04 The Edge of Darkness Page 6

  “You’re no lightweight,” Murphy concurred. “Then there was an enormous explosion.”

  “Explosion?”

  “Yes. They must have wired the building to destroy any evidence or to discourage any pursuers. It collapsed part of the tunnel and pinned us both for a period of time. I was lucky to be able to dig us both out.”

  “Were you injured?”

  “Not badly. The claustrophobia was the worst part. The darkness, the dust … I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. I had no idea if the other end of the tunnel had collapsed, trapping us in between. All I could think about was getting you out.” That wasn’t quite true. Murphy had also realized at that moment how much he wanted to see Isis again. Levi looked at him expectantly and he continued. “After several hours we emerged into fresh air. Your bleeding had slowed, although you didn’t look so hot.” Murphy laughed. “I guess I wasn’t such a pretty sight either.”

  “Where did the tunnel lead?”

  “We emerged inside a building down the street. I looked out the window, back at the warehouse. It was a blackened, smoldering heap. Firefighters from Et Taiyiba were still in the street and were dousing hot spots with water. I couldn’t see any of the other members of your party. Un was dead, and Judah, Gabrielle, and Isaac were gone. I got the firefighters to call for an ambulance and I rode along with you to the hospital.”

  “I don’t remember any of this.”

  “At the hospital, they patched up some of my scrapes. The police came and started questioning me. That didn’t last long. Some Mossad agents took me away to another building and questioned me for a long time before letting me go. The next day I returned to the hospital to see how you were, but you were already gone, and no one had any records that you had ever been there. I felt like I was in a spy movie.”

  “You’re not far off. They took me to a special hospital that very few people in Israel know about. Once I recovered, I was sent to a safe house in South America, where I remained out of circulation for about sixty days until things quieted down. I just got back.”

  “What about Judah, Gabrielle, and Isaac? What happened to them?”

  Levi smiled. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “That’s some gratitude for you,” Murphy said with a smirk. He could tell that he was getting into issues that Levi would not reveal. He let the matter drop.

  Toward the end of dinner the conversation took another direction.

  “Levi, I have another matter I could use your help on.”

  Abrams smiled. “Well, since I’m your slave forever, how can I refuse?”

  “I may have a lead on Methuselah. I found a fingerprint that might belong to him. I was wondering if you could check it out for me.”

  “What about your friends at the FBI?”

  “Actually, they have looked at it and came up with zilch.”

  “What makes you think that I can?”

  “Well, Levi, you have friends in high places. I just thought that it might be worth a try.”

  “Sure, send it to me. We have access to lots of fingerprints. No guarantees, though.”

  “I understand … but he’s got to make a slip someday.”

  THIRTEEN

  THE FLASHLIGHT BEAM hovered around the large entry hall of the Parchments of Freedom Foundation. The light danced over the reception desk … swept to the elevators … then glided across the floor to the front doors.

  It was 2:30 A.M. when Greg Graham rattled the front doors. They were locked. He couldn’t remember how many times over the years he had checked those doors on his rounds.

  It must be in the thousands, the security guard thought. All in a night’s work.

  Then he heard something.

  He listened intently to the hushed voices in the distance. He turned off his flashlight, put his hand on his automatic, and quietly began to move in the direction of the voices.

  Why would someone be in the Hall of Ancient Artifacts? As he drew closer, his heart started to race. Even though he had been a guard for many years, he’d never had occasion to use his gun. He saw the beam of a flashlight shining on one of the cases in the center of the room, and the dark silhouettes of two men standing in front of the case.

  Greg took a deep breath and turned on his flashlight.

  “Hold it right there! One move and I’ll shoot!”

  “What in the world? Greg, get ahold of yourself!”

  The men turned around and glared at him, and he could now make out the security guard insignias on their chests. It was Tom Meier and John Drake.

  “And get that light out of our faces,” said John.

  “What are you guys doing down here? You’re supposed to be checking the upper floors.”

  “We got through early and thought we would come down and see how you were getting along,” Tom said.

  “What were you looking at?”

  John turned his light back toward the case. “Come over here and see for yourself.”

  Greg directed his flashlight beam into the case with John’s.

  “I can tell that it’s bronze, but what is it?” he said.

  “It’s the tail section of a bronze snake,” John replied. “It’s supposed to be part of the snake that Moses lifted up in the wilderness. You know, real old.”

  “How do you know all that?” Greg asked.

  “Ah, I overheard some of the curators talking.”

  “What happened to the rest of the snake?”

  “One of the curators said that the middle section was in the museum at the American University in Cairo, Egypt. The head section, he said, was lost somewhere in the Pyramid of the Winds … wherever that is.”

  “Well, you guys can stand here and look at the rear end of a snake, if that turns you on,” Tom said. “I’m going to step outside for a smoke.”

  Tom had been working for the Parchments of Freedom Foundation for less than a year and he was ready to move on. Walking around looking at old jars of clay, mummies, decaying pieces of paper, and broken stone pillars was not his idea of fun—especially at night, when he could be home in bed or out partying somewhere.

  He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. The half-full moon shone brightly in the clear night. The parking lot was empty except for four cars. He recognized his old, beat-up Volkswagen, John’s Toyota, and Greg’s Ford pickup. But it was the black SUV that caught his attention. Whose vehicle was that?

  Hmm. I’d better check that out.

  He turned on his flashlight and shined it on the vehicle. It looked empty. He checked the doors. They were locked. Through the back windows, he saw what looked like two metal cages of some kind.

  Strange.

  He took out a pad and a pen and wrote down the license number.

  I’ll check it out, just in case. I’m sure that Greg will want to know about it.

  He started back across the parking lot and tossed his cigarette on the asphalt. He crushed it with the sole of his right foot.

  He heard a soft whistling and looked around. Nobody there. Maybe he’d just imagined it.

  He had taken about five steps back toward the front doors when he heard a strange flapping noise next to his right ear.

  It was the last sound he ever heard.

  Greg and John were beginning to wonder what had happened to Tom, when they heard his footsteps coming toward them. He was shining the flashlight into their eyes.

  “That was a long cigarette break,” said John. “What did you do, smoke a whole pack?”

  “Hey … get that light out of our eyes,” Greg snapped.

  “I’ll be glad to,” came the reply.

  Greg hesitated. That wasn’t Tom’s voice. Instinctively he reached for his gun, but too late, as the knife slit his throat from ear to ear.

  John fumbled for his gun, but as he removed it from the holster, the man fired off a side kick that crushed his fingers. He cried out and the gun clattered to the floor.

  John staggered sideways, then rushed forward with a fro
nt kick that caught the stranger in the chest and knocked him back. He pressed his advantage, reaching for the nightstick in his belt with his left hand. In a moment, it was out and swinging.

  The man dodged the blow effortlessly, planting a fist into the side of John’s neck. He went down to his knees, dazed, and felt the stranger’s hands on his head. There was a quick jerk, followed by a snapping sound … and then all was silent.

  Murphy reached for his cell phone.

  “Murphy here.”

  “Michael. I’m glad I caught you. Where are you?” It was Isis, and her voice was trembling.

  “I’m in the car on the way to school. What’s wrong?”

  “Something terrible has happened at the Foundation. There was a break-m last night and three of the night watchmen were murdered.”

  “What?”

  “One was killed in the parking lot. It was terrible. His throat and neck had been ripped to pieces. The coroner said it looked like some animal had done it. He even found some feathers around the body.”

  “Talon.”

  “What?”

  “It sounds like the work of Talon. He uses his pet falcons to do his dirty work for him. That’s where he got his name.”

  “The two guards inside were also dead. One had his throat slit and the other had a broken neck.”

  “Is there anything missing?”

  “Yes, there is. The tail section of the Bronze Serpent of Moses. The one we found in the clay amphora jar, with the message scratched on it from Dakkuri.”

  Dakkuri, thought Murphy. The high priest in Nebuchadnezzar’s court.

  “Why do you think he took it?” Isis asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he wants to return it to the cult we discovered in the sewers below the city of Tar-Qasir. They weren’t too happy when we took the middle portion of the snake…. Isis, were you injured in any way?”

  “No. I’m just scared to know that Talon was that close to me again.”

  Murphy’s heart hurt to think that Talon could kill Isis like he did Laura. He knew that would be unbearable.

  “Isis, I want you to promise me something. Don’t go out alone. Keep your cell phone with you at all times. And if you don’t have a weapon, get one, and bring it with you everywhere you go.”

  “Oh, Michael. You really think Talon might come after me?”

  “I hope not. But I don’t want you to take any chances. You hear me?”

  She promised to be careful, but it did little to quell the uneasy feeling in Murphy’s gut.

  FOURTEEN

  In a field near the town of Ebenezer, 1083 B.C.

  THE DIN OF SWORDS and spears beating against metal shields swelled to a deafening pitch. It was augmented by men stomping their feet up and down, shaking the dusty ground. Soon it was accompanied by the shouts and chants of thousands of soldiers. The battle cry of men readying themselves for war echoed throughout the valley.

  General Abiezer clenched his jaw and appraised the men. The lives of these soldiers were in his hands. He knew that all of Israel was looking to him for leadership … and for victory.

  The soldiers shook with anticipation, their eyes glued on the gray horse and rider on the hill holding the battle flag high above his head. Emotions were at a fever pitch and adrenaline began to flow. Fear gripped their hearts and each man wondered if he would be alive to see the new morning. The moment of battle was close at hand. They awaited only his signal.

  This was not the first time the Israelites had to face their enemies, the Philistines. They had been engaged in many conflicts during the past three hundred years, and thousands of countrymen had died in those battles. They could trace their encounters with the Philistines all the way back to their ancestors Abraham and Isaac.

  Bazluth knelt down to tighten his war sandals. He looked up at his brother Neziah.

  “Are you afraid?

  Neziah scowled down at him, but then his expression softened.

  “Of course. To fear death is natural. But courage comes when you don’t run from your fears, but face them directly. You must not think about the pain of death, little brother. You must keep your thoughts on protecting our families and our nation.”

  “But I have never fought in a battle before like you have.”

  “Then focus your thoughts on all that I have taught you. Think about how to best swing your sword and block with your shield. Take courage and think about our enemy’s death … not yours.”

  “I know, but I—”

  “Enough of that talk! Stay close by my side and we will fight together.”

  Neziah helped Bazluth to his feet and embraced him.

  It did not take long for the rumbling noise of the Israelite warriors to reach the ears of the Philistines. They had been encamped near the city fortress of Aphek for nearly a week, preparing for battle. Their deep hatred for the people of Israel was fueled by the desire for revenge. The anticipation of the seized fortunes and the capture of slaves—especially the beautiful women from the tribe of Benjamin—those were just the spoils of war.

  Commander Jotham of the Philistine army lowered his arm and the sound of trumpets rang out throughout their ranks, followed by the battle cry of the Philistine warriors. They surged forward, pounding their shields with swords and spears in like manner as the Israelites.

  At the sound of the Philistine trumpets, the rider on the gray horse lowered the battle flag. An enormous yell went up from the Israelites and they moved toward their enemies.

  The archers from both sides of the conflict readied their weapons. Moments later, arrows sailed into the sky, answered by screams from both the Israelites and Philistines as the arrows found their marks. However, their raised shields protected most of the warriors.

  The warriors yelled at the top of their voices as they charged into the fray like madmen, their swords and spears held high. It was now a matter of kill or be killed … and no one wanted to die.

  As warriors from both sides merged, screams of agony could be heard everywhere. Wounded men desperately tried to stop the flow of blood from their limbs or torsos. The dust swelled, making it difficult to see or breathe. Soldiers stumbled over the bodies on the ground and slipped in the blood. It was almost impossible to tell one soldier from another as they butchered one another.

  The initial, brutal foray lasted for almost an hour. Then the sound of the withdrawal trumpets began to blast. Both sides retreated to opposite ends of the valley to rest, regroup, and reevaluate battle strategies. It was also a time for counting losses and assisting the wounded back to camp.

  General Abiezer was in his tent with his advisors when the messenger brought word from the battlefield. “Sir, the Philistines have killed about four thousand of our Israelite warriors. There are about another two thousand wounded. It is estimated that we killed only three hundred of their soldiers.”

  Abiezer was speechless. All of his advisors dropped their heads in despair. There was a long silence. Captain Gaddiel was the first to speak.

  “Why has the Lord allowed us to be defeated before these Philistine dogs today? Let us bring the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord to the battlefield. It will protect us and give us victory.” Gaddiel thought that the sight of the Ark of God would encourage the disheartened soldiers.

  The advisors in the room nodded their heads in agreement.

  Gaddiel continued, “The Ark of the Covenant is under the care of Hophni and Phinehas, the sons of Eli the priest. They are in Shiloh. It would not take long to get the Ark and bring it here.” He nearly choked on his own words. He had heard too much about the sordid lives of Hophni and Phinehas.

  Commander Hadoram joined in. “The Ark is the home of the Lord of Hosts. He dwells between the two cherubim on the top. If the Ark comes among us, it may protect us from the hand of our enemies.”

  General Abiezer gave a questioning look at all of his advisors. He was not yet convinced. He issued a silent prayer. “Oh, God, I need your help in this decision. We must win the battle
tomorrow.”

  One by one, all of the advisors voiced their agreement with Commander Hadoram, until Abiezer finally acquiesced to their suggestion. A new sense of courage and hope arose in their hearts.

  Abiezer spoke: “Captain Gaddiel, I want you to take a group of soldiers with you to Shiloh. Bring back the Ark of the Covenant, along with Hophni and Phinehas. I want them to pass through the warriors and bless them as they go out to battle. I am confident that the Lord will give us a great victory.”

  Gaddiel bowed and left the tent. He quickly gathered fifty of his elite soldiers.

  “Men, we have an urgent mission. We must travel through the day and into the night to Shiloh. Our orders are to bring back the Ark of the Covenant and the sons of Lev i, the high priest.”

  The men looked surprised, but Gaddiel pressed on. “We have about eighteen hours to do this. We must return in time for tomorrow’s battle. Our brother soldiers are depending on us. We cannot again suffer so great a loss as we did today.”

  This resonated with the men. They stood ready to do whatever was necessary.

  Gaddiel swelled with pride. With the Ark at their side, how could they fail?

  FIFTEEN

  MURPHY HAD GROWN to adore his course in biblical archaeology. His students seemed alert and eager to learn. Word of mouth had made the class size increase each year. Everyone seemed to enjoy the lectures, except the dean of the Arts and Science faculty, Archer Fallworth. Maybe he was jealous because his classes seemed to diminish in size. Or, maybe it was the fact that he just didn’t like Christians. He often said that the Bible was for “bubbleheads.” And he referred to any athletes who shared their faith as “Jocks for Jesus.” Murphy just found him boring. Anyone who published a paper on “Button Materials of the Eighteenth-Century Georgia Plantations” needed to get a life.

  Murphy entered the lecture hall and joked with a number of students before he set up his PowerPoint presentation. He flashed the lights once and everyone got the message to sit down and stop talking.

  “Good morning. In our last class we spent some time looking at various pagan gods.”