James Becker - The Messiah Secret

‘I’ve broken the end off,’ he said, ‘but now I can see that a hole was cut through the stone and this wedge driven into it.’

Bronson repositioned the chisel in the centre of the mark and hit it again. This time, very few chips of stone flew out, but the whole lump of stone that had been driven into the hole moved slightly inwards.

‘That’s more like it!’ he said triumphantly. He drew back the hammer and hit it again.

The chisel travelled almost all the way through the hole as the stone wedge vanished from sight. There was a hollow thud as it landed on the floor of the cave somewhere on the inside of the stone door.

‘Brilliant, Chris,’ Angela said, as he stepped back.

‘That looks like another one,’ Masters said, pointing at a spot about three feet off the ground and directly below the hole where Bronson had shifted the first stone wedge.

‘I’ll do it,’ Cross said, taking the hammer and chisel.

Bronson moved back to where Angela stood watching, when a sudden thought occurred to him.

‘Just a moment.’ He picked up his rucksack and pulled out a torch then walked across to the hole he’d revealed and shone the light inside the hidden chamber.

‘What can you see?’ Angela demanded.

‘Nothing very much,’ Bronson replied, ‘except maybe the stone of the wall opposite. But that wasn’t what I was looking for.’

‘So what were you checking out?’ Masters asked.

‘The hole itself,’ Bronson replied, turning away from the wall. ‘It’s tapered. It’s wider on the inside than the outside of the door.’

‘So?’ Masters asked.

But Angela had already grasped what he meant. ‘So you mean the stone wedges-’

‘Exactly,’ Bronson said. ‘The holes taper from the inside to the outside, so they must have been put in place from within the tomb itself. Unless there’s another way out of there, whoever drove those wedges into place is still in there, on the other side of that wall.’

‘Oh, God,’ Angela muttered, and even Masters looked a little pale.

‘Yeah, well, he’ll just be another stiff, won’t he?’ Cross muttered, and with a massive single blow of the hammer drove the second wedge completely through the door.

Immediately the whole stone wall shifted very slightly, a movement they heard rather than saw.

‘Looks like we could have lift-off,’ Cross said. He dropped the hammer and chisel and picked up the crowbar again. He slid one end into the hole he’d found before, and pulled as hard as he could on the other end. This time, the massive stone door moved perhaps half an inch to the right.

Cross changed the position of the crowbar slightly and pulled again. Within fifteen minutes, the three of them — Cross, Masters and Bronson — had moved the door as far as it would go to the right, so that the top edge was resting against another block of stone.

Masters glanced at Bronson and Angela. ‘Your privilege, if you want it,’ he said. ‘You’ve earned it.’

‘What about me?’ Donovan called out angrily from behind them.

‘You can wait your goddamned turn,’ Masters snapped.

‘Let me go first,’ Bronson said. He picked up his torch and stepped forward. But before he entered, he bent down and looked down at the channel in the stone floor that had been exposed by sliding the door over to one side.

‘I was right,’ he said. ‘They used stone rollers.’ Then he straightened up and walked into the inner chamber.

For perhaps two or three minutes the others watched the beam of the torch dancing around the inner chamber, fitfully illuminating the walls and floor and an oblong stone shape. Then Bronson reappeared.

‘It’s safe,’ he said, ‘and there’s at least one really old corpse in there, though he’s just bones and rags. We’ll need as much light as possible.’

Masters grabbed a couple of torches and followed Bronson and Angela inside.

All three of them paused just inside the inner chamber and looked around them.

‘Did you touch anything?’ Angela asked, sending the beam of her torch travelling around the small room.

‘Apart from the corpse, nothing at all.’

Directly in front of them was an oblong stone structure, the top made of large flat stone slabs, the sides from smaller, cubical stones, the whole thing standing about three feet tall, four feet wide and eight feet long, and at first sight apparently devoid of markings or decoration. But Bronson had spotted something.

‘There’s a mark on the middle slab,’ he said.

Angela walked forward to the stone structure, shining a torch directly at the carving. ‘It looks to me like an early Tibetan script, and I think the letters are probably Y and A.’

‘Yus Asaph,’ Bronson murmured.

But it wasn’t the marking on the slab that was holding anyone’s attention. At the foot of the structure, in what looked like the foetal position, lay the crumbling bones of a skeleton clad in a few wisps of cloth.

‘I think,’ Bronson said, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent room, ‘that he might have died on his knees and then fallen sideways.’

‘In prayer, you mean?’ Angela asked in a whisper.

‘Maybe.’

‘You think that’s what’s left of the guy who sealed the door?’ Masters asked.

Bronson nodded. ‘The bones are really fragile. I touched one of them and it just crumbled away to nothing.’

‘And what we’re looking for is in that stone thing at the back? The thing that looks a bit like a big altar?’

‘Probably,’ Angela said, sounding oddly subdued.

‘Right, then,’ Masters said briskly. ‘You can bet the Indian Army will be heading this way pretty soon, so we’d best get on with it. I’ll get Cross in here, and I suppose Donovan as well. After all, he paid for this little adventure.’

With Cross and Masters doing the shifting, removing the stone slabs from the top of the altar-like structure didn’t take long.

When the last one had been lifted off and stacked against the wall, they all stepped forward and peered into the cavity. As well as Bronson and Angela, Masters had allowed both Donovan and Killian to witness what he called ‘the unveiling’.

The stone cavity appeared to be just that, three low stone walls abutting the back wall of the inner chamber, and inside it was a large wooden box, much bigger than a conventional coffin.

‘Come on, then, get it open,’ Donovan demanded, some of his old bravado reasserting itself now he was no longer facing the direct threat of Bronson’s pistol.

Killian opened his mouth to say something, but noticed Cross watching him closely, and changed his mind.

‘I don’t think we should be doing this,’ Angela said suddenly.

‘Why not?’ Bronson asked.

‘I don’t mean we shouldn’t do it at all. It’s just that I think this should be done under controlled conditions, in a museum or laboratory somewhere.’

‘Not an option,’ Donovan snapped. ‘We’re in the middle of Kashmir. The sort of facilities you’re talking about don’t exist anywhere within a couple of hundred miles of here, and there might not be any even as close as that.’

‘But we don’t know what’s inside that box-’ Angela began.

‘I do,’ Donovan said. ‘A multi-billion-dollar resource for the genetics industry.’

‘All you can think about is money, about how you can exploit this situation for your own personal gain,’ Killian shouted, unable to keep silent any longer.

Cross waved his pistol again threateningly, and Killian lapsed into silence once more.

Masters looked at the tomb, then nodded, as if he’d just made a decision.

‘I’m not coming back here,’ he said, ‘and nor are my men, so we need to find out what the hell is inside this, and then leave. And, Donovan, if it’s what you believe it is, then we’ll be taking charge of it until you make the final payment. And the price has just gone up. If this really is a billion-dollar resource, like you just said, then I’m charging you five million for delivery, plus expenses.’