Pandora's Ark (29 page)

“All
right, boys,” he said, activating the detonator. “It’s time to make some
noise.” And then: “
Cover
!”

Kimball
looked at his watch: twenty-seven minutes to go.
Do it!

Ezra
pressed the command, setting off the Semtex. The explosion was massive as rock
and debris went everywhere. When the dust settled a gaping hole the size of a
small entryway was situated beside the vault door, the door itself was blackened
and charred, but held nary a dent.

The
team examined the break and saw that it blew inwards of nearly two feet. As far
as Kimball could tell it was a great mining tool, but they were still outside the
facility and time was running short.

Twenty-five
minutes
.

“One,
maybe two more charges,” said Ezra. “But I’ll get us in.”

Kimball
looked skyward, could almost hear the approaching jets.

No
doubt the explosion alerted the Quds inside, causing them to side up in defense
formation.

“How
much Semtex you got left?” he asked.

“Two
bundles.”

“Use
them both as one discharge,” he told him.

“That’s
a lot of power, sir.”

“Ezra,
I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Use them both. We’re running out of time.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Ezra
worked quickly, piecing the explosives as a unit of one. Since Semtex was one
of the most volatile explosives ever created, the blowout would be massive.
After setting the charges, Ezra cautioned the team to fall way back.

Twenty-two
minutes.

“
Cover
!”
He pressed the button. The stone wall, the world, the ground beneath them, all shook
with apocalyptic reverberations that seemed never-ending as cloying dust as
thick as a London fog circled in lazy eddies, refusing to settle.

But
through that fog they could see the light within the complex. The center had
been breached.

“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!”

Kimball
led the way with his MP-5 directed front and center, the mouth of the weapon’s
barrel poised to kill. He easily breached the hole, which was massive, the
force of the explosion blowing hot chunks of rock throughout the center with
scalpel-like intensity, the energy of the blast causing the stones to act as
shrapnel that destroyed everything in its path perforating the walls with numerous
holes. If Quds forces had been standing at the end of the corridor waiting in
defense, then they would have been cut down to pieces, their bodies’ most
likely ending up as tangled masses of freshly sliced meat.

But
no one was there.

The
lab was empty.

The
complex completely evacuated.

Whatever
machines that once filled the center were now gone.

Kimball
lowered his weapon, slowly, as if dismayed by his surroundings.

The
entire facility had bugged out, leaving a minimal force behind for cosmetics.
Most likely as an excuse to use their deaths against the sortie that was
coming. Iran was bracing itself for war. And Israel was falling right into the
spider’s web.

Eighteen
minutes.

“There’s
nothing here!” yelled Leviticus. “We have to go!”

“Check
the facility for the Ark,” yelled Kimball. “We still have time. Just keep your
head on a swivel, just in case!”

The
Vatican Knights branched out, their weapons at eye level as they moved along
the corridors clearing the way.

With
the exception of a single broken monitor that was lying on its side, the lab
was completely hollow. The only telltale sign that anything existed at all were
the scuff marks along the tiled floor indicating that something of volume had
once stood in its place. To the left was another chamber. And when Kimball
entered he knew immediately that this was the chamber that housed the Ark of
the Covenant.

And
like everything else, it was gone.

“That’s
it,” he finally said. “We’re done! Everybody out!”

The
Knights quickly banded together, exited the facility, and raced for the high
ground of the helipad.

Kimball
spoke into his mike. “Romeo-One, this is Team Leader Bravo! Do you copy?”

“
Copy,
Team Leader Bravo
.”

“Get
that chopper to the extraction point now!”

“
Copy
!”

#

The jets were
zeroing in on
their target and less than fifteen minutes out.

In
Tehran, as expected, they were picked up on radar, a blatant and illegal
incursion into Iranian airspace which drew immediate condemnation from Iranian
officials. In response Iran immediately sent their jets to retaliate, knowing full
well that they were too far away to engage the enemy. But the retaliatory action
was for cosmetics to show the world that Iran was well within its rights to
protect itself as a sovereign country against the Zionist state of Israel.

Of
course they demanded that the Israeli’s turn back.

And
of course the demand went unheeded.

When
the sortie team was less than ten minutes away from their strike point, the
world once again erupted in a fiery blast that sent a mushroom flame high above
Mount Damavand.

#

The two men
at the MG nest were quickly gathered by Kimball’s team and ushered to the
helipad. By the time they got there the Chinook was landing, the rotors kicking
up a wash of dust. As the door opened, the Quds were tossed inside.

“What
are you going to do with them?” asked the pilot.

“If
we leave them here, they’ll die. We’ll let them go at the border,” said
Kimball.

“And
the Ark?”

Kimball
nodded.

Once
the rest of the team boarded, Kimball signaled to the pilot to get the bird
going.

The
rotors quickened, and then the chopper lifted, hovering, then banked and headed
north toward Turkey.

“All
right, Ezra!” Kimball had to yell over the thrumming of the blades. “Light her
up!”

Ezra
typed his fingers furiously against the touch screen of an iPhone, the last tap
having emphasis. A signal was sent through cyberspace and the charges on the
fuel cells went off in synchronized succession starting from left to right, the
cells bursting like dominoes and sending a fiery plume skyward, the cavern
collapsing upon itself. A concussion wave then moved through the air at a rate
of speed faster that the chopper could travel, tossing it violently from side
to side in seesaw fashion before the pilot was able to regain control. Once the
Chinook was stabilized, they then headed for Turkey.

#

At the moment
of the explosion two things happened: First, the Israeli sortie was ordered to
return to base—the precision point of attack, for whatever reason, had been
terminated for reasons unknown. Secondly, the Iranian leadership could not
figure out why the facility destructed prematurely when the sortie was ten
minutes out. So when the Israeli’s headed back, the Iranian government saved
face by puffing out their chest and sent forth a declaration remarking that the
sortie retreated due to the advancement of their own intercepting forces.
Therefore, the Israeli’s did not want to confront a superior power.

Israel, of course, scoffed at this.

But
in the end war was averted.

#

When the
Chinook
landed on the Turkish side of the border, and as the two Quds were
ushered to an unknown point within the Comm Center camp, Kimball entered the
tent where Father Essex sat behind the Comm console watching high-definition
monitors.

Kimball
grabbed his beret and tossed it roughly against the console in disappointment.
“They bugged out,” he said. “They knew they were compromised, so they set up a
neat little package to draw the fly to the honey,” he said tersely. “But they
were expecting Israel to make a strike, not us.”

“It
would have been the catalyst necessary to justify war,” said Father Essex
casually. “Israel would have made accusations regarding weapons of mass
destruction. And Ahmadinejad would have denied everything. So the mission
wasn’t without its merits . . . Even if the Ark is still missing.”

Kimball
took a seat as his anger rushed through him as quickly as the beat of his own
pulse, hard and fast. In his heart he knew he was within reach, perhaps by
hours, only for the Ark to slip through his fingers, most likely under the
cover of darkness when the satellites were at their weakest point of visual
perception.

Kimball
then leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to relax. But he would
not find the comfort necessary to pacify him until he returned to the Vatican on the following day.

CHAPTER FORTY

Tehran
, Iran
, Warehouse District, Two Days After the Assault on The Facility

In the Warehouse
District in southern Tehran, al-Ghazi stood alongside al-Sherrod and other
personnel who milled about a stockroom the size of a football field. The
massive area was vacant, the surrounding floor, for the most part, littered
with debris and rubble, the building having been abandoned long ago. Pigeons
alighting on the overhead beams continued to pass their droppings to the floor.
And the windows, which lined the top tier just below the roofline, were
oxidized, cracked or broken. In the center of the warehouse was a raised platform
surrounded by lights powered by generators. On the center of that platform lay
the Ark of the Covenant, its lid off and to the side, a gold aura fanning out
from its shell against the cast of the reflecting light.

Al-Ghazi
stood back with his hands clasped behind the small of his back and watched his
team rig the Ark with a false bottom.

Before
leaving the facility at Mount Damavand, Sakharov’s techs had engineered a flat
box made of a composite not detectable by x-ray, and then infused it with
nanobots. The flat box, approximately covering the entire floorboard of the Ark and an inch high, would be undetectable once the false bottom was set in place.
Pinprick holes unseen by the naked eye would perforate the false flooring. The
holes appearing like gaping chasms to the bots, since a hundred thousand could
fit on the head of a pin, thereby providing numerous escape routes once the
sound waves stimulated the bots into action. 

They
would then take flight and devour anything organic within a fifteen minute
period, killing without impunity, conscience and simply by design.

Al-Ghazi
watched as his engineers carefully laid the flat box containing the nanobots
along the floor of the Ark, then fitted the false bottom over it so that the
interior appeared uniform and untouched. In further examination they passed
scopes and wands capable of detecting alien composites not existing at the time
the Ark was created. This was done so as not to draw suspicion from scholars examining
the Ark, and then warranting further scrutiny should they detect anomalous
blends not historically existing at that time, such as the composite structure
of the flat box, which was the last thing al-Ghazi wanted. X-rays were then
taken from every angle, the nano container and false bottom going undetected,
the bots all but invisible.

Al-Ghazi
was pleased.

“Should
the initial run succeed, Ahmad, then you will be cast in history as a savior.”
Al-Sherrod smiled with his little, yellow teeth.

But
it wasn’t about punctuating his place in history, he thought. It was about
shining in the eyes of his God.

In
silence they watched the tablets of the Ten Commandments returned, the lid
resettled. The Ark was now ready as it sat there caught within its own nimbus
of light, its glow moving, living, writhing, taking on a life of its own.

“So
how will you introduce it to the infidels?” asked al-Sherrod. “Now that Umar is
no longer the instrument to perform such duties.”

“I
have contacted an Islamic cleric respected by all religious and political authorities,”
he answered. “He is a man who believes that Islamic teachings should be taught
by way of peace rather than jihad—a true pacifist. I told him that the true Ark
of the Covenant was a negotiable item and will be granted as a relic for
cherishment to be shared by all, should he follow certain guidelines.”

“And
how will that benefit us? We agreed that Vatican City would serve as Ground Zero.
Placing it within the authority of Muslim cleric will serve us no purpose.”

Al-Ghazi
raised a hand and patted the air, the gesture telling al-Sherrod to ‘hold on.’
“The Ark is also symbolic to the Jews regarding their Exodus from Egypt under Pharaoh’s rule and Moses’ journey to Mount Sinai, where the commandments were
created by the ‘finger’ of God. This segues into the interest of the Catholics,
who use these commandments as the governing laws of their religion.”

Al-Sherrod
waited.

“Should
the good cleric want to lay his eyes upon the Ark,” continued al-Ghazi, “then
he is bound to share the Ark in good faith with all denominations that hold a
related interest and share in its opening. The Jews. The Muslims. The Catholics—everyone.”

“And
he is in full agreement?”

“He
is a pacifist who is naïve and believes that such a venture is warranted in
promoting good will between the faiths. He sees this as an opportunity to show
the world that the Muslim approach to religion is truly the path of goodness
and peace.” Al-Ghazi walked to the Ark and placed a palm against its gold
shell, his face a blend of yellow and gold within its glow. “I have set the
parameters,” he went on dispassionately, “by telling him that if this was truly
his goal, then he needs to display the Ark at a site for all to share with
religious and political dignitaries in attendance.”

Al-Sherrod
continued to remain silent as al-Ghazi stepped away from the Ark.

Al-Ghazi
faced him. “This cleric doesn’t even know that I’m setting him up as the vehicle
to achieve the means,” he said. “By offering the Ark to promote good will on
his behalf, he is duty bound to adhere by my negotiations without the
dignitaries knowing that I am the one calling the shots. The cleric is merely
voicing my demands through his proxy.”

“And
he is in compliance with this?”

Al-Ghazi
nodded. “Unwittingly for him, yes. He is negotiating with the Zionist and
Catholic factions as we speak. The terms are as follows: The Ark of the
Covenant will be shared by all under mutual authority for the opening to be
held at Vatican City, and then summarily thereafter transported to a neutral
site, which we’re indicating to be Switzerland. He will receive the Ark by way of Jordan, so that it will not be traced back to us.”

“And
these factions readily agreed for the viewing to be held at Vatican City?”

“Not
by the Muslim and Jewish constituency, of course. But the supporting argument
was that there were no neutral grounds in Israel for Muslims, and no neutral
lands in the Arab states for Jews. Vatican City, however, provided neutrality
for all religions without fear of retaliation.”

Al-Sherrod
smiled, obviously impressed. “This cleric, he is esteemed, yes?”

“Very.
He is known to be a gentle man of great faith unwilling to raise a hand in the
name of jihad. Everybody knows this. But he will get the job done by my
direction not knowing that he is partaking in jihad, nonetheless.”

They
looked at the Ark, realizing that Sakharov’s demons were ready to be released.

“You
know they will open the Ark and examine it to make sure there is nothing
amiss,” said al-Sherrod.

“They
will find nothing,” returned al-Ghazi. “The composite of the flat box is
undetectable, as is the false bottom. Their dogs, their Geiger counters, their
electromagnetic meters or biological detection systems will detect nothing
until it’s too late.” For the first time al-Ghazi smiled.

Sakharov’s
technology in its whole was the perfect killing machine.  

And
in his mind’s eye, he could see himself pump his fist in victory.
Allahu
Akbar
! 

#

When the set
up of the Ark was completed, once the gears were set in motion, al-Ghazi chose his team wisely.

He
had chosen a team of four; all committed to the service of Allah, all claiming
to be equally at peace with surrendering their lives without further
consideration. They had been warriors in past skirmishes—whether it was on the
front lines during the Iranian war, or later finding service with al-Qaeda
after freelance fighting. Either way, they were highly skilled in combat
techniques.

In
his setting of his satellite office which overlooked the dust-laden air of the
busy Tehran streets, al-Ghazi briefed his team who sat wherever a seat was
available.

“You
are al-Qaeda,” he told them. It was the way he started every briefing, always
reminding those as to who and what they were, soldiers of war. “You have been
given a wonderful opportunity for martyrdom,” he said. “A wonderful
opportunity.”

And
then al-Ghazi assigned them their duties in explicit detail from their arrival
in Vatican City to their final moment of their lives. Sayyid, the most
experienced in computer technology, was assigned to be the trigger man to
initiate the program that stimulated the bots. The other three would act as
buffers keeping anyone from getting close.

They
would go in silently, set up a station where the frequency from Sayyid’s could
be engaged, and set the nanobots alight. All he needed was thirty seconds.

Thirty
. . . seconds
.

Should
security attempt to stop them, then they would come up against the buffers.

Reaching
into the drawer of his desk, al-Ghazi removed a brand new laptop and slid it
across the desk toward Sayyid. “There’s a program embedded in that computer as
an encrypted cipher,” he told him. “It’s encrypted to ensure that the data on
board will not be appropriated from outside sources, should you be compromised.
You will commit to memory a series of commands that will enable you to decipher
and initiate the process. On the final command a series of speakers within the
flat box will set off sound waves that will stimulate the bots. Only you will
have this information, Sayyid, and no one else. Not even your team.” He fell
back into his seat, looking casual. “Do you have any questions?”

“None,
al-Ghazi.” Sayyid took the laptop and ran his fingertips over the smooth cover,
a seemingly loving caress.  

“Then
Allah will favor you all and Paradise will be yours,” he said. And then: “
Allahu
Akbar
!”

In
unison from his team: “
Allahu Akbar
!”