Beneath the Pyramids

By Michael Goulding

The long-awaited third story featuring Connor Tremayne. He is instructed to find a location said to have been left by our predecessors for the human race to discover when we have evolved sufficiently as a species to understand and use the knowledge they have bequeathed to us. Such a place has been speculated to exist for many years, and has become popularly known and written about as the fabled 'Hall Of Records'. And to find it, Connor must go beneath the Giza Plateau in Egypt. upon which the Pyramids were built.

It is a journey of discovery that is about to change his entire life...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Goulding
• Release date: Apr 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386693277

Michael Goulding

The late Michael Goulding was a full-time writer and freelance journalist, who spent his early career in IT Sales and Marketing. After studying at Technical College and later the Open University, he qualified with a Business Studies Degree and a BA in Psychology and began work in the 1960's during the formative years of the emerging IT industry, becoming a professional Systems Analyst and later an IT consultant He spent time in both England and the U.S.A. working with some of the leading British and American pioneering computer Companies: including NCR Limited, Honeywell Information Systems and the Digital Equipment Corporation of Maynard, Massachusetts. Changing direction by moving into the Retail Licensed Trade in the UK and overseas, he worked initially in District Management with a major British brewery and later managed traditional inns in England for over ten years before gaining qualifications as a Trainer’s Trainer with the Hotel and Catering Industry Training Board. His first, full-length non-fiction book: "The British Pub Guide", sold well throughout the United Kingdom. His first novel, "Legacy of the Sphinx", attracted much attention due to the basis of its plot: the age-old mystery surrounding Moses, the Ark of the Covenant and its disappearance shortly after the reign of Solomon at the turn of the first Century BC. The novel has long been available on Amazon Kindle where it remained in the Top 100 Romantic Thrillers for more than two years. A follow-up to this story was also published by Kindle entitled "Angel of Death", which in 2012, also entered the Kindle Top 100 Romantic and Suspense Fiction charts where it remained for several further years The principal character in both books is Connor Tremayne, a disillusioned former Jesuit and professional assassin with a clandestine, Church-controlled organization formed originally within the Vatican but now headquartered on the eastern seaboard of the United States. In December, 2012, Kindle released a compilation of Michael’s original Ghost & Horror stories published in the “honorable tradition of Weird Tales” and entitled: "Shades of Darkness". And in 2013 he published his first crime thriller: a murder mystery entitled "Lovers and Other Strangers".  He passed away in November 2020.

Book preview

DEDICATION

To my children, Martin, Michael and Serena, my children’s children and their descendants, in the hope that one day they or their genes will be counted among those who travel to the stars.

Please note that in Beneath the Pyramids references are made to the Egyptian Government and its excellent Department of Antiquities, including a very well-known person: Dr. Zahi Hawass, for a long-time responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of the Giza Plateau and its treasures, Under Secretary of State and Director-General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities.  Dr. Hawass must be considered one of the leading Egyptologists and Archaeologists of the 20th century; and whilst speculation continues to exist regarding the origin and possible meaning of the Pyramids and the Great Sphinx, his work involving and surrounding these ancient monuments, their investigation and preservation together with his professional conduct, has always been of the highest possible integrity. All the events described in the story are entirely fictitious and any resemblances to any person living or dead, including Dr. Hawass and any past or present Israeli politicians are entirely fictional.

THE STORY

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What mysteries lie in wait for us to discover beneath the Pyramids and the Great Sphinx we do not know. Nor do we know the original purpose of these great monuments including how they were built and who built them. For this reason, the theme of our story is necessarily a speculative one, and the story supposes that hidden somewhere beneath the Giza Plateau in Lower Egypt in the long distant past is a legacy left by our predecessors to find when our evolution reaches a stage at which we can recognise and use the knowledge it gives us.

Beneath the Pyramids embodies both the very latest historical and scientific research regarding Moses and the ancient monuments themselves, plus recently discovered, strictly factual science relating to the structure of matter, reality and our perception of it. It also reflects the problems and dilemma faced by modern-day Israel told through the eyes of the leading characters, Connor Tremayne and Rebecca Diamond, a war widow and a leading member of the Israeli Parliament based in the Knesset, with whom he falls in love.

Chapter One

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He stood on the edge of what looked like a deep pit plunging vertically down into the blackness. Tall, broad in the shoulder and of medium build, Connor Tremayne was aware that any access to the complex maze of diggings beneath the Giza Plateau would be dangerous for a man of his stature.

He had left no evidence of his unlawful entry into the shaft back on the surface above, the entrance to which had been blocked by the Egyptians to prevent any trespass. No further excavations were planned to his knowledge and he had told no one where he was going. If something untoward were to happen to him from here on downwards, he could find himself in serious difficulties and without any hope of rescue. His cell phone was of no assistance to him below the solid rock of the Plateau and the opening he now faced was little more than a few feet across. If it narrowed at any point he could find himself unable to turn around and come back up again.

First excavated in the 1930’s, the shaft above which he stood, consisted of three levels of underground chambers, one below the other in a vertical tier, each level being connected by a descending passage. Situated beneath the long causeway running between the Great Sphinx and the middle pyramid of Chephren, the bottom chamber lay more than a hundred feet below him. He had already clambered down one succession of metal rungs to reach the first underground level, and walked through several hundred feet of cave, bent double to pass under a huge overhang until he had eventually arrived at the second descent.

The darkness was absolute, almost impenetrable even for the device he was carrying – an example of Mag-light technology at its finest – utterly reliable, almost indestructible and the last word in portable illumination. A further problem was that the lack of oxygen in the stale air rising from the depths below, smelled like polluted river water and was already making breathing difficult. His light revealed that he was now faced with not one, but two metal ladders affixed to the sheer wall of the shaft. Why there should be two, he could only guess – perhaps two provided some small added margin of security.

Ignoring the twin dangers of becoming trapped in a bottleneck lower down and dying of asphyxiation, he prepared to continue with his descent. He turned around and placing the flashlight between his teeth, sank to his hands and knees and put a single cautious foot down backwards onto the first rung of one of the ladders. It slipped! The metal seemed to be moist from the humidity and so after withdrawing and pausing for a moment, he tried once more – this time even more cautiously, testing his full weight on the first slippery rung before going any further. He then proceeded on downwards taking one rung at a time in the same way, gripping the ladder tightly and thus making slow but steady progress, flashing his light before him as he went until finally, he could step off and move away.

He found himself in a second chamber, more substantial than the last one. He walked slowly across its floor in utter silence, the only noise being the soft scuttle of what looked like small pieces of bone under his feet. He passed through into a smaller sub-chamber, in which he now found the descent down to a third level, accessed by yet another ladder. He bent until he was close enough to see that this next one was not even affixed to the shaft wall, but had been left leaning precariously against it. His mood, already tense, took on a further shade of doubt about his decision to explore the shaft, as he reviewed his reasons for being here.

Chapter Two

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In the Knesset in lsrael the slight figure of a young woman rose to her feet. She was in was in her early thirties, elegant, immaculately groomed, and feminine in appearance but with the bearing and presence of a high-born Jewish woman, who had made the most of her figure and outstanding looks.

Yet, she was someone who had done so in an understated way, remindful of a modest person rather than a boastful one. With her long black hair secured off her shoulders by means of an ebony fastening, and matching dark eyes, had she not been a politician, her East-European beauty would probably have guaranteed her success in any other career she chose.

She removed the spectacles she was wearing not with a flourish, but with meaningful reserve, and looked around slowly, her eyes sweeping every part of the crowded assembly. The gesture, usually designed to capture attention, was unnecessary in this case, her entire audience being rapt, utterly silent and expectant. That the event was to be something special, was clear even before her strong, firm voice cut through the quiet of the room.

‘Does anyone listening to me, remember Dunkirk?’

Total silence prevailed.

‘Of course, many of you here today do remember. For those of you who do not, but will undoubtedly have read of it, let me point out something to you. This was part of a battle fought so that some countries might have the right to live as they wish, free from subjugation and in peace. The engagement took place seventy-five years ago – a lifetime for most of us – and I remind you of it today because for an entire lifetime, our beloved country has been permanently and unceasingly at war.’

Not a cough, not a single shuffle of a foot even, nor any movement whatsoever, ensued.

‘In nineteen forty-eight, a single day before the British mandate governing Palestine expired, the State of Israel was declared. Shortly thereafter, Egypt, Syria, Jordan, the Lebanon and Iraq attacked us, without formal notice and without warning. Our people were shot, bombed, maimed and killed. We fought, and eventually, a ceasefire was won, following which our borders were re-drawn – entirely without our agreement or consent. Jordan then took the West Bank away from us including Jerusalem; and Egypt annexed Gaza. A lifetime ago, our people were then forcibly expelled from wherever had been arbitrarily determined to be exclusively Arab territory – and the remainder was left to be occupied by the newly created independent State of Israel.’

Following this riveting and controversial opening, the speaker paused to search out the eyes of every person in the audience, thus allowing the facts she had outlined, to resonate in their minds; and when she resumed had raised her voice just enough to ensure that the international audience who would be watching and listening to the broadcast, would hear more clearly every word of what she had to say. Strong and clear, her words rang out in impeccable English.

‘It was a very British decision. They washed their hands of the situation; washed their hands of Israel and left the stage. And for almost eighty years – I repeat, for EIGHTY YEARS we have been denied our national right to peace and prosperity.’ She paused again.

‘So, I ask you . . . where are they now, those nations who fought at Dunkirk for the same principles of freedom?’

The question reverberated around the assembly as she replaced her spectacles and her gaze swept around the entire audience once again, challenging them to answer the question for themselves. And during the whole of that time, a pencil could have been dropped to the floor during the packed assembly, and the sound would have been heard at both ends of the room. During which utter silence, Rebecca Diamond turned to look around theatrically to the rear and to the sides of her, before raising her voice yet again.

‘I will tell you where they are, shall I?’ They are nowhere to be found! They have disappeared like the mirage of an oasis in one of our deserts.’

There was an uncomfortable shuffling of feet among the audience, many of whom were well-known faces, some of them international icons.

‘And throughout the whole of the seventy-five years since they fought at Dunkirk for freedom and democracy, Israel’s legitimate existence as a nation has NEVER been recognised by those of our neighbours who attack us every single day, including yesterday, when more of our brave soldiers were murdered. Our beloved country has fought TWELVE wars – not for our beliefs, but for our very survival! We have endured bombings, assassinations and the murders of our innocent men, women and children, for DECADES! Israel is an oppressed nation at undeclared war with every one of the countries who first attacked us all those years ago; so . . . let me ask you another question.’ She nodded her head individually at members of the audience sitting just below her at the front of the Assembly, many of whom were well-known to the public, some of them international icons.

‘You . . . or you . . .’ she demanded, looking down at them. ‘You were there . . . so I now ask you, how many of those same nations . . . No!’ She corrected herself. ‘I will make this easier for you! What SINGLE NATION state in the entire world today would endure such an assault on their freedom and security, not for seventy-five years, but for SEVENTY-EIGHT DAYS without fighting back?’

She glared down at them individually, walking along the platform, challenging each of them to give her a reply. ‘Could I have an answer, please?’ She returned to her position, looked out and appealed to the entire audience. ‘Is there a country you know of who would do nothing while it is shelled by rocket fire, its citizens killed or maimed, their soldiers murdered when they try to defend themselves? ANYONE?’ she called out.

Her voice echoed throughout the packed room to no avail, and when she continued her face had become a mask of anger.

‘Our oppressors train and despatch killers, infiltrate our borders, execute women and children on our own streets and when we fight back, we are accused of being the aggressor! THE AGGRESSOR?’ she called out again to the packed audience. ‘Am I ASLEEP? Is this a bad dream?’  Is it A NIGHTMARE?’

She snarled at them. ‘NO! It is not some figment of my imagination. These murdering terrorists represent governments whose disgusting atrocities and breach of basic human rights go unreported and unspoken of . . . every single DAY! She paused. ‘AND WE LET THEM DO THIS? ARE WE MAD?’

The very air seemed to vibrate because of her outburst; and in the brief time that her speech had been in progress, word seemed to have spread outside of the packed assembly, that something extraordinary was taking place within. Security had been brushed aside, and when it had formerly appeared to be impossible to fit any other persons to fit into the room, there were now many more, filling the aisles and pressed up against the walls. Hundreds of pairs of eyes and lenses fixed upon her, hungry for more of what she had to say. The sound of a mouse had there been one, could have been heard creeping across the floor of the packed room.

‘So . . . what advice do these freedom fighters who fought at Dunkirk have for us?’ she asked, eventually. ‘What do they say to us? What are we to do?’ She visibly straightened. ‘I WILL TELL YOU WHAT THEY SAY, SHALL I?’ she thundered.

‘And for those of you who do not speak their languages, allow me to translate. Here is the invaluable advice given to us by

those who once fought for freedom and democracy: They say, ‘STOP FIGHTING! They say, DO NOT DEFEND YOURSELVES! They say, PUT YOUR WEAPONS AWAY! They say DO NOTHING while your enemies continue to bomb your people and your cities from within their own schools and hospitals! DO NOTHING when they fill those same hospitals and schools with their own women and children! DO NOTHING while they violate your borders, dig under your soil and murder your soldiers! DO NOTHING while they compromise your resistance and wear down your resolve so that you can more easily be exterminated!’

When she paused once again, it was as if the very air within the building had withheld its oxygen, and everyone present seemed to feel obliged to take in needful breaths, until eventually Rebecca Diamond called out at the top of her voice, this time to the entire assembly yet again:

‘THEY ARE SPEAKING TO US OF GOVERNMENTS WHO HAVE GIVEN US THEIR SACRED WORD – HAVE SWORN ON THEIR VERSION OF THE BIBLE THAT THEY WILL WIPE US OUT!’

She removed her spectacles once again, and her eyes revealed her anguish and genuine tears as she looked out into the faces of every leading member of the Israeli Parliament, before her head came back up to take in everyone else she possibly could, together with the cameras searching for her features.

‘MY FELLOW ISRAELIS!’ she cried out again at the very top of her voice. ‘HERE IS MY REPLY!

‘What happened to your advice during the Viet Nam War? In the Congo? In Afghanistan? Where is it right now TODAY in SYRIA?’

Suddenly, her small fist came down to smash the podium in front of her so hard that she must have bruised her hand, with the result that several members of the Assembly close to the front of the audience blinked in response.

‘I SAY TO YOU ALL that instead of slapping the wrists of all those who attack and spit on us, we should remove our gloved hand and give to them NOW, what they have SWORN to give to us when they have the weapons! I SAY DESTROY THESE MURDERING INFIDELS before they destroy our beloved country. ‘DESTROY THEM NOW! TODAY! WHILE THEY ARE BUSY KILLING THEIR OWN KIND!’

She hammered her fist into the podium once again, and promptly sat down.

There was a moment of continued silence during which the whole room seemed to be in suspended animation. Television crews continued their feverish broadcasting, focussing their cameras on her defiant features as first one . . . then two . . . then three, then four . . . journalists ran from the room.

Suddenly, one by one at first, then the entire audience rose to its feet, and a thunderous applause accompanied by the stamping of hundreds of feet, reverberated throughout the entire Jewish Assembly.

Chapter Three

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Connor’s summons had been short, arrogant and presumed no refusal: Attend the Vatican tomorrow – Kowalski.

It was typical of the man, the Very Reverend Father Kowalski, with whom Connor had formerly worked until his resignation some twelve months earlier, and a person who could if he so wished, end the life of anyone he chose, or use his immense power, influence and untold wealth to influence events in ways that would otherwise have been thought to be impossible. He was a person whose name and existence were relatively unknown outside of the most influential circle of Jesuits within the Vatican State, whilst also being one of the most powerful men in the world.

Immediately upon receiving the message Connor decided to travel to Italy and the following day, was in Rome driving along the Via Dei Corridoni towards the Vatican, with the dome of St. Peter’s visible above the tops of the buildings lining the bustling approach.

His thoughts were of previous visits and ghosts from his past crowded in upon him as he checked in at the entrance gates to that great city within a city; and shortly afterwards, he was sat facing Kowalski across a large oak desk in a fully-panelled, air-conditioned office overlooking St. Peter’s Square. He only needed to turn his head a little to glimpse through the large, ornate window the position from which the Pope delivers his public addresses and ceremonial blessings, just a few balconies away.

There had been no preamble, no welcoming greeting and no mention of previous assignments or commitments.

‘The reason I asked you to come here Father Tremayne, is that I wish you to remove a person who is becoming an increasing threat to the stability of Middle-east politics.’

‘Forgive me if I am unimpressed, Father Kowalski,’ Connor replied. ‘But I must remind you that when we last met, I resigned from your Decree Four Organisation.’

‘I had not forgotten that fact.’

‘And having renounced my vows long ago, I also no longer answer to that name.’

Kowalski ignored him. ‘On this occasion, it is a woman,’ he said.

‘With respect, she may be a problem for you, but she is of no concern of mine.’

‘The assignment I shall be giving you will also require you to conduct our own investigations into the latest attempts by the Egyptians, to breach the passages located beneath the Giza Plateau, which are said to hold the secrets of our ancestral beginnings.’

‘In which case, Father, I have to tell you again that none of this is of any interest to me. I came here today only because of my profound respect for you.’

‘You are requested to conduct this assignment Father Tremayne, because there is no one more suited to carrying it through successfully. You speak passable Arabic in several dialects, you have an English birth-right and some limited American military experience, and I shall be depending upon you to do whatever is necessary.’

The sound of the air conditioning above Connor’s head became noticeable in the silence which followed, and he glanced out of the window at the Pope’s balcony visible outside from where he sat before looking up at the fan. He had known without needing to be told, that whatever Kowalski wanted it would involve a further assignment.

‘Who is this woman?’ he asked the Head of Decree Four.

‘She is a well-known Israeli politician. Her name is Rebecca Diamond.’

Chapter Four

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Born a Cornishman of wealthy farming stock, Connor was proud of his birth-right; and after being educated privately by Jesuits from an early age, had eventually been ordained a priest. He was however, no longer a member of the Roman Church whose dogma and teachings he had long since rejected after seeing the politics, infighting and corruption as an integral part of the Vatican hierarchy.

The school he had attended had offered students a choice of leisure pursuits as part of their curriculum, and he had chosen to study Tai Chi, a discipline that had been one of the options. Later at University, he had followed his enjoyment of physical exercise by taking up Taekwondo.

After completing his formal education therefore, he had chosen to spend more than year in Tibet, being taught the rudiments of control over the body’s physiological responses, together with the benefits of fasting and meditation – when the qualities of patience and total concentration were added to his growing physical prowess. Following which, he was selected as a disciple at the Shaolin Temple in China, and trained in Shaolin Kung Fu – one of the first Westerners ever to do so. Strength is of little consequence compared to speed, reflexes and co-ordination, he had been told upon his arrival; and the routines the Masters had taught him endlessly, providing him with the instinctive ability to kill or maim an opponent in serious confrontation, before he could be killed himself – quite a different skill to that of the sport practiced around the world. His training and ability in the martial arts were such that after becoming a Jesuit in Rome, he was co-opted into joining Decree Four, a covert Organisation dedicated to ending the careers of otherwise untouchable dictators, corrupt politicians and essentially evil religious zealots.

He was over six feet tall and strongly-built with dark hair and Mediterranean good looks, which frequently led to him being mistaken for having Italian or Greek nationality and he had realised his unsuitability for his chosen vocation only after having been appointed to a key position in the Vatican in Rome, where he had then indulged in several romantic affairs.

One of his conquests after hearing him confess to having been responsible for the deaths of several terrorists involved in the televised execution of a U.S. oil executive, had asked him how he could possibly reconcile his Christian upbringing with such a profession; and his reply had been a question in return. If she had been presented with a risk-free opportunity to murder Adolf Hitler in 1930, he had asked her, knowing that he was destined to be responsible for the deaths of millions of innocent men, women and children – would she have taken it?

She had been unable to give him an unequivocal No and he had replied that whilst he would never equate assassination with righteousness, he also believed that the removal of a paedophile ring, a multiple murderer or an evil dictator amounted to an acceptable elimination of an evil in our midst.

Now, stood in that stygian blackness, breathing in the stench of what could only be the River Nile, it was already clear to Connor that this was no timeless means of access to any records of our heritage, or to a potential message from our forerunners; and a profound and unsettling feeling of total isolation from the real world now gripped him. The oppressive silence now closing in on him like some tangible dead thing was a most unfamiliar and unnerving experience and his thoughts turned to Moses, whose reputed journey beneath the Plateau three thousand years before him had been documented in one of the now famous Dead Sea Scrolls.

Without the benefit of modern technology, the man’s only source of light would have been the illumination from a bundle of burning rushes, flickering as he went, using up what little breathable air remained and forever in danger of disappearing instantly from lack of oxygen, or expiring ultimately from usage. He pictured him now, a Pharaoh, revered by his people and regarded as a God, but from the most sheltered, pampered existence possible and particularly superstitious. Utterly terrified as he moved further and further away from safety, twisting and turning in the total darkness penetrated only by burning rushes, forever in danger of being extinguished; and holding aloft this unreliable torch with one wavering, uncertain arm, whilst unravelling with his other hand as much Egyptian twine as he could carry – it being his only means of finding his way out again.

A very brave man indeed, he decided.

He shook himself back to full awareness and re-focussed his thoughts on the present, when he could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he bent and reached out to grasp hold of the ladder, testing its stability by pulling and shaking at it.

As he did so, as if taunting him, the dank-water stench emanating from the depths seemed to grow stronger, reminding him of the possible presence of snakes, rats and other vermin inhabiting the damp and mildewed passages below. He nevertheless started downwards once more when surprisingly, the ladder seemed to stabilise under his weight and its precarious movement ceased. So, as he moved relentlessly on down a wave of renewed belief in his decision to explore the ancient shaft swept over him, to stay with him until he was finally able to step off the ladder and move away.

He alighted on a recently constructed walkway – expelling a relieved breath. He had reached the third and lowest level of the excavations, far below the surface of the Plateau. He checked his watch. He had now been underground for well over an hour.

The final chamber turned out to be a water-filled cavern, formerly containing four pillars, clearly vandalised at some time in the past; and each of which he could see had been crudely hacked out of the Limestone rock and its surrounds, apparently without any finesse or sophisticated tools. The cavern had also been artificially extended or enlarged in some earlier epoch, by being just as primitively hacked at, but he could discern no useful purpose for the pillars.

He walked slowly and carefully to the far end of the cavern, testing each step before he placed his full weight upon the planking. A tunnel previously documented in reports published by the Egyptian Department of Antiquities and accompanied by sensational third-party commentaries as to its purpose and ultimate destination, appeared to travel in the direction of the middle pyramid way above it, but was no more than a narrow fissure, sufficient only for one person crouching, to pass through into it.

The Egyptians had admittedly made great progress in clearing the shaft and its passages in recent years, but there would undoubtedly be more obstacles to come, he knew. The entire region of Lower Egypt had once been fertile land, but in the aeons of time that had passed since then, the Plateau had been flooded by the ingress of the nearby Red Sea and the waters of the River Nile, and had for the most part, remained impassable for untold centuries. Only in relatively modern times therefore, would the waters have receded and the land turned into the barren desert it had then become, covered as now, in wind-blown sand. This past and present archaeology would not only have added to the complex, interconnected multitude of fissures and caverns below the surface of the Plateau, upon which stood the Pyramids; and this also resulted in the creation of new tunnels and passages filled with mud and strewn with boulders, rocks and other debris; thereby blocking any further real penetration of their secrets.

Connor also knew of the theories regarding the Osiris Shaft as it is known, and via which he had descended; certain ones being that it had originally been part of a drainage system designed to keep the upper reaches of the many passages in the bedrock of the Plateau, free from the invading waters of the Nile. He had decided however, to choose this location for his first personal experience of the environment which he had been assigned to search.

Pulling his hood up over his head and face, fitting an oxygen mask and adjusting his breathing, he checked the fastenings on his protective suit, pulled on a fitted pair of gloves, stepped down into the mud and dropped to his hands and knees facing the cleft in the rock. With his head, face, hands and arms thus protected, he strapped a wicked-looking steel blade to his wrist. No doubt he would not be progressing very far along this route by the looks of things before his progress was blocked – but hopefully not by snakes as Kowalski had so helpfully advised him.

Chapter Five

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Connor recognised the name Kowalski gave him, having seen Rebecca Diamond’s televised presentation made to the Israeli parliament. He had been struck by the enormity of the speech, as urgent and provocative as any he had heard or seen in recent years, and it had captured the attention of the entire world.

‘For what precise reason do you wish her to be removed?’ he asked Kowalski.

His immediate interest was obvious, and Kowalski observed Connor’s reaction with some satisfaction. ‘Her outspoken, hawk-like views,’ he said, ‘represent a threat not just to existing fragile alliances, but to the stability of the whole of the Middle East, implying as they do, potential nuclear conflict.’

Connor disagreed. He realised that she had castigated the rest of the world for condoning what she clearly considered to be undeclared war against her country, and cited examples of duplicity on the part of other nations regarding conflicts in which they had their own obvious interests. Nothing she had said however implied nuclear conflict and to suggest that her speech represented any kind of a threat to Middle East stability, especially in view of the present orgy of violence and mistrust, was simply ridiculous in his opinion. Of course, he recognised that her words had been far more than just rhetoric in the eyes and minds of leading observers; and as well as being thought by many to be fundamentally justifiable, her call to arms had been trumpeted in a big way throughout the media and on television. But it was he felt, the press which required to be castigated, gagged and bound, rather than the speechmaker.

He also knew that it hadn’t been so much what Rebecca Diamond had said, as how she had delivered her speech. She had presented a striking figure: essentially feminine, whilst at the same time, coming across as being resolute and unyielding. It was the display of a formidable combination of qualities, as well as being a rare one; and would have made her a few enemies as well as many friends. In her favour, Connor found it difficult to refute her logic.

‘I understand why you might have singled her out for attention, Father Kowalski,’ he replied. ‘However, I put it to you that there is no stability in the Middle East such as that which you seem to be suggesting. Neither does any stability even appear to be on the horizon. So, disagree with her views if you must, but except that you could argue her speech had adversely influenced the existing political situation in some small way, what possible difference can her views make, howsoever expressed? Hawk-like they may be, and however much publicity they attract?’

‘I do not wish to discuss politics with you, Father Tremayne,’ Kowalski said.

‘No, I don’t suppose you do, but you seem to be asking me to become involved in them. Neither have I any wish to eliminate a woman – especially one whose views I happen to have some sympathy for, and whose method of delivery I admire. You have conveniently ignored also,’ Connor reminded him, ‘the fact that I am no longer in the elimination business. I left the killing game when I also left your Organisation. Technically speaking therefore, I am no longer in your employ.’

‘Which decision was endorsed by me on condition that you return the relics you stole,’ Kowalski now reminded him.

He conveniently ignored the accusation. It was a subject Connor had known Kowalski would raise at the first available opportunity and possibly use as a lever to get whatever he wanted from him.

‘You also chose not to answer my question,’ he replied. ‘Therefore, I must find another way to put my point to you. If this woman is a danger to Middle East peace because she has extremist views, then you should know that there are many such hawks as you call them, both inside the Israeli government and outside of it – of which she is only one.’

The Jesuit Superior facing him across the large oak desk was secretly pleased at his success in having drawn Connor further into a discussion regarding the woman. He felt he was one step closer to his chosen operative’s involvement in the assignment. He had always expected some resistance and was also prepared to forego for the time being, any further controversy over the most sacred relics the man was holding; and his confidence rose of securing his further involvement in the assignment.

‘A hawk, Mrs. Diamond certainly is,’ he replied. ‘And I concede that there may be more than one in the Israeli parliament. However, there are none so vociferous inside or out of it, and she is also a rising star, the darling of those who agree with her views. In fact, no one in Israel it seems is as singularly influential. Her elimination therefore, is entirely justifiable – but it need not come until she has helped you to kick-start your assignment.’

Connor was now more than intrigued, he was puzzled.

‘Helped me in what way?’ How could this woman possibly be of any assistance in carrying out the assignment you