Authors: Graham Brown
“It’s as if the story took on different forms,” Danielle continued. “The Garden of Hesperides to the Macedonian Greeks. The plant under the water in the Epic of Gilgamesh. The story of Adam and Eve in Genesis.”
“And what’s this place?” Hawker asked. “This building.
I don’t recall Adam and Eve doing any construction work.”
“Like anything, we’re talking about a legend that traveled the known world seven thousand years ago. It might have been written down in a few places like these tablets or the copper scroll, but those types of things were far too valuable to move around.”
“Not to mention heavy,” Sonia said, still digging at the edges of the tablet, trying to pull it loose from the ground.
“Besides,” Danielle added, “at the time, ninety-nine percent of the people wouldn’t have been able to read them anyway.”
“So the story changes,” Hawker said.
“McCarter told me that myths form like that,” she added. “Stories begin as basic truth, but over time concrete things are replaced by the idealistic. Buildings and clothing no longer figure in the narrative because the Garden is no longer a working garden but has become a paradise. The work of men and women to till the land and shape the ground and divert the water is replaced by the power of God.”
“He should really be here,” Hawker said.
Danielle smiled. “He probably should.”
Hawker looked around. Despite being submerged for the last few centuries, the place was empty. It resembled many ruins in the modern world: picked over and barren. For all he knew the smoke and soot were not from the previous age but from Bedouins who might have camped here six months ago. Or before the swamp covered it.
If there had ever been gold or onyx or aromatic spices here, they were long gone. About the only thing that remained were the stones and the carved bricks, like the one Sonia was still struggling with.
He dropped down beside her, grabbed a stone as a
makeshift tool, and began scraping along the sides of the tablet, trying to help dig it out.
“You sure this is the one?” he asked.
“It has the symbol on it,” she replied. “The symbol of the Garden. The symbol of life. The seeds from the tree are inside.”
Hawker put his hand on the surface of the tablet. It wasn’t made of stone; it was a brick of mud and clay. It had been formed by human hands. Just like the scroll said.
Sonia smiled in the dark. Hawker turned and glanced at Danielle, who was also smiling. It felt at long last like a moment of victory.
And then a burst of static came from the scanner on Danielle’s belt.
Hawker’s eyes fell to the scanner. The green LED was fluctuating: Some kind of signal was being picked up, probably blocked by the stone of the building.
Danielle must have realized this, too. She pulled the scanner from her belt and held it to her ear as she moved toward the entrance.
A second wave of static came over the speaker and then words too faint for Hawker to hear.
Danielle heard them, though. She turned back toward him. “We’ve run out of time.”
B
etter get that thing out of the ground,” Danielle said.
As Hawker attacked the hard-packed dirt around the edge of the tablet with his jagged stone, Danielle climbed back to the surface. A glow hugged the horizon to the south, but it wasn’t the moon—that wouldn’t come up for hours.
She climbed to a higher point, up on one of the piles of stone.
Dust, illuminated by the lights of several vehicles, rose in a cloud. She could only guess at the distance, maybe a couple of miles.
She heard another radio transmission and realized the voices were speaking English.
“How did they find us?” Sonia asked. “How could they know where we are?”
“They have the scroll,” Danielle said. “And they must still have Bashir.”
The poor man had never resurfaced, either dead or alive. She guessed they’d kept him around for a reason.
Still, she’d rather deal with their enemies than the Iranian military. And they’d already found what they were looking for. If they could just get it out of the ground and get moving the cult might never know they’d been there.
Hawker reached under the tablet and pried it loose. After pulling it out of the ground he heaved it up on his shoulder, like a boom box of some kind.
“How much time do we have?” he asked.
“Five minutes at best,” Danielle said. “But I don’t think they know we’re here. Otherwise they wouldn’t be charging this way with their lights on.”
“Good,” Hawker said. “Score one for us.”
Danielle moved off, making her way toward the edge of the main platform. Hawker and Sonia followed.
Danielle slid down to the lower level, the level that would have been underwater when this place had been a garden. Hawker came to the edge and slid down beside her, moving awkwardly with the heavy stone. Pausing, he looked over at the pit they would have to cross in a moment and then climb out of.
“This ain’t going to work,” he said.
She had to agree. Getting the forty-pound tablet down into the chasm was one thing, bringing it back up was another.
“Break it,” she said, pointing to one of the large blackened stones on the ground. “Crack it in half.”
As Hawker studied the sharp edge of the blackened stone, Danielle turned to Sonia. “Will it be okay?”
“It should,” Sonia said. “We’ll have to break it sometime anyway. All we really need is what’s inside.”
Danielle aimed her flashlight toward the stone. Sonia did the same.
Hawker raised the tablet up off his shoulder and slammed it down onto the sharp edge. The brick tablet cracked, not only in half, but into three major pieces and a handful of smaller chunks and shards.
Danielle studied the ground, moving the beam of her flashlight around. She had expected golden pods to drop out, like ball bearings or Christmas ornaments or seeds from a pumpkin. But there was nothing of the sort.
She crouched to examine the pieces. Sonia and Hawker did the same. But there was no sign of anything like what they hoped to see. Sonia put her hands on one of the pieces, picking it up and examining it.
From the south they could hear the sound of engines approaching.
“Just grab everything,” Hawker said. “We’ll figure it out later.”
Danielle clipped the flashlight back on her belt and grabbed a piece. She jammed it into the pack with McCarter’s samples and zipped the top shut. Sonia did the same with the piece she’d been studying, and Hawker grabbed the last section.
By the time Danielle looked up, Hawker was already on the move. She followed with Sonia trailing behind. They went down the slope and across the bottom of the pit, chasing after Hawker.
She could hear the approaching vehicles clearly now. There was an odd timbre to the noise, one she couldn’t place. She moved across the dry moat, quickly reaching the edge. Hawker was halfway up the rope already.
She held the end for Sonia. “Go,” she said.
The young woman grabbed the rope without saying a word and started to climb. Whether it was the weight in the pack or thoughts of failure swirling in her mind, Sonia did not move quickly.
Hawker had reached the top and lay flat, looking back down. “Come on,” he whispered sharply.
Sonia began to move a little quicker, finally cresting the edge. Danielle began climbing immediately. Her arms were burning by the time she reached the top. She stepped toward her ATV only to have Hawker pull her to the ground.
He pointed out across the sand. The strange-sounding vehicles had reached the far edge of the moat and were prowling the perimeter.
As they turned off their headlights, Danielle understood why the engines had sounded so odd. The vehicles were sand rails, dune buggies with unmuffled motors. She counted four of them and a foreign-looking offroad vehicle something like a Humvee.
At least eight men had dismounted.
Carrying guns and flashlights of their own, they picked their way toward the edge of the pit. She saw one man step out of the Humvee-like vehicle, but he never strayed from its side.
This man began directing the others, but they moved in a ragged fashion, speaking in loud voices without discipline. It sounded like Farsi at one point and then broken English.
“Locals, just like in Paris,” she said. “These guys hire locals to do their dirty work and then kill them to ice the trail. Those poor bastards think they’re about to get paid.”
“That’s not what they did in Dubai,” Hawker said.
Perhaps not, but it was clear in this case. Danielle guessed that the guy with the radio and whoever else was in that Humvee were members of the cult, directing the show.
Danielle almost felt sorry for the men—except for the fact that they would kill her, Sonia, and Hawker if they got the chance.
“Not our problem,” she said.
She took another look at the sand rails. They looked like fast machines. She remembered racing something similar as a child along a beach in North Carolina. She doubted the ATVs would be able to outrun them.
She glanced toward her four-wheeler.
Hawker nodded. “Quietly.”
She turned to Sonia. “This time you’re with me.”
Sonia looked confused but didn’t question it. To Danielle, the thinking was clear. She was fifty pounds lighter
than Hawker to begin with and he was carrying the heaviest piece of the stone. She and Sonia on one rig would be much faster than Hawker and Sonia had been on the way in.
Hawker smiled.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said.
Still smiling, Hawker pulled his rifle from the scabbard on the side of his ATV. With another glance at the men in the moat, he climbed on.
Danielle did likewise, pulling the straps on her backpack tight.
Without engaging the motor, she walked the ATV back from the edge, turning it through 90 degrees in the process. A necessary act, since they’d foolishly left them pointing toward the precipice upon arrival.
Sonia remained on the ground, staring at the men. Frozen once again.
“Come on, Sonia,” Hawker said. “We need to move.”
“Those are the men who killed my father,” Sonia said, as if mesmerized.
“They might be,” Danielle said. “All the more reason to put them behind us.”
Sonia nodded, then slowly stood, moving toward the back of Danielle’s ride.
As she did her footing gave way, not enough to make her fall, but enough to send a tiny avalanche of rocks and sand tumbling down the edge of the moat.
Click, clack. Crunch
.
The tumbling rocks might as well have been gunshots in the silence of the night.
Flashlights swung their way.
“Not good,” Danielle said.
Shouts followed. They’d been spotted.
Sonia climbed on board and Danielle gunned the throttle, racing past Hawker and out into the night.
As she accelerated down the dry riverbed, she heard gunfire from behind.
The shooting was too close to be the Iranians. Hawker had to be blasting away at them, trying to keep them pinned down.
It would work for a minute, but once the men on the rim started firing back Hawker would have to flee or risk getting caught or killed himself.
Danielle raced on, trusting his judgment.
With Sonia clinging tight, she rounded a curve in the bend of the river and glanced at the GPS. In a half mile she would turn west and cut through the dunes toward the marshland and the waiting airboat.
She hoped Hawker would catch them by then and that they’d be able to lose any pursuit before they reached that point.
As Danielle and Sonia raced away, Hawker cracked off a half-dozen shots from the ArmaLite. He saw one man fall and get up again. The others took cover.
He aimed toward the sand rails and opened up with a hail of shells. Sparks flew from where the vehicles were parked, but before he could land any fatal blows, explosions of dirt began to kick up around him and bullets began to whistle by.
He shuffled backward to the ATV, shoved the rifle back into the scabbard, climbed back on, and gunned the throttle.
In seconds he’d left the shooters well behind him.
He flew along the dry riverbed, traveling at breakneck speed and suddenly realizing a problem. His helmet, and the night-vision goggles attached to it, sat strapped uselessly to the peg behind him.
He had no time to stop and put them on. He squinted
into the wind, trying to navigate by the starlight that spread itself over the desert sand.
Danielle had reached the turnoff. She slowed, looking for the best place to climb up the slope of the bank. Finding a promising spot, she shouted to Sonia.
“Hold on.”
She gunned the throttle again and they raced up and out onto the open desert. A minute later they entered the sand dunes.
Like someone skiing huge moguls or avoiding massive swells at sea, Danielle did the best she could to race around the dunes, sticking to the low points. To speed across the top kicking up a rooster tail was just asking to be seen and then shot.
Lower was safer, even if it meant constant course changes and turns and rechecking the GPS. Trying to do all that and keep the ATV moving at full speed took all Danielle’s attention. She couldn’t risk a glance back to look for Hawker, but Sonia could.
“Do you see Hawker?” she shouted.
Danielle felt Sonia’s weight shift as she turned. She reduced the speed for a moment, to give her a better look.
“No!” Sonia shouted.
A second later something caught Danielle’s eye to the left. She glanced toward it and hoped it was Hawker.
“Damn.”
The sound of an unmuffled engine roared in her ears as lights blazed toward them from the dune above. The sand rails had found them.
H
ang on!” Danielle shouted.
One buggy raced down toward them from the top of the dune. A second followed on a slightly wider track.
Danielle curved away from them, snaking between a group of smaller mounds in the dark. The ATV bounced and skidded. Left, then right, then left again. Suddenly the world filled with light as one of the dune buggies dropped in behind.