UNMOVIC, the UN Monitoring, Verification, and Inspection Commission, had carried out an exhaustive, but ultimately futile effort to determine if the former Iraqi regime had been engaged in the development of biological and chemical weapons. The inspectors had continued looking, right up until the last moment, in hopes of providing something that would either demonstrate beyond possibility of reproach that the so-called WMDs did exist, which would unify the UN member nations in their condemnation of the regime, or prove beyond all doubt that Iraq had ceased development of nerve agents and anthrax spores, and had destroyed their stockpiles. On March 22, the warning to evacuate had been given and the inspectors had locked up their equipment and fled the country, only a few days ahead of the war.
The security system they had employed to protect their vehicles and other gear from theft and possible misuse was a basic electronic combination lock, but the inspection team had taken a further step of jury rigging a series of low-yield improvised explosive devices throughout the facility. Anyone attempting to force the door would activate the charges, destroying most of the inspection equipment and permanently disabling the vehicles. A large warning sign, written in English and Arabic explained most of this, but Kismet doubted that any looters had even tried. After several minutes of explaining the situation, Marie received the disarm code, and the door was safely opened.
Kismet stepped inside cautiously, unsure of what he would find. Although the electrical lock mechanism was still working, its computer powered by a lithium battery, the overhead lights were not operable. He shined the beam of his MagLite into the darkness, revealing two rows of white Land Cruisers, adorned with the globe and olive-branch emblem of the United Nations. The keys to each vehicle depended from the ignition switch. Choosing one from the front row, he removed the security measures then slid behind the wheel.
The starter cycled repeatedly for several seconds as the gasoline was gradually drawn through a fuel line that had sat dry for nearly two months. Despite the momentary lag, Kismet was encouraged by the fact that the battery still held enough charge to fire the spark plugs, and after churning for half a minute, the fuel-air mixture ignited and the engine roared to life. He flashed a thumbs-up to his companions, then eased the vehicle through the open roll-up door.
“Maybe our luck is changing,” he remarked, rejoining the group as the Land Cruiser continued idling.
“Nick, there’s something I want to show you.” Chiron led him back into the building, past the vehicles to an area where several pieces of equipment were stored on pallets. “Do you know what that is?”
The object to which Chiron directed his attention was a nondescript metal box, attached by wires to an electronic control unit. The box was labeled: ZOND 12 1.5 GHz.
Kismet raised an eyebrow. “Pierre, you sneaky devil. You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”
“What is it?” inquired Marie, stepping out from the shadows.
“It’s a ground-penetrating radar system.”
“The UNMOVIC inspectors use it to look for entrances to buried bunkers and the like,” Chiron explained, supplementing Kismet’s simple declaration. “It can penetrate to depths of up to thirty meters, revealing buried objects, cavities, and even soil density changes.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it can tell you when someone has dug a hole then filled it in again.” Kismet grinned triumphantly. “This is the magnet that is going to help us find a needle in a haystack.”
Eight
They were greeted at dawn by a glorious sunrise over Babylon. Their arrival the previous night had been in the waning minutes of daylight, depriving them of a chance to fully appreciate the scope of the ancient city. Drawn as they were to the only source of artificial light, emanating from the magnificent neo-Babylonian palace a short distance from the rebuilt city walls, they had eyes for little else after the brief but nonetheless arduous journey from Baghdad.
They had been spared any hostile encounters on the road, but the absence of trouble did not ease their anxiety. Every bend in the road might have concealed a party of armed paramilitary fighters or highway bandits, and there was absolutely no predicting where land mines might buried or if even simpler measures, like nearly invisible wires strung across the road to disable their vehicle, might have been employed. Thankfully, the road from Baghdad through Al Hillah was part of a supply line, regularly patrolled by friendly forces, and despite the constant tension, the journey was without incident.
A contingent of US Marines occupied the palace, which despite its resemblance to a massive ziggurat temple was the product of modern workmanship. Unable to resist the urge to step into the shoes of the ancient Babylonian emperor Nebuchadnezzar, whose Hanging Gardens had been one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, Saddam Hussein had devoted massive amounts of money and man hours to rebuilding sections of the ruined city and erecting a palace to rival that of his historic predecessor. And like so many of the grandiose residences the deposed dictator had constructed during his quarter-century in power, it was rumored that he had never actually set foot in the complex.
The Marines greeted them cautiously, but it was evident that word of Kismet’s recent misadventures had not reached them. They were permitted to set up temporary lodging with their vehicle just inside the walled compound, safe in the knowledge that armed sentries would be walking the perimeter throughout the night. Chiron woke first, gently rousing the others as the first gleams of light appeared on the horizon, backlighting the object of their quest.
The rebuilding of Babylon, commissioned in 1982, had been a controversial topic among archaeologists and historians, chiefly because the supreme architect of the project, Saddam himself, elected to build on top of the buried ruins. Newly baked clay bricks were laid on the ancient foundations — in some cases, there was a visible line of demarcation where the older, darker bricks ended and their modern counterparts began — in keeping with the city map as established by Greek and Roman chroniclers who had witnessed the gradual decline of the city. Yet while a great deal of effort had gone into accuracy, there could be no doubting that the reproductions had covered over many centuries worth of buried relics, which if further excavated might have shed still more light on the civilizations which had occupied the region between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers.
The modern palace was easily within walking distance of the old city, but Kismet and the others got back into their Land Cruiser and made the short drive to a stunning reproduction of the Ishtar Gate at the north entrance to the city. The actual arched entryway, dedicated to the fertility goddess who appeared in nearly every polytheistic culture, currently resided in a museum in Berlin, but in keeping with the pattern of resurrected splendor, the copy probably conveyed a more accurate impression of the sight that would have greeted a visitor to the city, or perhaps one of Nebuchadnezzar’s conquered slaves.
A large map of the city had been posted on the gate, written, curiously enough, in English. Kismet joined the others in staring at the ground plan, and gently took Chiron aside. “So where do we start looking?”
“I’m not really sure,” confessed the Frenchman. He gestured to the rebuilt walls. “I was not prepared for all of this.”
“There’s still an ancient city hidden here. Samir Al-Azir told me that the treasures of Solomon’s temple were concealed beneath the Temple of Marduk. I don’t imagine even Saddam would risk the wrath of the global Muslim community by rebuilding a temple to a false god, so that’s one site that is probably not covered over.” He glanced at the map. The ziggurat of Marduk, chief god of ancient Babylon, had been situated at the southern end of the city, near what had at one time been a bridge over the Euphrates and the western entrance. “I hope you brought your walking shoes.”