Sheba

Jack Higgins

Sheba

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Publisher’s Note

Map

Berlin

March 1939

1

As rain drifted across Berlin in a great curtain on…

2

On Wednesday morning Canaris, after sleeping once again on the…

Dahrein

August 1939

3

The wind, blowing across the Gulf from Africa, still carried…

4

They came into Dahrein in the early afternoon. As the…

5

They didn’t talk much on the way to the hotel.

6

He moved along the corridor and as he reached the…

7

The hotel was ablaze with lights, and the foyer was…

8

The fishing boats were slipping out through the harbour entrance…

9

Kane gave a long, shuddering sigh and wiped sweat from…

10

Jamal gently cleared loose sand away from the base of…

11

It was almost noon when the two guards came to…

12

The moon had risen over the rim of the gorge…

13

The cave was in complete darkness and Kane took out…

14

They entered a large chamber which was about three feet…

15

They left an hour later on the three camels Jamal…

16

A thorough search of the camp produced plenty of food,…

17

He opened his eyes slowly. For a moment his mind…

18

It was quiet in the garden and a slight breeze…

About the Author

Other Books by Jack Higgins

Copyright

About the Publisher

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

SHEBA was first published in the UK as Seven Pillars of Hell by Abelard-Schuman in 1963. It was then rewritten and published by Michael Joseph in 1994 and has been out of print for several years.

In 2012, it seemed to the author and his publishers that it was a pity to leave such a thrilling story languishing on his shelves. So we are delighted to be able to bring back Sheba for the pleasure of the vast majority of us who never had a chance to read the earlier editions.

In 24 BC the Roman General, Aelius Gallus, tried to conquer Southern Arabia and succeeded only in losing most of his army in the awesome region known as the Empty Quarter, the Rubh al Khali. Amongst the survivors was a Greek adventurer named Alexias, centurion in the Tenth Legion, who walked out of the desert carrying with him a secret of the ancient world as astonishing as King Solomon’s Mines, a secret that was lost for two thousand years. Until …

Map

1

As rain drifted across Berlin in a great curtain on the final evening of March a black Mercedes limousine moved along Wilhelmstrasse towards the new Reich Chancellery which had only opened in January. Hitler had given them a year to complete the project. His orders had been obeyed with two weeks to spare. Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, Chief of Military Intelligence, the Abwehr, leaned forward and wound down the window so that he could obtain a better view.

He shook his head. ‘Incredible. Do you realize, Hans, that the frontage on Voss-Strasse alone is a quarter of a mile long.’

The young man who sat next to him was his aide, a Luftwaffe captain named Hans Ritter. He had an Iron Cross Second and First Class and was handsome enough until he turned his head and the dreadful burn scar was visible on his right cheek; and there was a walking stick on the floor at his feet, the unfortunate result of his having been shot down by an American volunteer pilot while flying with the German Condor Legion in the Spanish Civil War.

‘With all those pillars, Herr Admiral, the marble, it’s more like some marvel of the ancient world.’

‘Instead of a symbol of the new order?’ Canaris shrugged and wound up the window. ‘Everything passes, Hans, even the Third Reich although our beloved Führer has given us a thousand years.’ He took a cigarette from his case and Ritter gave him a light, as always slightly alarmed at the mocking in the older man’s voice.

‘As you say, Herr Admiral.’

‘Yes, it’s a bizarre thought, isn’t it? One day people could be wandering around what’s left of the Chancellery, tourists, just like they inspect the ruins of the Temple of Luxor in Egypt saying: “I wonder what they were like?”’

Ritter was thoroughly uncomfortable now as the Mercedes drove through the gilded gates into a court of honour and moved towards the steps leading up to the massive entrance. ‘If the Herr Admiral could give me an idea of why we’ve been called.’

‘I haven’t the slightest notion and it’s me he wants to see, not you, Hans. I simply want you on hand if anything unusual turns up.’

‘Shall I wait in the car?’ Ritter asked as they pulled up at the bottom of the steps.

‘No, you can wait in reception. Much more comfortable and you’ll be able to feast on the new art forms of the Third Reich. Vulgar, but sustaining.’

The Kriegsmarine Petty Officer who was his driver ran round to open the door. Canaris got out and waited courteously for Ritter, who had considerably more difficulty. His left leg was false from the knee down, but once on his feet he moved quite well with the aid of his stick and they went up the steps together.

The SS guards were troops of the Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler and wore black dress uniform and full white leather harness. They saluted smartly as Canaris and Ritter passed inside. The hall was truly remarkable with mosaic floor, doors seventeen feet high and great eagles carrying swastikas in their claws. A young Hauptsturm-führer in dress uniform sat at a gold desk, two orderlies standing behind. He jumped to his feet.

‘Herr Admiral. The Führer has asked for you twice.’

‘My dear Hoffer, I didn’t get his summons until half an hour ago,’ Canaris said. ‘Not that that will do me any good. This is my aide, Captain Ritter. Look after him for me.’

‘Of course, Herr Admiral.’ Hoffer nodded to one of the orderlies. ‘Take the Herr Admiral to the Führer’s reception suite.’

The orderly set off at a sharp pace and Canaris went after him. Hoffer came round the desk and said to Ritter, ‘Spain?’

‘Yes.’ Ritter tapped his false foot. ‘I could still fly, but they won’t let me.’

‘What a pity,’ Hoffer said and led him over to the seating area. ‘You’ll miss the big show.’

‘You think it will come?’ Ritter asked, easing himself down and taking out his cigarette case.

‘Don’t you? And by the way, no smoking. Führer’s express order.’

‘Damn!’ Ritter said, for his pain was constant and cigarettes helped.

‘Sorry,’ Hoffer said sympathetically. ‘But coffee we do have and it’s the best.’

He turned, went to his desk and picked up the phone.

When the guard opened the enormous door to Hitler’s study, Canaris was surprised at the number of people in the room. There were the three commanders-in-chief, Goering for the Luftwaffe, Brauchitsch for the Army and Raeder for the Kriegsmarine. There was Himmler, von Ribbentrop, generals like Jodl, Keitel and Halder. There was a heavy silence and heads turned as Canaris entered.

‘Now that the Admiral has deigned to join us we can begin,’ Hitler said; ‘and I will be brief. As you know the British today gave the Poles an unconditional guarantee of their full support in the event of war.’

Goering said. ‘Will the French follow, my Führer?’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Hitler told him. ‘But they will do nothing when it comes to the crunch.’

‘You mean, invade Poland?’ Halder, who was Chief of Staff at OKW, said. ‘What about the Russians?’

‘They won’t interfere. Let us say there are negotiations in hand and leave it at that. So, gentlemen, my will is fixed in this matter. You will prepare Case White, the invasion of Poland on September the 1st.’

There were shocked gasps. ‘But my Führer, that only gives us six months,’ Colonel-General von Brauchitsch protested.

‘Ample time,’ Hitler told him. ‘If there are those who disagree, speak now.’ There was a profound silence. ‘Good, then get to work, gentlemen. You may all leave except for you, Herr Admiral.’

They all filed out and Canaris stood there waiting while Hitler looked out of the window at the rain. Finally he turned. ‘The British and the French will declare war, but they won’t do anything. Do you agree?’

‘Absolutely,’ Canaris said.

‘We smash Poland, wrap things up in a few weeks. Once it’s done, what is the point of the British and French continuing? They’ll sue for peace.’

‘And if not?’

Hitler shrugged. ‘Then I’ll have Case Yellow implemented. We’ll invade Belgium, Holland, France and drive the English into the sea. They’ll come to their senses then. After all, they are not our natural enemies.’

‘I agree,’ Canaris said.

‘Having said that, it occurs to me that I should demonstrate to our English friends as soon as possible that I do mean business.’

Canaris cleared his throat. ‘Exactly what do you have in mind, my Führer?’

Hitler gestured towards the huge map of the world that hung on the far wall. ‘Come over here, Herr Admiral, and let me show you.’

When Canaris returned to the reception hall at the Chancellery an hour later, Hoffer was seated behind his desk with the two orderlies. There was no sign of Ritter. The SS Captain stood up and came to greet him.

‘Herr Admiral.’

‘My aide?’ Canaris asked.

‘Hauptman Ritter was badly in need of a smoke. He went back to your car.’

‘My thanks,’ Canaris said. ‘I’ll find my own way.’

He went out of the huge doors and stood at the top of the steps, buttoning his greatcoat, looking out at the rain. He went down the steps and had the rear door of the limousine open before his driver realized what was happening, and climbed in beside Ritter.

‘My office,’ he called to the driver, then closed the glass partition.

Ritter started to stub out his cigarette as they drove away, and Canaris sat back. ‘Never mind. Just give me one of those things. I need it.’

Ritter got his cigarette case out and offered a light. ‘Is everything all right, Herr Admiral? I saw them all leave. I was worried.’

‘The Führer, Hans, gave us his personal order to invade Poland on September the 1st.’

‘My God,’ Ritter said. ‘Case White.’

‘Exactly. He has been negotiating with the Russians, who will do a deal. They’ll let us get on with it in return for a slice of eastern Poland.’

‘And the British?’

‘Oh, they’ll declare war and I’m sure the French will go along. The Führer, however, is convinced they will do nothing on the Western Front and for once I agree. They’ll sit there while we wrap up Poland, and his feeling is that once it’s an accomplished fact, we can all get round the negotiating table and get back to the status quo. Britain, as he informed us, is not our natural enemy.’

‘Do you agree, Herr Admiral?’

‘He’s right enough there, but the British are a stubborn lot, Hans, and Chamberlain is not popular. Since Munich his own people despise him.’ Canaris stubbed out his cigarette. ‘If there was a change at the top, Churchill for example …’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘And what would we do?’

‘Implement Case Yellow. Invade the Low Countries and France and drive whatever army the British had brought across the channel into the sea.’

There was a pause before Ritter said, ‘Could this be done?’

‘I think so, Hans, as long as the Americans don’t interfere. Under the Führer’s inspired leadership we have reoccupied the Rhineland, absorbed Austria and Czechoslovakia plus one or two bits and pieces. I have no doubt we’ll win in Poland.’

‘But afterwards, Herr Admiral? The French, the British?’

‘Ah, well now we come down to why the Führer kept me back when everyone else left.’

‘A special project, Herr Admiral?’

‘You could say that. He wants us to blow up the Suez Canal on the 1st of September, the day we invade Poland.’

Ritter, in the act of snapping his cigarette case open, said, ‘Good God!’

Canaris took the case from him and helped himself. ‘He got the idea from this Colonel Rommel who commanded the Führer’s escort battalion for the occupation of the Sudetenland. He thinks highly of Colonel Rommel and with reason and there is a certain mad logic to the idea. I mean, the Suez Canal is the direct link to the British Empire. Cut it and all shipping to India, the Far East and Australia would have to go by way of Africa and the Cape of Good Hope. The military implications speak for themselves.’

‘But Herr Admiral, how on earth would we get men and equipment into the area?’

Canaris shook his head. ‘No, Hans, you’ve got it wrong. We’re not talking direct military action here, we’re talking sabotage. The Führer wants us, the Abwehr, to blow up the Suez Canal on the day we invade Poland. Put the damn thing out of action. Close it down so fully that it would take a year or so to open it again.’

‘What a coup. It would shock the world,’ Ritter said.

‘More to the point, it would shock the British to the core and make them realize we mean business. At least that’s the way our beloved Führer sees it.’ Canaris sighed. ‘Of course, how the hell we are to accomplish this is another matter, but we’ll have to come up with something, at least on paper, and that’s where you come in, Hans.’

‘I see, Herr Admiral.’

The limousine pulled in to the kerb outside the Abwehr offices at 74–6 Tirpitz Ufer. The Petty Officer hurried round to open the door for Canaris and Ritter scrambled out after him. The young Luftwaffe officer was frowning slightly.

Canaris said, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine, Herr Admiral. It’s just that there’s something stirring at the back of my mind, something that could suit our purposes.’

‘Really?’ Canaris smiled and led the way up the steps, pausing at the door. ‘Well, that is good news, but sooner rather than later, Hans, remember that,’ and he led the way inside.

It was perhaps an hour later and Canaris was seated at his desk working his way through a mass of papers, his two favourite dachshunds asleep in their basket in the corner, when there was a knock at the door and Ritter entered with a file in one hand and a rolled-up map under his arm. He limped forward, leaning on his stick.

‘Could I have a word, Herr Admiral, on this Suez Canal venture?’

Canaris sat back. ‘So soon, Hans?’

‘As I said, there was something at the back of my mind, and when I got to my office I remembered. A report I received last month from a professor of archaeology here at the University, Professor Otto Muller. He’s recently returned from Southern Arabia. Intends to go back there soon. He needs additional funding.’

‘And what has this to do with us?’ Canaris asked.

‘As the Herr Admiral knows, all German citizens working abroad have to make a report to us here at Abwehr Headquarters of anything of an unusual nature that they may have come across.’

‘So?’

‘Allow me, Herr Admiral.’ Ritter went across to the map board on the far wall, unrolled the map under his arm and pinned it in place. It showed Egypt and the Suez Canal, the whole of Southern Arabia, the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. ‘As you can see, Herr Admiral, the British in Aden, the Yemen and then various Arab states along the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean, Dhofar and the Oman.’

‘Well?’ Canaris asked, examining the map.

‘You will notice Dahrein, a port on the Gulf coast. This is where Muller was working from. It belongs to Spain. Rather like Goa on the Indian coast. The Spaniards have been there for four hundred years.’

‘I can imagine what the place is like,’ Canaris said.

‘North across the border with Saudi Arabia is the Rubh al Khali, the Empty Quarter, one of the most awesome deserts on earth.’

‘And this is where Muller was operating?’

‘Yes, Herr Admiral.’

‘But what on earth was he doing?’

‘There are remains of many ancient civilizations in the area, inscriptions and graffiti on the rocks. Muller is an expert on ancient languages. He uses a latex solution to take impressions, which are brought back here to the University.’

‘And what has this to do with the Suez Canal, Hans?’

‘Bear with me, Herr Admiral. The area around there called Saba has long been associated with the Queen of Sheba.’

‘My God,’ Canaris said and returned to his desk. ‘Now it’s the Bible.’ He took a cigarette from a silver box. ‘I always understood that except for the biblical reference there has never been actual proof that she existed.’

‘Oh, she did exist, I can assure you,’ Ritter said. ‘There was a cult of the Arabian goddess. Asthar, their equivalent of Venus. In legend, the Queen of Sheba was high priestess of that cult and built a temple out there in the Empty Quarter.’

‘In legend,’ Canaris said.

‘Muller has found what he thinks could be the ruins of it, Herr Admiral. Naturally he kept his discovery quiet. Such an event would rival the discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Archaeologists would descend from all over the world. As I said, he returned to Berlin for funding, but made a full description of his find in his report to Abwehr.’

Canaris frowned. ‘But where is this leading?’

‘This place is unknown, Herr Admiral, hidden out there in the desert. Used for supplies, an aircraft, it could provide a base for a strike against the Canal.’

Canaris got up and went to the map. He examined it and turned. ‘A thousand miles at least from that area to the Suez Canal.’

‘More like twelve hundred, Herr Admiral, but I’m sure I could find a way.’

Canaris smiled. ‘You usually can, Hans. All right, bring Muller to see me.’

‘When, Herr Admiral?’

‘Why now, of course, tonight. I intend to sleep in the office anyway.’

He returned to his papers and Ritter went out.

Professor Otto Muller was a small, balding man with a wizened face tanned to the shade of old leather by constant exposure to the desert sun. When Ritter ushered him into the office to meet Canaris, Muller smiled nervously, exposing gold-capped teeth.

Canaris said, ‘That will do, Hans.’ Ritter went out and Canaris lit a cigarette. ‘So, Professor, a remarkable find. Tell me about it.’

Muller stood there like a nervous schoolboy. ‘I was lucky, Herr Admiral. I’ve been working in the Shabwa area for some time and one night an old Bedouin staggered into my camp dying of thirst and fever. I nursed him back to life.’

‘I see.’

‘They’re a strange people. Can’t bear to be in debt so he repaid me by telling me where Sheba’s temple was.’

‘Payment indeed. Tell me about it.’

‘I first saw it as an outcrop of reddish stone, out there in the vastness of the Empty Quarter. The Herr Admiral must understand that there are sand dunes out there that are hundreds of feet high.’

‘Remarkable.’

‘As I got closer we entered a gorge. I had two Bedouin with me as guards. We had journeyed by camel. There was a flat plain, very hard-baked, then a gorge, a broad avenue of pillars.’

‘And the temple? Tell me about that.’

Which Muller did, talking for a good half-hour while Canaris listened intently. Finally the Admiral nodded. ‘Fascinating. Captain Ritter tells me you made an excellent report to Abwehr.’

‘I hope I know my duty, Herr Admiral, I’m a party member.’

‘Indeed,’ Canaris observed drily. ‘Then you will no doubt be pleased to return to this place with suitable funding and do what you are told to do. This is a project the Führer himself is interested in.’

Muller drew himself up. ‘At your orders, Herr Admiral.’

‘Good.’ Canaris pressed a button on his desk. ‘We’ll keep you informed.’

Ritter entered. ‘Herr Admiral?’

‘Wait outside, Professor,’ Canaris said, and waited until Muller had gone out. ‘He seems harmless enough, but I still have my doubts, Hans. If you used this place as a base it would require a flight of say twelve hundred miles to the Canal and what real damage could one bomber do? In fact, do we have a plane that could make the flight?’

‘I’ve already had a thought,’ Ritter said, ‘but I’d like to explore it further before sharing it with you.’

Canaris frowned. ‘Is this serious business, Hans?’

‘I believe it could be, Herr Admiral.’

‘So be it.’ Canaris nodded. ‘I don’t need to tell you to squeeze Muller dry, details of this Dahrein place, how the Spanish run it and so on. At least they’re on our side, which could be useful.’

‘I’ll see to it, sir.’

‘At your soonest, Hans. A feasibility study. I’ll give you three days.’

Ritter turned and limped out and Canaris went back to his papers.

2

On Wednesday morning Canaris, after sleeping once again on the little military bed in his office, was in the bathroom shaving when there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ he called.

‘It’s me, Herr Admiral,’ Ritter replied. ‘And your breakfast.’

Canaris wiped his face and went out to the aroma of good coffee, and found an orderly arranging a tray on his desk, Ritter standing by the window.

‘Dismissed,’ Canaris said, and picked up his cup as the orderly went out. ‘Join me, Hans.’

‘I’ve already had breakfast, Herr Admiral.’

‘You must have risen early. How conscientious of you.’

‘Not really, Herr Admiral. It’s just that I find difficulty sleeping.’

Canaris was immediately all sympathy. ‘My dear Hans, how stupid of me. I’m afraid I often forget just how difficult life must be for you.’

‘The fortunes of war, Herr Admiral.’ He laid a file on the desk as Canaris buttered some toast. The Admiral looked up. ‘What’s this?’

‘Operation Sheba, Herr Admiral.’

‘You mean you’ve come up with a solution?’

‘I believe so.’

‘You think this thing could be done?’

‘Not only could it be done, Herr Admiral, I think it should be done.’

‘Really.’ Canaris poured coffee into the spare cup. ‘Then I insist that you have a cigarette and drink that while I see what you’ve got here.’

Ritter did as he was told and limped across to the window. The 3rd of April. Soon it would be Easter and yet it rained like a bad day in November. His leg hurt, but he was damned if he was going to take a morphine pill unless he really had to. He swallowed the coffee and lit a cigarette. Behind him he heard Canaris lift the telephone.

‘The Reich Chancellery, the Führer’s suite,’ the Admiral said, and added after a moment, ‘Good morning. Canaris. I must see the Führer. Yes, most urgent.’ There was a longer pause and then he said, ‘Excellent. Eleven o’clock.’

Ritter turned. ‘Herr Admiral?’

‘Excellent, Hans, this plan of yours. You can come with me and tell the man yourself.’

Ritter had never ventured beyond the main reception area at the Chancellery before and what he saw was breathtaking, not only the huge doors and bronze eagles but the Marble Gallery, which was four hundred and eighty feet long, the Führer’s special pride as it was twice as long as the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.

When they were admitted to the Führer’s enormous study they found Hitler seated at his desk. He looked up. ‘Something important, I trust.’

‘I think so, my Führer,’ Canaris said. ‘This is my aide, Captain Ritter.’

Hitler took in the scarred face, the stick, the medals, rose, came round the table and took Ritter’s hand. ‘As a soldier I salute you.’