Chosen

by Lisa T. Bergren

  “The guys on the Haram! They’re shooting at us!”

  Soldiers, half crouched, ran this way and that. Men screamed as they were hit. Others yelled orders or cried out for help. A Palestinian policeman dove and rolled five feet away, shooting back as soon as he could aim again.

  Periodically, Steve took in several deep breaths and stood, shooting footage of the most amazing event to hit Jerusalem since the 1967 war.

  “Get down, you idiot!” Ridge yelled.

  Steve ducked just as a bullet nicked the stone above him, chipping off a four-inch corner as if it were sand. Steve stared at the corner and then over at Ridge. Their eyes met. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay down!” he yelled. “But only if you haul over here and let me get you shooting a report!”

  Ridge hesitated, then wondered at his hesitation. A year before he would have moved without thinking, concentrating only on getting the story and prizewinning footage with it. But there was someone who counted on him now. Someone who depended on him to live. And deep inside, he knew that God was urging him not to make foolish choices. His life was precious, and there was greater reason than ever before to preserve it.

  He shook his head at Steve. “When it cools off a bit!”

  Steve stared back at him, but accepted Ridge’s decision without argument. “When you’re ready,” he mouthed over the gunfire.

  The three men watched without further comment as the troops fell into line, their sergeants and captains bringing order to the chaos. As one, they donned their gas masks. Glancing over, Ridge saw that Steve was getting the entire event on film.

  A captain yelled out orders as three snipers stood high above, shooting at his men. Soldiers below fell even as tear gas grenades were fired and waves of men stormed the entry ramp to the Haram.

  With the attention of the snipers diverted, Ridge rushed over to Steve, who cut back and forth between his partner’s report and the action above them. Ridge swallowed hard after completing the speech he had rehearsed in his head, knowing that this news might initiate World War III if the soldiers did not successfully wrest control from the Hamas renegades. “This is Ridge McIntyre for CNN, Jerusalem,” he finished wearily.

  Steve’s camera whipped back to the ramp. He stood without fear, confident that the sharpshooters above had their hands full with the men who were attacking them.

  Within minutes it was over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Ridge pushed through the crowds and, when the guards were busy, attempted to nonchalantly pass the checkpoint. Steve and Sam followed right behind him.

  “You there! Stop!” a male voice called loudly in Hebrew.

  Ridge did not pause to look. He waved his press pass as if it wielded the power to open the White House’s front door.

  The guard apparently did not appreciate the power of the press and again yelled for them to stop. Ridge, Steve, and Sam froze as they heard several soldiers take off, running, after them. Within seconds, several M-16s were leveled at their heads.

  Ridge squared his shoulders. “Where is your captain?” he responded harshly in Hebrew, staring the young soldier down. The man—who was little more than a boy—searched over his own shoulder, looking for a voice of authority to assure him he had done the right thing.

  “Where is your captain?” Ridge demanded again. He knew how to say little else in Hebrew, having found that this one lone phrase generally brought about the results he desired.

  Sam picked up where he left off. “This is Ridge McIntyre and Steve Rains with CNN, and they have unlimited access to the Solomon’s Stables excavation,” Sam explained in an appeasing, yet firm manner. “I am Dr. Samuel Roarke. My sister, Dr. Alexana Roarke, was leader of the Solomon’s Stables dig. She is missing. We have reason to believe that she is below.”

  The soldier studied him for several seconds, weighing his options. “You have identification?” he finally asked.

  “I do,” Sam said. He looked around at the soldiers, who were still pointing loaded weapons at him. “I’m reaching for my wallet now. Everyone take a deep breath.”

  He handed his ID to the young soldier. Again, the boy looked over his shoulder, but he could see no superior to summon. Speaking quietly, he dispatched one of his fellow soldiers to search for their captain while he studied Sam’s papers, apparently unwilling to take on the responsibility of allowing the threesome through.

  The other soldier returned within minutes, accompanied by a commander who seemed none too pleased that American journalists were on the Temple Mount. A Palestinian patrol of eight men passed while making rounds of the Haram. It was one of ten groups Ridge had counted since they had arrived. The Israeli and Palestinian police were taking no chances of another overthrow; Ridge was confident that they would maintain control from that point on.

  Behind the Israeli commander stood two Palestinian leaders and three men who were obviously CIA. “Oh, brother,” Ridge muttered. “Here comes the mighty one and his entourage.”

  “Ply him with good publicity,” Steve said under his breath as they neared. “It might buy us some leeway.”

  Before the man had a chance to speak, Ridge reached out his hand and flashed a smile. “Hello. Ridge McIntyre, CNN. General, can you tell me about the astounding progress you’ve made here?”

  The American agents interrupted, long accustomed to the schemes used by their country’s press. “Sorry, Mr. McIntyre. You and your friends must vacate the premises immediately. This area is secured.”

  “If I could just get a comment for the camera,” Ridge said, motioning to Steve. On cue, Steve turned on the Betacam, blinding the entire group for several seconds.

  It was all the lead that Sam needed. Quickly, he slid behind a column of the El Aksa Mosque and, heart pounding, ran toward the far side. The commander noticed the missing man moments later and screamed for soldiers to find him.

  By the time they located Sam, he had already reached the dig site. He stood at the edge of the hole, dumbfounded, unable to go any farther. A thousand pounds of steel stood between himself and where he was sure his sister lay.

  Ridge and Steve ran up behind the soldiers. Ridge fell to his knees, shouting Alexana’s name as he helplessly pulled at the monolith at his feet.

  He turned to the commander, all manner of pretense gone. “Alexana Roarke! Dr. Alexana Roarke! She’s down there! And if she dies while you sit around, it will be on your head!”

  The man frowned and studied Ridge for a moment longer. Then he waved for his men to lead the intruders away, exhausted after monitoring the tension-filled hours of upheaval on the Haram.

  All three men had to be dragged from the site.

  Two hours later Samuel Roarke Sr. had finally convinced several key officials that his daughter might indeed be trapped beneath the Haram. In conjunction with an investigation geared toward measuring the damage that had been inflicted by the renegade Hamas troops, the authorities allowed a team of government employees to remove the iron ramp from the entrance to the dig site.

  Furious at the delay, Ridge spoke to no one. He glared at the soldiers as he passed the checkpoint, certain they had carelessly endangered Alexana’s life even further. Desperately, he called out in prayer to the Lord but found no comfort. He was too wrapped up in his own anger to sense God’s presence.

  This left him feeling cold and empty, and fearful that he had lost the one woman he had loved the most. Dear God, he petitioned, please let her be okay. Is this emptiness I feel a sign that she is dead? The thought alone made him want to give in to stomach-wrenching sobs. He swallowed hard against the ache in his throat, determined not to cry. Instead, he concentrated on his fury.

  To him, the team seemed to take an interminable amount of time to get the steel ramp away from the entry. Ridge paced and desperately searched his soul for the warm comfort he had once found in the Church of All Nations. I let go of myself, he remembered. I believed. I just believed. In his mind he could hear Alexana say it as she had that Palm Sunday. Believe.
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  Immediately a rush of heat flowed through his body, and his senses seemed to sharpen tenfold. Ridge looked over at Sam and the elder Roarke, who stood beside him. “He’s here,” Ridge said firmly. “God is here. He’s been watching over Alexana. She’s alive.”

  The men raised their eyebrows at his statement but nodded, seeming to find comfort in his words. They never took their eyes off the workmen.

  With a deafening scrape, the plate was lifted off by huge cables, turned, and deposited back inside to once again create a walkway. When the machinery was turned off and the dust had settled, the workers stepped forward and lined the dark hole.

  A searchlight cut into the darkness below.

  For a moment, no one moved. They waited, listening, as their eyes adjusted to the extreme light of the spotlight.

  They were greeted by complete, utter silence.

  Ridge grabbed a flashlight from a young Palestinian’s hand and rushed down the ramp. The way was clear before him, but all about, deep shadows remained. His light caught the heavy dust clouds that still stirred, and he shivered. He did not pause to consider what the frigid temperature had done to Alexana. His sole purpose was to find her.

  Sam was right behind him, followed by Steve, who turned on his Betacam to film the event.

  “No camera!” Ridge growled, terrified at what they might find. This was far too private a moment to let the world in on. He wanted Alexana in his arms, dead or alive, and it was nobody’s business outside of the Temple Mount’s walls what they found.

  The light went off, then Steve turned it on again. “I’m not filming, man. Just using the light.”

  Ridge turned face forward again and shouted. “Alexana!”

  “Alexana!” Sam repeated.

  There was no response to their cry.

  “Alexana!” Sam called again.

  “Over here!” Steve yelled. He swore softly as he hastily set aside his camera and ran toward the woman. “Over here!” he shouted again, fighting to keep the edge of hysteria from his voice. He lifted her hand, deadly cold, as Ridge reached them.

  Grimly, Ridge felt for a pulse. “Come on, Sana, come on,” he muttered forcefully between clenched teeth. The three men waited silently, not daring to breathe. At long last, Ridge laughed gleefully. “I feel a heartbeat. It’s faint, but she’s alive!”

  Sam ran to the base of the ramp to call for help. “She’s down here! We need an ambulance!”

  Ridge found a rock and pounded at a rusty link in the chains that held Alexana. As the bindings broke, he tenderly lifted her in his arms, emotions flooding his heart.

  He carried her to the ramp, looking up into the stream of light as if he were climbing toward the gates of heaven. “I’ve got you, love. You’re going to be okay, Sana,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, as much for himself as for her. “God’s seen you through too much to let you die now.

  “You’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Ridge continued gently as he reached the top and was surrounded by people. In a moment that felt surreal, he walked toward a medical chopper, its blades whirring soundlessly.

  To Ridge, it felt as though he and Alexana were alone on the Temple Mount with God himself. From above, a brilliant column of light—which he later learned was more searchlights—followed their path. As the helicopter lifted her away, the whopping sound suddenly became audible to him, and Ridge looked across the column of light.

  For one short instant, Ridge could have sworn he saw a bearded man in rags.

  Behind the beggar stood two men in robes.

  Then, in the blink of an eye, the only people visible were soldiers.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  JUNE 19

  Alexana was released from Jerusalem’s Hadassah Hospital three days later after being treated for dehydration, hypothermia, and a broken clavicle. As she walked toward him, Ridge grinned until his cheeks hurt.

  “How come you look like a kid who’s just run across an abandoned ice-cream truck?” Alexana asked with a smile, reaching up to kiss him lightly.

  He gathered her into his arms, mindful of her shoulder, and whispered in her ear. “Because you’re better than any ol’ ice cream truck. You’re the Dreyers of women. The Häagen-Dazs of the female gender.”

  Alexana laughed and shook her head. “Reaching pretty hard for those analogies, aren’t you, my love?”

  He smiled back into her eyes. “Perhaps. Are you a free woman now?”

  “For the next twenty-four hours at least. It looks like it will be a while until we get the okay to go back and do the paperwork on our dig.”

  Ridge nodded, sobering at the mention of their harrowing night at the Haram. “Come on,” he said, motioning toward his rental car. “I want to go for a drive. I need to see the ocean, take a breather from Jerusalem life.”

  Alexana looked at him with a question in her eyes. “What about work?”

  “What about it? You’re more important.” He took her hand and studied her intently. “Alexana, you’re the most important person in my life. You taught me what love was all about. Work’s important. But as I’ve said before, I’d leave the best job in the world if keeping it meant I couldn’t be with you.”

  Alexana studied him, thinking. “Let’s go for that ride.”

  Two hours later they reached a resort town on the coast. Leaving their things in the car, they hurried to catch the last rays of sunset on the beach. Alexana walked behind Ridge, carefully placing her feet inside his imprints in the sand. She could feel the contours of his toes, heels, and soles in the cold, wet grains. The sensation was oddly intimate. “Ridge,” she said.

  He stopped and turned, waiting for her to go on.

  “I’m so glad you chose me, Ridge.” She looked up at him in wonder. “I’m so glad you asked me to marry you.”

  “You are?”

  His voice was hopeful, without ego. To hear it coming from a man like Ridge brought tears to her eyes. “I did a lot of thinking in the hospital,” she continued. “About what I want for us. And I was wondering if maybe you and I should synthesize careers somehow. You know, you document archaeological digs or I become a full-time news resource.”

  Ridge shook his head, not understanding her lead. “But why?”

  “Well, Mr. McIntyre, at one point you asked me to marry you,” she said as if it were obvious.

  “And you asked me back,” he said with a smile, waiting for her to go on.

  “I’m not going to stay at home while you risk life and limb alone on some assignment in a war zone, or let us work ourselves to pieces while seeing each other only twice a month at some rendezvous point like Paris or Nairobi. As romantic as that might seem at first, it’s not what I want for my family.”

  “Okay.” He kept his eyes on hers, listening carefully.

  “I do want a family, Ridge. A house. A home. And a husband who will live long enough to see our children grow up. I want to work for God’s glory, not my own. My time at the Haram showed me that no matter what I do, no matter what I discover or what I accomplish, it can be destroyed in seconds. But God—our God, Ridge—he’s eternal. He saved me. I know he was there.”

  He nodded, understanding at last. “But you’re the one who almost got yourself killed three days ago. I’m not the one who was kidnapped by the head of Hamas or left for dead at the bottom of the Temple Mount.”

  Alexana looked down at her bare feet, then back at up at him. She pulled off her glasses.

  “Uh-oh,” he said with a laugh. “I’m in for it now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You always pull the glasses off when you want to drive home a point.”

  Alexana gave him a tiny half smile. “Yes, well listen to this one, Ridge. I admit that I made a mistake at the Haram. I put my work ahead of my life. I risked not only my life, but the lives of my crew. I thank God every day that I am not responsible for getting any of my people killed. Being trapped in the stables made me think. Really think. I even felt like I saw a vision, a tiny g
limpse of God. And it overwhelmed me.

  “My work is important. Even though the inscription we found under the Haram is gone now, we still have it on film. And this find will go down as one of the greatest in history. But was it worth risking my future with you? What we have together? No. For me, nothing is that important. I’ve come to that decision, Ridge. Have you?”

  He looked back out to sea, his expression unreadable. “I told you I’d leave if I had to, but it’s tough. I have to choose: you or my job.”

  Alexana fought the hurt that threatened to creep into her voice. “Not your job, Ridge. Your current position. And I’m not forcing you to do anything. This is up to you. I love you, no matter what you decide. I’m simply asking you to consider our future.”

  “I suppose life with you will be full of tough decisions,” he said slowly, carefully.

  Alexana managed a small smile. “Does that mean you’ll consider it?”

  He looked directly into her eyes and spoke with confidence. “Alexana Roarke, I love you. All the way. Forever. You’re right. I don’t want you to be in harm’s way. It’s not fair to ask you to feel anything different.”

  Alexana smiled broadly and threw her good arm around Ridge’s waist. Bringing his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her tightly against him. They looked out to sea together, watching for a long while as the sky faded to a deep amethyst and a few stars faintly twinkled.

  “We’ll work it out somehow,” Alexana said finally.

  “Yes, we will,” Ridge agreed, pulling her in front of him and kissing her forehead. “I know it.” He looked into her eyes and reached for her hand, placing it over his heart. She felt the rhythm of his strong pulse and smiled up into his eyes. “I know it here,” he whispered earnestly.

  “You believe,” she said through her tears. “In us. In God. In our future.”

  “I do,” he said, his voice returning with a laugh. “How ‘bout a jaunt through the stars, Wendy?” he quipped, picking her up in his arms.

  “Anytime, Peter Pan,” she said, her smile broadening. “Anytime.”