Six Sacred Stones - Part 32
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Part 32

The slab beneath him:the thought of it made him sick, picturing all the previously crucified Ethiopian men lying immediately below him, crushed between dozens of piled up slabs.

"Goodbye, Huntsman," Wolf intoned, as the slab cut him off from Jack's view. "You really were a good soldier, a true talent. Believe me when I say that it's a terrible shame.

We could have fought together and we would have been unbeatable. But now, because of the choices you've made, like the spider of your namesake, you must be crushed. Good bye, my son."

The slab came fully across the pit, and as Jack shouted, "No!" the team of Ethiopian draggers withdrew the wooden rollers holding it poised above the pit and suddenly the great slab fell, fell a full twenty feet-down into the pit, its hard edges skimming against the pit's walls, down toward Jack West Jr.-before it hit the bottom with a shockingboom that echoed throughout the mine.

WOLF GAZED down at the stone slab that had just crushed his son to death. The slab had landed askew, as it did when it landed on a human body. Over the coming days it would slowly sink down farther on Jack West Jr.'s body, flattening it.

Then with a shrug Wolf turned on his heel and walked toward the gantry elevator that led out of the mine. Mao, Rapier, and Switchblade followed.

Astro, however, did not.

He wobbled on his feet, drugged and dazed, held up by two Ethiopians who had been out of Jack's sight.

"Father," Rapier said, indicating Astro. "What do we do about him?"

Wolf stopped, gazed at Astro for a moment. "A futile gesture from our enemies back in the US-a pitiful play from a weakwilled Administration that has thrown its lot in with these pathetic small nations. But there can be no evidence we killed American servicemen. Take him with us. When he recovers his senses, he gets a choice: he either joins us or he dies."

"What about the other two?" Switchblade said softly. "The Israeli sniper and Anzar al Abbas's fat second son."

Wolf paused a moment. "The Israeli is still upstairs?"

"Yes."

"There is a considerable bounty on his head. Sixteen million dollars. The Mossad put it up after he refused to obey their orders at the Hanging Gardens. His fate is sealed: we return him to the Old Master and claim the reward. Sixteen million dollars is sixteen million dollars. Then that vengeful old b.a.s.t.a.r.d Muniz and the Mossad can torture him for as long as they like."

"And Abbas's second son?"

Wolf looked back out over the grim mine complex.

On the other side of the vast s.p.a.ce, against the far wall, hung a small medieval cage, suspended above a wide pool of simmering liquid.

Imprisoned inside this cage, hanging ten feet above the dark pool, was Pooh Bear.

He was dirty, bloodied, and bruised from his tumble along the highway in Egypt, but alive. His hands were spread wide, held by manacles that were themselves attached to the bars of the cage.

The liquid in the pool beneath him was a mix of water and a.r.s.enic. While this wasn't technically a gold mine, occasionally the miners found traces of gold in the walls and they used the a.r.s.enicinfused liquid to separate it from the earth. They also used it to punish anyone caught hiding gold on his body-thieves would be lowered, inside the cage, into the pool where they would drown in the thick black liquid.

To the guards' great surprise, Wolf and his people didn't seem to care for the gold that was found and they happily allowed the guards to keep any that was unearthed by the slave miners.

No, Wolf and his minions cared for something else, something that according to an ancient legend lay buried somewhere within the towerlike stone structures that bounded the walls of the mysterious subterranean complex.

Wolf gazed at the pathetic figure of Pooh Bear, dangling in his cage above the deadly pool.

"Let the guards sacrifice him to their G.o.d. He is of no use to anyone anymore."

And with those words, Wolf left.

He came to the gantry elevator, where he was met by two figures standing in the shadows there.

One of them stepped forward.

It was Vulture.

"American," he said slyly to Wolf. "My government grows impatient. You arrived at Abu Simbel too late and the Pillar got away. You knew our bargain: we get the First Pillar- with its reward-and you get the second one."

"I know the bargain, Saudi," Wolf said. "You will get the First Pillar, but not before we have our hands on the Second. I know you, Vulture. I also know your methods: you've been known to abandon your allies when your ends have been achieved but not theirs.

And I want to know for sure that I have your allegiance for the entirety of this mission.

The First Pillar is not in our possession right now-Max Epper has it-but it is easily acquired. It's the Second that poses a more immediate problem."

"Why?" Vulture said.

"Captain West's plane was last seen heading south into Africa. They're going for the Second Pillar, among the Neetha tribe in central Africa. But the Neetha are elusive."

Vulture said, "Epper thinks he can locate them."

"So if we find him, we find the Neetha and their Pillar. This should suit the House of Saud, Vulture, for when we catch up with Epper, we get your Pillar. This is why you're going to help me now: call your government and get them to open their treasury and offer every African nation between Sudan and South Africa whatever it costs to hire their army and cover every road, river, and border in central Africa. With Huntsman dead and Wizard on the run, it shouldn't be hard to find him. It's time to shut them down."

Wolf then stepped into the gantry elevator and accompanied by Mao, Rapier, and Switchblade, whizzed up the side of the mine, leaving Vulture and his companion there.

He exited the complex at ground level via an earthen doorway two hundred feet above the floor of the great cave.

As they strode out of the mine, Switchblade whispered to Wolf, "Will the knowledge of Epper be enough to find the Neetha?"

Wolf kept walking. "Max Epper is the world's leading authority in this field, and his conclusions thus far have matched our own. Should he stumble or die, it will be of little concern, we have our own studies to fall back on. Plus we have our own expert on these matters to aid us."

Wolf stepped out into daylight-pa.s.sing several more Ethiopian guards on the way-to behold, seated and smiling in the back of his car, Miss Iolanthe ComptonJones, Keeper of the Royal Personal Records of the United Kingdom, last seen unconscious on the docks at Abu Simbel.

VULTURE and his companion remained at the base of the gantry elevator on the floor of the mine. Vulture's companion had requested a few additional moments here before they left.

The two of them strode across the mine floor and stopped before the lone cage suspended above the pool of a.r.s.enic.

Pooh Bear stood in the tiny medieval cage with his hands manacled, looking like a captured animal.

From his cage, he had not been able to see Vulture and his companion talking with Wolf at the elevator-so when he suddenly saw them approaching now, he mistook their presence for a rescue.

"Brother!" he cried.

Vulture's companion-Scimitar, Pooh's older brother-gazed up at Pooh Bear impa.s.sively.

Pooh Bear shook his bars. "Brother, quickly, set me free! Before they return-"

"They will not be returning," Scimitar said. "Not for some time anyway. Not until this mine yields its secret."

Pooh Bear froze, stopped shaking his bars.

"Brother, are you not here to release me?"

"I am not."

Scimitar strolled over to the pit in which West had been killed, idly looked down into it, saw the great slab that had crushed Jack West.

He walked back over to the a.r.s.enic pool. "Brother, you have always had a fatal flaw. You ally yourself with the weak. Even as a schoolboy in the playground you defended the scrawny and the frail. This appears n.o.ble but it is ultimately foolish. There is no future in such a course."

"And what strategy do you champion,brother ?" Pooh Bear said, anger now in his voice.

"I side with the strong," Scimitar said, his eyes dead. "I do so for the good of our family and our nation. There is nofuture in your alliance with the small nations of the world.

Yours is a childish dream, the stuff of fairy tales and children's stories. Only an alliance with the powerful, with those who will rule, will be of any benefit to the Emirates."

"So with your skulking Saudi friend here you side with these renegade Americans?"

"The American colonel and his Chinese allies are useful to us at the moment. Wolf uses the Chinese, the Chinese are most a.s.suredly using him, and we use both of them. This arrangement has its dangers, but still it is better than your coalition of minnows."

"I'd rather be in a coalition of minnows than a coalition of bandits," Pooh shot back.

"Remember, brother, there is no honor among thieves. When things go awry, your allies will not remain by your side. They will abandon you in a second."

Scimitar gazed steadily at Pooh Bear, genuinely curious. "You value these people?" A nod at the pit: "The tragic Captain West? The Israeli Jew who is right now being sent to face the Mossad? The vulgar daughter of the Siwa Oracle-a girl who presumes it is her right to learn and who disgraces you by addressing you with the name of a fat storybook character?"

"They have become my family, and now I realize that they are more family to me than you."

"There is no honor in living this way, Zahir. It is a slap in the face to every tradition we hold dear. Muslims do not befriend Jews. Girls do not go to school. Nor do they address Muslim men with comical nicknames. The world I shall make will reimpose tradition. It will restore the old notions of honor. You clearly have no place in such a world, which is why you must die."

"At least I die for my friends. You, my brother, will surely die alone."

"I see." Scimitar looked down at the ground. "So be it." He began to walk away. "Out of respect for our father, I shall tell him that you died honorably, Zahir, shielding my body from an enemy bullet. I will not allow him to be shamed by your death. I leave you to the savages."

Then, with Vulture beside him, Scimitar departed via the gantry elevator, shooting up out of the mine.

"Do as you will, my brother," Pooh Bear said after him. "Do as you will."

And thus Pooh Bear was left alone in the vast underground mine, suspended in a medieval cage above a pool of foul liquid, not forty yards from the pit where his good friend, Jack West, Jr. had met a violent death at the hands of his own father.

Tiny against the vast scale of the mine, abandoned by his own brother, and now totally alone in the darkness, Pooh Bear began to weep.

KIBUYE PROVINCE, RWANDA.

DECEMBER 11, 2007, 2335 HOURS.

HAMMERED by pouring rain, out of gas, and using only three of its engines, the Halicarna.s.sus made an unseen landing on a stretch of highway in the remote southwestern Rwandan province of Kibuye.

Once the 747 was down, its rear ramp yawned open and out of it zoomed the Freelander-with Zoe, Wizard, and the kids on board. They took with them Wizard's laptop computer, a multifrequency radio scanner, some jerry cans filled with petrol, and a couple of Glocks.

Thirty minutes earlier, a call had gone out to Solomon Kol in Kenya. Ever knowledgeable about the local hazards and safe meeting points, Solomon had instructed them to link up with him at an abandoned United Nations repair depot, number 409, on the outskirts of the Rwandan town of Kamembe, located in the southwesternmost province of the country, Cyangugu.

Sky Monster, however, did not go with the others.

He stayed with his beloved plane, alone, wearing twin holsters on his waist and a shotgun on his back. He was going to remain with theHalicarna.s.sus and wait for some companions of Solomon's who were to bring him some jet fuel, enough to limp over Lake Victoria to the old farm in Kenya when the aerial patrols were called off.

And so as the Freelander sped away, Sky Monster stood beneath the giantHalicarna.s.sus, alone in the Rwandan hills.

In the distance, something howled.

Wizard, Zoe, Lily, and Alby sped along a remote Rwandan highway.

As Zoe drove, Wizard kept the radio scanner on, searching the airwaves for transmissions.

Just before sunset, the scanner picked up a military signal instructing all government forces to be on the lookout for a compact Land Rover just like theirs, carrying pa.s.sengers just like them: a blond woman, an old man with a beard, perhaps a third male, and two children.

Zoe swore. Unmanned drones patrolling the air over Kenya. Rwandan forces combing the country for them. It felt like every bad guy in Africa was on their tail.

This wasn't altogether untrue.

She didn't know that twelve hours previously, on instructions from Vulture, a series of multimilliondollar wire transfers had fanned out from the treasury of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia into the bank accounts of a dozen desperately poor and hopelessly corrupt African regimes. Each transfer was accompanied by a message: Find a black Boeing 747 that was expected to make an emergency landing somewhere in central Africa. On it would be at least two Western fugitives: an old man with a long white beard, a woman with pinktipped blond hair, and possibly a third man, a pilot from New Zealand. With them would be two children: an Egyptian girl, also with pink in her hair, and a little black boy with gla.s.ses.

Any African nation that partook in the search would receive $50 million simply for their efforts.

To the country thatfound the fugitives and captured the old man and the little girl alive would go an additional $450 million.

Thanks to a halfbilliondollar price on their heads, they really did have a dozen African regimes hunting them in the most dangerous place on the planet.

AFRICA.

In this age of GPS satellites and rapid air travel, it's easy to say the world is small, but it is Africa that shows what a lie such a statement is.

Africa isbig and despite centuries of exploration, much of its junglecovered central region remains untrampled by modern man. Its outer territories-like Nigeria with its oil and South Africa with its diamonds-have long ago been plundered by European nations, but the unforgiving nature of the interior has defied Western penetration for over five hundred years.

With isolation comes mystery, and the mysteries of Africa are many.

Take, for instance, the Dogon tribe of Mali. A primitive tribe, the Dogon have known for centuries that the star Sirius is in fact atrinary system: it is accompanied by two companion stars invisible to the naked eye, stars known as "Sirius B" and "Sirius C."

Western astronomers using telescopes only discovered this fact in the late 20th century.

In their ancient verbal legends, the Dogons also state that stars are in factsuns, an astounding thing for a primitive tribe to know.

Exactly how the Dogon people know what they know is one of Africa's great mysteries.

The thing is, they are not the only African tribe to possess unusual and ancient secrets.

In the middle of the vast and dark landma.s.s of Africa is the tiny country known as Rwanda.

Hilly and jungleridden, it is barely 125 miles wide and would fit easily inside the state of Connecticut, one of America's smallest states.

Of course, the world now knows of the 800,000 Tutsis ma.s.sacred by ethnic Hutus in the s.p.a.ce of a month in 1994-an orgy of obscenely violent killing in which the murderers used machetes and nailstudded clubs calledmasus. In one month, 10 percent of Rwanda's 7.5 million people were wiped off the face of the Earth.