Authors: Adam Palmer
Driving at night along the Nile Valley was a dangerous business. The main âhighway' was a single lane in which vehicles parked at night with their lights off, and donkey carts with neither lights nor red markings or reflectors to make them visible trundled along invisibly. Added to that, there were also trucks with unsafe loads and long-distance taxis, driven with a brazen disregard not only for the speed limit but even for the laws of physics.
This meant that drivers had to make a hard choice between high speed, to mingle with the flow of local motorized traffic, and low speed to avoid the pitfalls of the stationary vehicles and donkeys. Navigating a middle course between those two perils was difficult.
But Sarit didn't really have a choice.
She had followed Goliath back to Luxor, thinking that he was going to ditch the jeep and either fly back to Cairo or take the overnight train. But instead he proceeded to drive north along the Nile Valley, presumably intending to make it to Cairo by road. This was understandable â the further he took the jeep away from the western valley, the less likely Mansoor and the others were to be found. And this made Sarit more convinced that they were still alive.
Sarit calculated that she had two options â either to press
on and try to catch Goliath, or to turn back to save the people she was supposed to protect. The drive back would take several hours and it was already dark. On the other hand, she had had to stop for petrol and was not sure if she was still in with a chance of catching up with Goliath. He might be driving fast, in excess of the speed limit. Of course she could do the same, but what if she was stopped by the police? The last thing she wanted to do was come to the attention of the authorities.
Finally, she made a decision. She pulled over by the roadside and logged on to the Internet via her mobile phone. Lacking the time for the usual photograph and steganography routine, she put a message on the wall of her social network page that said:
I'm looking for big man.
She just hoped that Dovi or someone at the Mossad would get it and give her a real-time update on his whereabouts.
Right now she didn't have time to wait for an answer. Instead, she restarted the car and drove on, keeping to the main road north. After a while she got a message on her phone that a friend had commented on her wall. She pulled over again, logged on and saw a message that said:
You're only two kilometres away from the man of your dreams. Maybe you'll have to chase him faster, but keep going the way you are and you'll meet him.
She smiled and realized that Mossad were tracking both her and Goliath via the GPS on their mobile phones. The message implied that a slight acceleration would be all that she needed to catch up with him.
Looking at the terrain, she realized that she might find a quiet spot without witnesses where she could deal with Goliath once and for all. Then she remembered that this was a petrol car, not diesel and that meant she could nip this problem in the bud. Instead of restarting the car immediately,
she got out, opened the tank and siphoned off some petrol into the soft drink bottle she had retained from the gas station. Using a rag from the boot of the car, which she soaked in petrol, she created a Molotov cocktail. She got back into the car and shoved it into the door compartment.
Now all she had to do was drive fast, without attracting the attention of the police. She realized that the way others were driving, she might just get away with it.
Ignoring the blood and struggling desperately not to let the key slip from his fingers, Mansoor made another turn of his hand and just about managed to find the insert point of the padlock. But he still had to twist the key with his fingers to rotate it to the right angle to get it in. For a minute he thought it was going to slip from his sweaty grasp, but then he felt something catch and he realized that the key was in.
Now it was just a matter of turning it⦠turning it some more⦠and some moreâ¦
Yes!
The padlock was open. He pulled on the heavy lower part to disengage it, then he turned the bottom away ninety degrees. Finally he removed the whole thing and let it drop to the floor.
âQuick! Let's get him out!' Daniel yelled to Gabrielle. Mansoor was hardly able to speak.
They pushed the door open and Daniel rushed round to the other side to help free Mansoor's hand, gently guiding it through so that the sharp metal didn't tear into the flesh any further.
But it was already clear from the blood pouring out that an artery had been opened. Mansoor sat down and lifted
his arm above the level of his heart while Daniel applied arterial pressure using his belt to stem the flow of blood.
âI still can't get a signal,' said Gabrielle, frantically moving her mobile phone this way and that in the hope of getting it to work. She tried the same with Daniel's phone, and Mansoor's, but she was unable to get a signal.
âWhat are we going to do?' she asked.
âYou'll have to walk. Go that way,' said Mansoor, pointing west towards the Nile Valley. âLeave me here and get help.'
âWe have to take you with us,' said Daniel, brushing off Mansoor's selflessness.
âWe haven't got a stretcher.'
âYou can still walk, can't you?'
âI can still walk, but I'd only slow you down.'
Daniel looked at Gabrielle. She had been panicking before when she thought that they were going to spend their last few days dying of starvation in the unused tomb of an ancient pharaoh, but now that her own life was no longer under threat, her concern turned to her former teacher.
âAre you sure you won't be in any danger here?'
He looked around and pointed this way and that contemptuously. âMy dear girl, do you see any predators around here? Any lions or tigers, perhaps? Or maybe a wild camel?'
It was true that male camels could become violent to the point of killing during the mating season, if anything got between them and the fertile females, but aside from that, there was no danger out here in the desert.
âI'm sorry. I was just concerned.'
She was none too bothered by his irascible response. She knew his character very well after all these years.
âI'll be all right, just as long as you get help. Make sure you tell them my exact location.'
âShould we ask them to use a helicopter?' asked Daniel, suddenly feeling unsure.
âThey'll know what to do!' snapped Mansoor. âJust tell them my circumstances. Now go!'
For a split second, Daniel and Gabrielle hesitated, meeting each other's eyes, as if seeking the other's approval for what might seem like a callous act. Then Daniel took the initiative, nodded and set off, followed a second or two later by Gabrielle.
âWait!' Mansoor cried out.
They froze and turned to see the Egyptian holding out his mobile phone.
âTake my phone. Keep checking it. As soon as you get a signal, call the number I've keyed into it. It's the nearest hospital.'
âWe can do that on our phones,' said Daniel. âJust give us the number.'
âMy phone is better in these conditions. Also the pair of you kept checking your e-mail, like little Western nerds. You're probably low on juice.'
âBut we can't leave you without a phone,' said Gabrielle, her voice weak with guilt.
âA phone doesn't do me any good without a signal.' He held out the mobile to Daniel. âNow, get going! And make it quick.'
And with that, they were off. It was one of those walks that seemed to become less tiring as it continued. After the first couple of hundred yards, they already felt sore, perhaps because of muscle cramps. They had spent several hours immobile in the tomb and when they came out into the open, the night air was cooler than they had expected now the sun had gone in. But as they continued and their muscles warmed up, it became easier.
But it was the psychological exhaustion that made it truly
tiring â the thought of how much depended on them getting help in time. Also Daniel felt worn-out at the thought of how long they would have to walk even to get to the edge of the Nile Valley. It was a five-mile walk, but the terrain was rough and Daniel knew that even at their current brisk pace it would take them at least an hour. It wasn't so much the prospect of an hour's walk that worried him: it was concern for what would happen to Mansoor in the meantime.
How long did he have? How rapidly was he losing blood?
Daniel looked over at Gabrielle and saw from the look on her face that she too was concerned. Without any exchange of words, she seemed to pick up on his suggestion and whipped out her phone. The look in her eyes said it all even before she put it away again. He tried to get a signal with his, but had no more luck, and Mansoor's proved no better, despite his confidence.
They carried on more in desperation than hope, Gabrielle taking the lead.
âI wish I'd followed my nephews' advice and got into shape sooner,' said Daniel, trying to make light of the situation.
âYou're pretty fit,' said Gabrielle.
âNot like you.'
âFlattery, flattery.'
He quickened his pace and lengthened his stride to catch up with her, just in time to catch the smile on her face before it vanished.
âYou know, I always wanted to be like you,' she said.
âWhat? A
man
?'
âHa fuckin' ha. No, I mean when I used to visit Uncle Harrison during the summer⦠when you were working on your dissertation.'
âSo how come you went into Egyptology instead of Semitic languages?'
âThat came later. No, at the time, I wanted to be a magician.'
âA magician?'
âYes. Remember all those tricks you did with cards and coins and all that?'
âOh, yeah. That was something I did at school. It was the only way I could make friends. I didn't know you were interested in that.'
âOh God, yes! I used to spend hours practising⦠hoping I could be as good as you.'
âAnd were you?'
âDid I ever show you my magic skills?'
âNot as far as I recall.'
âThen there's your answer. Rest assured, Daniel, if I'd thought I could have impressed you in those days, I would have done.'
He remembered that she had had a bit of a crush on him in those days. She was fifteen when he first started work on his PhD. He had got into University College London's Department of Hebrew and Jewish Studies at the age of sixteen and graduated with a First in Language and Culture. At twenty he had gone on to do a direct doctorate at Cambridge under Harrison Carmichael. Gabrielle lived in Vienna, but spent her summers in Cambridge with her uncle, while her widowed mother travelled.
Daniel was well aware at the time that Gabrielle had a crush on him. He remembered all too well the constant flirting, the dressing up to look older, the ostentatious way she used to swish past him in a short skirt, desperately trying to catch his attention. He had to admit to himself that at times his eye did rove and his imagination was aroused. But she was a girl on the cusp of womanhood and he was an adult. To take it beyond the occasional
acknowledgement of her flirting would have been as improper as it was illegal.
So he had played it cool and somewhere along the line she had grown out of him.
Half an hour into the walk, they tried the mobile phones again. This time, Gabrielle's face lit up, so that even before she made eye contact with Daniel, he knew that the news was good.
She spoke urgently into the phone and when she was finished, she turned to Daniel with a beaming smile on her face.
âThey're on their way.'
âI heard. Did they say which hospital they're taking him to?'
âLuxor. But only because it's nearer.'
âOkay, well, let's keep going till we make it to the valley, then see if we can get some sort of transport.'
Gabrielle nodded.
In the quarter of an hour that followed, they heard a helicopter in the distance and glanced at each other for encouragement. Privately, Daniel still had concerns. Would they arrive on time? Was Mansoor still alive?
âWhat?' asked Gabrielle, seeing the look on his face.
âNothing.' He had no wish to worry her too, and no reason to share his fears with her either.
After a time, the land beneath their feet turned from sand and rock to lush green grass, and they knew that they had reached the edge of the Nile Valley. Gabrielle took out Mansoor's mobile phone and played with the buttons, looking at the display. Daniel wasn't sure what she was doing, but he decided not to ask until she had finished. In the meantime, he looked around and kept his eyes peeled for a taxi.
A few went past, but they already had fares. Meanwhile,
Gabrielle was using Mansoor's phone to make a call, but Daniel was still too preoccupied with his concerns for Mansoor to ask who she was calling. He hoped that they hadn't got lost or failed to find Mansoor. Gabrielle had told them the exact location, and he would have had no reason to leave the area. In any case, how far could he have gone?
And then another thought struck Daniel â a frightening thought. Someone had tried to kill them before, by locking them in.
What if the killer was still around? What if he was following them?
Daniel quickly dismissed this thought as nonsense. When they got out of the tomb, their jeep had been missing. Whoever had done it would have no reason to come back. But why had they locked them in to begin with? Who was the intended target? Was it Mansoor? Gabrielle? Daniel himself? All three?
It makes no sense!
And there was one more thing that didn't make sense. Although Gabrielle was holding the phone to her ear, she wasn't speaking. She was
listening
⦠but she wasn't saying a word. And the look on her face concerned Daniel. It was a look of fear.
He was about to ask her what the problem was when a police van appeared in the distance heading towards them on the main road. Daniel started waving his arms in a desperate attempt to flag it down. The police van screeched to a halt and four police officers leapt out. But what happened next took him by surprise: they drew their guns.
Not sure of what was happening, Daniel opted for the common-sense approach and put his hands up.
âBritish,' he shouted, as if that word conferred some sort
of magical protection. But then something happened that Daniel couldn't believe.
The police started firing!
Instinctively, Daniel hit the ground. Gabrielle did likewise, except that she took half a second longer to react.