Devil's Eye (44 page)

“
We came upon some information,” Caine generalized. “We would appreciate your perspective. We have a helicopter at our disposal.”

“
You mean, now?” Hammad asked dubiously. “I told you during your last adventure here, I avoid going into the desert at night.”

“
We’ll be flying, not trekking. Besides, Colonel Mahmoud gave us little time.”

Hammad turned to Aida who had a determined look, while his two companions were expressionless. He could not lose face. “Your General Bradley is getting deeper into my debt,” Hammad declared with resignation.

The American officers led them to the waiting Mi 8 where the pilot and three Egyptian soldiers were already inside. After silent nods of introduction the party settled into bench seats along the bulkhead of the cargo area. Soon the helicopter was heading towards the coordinates locating the monastery on the mountain.

A bright moon illuminated the desert with a bluish sheen that outlined the darker profiles of the mountains ahead.

“
What are you proposing to do?” Hammad asked Colonel Caine who was sitting next to him.

“
We fly in for a visit,” Caine said tentatively, hoping the practiced militiaman would offer any concrete alternative.

Mustafa Ali Hammad nodded his head in thought. “And what do you take this place to be?” he finally asked.

“
It’s supposed to be a monastery or some hostel for traveling nomads,” Caine responded, but not convinced himself. “That’s what Colonel Mahmoud concluded.”

“
I see.”

“
He didn’t seem too curious about the place,” Major Michael Lee interspersed from a bench on the opposite bulkhead.

Colonel Garrison Jones next to him was looking with playful eyes across to Aida who sat next to her cousin with a reserved expression on her face. Her raven hair tied into a bun added to her determined demeanor.

“
Live and let live,” Hammad responded. “These desolate areas are ruled by clans and have their own boundaries. Maybe your Egyptian Colonel is looking the other way in an area where there is no central authority. To admit knowing about it means you have to care about it.”

“
That’s precisely the kind of area that breeds trouble,” Caine declared.

Hammad’s expression indicated agreement.

Almost an hour later the helicopter arrived at the coordinates and flew just above the deep canyon leading to the edifice. The dark walls of the canyon were outlined starkly against the moon
‐
bathed blue of the night and seemed like a pathway of approach.

As the helicopter neared the center of the fortress high above the courtyard a beam of amber light suddenly shot skyward.

“
Veer off! Veer off!” shouted Hammad in Arabic.

The apprehensive Egyptian pilot eagerly complied, banking the large helicopter upward and sharply to his left. The momentum pressed the passengers on one side into the bulkhead behind them, and pulled those on the other onto their safety belts. Aida’s belt was not fully secure and she tumbled directly across the cargo floor into a startled Colonel Jones’ embrace. He held her tightly until the pilot leveled the craft while heading it around a crest behind the monastery.

Colonel Jones and Aida fixed their eyes on each other, then he gently eased her onto the bench next to him. She did not resist when he helped her latch into another safety harness.

“
What was that?” Major Lee was exclaiming.

Colonel Caine looked knowingly at Mustafa Ali Hammad. “Yeah! What was it?”

“
We have to land out of sight,” Hammad declared.

“
Tell the pilot!” Caine directed and Hammad repeated the command in Arabic.

With everyone straining to see, the pilot steered around the mountain behind the abbey. He saw a ridge outlined by the light of the moon on the blind side of the redoubt. Faintly visible pinpricks of light from several places along the ridge contrasted sharply with the night. A narrow flat outcrop extended from the ridge. On the other side, unseen, was the fortress. The outcrop seemed hewn by hand and was likely a material staging area during ancient construction of the monastery.

“
Find somewhere behind the canyon!” Colonel Caine ordered. His words were simultaneously repeated by Hammad and Colonel Jones in Arabic.

“
I speak English!” the pilot said huffily. “Don’t confuse me at a time like this! Too many chiefs!”

He cleared the canyon and looked for level ground beyond. Several miles farther he spotted a sandy alcove and gingerly settled the helicopter down.

“
Strange light piercing the sky!” Hammad said tensely “The stories speak of it, but no one could ever find it! People have disappeared here!”

“
So, we can’t knock on the door as weary travelers?” Colonel Jones said with grim humor.

“
We have to see what’s going on,” Colonel Caine said, remembering the words etched in the bulkhead of the downed helicopter.

“
I agree,” Mustafa Ali Hammad declared to the surprise of the American officers.

They looked expectantly at the wiry militia leader.

“
This is beyond mercenary services. This could be the source. The source of our troubles. We could end them.”

“
I take it you know how,” Caine offered, looking at the bleak mountain canyon in the distance. “The place is a fortress.”

“
All of them were. The walls and buildings were above ground. But they had elaborate underground tunnels and caves. For protection, for escape—from the heat, as much as from enemies—and for secure water supplies from underground streams.”

“
That’s helpful,” Caine said sarcastically.

“
Those points of light on the ridge—they are likely air holes,” Hammad said. “There is activity in chambers underground.”

“
Accesible?” Colonel Jones wondered.

“
They were excavated by hand, so there have to be footholds,” Hammad continued. “The problem is they are too high and rugged for swift climbing and a helicopter drop would give us away.”

Colonel Caine pondered awhile and looked to his partner. Colonel Jones knew what he was thinking. “This helicopter was requisitioned from the joint maneuvers,” he said. “It should have contingency equipment.”

“
It should,” Caine answered.

They retreated to the back of the cargo area. Minutes later they emerged with two parachute packs. “This might do it,” Colonel Caine said. “We parachute to the outcrop—check out the air shafts—head down the ridge and meet you at the helicopter.”

“
That way there’s minimal risk,” Colonel Jones explained. “Everyone wait out of sight with the helicopter until we come back.”

“
I want to see what’s there myself,” Mustafa Ali Hammad declared. “I hope we didn’t fly from Beirut on a moment’s notice for nothing. Besides, gentlemen”—he looked to Caine and Jones—“who else gives credence to your unusual theories?”

“
Did you ever use a parachute?” Caine replied.

“
No. But I have seen tandem jumps with parachutes. It seems like a sport.”

“
You’ve been very helpful to us,” Caine conceded. “I suppose we can’t refuse.”

“
Besides, you know the architecture,” Colonel Jones added. “That could come in handy.”

“
I will go with my cousin!” Aida declared defiantly.

“
We
are
playing this by ear,” Jones said with a smile to his fellow officer.

“
All right, all right,” Caine replied impatiently. Then with a drawl he murmured: “Now who would you want to be strapped to?”

At a signal from Major Michael Lee the pilot started the turbo engines and lifted the helicopter into the night sky. They flew high above the mountain ridges until they arrived at the proximity of the monastery. With attentive pointing from several of the passengers he spotted several pricks of light on the mountain ridge behind the fortress.

“
Stay about here,” Colonel Caine ordered as he fastened a harness around Mustafa Ali Hammad, then attached it to the front of his own harness and parachute pack. Major Lee then slipped one of the backpacks onto Hammad’s outstretched arms like an accordion. Colonel Jones was strapping the harness onto Aida, who wasn’t sure if the repetitive adjustments to the crisscross belts were necessary. But she said nothing, aware that her safety harness along the bench had let loose earlier.

One of the Egyptian soldiers pushed open a cargo door, assisted by one of Hammad’s gunmen. They were flying at three
‐
thousand feet, which gave Caine and Jones enough time to open the chutes and maneuver towards the dots of light, where they would land on the flat outcrop behind the mountain of the monastery.

“
Land on the other side of the canyon!” Caine shouted above the wind rushing into the helicopter. “We’ll rappel down and join you as soon as we can! Before daybreak!”

Several of the others nodded.

“
Okay, let’s walk in tandem,” Caine said to Mustafa Ali Hammad as he clipped the release cord of his main parachute onto a hook. He took a few waddle
‐
like steps with Hammad secured in front and jumped into the night.

Colonel Jones clipped his release cord onto the hook, then lifted a surprised Aida off the deck, carried her to the edge and jumped out holding her.

“
Yell, Geronimo!” he shouted in her ear.

Seconds later he released his hold on Aida, who shivered as she dropped several inches to the limits of her tandem harness. Both Caine and Jones intently worked the cords of their parachutes to maneuver them towards the pinpricks of light below.

Meanwhile the helicopter dropped to the visible outlines of the mountainous crags around them and slowly worked its way to a landing spot on the outside of the horseshoe canyon which would block its view from the monastery and its sound from unwelcome ears.

Caine and Hammad landed first. They both tumbled forward and found themselves on the edge of the outcrop nearest the lights. As Caine was unstrapping them Jones and Aida landed almost on top of them, tumbling forward toward the craggy wall of the mountain.

“
Normally, I land on my feet,” Jones said breathlessly and began to undue the straps of their parachute rig. The four gathered the parachutes into bundles and shoved them behind some large rocks at the face of the crag.

The mountain had looked sheer from afar. As they studied its walls, they saw that the slope was craggy and rock strewn, but climbable. They carefully worked their way toward the source of the lights, here and there climbing along what seemed like ancient narrow footpaths winding erratically upward.

When they reached the nearest opening they lay prone around it and strained to see deep inside. The only thing visible was the angled shaft dimly lit from below. A characteristically musty smell emanated from beneath, mingled with a hint of smoke and a sulfurous odor. The four wordlessly looked at each other with curiosity and wonderment.

Caine rose, pointed to the backpack and Jones hurriedly pulled out a length of cord to which was attached a mechanized grappling hook. Caine tied the end of the cord into a bowline knot around his waist while Jones pushed a button on the metal shaft at the other end and four sharp hooks sprung out like spider legs.

“
Just in case,” Caine murmured.

Colonel Jones placed the grappling hook around a nearby rock. Caine groped around inside the edges of the shaft and found notches in the sides. He looked up at Hammad.

“
Those are footholds,” Hammad whispered. “When they were chiseling out the air shafts.”

Caine nodded and lowered himself feet first into the shaft. He worked his way slowly down the steeply sloped shaft, feeling with each foot the next step down, while grasping each notch he passed.

Jones, Hammad and Aida huddled around the opening and followed Caine’s every calculated move. Caine felt the notches at regular intervals, but he worked his way in slow motion to avoid disturbing loose gravel or dislodge stones that might betray his presence. Soon he was out of sight and the light from below was blocked by his downward progress.