“There’s a breeze coming from somewhere,” Ella said, her words suddenly hopeful. “I can feel it.”
Stepping cautiously forward, Corbett played the light across the space directly before them. Stooping, he picked up a loose rock and tossed it into the darkness. “Listen…” he said as it disappeared into the void.
Corbett began to count aloud. “One… two… three… four…” Somewhere far below, the rock finally struck something solid making a faint series of sounds as it ricocheted.”
“Open pit,” Corbett said at last, quickly calculating the depth in his head. “Dead end.”
Overcome with emotion, Ella fought back her tears. How had she ever gotten herself into this? To die here in the dark. It couldn’t just end like this. There had to be another way.
‘Dead end…?” Tariq repeated, his voice giving way to a sense of resignation. “Then we are finally and truly trapped?”
Corbett said nothing. Refusing to surrender, his mind began to rethink all the possibilities one more time. “There’s got to be a way.”
“If it is the will of Allah,” Tariq said, accepting his fate, “Then it must be so.”
“Will of Allah? Really…?” Ella stared at him incredulously. “And what if Allah made a mistake?”
“The God of Islam does not make mistakes,” Tariq answered. “There is only man’s lack of the wisdom to understand His purpose.”
Ella stared at him in the darkness, too angry to speak.
“We’ve got to go back to the river,” Corbett said, “Quickly.”
Turning, they headed back the way they had come. Toward the sound of the rushing water once more. As Ella hurried after Corbett, Tariq followed.
TWENTY-SEVEN
A s the light from his LED glinted off the swiftly moving current Corbett re-approached the narrow subterranean channel. Behind him, first Ella then Tariq hurried to catch up. Ahead, descending through the darkness, they could hear the clipped sounds of men speaking in a strange foreign tongue. Time was running out.
Roughly a meter wide, the river coursed over the rocks before disappearing back beneath the limestone sediment once more.
“What are you thinking…?” Tariq asked, his eyes fixed on the churning waters. “Surely not…” Leaving the thought unfinished, he dropped to his knees and began to quietly pray in Arabic.
“Run the river,” Corbett replied. “It’s our only chance,”
“Run the river…?” Ella repeated as she finally realized. “Oh no…”
Ignoring her protest, Corbett asked: “How long can you hold your breath?”
“What are you talking about? I can’t even swim,” she replied as the sense of panic swept over her once more.
“Not a problem. Once you’re in the channel, all you have to do is hold your breath and let the force of the water carry you.”
“Carry me where?”
“If we’re lucky, the base camp – where the river comes out of the rocks.”
Ella continued to stare at the rushing water. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she said again.
From somewhere in the darkness behind them, the sounds of their pursuers scrambling over the rough terrain echoed off the cavern walls.
“It’s that or we wait here for them to kill us.”
“You can’t be sure. What if it’s a rescue party?”
“Trust me. I know these people…”
“Know these people…?” she repeated as the truth began to sink in. “Who are you, anyway?” Corbett stared at her but said nothing. “You’re obviously not just some visiting archeology professor… So, who the hell are you?”
Before she could continue, Corbett set down the light pointing it so that its reflection illuminated the immediate area. Staring back toward the strange voices, his eyes probed the cavernous darkness behind them. Then turning, he nodded toward the roiling current racing down into the earth.
“Tariq,” he said, speaking with renewed urgency. “Gotta do it.”
Glancing around, Tariq could hear the voices as well and nodded as if accepting his fate. Having finished his prayer, he took off the baseball cap and tossed it aside. Then gripping Corbett’s hand, he stepped forward into the black rushing water. Crouching in the stream, he laid back and looked at Corbett one last time.
“See you on the other side,” Corbett managed a grim smile.
“I’ll be waiting,” Tariq said quietly. “Like old times.”
Then releasing his hold, Tariq allowed the current to whisk him away. Down the dark channel, in an instant he was gone.
Corbett turned to Ella, “Your turn.”
“No… I can’t.”
With no time to argue, Corbett grabbed her, physically scooping her up in his arms.
“Please don’t do this...” she protested.
“Deep breath,” he commanded.
“No... please.”
Without warning, the sound of the Kalashnikov opened up somewhere in the darkness, bullets pounding into the rocks just to their right.
“Deep breath…!” he repeated. Then forcefully placing her into the channel, he took her right hand and placed it over her nose and mouth. “Mouth shut. Hold your nose. On three…. Ready?” Her eyes widened unable to fully accept what was about to happen.
“One…” he started. Then before she could object again, he released her into the torrent watching as she was swept away.
More gunfire stitched its way toward him just above the waterline. Snapping off the LED light, Corbett quickly stowed it in the zipper pocket of his cargo pants. Then dropping feet first into the water, he drew a deep breath and let himself go, riding the swiftly moving rapids down into the bowels of the earth.
The current was fast and frigid. He held his arms tight against his body to avoid striking the rocks as he was propelled along the dark underwater passageway. Time seemed to stand suspended. His lungs began to ache as the seconds slowly passed. Then, just as he began think he might pass out, he suddenly broke the surface where the river emerged from the mountain. Gasping for air, he managed to latch onto a boulder and
