Slowly they climbed back down. Another policeman grabbed hold of him as he reached the bottom, gripping him tightly as he tried to take a close look at the unmoving body of the woman trapped under the metal frame. He could see blood seeping through her clothes.
Every seat in the church seemed to be covered in large bits and pieces from the roof. In his head he could still hear the explosion, and in his mind he could still see the flying metal and dust. He felt his knees begin to shake.
The policeman eventually released his hold and told el-Quraid to stay where he was while he went to talk to Uncle Hassan. He could hear them talking together. Then his uncle came over and gave him the news. He must go home quickly. There might be more bombs. The woman on the ground? She was dying.
El-Quraid broke free, running towards the gathering group of men who were trying to lift the metal framework from the woman's body. She lay face down on the rough stone floor, her clothes stained bright red.
He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out the banknote The reason for his sudden wealth was now obvious, Finding the money outside the synagogue on his way here was insha' Allah, and it had to be spent wisely.
"Use it to make the lady better," he said, giving it to the policeman dragging him outside.
Chapter 66
Red Mountains, South East Egypt
AS THE SAND of the Eastern Desert turned to rocky outcrops, the pilot increased the altitude of the Jet Ranger. Colonel Ben Abadi nodded his head as though consent for the maneuver had been sought in advance, but already the aircraft was climbing rapidly. Sam smiled. The pilot was not a man to obey orders to a point where he would destroy his own life. The large rocks were still only just below skid height but they missed the craft, although hardly by a margin of safety.
The Colonel held the map open on his lap, having taken on the role of navigator. "As soon as we're in that valley we'll be out of ground radar vision. The AWACs aren't covering the mountains yet. Make a bearing of zero-five-three degrees."
The helicopter banked slightly to miss a windswept tree covered with a mass of dark green leaves. "Bearing zero-five-three," confirmed the pilot.
"Pass between the two ridges at the top. I estimate twenty-five to thirty minutes and we'll have the road in sight. I'm waiting for more news on the Mitsubishi."
Sam watched the desolate landscape on each side. He could see occasional flock of sheep and goats on the rock-strewn slopes, seeking shelter in the fading light. An animal that looked like a gazelle leaped for the shelter of a rock as the pilot applied maximum power. A sudden increase in altitude made his ears pop. Then he noticed a series of tracks, wandering around the foot of the mountain. Four went higher, and one became a route that was probably used by the inhabitants of a remote village to take them from their valley, over the mountain, safely into the next valley.
He recalled Panya's earlier attempts to explain her faith, and nodded to himself. Panya could be right. Maybe not all tracks led to the other side. Maybe he should have listened to her more closely. The Jet Ranger climbed almost vertically to miss the sheer rise of the high mountain. Egypt wasn't all sand dunes and pyramids.
Colonel Abadi spoke into his radio, then turned to Sam. "I've just received a report of the Mitsubishi passing an army checkpoint..." he put a finger on the map, "... here."
Sam looked to where the contour lines almost touched.
"Endermann and the pilot from Râs Banâs are still in the vehicle." The Colonel seemed to be speaking as much to himself as to Sam. "The pilot in the Mitsubishi doesn't fly helicopters. He'll need an airstrip for whatever he's flying." He studied the map. "There is a flat military area near the top of the pass ... here."
"For launching missiles?"
"So why is there a pilot? You do not need a pilot to launch missiles from the ground, Mr. Bolt. No, the area is a disused army base with a landing strip. Perhaps Endermann has a jet concealed there. Perhaps that is the Eagle." Abadi turned to the pilot. "Heading zero-six-four and minimum altitude. We need to get there before night. Not even you could fly a helicopter through these mountains after dark without night vision systems."
Again the Jet Ranger banked, continuing the climb up the mountain without reducing speed. The pilot seemed determined to show his skills. Sam watched the jagged peaks increase in height faster than the Jet Ranger could climb towards them. The Red Mountain range was massive.
"Unfortunately this helicopter is without armament and without defensive systems," Abadi told Sam. "That is what comes of getting equipment at short notice."
The ground fell away sharply as they crossed a deep ravine. And there it was, a winding mountain pass resembling a length of contorted string. Colonel Abadi pointed excitedly. There was no mistaking that this was the right road. It was the only route through the mountains. Sam saw a blue pickup looking almost stationary.
The lack of speed was an illusion caused by the high altitude and the increasing darkness. As the Jet Ranger dropped behind the Mitsubishi, Sam realized just how fast the vehicle was being driven. Clouds of dust blew from the wheels, laying a trail three or four hundred yards in its wake.
"Follow from behind," ordered Abadi. "It will be dark soon."
In the fading light the pilot had his work cut out, keeping clear of the ravine while maintaining a position slightly behind the Mitsubishi. Sudden gusts of wind rocked the Jet Ranger as they watched Endermann reach the top of the pass, swinging to the right, onto an area of level ground marked out with a short runway.
"The airstrip was closed years ago," said the Colonel, "but the old hanger is still there. And look at that!"
Sam looked to where Abadi was pointing. The black outline of a glider stood outside the hanger. The wings were longer and much wider than a typical club glider.
"It's a Gideon One," said Abadi. "We had a report of unidentified aircraft movements three weeks ago, before the AWACs came on patrol. Nothing showed up on the satellite images. Obviously no one thought to send a party up here to investigate the old hanger."
Sam knew about the Gideon One. An experimental Israeli stealth aircraft, it could be towed to forty thousand feet before being released, silently crossing the border of a neighboring country for a brief high-level nighttime reconnaissance in total silence, in order to eavesdrop on hostile military bases and suspect refugee camps, before returning home by itself. The Israelis had quickly learned the value of silent surveillance, and had come up with the vastly superior Gideon Two, making this model obsolete. Some of these experimental Gideon Ones were piloted, and others were flown by remote control, but they all flew without power once the tug released them. The Gideon Two was very different in design, with a small propeller powered briefly by electricity to maintain position, with the advantage of advanced cladding to achieve greater invisibility to ground radar.
"It's not exactly a nuclear missile," said Sam.
"Take out the surveillance equipment and you could easily put a small nuclear device on board. Perhaps even larger than the one that devastated Beni Mazar." Abadi swore quietly. "The Israelis are rumored to have lost one of these craft over Saudi Arabia four years ago. I'm guessing this is it."
The last light from the sky caught the wings of a single engined airplane by the hanger, presumably the tug that would launch the glider. If the Gideon One contained a nuclear warhead it would obviously be pilotless, so the tug would have to release it in the right direction and get clear before the blast. The glider wouldn't have to hit any special target to cause destruction.
"The canopy is off the glider, but they're getting ready for take-off," said Abadi. "I can see a fuel tanker down there."
The driver of the tanker suddenly noticed the Jet Ranger and pointed to the sky. Two men leaped from the Mitsubishi, one of them running towards the old hanger.
One moment Sam saw what looked like panic on the ground, then a missile climbed skywards, white smoke trailing from the hanger doors.
The pilot tipped the Jet Ranger ont
o its side, diving sharply in a hasty maneuver. The small missile seemed to pass harmlessly to the rear, but a jolt rocked the helicopter as the tail rotor exploded into fragments. The cockpit starting to turn with increasing speed, and Sam felt his head being flung violently around.
"We're going down," shouted the pilot, cutting the engine too late to stop the helicopter rotating.
It seemed that the ground was turning as they headed for a pile of rocks at the far end of the old airstrip. Too late, Sam realized he had not latched his seat belt.
The impact was immense: the noise extreme.
As his head cleared, he saw he was lying on sand by some large rocks to one side of the wreckage of the Jet Ranger. Something in his chest made breathing almost impossible, but he felt strangely numb all over. He could smell the fuel, but there was no fire. Colonel Abadi and the pilot lay strapped in the wreckage, but only Abadi was moving.
The Mitsubishi driving across the airstrip was not coming to make a rescue. Sam rolled behind a rock, frantic to stay out of sight. The ground seemed significantly darker than it had looked in the air, although the moon now showing over the mountain top filled the airfield with a blue glow.
The Mitsubishi stopped, the wreckage of the Jet Ranger brightly illuminated in its powerful headlights. Sam raised his head as two men jumped out. He could see one of them was holding a handgun.
"Over here, Mr. Endermann."
A giant of a man ran to the helicopter and fired twice. The pilot's body remained motionless as the bullet ripped into his chest, but Colonel Abadi's head leaped back under the impact of the bullet, his eyes suddenly open.
Sam lay still as the two men glanced around before hurrying back to the Mitsubishi and returning to the hanger. The big man must be Endermann, and he was careless in not checking for anyone else. This gave Sam hope. A careless man was not a thinking man. And already his head hurt less.
The smell of spilled fuel from the Jet Ranger seemed to be getting stronger. He looked at Colonel Abadi's body hanging from the seat, and remembered how the man had earlier threatened the pilot with a pistol. Endermann had picked nothing up just now. He'd find the gun and get to the hanger.
The gun gleamed by the rocks, catching the light from the moon that had now appeared over the mountain top. He picked it up and examined the chamber. One up the spout and the magazine full. Colonel Abadi hadn't been bluffing. He went to the two bodies strapped in their seats and felt for a sign of life. Both men were dead. Endermann's bullets had made sure of it.
He could see Endermann and two other men refueling the small aircraft. The canopy for the glider had still not been fitted. Sam guessed the abandoned runway was too badly pitted for a jet, but the light prop aircraft would be able to use it. He wondered if he should lie down at the end of the runway and wait for the plane to pass overhead, then shoot at it with the Colonel's pistol. No, it was an idea unlikely to succeed. Abadi's memory demanded a better plan than that. There might be an AKM by the hanger. If he could get there, he might be able to shoot his way out.
He tried to run, crouching low, while watching for signs of activity. The impact during the crash had temporarily deadened his feelings, but the pain was now hitting him hard in the chest. He dropped to the ground close to the hanger, trying not to cry out.
"You're going to pay for those two lives," he said aloud, his voice causing him a moment of anxiety. He'd not meant to make a sound, especially as he was now within firing range. Slowly he lined up Abadi's pistol, holding it firmly with both hands. Brightly lit by the moon, the cockpit of the tug sat across the sights on the top of the barrel, with the stubby foresight positioned on the pilot's door. From back here he could cause damage. From half this distance he could cause devastation. He crawled forward.
Chapter 67
Râs Banâs, Egypt
COLONEL Schenkmuller of the United States Air force sat impatiently in his Jeep at the Râs Banâs airbase, listening to Endermann giving him orders on the radio. It seemed that someone in a Jet Ranger helicopter had been chasing the man.
"I'm not interested in your local problems. We have to get that glider in the air before the eclipse," Schenkmuller snapped, not caring what Endermann thought. "There's nothing more I can do. You wanted me here at Râs Banâs to cause confusion when the tug blows."
Across the parking lot in the main control room, men sat hunched over green phosphor screens, alert for any trace of unidentified aircraft. All hell would break loose when the Eagle of Darkness appeared over the base. There could be no second chance. Another twenty-four hours and the American AWACs would be operational right down the Red Sea, and he knew that Endermann's plan would be useless.
"Leave the bodies where they are, Endermann. When this mother cow gets over Berenice, the world will have more to worry about than two stiffs in a crashed chopper. Get your Eagle launched, and get the hell out of it!"
Endermann obviously didn't like the tone of voice, and made the fact clear. He was in charge, he said, and he gave the orders.
Schenkmuller laughed. "Okay, Endermann, if you don't need me, just say so." He knew how to treat arrogant men. "I'm going to sign on for duty."
He slipped from his Jeep and glanced across at the large moon bathing the base in a cold blue light. Within the hour the light would slowly dim as the lunar eclipse started. A few men worked on aircraft at the far side of the airfield, but the air seemed curiously silent. It was difficult to believe that this peace was about to be shattered.
*
Red Mountains, South East Egypt
ENDERMANN kicked at the dust under his boots. It was stupid to get worked up about a small-minded colonel in the USAF. Anyway, Schenkmuller was already being dealt with. Sometimes it was necessary to use people who were inadequate, in order to achieve a goal. But there was no need to retain them once the work was complete. He turned angrily to the tug pilot. "We're going to be late. Get that canopy on. I thought you had this glider ready."
"It is nearly ready, sir."
"And the warhead controls are set?"
"All is fine, Mr. Endermann. Ahmed showed me exactly what to do."
Endermann called to the Egyptian tanker driver. "You sure you haven't cheated? This plane has enough fuel for the job?"
The driver jumped to attention. "Exactly as you ordered, sir."
Endermann nodded. "Then come round to the side of the hanger and I'll pay you. I may have to leave here in a hurry."
Endermann noticed how the man grinned in eager anticipation. He'd seen it before. The excitement on the face: the gratitude for cash payment. People always said he was thorough.
How did the driver think he could explain the absence of a fuel tanker from the Râs Banâs base? Did the idiot really think he would be allowed to tell tales on who was behind the Eagle of Darkness. Endermann screwed the silencer onto the end of the barrel as the driver came for his remuneration.
SAM WATCHED the heavy caliber bullet burst out through the man's chest in a cloud of blood, making hardly a sound. The pilot continued to adjust the tow rope, obviously unaware of the killing by the hanger. Trying not to notice the pain in his ribs, Sam slowly lined up Abadi's handgun on the pilot's head.
Faced with a live target in the sights he froze. Endermann was the killer who deserved to die, but this man might be innocent. It was all Panya's fault that he was here, anyway. And what was Panya doing at this moment? Probably having a homely meal with her church cronies in Cairo, far away from all this pain and danger.
Endermann strolled back to check the tow rope and speak to the pilot again. Sam got down on one knee with the pistol at arm's length, taking careful aim at the big man's chest. But the pain in his body made his arm start to tremble. Quickly he gently squeezed the trigger. Endermann stayed standing. Sam looked at the handgun. Somehow he'd missed.
Endermann reacted quickly. Two shots zipped across the open tarmac towards the low wall where Sam crouched. Pieces of masonry flew into the air. Sam tried a two-handed grip this time, r
esting the butt on the wall.
But Endermann was already in the Mitsubishi, slamming the door of the vehicle shut. Swinging the gun towards the off-roader, Sam fired low into the darkness, hoping to hit the tires as the Mitsubishi accelerated through the broken gates. The off-roader dropped out of sight on the tortuous descent.
Sam staggered painfully to the top of the pass, watching the bright headlights sweep backwards and forwards through the endless series of hairpin bends, the vehicle's tires obviously intact.
Sam hauled himself up into the cab of the fuel tanker and saw the key still in the ignition. Quickly he turned it. The seconds seemed like an hour before the engine fired.
The large truck lurched forward as he found the switch for the headlights. Knocking the gear into neutral he kept the wheel straight ahead, aiming the tanker at the low wall separating the road from the cliff face.
It was time to jump.
He fell heavily onto the ground as the tanker crashed through the wall, the red lights launching themselves into space like the tail of a rocket shooting into the night.
He crawled awkwardly to the edge to watch the truck crashing downwards. Sweeping headlights showed the position of Endermann's Mitsubishi negotiating a hairpin far below.
The tanker burst into flames, an orange inferno gushing from the ruptured tank of aviation fuel as it plowed remorselessly through the winding ribbon of road, careening through low stone walls and safety barriers. The noise of destruction echoed through the valley and the night. And all the time the enveloping flames got closer to the fleeing Endermann.
At first it looked as though the timing was unlucky. The wreckage of the tanker, still spewing fire, shot across the road in front of the Mitsubishi as Endermann hit the brakes. The Mitsubishi's red tail lights shone brightly as it avoided the tanker. Then it skidded on the burning trail of fuel and turned sideways, crashing through the wall, before rolling down the fiery trail.