The Spear of Destiny (30 page)

  “Now Jim if you could help me to learn the layout of this place. Intel is a little sketchy on such an unimportant site.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you remember.”

  “I haven’t been up there since the 70’s. I think it became something of a tourist attraction.”

  “Not any more. Since Hamas took control tourism has been almost at zero. The only people up here are religious pilgrims. According to my people nobody has been up here in years, decades even.”

  “If there is anyone up there these maniacs would have killed them already.”

  “That’s a possibility. Just be prepared that when we get in there, there may be casualties already and it may not be pretty.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dennis answered for them, “We’re getting used to Von Werner’s methods. We’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

  “If I can remember the site exactly,” Hutchinson put in “And it’s been almost forty years, but the whole site sits in a large depression in the mountains but also on its own large plateau. A bit like Macchu Pichhu in Peru.”

  On the tough book screen was a slowly, spinning, cut away computer image of the site.

  “These are the remains of a crusader castle built on top of one of Herod’s lesser palaces, a palace that is relatively unknown.”

  “Relatively unknown?” Angus said, “It’s supposed to be the final resting place of Jesus christ.”

  “That’s never been proved,” Hutchinson said, “Never been discovered. There are over forty tombs in ancient Jerusalem along with the inscriptions for Jesus on them. The thing is Jesus Christ and his family were poor. They would not and could not have afforded to bury him in Jerusalem.”

  “So are you telling us that you believe the tomb up here is the real one?” Dennis said.

  “Like I said the tomb up here has the inscription for Jesus on it but it’s never been proved. The templars who occupied this region opened it centuries ago and removed the contents or destroyed them. I have to tell you though that Jesus was then, as it still is, a very popular name.”

  “Sorry to break up the history lesson. As interesting as it surely is,” Tosh said, “But I need to know what the layout is.”

  “Of the crusader castle there are only walls left. Centuries of earthquakes reduced it all to rubble. Most of  Herod’s palace is below the current land level. What the locals haven’t stolen or should I say ‘recycled’ is now buried.”

  “So where is this tomb located?” Tosh asked.

  “In the subterranean levels. The entrances to the subterranean levels are here, here, here, here and here. The tomb is here,” Hutchinson pointed to the location on the map. “These four entrances here are flooded by an underground river at this time of year. That is they used to be. The course of the river may have changed over the decades, if it still runs that is. The entrances are three levels down. The last remaining entrance leads into a very narrow pass that men have to squeeze through. This point here ends in a deep shaft thought to be a well that the Templars either discovered or dug themselves. It is fed either by the river or an underground spring. They were just starting to investigate it when I finished working there all those years ago. I would imagine that nothing of importance in this site has ever been discovered.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because as an archaeologist I am sure I would have heard of it if it had.”

The red dot on the tough book was very close now.

  “It’s just ahead. We’ll ditch the vehicles in the next half a mile,” Tosh said, “From there we’ll be on foot.”

  They parked the vehicles off the main road and out of sight and climbed an old track that led up into the Hebron mountains. Tosh kept the pace steady enough for Hutchinson, who was twice the age of most of them, to be able to keep up.

  “It’s probably been decades since anyone climbed this,” Natalie said looking at the scrub growing on the path.

  “Maybe centuries,” Dennis said, “Von Werner’s people didn’t come this way.”

  Tosh, at their head, suddenly stopped. The red dot on the tough book was just ahead.

  “Just over this next rise.”

Tosh motioned for everyone to get down, then he his men and Dennis crawled forward to the top of the ridge. They could all see the Hercules was parked on a long flat piece of desert near the ruins. Tosh put the tough book aside and raised his binoculars to his head. He saw two of Von Werner’s men looking at something that they were holding close then he saw one of them drop whatever it was and stamp on it. The other one crushed it with his heel. Tosh looked at the tough book screen just as ‘signal lost’ flashed up.

  “They’ve discovered the tracker.”

Tosh continued to watch as one of them tapped the comms head set by his ear. He tried again then shook his head and waved his arms at his companion.

  “They’ve got comms but it looks like he’s not getting an answer. Now’s our chance. Deano, Smithy, you’re up. Get down there. Get yourselves into position. Angus will take out the two guards once you’re ready. Secure the pilots, we need them alive. ”

  Deano and Smithy moved down the hillside keeping in cover as much as they could. They used the unloaded Hercules cargo as cover and moved into position. The two guards hadn’t seen them.

  Up on the hillside Angus had set up an L96 sniper rifle, favourite of the SAS. He screwed on the supressor and adjusted the sights.

  “Hold,” Tosh said into his headset at the two men on the ground, “Angus take the shots.”

  Angus took the first of the guards out with a head shot. The other man gaped in astonishment at the suddeness of the killing then his brains too, splattered the earth.

  “Both targets down,” Tosh said, “No more targets. Secure the Herc.”

Tosh watched as his men subdued the two pilots and zip tied their wrists and forced them to sit.

  “Plane secured,” Smithy said into his headset.

  “Hold your ground,” Tosh said, to the others he said, “Let’s move.”

They entered the ruins and moved slowly, using the walls as cover. Tosh and Angus leading, Natalie, Hutchinson and Dennis in the middle, Tommo and Richie bringing up the rear. They encountered a sentry and Tosh gave the signal for them to stop. He put his C8 assault rifle on his back and drew out his large hunting knife and advanced on the man slowly and silently. He grabbed the man from behind, clamping his hand over the mouth and plunged the knife into the man’s neck, and pulled it free. He heard the hiss of air and knew the windpipe had been severed along with the main artery. The man would be dead in seconds. Tosh let the body to the ground gently, then crouching over it while looking around for other signs of activity he slit the throat. The man twitched in his death throes and then fell still. Natalie averted her eyes as she passed the brutal killing. She knew if she looked she would probably be sick. She stepped around the growing pool of blood and pushed on following those in front.

  They continued on and then down steps that had been cut out of the very rock. They passed through huge iron barred gates, installed years before to keep intruders out. There was a large rusting metal sign in Arabic and English explaining that it was forbidden to go beyond this point. The gates had been closed and locked with a large rusty chain and padlock which now lay on the ground, kicked into a corner.

  Lights were mounted on the walls which gave off just enough to see where you were going but little else. Ahead the passage appeared dark.

  They continued down getting deeper and deeper, the air smelling fetid and dank. Their way was now also lit by portable halogen floodlights presumably placed by Von Werner’s men. Somewhere there would be a generator as cables snaked away into the darkness.

  It was getting darker now and the SAS men turned the lights on their guns to see in the dark. Then the ground levelled out and they found themselves in a large pillared chamber. Dennis and Hutchinson flicked on their flashlights  and moved the beams around the chamber.

  “Archaeologists believe that this was once Herod’s armoury,” Hutchinson said.

  “It’s pretty big,” Dennis replied.

  “Roughly one acre,” the American said.

  “Impressive. It’s cut out of the solid rock, even these pillars,” then the beam of Dennis’ torch caught something on the wall and he went over to investigate.

  “What is it Pete?”

Hutchinson had joined him, Tosh standing just behind. Dennis shone his torch up. Gouged into and around the corner were deep scratches in the hewn rock. There were four of them. Dennis put his fingertips into them and was surprised to see that they were as deep as his entire fingernails.

  “What the hell caused them?” Hutchinson asked.

  “Uh Sir. You might want to take a look at this,” Tommo said crouching over a body.

Tosh went over to the body. It was dry and emaciated and had been dead for many years. The eyes were gone, now just dried sunken holes in a face that was parched. The skin was so tight that the cheek bones were protruding through it. The teeth were mildewed. The throat had been ripped out. The body was twisted and deformed as if it had been broken before death. The only other flesh exposed were the hands and the skin was so tight and dry they were almost skeletal. Dennis bent down next to the body and patted dust away from the jacket. There was an embroidered patch on the left breast. The uniform was dark blue, the lettering gold.

  “I guess he was the security guard,” the journalist said.

  “What the hell happened to him?”

Hutchinson touched the hand which began to crumble.

  “I don’t know. A wild animal perhaps.”

  “A wild animal? What is there out here that could do that to a man.”

  “No idea. But I hope it’s long gone.”

  “How long do you think he’s been here?” Natalie asked, “He looks like he’s self mummified.”

  “That self mummification,” Hutchinson replied, “Is due to the dry air down here. No moisture preserves bodies. He’s been here for years, twenty, thirty. Who knows. You saw how rusty that chain at the gates was.”

  Dennis moved his torch.

  “Look. There are more of those scratches here. On the floor and this pillar.”

They followed them with the torchlight. The walls and floor were scarred with them.

  “All that was done by just one animal?” Natalie asked, her fear evident.

Tosh moved closer to them.

  “We need to move.”

They left the armoury and descended deeper into the caverns. It became colder the further they went. Then Dennis said,

  “What’s that?”

  “Running water,” Hutchinson answered with a smile, “It runs right through these mountains. It’s never been explored so we don’t know the extent of it.”

  Suddenly there was a distant rumbling and the whole cavern shook.

  “What the bloody hell was that?” Hutchinson was looking up at the cavern’s ceiling.

  “Earthquake?”

  “No,” Tosh replied, “it sounded more like an explosion.”

  “An explosion. Down here?”

  “Come on. Let’s move.”

Further on, the passage became very narrow and they had to squeeze through the gap in the rock in single file. Incredibly there appeared to be light ahead, daylight. Another explosion rocked the cavern. Then the gap widened out again. Hutchinson went to the edge of a deep crevice.

  “This drops down….”

He didn’t get to finish what he wanted to say as another louder explosion rocked them again and Hutchinson had to cling to the wall. Dennis grabbed him to stop him going over the edge and the American’s torch slipped from his grasp and fell into the crevice.

  “You alright?”

  “Yes. Thanks,” Hutchinson replied, “Lost my bloody torch though.”

They looked over the edge for it. It was falling fast into the darkness, lighting up the wall as it fell. Just as the torch disappeared from view it lit something up. Something that was white and moved. It happened so fast they were unable to see what it was but Dennis felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Whatever it was he was sure it had looked up at him. Hutchinson had seen it too.

  “Pete! What the fuck was that?”

Dennis shook his head.

  “Don’t know,” he flashed his own torch down there into the dark and listened. There were no sounds, no movement, nothing.

  “It was nothing. Just the light playing tricks on us.”

  “If you two have finished playing pat-a-cake,” Tosh said, “We really need to get moving.”

  The muzzle of a gun jammed into the SAS captain’s neck. The sound of many guns being cocked filled the cavern.

  “Drop your weapons,” a Russian voice ordered in English.

  “Shit.”

  “Hands up.”                        

They were outnumbered two to one.                                                                        

                                          CHAPTER NINETEEN

Poked and prodded at gunpoint the team were pushed forward into a large chamber that opened out. Daylight fell in a wide beam from high up in the ceiling. Ropes trailed down from it as men abseiled back down to the ground below. The daylight fell onto a huge stone sarcophagus in the centre of the floor. At the edge of the cavern water trickled and ran off into another deep crevice.

  Count Otto Brest Von Verner, still terribly scarred, paced around the stone tomb rubbing at it here and there with his hands clearing away years of dust and cobwebs.

  “Ah! There you are,” he shouted, stopping his pacing and beaming a smile at the group, “So good of you to join us,” he continued, his manner seeming genuinely friendly.

  “Those explosions were you weren’t they?” Dennis asked, as Von Werner’s men stripped he and his group of all weapons and equipment including their phones.

  “It was necessary to blow a hole in the ceiling to allow the extraction of this,” he gestured with his hands, “The final resting place of our saviour, the lord Jesus Christ. In a few minutes I have a helicopter coming which will winch this, the greatest treasure in history, to safety. But first there is something I must do….”