Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt 21)

“We need to move before they come looking for their friends. Let’s see if we can get around the back side of the amphitheater, for starters,” he said.

“This one is stirring,” replied one of the students, motioning toward the prone figure of Saheem.

“Leave him be,” Dirk replied. He stepped over to Sophie and handed her one of the assault rifles. “Did you serve in the Israel Defense Forces?” he asked.

“Yes, I did my two years,” she said. Israel’s mandatory military conscription also applied to women. She took the gun without hesitation.

“Can you cover our retreat?” he asked.

“I can try.”

Dirk leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Stay close to us.”

He walked over and helped Dr. Haasis to his feet. The professor’s eyes were dull and his skin pale from the shock of his wound. With help from the other male student, Dirk hauled him across the sand. With the others in tow, he led them over the amphitheater’s stage and toward the far edge of the tiered seats. Sophie followed the group a few paces behind, peering through the darkness for any approaching figures.

Gasping for breath, Dirk muscled the deadweight of Haasis to the rear of the towering structure. Nearby was a sto

rage shed that had been constructed to house concert equipment and was positioned against the side of the theater. Dirk dragged Haasis behind the shed and gently laid him on the ground. The other students and the wounded agents fell in alongside the professor as Sophie brought up the rear.

“We’ll hold up here and wait for the police to arrive,” Dirk said, finding the corner a manageable defensive position.

“Dirk, I see lights coming down the trail,” Sophie reported quietly.

They peered around the side of the shed toward a pair of faint lights that bobbed down the hill. The beams slowly made their way along the beach, accompanied by an occasional shout of a name. One of the beams sprayed upon Saheem, who had managed to stand up but was staggering about in a daze. The dead body of Mahmoud was soon discovered, amplifying a frenzied murmur of voices. One of the lights turned and fanned across the interior of the amphitheater. Dirk wrapped an arm around Sophie and jerked her back from the edge.

“Sorry,” he whispered, relaxing his grip only slightly. “They have night vision goggles.”

Sophie slipped an arm around Dirk’s torso and squeezed back. They clung to each other for a minute before Dirk attempted another peek. To his relief, both light beams were proceeding down the beach and could soon be seen bounding up the hill. A few minutes later, the faint rumble of the utility truck was heard making its way out of the park.

A wail of sirens and flashing lights arrived at the park just ten minutes later. Dirk and Sophie hiked up to the camp as a patrol of armed police with high-beamed flashlights and barking German shepherds burst down the trail. They led the police to the amphitheater, where Haasis and the injured agents were quickly evacuated by ambulance. Dirk noted with curiosity that the body of Mahmoud had disappeared, dragged up the hill by his comrades and carted off with the stolen artifacts.

After extensive questioning by the police, Dirk took a look inside the artifact tent. As he expected, all of the scroll boxes had been removed. What he didn’t expect to find were the storehouse artifacts, which were still scattered about the tables in varying states of analysis and conservation. He exited the tent to find Sophie approaching from the parking lot. Under the overhead lights, he could see her eyes were red, and she appeared to be trembling. Dirk stepped over and grabbed her hand.

“They just took Arie away,” she said, referring to agent Holder. “Shot dead over some stupid artifacts.”

“They were as apt at stealing as they were at killing. They heisted only the scrolls, didn’t even bother with the other artifacts,” he replied, nodding toward the tent.

Sophie’s face seemed to harden. “The phony antiquities agent tipped them off. The young student, Stephanie, thought he was one of the gunmen here tonight.”

“Any idea who would use such commando tactics to acquire black market antiquities?”

Sophie nodded. “I would have to suspect the Mules. A gang of Lebanese smugglers with suspected ties to Hezbollah. They’re mostly known for transporting weapons and drugs, but they’ve drifted into antiquities before. They’re the only ones I know of who would kill for artifacts.”

“I wouldn’t think those scrolls would be very easy to pawn.”

“They’ve probably already been paid for. This was likely a contract job for a wealthy collector. One who knows no bounds.”

“Catch them,” Dirk said quietly.

“For Holder’s sake, I will,” she replied firmly. She gazed at the sea for a while, then looked at Dirk with a softened expression.

“I’m not sure any of us would be alive if you hadn’t showed up on the beach.”

Dirk smiled. “I just wanted to make sure I got a second date.”

“That,” she said, standing and giving him a peck on the cheek, “I can almost guarantee.”

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