With a nod, Hector headed for the cook tent while Corbett returned to his own.
*****
Making his way back along a series of back roads, it had taken Jarral several hours to return to the deserted farmhouse. Seeing the red Peugeot pulling in behind one of the decaying outbuildings beyond sight of the road, Buttar moved to meet the car only to discover Jarral climbing out alone. They spoke in Urdu out of earshot of the others.
“Where are the others?” Buttar asked.
“The others are dead.”
“Dead? But how…?”
“The American...” he replied, his eyes flashing in anger. “There can be no question. He is not who he appears.”
“And Tariq?”
“He did not show himself. But he cannot be far away. Once the American leads us to him, we will kill them both, praise be to Allah. Go tell the others. Now I must pray.”
Watching Buttar move off, Jarral closed his eyes and prepared himself. The unexpected encounter in the village with the American had caused him to miss fajr, the morning prayer. Turning, he faced the sun as it climbed in the eastern sky. Then bringing himself fully to attention, he assumed the position known as Qiyaam and began: “Allahu Akbar…”
*****
Entering his tent, Corbett immediately broke out his computer and attempted to get off a quick email to Reed explaining the encounter in town and the escalating threat presented by the ISIS cell. But while Corbett managed to get a signal and log onto the Internet, it crashed before he could hit SEND. Frustrated, he tried again but came up with the same result. Cursing the surrounding mountains, he stowed the computer once more. Hopefully, he’d have better luck after dark.
Quickly changing into a yellow nylon jumpsuit, he pulled a pair of anti-slip soles over his waterproof cross-trainers. Then picking up his Cordex gloves and high-impact safety helmet, he was heading back out when he ran into Karim, Roberto and Ella.
“Everybody have something to eat?” he asked.
“Hector said you wanted to see us,” Roberto said with a nod, then noticed Corbett’s climbing gear. “What’s up?”
“Winch is still busted. It won’t be repaired until tomorrow at the earliest. I want to rappel down and have a look at our cave. Who’s game?”
From the expression on her face, Ella was intrigued. But having made the mistake once, she decided not to appear overly eager and said nothing.
“Just say the word,” Roberto grinned.
“How about you?” Corbett said looking at Karim, who shrugged and shook his head. “Not if I can help it. I’ll wait for the winch. Besides, I want to finish calibrating the Laser Scanner this afternoon.”
“Ella…?” Corbett asked.
“Absolutely,” she smiled. “Count me in.”
“Good. Meet me up at the mouth of the cave in twenty minutes. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
SIXTEEN
C arrying the aluminum chest containing the rappelling gear between them, Corbett and Hector lugged the equipment up the steep incline leading to the cave’s opening. Reaching the entrance, while waiting for Roberto and Ella to don their gear and join them, Hector set to work hammering a pair of heavy-duty anchor bolts into the granite overhang at the mouth of the cave while Corbett secured the maillons and rap rings on the rappelling harness. To one side, Hector had already laid out a number of coiled climbing ropes of various lengths.
By the time Roberto and Ella arrived, Corbett had donned his helmet and gloves, and was standing just inside the entrance holding a red highway flare. Stepping up beside him, Roberto peered down into the abyss.
“Any idea how far to the cavern floor?” he asked as Ella joined them.
“Good question,” Corbett said. “One way to find out.”
With the flare in his left hand, he grasped the plastic striker cap with his right and pulled it free. Then with a vigorous rub, he used the coarse surface of the cap to ignite the flare, holding it away from his body. Instantly, the end of the flare erupted in molten red light. Tossing it out into the blackness, they watched as it spiraled down into the cavernous opening, striking the rock floor below in little more than a second and a half.
“Less than two seconds…” Corbett calculated. “I’d say we’re looking at somewhere between 20 and 25 meters, give or take.”
Selecting the proper ropes, Hector secured them to the anchor and handed the loose ends to Corbett who began to thread them through the rappelling harness. Turning, he flung the first rope out into the darkness, then the backup. As the ropes snaked out and down, somewhere below the soft rose-colored glow of the flare continued to burn.
Stepping into the harness, Corbett secured the ropes then turned to both interns. “I’ll go first.” He nodded to Hector. “Drop the tape measure.”
Securing one end of a thirty-meter tape measure to the anchor, Hector tossed the tape into the gaping hole.
“Once I reach the cavern floor, I’ll shout ‘off rappel,’ so you can retrieve the harness and join me. Roberto, you go next, then Ella. We straight?”
Roberto managed an apprehensive nod.
“Ever do this before?” Corbett asked.
“First time for everything,” the young man grinned.
“When I was in college,” Ella said, “we used to go spelunking in Indiana during spring break. Not quite what we have here, but doesn’t seem too bad.”
“Good,” Corbett said, impressed. “You’re game. See you at the bottom,” he said, turning on his LED helmet light. Then taking up the slack and turning his back to the cave itself, he kicked off into space and began to descend, his legs perpendicular to his body as he rappelled down the sheer rock face.
*****
In the small overgrown yard beside the deserted farmhouse, Jarral stared up at the mountain above where the university team had pitched their archeological encampment. From
