The Shadow of Death (Psalm 23 Mysteries Book 9) (24 page)

“I understand your logic, but what else could it be?” he asked.

“This entire site is sacred. Now, I could see the Israelis blowing up the mosque, but I still have a problem seeing the Arabs going along with that. If this was just one group of people we could make sense of it, but these are groups who have very opposite views who can both agree on the destruction of one thing that will result in both the rebuilding of the Temple and all out war between Israel and her neighbors.”

“I think I know where you’re heading with this,” he said.

She nodded. “I don’t think they ever meant to blow up this building. I think they’re going to blow up the Dome of the Chain.”

“Martin!” Jeremiah shouted, running for the entrance. Cindy scrambled to keep up with him.

Moments later the other man was beside them. “What?”

“Cindy thinks this isn’t their target. She thinks they’re going to blow up the Dome of the Chain instead.”

“What? But why?”

“We’ll explain later,” Jeremiah said.

They raced outside and across the ground toward the much smaller structure. As they neared it Jeremiah slowed. Martin turned on his flashlight, sweeping it over the building which had no exterior wall.

“The structure is named for a legend regarding King Solomon. According to Muslim tradition it’s also the place where Judgment Day will occur and the sinful shall be parted from the righteous.”

Mark stepped inside, lifting his flashlight up into the dome. Suddenly he froze.

Jeremiah walked forward and Cindy grabbed his hand tight and walked with him. There, partway up the one arch, was something that had to be a bomb.

She had been right. Mark turned to look at her with a surprised expression on his face.

“I told you that you needed me,” she said.

“Jackson, Ellis, to me!” he shouted.

Jeremiah pulled her away from it as two of Martin’s men came running up.

“We have to get that disarmed now!” Martin snapped as he painted the bomb with his flashlight. “Get on it, I’ll check to see if there are any more on the structure. Move, move, move!”

Jeremiah pulled Cindy further away. Moments later more of his men were running from the larger dome to join him at the smaller one.

“Start looking for secondary devices,” she heard Martin barking.

“We found it,” she said. “Do you think they can disarm it?”

“Hopefully,” Jeremiah said, pulling her farther back from the dome and the men scrambling around it. “But right now we’ve got a bigger problem.”

“What’s that?” Cindy asked, turning to look at him.

“They’re here,” he whispered.

20

Men were pouring out of the mosque, guns and knives held high.

Jeremiah shouted at the top of his lungs to get the attention of the C.I.A. agents and hopefully Solomon’s men outside the wall. He grabbed the gun from his waistband, wishing he’d picked up some more ammunition, and dropped the first four men who reached him.

“Run for the Rock!” Jeremiah shouted to Cindy.

She turned and sprinted for the large dome. He felt a bullet whiz past his head as he dropped to the ground to grab a gun off one of the dead men. He managed to grab a knife as well.

He scrambled to his feet, keeping low and weaving to make a difficult target, especially in the dark. He heard a scream and he turned to see a woman grabbing at Cindy. Cindy kicked her in the knee and spun out of her grasp.

Jeremiah ran over. The woman who’d grabbed Cindy had flaming red hair. She was also holding the torn remnants of Cindy’s dress. Jeremiah dropped her with a single shot and chased after Cindy into the Dome of the Rock.

Cindy was standing under the dome in her slip. All the agents who had been inside were now outside, most of them closer to the other dome. Some of them were fighting, others were trying to disarm the bomb. They couldn’t do that if they were dead.

“Hide,” Jeremiah hissed before he headed back outside. He had to buy those agents as much time as he could.

He began firing, dropping more of the enemy. There were so many more of them than he had anticipated. Out of the corner of his eye he saw at least four of the American agents go down.

He shot another man who wasn’t carrying a gun, but instead had something tucked under his arm. As he tumbled to the ground it fell, too. Jeremiah’s stomach sank when he saw that it was a black box. Another bomb.

He sprinted forward and snatched it up. It hadn’t been armed yet. One of the men on the field of battle turned and saw him with the bomb. “Get him!” he screamed to his compatriots, pointing at Jeremiah.

Suddenly a wave of attackers was coming his way. An American agent got to him first. “We disarmed it!” he shouted.

“Great,” Jeremiah growled. “Get this one out of here.”

He handed it off to the other man who just kept running. Jeremiah pantomimed still holding the box to give the other man time to get away with it. It worked. The wave of men kept coming toward him.

Jeremiah retreated into the building. Cindy was partway down the series of marble steps that led into the Well of Souls.

“They’re coming!” he shouted to her.

He dropped to the floor and a hail of bullets went over his head. He fired off three rapid rounds and then he was out from the gun he’d taken off the dead man. He managed to roll behind one of the pillars. He had felled two of his enemies. That left six more. They had guns. He just had a knife.

Then it happened, the clicking of empty magazines. With a swift prayer he leaped from his hiding place and waded into his attackers, slashing with the knife. He caught one man across the throat and he fell in a spray of blood. Jeremiah turned and plunged the blade into another one’s chest, yanking it out. He turned and felt fire trace its way across his ribs.

He spun to find a man facing him with a knife as his comrades were frantically trying to reload. With three quick strikes the man was dead and his knife belonged to Jeremiah.

Then a gun came up and he threw himself behind another pillar. They advanced and he managed to make it to the next pillar, drawing them farther into the structure. Then came the clicking as they were again out of bullets. He started to step out from behind the pillar but a shot rang out and just grazed his shoulder. They were getting smart. They had him pinned and they weren’t all changing their clips at once.

Outside the sound of firing had died down. Jeremiah wondered how many were left on either side.

Cindy was practically eye level to the ground. None of Jeremiah’s attackers had seen her crouched on the stairs. Suddenly he leaped out from behind a pillar and threw a knife which lodged in one man’s chest. He threw the second knife and another man fell. The last man standing was still trying to reload his gun. He tossed it to the side and grabbed for one of the knives. Jeremiah pulled the other one out of the body it was lodged in. The two men fought, slipping over the ground and each nearly falling half a dozen times. Cindy wanted to scream, but she dared not. All had gone quiet outside. She wondered if everyone was dead.

The other man got in two good swings, tearing Jeremiah’s shirt and drawing blood. She glanced around, looking for a gun she could get to. There was nothing near her. She’d have to run past them to try to get one and she couldn’t risk distracting Jeremiah.

The other man jumped forward and swung. Jeremiah stepped, turned into him and snatched the knife out of his hand before plunging both knives into the man’s chest and then pulling them out as he fell.

Then all was silent. Slowly Cindy crept up the stairs until she was crouched on the floor of the building.

He turned to look at her and his gaze burned right through her. He was like some terrible, avenging angel.

Angel of Death.

She understood now why they called him that. She looked around. They were surrounded by bodies. Blood was splattered everywhere. She turned back to Jeremiah and looked at the knives he clenched in each fist.

“This is who I am,” he said fiercely. He raised the knives in the air and then let them fall to the ground on either side of him.

“I know,” she sobbed. She rose to her feet and walked slowly toward him. “I’ve always known. Ever since that first week. You killed that man, that monster, to save me. You did it without thinking, without hesitating. You were so fast. No one else saw, but I did. And I knew exactly what you were.”

She stopped mere inches from him. She put her hand on his blood-streaked chest, over his heart. “I’ve always known who you were in here.”

He stared down at her, eyes burning through her. She reached up and grabbed his face in her hands and pulled it down. Her heart was pounding as she kissed his lips. It was just a peck, just a moment, but she had to do it before she lost her nerve. She let go of him and stepped back.

He stared into her eyes. “This is who I am, you understand? I tried to hide it. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” she said.

He bent down, keeping his eyes locked on hers. His were searching, questioning. She smiled, and a moment later he kissed her. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitating. She kissed him back.

It was as though a dam broke inside him and he crushed her to him, kissing her harder, deeper. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself over to what felt like a lifetime of longing.

He sank to his knees and she went with him. He kept holding her and he buried his face in her shoulder. “Don’t leave me,” he sobbed.

“Never,” she breathed, kissing the crown of his head and running her hands through his hair.

He looked up at her, his face contorted in anguish. “You know everything,” he said.

“I do.”

“I never let myself kiss you, all the times I wanted to, because you didn’t know everything.”

“Now I know.”

“And you’re not running away?”

“No.”

“Deep down this is who I am, not Jeremiah, but this.”

“I don’t care what name you use or what you do.” She hesitated, about to admit something to him that she hadn’t dreamed she would. “I love you because of who you are, not despite it.”

He kissed her again, breathing words against her lips that she couldn’t understand. Even though he was speaking in Hebrew her heart knew what he was saying. He pulled away and looked in her eyes. He put his hands behind her head, holding it, cradling it.

“I’ve given you every chance to leave me,” he whispered.

“I know. I won’t leave you.”

“Then God have mercy on you because I can’t hold myself back anymore.”

Suddenly he was kissing her again, harder, faster until she couldn’t catch her breath. “I love you,” he said between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. “I am yours - mind, heart, and body. Whatever you want from me I give it to you.”

She shuddered, her very soul longing for him. “I want you...” she whispered, straining to get the words out.

“I am yours,” he said, his voice shaking. He pulled her tighter against him and her back arched as she responded to him.

“I want you to stop lying about being my husband,” she managed to say.

He pulled back and stared at her with a stricken look even as his hands stroked her cheeks. He nodded slowly. “Why?” he whispered and she could hear pain in his voice. He didn’t understand her.

“Because I want you to be my husband, and I want to be your wife. And then,” she said, letting her hands drift slowly across his stomach, “I’ll take everything I want.”

“We both will,” he said, voice ragged.

They continued to stare at each other for a moment and then he stood, pulling her up with him. Her legs felt a little shaky and as if sensing that, he put his arm around her and held her up.

“Time to go back home,” he said. They started walking and her legs began to feel a bit stronger. “I can’t lie to you. It’s not going to be easy to transition back into that life after everything that’s happened here.”

“Nothing’s ever easy for us. Why should this be any different?”

They made it outside just as Solomon ran up to him. “The bombs are defused and away from here. We’ve got twenty dead terrorists out here.”

“There’s eight inside,” Jeremiah said.

Solomon’s eyes
nearly bulged out of his head. “I told you, we needed one of them alive for questioning.”

Jeremiah just stared at him for a long moment and then shook his head. “It’s been a while, so I guess maybe you’ve forgotten. I don’t leave survivors.”

21

Cindy couldn’t believe that they were finally on a plane headed home. She didn’t actually breathe easy until the plane had taken off and was in the air. Then she allowed herself to relax in her seat.

Martin had survived the Battle of Temple Mount as they had all started to call it, but he had lost five of his men in the fighting. All twenty-eight of the terrorists who had been present that morning had been killed, much to Solomon’s chagrin. Among them were six current and former Mossad agents, ten Arabs, and a dozen Russians. Martin had sworn that the one was KGB although he couldn’t prove that the red-haired woman still worked for that agency.