The Second Messiah

The Serb hammered away the metal remains with the butt of his machine pistol, then dragged open the creaking gate.

Nidal stepped inside and spotted the oil lamps hanging on the wall. He grabbed one and raced down the passageway, the Serb following.

77

Jack and Yasmin hurried on. The air became cooler the deeper they went. After about two hundred feet the string of lightbulbs ended. Another metal gate blocked their path, this one with a heavier lock, an unlit passageway beyond.

This time Jack saw a key hanging from a hook in the wall and he inserted it frantically in the lock. The gate was slow to budge but when he slammed his shoulder hard against the metal, it creaked open in protest. There was barely enough room for them to squeeze through into the blackness and as Jack relocked the gate, they heard the echo of footsteps. “They don’t give up, do they? Stay close to the wall and hold on to my coattail,” he urged Yasmin.

The passageway they entered looked dark and forbidding and the air smelled stale. Jack slipped the key into his pocket and they pushed on ahead. The ground was smooth beneath their feet, the walls slimy to their touch, and they were mostly in darkness apart from the dying glow of the pathway lighting behind them.

Jack whispered, “I don’t want to make us a target, so we’ll wait as long as we can before we light the lamp. I ought to warn you that some of the passageways around here have open shafts that drop down to another level, so be extra careful where you step.”

Tension edged Yasmin’s voice. “As if being chased by a couple of armed madmen wasn’t enough excitement for one day, I get to risk breaking my legs as well.”

Jack’s cell phone rang, the keypad illuminating, and he startled. “What the. . .!” He hit the mute and checked the caller ID. “It’s Buddy again. Talk about bad timing.”

Jack flicked off his cell as the footsteps on the slope grew louder. “I’d suggest you switch yours off too, in case it rings and gives us away.”

Yasmin flicked off her phone. They moved deeper into the passageway and she kept a firm hold of Jack’s coat as he felt his way along the walls.

Jack listened, and noticed that the echoing footsteps had halted. He looked back and saw moving shadows. The Arab and his companion had reached the second gate. It rattled fiercely and then came a muzzle flash as a ricochet exploded.

“Get down.” Jack squatted, pulling Yasmin after him. “Crouch as low to the ground as you can.”

Yasmin hunkered beside him, alarmed. “What happens when they come through the gate? We’ve nowhere to hide.”

“There ought to be a corner up ahead. Then we can light the lamp and try to lose them in the tunnels.”

“Are you sure we’re even in the right passageway?”

Jack kept feeling his way forward, dragging her deeper into the tarry darkness. “I’m sure of nothing except that this part of Rome’s underground is a maze of tunnels and it’s easy to stray off course. That’s why I’m hoping we can try and lose them.”

Yasmin’s voice hoarsened with panic. “You mean we could get lost?”

“That’s a distinct possibility.”

Nidal rattled the gate but it didn’t budge. The single shot from his Beretta had ricocheted off the iron lock. “Take care of it,” he ordered.

The Serb examined the rusted lock. The cast iron looked solid. He shook his head. “I’m not sure we can shoot out the mechanism. This one’s much sturdier than the last. Step well away.”

Nidal took a dozen paces back. The Serb aimed toward the gate, squeezed the trigger, and the MAC-10 stuttered.

Jack groped along the moist walls, moving as fast as he could. He felt a sharp right angle. “I think we’ve found our corner.”

He rounded it, clutching Yasmin’s hand, then fumbled in his pocket for a cheap plastic lighter and removed the oil lamp’s glass cover. He struck the lighter and touched the flame to the wick. It lit at once, yellow light flaring in the darkness to reveal a massive veil of spiders’ webs.

Yasmin staggered back in terror as the air in front of them came alive with colonies of huge black spiders. Their hairy bodies sprang through the air in wild panic, some of them landing on their clothes before they vanished into the shadows between the wall cracks. “What. . . what are those?” Yasmin was livid with fear.

Jack waved the lamp, tearing the veil of webs. “They’re called saltericchi. A species of jumping spider that live in the darkest, most humid areas underground. At the first sign of light they start hopping around like they’re on crack.” He smiled. “They can scare the life out of you the first time you see them, but they’re really harmless.”

The distant rattle of the metal gate echoed behind them, then came the sound of a short blast of sustained gunfire. Yasmin said, “It won’t be long before they break the lock.”

“I’m not so sure. It looked pretty robust to me.”

Yasmin brushed away the remains of a cobweb in her hair. “Are there any other shocks in store for me that I ought to know about?”