Nelson Demille - The Quest

Miriam let out a moan, but remained facedown on the ground.

Gann took a step toward her, but the soldiers leveled their rifles at him and he stopped.

Getachu said, “When I was a young man, and when this princess became a woman-about fourteen, I think-I thought of her in that way. Mikael Getachu, the son of a weaver who worked in the shop of their royal highnesses. I told my father of my desire for the princess, and he beat me, of course. But if he were now living, I would say to him-you see? I have got my princess.” Getachu put the toe of his boot under Miriam’s shamma and pushed it up over her bare buttocks.

He said something to his soldiers in Amharic, and they laughed. He said to Gann, “So we have this lady in common at least.”

Gann took a deep breath, and Purcell knew he was thinking of diving for the Uzi, and Purcell said to him, “No.”

Gann took another breath, then stood straight, as though he were in parade formation, and said to Getachu, “You are not a soldier. You are an animal.”

“Do not provoke me. You will die when and how I want you to die. And I will tell you how you will die-by crucifixion, as you watch me having sport with your lady.”

Getachu looked at Vivian, then said, “And perhaps I will have sport with you both. Yes. I think I would like seeing you, Miss Smith, and the princess enjoying the company of each other.”

Vivian was still clinging to Purcell, her body shaking.

Getachu turned his attention to Mercado, who had stood silently, his eyes closed and his head down. Getachu said to him, “Will you now tell me that you will write nice words about me?”

Mercado did not answer.

Getachu barked, “I am speaking to you! Look at me!”

Mercado raised his head and looked at Getachu.

“I will spare your life, Mr. Mercado. We will do the interviews, and you will write kind words about General Getachu, a man of the people.” He looked at Mercado. “Yes?”

Mercado stared at Getachu. “Go fuck yourself.”

Getachu seemed surprised at the response. “What do you say?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Getachu put his hand on the butt of his pistol. “What do you say, Mr. Mercado?”

Mercado said something in Amharic, and the five soldiers seemed almost stunned, and leveled their rifles at him.

Getachu waved them off, then said to Mercado, “I had planned a quick death for you, who are of no consequence. But I will rethink that.”

Mercado, recalling what Gann had done in Getachu’s tent, turned his back on the general.

Getachu looked at Mercado’s back, then shifted his attention to his surroundings. He said, “So this is the place where the Falashas and the monks come to meet, and to exchange goods.” He looked around again. “I am told this has gone on for several hundred years, which is a very nice thing.” He said to his prisoners, “I have heard of this arrangement, and I wished to see this place for myself. And now I am told that this arrangement has ended because the Falashas have gone. So I came here to bring food to the monks, and I have waited for them-and for you, who I hoped would come here.” He looked down at Miriam. “She is a stubborn woman, Colonel. But she did reveal to me the location of this place, but not to you, I think, or you would have been here much sooner.” He let them know, “I have been waiting for you for six days now, and I had given up hope. But the princess has been kind enough to keep me amused.”

Again, Purcell thought that Gann would go for the Uzi, and he knew that Getachu had left it lying close to Gann to further torment the man.

In fact, Getachu said, “Why is it that none of you brave men will take up that weapon?” He asked, “Is that not a better way to die? Please, gentlemen. Show me your courage.”

Purcell moved slightly so that Vivian was blocking Getachu’s view of his right arm, and he began to move his hand toward the cargo pocket. He was sure he could kill Getachu, and he hoped that Gann would then dive for the Uzi-or if he didn’t, and Purcell was not dead yet, he could go for it himself, and maybe get off a burst. But whatever scenario played out, he, Vivian, Gann, and Mercado would be cut down by bursts of automatic rifle fire. And that was better than what Getachu had planned. He put his hand on Vivian’s thigh, close to his cargo pocket.

Getachu also let them know, “When I am finished with you here, I will find the monastery of the monks, which I know is close by, and I will relieve these holy men of their treasure-and perhaps their lives.” He said, “Men have died to protect this thing called the Grail, and men have died looking for it-as you will. You have found death.”

Purcell could hear Vivian saying softly, “No, no, no… Frank.”

He held her tighter.

Getachu turned his attention to Miriam and pressed his boot into her bare buttocks. She sobbed and said something in Amharic.

Getachu said to her, “Do not be sad, my princess. I will take care of you. Are you sad at losing your English lover? Do you want to speak to him? To tell him that you betrayed him? He will understand. You were in pain. He will understand that pain very shortly. And he will forgive you, because he will understand what pain can do.”

Purcell had his hand in his pocket now, and he wrapped his fingers around the butt of the revolver. No one noticed. He hoped he’d live long enough to see Getachu bleeding his life out.

Gann suddenly let out a strange noise, and Purcell glanced at him. Gann had his hands over his face, and he was crying, and his body was shaking. He called out, “Miriam! Miriam!”

She turned her head toward him and said softly, “Edmund… I am sorry…”

Gann reached out his arms to her and took three long steps toward Miriam, and almost reached her, but two soldiers grabbed him and pushed him back. He struggled with them, and kept shouting, “Miriam!”

Purcell understood instantly that Gann was up to something, and Purcell knew this was the moment. He pulled his revolver. Then something suddenly flew through the air and came to rest on the ground, and Purcell saw it was the safety handle of a hand grenade. And he realized what Gann had done.

Getachu was screaming in Amharic at his two men, and he didn’t see the grenade in Gann’s hand that Gann had pulled from one of the soldier’s web belts, and he also didn’t see Gann dropping the live grenade on the ground.

The seven-second fuse had been cooking for at least three or four seconds, Purcell knew, and he should have thrown himself and Vivian on the ground and yelled for Mercado to do the same. But he wanted to kill Getachu himself. He pushed Vivian to the ground, facedown, raised the revolver, and pointed it directly at Getachu’s heart.

Getachu saw two things in a quick succession-the grenade, and Purcell taking aim at him. His eyes widened.

Purcell fired, and Getachu was knocked back into the stone wall of the hut.

Purcell threw himself on top of Vivian, who was trying to stand, and he yelled at Mercado, “Down!”

The grenade exploded.

The sound was literally deafening, and Purcell’s eardrums felt as though they were going to burst. The ground shook under him.

And then there was complete silence. He felt a burning in his right calf where a piece of hot shrapnel had sliced into him. He whispered in Vivian’s ear, “Do not move.” He told her, “Getachu is dead.” But he wasn’t sure of that.

He rolled off her quickly and rose unsteadily to one knee, with his revolver pointed toward the hut.

No one was standing.

He stood and drew a deep breath, then took a few steps toward the hut. The air was filled with dust and the smell of burned explosives.

The two soldiers who’d been grappling with Gann were gushing blood from multiple wounds where the burning shrapnel had torn into their bodies.