Kingdom of Darkness (14 page)

‘I took the quick way down after I chucked you that horse. It worked for Jackie Chan, so I thought I’d give it a shot – before I
got
shot.’ Wincing at the protest from his bruised muscles, he clambered down. ‘Speaking of the horse . . .’

‘It’s over there,’ Nina told him, gesturing towards the SUV. Zane was standing beside the statue, warily keeping watch.

‘Great. Let’s secure the fucking thing.’

Falk met them at the Toyota. ‘Mr Chase, hello again!’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m sure you’re as glad to see me as I am to see you.’

‘Wouldn’t put money on it,’ Eddie told him. ‘But . . . you watched out for Nina, so I’ve got to give you that, at least.’ The Mossad agent smiled and extended his hand. Somewhat reluctantly, Eddie raised his own to complete the handshake.

Falk smiled. ‘You see? We are not as bad as you think. Jared, Mr Chase just saved us – you should show some gratitude.’

Zane had the expression of a child being forced to thank a relative for a horrible sweater. ‘I wouldn’t say he
saved
us,’ he objected. ‘He . . . helped.’

‘Glad to be of service,’ said Eddie sarcastically. But he held out his hand . . . then stiffened in alarm as Rasche reappeared at the end of the alley, aiming his MPX at Zane.

The young Israeli saw the Englishman’s reaction and spun to find the threat as Eddie pushed Nina to the ground—

A gunshot echoed across the street.

But Rasche’s round didn’t hit its intended target. Falk threw himself in front of the younger agent, taking the bullet in his back. He crumpled to the ground. Blood gushed from the entrance wound.

‘
Ben!
’ Zane screamed, eyes wide in horror. He fired at Rasche, but the war criminal had already run back into the alley. One last futile shot, then he crouched beside his fallen comrade.

Eddie was already trying to help the downed man, but bitter past experience told him there was nothing he could do. ‘The bullet’s still in there,’ he told Zane all the same. ‘Put pressure on the wound, we might be able to—’

‘
No!
’ said Falk breathlessly. ‘Jared, the phone, the wallet – you must take them and follow any leads. And . . .’ He coughed, producing specks of bloody spittle. ‘And take everything else. You have to leave me.’

Zane shook his head. ‘No, I can’t—’

‘You must! You know the rules.’ His eyes flicked beseechingly towards Nina and Eddie. ‘The Egyptians cannot know I am from the Mossad. We may be at peace, but they are not our friends. And they cannot take you, either,’ he went on, a warning note entering his voice even through the pain. One hand fumbled inside his clothing. ‘Here, here.’ He produced the wallet and phone and tried to pass them to the younger man, but they slipped from his grasp.

Zane caught them. Anguished, he leaned over his partner and spoke pleadingly in Hebrew. Falk shook his head, a tear running from the corner of one eye. ‘You know the rules,’ he repeated. ‘You must . . . accomplish the mission.
Tzeth’a leshalom veshuvh’a leshalom, areyh tes’eyer
 . . .’

He began to smile, but it froze on his lips. The old man fell still.

Zane’s fists clenched, his whole body shuddering. He opened his mouth as if to cry out . . . but then forced it closed again. Quickly and coldly, he ran his hands through Falk’s pockets, taking out every form of identification, every personal possession. Grim task completed, he looked up at the couple. ‘Say nothing to the Egyptians.’ It was as much threat as request.

‘We won’t,’ Nina promised, feeling his loss. Eddie nodded.

Zane choked back his emotions, then hurried off through the stranded traffic. Within moments he had vanished, slipping away from the arriving cops and soldiers.

Eddie looked from Falk’s body to the statue of Bucephalus. ‘That fucking thing had better be worth all of this,’ he rumbled.

‘I hope it is,’ whispered Nina.

12

The statue rested on a tabletop in a government office, the survivors of the tomb’s opening standing around it.

Habib was first to speak. ‘This may not be the best time,’ he said, ‘but . . . with the death of Dr Assad, the responsibility for dealing with this situation is mine.’

Banna gave him a sharp look. ‘I am in charge of the dig.’

‘The dig, yes, but this statue clearly has a wider importance. It must be dealt with by the Ministry – it is now a government matter, not simply archaeological.’

‘The IHA is involved too,’ said Nina. ‘That makes it an international issue.’

The reminder did not sit well with either Banna or Habib. ‘You are no longer part of the IHA,’ said the former.

‘I was asked to come here by the United Nations, at the request of the Egyptian government. The IHA representative on site – and my friend – is dead. Until someone higher up tells me otherwise, I’d say that makes me the ranking IHA representative. Wouldn’t you agree?’

It was clear they did not, but neither had a compelling rebuttal at hand, or for that matter the willingness to argue. Banna shrugged, then returned his attention to the sculpture. ‘Very well.’

‘The statue should be removed to a more secure location,’ Habib insisted. ‘I will take it to the Ministry in Cairo.’

‘Make your arrangements,’ said Banna with a dismissive wave. ‘We have work to do.’ The irked official took out his phone and left the room. ‘Dr Wilde, it is time you told me everything. Who are these raiders, what do they want, and why is this statue so important to them?’

Nina took a deep breath before launching into an account of what she had learned about the escaped Nazi war criminals, and events from her encounter in Los Angeles onwards – minus any mention of the Mossad agents. ‘I’m still as dubious as you look to be about the Spring of Immortality really existing,’ she concluded, noting the Egyptian’s sceptical expression. ‘But I’ve now seen three of the SS men who escaped after the war. They should be in their nineties, or even older – but they’re not. That suggests they’ve found
something
that slows the effects of ageing . . . and their being willing to take such extreme action to get their hands on this,’ she indicated the statue, ‘means they’re convinced it can lead them to its source.’

Eddie nodded, then winced; the cut to his scalp had been stitched up, but was still painful. ‘If you’re an escaped Nazi who’s managed to stay hidden for seventy years, you don’t stick your head out of your hole unless it’s for something
really
important.’

‘It’s not just the original guys, though,’ said Macy. ‘You said there were, what, eight of them? The people who attacked us were like a small army. And most of them were young.’

‘
Boys from Brazil
, like I said,’ Eddie told Nina.

‘They’re
not
clones,’ she replied. ‘But they knew the Bucephalus statue would be in the burial chamber with Alexander, so they had information we didn’t. Presumably, they also knew that it would tell them what they needed.’

‘The riddle of Bucephalus,’ said Banna. He used a magnifying glass to examine the tiny letters inscribed upon the horse’s reins. ‘But what
is
the riddle? We have read all the text, and there is nothing that could be a puzzle.’

The writing had been translated into both Arabic and English. Nina picked up a transcript. ‘Well, let’s see what we’ve got. According to this, Andreas the cook made the statue to honour Alexander.’

‘Three hundred years after Alexander died,’ Macy reminded her dubiously.

‘It’s not as crazy as it sounds. We’ve got bad guys who are half a century younger than they should be, looking for something that’s linked to the legend of the Spring of Immortality. Maybe it’s more than just a legend.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to us,’ noted Eddie.

‘Whether or not it was made by Andreas, most of the text is in praise of Alexander.’ Banna recited an example from the Arabic translation. ‘“None could hope to match the wisdom and bravery of Alexander; he was and shall ever be unique in all of history, a true giant amongst mere men whose greatness will never be equalled.” The rest says that solving the riddle of Bucephalus will lead you to the Spring of Immortality. But there is no riddle.’

‘Maybe it originally had a base with more writing on it,’ Macy suggested.

‘There would have been marks on the feet where a base was attached, but there aren’t any,’ said Nina. ‘It’s a single sculpted piece. A very good one, too.’

‘The workmanship is beautiful,’ Banna agreed, admiring its lines. ‘A priceless artefact.’ He ran a fingertip along the horse’s neck, stopping at the ragged bullet hole in the mane. ‘Even with this damage,’ he added, giving Eddie a disapproving glare.

The Englishman was unrepentant. ‘If I’d hit it a couple of inches lower, I would’ve blown the whole thing to bits and all this would be over.’

Banna muttered something in Arabic that Nina doubted was complimentary. ‘Brute force has no place in archaeology,’ he went on.

‘Yeah, I’ve been telling him that for six years now,’ she said.

Eddie made a face at her. ‘Funny, I seem to remember it working for us quite a few times. It’s like that whole Gordian Knot thing – Alexander just chopped it in half. Problem solved! If you can’t figure something out with brainpower, sometimes you’ve got to take the direct approach . . .’

He tailed off, staring at the statue with sudden intensity. ‘What?’ Nina asked.

‘I think I’ve just solved the riddle of Bucephalus.’ He picked up the statue—

And before anyone could stop him, dashed it to pieces on the floor.

Banna gawped at the broken remains. ‘You – you
maniac
! What have you done?’ He ran to the office door, shouting for security.

‘Eddie, Jesus Christ!’ Nina cried. ‘Why the hell did you do that?’

‘Because that’s what it said to do.’ He crouched and picked through the debris. ‘Something like “Only Alexander’s wisdom could find the solution to the Gordian Knot, and to solve the riddle of Bucephalus you need wisdom like his”, wasn’t it?’

Several members of the Antiquities Special Protection Squad rushed into the room. Banna stabbed an accusing finger at the Englishman. ‘Arrest him! He has destroyed a priceless relic!’

‘Yeah, and I’ve found an even more priceless one,’ Eddie announced as the uniformed men surrounded him. He raised one hand to show he was not a threat – and in the other held up a metal object. ‘See?’

‘Wait, wait,’ Nina said urgently. ‘Dr Banna, look! He’s right – there was something
inside
the statue.’

Banna hesitated before issuing a command for the ASPS to stand back, but not withdraw. ‘Give it to me.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Eddie said sarcastically as it was snatched away. Banna gazed at the new discovery, Nina joining him.

‘It’s a fish,’ she whispered. The hidden treasure was around nine inches long and half an inch thick, a flat bronze lens shape with a small triangular tail attached by a hinge to one end. Lines of tiny Greek text were inscribed around the artefact’s outer edge. A circular hole at the head, a centimetre in diameter, represented the fish’s eye. A slot ran down the centre line, some sort of measuring scale marked along it. Standing proud of the slot was a metal pointer, which could apparently move; glimpses of a mechanism were visible through the opening. ‘Turn it over.’

Banna did so, revealing several bronze cogwheels on the underside. The largest two were solid discs marked with Greek numerals, while the others resembled the inner workings of an analogue watch. The Egyptian cautiously rotated the biggest cog, causing some of the others to move in turn. The pointer in the slot shifted position slightly. A turn of the second disc set other cogs into motion, the end result also being translated to the pointer. ‘It is a machine,’ he said, anger replaced by wonderment.

‘Yeah, but a machine to do what?’ Macy asked.

‘I guess this’ll tell us,’ said Nina, pointing out the text. ‘We need to get it translated, as soon as we can.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Banna said, nodding absently. ‘It resembles the Antikythera Mechanism. Not as complex, but similar precision in the workmanship.’

‘The what?’ Eddie asked as he stood. The ASPS were still regarding him with suspicion. ‘It’s all right, lads, I don’t think he’s bothered about me breaking the statue any more.’

‘It would have been better if you had let us X-ray it first,’ said Banna, ‘but yes, I think this is the true treasure.’

‘So do I,’ Nina told him. She reluctantly shifted her gaze from the artefact to her husband. ‘The Antikythera Mechanism was found in a shipwreck from the first century
BC
,’ she explained. ‘Our best guess is that it was a kind of astronomical calculator – basically, an early computer. It seems that you could enter dates using the dials, and it would tell you the positions of the planets at those times.’

‘So what does this one do?’ Macy asked.

‘Tells you how to find the Spring of Immortality, at a guess,’ said Eddie. ‘Although it’d have been a lot easier if Andreas had just painted a little map on the horse.’

Nina looked back at the text. ‘He didn’t do that because . . . because it’s meant to be a
challenge
,’ she said. ‘You have to prove that you’re as smart as Alexander in order to reach it. “Those who believe themselves Alexander’s equal shall learn the truth if they have the wisdom and bravery and endurance to follow the path to the spring.”’

‘Sounds a bit ominous,’ said Eddie.

Banna also peered at the inscriptions. ‘I think this describes a landmark,’ he said, pointing out one line. ‘It says the Gate of Alexander is found on a mountain. But it does not say which mountain.’

‘That’s the challenge,’ Nina realised. ‘You have to use the mechanism on the fish to work out the route. It looks like a pretty complicated procedure, so it’s a test of your intelligence as well as your navigational skills.’ She continued reading; a word caught her eye. ‘It mentions a gnomon here . . .’

‘What’s a gnomon?’ Macy asked.

Eddie grinned. ‘Gnome drugs.’

‘Huh?
Ohhh
,’ she added with a groan as she got the joke.

‘It’s part of a sundial,’ said Nina. ‘The stick that casts the shadow – wait, is that what this is? A way to navigate by using the sun?’ She poked the tip of her little finger into the fish’s eye. ‘If you put a gnomon in here and aligned the slot with the shadow at midday, you could use it to work out your latitude . . .’

‘There is a height written here,’ Banna said with sudden excitement. ‘One
dichas
– half a foot.’

‘A gnomon that tall would be enough to produce a shadow, yeah. But how would you deal with seasonal changes in the sun’s inclination?’ The answer came to both archaeologists simultaneously. ‘The dials! Turn it over!’

The Egyptian flipped the relic to reveal the mechanism. ‘One dial for months, another for days, perhaps?’

Nina examined the metal cogs. ‘I think you’re right. It’s a way to set the date.’

Habib re-entered the room. ‘Why are they here?’ he asked as he regarded the ASPS with concern – then his expression turned to shock on seeing the statue’s remains. A high-pitched burst of Arabic, then: ‘What is going on? What happened to the statue?’

‘The statue is not important,’ Banna told him almost absently, his focus on the bronze fish.

The official seemed on the verge of panic. ‘Not important?
Not important?
But I have told the Minister that I will bring it to Cairo . . .’

‘The raiders weren’t after the statue,’ said Nina. ‘They wanted something hidden
inside
it. That.’ She gestured at the object in Banna’s hands.

Habib finally noticed the relic. ‘Inside the statue?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. It’s a sort of treasure map. We don’t know where it leads yet, but we will, given time.’

‘I see, I see. Then yes, I suppose the statue is not important.’ He nodded slowly, as if trying to convince himself of his own words. ‘But the – a fish, is it? The fish should still be taken to Cairo. It will be safer in the Ministry than here. Even you must see that, Dr Banna.’

The Egyptian archaeologist was annoyed at having his authority challenged again, but conceded the point. ‘I . . . yes, it will. But we must arrange secure transport – I will not have you drive it there in your glovebox!’ He put down the artefact and spoke to one of the ASPS before having an exchange with the increasingly unhappy Habib, Banna countering some objection with a dismissive wave. ‘The ASPS will arrange an armed convoy to Cairo tomorrow morning,’ he finally told Nina. ‘Until then, the Andreas relic will remain under guard here. I shall continue to examine it.’

‘I think,’ Nina said gently, ‘it might be better if you took the rest of the day off.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, almost affronted.

‘I mean that . . . you almost died today. And people you know, your friends,
did
die. You might think that pressing on regardless is the best way to deal with it, but it’s not. Trust me, I know. Ignoring what’s happened isn’t the way to honour Dr Assad, or Bill Schofield and Dina, and all the others who were killed. Right now, you need time to process what’s happened.’

The young man seemed about to object, then looked down at the broken sculpture. ‘You are right,’ he said at last. ‘A lot has happened, and . . .’ He tried to find the right words to express his feelings – or to admit to them. ‘I cannot pretend that it has not. You are right,’ he repeated.

‘Is there anyone you can be with?’ Macy asked.

‘In Alexandria? No, my family are all in Qena. I will . . .’ His face turned downcast. Nina realised the person he had probably been closest to was the late Assad. ‘I will go to my apartment. I will be okay,’ he went on quickly, raising a hand to forestall any further suggestions or sympathies. ‘I just want to be on my own, to think.’

‘If you need anything . . .’ Nina offered.

Banna shook his head. ‘I will be fine. But yes, we shall begin again tomorrow.’

‘Will that thing be safe here?’ Eddie asked.

‘The ASPS will protect it; this building also has soldiers guarding it. And the men who attacked us are now fewer in number, thanks to you.’