by Will Adams
‘Tachash?’ asked Luke.
‘It’s a kind of fur,’ said Jay. ‘Though no one’s quite sure from which animal.’ He stroked it against its nap to raise it. ‘But Newton followed the King James Version of the Bible, and the King James translates it as badger.’
‘So they built this to bring it here?’ asked Rachel.
Jay didn’t answer, his attention seized instead by a large oval cut in the bottom of the chest, the exact same shape and size as the base of the Ark itself. He smiled when he saw how it worked. He found and released a pair of latches holding the front half of the floor panel in place, then slid it out and set it aside. Now the chest could be carried over to the Ark and fitted snugly around it. The floor panel would then slot back in and lock around the base of the Ark like the collar of a guillotine around the neck of its next victim. Slide the velvet mould back in and fix it in place with the front panel and the Ark would be ready for moving without anyone having touched it at all.
The thought reminded him that he was here for a reason. He went around to the front and found the goyim with their hands all over the Ark. ‘Stop that!’ he commanded, his voice sounding imperious even to himself. ‘Put that lid back on.’
Croke gave him a sour look. ‘You’re here to observe,’ he said.
‘Don’t you realize what this is?’ asked Jay. ‘We take our time with it. We handle it with respect. And no one touches it. No one but me.’
‘But-’
‘Only a Kohen may touch the Ark, on pain of death. On pain of death. I am a Kohen. Are there any other Kohens here?’ And he looked so belligerently around the chamber that no one said a word.
THIRTY-EIGHT
I
Luke and Rachel watched anxiously as the Ark was packed into the large oak chest and was then hoisted by crane up to the crypt. Whatever fate Croke had planned for them, they were surely about to discover it. So it came as an intense relief to learn they’d be going with it. Walters covered Luke with his taser while Kieran cut a fat strip from a roll of surgical tape and made to gag him. ‘There’s no need for that,’ Luke assured him. ‘I gave you my word.’
‘Sure,’ snorted Walters. ‘And if you think we trust you …’
Kieran stuck the tape across his mouth, then did the same to Rachel. He and Walters then manhandled them up the ladder, handcuffed them when they got to the top, then took them out of the cathedral. A vast white canopy had been rigged up over the front plaza, large enough for two heavy vehicles to be parked inside it: a lorry hauling a container emblazoned with nuclear hazard warnings and a windowless white security truck, to which they were now taken. The three oak chests were already loaded along its spine, constricting the legroom of the bench seats that ran down either side. Walters herded them all the way in, made them sit side by side facing the largest chest. He briefly undid one of Luke’s cuffs to loop the chain through a brass handle, thus securing him to it. He did the same with Rachel, then checked to make sure his team were all inside. Satisfied, he closed and bolted the rear doors then gave the side of the truck a loud double thump.
It was time to roll.
II
Croke put on a yellow police bib before climbing into the front of the security truck. ‘Another quiet night in, eh, boss?’ said Manfredo, already at the wheel.
‘Another quiet night in.’
Morgenstern was on the cathedral steps. He’d be staying behind to supervise the re-plugging of the crypt floor before taking a chopper to USAF Lakenheath to meet the convoy. Croke waved to let him know they were ready, and to thank him for his help. Morgenstern relayed the signal to the driver of the nuclear container. Its lights came on. Its engine started to rumble. It began slowly to move, nudging its nose like a curious dog against the parting curtains of the canvas canopy then slipping out between them.
The security truck followed immediately behind. The sun had set, and they were greeted by a dazzling wildfire of camera flashes that made Croke blink despite their tinted windscreen. The first eruption died away; it grew diffuse. The spotlights of TV helicopters tracked them as a police escort formed around them. Blue lights flashed in synchrony as they forced a path through the crowds to Ludgate Hill, and sirens suddenly began to blare in a hideous concerted screech of noise. They picked up speed, though not too much. They were, after all, supposed to be carrying a dirty bomb.
All the feeder roads had been closed off by the police, so that there was no traffic to negotiate, no need to wait for lights. They reached the Limehouse Link and plunged down into its mouth. The white-tiled walls and compressed space reflected their sirens and lights, like some devilish nightclub. The tunnel was a mile long, with lay-bys for breakdowns every hundred yards or so. Two nondescript vans were waiting in the first. Manfredo braked sharply to drop off the back of the convoy and pull in beside them. A second security truck, indistinguishable from their own, was parked in the next lay-by along. It began to pull out the moment the last police outrider had passed, then accelerated to catch up with the convoy before it left the tunnel. In the nocturnal gloom, surrounded by this riot of noise and light, it would take a freakishly smart-eyed observer to notice the switch.
Croke opened the passenger door, jumped down, went around back. Working together, they all heaved the two smaller chests into the first van; the larger, along with Luke and Rachel, into the second. They locked up the security truck, covered it with a blue tarpaulin, then they divided into the two vans, Manfredo and Kieran taking the respective wheels. They drove on a short distance and pulled into another lay-by halfway along the tunnel. Then they waited.
It was another five minutes before the police opened their roadblocks and the first few headlights appeared in their rear-views. Manfredo and Kieran now pulled out well ahead of them, emerging unheralded and unobserved from the eastern mouth of the tunnel a minute later, before proceeding in a far more discreet convoy to City Airport.
THIRTY-NINE
I
There were no benches in the back of the new van, so Luke and Rachel had to kneel on the bare metal floor as though in supplication to the Ark. It was gloomier here than in the truck too, with only a single, low-powered roof light. Luke raised an eyebrow at Rachel, about the only communication available with his mouth still taped. She raised both hers in response. The way the skin crinkled around her eyes made it look almost as though she were smiling. Her courage was astonishing to him, and gave him heart. He leaned forwards, looked around the van. Walters and Kieran were here, of course. And Jay, too, his eyes fixed on the chest. He noticed Luke looking his way and coloured a little, then he rose to his feet and crouched his way towards them.
‘Where the fuck are you going?’ growled Walters.
‘I want to speak to my friends,’ said Jay.
Walters laughed. ‘In your dreams, mate.’
‘I can still put a stop this mission,’ Jay told him. ‘Would your boss thank you if I did?’
To Luke’s surprise, Walters shrugged and let him by. He knelt beside Luke, picked at the tape over his mouth until he’d got enough up to strip it off. It was a day and a half since Luke had shaved, so that it felt like flame on his skin, but the pleasure of being able to breathe and talk made it more than worthwhile.
‘Do Rachel’s,’ he said.
Jay complied. The skin around her mouth was as red as smeared lipstick. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You mustn’t be afraid,’ said Jay. ‘You’re both still under my protection.’
‘And what happens when that runs out?’
‘It won’t,’ said Jay. ‘Not before Israel. They can’t move the Ark without a Kohen, you see.’
Luke shook his head in disbelief. ‘You can’t honestly believe these people care about that.’
‘Maybe not. But my uncle does. How many times do I have to tell you? Tonight won’t happen without him. It can’t happen without him. Besides, I’m not just here to escort the Ark. I have a far more important job. Something no one else can do, not these people he
re, not even my uncle. Something that requires a true adept.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Luke.
Jay dropped his voice. ‘I know how it works,’ he murmured.
‘How what works?’ frowned Rachel.
‘The Ark, of course.’
She shook her head. ‘What are you talking about?’
Despite the gloom, Jay’s skin seemed to flush. ‘Do you honestly think this is just some ancient chest of wood and gold we’ve found? Why would Ashmole and the others have needed Newton for that? It’s described in great detail in the Book of Exodus, after all. Any craftsman worth his salt could have knocked one up.’
‘Then why did they need him?’
‘Because the Ark is what the Bible says it is, Luke. It’s a weapon. And not just any weapon. It’s the original weapon of mass destruction.’
‘For God’s sake, Jay!’
‘Do you know what they called it, Luke?’ he asked. ‘They called it the Ark of the Strength and Glory of the Lord. They carried it seven times around Jericho and it brought its walls tumbling down.’
‘Jesus, Jay.’
‘And it wasn’t just cities it destroyed. It took out armies. The first Book of Samuel, chapter 6, verse 19. The Ark slew seventy nobles and fifty thousand commoners just for looking wrongly upon it. Fifty thousand. Or the second Book, where the Ark slipped and Uzzah tried to stop it from hitting the ground, and was killed instantly. Or Leviticus 10.’ Jay stood unsteadily, spread his feet and hands wide like a ham actor delivering his big speech. ‘“And Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took either of them his censer, and put fire therein, and put incense thereon, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not. And there went out fire from the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the Lord.”’ He knelt again, looked fiercely back and forth between Luke and Rachel. ‘Strange fire before the Lord. Strange fire. Doesn’t that remind you of anything?’
‘What the hell-’
‘Newton and the other alchemists were after sacred fire. Don’t you think that it’s at least possible that sacred fire and strange fire might be one and the same? That what they were really after was the secret of the Ark of the Covenant? A source of power that could bring down cities, that could destroy armies tens of thousands strong? A source of power that would change the world forever?’ He leaned towards Luke again, lowered his voice. ‘Do you know what alchemical tradition says about how Solomon built his temple? It says he cast spells that trapped djinns and other powerful spirits in magical amphorae, then forced them to do his bidding. Djinns trapped in jars. Strange fire in chests of wood and gold. A source of power to change the world.’ His expression was by now both manic and exultant. ‘Newton understood how it worked, Luke. And so do I. And tomorrow morning I’m going to prove it. Tomorrow morning I’m going to show the world the face of God Himself.’
‘How?’
Jay opened his mouth to answer, but then he blinked and hesitated as he realized how close he’d come to letting on more than he should. He gave Luke a knowing smile, as though to congratulate him for almost tricking him. ‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ he said.
‘Tell me, Jay.’
But he only shook his head again, his fervour dissipating by the moment, shrinking him as it went, leaving him a smaller and a lesser man. ‘Soon enough.’
II
Croke fell silent in the front of the van as they neared City Airport. He was all too aware how critical the next few minutes were. Without the direct protection of the NCT, their little convoy was now far more vulnerable to misadventure, even betrayal. But Morgenstern had done him proud. Two airport security officers were waiting in a marked car as promised. They led them down a supply road to a security fence topped by triple strands of barbed wire, where another guard opened the gate for them as they approached, then closed it again behind them.
They drove across tarmac to the private jet concourse. The security car flashed its lights at a partially open hangar door. Manfredo flashed acknowledgement and drove inside. Croke’s jet was waiting there, his pilot Craig Bray by the open cargo bay, checking pallets of supplies. They pulled up beside him, jumped down. ‘All good?’ asked Croke.
‘Better than good,’ nodded Bray. ‘They signed off our paperwork blind. And they’ve given us priority clearance. They must think you’re God Himself.’
Croke laughed. ‘Closer than you’d think.’
Bray kicked one of the pallets. ‘We’re to load these, yeah? They were sent for my attention by some guy called Jakob Kohen. Only there’s enough acid in here to bathe all the brides you could ever ask for.’
‘Give me a moment,’ said Croke. He went around the back of the van, found Kohen chatting with Luke and Rachel. ‘What the fuck?’ he asked Walters.
‘He threatened to scupper the mission.’
Croke scowled. The little prick was getting on his nerves. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Put his friends on board. And stay with them. I don’t want them trying anything.’
‘You got it, boss.’
Croke beckoned to Kohen. ‘Your supplies are here,’ he said. ‘Do you want to double-check them or shall we just load?’
‘I want to double-check them.’
‘Fine,’ said Croke. ‘But first we need to talk to your uncle.’
FORTY
I
It was past midnight in Jerusalem when Avram finally received his nephew’s call. ‘It’s real?’ he asked.
‘It’s real, Uncle,’ Jakob assured him, his excitement audible despite the distance. ‘I saw it. I touched it.’
‘You touched it?’
‘Only to pack it. We’re loading it on to the plane now. We’ll be in the air soon.’
‘Good. And well done.’
‘Thank you, Uncle.’
‘Is the man Croke with you? I need to speak with him.’
‘He’s here. I’ll put him on now.’
‘I trust you’re satisfied,’ said Croke when Jay handed him the phone.
‘I’m satisfied,’ said Avram.
‘Then you’re going in?’
‘When people are asleep. But please remember that I’ll wait until the Ark is here before I bring down the Dome.’
‘I know the plan,’ said Croke.
‘I know you know the plan,’ said Avram. ‘I want to make sure you bear the plan in mind as you’re flying across the Mediterranean with the Ark in your hold. I want you to remember that I’ll be monitoring your course all they way on a flight-tracking website, and that I’ll call my nephew should I see any deviation.’
‘I said I know the plan, Avram. I’ll see you in Jerusalem.’
‘In Jerusalem,’ agreed Avram.
II
Luke watched warily as Walters crouched his way inside the van. ‘I’m not to hurt you,’ he told him and Rachel, showing them the taser. ‘Not unless you try something. So please try something. Pretty please.’ He unlocked Rachel’s right cuff, released her from the chest handle, cuffed her to Luke instead. Then he removed and pocketed Luke’s cuffs. ‘On your feet,’ he said.
Getting down from the back was awkward, attached together as they were. They found themselves in an aircraft hangar so vast that it made the sleek white jet inside it look small. Walters herded them to and up the forward steps. They turned away from the cockpit, passed between toilets and some kind of hi-tech comms’ suite into a passenger cabin opulently fitted in white leather and polished walnut. There were two banks of seats on either side. They currently all faced forwards but Walters swivelled the front left bank one hundred and eighty degrees, locked it in place. ‘Sit,’ he said. They sat. He took out the second pair of cuffs, closed one around the central seat-belt fitting, the other around the chain of the handcuffs shackling Luke to Rachel, thus securing them neatly to their seats. ‘Comfy?’ he asked.
‘A glass of champagne wouldn’t hurt,’ said Luke.
Walters snorted. ‘I’m going to enjoy how this flight ends,’ he said.
‘Why’s that?’ asked Luke, striving to sound casual, not quite succeeding.
Walters sat sideways on the facing bank, put his right foot up on the white leather to flaunt his freedom. ‘All in good time.’
Luke nodded. ‘I have to tell you something,’ he said. ‘I think your loyalty does you credit.’
‘My loyalty?’
‘Sure. Your boss is bound to need a scapegoat when all this is over. And it’s got to be you, right? I mean you’re already up to your neck in shit for murdering Rachel’s aunt, so you’re-’
‘I didn’t murder her.’
‘… the obvious candidate and I-’
‘I never even touched her.’
‘… just think it’s commendable that you’d sacrifice yourself so that he can-’
Walters leaned forwards, jabbed his taser into Luke’s chest and gave him a vengeful two-second burst that made him arch and yell in pain. ‘Do you honestly think you can drive a wedge between me and the boss?’ Walters asked rhetorically, tucking the weapon back into his waistband. ‘Think a-fucking-gain.’ But there was a more reflective look in his eyes, for all the bravado of his words. Not much. But something, perhaps, for Luke and Rachel to work with.
III
There were advantages for Avram in leaving the assault until the last moment before the first call to prayer of the new day. People would be at their sleepiest. It would mean having to hold the Dome for a shorter time before dawn and Croke arrived. But there was one major disadvantage too. Jerusalem’s Old City virtually closed down by night, so that the later they left it, the more conspicuous they’d be, the more likely to attract the attention of the IDF and the police.