The Solomon Scroll

CHAPTER 53

The door was heavy, thick, like a bank vault door. Beyond it, a flight of stairs descended to a passage below. Yellow light flickered from somewhere beyond.

"Kind of overkill for a house door," Lamont said. "It looks like it belongs in a bank."

"Soundproof," Selena said. "You could set off a bomb behind that and no one would hear it."

Nick rubbed his ear. "If Al-Bayati is down there, he might not know we're here. I don't think he could have heard the guns."

A stale odor hung in the air.

"What's that smell?" Selena said.

Ronnie sniffed. "Fire. Something else."

"Like someone's been barbecuing," Lamont said.

They went down the stairs without seeing anyone. The light grew brighter as they neared the bottom. A short hallway led from the last step into a large room. It took a few seconds for Nick to realize what he was looking at. When the meaning sank in he knew he would carry the sight with him for the rest of his life.

The room was lit with tall wax candles. Fire leapt from a large, round brazier of black iron mounted on a tripod. The floor of the chamber was made of polished cedar. The flames from the brazier and the candles filled the room with a fiery glow. Beyond the brazier was a fat, gilded statue depicting a standing horned god with an erect phallus. He had the body of a man and the head of a bull. The animal face was contorted with a terrible smile. The arms were held out on the other side of the flaming brazier, with the palms up and the hands slanted down.

Al-Bayati stood to the side of the flames, his back toward them. He was dressed in a floor length robe of deep blue. A shawl of the same material covered his head. His hands were raised in supplication toward the statue and he was chanting, the words like snakes slithering through dry grass. On his left hand he wore the ring of Solomon. In his right he held a bundle of herbs.

Next to Al-Bayati was the ugly man, Badr. Neither of the two had seen them. Nick would have shot them both from where he stood except that Badr held a child in his arms, a girl of about nine or ten years. Her body was limp, unconscious. Her hair hung perilously close to the flames.

Selena grasped Nick's arm. "That's Moloch. They're going to sacrifice that child to Moloch."

At the sound of her voice, Al-Bayati and Badr turned toward them. Bayati's face was strangely calm. He smiled and threw the bundle of herbs onto the brazier. A cloud of black and white smoke rose like a poisonous mushroom, releasing a thick, sweet scent.

His eyes glittered.

"He's stoned out of his mind," Lamont said.

"Carter," Al-Bayati said. "I wouldn't come any closer if I were you."

Nick gestured with his MP5. "Away from the fire. You too, big man."

"Take a step and the child dies," Al-Bayati said. "Badr."

Badr handed the girl to him. Al-Bayati moved close and held the child over the hands of the idol.

"It's simple," he said. "I put the child into the hands of the god and she slides off into the flames. The body contracts and creates the most wonderful smile as he welcomes her."

"You're sick," Nick said.

Bayati's expression changed. "I am the high priest of Moloch, as my ancestors have been before me for centuries. Even Solomon built a Temple to him when he recognized his power. Be careful how you speak in the presence of the god."

Ronnie was moving slowly to the side. Badr watched him.

"Did Solomon use that ring when he built it?" Selena asked.

She was trying to buy time. Nick couldn't see how he could get the child away from Al-Bayati before the girl went into the fire.

"You begin to understand. Yes, he invoked the jinn to help him."

"I would like to see that," Selena said, "the jinn."

"Oh, I doubt that. Besides, they seldom make themselves visible in our dimension."

"You've seen them. Tell me, what do they look like?"

For the first time, Al-Bayati seemed uncertain.

"They have not yet chosen to appear for me. After the sacrifice they will come."

"They only come if they are summoned by the ring," Selena said. "It won't work if you don't pronounce the incantations correctly."

"How would you know about these things?"

"Don't you know who I am? I'm an expert in these languages. I may be the only person alive who can speak them with the right inflection. Just now you were chanting in one of the Western Punic dialects from ancient Carthage. I could tell that it wasn't right."

Al-Bayati's eyes widened. "A guess."

"No."

"Tell your man to stop moving or the child dies."

"Ronnie, stop," Nick said.

Ronnie froze.

Badr smiled through his rotten teeth. His eyes were all pupil, black in the firelight.

He's stoned too, Nick thought.

"They'll never come unless you use the right words," Selena said.

"Then you will help me call them," Al-Bayati said. "If they appear, the child will live. If you fail, she dies. As will you and your friends."

He's lying, she thought.

"Give me your oath as the high priest of Moloch that you will keep your word."

"I swear," Al-Bayati said. "And you must swear to obey me. Do as I say or I give the girl to the god."

"I swear it."

"Selena…"

"Nick, I want to see the jinn. I'll never have another chance."

"Are you nuts?" Lamont said.

"Woman, come here. Badr, watch them."

Badr went to a carved wooden cabinet set to the side of the statue. He took out a Skorpion machine pistol and pointed it at them. Selena began walking toward the idol.

Nick didn't believe for a second that she wanted to see the jinn. What mattered was that Al-Bayati in his drugged state believed it. There would only be one chance to save the child. His ear began to itch with a fierce burning sensation.

"Where are the writings?" Selena asked.

"In a drawer on the top of the cabinet. Be careful, woman. Moloch's hands are slippery."

"If you drop her I won't help you call the jinn."

Al-Bayati watched as she opened the drawer and took out a piece of yellowed vellum covered with writing in black ink. It was in a language she had never seen. She glanced over at Nick and saw him catch the look. It was now or never.

"Begin," Al-Bayati commanded.

Selena held the parchment up as if to start reading. With a sudden motion she threw it into the fire. The vellum burst into a flare of bright yellow flame. Before Al-Bayati could react she knocked the girl out of his hands and body slammed him into the brazier. He went down on the floor as the brazier toppled over, showering him with red hot coals. He screamed as they struck his face. His robe caught fire.

Nick, Ronnie and Lamont opened fire at Badr. A dozen rounds staggered him. He crumpled to the floor.

Al-Bayati writhed on the floor, screaming, his robe burning. He struggled to his feet, enveloped in flame. He stumbled into the golden idol and fell to the floor. The screams were horrible.

Nick shot him. The screaming stopped. The room filled with the stench of burning flesh as the robe smoldered.

"I guess that's what you call poetic justice," Lamont said.

Ronnie went over to the body and took a bandanna from his pocket. He pulled Solomon's ring off Al-Bayati's dead finger, wiped it clean and wrapped the cloth around it.

"Here." He gave it to Nick.

Selena knelt by the girl and picked her up. She stirred, unconscious.

"She's drugged and took a hit from the floor when I knocked her out of his hands. I think she's all right."

"We'll take her with us," Nick said.

"Could you really understand what Al-Bayati was saying?" Ronnie asked Selena. "When he was chanting?"

"Not a word. I haven't a clue."

The wood floor began to burn where the coals had fallen on it. Nick tried the comm link. "There's no signal down here. Come on."

They went back upstairs. Nick tried again.

"Nick. What's happening?" Elizabeth's voice was tense.

"We're inside Bayati's villa. We have the ring and Bayati's dead. Where's our ride?"

"Offshore, waiting for your signal."

"Send him in."

Selena went to the door and listened.

"Nick. I hear people shouting."

"Director, we may have a problem outside. How soon will that chopper be here?"

"I just signaled, they're on the way. Five minutes, no more."

"Tell him to land in the courtyard in front of the villa. Tell him he might take hostile fire."

"Copy that."

"Tell him we'll give him covering fire if he needs it."

"Nick, those are civilians out there."

"I don't think so," Nick said. "This is Hezbollah territory and nobody gives a damn about what happens to Al-Bayati except them. Anyone out there is hostile."

"Be sure about that before you start shooting."

"Out," Nick said. He broke the connection.

"She has a point," Selena said.

"They don't shoot at us, we won't shoot at them. Whatever we do, they'll lie about it."

He took the bar from the front door. They could hear the shouts getting louder.

"It sounds like they're on the other side of the gate," Ronnie said.

He cracked open the door and looked through the opening. A burst of automatic fire sent splinters from the frame. Ronnie shut the door.

"Not civilians."

"I figured that out," Nick said. "That makes things easier. You know how to run that Quad .50?"

"Nope."

"I do," Lamont said. "We still had a few on riverboats in the Seals."

"I'm thinking that when our ride arrives we use it to discourage the crowd until we can get out of here."

"There are supposed to be two loaders and a gunner on that unit," Lamont said. "Each of those magazines holds two hundred rounds. They disappear pretty quick once the shooting starts. We don't even know if it's loaded."

"It's a chance we have to take. I don't think Al-Bayati would have it there just for show."

"I hope they kept the batteries charged."

"You won't be on it long. One burst from that and we won't have to worry about that crowd. We just need enough time to let the chopper pick us up."

"Better let him know what we're doing. I don't want someone in that bird to think I'm one of the bad guys."

Nick called Harker.

"ETA in three minutes, Nick."

"Director, we're going to have to shoot our way out of here." He looked at the ceiling. "I hear the bird coming," Nick said. "We're going to be busy for the next few minutes."

"I'm switching you over to the helicopter now. Your call sign is Delta One."

"Copy that."

A new voice came on line.

"Delta One, this is Blazer. Looks like you have a problem."

"Blazer, Delta One. You see that Quad .50 in the courtyard?"

"Copy that. I have it locked in."

"Negative, Blazer. Do not take it out. Do not take it out. We need it to disperse the hostiles."

"Copy," the pilot said. "Ready when you are, One."

"We're coming out the front door now. There are four of us and a child."

"Copy that."

"Lamont, we'll lay down fire while you get to the gun. It's only about twenty feet. Clear that gate."

"I'm a little slow," Lamont said. "Y'all have to run interference for me."

Nick patted his MP5. "That's what we've got these for. We'll go in front of you and keep them busy. Once we get to the half track it will give us cover. Selena, you take the girl."

He stood by the entrance. "Ready? Let's do it."

Nick pulled open the door. Someone started shooting at the front of the house, the bullets making small craters in the whitewashed stucco wall of the villa. They ran toward the half track, firing toward the gate. Lamont clambered up onto the seat of the Quad .50, settling in behind an armored shield that protected the lower part of his body. Two more flat plates added protection to each side of the sight. If someone put a round between them he was a dead man. Jacketed bullets rang off the steel armor like hard rain. Lamont flipped the red guard over the activating switch and whispered a quick prayer for charged batteries.

The Quad .50 had been designed as a mobile antiaircraft gun in World War II. No longer useful against modern jet aircraft, it had been reborn as an antipersonnel weapon in the European and Pacific theaters. In Vietnam the guns had been mounted on patrol boats moving up and down the Mekong.

The weapon was mounted on a swivel base, controlled by two handles in front of the gunner. Pushing forward on both brought the four barrels down and pulling back took them up. Pushing the left handle forward rotated the gun clockwise. Pushing on the right handle turned it to the left. Lamont pushed forward, swiveled left and brought the guns to bear on the gate.

He fired. The air filled with smoke and a cloud of empty cases flying into the air.

The noise of four .50 caliber Browning machine guns firing at once was beyond deafening. The heavy bullets shattered against the metal grill work, knocking off pieces of iron and shredding the Hezbollah soldiers on the other side. It tore them apart, filling the air with blood and pieces of flesh. The weapon had earned the nickname of the "meat chopper" in World War II. Lamont watched what the gun did to the people beyond the gate and understood why.

The ammunition drums emptied and the gun stopped. Hundreds of empty shells littered the stones. The air stank of cordite. A haze of smoke hung over the courtyard.

The others were already climbing on board the helicopter. Nick and Ronnie grabbed Lamont's arms and pulled him into the bay as the pilot lifted away. He looked down at the destruction he had caused and the shattered bodies lying in the street on the other side of the gate. His coffee colored skin was pale.

"That's one bad ass weapon," he said. "I never want to use one again."

The helicopter banked out over the blue Mediterranean and headed for safety.

Behind them, flames broke through the roof of Al-Bayati's villa.