Selected Detective
GOA THE VII OLD SALT MINE

The effect was so instantaneous. Rays swept and there were footprints as the Israelis moved toward the left side of the elevator, followed by a deafening gunfire.

As it begins to unfold, Khalifa and Ben-Roi begin to run, holding hands, in the dark, following what they have come to expect, as a central alley line, he said, frowning with each step if only they should be smashed into a pile of crates or other difficulties. Sometimes they let the action, fear, and adrenaline stir them, crossing about half the length of the cave before slowing down, releasing their handrails and walking in one of the narrow alleyways between the shelves, jump over another set of things that make the alley clogged. Behind them the barrage of firearm eruptions was getting less and less to then stop altogether.

They stood in place, trying to catch their breath back. Darkness enveloped them like black velvet swipes, the cave was silent except for the repeated cranks of the generator and the chattering sound of the Israelites, slowly at first, but then it slowly sounded important and urgent.

Ben-Roi tightened his neck, listening.

“Damn,” whispered.

“What?”

“Api.”

“What?”

“Toward. Can make this crate light up.” As they talked about it, his nostrils caught the smell of burning wood.

“This place is like precarious powder,” said Ben-Roi. “All soon explode!” Khalifa did not need an explanation. He had seen the contents of the cave with his own eyes: oil drums, crates filled with ammunition, explosives, shelves made of dry wood.

“Damn it!” he hissed. “Damn it!” He lit his lighters and, while protecting the fire with his hands to keep his light out, began to frantically look around, looking for something, anything, that they could use to find their way out of the cave. Har-Zion's accomplices started firing again, their voices further causing panic as the eruption grew stronger and spread. The crank crunching sound of the generator is getting urgent.

“Come!” Ben-roi. “We need weapons!”

“Not one here!” Khalifa pressed further into the pile of crates, no longer concerned with the noise they produced, moving matches here and there. He found paintings, sculptures, what looked like a large candle holder. But there were no weapons, and he began to despair when finally, after sliding a bag full of banknotes, he found a long metal container that, when opened, was, contains a dozen new Schmeisser brand submachine guns. The same container that was on his side contained full ammunition clips.

“Alhamdulillah,” whispered. He picks up one of the guns and with a few clips he hands it over to Ben-Roi. Khalifa took another one for herself, and examined it, trying to adjust to a mechanism she had not yet known, when a sudden rush of gunfire rang out.they immediately ducked down, thinking that the barrage was directed at both of them, and only realizing from the warning cries of the Har-Zion accomplices that it was an ammunition box that immediately exploded.

“This place will be a volcano,” sis Ben-Roi.

They stood up and then walked down the back of the alley, a deep orange corona filling the cave far to their right. When they reached the mouth of the alley, there was an explosion of oil drums, kira Khalifa, or perhaps some oil drums followed directly by the sound of the generator as it finally lit up again, an ice-white ray swept through the entire cave chamber, making everything visible. Har-Zion's hands let out a shout of excitement, and with a clanking sound, the elevator began to rise again. Ben-Roi peeks towards the alley, and then pulls his head.

“They are not far from here,” he whispered. “One is in the courtyard above. I'll take care of him. count to three huh?” they cocked his gun.

“One ... two...”.

There was another explosive sound, the whole cave was shaking.

“Three!” They sneak into the alley. The fire was worse than Khalifa had expected. Within minutes, the fire had engulfed the entire row of boxes on their right, the gaping mouth of the fire licking and scorching out what was seen, devouring the rows of chests deeper and deeper. The tongues of fire began licking the walls of the cave; sparks of burning ruins flew through the air like fireflies. Above the head, dense gray smoke slowly coiled up on the ceiling of the cave.

All that he noticed in half a second before he crouched down, resting on his knees and started shooting. Schmeisser snapped and roared in her hand.

Beside him, Ben-Roi is doing the same thing, flocking the furthest side of the cave with an unrelenting barrage of bullets. The attack seemed to have taken Har-Zion and his followers by surprise. Ben-Roi was able to hit the target at the top, Khalifa about two more people in the elevator, the second of them fell forward through the elevator control lever making the mechanism in the opposite direction.

Their chances are only for a moment. After a moment of confusion, the three remaining Israelis Har-Zion, Steiner, and the others got down on the elevator floor and launched a barrage of gun eruptions appropriately. Khalifa retreated back into the alley between the coffin racks; Ben-Roi remained silent for a moment, then walked to the other alley on the opposite side of the separation alley.

“Don't let them be in control!” his yell.

One of the Israelis was trying to do just that, Har-Zion and Steiner were protecting him as he rolled on the platform and pulled the body that was toppled over the up-and-down lever.

Khalifa caught him and launched a barrage of gunfire at him, but was desperate to back down at once. Ben-Roi was more successful, spewing bullets into the cave that directly hit the Israeli side, making him float through the air before slamming again at the bottom of Menorah.

The elevator is now almost completely on the cave floor. In an all-out last-ditch effort to get him on the rise again Steiner empties his Uzumaki by firing into an alley, shouting something at Har-Zion and, when the latter protects him with his Hecker and Koch pistols, he, struggling on the platform, the corpse toppled over and, his neck muscles bulged out, tore it apart, put his hand on the control lever to return its direction.The elevator stopped, pausing for a moment as if taking a breath, as if taking a breath, then start to go up again.

Har-Zion screams victory, only until the sound is stopped on his lips when his gun runs out of ammunition. A man with normal freedom to move would definitely only take a few seconds to set up a new clip and put it in the bullet holder. Due to the firmness of his burnt skin, he was unable to enter such an object quickly. Shouting something, Steiner yelled back, indicating that he was also running out of ammunition, and in that very brief confusion Ben-Roi saw an opportunity for him.

Calling Khalifa to follow him, he came out of his hiding place and started running towards the elevator. He was silent for a moment as a huge explosion behind him had swayed the entire cave before regaining his position, fingers ready on the trigger of his weapon. His first shot misses wildly, disappearing into hell far to the right. So did the next shot, which bounced on the stone wall above the elevator. The third shot hit the target, hitting Steiner's neck and chest, slamming back into one of the vertical paths the elevator runs on. For a long moment he stood there, blood spilling out from his mouth, shock adorning his face; then, slowly, as a platform appeared beneath him, shock filled his face, his body was squeezed into a lane and caught under a metal wheel running on it, bluffing them. There was a scream as soon as the motor lift tried to cross the blockade, its wheels traversed the corpse, before finally, it was impossible to pass through it, the engine exploded into a rain of sparkling flames and the elevator came to a complete halt, one and a half meters above the floor.

Har-Zion is still trying to get new ammo, screaming in pain as his movement limitations cause his preserved flesh to tear and shred behind his shirt.See how helpless he is, he is helpless, Ben-Roi slows down his run, then walks. He approached him, lifted Schmeisser and pressed the tip hard on Har-Zion's head, seemingly oblivious to the flames that were now burning all the area.

“This is for Gaul,” whispers. He pulled the trigger to a near-full extent, then stopped it. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, every day for the past year to attach a weapon to the head of the man who had killed his lover, butchering him, just as the Gauls had. However, when the time came, the weapon had stuck to its target point and he had nothing to do but pull the trigger, somehow unable to do so. Not in this way, not cruelly. He bit his lips, gave himself up to shoot, avenged his hatred, but it still did not happen; the only small voice deep within him the voice of the woman told him that it was not a good thing, it's not something that's right, it'll hurt her more than it'll cure her. Har-Zion seemed sensitive, feeling this rejection.

“Help me,” he wailed, sticking his head out to stare at Ben-Roi. “Do whatever you want to do to me outside, but for God's sake, save that Menorah.” Ben-Roi looks at him, hands trembling, face shiny by the sweat from the rising heat brought about by the fire. Then with a helpless whimper, he let go of his weapon. Har-Zion immediately stood up, whimpering in pain.

“We will raise it,” he said. “We need cable or rope.where is the Arab?” Ben-Roi looked around. He thought Khalifa was right behind him, following him as he headed for the elevator. The Egyptians tried to do it that way. However, when he emerges from his hiding place, the same huge explosion that almost made Ben-Roi give up has left half a dozen crates strewn across him, rendering him unconscious. He was now lying in the middle of an alley, his face facing the floor, a large chest resting on his feet. Ben-Roi runs towards him and gets rid of the crate, while kneeling down.

At first he thought Khalifa was dead. However, he tried to provide stimulation and, no longer having time to worry if there was a broken bone, he lifted the Egyptian to his shoulder and rushed back to the elevator, coughed as it inhaled the smoke that filled the space. Har-Zion had found the rope and tied it to the trunk of Menorah.

“We will take out the Lights first and come back again for him,” he said. “Help me.”

Ben-Roi. “I'll lift it up first.”

“No! We have to save Menorah!”

“I will take him first,” Ben-Roi's reset, while lifting Khalifa to the platform, he himself then steps onto the platform and lifts the Egyptian again to his shoulder. When he did so the tip of the gun was struck to the back of his neck.

“It will be reloaded,” says Har - Zion. “Now, put him down.” There's a pause for a few moments. Another drum of oil exploded on the other side of the cave, a lick of fire creeping upward almost reaching the ceiling, swallowing and vaporizing the giant Nazi flag, then, while putting the gun aside, it was, Ben-Roi steps onto the nearest elevator track. Har-Zion raised his gun and shot it into the air.

“Let him down!” his yell. “You understand? We have to save the lights. Put him down and help me!”

“If you kill me, you won't be able to get it out,” said Ben-Roi, eyes looking at the elevator track. “I'll take him upstairs and back again.”

“No!” har-zion screams, while firing the next warning shot. “We have to save him now! Now! You understand?” The detective ignores him, steps over Steiner's bloodied corpse, grabs the horizontal metal bar that heads up between the shelves like a rung and he starts climbing it.