The Dead Sea Codex Page 14

  "You must take the scraps as proof ... climb up ... get away. Find Farid, or Ira Levine, and tell them what's happened. I'll be okay for a bit.” She knew he was lying and bit her lip as she tried to decide what to do.

  "The hell you will,” she muttered. What if he bled to death while she was gone? But if she didn't go now...

  Lisa checked the crude dressing and was reassured to see that the bleeding had slowed down to a trickle. Greg was right. He urgently needed medical attention to replace the blood he'd lost and deal with any infection. She had to go.

  Lisa smoothed the hair back from Greg's sweaty face.

  "Take the gun,” he urged her.

  "No way. You need to be able to defend yourself if they find you before I get help. And you shouldn't move around much or you'll start bleeding again."

  "Okay, but help me move closer to the entrance."

  Lisa helped him roll over and put the gun close at hand. Then she stood, trying to convince herself that her arms were strong enough to haul herself up. Going up wasn't nearly as scary as going down. As long as she didn't look down between her legs.

  Greg spoke again, his voice hoarse with strain. “Use the cliff. Lean back against the rope and walk yourself up.” He said nothing about her getting shot in the back. “Concentrate on the climb. Don't look down."

  "I'll make it—eventually.” Lisa stuffed the papyrus scraps in a sandwich bag and slid it inside her shirt. She fitted the rope loop around her thighs and grasped the rope with both hands.

  The first tug made her arms feel like they were coming unhinged at the shoulders. “Oh, brother,” she groaned. “How did I get myself into this?"

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  Chapter Thirty-One

  Did he really speak with a woman without our knowledge? ... Did he prefer her to us?[Peter speaking about Mary Magdalene, Gospel of Mary]

  LISA FOLLOWED GREG'S instructions to the letter but her arms were on fire and her breathing sounded like an asthmatic in a tunnel. Cursing at her weakness and her weight, she hauled herself up a few more inches.

  Gasp for breath. Haul. Rest. She inched up like a snail going over a boulder.

  Crack.

  The bullet hit harmlessly a few feet away, but the effect on Lisa was dramatic.

  She surged up, hauling with a speed she had thought impossible only seconds before. Her whole body shook as she braced herself for a shot in the back.

  Instead, she got a bump on the head. In her haste, Lisa hadn't dared to look up so she missed a tiny ledge above her. It was the last one. With a mighty heave, she threw her torso over the edge and lay gasping.

  Zing.

  A third shot, closer this time. Lisa slithered forward on her stomach, scraping the skin of her belly. A few feet more and she collapsed into the shallow ditch behind a friendly boulder.

  Her body was drenched in sweat and her breath grated in her parched throat.

  How much time did she have? She'd seen two silhouetted figures across the gorge when Greg was shot but only one when she began her climb.

  The second man was on his way to intercept her.

  She groaned as she levered her weary body to a kneeling position.

  Finally she stood and mustered a ragged trot, keeping to the edge of the path and watching for hiding places. As spent as she was, Lisa spared a thought for Greg back in the cave. He'd been wounded in the stomach. She had no idea how bad it was, but his color had been terrible and he could barely speak. During the short time she'd been with him, he'd lost consciousness three times.

  Lisa stumbled on, moving as rapidly as she could. Her exhaustion made her clumsy, and she picked up several more nicks and scrapes as she slammed against corners and skidded on the slope.

  Her thirst grew as she ran. Finally she stopped behind a boulder and reached for her water bottle.

  It was gone.

  Lisa wondered how long she'd last in the growing heat. She picked up her pace again, but could no longer feel the sweat trickling down her body. That was a bad sign, along with the lightheadedness she was beginning to feel.

  She turned a corner and saw she was almost directly above Kibbutz Ein Gedi, maybe half a mile from safety.

  Except for the man standing in the middle of the path.

  For a moment she didn't recognize him, he was dressed so differently. Instead of a tailored suit and shiny black shoes, he wore blue jeans and a khaki shirt open at the neck.

  It was the Lebanese businessman.

  His eyes were no longer sleepy but bright with malice. “Going somewhere, Miss Donahue?” And he smiled.

  Before Lisa could react, he pulled a gun from his pocket. He bowed slightly, never taking his eyes off her. “Francois Leblanc, at your service. Now come here."

  Lisa approached warily, knowing she was too close to avoid a bullet if she tried to run.

  Behind Leblanc appeared another man with the sun bouncing off his golden curls. Arieh Golovey.

  "So you're in this together,” she said, stating the obvious.

  "Hawk works for me,” said Leblanc shortly. “Now what did you bring out of that cave?"

  Lisa stood motionless, her brain frantically trying to think of a way out. She didn't want to lose her only proof of the manuscript find.

  "Grab her arms, Hawk.” Arieh stepped around her.

  Leblanc moved closer to Lisa until she could smell the garlic and cigarette smoke on his breath. He looked her up and down insolently and smiled again. Then he stuffed his left hand inside her bra and yanked out the baggie with the papyrus scraps.

  Lisa smiled at his consternation as he realized that all he had was useless bits of ancient paper.

  "What the hell?” he snarled. “Where is the rest of the codex?"

  "I don't know. I found a jar like the ones in the museum—empty except for these scraps.” No way was she going to mention the other jars—or the likelihood of dozens of manuscripts.

  The Lebanese searched her face, his eyes like obsidian. He nodded at Arieh, who gripped her arms again and pressed his body up against Lisa's back. She shuddered in revulsion.

  "Now what, Eagle?” Arieh asked.

  "We tie her up and leave her in another cave I know about close to here. We will take care of her later, when there are not so many people around."

  They marched her back up the curving path to an overhang she'd passed earlier. Arieh pulled out some rope and a filthy rag from his waist pack and tied her up efficiently. The two men shoved her bound body into a crack that turned out to be a small, dusty space littered with bat dung.

  Arieh taunted her. “Bye, bye sweetheart. Maybe I'll come back and visit you before Leblanc decides on your fate,” he whispered.

  Lisa glared her defiance but couldn't spit in his face because of the gag.

  He left her lying on her side, bruised and horribly thirsty.

  She heard the shuffling steps of shoes upon the dusty path, and then there was silence except for the buzzing of flies.

  Lisa wondered what was behind her in the little cave.

  Scorpions? The yellow kind, the ones that made you really, really sick?

  Then she thought of Greg and prayed his bleeding hadn't started again. She'd left the other water bottle with him, but it wasn't much. And he was wounded, maybe unconscious.

  How long could he hold out?

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  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ...(She is) ... the image of the invisible, virginal, perfect spirit ... she became the Mother of everything, for she existed before them all, the mother-father ... [Apocryphon of John]

  ELLEN MENTALLY THANKED Lisa for insisting that she buy and bring good hiking boots. The trail they were on was sheer murder, full of loose rocks and pockets of loose dirt. She had nearly turned an ankle several times.

  She was close to panic. They'd wasted at least an hour trying to repair a flat tire on the rental car only to discover that the spare tire had a puncture too. Then a couple more hours waiting for
the rental company to show up to fetch the car. Finally, they had hitched a ride with some Israeli soldiers and had arrived at the kibbutz close to dawn.

  Ahead of her walked Salima, who was as sure-footed as an ibex. Her long black hair was neatly braided. Salima knew the route because she and Farid had hiked above the Shulamit Falls one weekend. She had insisted on bringing extra water too, saying Lisa and Greg would probably have run out by now.

  Ellen pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her forehead and neck. She remembered the guidebook describing the air around the Dead Sea as a steam bath. Ellen, trudging along, decided “steam bath” was too nice. It was more like wet cotton wool, or something heavier, like yards and yards of wet fabric that you had to part with your hands to get through.

  Her chest began to burn. So much for being in good shape. She had thought her workouts were strenuous enough, but they couldn't match climbing at a sixty-degree angle in a steam bath.

  They reached an overlook where they could scan the valley with binoculars. Salima moved her head slowly as she searched for any movement. “There!” she pointed.

  Ellen refocused her binoculars and aimed them at the far side of the wadi. High up to the left she could see two tiny figures lowering themselves towards a dark opening that had to be a cave. She stared fixedly at them until she could identify their gender. “It's two men,” she said grimly. “Then where the heck are Greg and Lisa?"

  And where were Arieh and the Lebanese?

  Salima slid her binoculars back into her knapsack. “I think we need to go over there,” she said calmly. “Come. I know a shortcut."

  And the amazing woman strode straight over the cliff. Ellen stepped forward, certain there was a sudden drop-off, and saw Salima below her on a narrow snake path that could only be used by goats.

  Ellen stuck out her hands ready to grab any handhold that offered itself and followed Salima.

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  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The truth is in the mouth of the Father; his tongue is the Holy Spirit—he who is joined to the truth is joined to the Father's mouth.[Gospel of Truth]

  LISA'S TONGUE FELT like a dried washcloth that had hung in the sun too long. Her thirst had grown to monumental proportions. She wrestled with the ropes binding her hands and feet and dreamed about water. She could drink the entire Lake Kinneret, the Sea of Galilee, in one long draught.

  Seven years ago, Lisa had won a medal for swimming across the inland lake, about five miles. Of course, she hadn't done it alone; about three hundred other Israelis, Americans, and international students had done it, too. It had resembled a party in the water, with people taking breaks from the crawl or sidestroke by floating on their backs. First aid personnel rowed alongside the swimmers, in case anyone got too tired, and the whole experience had been one of Lisa's most memorable adventures.

  Lake Kinneret contained fresh, if slightly brackish water. Such a contrast to the Dead Sea, with is viscous, super-salted water, so thick you could sit in it upright and read a newspaper. Lisa had tried swimming there, but she couldn't do any traditional strokes because of the unusual buoyancy of the water. The salt content also meant that any small cuts or abrasions stung like fire, and the air was close and sulphurous.

  Thinking about salt didn't help her now. She twisted onto her left side, hoping her sore fingers had managed to loosen one of the loops around her wrists.

  Lisa tried closing her eyes to feel the knots better. How had Arieh tied them? When was he coming back? She had no intention of being here when he returned; she didn't fancy being raped by a religious fanatic even if he did look like Michelangelo's David.

  To her amazement, the rope loosened. She slid a finger into the loop and pulled. A few more minutes of stretching and struggling and she was free.

  Lisa yanked the filthy gag from her mouth and examined her wrists. They were raw and bloody from the chafing of the rope. She tore her cotton handkerchief into strips to bind them. She didn't want to leave a bloody trail for the two men following her.

  Slowly she rose to her feet, hopping gently on each one to restore the circulation. She crept outside the cave and looked back the way she had come. Now she faced an agonizing choice: go back to Greg, who had been left alone for over two hours, or try to reach help at the kibbutz?

  As much as she wanted to check on Greg, she knew she could not help him. She had no medicines and no water.

  Reluctantly, she started down towards Ein Gedi.

  * * * *

  HISTORY REPEATED ITSELF when Lisa reached the top of the waterfall. As she came around the rock formation at the top of the public hiking trail, she heard a click.

  Barely twenty feet away, Arieh Golovey stood on a small rise, his arm raised.

  Lisa froze.

  "Give it up, Lisa. You and I have unfinished business.” He began to walk towards her, the gun never wavering.

  "You'll never get away with this,” she said, backing around the rock pier.

  "Sure I will. We're out of earshot of anyone who can help you. I can take you and then shoot you as Leblanc instructed me to. He'll never know the difference.

  Lisa tried to distract him with questions. “What's in it for you, Arieh? Or whatever your real name is. Is your group called Les Agents de Dieu?"

  "Of course. We will find this codex, this blasphemy. It will be destroyed so the Unbelievers will not use it as propaganda. And then I will have the satisfaction of knowing it will never reach the West."

  Lisa braced herself with one hand against the cliff face. A quick glance showed her a small ravine to the right of the path. If she leapt into it just before he grabbed her, she might buy a few seconds.

  "But it's no threat to you if it is published—I don't understand."

  "Yes, it is. It's a threat to all Christianity.” His blond curls shone in the sunlight and his eyes gleamed with fanaticism. “You could never understand how we think, my brother and myself. You're just a woman, and a foreigner! Women have no place as Apostles, not now, not then!"

  "What is your real name, then?"

  "Farras Golubi,” he said proudly, and reached for her with the hand not holding the gun.

  Lisa flung herself sideways. Startled by her sudden movement, Arieh fired. She felt a sting on her arm just before she hit the bottom of the little ravine. Her mouth full of dirt, she lay winded, waiting for the second bullet.

  Click. Click.

  "Shit!"

  Dimly realizing that Arieh had no more bullets, Lisa pulled herself up to a crouch and swung her body over the lip of the ravine. She risked a glance back and saw Arieh preparing to leap down from his hill to cut her off.

  Ahead, she saw nothing but dust and grit, but it was a downhill slope. Lisa had no energy left to run, so she tucked in her arms and rolled.

  Eyes closed against the dirt, she felt every bump as her body hurtled down the slope.

  Then she slammed into a wall of solid dirt. Lisa opened her eyes. She was under an overhang, and there was no place left to go.

  She twisted her head and saw Arieh charging down the path towards her.

  Then she sensed a sudden movement from above.

  Arieh toppled over as a medium-sized rock connected with his head.

  She waited for him to rise, but he was motionless.

  Lisa hoisted herself part way up. Everything hurt.

  "Lisa! Up here!"

  Still on her hands and knees, she leaned away from the cliff so she could see above the overhang. The proud faces of Ellen and Salima appeared.

  "Wham, bam, and thank us, Ma'am,” said the irrepressible Ellen.

  "How did you get here?” gasped Lisa.

  "Followed Arieh. Ira Levine and his team are on their way, but we thought you might need some assistance,” explained Ellen as they climbed down to her.

  Salima was more practical. “They will have a truck to take you home. We have water and bandages."

  By the time Lisa had swallowed two bottles of water and
Ellen had used her first aid kit to treat the bullet graze and other minor cuts, Ira Levine and several officers from Mossad had arrived.

  Two officers immediately took charge of the concussed but basically unharmed Arieh. Everyone headed towards the trucks below.

  "Wait!” cried Lisa. “There's a badly injured man in the cave back there. He was shot earlier this morning and has lost a lot of blood."

  The senior officer, a compact man with piercing brown eyes, quickly radioed for medical backup. Then he asked Lisa for directions.

  Lisa started to describe the landmarks and then stopped. “I'll have to come back with you,” she said, groaning inwardly as every part of her bruised and exhausted body protested. “No wait a minute ... there should still be a rope tied to a rock projection that's shaped like a gazelle."

  "I know it,” said the officer. “And that's where you climbed down?"

  "Yes. But there were at least two men up there. The other may have reached the cave by now.” She shivered.

  "We will find your friend. Is he armed?"

  "Yes."

  "What is his name?"

  "Gregory Manzur."

  "Dr. Greg! I knew he'd be in the middle of this.” The man did not look pleased. “I will be delighted to escort him back to the city. After he's patched up, he has some explaining to do. Did you find the source of the manuscript?"

  Lisa sighed. “Yes. And it's not just one manuscript, it looks like a whole library was in that cave..."

  "Was?” said the officer sharply.

  "Was. Someone got there before us."

  "Damn! We'll get a hold of Farid el Baz and Ira Levine as soon as we get back the City. By the way, my name's Edelstein. Your friend Manzur works with me in Mossad."

  "I know,” Lisa croaked. She swayed on her feet and Ellen grabbed her before she fell. “He told me..."

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  Chapter Thirty-Four

  He searches the sources of the rivers and brings hidden things to light. [Job 28:11]

  SCENTS OF CORIANDER and roasting lamb from the restaurant below drifted into Lisa's nostrils.