Chapter 1
Table Of Contents
JABIR SAT IN the passenger seat and slipped the clip into his handgun. Behind, he heard the clicks of two more clips. He turned to the driver and glanced at his gun. "Hamid, get your gun ready."
Hamid pulled his handgun from beneath his jacket and stared at it. Jabir handed him a clip. He took the clip and paused before clicking it into place. He glanced in the rearview mirror at the two men stoically waiting for orders, and then turned to find Jabir's eyes still on him.
"Jabir, please, listen to me—"
Jabir held up a hand and shook his head. "Not another word."
"But you didn't see him. He bent the gun with his bare hands like it were nothing to him." He turned to the two men in the backseat. "You saw it; tell him."
Jabir turned to see the two men cast their gaze down, but they remained silent. "Well, did you see this superman bend steel?" Neither man answered. He looked back to Hamid and chuckled. "Please, Hamid, you're better than this. This is no different from any other job we've done."
"But—"
"Look, Sofian is one step closer to Azim, which means we are one step closer to Azim." He patted Hamid on the cheek. "Besides, when didn't one of your bullets stop a man?"
"I have a bad feeling about this one."
Jabir's smile grew into a frown. "Enough. We'll carry out Azim's orders, and we'll quit talking about your superman. Understand?"
Hamid didn't answer. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. Jabir pointed his gun at him and nudged his temple. Hamid opened his eyes and slowly turned to see the barrel staring him in the face.
"Understand?"
Hamid nodded. Jabir pulled the gun away and spoke loud enough for the two men in the backseat to hear. "We all know the four men we're after. When Sofian calls, we'll enter the rabbi's house and execute him along with anyone else with him." His glare burned into Hamid. "This is just like any other order we've carried out. Those filthy swine dared to lift a hand against Azim's sister, so they deserve to die." He heard strong agreement from the two men in the backseat.
Jabir and Hamid stared at the cell phone when it rang. Jabir pushed the button and held it to his ear. Fifteen seconds later, he ended the call. "Sofian confirms the Israelis are out of the area and all four men are in the rabbi's house." He opened his door and the others followed him out. "Allah's justice will be carried out."
The four men walked down the quiet alley behind the rabbi's house. Discarded crates were piled next to the shop doors across from the house. Through the cast-iron gate, Jabir could see three men in the window sitting at the kitchen table. The blinds on all the other windows were turned at just the angle where he could not see in. He waited until the fourth man returned to the table before lining the rabbi in his sights. Each man drew his gun and found his particular target. They all waited for Jabir to give the order.
* * * *
Thomas, Michael, and Delia stared up the tunnel, fearful of whom, or what, was on its way down. Delia and Michael pulled away from each other and stood on opposite sides of the tunnel. Thomas prayed whoever it was didn't overhear their conversation, but the echoes caused by the rolling stones left him with a bad feeling.
Thomas saw the outline of a man emerge from the darkness. The man called out something in Arabic, and Thomas thought he heard the word "Delia." Delia responded in Arabic, and Thomas was sure he detected relief in the deep voice that responded. Soon, a mountain of a man stood next to them.
Delia and the man, who Thomas recognized as one of Umar's men, carried out a conversation in Arabic. Thomas looked to Michael and asked, "What's he saying?"
Michael shushed him and held up a finger while he listened intently to what they were saying. After a few minutes, he turned to Thomas. "I'm far from being proficient in Arabic, but I think I've got the gist of what he's saying. He said we've been down here a long time and they began to worry, so he came to make sure we were all right."
Thomas waited for the rest of the interpretation, but Michael remained silent. "That's it? All that talking, and that's it?"
"I told you it was just the gist." Michael thought for a moment and then added, "He did say something that doesn't make sense. He said he feared the light and scared the darkness away to hell."
"Not bad, Doctor." The two men turned to Delia, who stood with a grin. "You're right about him checking on us, but the other thing he said was that none of them had a flashlight so he had to make the trip with only the light from his cell phone. He said the shadows it cast made him feel like he was descending into hell." She looked to the man and smiled. "He's glad to see us and says he'll stay with us until we go to the surface."
"Does he speak English?" Thomas asked.
"Only what he picks up around Umar."
"Then …"
"I believe we're quite safe."
They spent the next two hours searching the tunnel for any signs pointing to new information about the Samson Effect. Thomas was pleasantly surprised that Delia and Michael put on a good show for their guest. If he didn't know better, he would have thought their relationship was purely professional.
The man said something to Delia, who nodded. "He said he thinks we better be getting back up now. It's late and someone else will soon come down if he's not back up."
Michael sighed. "Might as well leave. We've been to the end of the shaft and searched the floor and walls for any signs of a chamber or something buried. Nothing." He looked at the stone chip in his hand. "I don't understand why the mark is here."
Thomas put his hand on Michael's shoulder. "Whatever was down here has obviously been removed. Let's just hope it wasn't the Samson Effect itself."
On their way up, Thomas learned that Azim hired men to clear the snakes from the first cave. He sensed it bothered Delia that the men claimed there were only seven snakes in the nest, considerably less than the hundreds she estimated. He found it funny until they volunteered him to be the first one down. He found himself having second thoughts about the exterminators' thoroughness.
Once out of the cave, they picked up their tools and headed home, planning to revisit the first cave in the morning.
* * * *
A car pulled around to pick up Umar's man from in front of the cave's entrance. They began following Delia's truck to make sure the three arrived home safely. The man who entered the cave turned to the man in the backseat and said, in perfect English, "When Umar calls, tell him I need to speak with him. It's about Delia and Dr. Sieff."
* * * *
Thomas wasn't looking forward to spending the night in the room again. The window had been replaced, but he found comfort when Delia told them her uncle had placed men in one of the buildings across the street to keep watch over them twenty-four hours.
He let the other two enter first and found Michael sitting on his bed. "You're not sleeping in my bed."
Michael gestured toward the bed that the pig's head had landed on. "I think they replaced the bed. Look at it. It looks brand new."
"Good, then you won't mind getting off my bed, will you?"
"Come on, Thomas. You know I'm Jewish."
Thomas looked at the bed and cringed. "Fine, but if I even think I smell bacon, I'm taking my bed back and you can sleep on the floor, for all I care."
Michael smiled and lay down on his back, stretching his arms behind his head. His smug look was almost enough to make Thomas walk over and flip him out of bed. Instead, he reached down and yanked the covers from his new bed. The sheets were clean. A cursory examination turned up no signs of pig blood. Thomas shuddered at the thought of lying down on the bed and decided he had better not look at it too closely.
"You remember why I studied biblical archaeology, don't you?"
Michael rolled on his side and thought. "I remember. You wanted to become an MD, but you couldn't stand the sight of blood." Michael smiled until the meaning behind Thomas's question dawned on him. "There's no blood on that bed, and besides, my reasons are spiritual. You wouldn't want to be responsible for a stain on my soul, would you?"
"When's the last time you've been to a synagogue?"
Delia stepped between them. "Boys, boys. As much as I hate pigs, for biological and spiritual reasons, I may add, I'll sleep on the bed if it'll keep you two quiet."
Thomas felt appropriately chastised. "No, no; I'll take the bed." He looked at Michael, preparing to fight over the bed, but Michael closed his eyes and smiled. He plopped down on the bed and bit his tongue.
The door opened and the man who was with them in the cave stepped in. He spoke to Delia, who relayed the message to Michael. "My uncle wishes to speak with you, now." They both stood and stepped to the door, but the man stopped Delia with his arms and said something to her. She looked at Michael. "Alone."
* * * *
Umar sat in the chair across from the sofa and coffee table casually sipping his wine. When Michael entered, he stood and extended his hand toward the sofa. "Dr. Sieff, please be seated. May I offer you a Coca-Cola?"
Michael eased onto the sofa and crossed his legs. "Actually, I'd prefer what you're having, if you don't mind."
"Not at all; my pleasure." Umar walked over to the bar and reached for a bottle. "Tell me, Doctor, was your expedition today profitable?"
"We managed to do all right for ourselves."
Umar poured the wine and headed back to Michael. "Would I be out of line in asking what it is you're looking for?" He handed the glass to Michael and sat down.
Michael swirled his wine as he carefully chose his words. He smiled and glanced to Umar. "Maybe you'd better ask Azim. I mean no disrespect, but I don't want to tread where I don't belong."
Umar narrowed his eyes. "Interesting choice of words."
The words flowed like molasses from Umar's lips. Michael felt uncomfortable in the ensuing silence as Umar stared at him. He sipped his wine and adjusted himself on the couch.
Umar cracked the silence with his jovial voice. "No, I guess you wouldn't. Azim will tell me in his time."
Again, silence smothered Michael. Umar contentedly sipped his wine and smiled, never taking his eyes off Michael. When it seemed apparent Umar wasn't going to speak, Michael set his glass on the table. "I'm sure you didn't ask me here to have someone to drink with or to just find out why Azim's working with
us."
The smile didn't fade from Umar's face. "Perceptive, Doctor." Umar downed the remaining half glass of wine and set his empty glass next to Michael's. When he leaned back in his chair, his smile was gone and his forehead pinched in anger. His voice became heavy, and every syllable caused Michael's muscles to tense. "Do you remember what we talked about at the bar this morning, Doctor?"
Umar's flaming eyes unnerved Michael. He slowed his breathing in an attempt to keep his body from betraying his fear. "Of course. You made yourself perfectly clear."
"Apparently, I didn't. I told you I love my niece, and I would have no hesitation in killing anyone who harmed her. Do you remember that, Dr. Sieff?"
Michael controlled every biological sign of nervousness except for the lone drop of sweat that ran from his forehead to the tip of his nose. He replied calmly, "I remember."
Umar leaned back and gripped the chair's arm. When he did, his jacket pulled away, revealing a chest holster and gun. "Then what are the stories I hear about you putting your filthy hands on my niece, and …" Umar brought his hand to his mouth to suppress a vomit. He squeezed his eyes shut and wiped his face with his hand. The next words fell from his mouth like individual buckshots. "And… put … your … lips … on … her?"
More sweat drops joined Michael's lone drop. He reached for his glass, but he couldn't prevent the wine in it from vibrating. In a fraction of a second, a battle raged in his mind on whether to deny the accusation or to seek forgiveness. Consciously, he had no idea what his brain had chosen until the words fell from his lips.
"I love her."
No … oh please, no!
It was too late. All he wanted to do was to stretch out his arms and corral the words back to him. Umar's dark, leathery skin turned crimson. He stood and towered over Michael, speaking through clenched teeth. "You are a fortunate man, Doctor. I love Delia too much to let this get back to Azim, and I very well can't kill you or I'd have to answer to him. However, I will teach you to never defile her again."
With a sharp nod, he ordered his men to Michael. One man pulled him from the sofa by his hair while another locked his arms behind his back and held him steady.
* * * *
Thomas was standing by the map when the door flew open and Umar marched in followed by two men dragging Michael by the shoulders. Both of Michael's eyes were bruised and swollen shut. His nose looked like it was broken, and blood was caked on his face. Delia cried out his name and raced toward him as the men threw him onto the bed.
Before she could reach him, Umar grabbed her hair and roughly yanked her to a stop. She turned in time to catch her uncle's backhand across her cheek. Her legs gave way, but Umar's hold on her hair kept her from falling.
Thomas rushed to Michael's side and then to the bathroom for a damp cloth. When he returned he gently dabbed the blood away, and Michael began to moan.
"Dr. Hamilton, you and Delia will continue Azim's work until Dr. Sieff regains his strength." He dragged Delia by the hair to the door. "Fahd, you'll now be sleeping in this room." He forced Delia's face to his. "One word from you and I swear I'll turn you over to Azim!"
Before he left, he turned to Thomas. "Dr. Hamilton, don't give me any reason to display my wrath toward you. I'm not sure I'll be as controlled next time."
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