Operation Syria

— 18 —

Maggie went first after the three soldiers to show Kim how easy it was and waited on the far side to help the other woman through. Kim gasped aloud when she saw a piece of the rock carvings that were illuminated by the light on Davies’ weapon.

“God, it’s beautiful.”

Maggie could only agree but they didn’t have time to stop and look, for Wiggins was already coming through the gap above them.

“Move over, ladies,” he said. “You wouldn’t want me falling on top of you. Though I might enjoy it.”

“You should be so lucky,” Maggie replied and moved away quickly, leading Kim with her towards the doorway, where Captain Banks already stood, shining his light out into the chamber beyond.

“Looks clear,” he said. He waited until Hynd and Wilkins came through, then went ahead down the steps out of the chamber. Maggie felt Kim’s hand find hers in the gloom, she gave it a squeeze that she hoped was reassuring, then followed the gun lights out into the wider cavern.

The place stank, an acrid taste akin to burnt rubber and fine gray ash coated the floor, crisp as fresh snow on a cold day underfoot. Black scars on the walls showed where the burning had been at its most severe. The air felt stiflingly warm, as if the rocks had retained heat and were still radiating it. As they followed Banks, Maggie had an eye open for any more carvings and fresh find of significance but this chamber looked to be mostly a natural cavern in the hill with little sign of any working beyond the steps and doorway they’d just left.

Banks and the two privates, Davies and Brock, led the group directly up the center of the space, heading for a darker opening that could be seen to the north. They all soon had to step gingerly through the burnt remains of spiders, twenty at least of them, lying in heaps of ash and burned legs tangled willy-nilly together in their death throes. The smell was worse here, harsh in the nose and tickling at the back of the throat when she switched to mouth breathing. Despite holding a hand over her lips and trying to breathe shallowly, Maggie had to fight off a gag reflex. It got even worse when an incautious step meant her foot went down and into, the main body of a large spider, releasing a moist farting sound and an assault of acridity that choked her. She moved on quickly, fighting off an urge to scrape her shoe clean on the leg of her trousers, for that would only ensure the stench stayed with her all the longer.

Fortunately, the dead spiders were all concentrated in one area toward the center of the chamber. In the space of half a dozen quick steps, they were able to move through and past them, to join Banks and the two privates as they reached the shadowed exit at the north end. A welcome breeze came from the passageway ahead, colder air, mostly clear of the stench of burning and Maggie took a grateful lungful as the captain called them all together into a huddle.

“That was the easy bit,” he said, keeping his voice low. “The earlier burning cleared the way for us. If we’re lucky, the buggers have fucked off completely. But we can’t count on that. We don’t know what’s ahead of us, so stay close, don’t stray, and no shooting unless I order it. Sarge? Pass me one of the gas canisters. I’ll take point. And if I say run, don’t hang about. Understood?”

Everybody assented and Banks led the way into the dark opening.

The passageway narrowed quickly inside the entrance, so much so that after a dozen steps they had to move single file, although Kim would not let go of her grip on Maggie’s hand. Maggie led her, like mother leading child, forward in the gloom, following the light of Bank’s gun light ahead. After ten more paces, they came to a flight of worn stone steps, leading steeply downward. Banks stopped them again and they grouped tight in single file at the top of the stairwell.

“Bugger. I’d hoped to be going up into the city, not down into the hill. If anybody sees a passageway that feels fresher, shout. And if this one goes down too far, or if there are spiders ahead of us, be prepared to turn back fast. This is no place to make a stand.”

Without another word, he led them down.

Maggie had to take care with her footing, for although the gun lights illuminated the way ahead, she could barely see her ankles in the dark when she looked down. Fortunately, the steps were dry and worn enough by feet over the centuries that her feet naturally found the grooves and ruts that made descending simpler. She tripped at one point and put a hand out to steady herself, surprised to find the rock cool, cold to the touch.

The going was of necessity slower now, for they were all taking care despite the relatively easy going; none of them wanted to take a tumble down into the black depths. The only sound was the pad of their feet on stone and their breathing. The whole descent took on an air of anticipation, Maggie’s fight or flight response kicking in hard at the thought of what might be waiting ahead for them. If there had been any sudden loud sound, she might well have screamed; she certainly felt ready for it.

But Banks’ fears of going too far down into the hill proved unfounded as they only went down twenty steps before the passageway opened out again into another chamber. Given the echoes raised ahead of her, Maggie guessed that this one was of similar size to the one at the top of the stairs. Banks waved his light around and once again Kim gasped loudly.

This was a natural chamber, or rather, it had been at one time. The squad’s gun lights showed her enough to see that it had been worked into a long alleyway with evenly spaced eight feet tall cells hewn into the rock. Each cell was guarded by twin, intricately carved, pillars and each, at least the ones not covered liberally in spider web, contained hefty primitive double-stacked sarcophagi, four to a cell. They weren’t close enough to make out detail but even from the bottom of the steps, Maggie could tell that these were Roman period pieces, of similar age to the mosaic they’d found on the floor in their dig. More than that, they looked like they had lain here undisturbed since being put in place, with only the spiders for company.

“Do you see this?” Kim whispered, as if unsure whether she was awake or dreaming.

“I see it,” Maggie replied. “I’m not sure I believe it.”

Banks called for quiet. He had his gun light pointed straight ahead down the center of the room, trying to penetrate the darkness. From what Maggie could see, the rows of cells continued away into the distance in a long alley. Banks motioned that Davies should keep an eye left and for Brock to cover the right, then led them, slowly, forward.

The breeze was stronger here, cooler too, and Maggie felt it brush hair against her ears. She hardly noticed, for after a few steps she remembered she had her camera. She took as many pictures of the cells and sarcophagi as the wavering gun lights would allow to her, trying different levels of zoom. She knew the light was too dim to do the scene justice and that many of her attempts would be out of focus or too dark to be of any use.

But I have to at least try.

Around half of the cells had their entrances covered with the thick gray mats of web she was starting to come to hate but none of the stone coffins looked to have been disturbed in any way. Maggie couldn’t help but wonder what marvels they were walking past so blithely, what wonders had lay hidden in the stone all these long centuries. A find like this, undisturbed, was unprecedented, and in normal circumstances would mean years of meticulous work in her immediate future.

But these aren’t normal circumstances.

She knew there was no chance of convincing Banks to stop to let her and Kim investigate. His priorities were to get them out and home and they were priorities she agreed with for the most part. All she could do for now was record as much as was possible with the camera and hope against hope to be able to return. Her vow to make that return trip was only strengthened.

“We should… ” Kim started but Maggie stopped her.

“I know. But first we have to survive long enough to get home and tell somebody.” She held up the camera. “At least we’ll have this to show them.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It’ll have to be,” she said.

The alley of cells ran for a hundred paces, heading straight north. As they approached the far end, they noted that all of the openings were covered in web. Maggie also saw that Banks had become even more still and alert ahead of them and decided it was time to stop taking pictures and paying more attention to her own immediate safety. She stowed the camera back inside her shirt, felt Kim take her hand again and, concentrating only on the gun light ahead of them, stepped forward behind the three soldiers.

The alley led to another doorway at the far end and more steps, leading upward this time, a short run of six that brought them up into another chamber with three doorways off, to the north, east, and west. This room was empty save for a single four-foot-tall sculpture in the center, done in white marble of a naked man wearing only a peaked cap, standing tall and wielding a spear that was pointed down at the body of a large dead bull. It looked to be complete, with no cracks, no chips, no bits of anatomy missing from man or bull. Maggie knew that any museum in the world would pay a king’s ransom to have it among their exhibits.

“It’s Mithras,” Kim whispered. “God, that’s beautiful. There’s one in Paris that I’ve seen but this is in much better condition.”

“Who’s Mithras when he’s at home?” Wiggins said behind them.

“An eastern sun god the Romans, the soldiers in particular, took for their own. Statues to him have been found in forts and temples all over the empire. Men like you have been worshipping him for millennia.”

Wiggins laughed.

“Honey, there are no other men like me.”

Banks hushed their chat again and looked to Kim.

“You’ve seen maps of this place. Maggie tells me there’s an exit leading above ground in the synagogue. Any clue how we’d get there from here?”

Kim looked thoughtful, as if calculating directions and distances in her head.

“We must be under it if I’ve got it clear in my head,” she said, then pointed at the rightmost entrance. “That way is my best guess. If I’m right, it goes up toward the square and the old synagogue is at the western end.”

Banks looked to the north passage.

“The wind is coming that way though and I was inclined to follow it. But anything that gets us out will be good by me at this point. Davies, lead the way and look sharp.”

A narrow, winding corridor led upward at a gentle slope from the Mithras room and after only a few minutes brought them into another, much smaller, room. The walls were rough-hewn and solid and it felt tight and cramped when all eight of them were inside. At first, it looked like a dead end. Then Banks spoke.

“Kill your lights,” he said. The soldiers all obeyed and Maggie realized she could see their faces. Banks pointed upward and they all raised their heads, to look up what might at one time have been a chimney. Dim light came from a hole open to the sky five yards above them.

“Just as well it’s not yet full dusk or we might never have noticed,” Banks said. “Who fancies a climb?”