky liquid.

Doc came running over.

‘Are you all right? Oh God, are you OK, darling?’

Andrea was aware that Harel was shouting even though she sounded far away due to the whistling in Andrea’s ears. She felt the doctor checking her neck and arms.

‘My chest.’

‘You’re OK. It’s only coffee.’

Andrea stood up carefully and saw that she had spilled the coffee over herself. Her right hand was still clutching the tray, while her left arm had banged against a rock. She moved her fingers, afraid that she had suffered more injuries. Luckily nothing was broken but her whole left side felt as if it were paralyzed.

While a few members of the expedition tried to put out the fire using buckets of sand, Harel concentrated on taking care of Andrea’s wounds. The reporter had cuts and scratches to the left side of her body. Her hair and the skin on her back had been slightly burned and there was a constant buzzing in her ears.

‘The buzzing will disappear in three to four hours,’ Harel said as she put her stethoscope back into her trouser pocket.

‘I’m sorry . . .’ Andrea said, almost shouting without realising it. She was crying.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’

‘He . . . Nuri . . . brought the coffee out to me. If I had gone inside to get it, I’d be dead right now. I could’ve asked him to come out and smoke a cigarette with me. I could’ve saved his life in return.’

Harel pointed to the surroundings. Both the mess tent and a fuel truck had been blown up - two separate explosions at the same time. Four people had been turned to nothing but ash.

‘The only one who should feel anything is the son of a bitch who did this.’

‘Don’t worry about it, lady, we have him,’ Torres said.

He and Jackson were dragging a person in handcuffs by the feet. They deposited him in the middle of the area by the tents while the other expedition members looked on in shock, unable to believe what they were seeing.

AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN

 

 

Fowler put his hand up to his forehead. It was bleeding. The explosion from the truck had thrown him to the ground and he had hit his head against something. He had tried to get up and head back towards the camp with the satellite phone still in his hand. In the middle of his hazy vision and the thick cloud of smoke, he saw two soldiers approaching with their guns aimed at him.

‘It was you, you son of a bitch!’

‘Look, he still has the phone in his hand.’

‘That’s what you used to set off the explosions, wasn’t it, you bastard?’

The butt of a rifle hit his head. He fell to the ground but didn’t feel the kicks or the other blows to his body. He had lost consciousness long before that.

 

‘This is ridiculous,’ Russell screamed, joining the group that had crowded around Father Fowler: Dekker, Torres, Jackson and Alryk Gottlieb on the soldiers’ side; Eichberg, Hanley and Pappas from what was left of the civilians.

With Harel’s help, Andrea was trying to stand up and go over to the group of threatening faces that were black with soot.

‘It’s not ridiculous, sir,’ said Dekker, throwing down Fowler’s satellite phone. ‘He was carrying this when we found him near the fuel truck. Thanks to the scanner, we know he made a brief phone call this morning, so we were already suspicious of him. Instead of going to breakfast, we took our positions and watched him. Luckily.’

‘It’s only—’ Andrea began, but Harel yanked her arm.

‘Quiet. That’s not going to help him,’ she whispered.

Exactly. What was I going to say, that it’s the secret phone he uses to communicate with the CIA? That’s not the best way of defending his innocence, idiot
.

‘It’s a telephone. Certainly something that’s not allowed on this expedition, but it’s not enough to accuse this man of causing the explosions, ’ Russell said.

‘Maybe not just the phone, sir. But look what we found in his briefcase. ’

Jackson tossed the ruined briefcase in front of them. It had been emptied and the bottom cover ripped off. Glued to the base was a secret compartment containing small bars that looked like marzipan.

‘It’s C4, Mr Russell,’ Dekker went on.

The information made them all hold their breath. Then Alryk pulled out his pistol.

‘This pig killed my brother. Let me put a bullet through his fucking skull,’ he screamed, out of his mind with rage.

‘I’ve heard enough,’ said a soft but steady voice.

The circle opened and Raymond Kayn approached the unconscious body of the priest. He leaned over him, one figure in black and the other in white.

‘I can understand what made this man do what he did. But this mission has been delayed for too long, and it cannot be delayed any more. Pappas, please get back to work and knock down the wall.’

‘Mr Kayn, I can’t do that without knowing what’s going on here,’ Pappas answered.

Brian Hanley and Tommy Eichberg folded their arms and went and stood next to Pappas. Kayn didn’t even look at them twice.

‘Mr Dekker?’

‘Sir?’ said the large South African.

‘Please, exercise your authority. The time for niceties is over.’

‘Jackson,’ said Dekker, signalling.

The soldier lifted her M4 and aimed it at the three rebels.

‘You’ve got to be joking,’ complained Eichberg, whose large red nose was a couple of inches from the muzzle of Jackson’s automatic.

‘It’s no joke, honey. Start walking or I’ll shoot you a new asshole.’ Jackson cocked her weapon with an ominous metallic click.

Ignoring the others, Kayn walked over to Harel and Andrea.

‘As for you young ladies, it has been a pleasure to be able to rely on your services. Mr Dekker will guarantee your return to the
Behemoth
.’

‘What are you saying?’ howled Andrea, who despite her difficulty in hearing had caught some of what Kayn had said. ‘Damned son of a bitch! They’re going to extract the Ark in a few hours time. Let me stay until tomorrow. You owe me.’

‘Are you saying that the fisherman owes the worm? Take them away. Oh, and make sure they leave only with what they’re wearing. Have the reporter hand over the disk containing her photos.’

Dekker pulled Alryk aside and spoke to him quietly.

‘You take them.’

‘Bullshit. I want to stay here and deal with the priest. He killed my brother,’ said the German, his eyes bloodshot.

‘He’ll still be alive when you get back. Now do as you’re told. Torres will keep him nice and warm for you.’

‘Fuck, Colonel. It takes at least three hours to go from here to Aqaba and back, even if we’re driving at top speed in the Humvee. If Torres gets his hands on the priest, there’ll be nothing left of him by the time I get back.’

‘Believe me, Gottlieb. You’ll be back in an hour.’

‘What are you saying, sir?’

Dekker looked at him seriously, annoyed by his subordinate’s slowness. He hated having to spell things out.

‘Sarsaparilla, Gottlieb. And make it quick.’

AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN

 

 

Sitting in the back of the H3, Andrea half closed her eyes in a vain attempt to deal with the dust that was pouring in through the windows. The explosion of the fuel tanker had blown out the vehicle’s windows and cracked the windscreen, and even though Alryk had repaired some of the holes with duct tape and a few shirts, he had worked so quickly that there were still places where the sand blew in. Harel complained, but the soldier didn’t reply. He was holding the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles white and his mouth tense. He had raced over the large dune at the entrance to the canyon in only three minutes and was now stepping on the accelerator as if his life depended on it.

‘It won’t be the most comfortable trip in the world, but at least we’re going home,’ Doc said, putting her hand on Andrea’s thigh. Andrea grasped her hand firmly.

‘Why did he do it, Doc? Why did he have explosives in his briefcase? Tell me they planted them on him,’ said the young reporter, almost pleading.

The doctor leaned closer, so that Alryk couldn’t hear her, although she doubted he could hear anything with the noise of the engine and the wind flapping the temporary covers on the windows.

‘I don’t know, Andrea, but the explosives were his.’

‘How do you know?’ asked Andrea, her eyes suddenly serious.

‘Because he told me. After you heard the soldiers talking when you were under their tent, he came to me for help with a crazy plan to blow up the water supply.’

‘Doc, what are you saying? You knew about that?’

‘He came here because of you. He saved your life once before, and according to the code of honour his kind live by, he believes he must assist you any time you need help. In any case, for reasons I don’t quite understand, it was his boss who got you involved in the first place. He wanted to make sure Fowler was on the expedition.’

‘Is that why Kayn mentioned the thing about the worm?’

‘Yes. For Kayn and his people you were just a way of controlling Fowler. Everything’s been a lie from the very start.’

‘And what will happen to him now?’

‘Forget about him. They’ll interrogate him and then . . . he’ll disappear. And before you say anything, don’t even think about going back there.’

The reality of the situation left the reporter stunned.

‘Why, Doc?’ Andrea pulled away from her in disgust. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, after all we’ve been through? You swore you’d never lie to me again. You swore while we were making love. I don’t know how I could have been so stupid . . .’

‘I say a lot of things.’ A tear slid down Harel’s cheek, but when she continued her voice was steely. ‘His mission is different from mine. For me, this was just another of the silly expeditions that take place from time to time. But Fowler knew it could be the real thing. And if it was, he knew he had to do something about it.’

‘And what was that? Blow us all up?’

‘I don’t know who set off the explosion this morning, but believe me, it wasn’t Anthony Fowler.’

‘But you didn’t say anything.’

‘I couldn’t say anything without implicating myself,’ Harel said looking away. ‘I knew they would get us out of there . . . I . . . wanted to be with you. Away from the excavation. Away from my life, I suppose.’

‘What about Forrester? He was your patient and you left him there.’

‘He died this morning, Andrea. Just before the explosion, as a matter of fact. He’s been ill for years, you know that.’

Andrea shook her head.

‘I can’t believe it. So many deaths, so much violence, and all for a ridiculous museum piece.’

‘Fowler didn’t explain it to you? There’s much more at stake here . . .’ Harel stopped talking as the Humvee slowed down.

‘This isn’t right,’ she said, looking out through the cracks in the window. ‘There’s nothing here.’

The vehicle came to a rough stop.

‘Hey, Alryk, what are you doing?’ Andrea said. Why are we stopping?’

The big German didn’t say anything. Very slowly, he took the keys out of the ignition, pulled up the handbrake, and got out of the Hummer, slamming the door.

‘Shit. They wouldn’t dare,’ Harel said.

Andrea saw the fear in the doctor’s eyes. She could hear Alryk’s footsteps in the sand. He was coming around to Harel’s side.

‘What’s going on, Doc?’

The door opened.

‘Get out,’ Alryk said coldly, his face impassive.

‘You can’t do this,’ Harel said, not moving an inch. ‘Your commander doesn’t want to make an enemy of Mossad. We’re very bad enemies to have.’

‘Orders are orders. Get out.’

‘Not her. At least let her go, please.’

The German brought his hand to his belt and pulled his automatic pistol from the holster.

‘For the last time. Get out of the vehicle.’

Harel looked at Andrea, resigned to her fate. She shrugged and with both hands grabbed hold of the passenger handle above the side window to exit the vehicle. But suddenly she tensed her arm muscles and, still gripping the handle, swung her feet out, hitting Alryk in the chest with her heavy boots. The German let go of the pistol, which fell to the ground. Harel lunged head first at the soldier, knocking him down. The doctor leapt up immediately and kicked the German in the face, splitting his eyebrow and damaging his eye. Doc lifted her foot over his face, ready to finish the job but the soldier came to, grabbed her foot with his huge hand and spun her violently to the left. There was a loud sound of breaking bone as Doc fell.