Anna stood, revealing that the group was in the rear of a truck as she clambered through to the cab. A narrow street was visible through the windshield, cars parked on both sides. A taxi went past, but there were no pedestrians in sight. ‘Nobody around. I think we’re set.’
‘Go when clear,’ Cross ordered.
The screens erupted into bewildering movement, the effect almost nauseating. Nina forced herself to focus on the view from a single camera, the name at its corner TRANT. The group moved quickly out of the van’s rear doors and ran to a nearby wall. It was higher than head height, but still proved little obstacle as they scrambled over it.
Beyond lay the expansive grounds of the Villa Torlonia. Nina knew from her research that the villa itself had once been Mussolini’s residence, commandeered by the dictator from its owners for the far-from-princely rent of one lira a year. However, the imposing building was some distance from the team’s destination: the Jewish catacombs.
The intruders dropped flat to the ground, checking their surroundings for guards. ‘All clear,’ Nina heard Simeon say. ‘Okay, we’re heading for the entrance. Stay in the trees.’
She glanced at the map. ‘Where did they come in?’
‘The south wall, off the Via Siracusa. Here.’ Cross indicated a point.
‘That’s about as far as they could get from the catacombs.’
‘It also has the lowest pedestrian traffic and surveillance coverage. I know what I’m doing.’ He watched as his people scurried through the grounds. Lights flared in the distance, illuminating the estate’s various palatial buildings; smaller ones moved between them. The torches of security guards making their rounds.
Nina found herself torn between hoping the raiders would get caught and an almost perverse involvement in the game of hide-and-seek. Simeon and Anna led the way, the others stringing out behind them as they weaved between the trees, occasionally ducking and freezing as the guards patrolled. But none of the wandering figures came close, sticking to the well-lit paths. Ever since its most famous former resident had been strung up outside a gas station, the Villa Torlonia had no longer needed high security.
‘He’s gone,’ said Simeon as another guard disappeared behind a building. ‘Move.’
Nina’s seasickness returned as the cameras jolted. She fixed her gaze back on Trant’s screen, seeing Anna and Simeon ahead of him. The couple came to a stop in a small stand of trees. ‘I can see the entrance,’ Simeon reported.
‘Got it,’ replied Cross. Two sets of fences surrounded a depression in the ground, a simple inner guardrail encircled by a taller chain-link barrier. ‘Can you climb it?’
‘Not easily, but I can see a gate.’ Simeon’s hand blocked the view from his camera as he peered through a set of compact binoculars. ‘It’s padlocked.’
‘Go through it. Watch for security, though.’
‘Got it.’ Whispered orders, then the team ran to the outer fence. Someone produced a set of bolt-cutters and snipped the padlock’s shackle. Everyone hurried through the gate, Anna closing it again behind them.
A gap in the second fence led to steps descending to the bottom of the excavation. A wrought-iron gate blocked an opening in a stone wall, but its padlock fared no better than the one above. Simeon shone a flashlight inside. A gloomy tunnel led into darkness.
‘Masks on,’ Cross ordered. The team members donned half-face respirators. ‘Move in. Start your search patterns.’
Nina looked at the catacomb map. The ancient network of tombs was spread out over seven levels, its branching paths forming a genuine labyrinth. ‘How long are you going to have them searching down there?’
‘As long as it takes,’ Cross replied.
The Fishers led the way, Trant and another man peeling off down a side passage behind them. The entire team quickly spread out into the maze, casting their flashlights over the loculi carved into the walls. The beams found dirt and debris, along with bone fragments. ‘You’re looking for symbols of menorahs,’ Cross told them. ‘They might be on the walls or the ceiling — maybe even the floor. If you see one, check the area around it with your metal detector.’ He watched the screens as the group moved deeper. ‘Whelan, slow down. You need to check the ceiling too.’
‘Sorry, Prophet,’ said one of the men. He shone his light back the way he had come. ‘It’s clear,’ he said with relief.
‘Good. We have to find the angel. We can’t leave without it.’
‘If it’s not there, what will you do?’ Nina asked.
Cross regarded her coldly. ‘It’s down there.’ He tapped his chest, his heart. ‘I know.’
‘So long as you remember what I told you,’ she muttered — just as she caught something on one of the screens. ‘Wait, there!’
‘I see it,’ said Cross. ‘Simeon, to your left.’
Simeon’s camera fixed upon a painted wall. It was decorated mostly with repeating patterns of interconnected lines and circles, but within the circles themselves were more detailed friezes. Nina saw a flower, a tree, a large tent in a desert…
And a menorah.
She glanced at Cross, to see him regarding the image of the ceremonial candlestick with almost predatory eyes. ‘Check it, now!’ he snapped.
Simeon took something from his belt. He brought it up to the wall, revealing it as a metal detector, but a much more compact and sophisticated type than those used by beachcombers. He switched it on, then swept it over the picture of the menorah. Nina heard a faint warbling through her headphones, but nothing that suggested there was anything hidden behind the cracked plaster facade. He widened his search pattern, running the detector outwards in an expanding spiral, but found nothing. ‘All right, it’s not there,’ said Cross, disappointed. ‘Keep looking.’
‘There’s another one here,’ said a man. Nina spotted a second menorah in the view of someone called Overton. This was more ornate than the first, but it soon turned out that it too concealed nothing metallic behind it.
She leaned back. ‘This could take a while. Glad I ate first.’
Cross’s impatience was plain, but he said nothing, alternately watching the video wall and checking the laptops. Nina realised that one of them was showing a tracker displaying his team’s progress through the catacomb network. They were using extremely high-tech equipment; beyond the occasional video glitch, there hadn’t been any communication dropouts, even underground. Whatever they were using, it was better than that available to civilians. Military gear? Or, considering Cross’s background, intelligence-grade?
The search continued. Lights flicked over more burial chambers; the sight of a skull amongst the dirt gave Nina a brief chill. The tunnels became narrower the deeper the team progressed. Ancient artwork still adorned the walls in places; she glimpsed images of animals, fish, people standing in temples — even something that she took to be the Ark of the Covenant.
And more menorahs. Each was checked, but the only metal found was worthless detritus. Nina took another look at the tracker. The paths that Cross’s team had taken were marked in red — but there were still many more passages yet to be explored. ‘I told you this could take a while.’
‘We’ve got the whole night,’ Cross replied.
‘And what happens when morning comes? Or if a security guard sees that the padlock’s been cut and calls the cops?’
He frowned, then spoke into his headset. ‘Everyone listen.’ The bobbing cameras all steadied as their wearers stopped. ‘We need to pick up the pace. Set your detectors to maximum gain, and sweep the tunnels as you move — if you get a reading, see if there’s a menorah painted there. We’ve got to move faster.’