Fowler shoved Andrea out of the way and jumped aside. For a fraction of a second he saw Marla Jackson behind the wheel, her teeth gritted in anger. The huge rear tyre of the Hummer pa.s.sed inches in front of Andrea's face, spraying her with sand.

Before the two of them could get up, the H3 had rounded the curve out of the canyon and disappeared.

'I think there's just us,' the priest said as he helped Andrea to her feet. 'That was Jackson and Dekker leaving like the devil himself was after them. I don't think many of their companions are left.'

'Father, I don't think they're the only things to have disappeared. It looks like your plan to get me out of here has gone up in smoke,' said the reporter, pointing to the three remaining all-purpose vehicles.

All twelve tyres had been slashed.

They walked around the wreckage of the tents for a couple of minutes, looking for water. They found three half-full canteens and a surprise: Andrea's backpack with her hard disk, almost buried in the sand.

'Everything's changed,' Fowler said, looking around suspiciously. He seemed unsure of himself and was creeping about as if an a.s.sa.s.sin on the cliffs might mow them down at any moment.

Andrea followed him, crouched down in fear.

'I can't get you out of here, so stay close until we work something out.'

The BA-609 was turned on its left side like a bird with a broken wing. Fowler entered the cabin and reappeared thirty seconds later holding a few cables.

'Russell won't be able to use the plane to carry the Ark,' he said, throwing the cables far away then jumping back down. He grimaced as his feet hit the sand.

He's still in pain. This is crazy, Andrea thought.

'Do you have any idea where he could be?'

Fowler was about to answer but instead he stopped and went around to the back of the plane. Next to the wheels sat a dull black object. The priest picked it up.

It was his briefcase.

The top cover looked as if it had been sliced open so you could see the s.p.a.ce where the plastic explosives that Fowler had used to blow up the water tank had been. He touched the briefcase in two places and the secret compartment opened.

'It's a shame they ruined the leather. This briefcase has been with me for a long time,' the priest said as he collected the four remaining packages of explosives and another object, which was about the size of a watch face with two metal clasps.

Fowler wrapped the explosives up in the nearest piece of clothing that had been blown out of the tents during the sandstorm.

'Put this in your backpack, OK?'

'No way,' Andrea said, taking a step back. 'Those things scare the h.e.l.l out of me.'

'Without the detonator connected, it's harmless.'

Andrea conceded, reluctantly.

As they headed towards the platform, they saw the bodies of the terrorists who had surrounded Marla Jackson and Dekker before the simoon hit. Andrea's first reaction was to panic, until she realised that they were dead. When they reached the corpses Andrea couldn't help gasping. The bodies were laid out in strange positions. One of them seemed to be trying to get up - one of his arms was in the air, and his eyes were opened wide as if he was looking into h.e.l.l as if he was looking into h.e.l.l, Andrea thought, with an expression of disbelief.

Except that he didn't have any eyes.

The eye sockets of the corpses were all empty, their open mouths were nothing but black holes, and their skin was grey like cardboard. Andrea pulled her camera out of the backpack and took some photos of the mummies.

I can't believe it. It's as if the life was yanked right out of them without any warning. Or as if it's still happening. G.o.d, how horrible!

Andrea turned around and her backpack grazed the head of one of the men. Before her very eyes the man's body suddenly disintegrated, leaving only a mixture of grey dust, clothes and bones.

Feeling nauseous, Andrea turned to the priest. She saw that he didn't suffer from the same scruples when it came to the dead. Fowler had noticed that at least one of the bodies served a more utilitarian purpose, and had pulled out from under it a clean Kalashnikov. He checked the weapon and saw that it was still in good working order. He took some extra clips from the terrorist's clothes and put them in his pockets.

With the muzzle of the rifle he pointed at the platform leading to the cave entrance.

'Russell's up there.'

'How do you know?'

'When he decided to reveal himself, he clearly called his friends,' Fowler said, inclining his head towards the bodies. 'These are the people you spotted when we first arrived. I don't know if there are others or how many there could be, but it's fairly clear that Russell is still around because there are no tracks in the sand leading away from the platform. The simoon has covered everything. If they had come out, we'd be able to see tracks. He's in there and so is the Ark.'

'What are we going to do?'

Fowler thought for a few seconds, his head bowed.

'If I were smart I'd blow up the entrance to the cave and let them starve to death. But I'm afraid there might be others in there. Eichberg, Kayn, David Pappas . . .'

'Then you're going in?'

Fowler nodded. 'Give me the explosives, please.'

'Let me go with you,' Andrea said, handing him the package.

'Ms Otero, you stay out here and wait until I come out. If you see them coming out instead, don't say anything. Just hide. Take some photos if you're able to, and then get out of here and tell the whole world the story.'

93.

INSIDE THE CAVE, FOURTEEN MINUTES EARLIER.

Getting rid of Dekker had been easier than he'd dared imagine. The South African had been taken aback by the fact he'd shot the pilot and had been so anxious to talk to him that he hadn't taken the least precaution as he came into the tunnel. What he found was a bullet that sent him rolling off the platform.

Contracting the Ypsilon protocol behind the old man's back had been a brilliant stroke, thought Russell, congratulating himself.

It had cost almost ten million dollars. Dekker had been suspicious at first, until Russell had agreed to pay him seven figures up front and another seven if he was forced to use the protocol.

Kayn's a.s.sistant smiled with satisfaction. Next week the accountants at Kayn Industries would notice that the money was missing from the pension fund and questions would be raised. By then he'd be far away and the Ark would be in a safe place in Egypt. It would be very simple to lose himself there. And then accursed Israel, which he hated, would have to pay the price for the humiliation they had caused the house of Islam.

Russell walked the length of the tunnel and looked into the cave. Kayn was there, watching with interest as Eichberg and Pappas removed the last rocks that blocked the access to the chamber, alternating between use of the electric drill and their hands. They hadn't heard the shot when he'd fired at Dekker. The moment he knew that the path to the Ark was clear and he no longer needed them, they'd be dispatched.

As for Kayn . . .

No words could describe the torrent of hatred that Russell felt for the old man. It seethed in the depths of his soul, fuelled by the humiliations that Kayn had made him suffer. Being at the old man's side for the past six years had been excruciating, torture.

Hiding in the bathroom to pray, spitting out the alcohol that he was forced to pretend he was drinking so that people wouldn't suspect him. Taking care of the old man's sick and fearful mind at all hours of the day and night. Feigning concern and affection.

It was all lies.

Your best weapon will be taqiyya taqiyya, the deception of the warrior. The jihadist can lie about his faith, he can make believe, pretend, hide and twist the truth. He can do this with an infidel without sinning, the imam had said fifteen years before. And don't believe it will be easy. You will cry each night because of the pain in your heart, to the point that you will not recognise who you are. And don't believe it will be easy. You will cry each night because of the pain in your heart, to the point that you will not recognise who you are.

Now he was himself again.

With all the agility of his young and well-trained body, Russell climbed down the rope without the aid of a harness the same way he had come up it a couple of hours before. His white robe fluttered as he descended, attracting Kayn's attention as he looked at his a.s.sistant in shock.

'What's the meaning of the disguise, Jacob?'

Russell didn't answer. He went towards the cavity. The s.p.a.ce they had opened up was about five feet high and six and a half feet wide.

'It's in there, Mr Russell. We've all seen it,' Eichberg said, so excited that at first he did not notice the way Russell was dressed. 'Hey, what's with the outfit?' he said finally.

'Be quiet and call Pappas.'

'Mr Russell, you should be a little more-'

'Don't make me say it again,' the a.s.sistant said, pulling the pistol out of his clothes.

'David!' Eichberg screeched like a child.

'Jacob!' yelled Kayn.

'Shut up, you old b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

The blood drained out of Kayn's face at the insult. No one ever talked to him like that, much less the person who up to now had been his right hand. He didn't have time to reply, because David Pappas came out of the cave, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

'What the h.e.l.l . . .?'

When he saw the pistol in Russell's hand, he understood immediately. He was the first of the three to understand, although not the one who was most disappointed and shocked. That role belonged to Kayn.

'You!' exclaimed Pappas. 'Now I understand. You had access to the magnetometer's program. You 're the one who changed the data. You killed Stowe.'

'A small error that almost cost me dearly. I thought I had better control of the expedition than I really had,' Russell admitted with a shrug. 'And now a quick question. Are you ready to bring out the Ark?'

'Go f.u.c.k yourself, Russell.'

Without a thought, Russell aimed at Pappas's leg and fired. Pappas's right knee turned into a b.l.o.o.d.y mess and he fell to the ground. His screams echoed off the walls of the tunnel.

'The next bullet is for your head. Now answer me, Pappas.'

'Yes, it's ready to come out, sir. The path is clear,' Eichberg said, his hands up in the air.

'That's all I wanted to know,' Russell replied.

There were two shots in quick succession. His arm moved down and there were two more shots. Eichberg fell on Pappas, both of them shot in the head, their blood now mingling on the stony ground.

'You've killed them, Jacob. You have killed both of them.'

Kayn was cowering in a corner, his face a mask of fear and incomprehension.

'Well, well, old man. For such a mad old b.a.s.t.a.r.d you're fairly good at stating the obvious,' Russell said. He peered into the cave, still aiming the gun at Kayn. When he turned back there was a look of satisfaction on his face. 'So we've finally found it then, Ray? The work of a lifetime. It's a shame yours will be cut short.'

The a.s.sistant walked towards his boss, taking slow measured steps. Kayn shrank back into his corner even more, totally trapped. His face was covered in sweat.

'Why, Jacob?' cried the old man. 'I loved you like my own son.'

'You call that love?' yelled Russell, drawing near to Kayn and striking him several times with the gun, first on the face, then on his arms and across his head. 'I've been your slave, old man. Every time you cried like a girl in the middle of the night, I ran to you, having to remind myself why I was doing it. I had to think of the moment when I'd finally defeat you and you would be at my mercy.'

Kayn dropped to the ground. His face was swollen, almost unrecognisable from the blows. Blood trickled out of his mouth and from his shattered cheekbones.

'Look at me, old man,' Russell went on, lifting Kayn by the front of his shirt so that they were eye to eye.

'Look at the face of your own failure. In a few minutes my men will come down into this cave and remove your precious Ark. We'll give the world the punishment it deserves. Things will be the way they should always have been.'

'Sorry, Mr Russell. I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you.'

The a.s.sistant turned sharply. At the other end of the tunnel Fowler had just lowered himself down on the rope and was aiming a Kalashnikov at him.

94.

THE EXCAVATION.

AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN.

Thursday, 20 July 2006. 2:27 p.m.