The Babel Codex (9 page)

Chapter Nineteen

The glass map was cleverer than Annja had at first thought. It was actually three maps in one, all of them intertwined to the point it took real effort to sort through them. She made sketches of them in her journal to keep from getting confused.

Not more than an hour from where she’d had her epiphany, she recognized the section of the mountain range replicated in glass. She held the glass map up to match against the horizon and, when she got onto the proper approach, she spotted the sweeping wings of the falcon that had been written about in the inscription on the model tower.

She had to look at the mountainside just right to see the falcon, and she knew that if she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed it completely. The falcon actually stood out against three different jutting edges that had to be seen from the side to be seen at all. Erosion and time had softened the edges, but it was there.

However, sometime in the past, the falcon had been decapitated. Only a jagged stump remained. The heavy artillery scars on the mountainside were testament that the head had probably been taken off during artillery practice. There was no other reason for the range to have been shot up so many times.

She drove the Jeep up into the mountains until the incline became too dangerous to navigate even with four-wheel drive. Then she hid the Jeep behind a stand of juniper trees, got out, slung her backpack and filled an extra pack with water and energy bars. She started up into the foothills as the sun sank in the west, turning the horizon red and ochre.

Three hundred feet up, where the falcon’s right wingtip faded into the mountainside, a miniature
cuneiform symbol
for God, which looked like a standing golf tee cross by two other golf tees, stood out on the mountainside. The cuneiform was ancient by the time the Tower of Babel was believed to have been built, but Annja thought the mapmaker had wanted something written that most of his peers couldn’t translate.

That meant he was a scholar, which made her even more hopeful.

Annja wasn’t sure if the marking meant the mapmaker thought God was in this holy place. She just hoped she found a cave that corresponded with the location.

Unfortunately, even locating the wingtip left her with an immense area to explore.

Look with the eye of the falcon.

The line resonated in Annja’s mind. She turned and climbed thirty feet to the ridgeline where the head was missing. Standing there, she looked back down at the right wingtip.

Find the seven steps to the resting place that has been made for that which has been hidden.

At first, Annja missed the “steps.” They were ledges that jutted out from under the wingtip and led farther to the right. Four of them had been blasted away, but she made out the scars where the natural formations had been.

Just as she was about to descend, she saw dust from a Land Rover streaking across the hilly terrain toward her location. Annja dropped down into a prone position, hoping the Jeep was safely hidden.

The Land Rover turned toward her position and rolled up to a dusty stop beside her Jeep. So much for trying to hide it. After a moment, the driver got out and stood there in a khaki shirt and hiking shorts, ankle-high walking shoes and a pith helmet. Dark, round-lensed sunglasses covered his eyes as he stared up the mountainside. He scowled through his white whiskers.

“Have you found it?”

Chapter Twenty

Annja walked down the mountainside, remembering the
first time she’d met the old man in France. She’d been searching out the secret
of the Beast of Gévaudan in the Margeride Mountains. Instead, she’d found Roux
and the last piece of Joan’s sword.

The old former soldier had a way of turning up in the strangest
places at the most unexpected moments.

“What are you doing here?” Annja called as she descended.

“You call that a greeting?”

“I think it tops ‘Have you found it?’”

“You’re too sensitive. If I didn’t care how you were faring,
would I be here?”

“I don’t know.” Annja reached the first ledge at the end of the
wingtip and stood there. “Would you?”

“For your information, I left in the middle of a simply amazing
run of Texas Hold ’em in Dubai to be here. I was having an absolutely wonderful
time, and had captured the attentions of a pair of twins. They were quite
enamored of me.”

“Ewww.” Hundreds of years old—Roux had already been a seasoned
soldier when he was tasked with protecting Joan of Arc—he had no problem
attracting the attentions of a woman. Garin was the same. Annja thought maybe
their appeal had something to do with living for hundreds of years. Living that
long, especially through the times they’d survived—what little she knew of
them—a guy accumulated a lot of confidence and know-how.

“If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.”

“You should have stayed there.”

“If I had, you’d be dead very shortly.”

Annja folded her arms. She had come to love the old man like a
daughter would, but he could be the biggest, most enigmatic pain she could ever
imagine. The same, she gathered, as a lot of father figures. “I would be
dead?”

“Yes. Garin is en route, and then there is some man named
Baller.”

“Bhalla.”

Roux considered that and nodded. “African name and the Tower of
Babel. Makes a lot more sense.”

“I left Garin in Damascus, in the hands of the Syrian military,
and I don’t know if Bhalla survived the last encounter we had. He might be
buried in a cave.”

“Garin got out of jail and Bhalla is still alive.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I keep tabs on Garin when I can, and I knew he was
chasing you, which interested me because it’s never good with the two of you. I
didn’t think I would need to get involved, but as it turns out, this is about
the Tower of Babel. I couldn’t stay away. As for Bhalla, my information
specialist tells me that he and a group of his people are headed this way, as
well.”

“How?”

“Evidently they’re following Garin, who is following you.
Garin’s so wrapped up in this Tower of Babel chase he’s forgetting one of the
first things I taught him about survival—always watch to see who follows
you.”

“You could have called me to let me know.”

“I could have. You would have stayed out here, though.”

“What are you doing here?”

Roux walked to the back of the Land Rover, opened it and took
out a large duffel bag. He also took out a staff for walking. “I thought it was
entirely possible that you found some bauble from Babel.”

“I will.”

“And I thought that if you did, that could be a dangerous
thing. The Tower of Babel was filled with raw power, it is said. God’s wrath is
a potent thing, and has a tendency to hang around. Like as not, if you don’t
know how to handle whatever you find, it will kill you instead of Garin or
Bhalla.”

“O ye of little faith.”

Roux harrumphed. “You could be more appreciative of the efforts
I’ve gone to.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

He peered up at her. “You could at least help an old man ease
his burden.”

“You passed
old
a long time ago.
And I’ve never seen a day when you weren’t able to handle yourself.” Except for
when he’d been wounded on occasional adventures and hospitalized. Those memories
still plagued Annja from time to time.

Roux muttered something under his breath and strode up the
mountain effortlessly despite the pack he carried and the staff that was
supposed to support him. In just a couple minutes more, he joined her on the
ledge.

“What have you found?”

* * ** * *

Annja quickly related the events that had landed her in
possession of the brick, keeping the information concise because Roux didn’t
always have a long attention span. While she finished her version of the tale,
she and Roux made it over to the seventh ledge and began searching the
surface.

“Do you know what we’re looking for?” he asked.

“No.”

Roux grunted. “It would help if you did.”

Annja didn’t comment. The sun was going down quickly now and
the sky was starting to darken. She was also distracted keeping watch for Garin
and Bhalla. Still, she worked at the surface with a stiff-bristled brush, hoping
to uncover some kind of sign.

After a few more minutes, Roux straightened and massaged his
back. “We’re wasting our time. It’ll be better to get a good night’s sleep and
try again in the morning.” He picked up the duffel. “Or maybe rethink that
translation you’re working with.”

Annja didn’t want to leave. She was certain what she was
looking for was
here
, hidden in plain sight. Only
she’d looked everywhere....

Then she realized she hadn’t looked everywhere. Abandoning the
ledge, she scrambled down, knowing then where the entrance trigger would be
hidden and hopefully protected.

Find the entrance hidden from God’s
wrath
,
in the shadow of His mercy.

Below the ledge now, she took out her mini-Maglite and switched
it on. She wiped at the surface with her brush, and stared till her eyes burned.
The image of a fish, the early sign of the Christians, stood out against the
stone.

Around the symbol of the fish, she saw lines too straight and
clean to be natural.

Annja put the flashlight aside and pressed on the symbol. At
first, nothing happened, giving her a strong sense of déjà vu. Then, slowly, it
recessed and she heard a hollow click from within. She stepped back as a section
of the mountainside pulled inside, just as it had at the mouth of the tunnel to
the hidden cave, and left an open space the size and dimensions of a child’s
coffin. A chill coursed down Annja’s spine at the unintended comparison and she
shivered.

“You found it,” Roux said. Then he scowled back down the
mountain. “And it appears your opponents have found us.”

Annja turned and stared, watching as a small convoy of trucks
braked to a halt at the foot of the mountain. She recognized Bhalla as he got
out. If she had to be found right now, she wished it would have been by Garin.
At least with Garin they would have had something of a chance.

Bhalla shouted orders to his men and pointed at her.

“Come on. You’re not going to do any good standing around out
here.” Roux took her by the hand and pulled her into the mountain.

Chapter Twenty-One

Bhalla charged uphill, cursing his ill luck. How many times had he been in this very valley? How many times had he stared at these mountains?

And the Babel treasure had been
here
. After he’d lost Annja in Damascus, he’d felt certain she would come here. If she hadn’t, he would have lost her. But he had gotten close in his estimations of where the location was. The man who had recovered the brick had sent him part of the inscription, but he hadn’t sent it all. The man’s lack of knowledge about the brick had almost given him away. If he’d given too much information, Bhalla would not have needed the brick.

He ran with his men, a big pistol in his fist. “When we find the woman this time,” he ordered over the radio tucked into his ear, “kill her immediately. Kill the old man, too. Take no chances.”

Bhalla still didn’t know where Annja Creed had gotten the sword she’d nearly killed him with.

* * *

The tunnel ran for thirty feet and opened into a large chamber with three tunnels at the other end. Annja crossed to the three openings and stared at the symbols carved over them.

“Which way?” Roux stopped, dropped the duffel bag and reached inside it.

“Three symbols. A flaming sword, a calf and a shadow on a rock. The translation says to choose God’s mercy.” Annja stared at the symbols, trying to make sense of them.

On one knee now, Roux brought out a claymore mine and set it at an angle that would cover the entrance. “An archangel with a flaming sword drove Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. That’s not the one you want.”

“A fatted calf could be a sacrifice. In the Old Testament, when the tower was built, sacrifices were often offered to God.”

“The man who hid this thing was doing what he believed was God’s will.” Roux shrugged. “That could be a connection to God’s mercy.”

“God’s mercy wasn’t something that was talked about a lot in the Old Testament. In fact, the only time I remember it was the compassion He showed to Moses.” Annja looked at the third symbol, the shadow on the rock. “Moses was in the wilderness and the Israelites had made God angry. He talked to God and asked for mercy.”

“You might want to hurry this along. Those people aren’t waiting.”

Outside, Annja heard the slap of boots closing in.

“Moses also asked God to show him His divine nature. So God hid Moses
inside
a boulder so he would be safe.” Annja pointed to the third tunnel. “This has to be the way.”

Roux had belted on a pistol, and taken two machine pistols from the duffel. He kept one and tossed the other to Annja, who caught it.

“You know how to use that, right?”

Annja worked the action, making sure a round was chambered. “I do.”

Roux tossed her four spare magazines and she stored those in the thigh pockets of her cargo pants. He set another claymore mine in the middle tunnel and activated it once he was safely back out of the way.

Annja raced down the third tunnel and into the darkness with Roux at her heels. She scanned the walls, looking for markings or signs of travel.

Something ahead of her
clicked
, and she heard the
whoosh
of a ponderous weight in motion
.

* * *

Bhalla followed his men into the tunnel. He was the fourth man in line, so when the explosive detonated ahead of him and blasted shrapnel into his men, he was protected. Still, the concussive force knocked him down and deafened him.

Stunned, he lay there for a moment, covered in the blood of his men, blind in one eye from it. Then he forced himself to his feet, his senses whirling from the blast, and waved the next man in line forward. The first two men were dead, torn to pieces. The third man had survived but was missing an ear and three fingers of his left hand.

Bhalla brushed by the wounded man and ordered more men forward to pursue their quarry. Seeing his men moving more slowly and cautiously now, fearful of another mine, Bhalla cursed Annja Creed and the old man.

He entered the chamber, almost slipping in the blood pooling from the dead men. For a moment, he gazed at the three tunnels, not knowing what they meant.

Angry and frantic, he ordered his men into them. They couldn’t hear him, but they understood him well enough. Only an instant after a couple disappeared into the second tunnel under the calf drawing, they vomited back out of the opening, propelled by another explosive. Their bodies thumped to the cave floor.

Bhalla grabbed another and shoved him into the second tunnel. If Annja Creed and the old man had taken time to put an explosive there, then they must have gone that way. Bhalla followed and watched in horror as a huge stone slab sudden dropped and crushed his man to pulp.

In disbelief, Bhalla stared at the stone and knew the way was a dead end. He retreated to the main chamber again. No one had returned from either the first or the third tunnel.

Then a blast came from the third and an arm came flying out to land in a smoking heap.

Taking a deep breath, Bhalla plunged into the first tunnel and stopped short when he saw two of his men writhing on rods that had pierced their flesh. Even though Bhalla couldn’t hear, one still yet lived and cried out for help as blood dribbled down his chin.

Bhalla lifted his pistol and shot him in the head, then turned back to pursue the third tunnel. There was nowhere else his quarry could have gone.

* * *

As the sound of gusting wind closed in on her, Annja wheeled around and flung herself at Roux, wrapping the old man in her arms and taking them to the ground as a giant scythe sliced through her right shirtsleeve. Roux’s flashlight beam caught the immense blade as it disappeared in the upper reaches of the ceiling.

“That was close,” Roux said.

Slowly, Annja crawled off him and stayed almost flat on the ground as she moved forward. “Maybe we should be a little more humble through this section.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” Roux dug out another claymore and set it up behind them. Then when they’d crawled through the arc of the scythe, he placed another one. He shook the duffel, indicating it was empty. “I hope that does enough damage. But we can’t keep crawling through here. They’ll catch us.”

At that moment, the first claymore in the tunnel detonated in a crescendo of noise and flashing light.

Knowing they had to move, Annja pushed herself to her feet, listened for the sound of another trap and felt for the displacement of air. Nothing. Moving more cautiously, but moving as fast as she dared, she went forward.