As he walked along slowly, the guardian looked up from his pipe. Goliath realized that he might arouse some suspicion, so he waved casually and made his face look confused and uncertain, like a lost tourist. He had every right to be here. The western valley was not out of bounds, even if the tombs were not open.
‘Oh, er… excuse me,’ he said. ‘Do you speak English?’
A lot of the Bedouin guides did speak English, making money from the tourist trade, but Goliath wasn’t sure if a tomb guardian would. The last thing he wanted was for this man to run off to the tomb calling for Mansoor or the others. But fortunately the old Bedouin smiled.
‘Yes… a little.’
‘I was wondering if you could help me. I’d like to know if any of these tombs are open?’
‘Not to the public,’ said the guardian as Goliath drew closer. ‘But one of them is open at the moment, and some important people are there. I can ask them if they will give you permission to-’
Before he could finish, Goliath took him out with a single chop, just below the ear. As the man fell, Goliath moved round him, grabbed and locked the V formation of his left biceps and forearm under the man’s chin and with a crossing-over motion of his right arm, snapped the man’s neck.
Goliath didn’t even wince at the crunch, he simply dragged the Bedouin to the entrance to the tomb. The door was made of heavy iron and had a key still in the padlock – a thick snap-shut padlock, not one of those cheap jobs that you can pick with a hairpin.
When he reached the doorway, he leaned in to hear what was going on. He heard voices, male and female, engaged in earnest conversation about hymns and psalms. It was, no doubt, all very interesting. But not today. These people were dabbling in affairs that were not of this earth, and soon they too would no longer be on this earth. He threw the guardian’s body into the tomb, moved back and slammed the door after him. Then, with a swift movement, he closed the padlock and heard it click.
‘Hallo!’ a woman’s voice rang out from the tomb. ‘Who’s there?’
He heard a rumbling exchange of voices in English, but it was no longer of interest to him. He had more important things to do.
He didn’t know how long it would take them to die, and therein lay the problem. Had they told anyone where they were going? Even if they hadn’t said exactly, would their approximate location be enough to find them?
There was still, however, one factor that might give away their location: the jeep. It was big enough to be picked up by a satellite or an aeroplane. But then again, he realized, that wasn’t really a problem after all. In fact, it would also provide an easy way of getting a sample of their clothes.
Quick as a flash, he got into the jeep and drove back along the spur road to the main valley.
Chapter 35
Gabrielle had been the first one to hear something going on above them. In fact, she was the only one to realize the significance of it. The others had heard the door slamming, but assumed it was the wind. Her initial inquiry in English had received no response, prompting Mansoor to switch to Arabic.
‘Nasir! aYn a’aNt! ’ shouted Mansoor.
Gabrielle and Daniel both understood. ‘Nasir, where are you?’
It was not a case of shouting from fear or anger, he had raised his voice simply because he wanted to be heard. But the silence that followed was frightening.
‘Nasir?… Hl Huneka… Nasir?’
‘M
Yhdth,’ Gabrielle shouted in her own flawless Arabic. ‘M
Yhdth.’ She was asking what was happening.
Daniel was wondering that too. He hadn’t yet reached the panic stage, but he was concerned.
What was happening? Why had they heard the door slam? He could understand an old man like the guardian suffering a stroke or a heart attack. But that wouldn’t explain the slamming of the door.
‘I think he locked us in,’ Daniel proffered.
Mansoor looked at Daniel contemptuously. ‘Why would he want to do that?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Daniel, embarrassed at the absurdity of his own suggestion, yet seeing no other answer. ‘Islamic fundamentalism, maybe. Anti-Westernism.’
‘He’s a Bedouin,’ Mansoor snapped tersely, as if this alone were sufficient explanation. And with that, Mansoor raced out of the chamber up the first staircase, with the others in hot pursuit.
As he followed, Daniel thought about Mansoor’s words. Contrary to popular Western prejudices, Arabs in general were the least likely amongst Muslims to be radicalized. The Bedouin especially tended to be pro-Western and particularly pro-British.
The Bedouin had a strict code of honour and one could get on the wrong side of them if one failed to appreciate this. But neither Daniel nor Gabrielle had done anything to offend Nasir. Indeed, one of the traditions of the Arab code of honour – especially strong amongst the Bedouin – is Dakheel, the protection of the stranger who is within one’s tent – even at the risk of one’s own life.
And tent did not literally mean a tent only, but the area of one’s home turf. To a family patriarch, this could be his house and those of his extended family. To a local sheikh or village mukhtar, it could mean his village or neighbourhood. In the case of Nasir, it would surely mean the tomb of which he was the appointed guardian. But as Daniel contemplated this, his thoughts were interrupted.
‘Oh my God!’ screamed Gabrielle as she reached the entrance corridor.
Mansoor was leaning over the dead figure of the guardian of the tomb.
Chapter 36
Sarit had watched Daniel and the others drive across to the western valley, and she had watched Goliath follow them on foot. She waited for Goliath to disappear into the distance and then set off after him.
The killing of Goliath had now been sanctioned by the Israeli Prime Minister and it was up to Sarit to decide how to do it. Normally a kidon assassin would work in a team of at least four, but it had taken them time to catch up with Goliath and time was of the essence now that they knew his intentions.
Sarit’s original plan had been to run him down on the way there and kill him. But she realized that someone in the main valley might see. Even if she didn’t get caught on the spot, she knew her rented car could be identified and traced back to her. So she let him go and then followed, watching him through her binoculars.
But as she drove towards the valley, she saw the jeep that Daniel and the others had been in drive past her in the opposite direction. And it was not Mansoor at the wheel. Indeed, neither Mansoor nor either of the others were in the jeep. It was Goliath – and he was on his own.
In an instant she realized what had happened. She was too late! He must have killed them.
Damn! She had screwed up, big time.
She realized now that she should have gone after him and run him over. Then, instead of worrying about people finding the body and linking it to the rented car of an Irish tourist, she should simply have buried him in the sand. They would never have found him.
Instead, she had given him time – time to do his dirty work. Time to kill three more people and time to get the clothing sample that he had been sent there to find. That was far more serious. Three people dead was bad enough, and that was on top of the other killings: Carmichael, Roksana and the nurse at the hospital. If Goliath was allowed to fulfil Senator Morris’s evil scheme it could be the fate of an entire nation.
So she had to stop him – and stop him now.
But then another thought came to her. What if he hadn’t killed the people in the tomb? What if he had merely locked them inside? What if they were still alive? Shouldn’t she go there to check?
Then she realized why she couldn’t do that. First of all, revealing herself to them would compromise her identity and her mission. Secondly, time was of the essence. They could probably survive in the tomb for several
