The tomb of Solomon and Al-Bayati's lunatic dream of a magic ring.
Rhoades didn't care about a ring. He cared about gold. If the tomb was there, Al-Bayati would never leave it. Rhoades had made up his mind that it was time to move on. As soon as they found the gold he would kill Al-Bayati. Until they found it he needed him alive.
He finished cleaning the pistol, reassembled it and placed it back in the holster. He packed the cleaning kit away as the plane began its descent to the barren desert landscape below and an abandoned military airbase close to the Saudi border. Al-Bayati had no intention of flying into Saana and dealing with the Houthi rebels in control of the city. Ten minutes later they were on the ground. A cluster of vehicles waited on the side of the runway.
The sun beat down on Bayati as he stood on the cracked concrete at the foot of the airplane stairs. He wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief.
"Hot," he said. "I'd forgotten how hot this godforsaken place can be."
"With luck we won't be here long," Rhoades said. "Here comes our escort."
Three Land Rovers painted desert tan pulled up by the plane, followed by two Toyota pickup trucks with Russian Kord heavy machine guns mounted in the beds. A third truck was empty, backup for transporting whatever they might find.
The Kord 12.7 mm was a recent addition to Russian infantry armament, replacing the older NSV that had been the staple weapon for years. It featured a higher rate of fire than the NSV. An alloy barrel that increased accuracy and effectiveness up to about 2000 meters. It wasn't a good idea to be on the wrong end of one of them when it was in use.
Al-Bayati appreciated fine weapons. He looked at Rhoades.
"Kords. I'm impressed. You think we'll need them?"
"There's been a lot of rebel activity around here," Rhoades said. "I thought a little extra firepower wouldn't hurt. The men are all experienced and well armed. No one will bother us if they know what's good for them."
Al-Bayati grunted and heaved his bulk into one of the Land Rovers. Rhoades got into the back seat. He took out his GPS, already programmed with the location of the three pillars.
"We'll use the old crossing," he said to the driver. "The one abandoned by the British. You know the one I mean?"
"I know it. Rough road," the driver said.
His name was Jan Vorster. He was a fourth generation Afrikaner, a grizzled former policeman who'd gotten out of the Republic of South Africa when apartheid crumbled. His talents for violence had turned out to be useful in his new role as mercenary. It paid better, too. Rhoades had met him during an MI6 operation in Darfur. As far as he could tell Vorster was the ideal soldier for hire, a man without bothersome moral considerations or qualms of conscience about what might have to be done.
"Watch out for patrols," Rhoades said.
The six vehicles set out for Saudi Arabia.
CHAPTER 33
On top of the hill it felt like being inside an oven. Rippling waves of heat rose from the rocks and sand. They'd searched for a sign of the tomb and found nothing. Now they were going around the columns once more. Nick had decided that the whole exercise was a waste of time and was ready to concede defeat. Their desert camouflage uniforms were soaked black with sweat. Selena moved with the others around the base of one of the pillars. Suddenly she froze.
"Snake."
Nick looked where she was pointing. The snake was curled up on a flat rock next to the column, within striking distance from where she stood. It was a yellow, sandy color, with a round snout and round cat eyes. Two horns stuck up from its head, giving it a demonic look. It raised its head and looked at her.
"Don't move," Nick said. "That's a horned viper."
He reached for his pistol. Ronnie laid a hand on his arm.
"I'll get it," he said. "Better not to make the noise."
He eased a throwing knife from a sheath strapped under his arm and launched it at the snake. The blade arced through the sunlight and buried itself behind the viper's head. The snake contorted, showing its fangs. Selena backed away.
"Wouldn't be good to get bitten by one of those," Nick said. "It creates serious pain and a lot of damage. We're a long way from medical help for a viper bite."
"Gee, thanks for reminding me."
The snake stopped moving. Ronnie retrieved his knife.
"That was slick," Diego said. "Too bad you had to kill it."
"Selena was too close. It would have struck if she'd moved. Otherwise we could have left it."
Selena stared at the column where the snake had been dozing.
"There's something here."
She pointed at a faint groove in the rock on the edge of a wide, vertical fissure climbing the side of the column. The fissure was hard to see, filled with a thick growth of juniper. There was no way to tell if it went deeper into the column or was simply a wide crack on the surface.
"That mark could be man-made," she said.
"Maybe," Nick said. "What would cause something like that?"
"A rope? I don't know. It just doesn't look natural to me."
"Me neither," Diego said.
They'd passed the spot before and decided it was solid. "We haven't seen anything else," Nick said. "Let's clear away the greenery."
They hacked away at the growth until they could get next to the fissure, then began prying out accumulated dirt and debris. A small opening appeared. A dry, dusty odor drifted out of the blackness.
"I'll be damned," Nick said. "I think we've found it."
The discovery energized them. Another half-hour and they'd cleared away a narrow passage into the column.
Nick turned on his flashlight and aimed it into the dark interior.
"What do you see?" Selena said.
"Someone widened this passage. I can see tool marks on the rock."
"Nothing else?"
"No. We'll have to go inside."
"There could be spiders. More snakes."
"I don't see any webs. Anyway, we don't have a choice. Just watch where you step."
Single file, they followed Nick into the interior. The passage was barely wide enough to let them pass. After a short distance it curved to the right and opened into a large, natural chamber in the center of the rock column. In the middle of the space was an upright stone. Except for the stone, the chamber was empty.
"I don't see any gold," Diego said.
"Or Solomon either," Ronnie said. "Just that stone."
Selena moved her light over the stone. A six pointed star was carved into the hard rock. In the center of the star was something that looked like a flower with eight petals. Within each point of the star was a dot.
"I think that's the seal of Solomon," Selena said
"Then we must be in the right place," Nick said.
"There's something written beneath it." Selena knelt down in front of the stone and aimed her light at it.
"Biblical Aramaic, like the scroll."
"What does it say?"
Selena pursed her lips and stared at the writing. After a few minutes she sighed.
"It's a riddle. Or a clue, take your pick."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll read it to you."
The soul of wisdom shelters with its consort in the queen's land.
"The queen's land? What the hell does that mean?"
"I don't think he's talking about Australia," Ronnie said.
"What's all that about the soul sheltering?" Diego asked.
"Soul isn't exactly the right translation," Selena said. "The ancient Hebrews believed some kind of life went on after you died, in a sort of vague limbo. The life essence of a person. There had to be something left of the body or that was the end of you. Bodies were buried and the bones preserved. Nobody cremated their dead in ancient Israel. That would've been a terrible crime."