Kingdom of Darkness (38 page)

‘Not really,’ she said, ‘but . . . I’m doing it anyway.’

He smiled, then kissed her. ‘Come on, then.’

Hand in hand, they followed the others into the dense, damp forest.

The going soon became harder than expected. Not because the terrain was particularly difficult, though it was quite steep in places. What was wearing the party down wasn’t physical. Under the thick, obscuring canopy of the trees, the atmosphere was oppressive, the very air thick and cloying. With clouds blotting out the sun, there were not even shafts of light through the trees to relieve the twilight gloom.

‘What was this place called in the
Alexander Romance
?’ Eddie asked as they trudged up the slope.

‘Alexander first knew it as the Land of the Blessed,’ Nina replied. ‘But once he was inside, he started calling it the Land of Darkness – or the Region or Kingdom, depending on the translation. Andreas called it the Kingdom of Darkness on the relic. It’s an accurate description, whichever way. There’s a passage in the
Romance
where it got so dark even in daytime that Alexander and his men couldn’t go any deeper without risking getting lost.’

‘So how did they get through?’

She smiled. ‘Wisdom. There was an old man in Alexander’s army who told him they should only ride mares who had foals. They left the foals behind, so when they eventually returned after exploring, the mares led them back to their children. Alexander was so impressed that he gave the old man ten pounds of gold as a reward.’

‘See, Jared?’ Eddie called to the Israeli, who was a short distance ahead. ‘Age and experience win again.’ He turned back to Nina and asked more quietly: ‘Would that actually work?’

‘I haven’t a clue. I’m not a horse expert. But it was while they were exploring that Andreas found the Spring of Immortality, so if it still exists . . .’ She let the words hang in the stifling air.

Zane slowed to let them draw level. ‘What did it say about the spring in the
Alexander Romance
? What exactly are we looking for?’

‘There wasn’t much description in the
Romance
itself,’ Nina told him. ‘Alexander and his men had a choice of paths; the left one turned out to be impassable, so they went right even though it was darker – actually, Alexander later left a message for travellers that to get through the Land of the Blessed, they should always take the right-hand path. They eventually found a place where the water “flashed like lightning”, which Andreas discovered to be the Spring of Immortality. As for what Andreas said on the inscriptions on the fish,’ she glanced over her shoulder at her backpack, which contained the bronze artefact amongst her other gear, ‘the spring is through the Gate of Alexander, which is in the shadow of the area’s tallest peak. The mountain we’re heading for seems to fit the bill, but beyond that, all I can hope is that we’ll know it when we see it.
If
we see it.’

‘And if we’re not too late to get to it,’ Eddie said with a sudden urgency as he saw the men ahead react to something. ‘Get down.’

They crouched behind a tree. ‘What is it?’ Nina asked.

‘I can hear an engine,’ Zane whispered. ‘It must be on the track.’ He produced a pair of compact binoculars and peered downhill.

The sound of a vehicle jolting along rough ground reached them. But nothing was visible for several seconds . . . until a flicker of movement appeared between the trees, heading towards the road.

‘It’s the jeep,’ said Zane, tracking it. ‘A Safir; I was right,’ he added with a little smugness directed at the Englishman. ‘Looks like an officer in the passenger seat . . . Revolutionary Guard.’

‘What about the other trucks?’ Eddie asked.

‘I can only hear the jeep.’ They waited in silence until the vehicle passed and its engine note died away. ‘I think that was the local Guard commander going home rather than sit around in a damp forest. Leitz paid him to get Kroll and his men to where they want to go, but now that he’s fulfilled his part of the deal, he’s leaving.’

‘I can’t blame him,’ said Nina. ‘But I guess that means they’ve already started their search.’ She looked up the slope, but nothing was visible through the tree cover. ‘And we’ve still got four or five kilometres to go.’

‘We’d better keep moving, then,’ said Zane.

The team continued through the woods, eventually reaching the ridge. The trees thinned out as they climbed, enough of the sky visible to let Nina get a GPS fix. ‘Okay, this is where we are,’ she said, showing the others their position on the map. ‘So it’s about another three kilometres to the search area. I would have tried to use the fish to confirm we’re at the right latitude, but it’s kinda cloudy.’ Muted amusement from the others.

‘It’ll take a while to check the whole thing,’ said Eddie. The zone she had marked covered more than a square kilometre. ‘And that’s assuming it’s not already crawling with Nazis.’

‘We know roughly what we’re looking for, though.’ She produced the bronze fish from her rucksack, running a fingertip along one of the lines of Greek text. ‘The Gate of Alexander seems from the context to be a physical structure. It might still be standing.’

Zane examined the map. ‘Won’t it be lower down than that? Surely a spring can’t start too high up a mountain; where would the water come from?’

‘Actually, there are springs recorded practically on mountain summits. The reservoir can be miles underground – the weight of the rock forces the water up through fissures.’ She folded the map, returning it and the artefact to her pack. ‘But according to Andreas, the Gate of Alexander is in the shadow of the tallest peak, so I’m guessing – I’m
hoping
– that it’s not right at the top.’

‘She’s usually pretty good at this, don’t worry,’ Eddie told the Israeli. ‘Okay, crack on!’

They set off again, tromping back into the darkness of the forest. The ground became steeper, slowing their progress. It took well over an hour before they reached the edge of the target area, the sheer-sided peak looming over them to the south, and nearly another hour after that before their search found anything.

What they discovered was not a spring, or any kind of gateway.

‘Shit!’ Eddie hissed, waving the others to a halt. ‘Get into cover!’

‘What is it?’ Nina asked as she scurried behind a tree.

‘Footprints. They’re already here!’

The forest floor was covered in a thick layer of fallen foliage, absorbing the group’s individual tracks, but not even the carpet of mulch could hide the passage of dozens of men. A churned trail of boot prints angled up the shadowed hillside.

Zane glared up the slope. ‘They might have found the spring already.’

‘Maybe, but they haven’t come back down yet,’ Nina said. ‘We’ve still got a chance to stop them.’

‘We’re outnumbered at least three to one!’

‘Thought that was what Mossad were into,’ said Eddie with a half-smile. ‘Surrounded by your enemies, never backing down, all that?’

The Israeli was not amused. ‘This isn’t exactly our homeland. But no, I wasn’t planning to back down. Not when we’re this close.’

The team moved parallel to the Nazis’ trail, leaving a gap of about a hundred feet. They headed higher, alert to the slightest activity. But all they heard was glum birdsong. The climb continued, five minutes passing without incident, ten—

One of the Mossad agents raised a hand. Everyone immediately stopped and crouched. Nina saw nothing ahead. She tried to pick out any sounds over the sudden drum of her heart . . .

Faint voices reached her, along with a rhythmic thumping and scraping. Looking uphill, she saw that the slope eased not far above, a broad shelf running across the forested hillside. The noises were coming from higher and to the right. ‘Sounds like they’re digging.’

‘Back up,’ ordered Zane. ‘We’ll go around them and get a view from above.’

‘Keep well clear,’ Eddie warned. ‘They might have posted sentries.’

The group made a wide circle around the hub of activity, looping in towards it from higher up. The digging was taking place a few hundred feet above the shelf, not far from the base of the peak’s southern face. Eddie dropped to a crawl, stopping behind a fungus-covered log. The Mossad agents spread out nearby, Zane and Nina joining the Englishman to look through the trees at what lay below.

‘Oh God,’ Nina whispered. ‘We’re too late . . .’

33

Kroll surveyed his men’s work with satisfaction – and growing anticipation. ‘You should feel proud, Banna!’ he said to the cowed Egyptian. ‘You brought us here, and we’ve found exactly what Andreas described. The Gate of Alexander.’

The Nazi troops were excavating what they had discovered protruding from the slope. Whether it had been deliberately buried or the soil had simply built up over time, Kroll neither knew nor cared; what mattered was that the way to the spring was almost clear. The Gate of Alexander was a stone arch four metres high and three wide, at the end of a passage cut into the hillside. Behind it was a stone slab, clearly covering an entrance; another few minutes of work would see enough dirt cleared away for it to be pulled open.

‘If that’s really what this is.’ Rasche sat on a tree stump nearby, watching with impatience. The silver-lined water barrels were lined up behind him.

‘What else could it be?’ Kroll strode to the arch and pointed at the Greek text carved into it. ‘“This gate marks Alexander’s journey into the Land of the Blessed. Heed his words, and you will have nothing to fear.” This
is
the place – the spring is here.’

‘Where, though?’ The question came from a figure wearing white, his clothing incongruous amongst the soldiers’ pale brown fatigues. Frederic Leitz had joined them on their arrival in Iran, large sums of money smoothly changing hands to ensure that their presence in the country would go without official notice, and also to provide them with an escort to their destination. The Revolutionary Guard had now gone, but left trucks below to take the Nazis – and the thousands of litres of life-prolonging liquid they hoped to be carrying – back to their chartered plane. ‘If there is a spring here, then where’s the water?’

‘Inside there.’ Kroll jabbed a fat finger at the stone slab. ‘Andreas built a shrine to hide it, so only those equal to Alexander would ever be able to find it. We’ve proved ourselves worthy.’

The entrance was now clear. Ropes were hooked to the top of the slab, then under Schneider’s direction the soldiers formed into lines and heaved upon them. Loose soil dropped around the great block, the lines drawn taut as guitar strings . . . then its upper edge crunched away from the surrounding rock.

‘Keep pulling!’ Kroll bellowed. ‘Get it open! Pull, pull!’

Schneider took up the shout, turning it into a chant. The soldiers hauled in unison. The slab tilted outwards, little by little – then suddenly broke free and slammed to the ground.

Kroll pushed through his men. There was indeed a passage hidden behind the slab. ‘It’s here!’ he shouted. ‘Bring the lights – we’ve found it!’

The triumph in Kroll’s voice told Nina that he had reached his goal. ‘What do we do?’

‘Attack now, while they’re still off guard,’ said Zane, checking his Uzi sub-machine gun. ‘We’ll cut most of them down before they can react.’

‘And you’ll cut down Ubayy too.’ Rasche was pushing the young Egyptian after the Nazi leader.

‘It’s a price we’ll have to pay.’ He signalled to the other Mossad agents.

‘It won’t work,’ Eddie told him urgently. ‘We’re too far off, and there’s too many trees in the way. You won’t even get half of them before they regroup.’

‘We can still take out the leaders, though.’ Weapon ready, Zane started to move out from his hiding place.

Eddie pulled him back. ‘Jared,’ he said, fixing the angry young man with a firm stare, ‘trust me. It
won’t work
.’

Zane glared at him, the other operatives watching intently. Then he muttered a curse. ‘So what
do
we do?’ he demanded.

‘Nothing we can do; not yet, anyway. We need to get a better position, for a start.’

‘But we’ve got the higher ground here –
and
surprise.’

‘Which means sod-all if you don’t have decent line of sight.’

Zane clenched his jaw in frustration, but finally nodded. ‘Okay. We’ll wait.’ Another signal, telling his men to hold. ‘But we can’t let them get away with the water. If they start to pull out, then we attack – whether we’re in a good position or not.’

‘We might not need to,’ said Nina as furious shouting arose from below. ‘I don’t think they’ve found what they expected . . .’

Kroll eagerly led the way through the entrance. Schneider, Leitz and Rasche followed, the latter bringing Banna with him. The Nazi leader shone his torch around the underground space, the beam finding . . .

Very little. The short passage from the surface opened into a small chamber, the walls lined with murals and Greek text. A stone basin was set into a side wall. Kroll’s eye was instantly caught by the glint of silver. He hurried to it, finding the elongated oval bowl lined with the precious metal. It was filled with water – but only a small amount, the shallow receptacle not much larger than the size of two cupped hands. A thin silver spout projected from the wall just above it. Glistening at the tip of the metal pipe was a water droplet. He watched it intently, but it showed no signs of growing larger.

‘Is that it?’ asked Leitz.

‘Is that
it
?’ echoed Rasche, with scathing disappointment instead of curiosity. ‘I could
spit
more than that! That much water wouldn’t even last us a month!’

‘Shut up,’ Kroll snapped, dipping a fingertip into the liquid. He felt the same electric tingle as he had over seventy years earlier, the very first time he touched the water hidden beneath the farmhouse.

‘Have we found it?’ said Schneider. ‘Is it the spring?’

‘It is,’ Kroll replied, feeling relief . . . and a rising anger. Rasche was right: the amount of water in the brimming basin was only a tiny fraction of what they needed. ‘But—’

Rasche completed his thought. ‘But not enough. There isn’t enough!’ he erupted. ‘We would have been better off if we’d stayed in the Enklave and never even gone to Egypt!’

The Nazi leader turned upon him. ‘Are you questioning me?’

‘You’re damn right I am! We’ve lost our base, we’ve lost over half our men, we’ve lost what little water we had left – and you’ve taken money from a lot of very powerful people with the promise of a share of – of this
piss-puddle
!’ He stabbed a finger at the basin.

Schneider glanced towards the soldiers staring through the entrance. ‘Not in front of the men. We can’t afford to seem divided.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do, you degenerate little shit!’ Rasche shouted, before glaring at the white-clad man. ‘And I doubt even if we refund them that Leitz will return his percentage.’

The Luxembourger raised his hands in feigned apology. ‘All transactions are final. That has always been our deal.’

‘There won’t be any refunds,’ growled Kroll. ‘This is an all-or-nothing mission. And I’m not willing to accept nothing.’

Rasche made a disgusted sound, then stalked out. ‘We’ve thrown it all away!’ he fired back over his shoulder.

Kroll scowled after him before rounding on Banna, who had been watching with fearful incomprehension. ‘Dr Banna!’ he barked, reverting to English. ‘We followed
your
instructions to this place. But this is not a spring; it is not even a trickle.’ The droplet of water on the spout’s tip had still not swelled enough to drip into the basin. ‘Where is the spring? Tell me!’

‘I – I do not know!’ Banna cried. ‘This is what Andreas described – we came through the Gate of Alexander, just as the text said.’

‘And what else did it say? If you’re hiding something—’

‘You still have pictures of the relic!’ Banna interrupted, finding some small cinder of defiance. ‘You read the Greek text yourself – and you did what it said to do! It brought us here.’ He gestured at the bowl. ‘That is the spring, where Andreas said it was hidden. I am sorry it is not all you hoped for, but there it is.’

Kroll’s hand moved as if to draw his holstered Luger, but then withdrew. ‘I will bring the photographs. Read the text again, and make sure you have not missed anything.’ He glowered at the young archaeologist. ‘If you cannot find the spring, you are of no use to me – just like the American girl. Remember that. Schneider, watch him,’ he ordered as he left the chamber. Leitz followed, leaving Schneider to hold his prisoner at gunpoint.

The soldiers looked on uncertainly as he emerged. ‘Well?’ demanded Rasche. ‘Now what do we do?’

‘We wait for the Arab to read the Greek text again,’ Kroll replied. He ordered an underling to give a folder of photos to Banna, then mopped his damp brow. ‘We’ll make camp in the meantime. On the flat ground, down there. I’ve had enough of hills.’

‘And what if the Arab doesn’t come up with anything?’

‘Then I’ll tear this mountain apart until we find the spring.’ The obese SS officer stared at his subordinate, daring him to make a challenge; when none was forthcoming, he began to waddle down the slope.

‘Are they leaving?’ Nina asked, partly in hope and partly disbelief, as the Nazis filed away after Kroll. From the team’s position above the dig site she had been unable to see what was inside, but even at a distance it was clear from Rasche’s body language alone that it had not lived up to expectations.

‘No, Kroll said something about making camp,’ Zane told her.

‘Must be going back to that flat bit to do it,’ Eddie said. He had taken a rough headcount; there were between twenty-five and thirty Nazis, and nearly all were now on the move. ‘Fat bastard can’t handle steep ground.’

Nina thought back to their circuitous ascent. ‘That’s, what? A hundred yards down the hill?’

‘At least. Why, what’re you thinking?’

‘If they leave the site unguarded, we can walk right down to it!’

Zane surveyed the scene below. ‘I see four men standing watch – and Schneider went into whatever’s down there and hasn’t come out.’

‘Five against ten,’ said Eddie. ‘I like those odds a lot better.’

‘We still have to save Ubayy, though,’ Nina reminded him. ‘They might kill him rather than give him up.’

‘They won’t get the chance,’ said Zane, with understated menace. ‘Okay, once the rest of them are clear, we’ll move closer. We won’t do anything until we’re sure we can secure Banna,’ he assured Nina.

They waited for some time. The main group of soldiers was now out of sight farther down the hill, though occasional sounds of activity as they set up camp reached the observers. The four men guarding the entrance were initially alert, but quickly settled into what Eddie knew from experience was an occupational hazard for any soldier: boredom. They were not expecting trouble . . . so neither were they prepared for it.

‘Safe to move?’ Zane asked the Englishman, who nodded. ‘Then let’s go.’

The little group began its cautious descent towards the arch. They were not wearing camouflage gear, but their dark clothing provided adequate concealment in the pervading gloom beneath the trees. Moving as stealthily as they could, they closed on the Nazis below.

They were about fifty feet from the dig when one of the guards turned. Everyone froze, but he looked into the tunnel, not up the hill. After a moment, Schneider emerged. He spoke briefly to the sentries, one of whom went into the shrine to replace him, then headed downhill.

‘I like the odds even better now,’ Eddie whispered to Zane.

‘So do I,’ said the Israeli. He gestured for his comrades to stop, and mimed attaching a silencer to a gun.

Eddie shook his head as the men fitted suppressors. ‘It’s too risky. The shots’ll still be heard.’

‘Not by anyone in the camp. They’re too far away.’

‘Maybe, but what about the bloke in the cave? If he hears the noise and looks outside to see his mates all keeling over dead, then he’ll scream for help – and Kroll and his goons’ll hear
that
.’

‘What do we do, then?’

‘Keep it old-school. You brought knives, didn’t you?’

‘We did.’ A small, grim smile.

Zane issued new orders, then he and two of his men, Arens and Galitz, dropped to their bellies and slithered down the hill. Eddie and the others hung back, silenced weapons ready in case anything went wrong. But the three sentries were oblivious to their approach, two of them chatting off to one side of the opening. The third was farther away, looking longingly towards the encampment.

The latter was the danger, Eddie realised. Despite his clear desire to join the rest of the group, he still occasionally glanced back at the arch. If he caught movement in his peripheral vision, everything would go to hell . . .

Galitz and Arens reached a position ten feet from the pair of guards and stopped, silently rising into crouches. Zane continued towards the third man, going around the other side of the archway to keep himself hidden from the two sentries. Timing was everything; it would be almost impossible to eliminate both men without making some noise, giving him only a couple of seconds to reach the third.

He shifted the hefty combat knife in his hand, the matt-black blade barely more than a shadow. The guard was still gazing downhill. Zane nodded to his comrades. They started across the last few feet to their targets, their leader readying himself to strike the moment they reached them . . .

The lone guard turned his head.

It was just a glance back at the entrance – but it snapped into a double-take as he saw the pair of dark figures descending upon his fellows. He opened his mouth to scream a warning—

Zane was still eight feet away – but his knife crossed the distance in a fraction of a second. It stabbed deep into the sentry’s neck, rupturing his windpipe with a spurt of blood.

The other Mossad operatives darted forward to grab both their targets simultaneously, yanking their heads back and slashing their throats. But the danger wasn’t over. Zane’s victim was still alive, clawed hands pulling at the knife as he staggered in front of the arch. If the man inside saw him . . .

The Israeli ran to drag him back – but heard a startled sound from the entrance. He spun to see both Banna and his guard staring at him.

The Nazi whipped up his gun—

The Egyptian leapt at him, slamming him against the tunnel wall. The Nazi staggered, but retaliated by smashing his weapon against Banna’s stomach.