The Solomon Scroll

CHAPTER 25

Addison Rhoades didn't know what was going to happen when he entered Al-Bayati's study. After the fiasco in America, his position was in danger. Al-Bayati didn't like mistakes. It made no difference that Rhoades hadn't been on the scene. He'd hired the team that had failed, so he was responsible. Just in case Al-Bayati lost control Rhoades had a Walther PPK tucked away at the small of his back, a favorite of the police since the early days of Hitler's Germany. A classic old school pistol, small, efficient and deadly. One .380 caliber round was enough to stop most people. With Al-Bayati, Addison thought it might take three or four. The pistol had served him well in the past. The hard metal pressing against the small of his back gave him comfort.

To his surprise, Al-Bayati was smiling.

"I have found the tomb," he said.

Rhoades forced himself to seem relaxed.

"You have? That's fabulous, Nazar. Where is it? How did you find it?"

"The second scroll that you retrieved in London contained a coded passage describing the location of the tomb. It's in Saudi Arabia, not far from Yemen."

"You know exactly where it is?"

"It's in an isolated location in the Habala Valley of Saudi Arabia, near Abha. The landmark described is distinctive. There's only one place like that in the country."

"That whole area is considered sensitive by the Saudis," Rhoades said. "The monarchy is worried about troublemakers out of Yemen. It's not going to be easy to get to."

"I have connections there. I can get us in."

"Us?"

"Do you think I would pass up the moment when the tomb is opened? I will be the first to enter."

"As you wish," Rhoades said.

"Yes. Prepare a team. Enough to transport whatever we find."

"We'll need equipment, weapons, vehicles."

"Make a list of what you need. Have it waiting for us when we arrive." Al-Bayati paused. "You did well in London. You failed in America. You had better hope that the Americans are unable to connect you to what happened."

"The men I picked were professional, the best in the business. The Americans were lucky. They'll never make the connection."

"That may be," Al-Bayati said. "Do not fail me again. Go. Make the arrangements. I want to leave in three days."

He waved his hand at Rhoades as if he were shooing away a fly.

Rhoades felt the Walther next to his spine, warm from his body and hard against his skin.

I'll kill him, the arrogant bastard. After we find the tomb and the gold.

As he left the room, Rhoades thought about the Americans. He hadn't been lying when he said they'd been lucky. He still didn't understand how they'd escaped. Instinct, perhaps, the instinct of the hunter who knew when he'd become the prey. Whatever the reason, there was no way they'd find their way back to him.

He turned his mind to the new task Al-Bayati had given him. Rhoades had spent time in Yemen before the fundamentalists had gained so much power. Before his career with British intelligence had gone down the tube.

The thought made him feel as though someone had wrapped his head with steel bands. He forced himself to stop and take a few breaths, to calm the flood of anger that had begun in Al-Bayati's study. His career had been ended by hypocrites. They'd supported his illegal methods, used what he'd gotten from the prisoners he interrogated to further their advancement and then pretended not to know how the information was discovered. Sometimes Rhoades fantasized about returning to England and walking into one of their exclusive meetings with enough firepower to obliterate every one of them.

Fantasy, to think about killing the key players in British government and intelligence. Al-Bayati was a different story. No government would care enough to go looking for the man who killed him. As for friends who might seek revenge, Al-Bayati had none. Business associates would see an opportunity, not a loss. Even the Iranians would simply move on.

When Rhoades left the Habala Valley there would be one more body in Solomon's tomb.