The bull shark clamped his jaw one last time, then thrashed its tail, sliding back down into the water. His eyes, though, his eyes said, We’ll meet again.
Fucking bull sharks. Great whites usually accidently bit you. They wanted seals. Once they took a bite and figured out you tasted bad, they were more than likely to spit you back out, giving you a chance to survive.
The bull shark? No such luck. They bit and held on—tight. If they did happen to let you go, it was only for a moment. They latched right back on. They were ferocious and committed to eating whatever they had caught.
Not a good combination.
“It’s working!” Levont announced, and sure enough, the back of the plane wasn’t quite as underwater as a moment before.
But then the water churned as several dorsal fins cut the water. Rebecca clung to Brandt as Lopez’s head popped above the waves. Just as a shark lunged for him, Lopez hit the shark square in the nose with a pack. The beast reeled away as Lopez tossed the bag onto the plane.
Brandt rushed over to help Levont haul the corporal out of the water, while Davidson filmed it all, of course.
Lopez pulled a string of life vests after him as well. “I’ve got four vests that—”Another shark jumped out of the water, snagging the last vest, cutting the line, taking his prize with him. “Make that three vests.”
“Ricky!” Rebecca chided him, helping him climb farther up the plane.
Lopez shook off all the help. Instead, he dropped to his knees and opened the gear that he’d salvaged. It was a pack of two rather large lifeboats. He pulled the cord and they began to fill with air.
“What the…?” Levont said, dancing back from the inflating rafts.
Lopez shook his head, spraying water on all of them. “Please, these experimental planes crash as often as they land. They’ve got the most sophisticated emergency rescue equipment on the planet.”
“You are expecting us to take those out…in those waters?”
It wouldn’t be long before sharks realized that rubber was not tooth-proof.
“Nah,” Lopez stated. “Levont, let’s put those muscles to work.”
Actually, it took Levont, Rebecca, and himself to maneuver the first life raft under the wing and secure it. The second was easier to position. Suddenly, their sinking plane was now floating peacefully on the sea.
Lopez grabbed two paddles and held them up. “Who wants to row?”
* * *
Frellan breathed in the stale oxygen of his face mask. The pilot and copilot were both dead, along with two of their men. The rest braced themselves against the back of the chairs, keeping their heads above water.
The water was surprisingly warm, almost soothing. God’s small gift to them.
“We’ve got to find a way out,” Monnie complained, as was her want.
He indicated out the window where a shark tail glided past. “Feel free.” Because beyond the sharks were bright flashes of red and orange. As a matter of fact, their jet had gone down nose first into a lava flow. Slowly, they drifted down the molten slope.
So perhaps he should not have characterized the pilot and copilot as dead. They were more dissolved down to their elemental components than simply deceased.
“I do have to say,” Benedicto said, pulling his mask away for a moment, “the Disciples know how to treat a guest.”
“How long will the oxygen last?” Monnie asked.
Frellan did not bother to answer her. Their SOS had gone out. They were only a few miles off the coast of Israel. If there was anywhere to crash-land into a volcano surrounded by sharks, it was here.
He looked over to Mikhal, who stood stoically as always. Without even a mask on. Frellan would never speak it aloud, but standing here, waiting while sharks circled, he began to understand the sniper perhaps a bit more.
“We can’t have more than a half an hour of oxygen,” Monnie informed the group.
Ah, dear sweet innocent Monnie. Now she had stirred fear. Fear he would now need to extinguish. He gave the slightest nod to Mikhal. Three muted pops sounded and half of their mercenaries slumped forward, abandoning their now useless oxygen masks.
Monnie sucked hard on her mask, those pretty green eyes of hers dilating. She did, however, quiet.
Sometimes stillness did win the game.
CHAPTER 26
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Undisclosed Location
3:27 p.m. (EST)
Bunny burst in to find the attic in just as much disarray as she had left it. Stark’s mom was right behind her.
“Oh, honey,” she chided, “how many times have I told you to bring your dishes downstairs?”
“Mom!” Stark exclaimed, pointing to the all the red flashing lights.
The woman gave out a heavy sigh as she sat down at a workstation. “All’s I am saying is a messy desk leads to a messy mind.”
“I’m sorry,” Prenner said, shaking his head as the woman logged in. “But we can’t have a someone without the proper—”
Stark stood up. “Look. My mom might or might not have been on the FBI’s most wanted cyber crimes list during the nineties. She may or may not be in the Witness Protection Program. She may or may not be foreign royalty.” He put his hands on his mom’s shoulders. “What I can say for sure is that she is the best damn hacker I know. If we want to save Brandt and the rest, we’ve got to let her help.”
Finally, Prenner nodded.
Stark’s mom patted her son’s hand. “That was so sweet, dear. However, it isn’t going to get you out of trouble for laying down such sloppy code. Your reliance on spaghetti code is really not doing you any good.”
“Mom,” Stark complained as he sat down at the desk again.
Bunny looked up as footage of a volcano played out. “What’s that?”
“Oh,” Emily chimed in, “there are now four volcanoes in the Mediterranean, Rebecca’s plane crashed, and Vakasa’s micro-tremors have stopped.”
“Oh, is that all?” Bunny groaned. She just went downstairs and maybe grabbed a Tab cola, but that was it.
Stark’s mom nodded to the screen. “Hon, you worry about where that little girl got off to. I’ll handle this hacker punk.”
Immediately, the red flashing lights faded out as the normal lights came back on, and then there was silence. No alarms. No buzzers. No klaxons.
For the first time in two days, Bunny felt like they might actually be in control.
* * *
Brandt sloshed through the shoreline waters of Palmahim, a small Israeli beachside resort. He carried Rebecca in his arms. Not that she was injured, they just needed her to look injured.
The other men followed along, abandoning their floating plane. They’d hit the shore just in time, as the hold had taken on too much water for even the lifeboats to hold up. A crowd met them at the water’s edge.
Davidson explained in Hebrew that their plane had been downed by the volcano and that Rebecca needed immediate medical help. For once, it was a good thing there wasn’t a doctor in the house.
One of the older men pointed to his old beat-up Hyundai pickup truck. He handed the keys off to Davidson. That was the kid for you. Even scarred up, he could charm the coat off an Eskimo.
Brandt loaded his fiancée into the back as the other men piled into the cab. He hugged Rebecca close as Lopez pulled them out of the seaside parking lot and onto the road. Not until they turned the corner, heading east toward Jerusalem, did Brandt let her up.
“Great job.”
“I didn’t have to dig all that deep to play injured.”
They both watched the new volcanoes sputter and spew. They were throwing up more ash than lava now. The sky becoming a dark-gray smudge. The sun barely peeked out from the horizon, flaring its last rays. If these explosions were anything like the Icelandic Eyjafjöll eruption, they wouldn’t be seeing the sun for a few days, if not weeks. More than likely, air travel all over Europe and the Middle East would grind to a halt
. Perhaps as far as Western Asia and Northern Africa.
Even if command wanted to send them support, they were shit out of luck now.
As the sun set on the glowing volcanoes, Rebecca looked toward the east. “Do you think Vanderwalt would really hurt her?”
Frowning, Brandt sighed. “A few hours ago, I would have said no way, no how. Of course, at that point, I thought Talli was a sniper too.”
Rebecca lightly punched his leg. “No, you didn’t.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I guess that one didn’t come as a complete shocker.”
She snuggled up against him as they finished their most unusual pilgrimage.
* * *
“Where are they going?” Emily asked, pointing to the map of Israel. The last-known trajectory of Vanderwalt’s plane showed them heading northeast of Jerusalem.
No matter how long Bunny stared at the screen, it made no sense. Unless, of course, they were shooting for Syria. Which made even less sense.
Jerusalem, now Jerusalem had made sense. Where else do you go if you’ve got the next Messiah? The city was rich in religious history. That is what made it such a political hot potato. The Jews, Christians, and Muslims all claimed the ancient city for their own.
In addition, the area under the Temple Mount had never been excavated due to political tension between the three religious groups. Who knew what was under there? So Vanderwalt should be heading to Jerusalem. He could visit the site of Christ’s crucifixion. He could visit the Wailing Wall. He could visit half a dozen historic sites, yet he had flown past them all.
Why?
Unfortunately, she was the one tasked with the question. Bunny laid aside the “shoulds” and “wouldn’t it make more senses.” She went back to her roots. Ancient civilization for a thousand.
Jerusalem had been the capital of Israel for millennia.
Wait.
It wasn’t the first capital.
“Bring up an ancient map,” Bunny asked Stark. The tech complied, even though he looked confused. “Now overlay the flight path.”
“I’m not sure what—”
“Do it.”
There it was—Shiloh. Israel’s first capital. Now it was just a small village out in the middle of nowhere.
“That’s it,” Bunny stated. “That is where they are headed.”
“Why?” Prenner asked.
“I don’t know why,” Bunny admitted. “I just know that Shiloh is the only place they could be going.”
“Damn, she’s right,” Stark added. “Vanderwalt is making their descent.”
Bunny looked to Prenner. “So how about we figure out how to tell Rebecca and the others before they get all the way to Jerusalem?”
They all looked to the sat phone that perched on the desk. Bunny snatched it up and dialed, but got the same response she’d gotten all evening. Nothing.
Stark’s mother sighed. “Think outside the box, son. Think big. Think wide.”
The tech smiled and gave his mother a high five. “You know it.”
“Going to share?” Prenner asked.
“Nope.”
* * *
Yet again, Lopez hit a pothole in the road a tad too fast and nearly popped Rebecca and Brandt out of the back of the truck. Seriously, this truck ride was more traumatic than the last few rides, and that included volcanic eruptions, a sideways bump of the airport wall, and a crash landing into the Congo. Her kidneys were never going to forgive her.
They were passing through the town of Ramia, heading due east for Jerusalem. Less than an hour out, Rebecca tried to rest but couldn’t. Too much was at stake. And Jerusalem was a large city. She could only assume Vanderwalt would head for the old city, but she couldn’t take any chances. She had to turn the history of the biblical city over and over again.
Finally, Lopez slowed as they reached the heart of Ramia. For so late in the evening, there were a lot of people out. Mainly gawking at the sky and the fiery display off in the Mediterranean. Stores were still open, accommodating the crowd, she supposed.
She had gone back to her contemplations when Davidson banged the side of his fist against the truck’s back window. He was saying something, gesticulating to the people on the sidewalk, but Rebecca had no idea what he meant.
“They are all checking their phones,” Brandt said next to her.
He was right. Every single person was looking to his or her cell phone. But why?
Then they passed an electronics store. Each and every television, computer screen, and tablet flashed one word. “Shiloh.”
Shiloh?
Lopez picked up speed as they headed out of the town center. He was about to get onto the 1-Freeway headed east to Jerusalem. Rebecca pounded on the window.
“No! Go north!” she shouted. “Take the Six-Interchange.”
Apparently, they were having as much trouble hearing her as she had hearing them.
Brandt rose up, leaned through the driver’s side window into the cab of the truck, and pulled the wheel to the left.
Well, that did the trick, as they cut across two lanes of traffic and hit the on-ramp at an angle.
Lopez corrected their skid and off to Shiloh they were.
* * *
The shark thrashed away from the plane as Frellan’s diver sent an electric shock through its snout. Bull sharks were determined, but not that determined. The diver waved the survivors away from the side emergency door, then used a handheld hydraulic expander to pop open the hatch.
Taking a deep breath from the waning oxygen mask, Frellan pushed off the seat and was helped out by the diver. As sharks circled, swishing their strong tails in frustration, his small group made their way to the surface.
Breaking water, Frellan could not help but gasp. The world was redone. Molten lava shown brightly in the night as four new volcanoes rose proudly from the sea. The sky was completely obscured by the ashen clouds roiling overhead.
Hooked up to a harness, Frellan and the others were brought aboard a marine helicopter, which was having a bit of trouble staying in the air as winds ripped across the open sea. Once aboard, he reached out a hand to Monnie.
“Ye of little faith.”
She did not retort. She simply bowed her head as she made her way to her seat.
Benedicto, though, clapped Frellan on the shoulder. “It does all seem a bit Biblical, does it not?” When Frellan didn’t answer, the priest chuckled. “Quite the time to be a religious zealot!”
Frellan did not grace the man with a response. He only looked across to Mikhal. They seemed to have reached an understanding on the plane. With a single flicker of his eyes, Frellan marked the priest for death.
Once the girl was found, Frellan would be rid of them all.
* * *
“Got ‘em!” Stark cried out, bringing into focus a satellite image of the truck. He then brought up another five shots of Brandt’s team heading north.
“Where did you get those?” Emily asked.
“Um? In this part of the world? We’ve got enough satellites tasked to the region to have a sat-link smorgasbord.”
To prove his point, Stark brought up another half dozen images of Brandt and the others take the turn away from Jerusalem to Shiloh. So Stark taking over the airwaves had worked.
“So what is Vanderwalt’s end game?” Prenner asked.
“No idea,” Stark said. “But they landed in a small regional airport just ten miles outside of Shiloh.”
“Again,” Emily stated, “why Shiloh?”
Bunny had been sorting through that as well. “Well, Shiloh was the first capital of ancient Israel.”
“I thought Jerusalem was?” Prenner asked.
She shook her head. “Nope, it was Shiloh for three hundred years before King Solomon built the First Temple in Jerusalem.”
“Even so, I don’t get it,” Emily stated. “Why take Vakasa to the old capital? Why not Jerusalem? There is just so much more history there.”
As Bunny geared up, Stark
flipped through several stills of Vanderwalt. The group got into several cars and headed out. “You want history? Did you know that there were over one hundred and forty-seven legends about King Solomon?”
Clearly, this group did not.
“Lost ‘em,” Stark said, working the multiple satellite feeds.
While he tried to pick up Vanderwalt again, Bunny continued. “I think the single most incredible thing about King Solomon is in how high a regard we hold him,” Bunny hurried on. “Sure, he seemed wise—the whole ‘cut the baby in half’ thing and he built the temple—but he had over seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, and let’s face it, some of the exploits are pretty weird.”
“Bunny,” Emily said, unconsciously touching the cross around her neck. Amazing how open-minded people could be until you brought your point too close to home.
“Besides being able to fly and control demons,” Bunny explained, “the part that affects us is the fact that, later in life, he seemed to have a crisis of faith. He began building temples for his many, many, many wives. Foreign gods. Pagan gods.”
“Got them!” Stark announced bringing up a live feed of Vanderwalt’s groups pulling up to the one and only site of interest of the present-day Shiloh.
“Should we try to contact Brandt?” Stark asked. Alarms blared as red lights flashed again. Firewall number nine had just gone down. “Mom?”
The woman furiously typed. “This isn’t a hacker. This is a team of hackers. We’ve got a full-on daisy-chained siege going on.”
Bunny wasn’t quite sure what that meant, only that it was bad. Super bad. She patted Stark on the back. “Don’t worry about Rebecca. She’ll figure out where she needs to go. Help shore up our last firewall.”
Bunny glanced up to the screen showing Brandt and the others entering Shiloh. They’d made great time—Lopez was driving, after all. But Vanderwalt had over an hour lead time.
Could they catch up to Vakasa in time?
* * *
Brandt helped lift Rebecca from the back of the truck and to the ground outside of what looked like a tabernacle, a Jewish holy place once used to worship in the open desert. Only, it wasn’t created as a tent, but fashioned out of wood. While it seemed to be a fairly accurate replica of the biblical Tabernacle of Moses, it didn’t exactly look like the site to unveil a messiah.
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