Davidson looked to the surrounding area. “There are a number of fables involving King Solomon, any of which—”
Lopez held up a hand. “Hold on. We barely tolerate it when Rebecca does it, and she is way crazy better looking than you.”
“Fine,” Davidson replied. “Then how about I have a plan?”
“Like the rest have gone so well,” Lopez said. Then when Davidson didn’t continue, he finished. “No, I was serious. Love your plans. Let’s do it.”
Davidson pulled out his sat phone and replaced the battery. Bunny and her crew might come in handy. He dialed the number, but it went to voice mail. Really? An emergency field line going to voice mail? He couldn’t worry much about it, though. He had an insanely flawed plan to execute.
* * *
Bunny dove for the sat phone, but the line was dead by the time she answered it. She tried to dial back as the entire room went dark. No lights. No sounds. No sat phone uplink.
“The last wall. It’s been breached,” Prenner whispered into the dark.
No, this couldn’t be happening. Not with three of the men outside the temple and Rebecca and the rest missing.
Then the lights came back on.
“Oh, please,” Stark said as he rebooted the system.
“I stopped them at the sixth wall,” his mother continued, “while I was making your toast.”
“Then why?” Emily said, indicating to all the equipment.
Stark shrugged. “Because we had to make someone believe we were knocked back on our heels so they would get bold and go for the kill shot.”
“Your spaghetti code really was a delight, dear,” his mother offered. “A true Gordian’s knot.”
“Wait,” Bunny announced, her brain catching up with the current events. It turned out she was way better at keeping track of ancient ones. “All these alarms and outages were faked?”
Stark’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Those hackers weren’t nearly as smarty-pants as they thought they were.” He brought up a line of code, which made no sense to Bunny. “Off of this little gem, Mom backtracked them to the Pentagon.”
Emily pulled a gun out of Bunny didn’t want to know where and trained it on Prenner.
“What?” Prenner said, backing away, going for his own sidearm.
“Don’t,” Emily warned. “Not until we know more. Stark?”
“Once we identified the hack was coming from the E-ring, we did a little digging into Prenner’s files…”
A page came up on the big screen. Bunny skimmed it, then found a passage that begged to be read aloud. “In my opinion, Brandt’s command has been riddled with unjustified off-the-book missions, questionable judgment, and near-negligent homicide risks.”
“That is a sealed document,” Prenner growled.
“Yeah, right. From me?” Stark said. Then his mother cleared her throat. “And my mom?” The tech held up a hand. “Plus, it turns out that Prenner didn’t just happen to stumble upon this mission.”
“Please,” Prenner said, his tone losing its dangerous edge, “don’t.”
“Sorry, dude, the time for don’t ask, don’t tell is way over.” Stark brought up a picture of Brandt’s deceased point man, Svengurd. Bunny barely recognized him. She’d known him for about twelve and a half minutes. His height and stark-blond hair were kind of memorable, though. The photo morphed into a candid photo of Svengurd and Prenner in an embrace. “Prenner here was Svengurd’s boyfriend.”
Bunny turned on the lieutenant. “I knew it.” When everyone looked to her, she clarified. “About him batting for the other team—I knew that part.”
“Yes, Svengurd and I were engaged,” Prenner admitted. “And yes, I did and still do blame Brandt for his death, but I would never betray my country or put Brandt’s men at risk—certainly not a little girl.”
Prenner searched the eyes of everyone in the room but came up with no takers. Not Bunny, either.
“Get his gun,” Emily ordered.
Bunny approached Prenner as he put his arms out to the side. “I’d say I’m sorry,” she said, “but you know, I’m not.”
Prenner leaned in. “You think I’m a tight ass.” She didn’t answer that clearly rhetorical question. “So think about it. Would I break the rules like this?”
She grabbed his gun and backed away. “I’ve given up wondering why sick creeps like you do anything.”
Handing the gun to Emily, Bunny accepted a ball of wire.
“Tie him up,” the CIA operative instructed.
As Bunny obeyed, Stark clapped his hands together. “All right, now that we don’t have to worry about any interruptions…”
He called up the Tabernacle, now on fire. The three men had been busy, though. Strangely, not putting out the fire, but carving letters into the hillside.
GPR.
Bunny racked her brain for some ancient meaning to those letters. “It isn’t Ancient Greek or Mesopotamian.”
Stark’s mother chuckled. “No. It is ground-penetrating radar.”
“Yes,” Stark answered. “I think we’ve got a satellite nearby equipped to identify underground bunkers.”
“So they must think Rebecca and the others are alive.”
Emily nodded. “Alive, but trapped underground.”
As Stark retasked the satellite, Bunny was going to concentrate on the alive part.
* * *
Brandt kept an eye on their tail as they approached yet another set of doors. How many had they passed through by now? He simply deferred to Rebecca each time. They had tried to consult Vakasa, but she was too busy either rebraiding her hair or playing with her necklace. For a supposed Messiah, she wasn’t exactly the type to take the lead.
“Um…” Rebecca said, indicating to the doors. Brandt wasn’t sure why until he realized that neither of them had any symbols. They were simple stone doors. This couldn’t be good.
“What do you think it means?”
Rebecca wouldn’t meet his eye. Instead, she looked down to who was playing a phantom game of hopscotch. The kid never stopped surprising him.
Well, they had to pick one of the passages. Brandt went over and pushed open the door on the left. Its floor sloped upward.
“That could lead to the surface,” he said, trying to pack as much hopeful optimism as he could into the statement.
“Or to a dead end,” Rebecca countered.
The other door showed a passage that went down. Steeply.
Brandt didn’t even bother to argue.
They were going down.
As they passed through the door, the ground jolted to the right, then the left, then undulated underfoot. His and Rebecca’s eyes met. At least they seemed to have chosen correctly.
The passage was steep and had become uneven. What had once been gilded surfaces now descended into hand-chiseled stone walls. Rocks cluttered underfoot, making the going slow.
Vakasa tripped, so Rebecca picked her up as they ventured deeper and deeper under the temple. A stone tumbled down from above. Brandt swung around, flashing his light, trying to see if they were being followed. Did an errant footstep dislodge the rock or was it simply the nearly nonstop trembling of the earth?
He waited, holding his breath. No one emerged. No shots were fired. No grenades tossed.
Brandt did pick up the pace, though. If the Disciples didn’t get to them, these tunnels were apt to collapse if shaken much more. Finally, they arrived at a door. A single door with only a lotus blossom etched into its surface.
Rebecca moved out of the way so he could enter first. Even if they were entering the Holy of Holies, they still needed protocol. This door was heavier than the rest. He had to put his arm into it. Then it budged, opening into a large chamber.
Shining his light, they were nearly blinded by the reflection.
Brandt thought he’d been impressed back at the temple. He had been wrong.
CHAPTER 29
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10:45 p.m. (IST)
Rebecca spun in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Resplendent didn’t even come close to this most Holy of Holies. Forget gold. Solomon had brought out the big guns here. The walls were lined with every precious gem you could think of. Gold filigree wove around the dazzling jewels.
And the statues? The entire chamber was filled with rows upon rows of them. Every ancient god was represented. Anubus, their old friend Moloch, Diana, and so many more. Each faced east. Each knelt down on one knee. Each faced a carving that seemed fashioned out of one enormous piece of onyx. They all bowed before the Black Madonna.
Only, she didn’t seem a Madonna at all. The statue before them appeared to be just a beautiful African woman with a babe in her arms. Not just any babe, though, but one with rows of braids just like Vakasa.
“Don’t let her—” Brandt yelled.
However, it was too late, as Vakasa had rushed forward and hugged one leg of the statue. It was the only thing her tiny arms could encircle.
“Momma.”
Rebecca braced for whatever happened next. The roof to split open. The floor to cave in. Anything. Seconds ticked by, nothing happened. If anything, the earth beneath their feet seemed to quiet. The constant quaking died down to silence.
“Maybe it’s because she is home,” Rebecca suggested.
“Or she isn’t the Messiah, after all,” Brandt countered, although his features didn’t seem as hardened as they usually did. If anything, he seemed simply relieved. As did Rebecca. If Vakasa really wasn’t the Messiah, then her chances of having a normal life exponentially increased.
“Of more practical concern,” Brandt stated, “I don’t see another exit.”
Unfortunately, neither did Rebecca.
* * *
As the Tabernacle burned to the ground, Levont held up the C4 block. “Well?”
Davidson paced it off again. But without blueprints for the temple, how could he know for sure? He turned around and counted his steps again, trying to get a more thorough understanding of the underground temple.
“Things have quieted down,” Lopez remarked. “We could just wait.”
Davidson glanced over his shoulder with a look that, even with his damaged lips, should have said, Really?
“If we place it wrong…” Levont didn’t seem to want to finish the statement. Who did? They could only begin to imagine how unstable the ground beneath them was. An inaccurately placed charge could bring the whole hillside down on Brandt’s head.
They had to gamble, though. They had to think proactively. Maybe if the Disciples weren’t down there with them, they could wait. But with that she-cat down there, along with the priest? They had to make a move.
Davidson indicated to the easternmost slope. “At the least, let’s set the charges so we are ready.”
“For what?” Lopez asked.
“Who the hell knows?”
* * *
“They are on the wrong side,” Stark said, pointing to the screen. “They are going to blow the wrong spot.”
Bunny tried the sat phone again. Nothing. She checked the ground-penetrating radar readout. The largest, most elaborate chamber was due west of them. Worse, if they took out that corner of the temple…Bunny was no architect, but a house of cards was more stable.
“Think,” she said aloud as if everyone in the room, with the exception of Prenner, wasn’t already. “We’ve got to get them a signal.”
“Out in the middle of nowhere,” Stark complained, cracking his knuckles. The nearly forty-eight hours straight hacking was beginning to take its toll on the young man.
“Hold on,” Bunny said, her mind racing. “What if we dumped the satellite? I mean, dropped that puppy out of the sky.”
Stark’s brow creased with confusion. “I mean, sure we could, but why…?”
His mother, though, smiled. “I like the way this girl thinks. You need to find a girl like her.”
As Stark blushed a thousand shades of crimson, Bunny asked, “The satellite is in ultra-low orbit, right?” Stark nodded. “So it is right over their heads, and if we force it into the atmosphere…”
Clearly, Stark began to get it. “It would light up even that ash-filled sky.”
“They will have to know something was up.”
Stark nodded. “I’m on it.”
“No,” a voice said from behind them. “I don’t think you are.”
The CIA operative still pointed one gun at Prenner but the other at Stark. “God will decide what happens.”
“Emily?”
“I am not thinking of just our lives,” the woman said. “I am thinking of the global clu-taster-fuck that will happen if that child emerges from the temple.” Emily nodded to Bunny. “You of all should understand. You know of her potential, yet you said nothing, why?”
Bunny shook her head. “All’s I did was keep my mouth shut. I didn’t actively endanger my friends. A little girl, Emily. Doesn’t that cross around your neck mean anything to you?”
“It means everything,” she said, fingering the crucifix. “Which is why we are going to simply watch and see what happens.”
How Bunny wanted to just strike out and pimp-slap the CIA operative, but Prenner gave the slightest shake to his head.
Didn’t the lieutenant know? Patience was not Bunny’s virtue.
* * *
Brandt cocked his head. “Did you hear that?” he asked Rebecca as she and Vakasa made their way around the statue.
“Did you feel that?” Rebecca countered as she rejoined him.
She was right. A distant rumbling vibrated through his boots. It felt like thunder that began on the horizon, then powered toward you. That was not the immediate concern, though. The immediate concern was the door to the chamber opening and a grenade sailing through the air.
That was the concern.
“Get down!” Brandt shouted, knowing that it probably wouldn’t make a difference. When the thing landed, it just spewed smoke, though. The Disciples must have been trying to keep the structural damage to a minimum. Good for them.
“Get Vakasa behind the statue,” Brandt whispered, urging Rebecca away from the center of the room. Pulling up his shirt to protect his lungs, Brandt slunk forward, keeping a statue of Anubis between him and the door.
Through the chamber’s haze, Brandt saw the flash of a muzzle as a gunman braved the smoke. He held his fire, though. The Disciples had too many men with them. Brandt had to wait to make his stand count. More than one must have made their way through the series of doors. Sure enough, another stepped into the chamber.
Behind him was the girl, Monnie, Brandt thought her name was. She appeared unarmed. Before the group got much farther, Brandt braced his bad shoulder against Anubis and fired, hitting the first gunman in the gut. He winged the second gunman. Monnie darted deeper into the temple as another figure entered. Brandt had the bead on him but pulled up short.
A priest. Why did it have to be a priest?
* * *
The chamber shook as smoke churned. Gunfire pinged off a statue. Rebecca held Vakasa tight to her. The air cleared as a form approached. It was too short to be Brandt. Should she call out for him, or would that only draw the danger closer?
Instead of the monstrous Frellan, a lithe, young woman emerged. With her smooth skin and emerald eyes, she should have seemed nonthreatening. That was not the case.
“You know who I am?” the woman asked.
Rebecca had no clue, except for the fact that religious megalomaniacs usually gave themselves away. They wanted you to know who they were. Rebecca could piece together the rest. A female Disciple. The only one to find the Holy of Holies. Rebecca could venture a pretty damned good guess.
“The Master?”
The woman’s lips spread into a smile. “So you know that you must give the child over to me.”
Rebecca knew no such thing. However, she did note that the Master had a knife and Rebecca
was weaponless. Underfoot, the floor gave out as steam rose from the earth. Scrambling back, Rebecca avoided falling into a huge crack in the ground. Would it be enough to keep the Master back?
Unfortunately, the Master had that wild look in her eye. The one that religious zealots got just before they did something really crazy.
“God shall guide me,” the woman said, rushing toward the gap, easily clearing it.
Perfect time for him to take sides, Rebecca thought.
The woman slashed with a knife, narrowly missing her arm. Rebecca pushed Vakasa out of the way. The Master cut upward. Rebecca barely danced out of the way in time. She’d gotten lucky.
But how many more of those could she evade?
* * *
Brandt finally took down the guy he’d winged, but the priest was in the wind. Or more accurately, in the smoke. A scream rang through the chamber. Turning, Brandt was too worried about Rebecca and ran smack into the rod that the priest wielded. Reeling backward, blood coursing down his forehead, Brandt brought up his gun.
Again, that damned black robe and white collar made him hesitate just a split second too long as the staff arced up again, coming down on Brandt’s shoulder. That was completely unnecessary.
Brandt brought his gun around to bear, but the damned priest used the butt of the stick to hammer his obliques.
As he doubled over, the priest smiled. “I didn’t think that wound had completely healed.”
Oh, game on.
Brandt didn’t bother rising from his position, he just ran at the guy like a linebacker. The priest apparently didn’t play many sports in seminary school. He tried to dart to the left, but Brandt was all over that. Tackling the priest around the waist, Brandt slammed the man into a statue of Moloch.
He might not be able to shoot a man of the cloth. But knock the wind out of him? That Brandt could do.
* * *
Rebecca dodged to the side. God love Brandt. He’d tried to teach her hand-to-hand combat. Every time they practiced, though, they usually ended up in bed. It was not a very productive teaching environment. As the knife swept sideways, nearly slicing her open, Rebecca really, really, really wished she’d paid more attention.
Watch the attacker’s shoulder, she could hear Brandt demand.
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