The Second Messiah (41 page)

A noise sounded behind them, of stones falling away. They turned and saw the Arab appear out of the shadows, his pistol aimed at them. “Move and I kill you both.”

NIDAL STEPPED INTO
the room. Behind him the Serb appeared, armed with a machine pistol. Nidal said in perfect English, “Place the lamp on the ground and keep your hands away from your body.”

Jack put down the metal lamp and it made a
clink
as it hit stone. He and Yasmin spread their arms.

Nidal’s eyes darted restlessly. “You’ve led us both in a tiring dance, Mr. Cane. But no matter where you ran we would have found you.”

His voice was laced with arrogance and he snapped his fingers. The Serb patted Jack and Yasmin for weapons, then stepped back.

Jack said to Nidal, “Who are you? How do you know me?”

Nidal glanced up at the marbled walls. “You’ll find out soon enough. What are you both doing down here?”

“Trying to escape from you and the others following us.”

Nidal aimed his pistol at Yasmin. “You. Tell me who are the others.”

“Israelis. One of them is Inspector Lela Raul, of the Jerusalem police.”

Nidal considered, and then without warning he turned and struck Jack a stinging blow across the face with the barrel of his pistol. Jack staggered back, clapping a hand to his jaw.

Nidal fixed him with a steely look. “Take that as a warning, Mr. Cane. You are not here just to escape, are you? I think you had a purpose when you dug a hole through that rubble back there. What did you hope to find?”

Jack wiped his mouth, stained wet with blood. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

“I’ll decide that.” Nidal put the tip of the pistol to Yasmin’s temple.
“If I have to repeat the question you’ll be scraping her brains off the walls.”

“A clue led us here.”

Nidal cautiously lowered his Beretta. Raising his lamp, he edged closer to the damaged marble. He studied the chiseled words with interest, touching them with his fingertips. “You mean here, to these inscriptions?”

“Yes.”

“Which period are they?”

“First century
A.D.
”

Nidal raised his gun again. “Translate the words. Whichever ones interested you. You’re an archaeologist. Latin should not be a problem.”

Jack interpreted the inscription.

“Interesting.” A smile creased Nidal’s face as he studied the marble, then he turned back to Jack. “But you know what I also find interesting, Mr. Cane? That despite warnings you persist in trying to find the scroll. That is admirable. Except you forgot one very important point.”

“What’s that?”

“The scroll doesn’t belong to you. Where is it, Mr. Cane?”

“I’ve got no idea.”

“Liar.” Nidal struck Jack another blow across the face, this one even more vicious.

Jack reeled back, the blow stinging him like an electric shock, and clapped a hand to his jaw. “You mind telling me what I’m missing here? Who are you? What do you want?”

Nidal jerked his pistol. “Ultimately your life if you don’t tell me the truth, Mr. Cane. Now move, you’re both coming with us.”

“Where?” Jack asked.

“To meet someone who’s going to decide if you live or die.”

JACK FOLLOWED NIDAL
and Yasmin back through the passageway. The Serb covered them with the machine pistol and carried Jack’s lamp.

As they mounted the steps from the rotunda into the ruined underground street, Nidal said, “It may not be safe going back the way we came. You’ve excavated in Rome, Cane. You have knowledge of these passageways. Find us another way out of here.”

“You know a lot.”

“Where’s the nearest way out—or do I have to hurt the woman to force you to tell me?”

Jack studied the ruined street, trying to get his bearings. He pointed to a jumble of huge stone blocks. Another archway lay beyond, smothered in darkness. “There ought to be an exit somewhere that way.”

“You had better be right, Cane.”

“It ought to eventually lead us to a metal stairway. It leads up to street level on the Via Famagosta. Except the exit door is probably locked.”

The Arab’s partner waved his gun. “I’ll take care of that. Get going.”

“Wait,” Nidal said, and traded his weapon with his partner. “Give me the MAC-10 and take my pistol.”

The Serb took the Beretta and Nidal cocked the machine pistol. He aimed it at Jack and gestured for him to move. “If you’re lying or attempt to escape I’m going to cut you down like a dog.”

As Jack stepped forward to lead the way, a firm voice commanded in English, “Throw down your weapons. Nobody move or we’ll shoot.”

The order was immediately repeated in Arabic as Lela and her companion stepped out of the shadows and aimed their pistols.

Jack locked eyes with Lela a second before she told the Arab and his partner, “Obey the order. Throw your weapons down now!”

In an instant Nidal brought up the MAC-10 and fired. A burst of gunfire stitched across the chamber walls, gouging plaster and sending Lela and Ari diving for cover as Jack crouched for shelter behind a shattered stone column.

The Serb dragged Yasmin toward the jumble of stone blocks and disappeared under the archway. Nidal followed them, firing another burst back into the chamber.

The gunfire died but the echo seemed to go on forever as Jack moved from behind his cover. He saw that Lela’s companion was already on his feet. The man raced toward the archway and fired a volley of shots into the passageway, the ricocheting rounds sparking off the walls.

A cry of pain erupted from somewhere in the darkness, then a ferocious burst of fire answered from Nidal’s machine pistol, gouging the plaster walls and forcing Ari to throw himself to the ground for cover.

The instant the gunfire died Jack sprinted toward the archway. He heard another pained cry from deep in the shadows.
Has Yasmin been hit?

As he went to plunge into the passageway he felt hard metal prod against the back of his neck. Lela appeared behind him. “Stop, Jack. Stay where you are.”

“I’ve got to go after them, Lela. Yasmin’s been abducted.”

“I told you to stay—”

“Shoot me if you want, but I’m still going.” Jack surged past her, darting blindly into the pitch-black archway.

“Jack!” Lela went to move after him just as Ari struggled to his feet, gripping his wounded arm, his face ashen.

“I think I shot one of the creeps. Why didn’t you stop Cane? You let him get away.”

“Let’s hope you didn’t hit the woman, Ari. Jack claimed she’d been
abducted
. And I couldn’t just shoot him. We don’t know the full story here.”

“Just do your job and catch him, Lela.” Ari was enraged but as he staggered over to the archway in pursuit he came to a sudden halt, clutching his wound, his face twisted with agony.

Lela said. “What’s wrong?”

“My wound’s opened.”

“Let me see.” Lela held up the lamp. Blood streamed from Ari’s arm. “It’s gotten worse. You’re losing more blood.”

Lela tightened the tie on the wound, then checked the pulse on Ari’s other wrist. “I think that might stem the flow. But your pulse is weak and you’ll need proper medical help. Sit down or you’ll bleed to death.”

Ari slumped onto one of the limestone blocks. Lela fumbled in his pockets. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to find your cell phone.”

“It’s in my right pocket. Why?”

Lela found Ari’s cell, examined the screen, and handed the phone back. “You’ve still got a reasonable signal strength. Call Cohen. Tell him where you are.”

“How can I? I don’t know where the heck I am.”

“I heard Jack say we were somewhere near the Via Famagosta.” Lela fumbled again in Ari’s pocket and relit the remaining lamp with his lighter. Then she checked her magazine for rounds and slammed it home. “Have Cohen find the nearest underground entrance and come and get you. Tell him to bring a doctor. You ought to be okay until help comes. But if you start to feel worse, call me on my cell.”

Lela readied her Sig in the two-hand position. She clutched the lamp’s wire holder in her fingers and moved to the mouth of the darkened arch.

Ari’s furious voice boomed around the chamber walls. “Just where do you think you’re going, Lela?”

But she had already disappeared into the passageway.

JACK MOVED DEEPER
into the passageway, feeling his way along the coal-black walls. Seconds later he banged his head and staggered back, pain jolting through his skull.

A rush of dizziness overcame him. He put a hand to his brow and his skull hurt like mad. He reached out his palm and touched something round and hard—a pillar, he guessed—thicker in girth than an oak tree.

Without light, he felt totally lost.

“Jack. Wait, please. I’m not going to harm you.”

From behind him came the sound of someone stumbling over rocks. He looked back and saw a flash of light. Twenty yards away Lela was clambering over the rubble, clutching a lamp in one hand, her pistol in the other.

Jack froze. He could thrash on in darkness and get himself lost or hurt or both. Lela had a lamp. She also had a weapon. He needed her.

She reached him and caught her breath. “Are you crazy, going on alone?”

“No arguments, Lela, not now. I’ve got to find Yasmin and I’m losing time. If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to use that gun.” Jack peered ahead but the light from Nidal’s lamp had disappeared.

Lela put away her Sig, brushed her hand across Jack’s forehead, and showed him her crimson-stained fingers. “Do you know you’ve got a gash on your scalp? If you keep rushing ahead unarmed, all you’ll do is earn yourself a slab in the mortuary.”

They locked eyes and Jack said, “What would you suggest? That I borrow your lamp and gun?”

“Very smart. You’ve probably never used a firearm.”

“Who are you kidding? That’s a Sig nine-mil you’re carrying. I was plinking cans with a twenty-two on my grandfather’s farm when I was twelve. But I’m confused. How does an Israeli police officer go armed in a foreign country? Isn’t that against the law?”

Lela reached for her Sig again as she stepped past him and moved ahead, swinging the light. “Explanations later. Be careful where you walk, this ground’s treacherous. If anything happens that causes me to drop my pistol, find it fast and use it if you have to, okay?”

“Now you’re talking.”