Excitedly, Boris patted Lourds on the shoulder. Then he carefully folded the paper. “You are an amazing man, Thomas Lourds. I have always said that.”
“I seem to recall earlier that you weren’t so certain I’d even gotten the first translation right.”
“I’m certain now. Let us go see what we can find.”
Lourds grabbed his backpack and followed Boris back up through the passageways.
In her tent, Professor Layla Teneen stared at her notebook computer screen again and tried to think of how she wanted to compose the e-mail she was going to send. When she’d first been offered the job as liaison for the dig site, she’d been honored — and wary.
Afghanistan still didn’t like women in power. The old way of thinking was to keep the country a man’s world.
For the past seventeen years, since the age of sixteen, Layla had dodged the advances of men. Marriage for her in Afghanistan would have ended her life of independence.
She wasn’t willing to give up her dreams of being her own person. She was thirty-three years old, and most of the girls she had grown up with were already grandparents.
She could be an independent woman, but she would also be a lonely one. Shaking her head, Layla focused on the small LCD screen.
Someone rang the small bell she’d hung from the front of her tent. “Professor Teneen.”
Startled, Layla glanced at the time/date reading on her computer. It was far too late for someone to come calling. Unless something was wrong.
Layla got up from the small folding desk and walked across the tent floor in her sock feet.
“Yes. Who is it?” She answered in Russian, matching the speaker’s language.
“It is Chizkov, ma’am.”
“Chizkov?” Layla recognized the name. She was very good with names. Chizkov was an attaché for Dmitry Dolgov, who seemed in no way to be an archeologist and not very informed about history either. “What do you want at this hour?”
“It is Major Dolgov. He requests that you bring some security personnel.”
Anxiety shot through Layla’s stomach. The Taliban in the area had been very quiet for the past few months. She really thought she might get through her tour this time without seeing them.
And what about Major Dolgov? There had been no mention of a Major Dolgov. Only Professor Dolgov. The man’s papers had been checked and verified.
But it wouldn’t have been the first time someone had gotten into a dig and turned out not to be who he — or she — was supposed to be.
“Did he say why he needed the security people?”
“No. Only that he did. We were following Boris Glukov and Thomas Lourds up to the cave where the professors have been spending their time.”
Followed? Layla picked up her boots and pulled them back on. “Give me a moment, Chizkov.”
“Certainly.”
Layla picked up her satellite phone from her desk and used the speed dial.
A voice answered in Dari. “Yes.”
“Captain Fitrat? This is Director Teneen. I have need of you.”
“I am on my way.”
Before she left her tent, Layla took a flashlight, extra batteries, a first-aid kit, and the Beretta 9mm she kept in her tent for emergencies.
5
They found the third cave on the east readily enough. It was a large room, at least sixty or seventy yards across. Not big enough to get lost in but certainly large enough to stash a house. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and stalagmites stood up from the ground. Several scars that had been smoothed over in the center of the floor showed where other stalagmites had been removed to make room, presumably, for people who had spent the night in the cave.
Boris looked around madly. “I don’t understand. I have been in this cave several times while looking for clues. I never found anything before.”
“Were you looking for a camel before?”
“No.” Boris sounded exasperated. “There is no camel in this room. Not a living one and not a dead one either. Don’t you think I would have noticed a camel?”
“Perhaps a pictograph.” Lourds moved off and began shining his light over the walls. The rough surfaces were clear except for phosphorescent chalk marks on the floor that declared the area as CAVE ROOM #16. The chemicals would easily wash off later, but for the moment, it helped with cataloging everything.
Lourds’s beam froze on two stalagmites against one wall. “Boris, when you think of a camel, what do you imagine?”
“An ugly, ungainly-looking beast with a savage temperament and a stench that absolutely reeks. What do you imagine?”
“Aside from those things, what do you think of when you visualize a camel?”
Something in Lourds’s voice drew his friend around. “Humps, I suppose. Why?”
Lourds waggled his flashlight beam over the two stalagmites he’d spotted. “One hump or two per camel?”
“The stalagmites?”
“Yes.”
“No way.”
“The writer did mention ‘between the camel,’ so maybe we’re not looking for a whole camel.”
Boris flicked his light around the room, but Lourds already knew there wouldn’t be another set of stalagmites that looked the same. These two were rounded on the top, as if the ends had been artificially knocked off and sanded.
As if hardly daring to believe what he might find, Boris closed in on the stalagmites. The light caressed the dark gray-brown color of the stone. Boris halted at the pair and stared at them. “These have to be the camel’s humps the message was referring to.”
“I think so as well.” Lourds stood beside Boris and looked around some more.
“What are we supposed to find?”
“Perhaps whatever was here has already been taken. It has been hundreds of years.”
“No.” Boris stubbornly shook his head. “Whatever the author of that carving had hidden, it wouldn’t be hidden in plain sight. There has to be a trick.” He knelt and began feeling around on the humps.
Lourds knelt beside his friend. “The message said between the humps.”
“Well, there’s the floor.” Boris slammed his fist into the floor a few times experimentally. “But that appears to be solid enough.” He switched his attention to the wall and banged the butt of his flashlight against the stone surface in a few areas.
Some of the flashlight’s thumps sounded hollow.
“Let me see your canteen, please.”
Unslinging the canteen from his shoulder, Lourds passed it over.
Taking his time, Boris poured water along the wall at shoulder height, then watched it run down the stone. As the water ran along the surface, it unveiled a horizontal groove that hadn’t been visible to the naked eye. Two other lines ran vertically on either side of the horizontal line.
“Look.” Boris could scarcely speak.
“I see it.” Lourds’s pulse beat at his temples, and he couldn’t help smiling. This was what he lived for.
Boris stuck out his hand. “Could I borrow your knife?”
Gently inserting the blade into the horizontal gap, Boris pried at the crack, slowly opening it. A whole section of the wall popped out, leaving an opening three feet across and three feet tall.
For a moment, Boris froze. “Me first?”
“It’s your discovery.” Lourds gestured the man forward. “I’ll gladly follow you into the promised land.”
Lourds gestured with the flashlight. “Are you going to go? Or do you want me to take the lead?”