Dane did not say anything. They had proved that Goliath was a historical figure, but that was all. It did not prove anything about God, or life after death, or anything else. He was not selfish enough to say so, not when Kaylin needed to believe it. He stood in silence, and tried not to imagine that Melissa was looking over his shoulder.
“It’s not enough,” Bones suddenly said, raising his head to look at the others.
“What?” Meriwether asked, fixing him with a quizzical glance.
“This doesn’t answer everything. There’s got to be more somewhere.”
Dane nodded. He understood exactly what Bones was saying. He was feeling the same lack of…completeness was the only word he could think of to describe it.
“We know that this is Goliath’s sword,” Dane said. “We know how Rienzi got it. But it doesn’t explain the sword itself: how it was made, what the writing signifies.”
“Not to mention,” Bones added, “why the writing on it pointed to this location.”
“Because Goliath and his brothers are buried here,” Kaylin said, a look of bewilderment painted upon her face.
“No,” Dane said. He turned the conundrum over in his mind as he spoke. “According to the bible, David took Goliath’s sword after he slew him. The priests kept it for a while, and then David took it for himself when he needed a sword. Obviously, the Philistines recovered it some time later. Which means…”
“Which means that either the writing was etched into the sword long after Goliath was dead,” Meriwether interrupted, his face aglow with understanding, “which is unlikely, considering none of our tools could do a thing to it, or it was etched into the blade when the sword was forged.”
“Meaning that the coordinates for this location point to something else,” Dane said. By the time he had finished saying it, he was certain. There was more to be discovered.
“You’re right,” Kaylin said. “Why would you put directions to a gravesite on the sword, and then bury the sword in that same grave?” She stood and put her hands on her hips, looking around. “So what now?”
“I don’t know about you three, but right now, I’d like to find a way out of here,” Bones said. “We’ve got company,” he whispered.
CHAPTER 24
Dane turned and peered through the opening in the rock face, back in the direction from which they had come. Shadows moved stealthily across the moonlit sand. He caught a glimpse of pale light glinting off the barrel of a gun. He could not tell what type, but the length of the barrel told him all that he needed to know.
“How many?” he whispered to Bones.
“At least eight,” Bones said. “Probably more. Either way, they’ve got much more firepower than we do. “
“Should we turn out our flashlights?” Kaylin asked.
“No, then they’ll know we’ve spotted them,” Dane said. “Let them believe they’re taking us by surprise, and maybe they’ll be less cautious.” Dane hoped his voice carried more optimism than he felt.
“Who do you think they are?” Meriwether whispered, drawing his pistol, an old, Swiss-made SIG P-210, from his fanny pack.
Dane shrugged. “Probably the same guys who’ve been after us all along. Either that, or Wrexham’s got friends.”
“How would they find us?” Meriwether protested. “We’ve been so careful in every detail.” His words sounded like a statement, not a question.
“Right now, I don’t think that’s as important as how we’re going to get out of here,” Bones said, “because there’s no way we’ll be able to get back out the way we came.”
Dane knew that his friend was right. He scanned the room one last time, seeing no sign of a secondary egress. He knew what they had to do.
“Down the well,” he said, “and make it quick. Bones first, Kay next, then Meriwether.”
Bones clamped his small flashlight between his teeth, tucked his Beretta into his belt, and swung over the side into the well. The others complied without protest, although Kaylin appeared quite displeased. Cautiously, they climbed over the edge. Finding their footholds, they slowly disappeared from sight.
Dane knelt behind the well, positioned so that he could see outside. His Walther he held trained on the opening. In his left hand, he played the flashlight back and forth across the far wall of the cavern, trying to create the illusion that they were still inside looking around.
He stole a quick glance down into the well. The others had not yet reached the bottom, their flashlights bobbing far below where he stood. His heart pounded. How much longer could he wait? He wanted to cover their descent, but if one of their stalkers appeared in the doorway, Dane would have no choice but to shoot him. After that, the odds of him making it safely down to the bottom would be slim indeed.
He strained to listen for the sound of approaching footsteps. He heard nothing. Whoever these people were, they were good. They had to be close by now. He looked down the well again and thought he saw the reflection of light on the water. The others were close to the bottom. He could start his climb down.
He laid his flashlight on the ground with its beam pointed toward the coffin farthest to the right. Perhaps the intruder’s attention would be temporarily diverted from the well when they first entered the room. Tucking the Walther into his waistband at the center of his back, he climbed onto the edge of the well, all the while certain that, at any moment, an armed man was going to appear in the doorway while Dane was at his most vulnerable.
He hung his left foot over the edge, and felt for a toehold, but there was none to be found. He moved his foot in a circle against the smooth stone, seeking to gain purchase in the darkness. I should have spotted out my path before I put the flashlight down, he thought. Frustration welled up inside of him. Finally, he found a niche in the wall. Gripping the edge with both hands, he swung the other foot over and quickly found another hold. Cursing the darkness, he began a slow descent. The sword made movement awkward and he was grateful for its incredible lightness.
He had descended no more than twenty feet when he heard a shuffling above him. Someone had entered the burial chamber. The sword bounced off the back of his thigh as he went. He paused, hastily adjusted it, and then quickened his pace, wondering absently how deep the water down below was, in case he should miss a step.
The hand and footholds were set at regular intervals, and he soon fell into a rhythm. He stole a glance upward, and saw that he had covered a good fifty feet. He guessed that he was about halfway down.
He heard a clattering sound, and the faint glow above him seemed to waver. He guessed someone had kicked the flashlight. The followers had obviously proceeded with caution, thoroughly searching the cavern before declaring it empty. He wondered how long it would be before they looked into the well.
He had his answer sooner than he would have liked. A shadowed form appeared in the faint circle of light up above. Now grateful for the darkness, Dane scrambled down the wall at a pace that bordered on incaution. The figure up above moved away. Dane kept his eye on the circle that seemed to grow no smaller no matter how quickly he moved down the wall. They couldn’t be giving up, could they?
As soon as the thought entered his mind, two faces appeared above him. A gleam of dark metal, and then the sound of automatic weapons fire shattered the cloak of silence. Dane froze as the bullets ricocheted off the wall behind him and down the shaft below. Holding on tight with his left hand, he freed his Walther as a second burst of gunfire ripped along the wall, this time farther below him.
Taking aim, Dane squeezed off two shots. He heard a scream, and one of the shadows disappeared from sight. The second man, however, ripped off a long, steady stream of bullets that tore into the wall only a few feet above him. Sharp, stinging pain danced across the top of his skull as fragments of ancient stone cut into his scalp. Idiot! You gave them a target! Hoping that the others were clear of the shaft, he let go, and plunged toward the river below.