The Solomon Key (47 page)

“You understand that I can’t sit back and do nothing, let them just walk in here and carry you and your children away.”

“I appreciate your heartfelt concern, but you need to look after your wife. I’m not sure that either one of you is ready for death quite yet.”

His gaze fell back to Jennifer, his finger tracing her cheek bone. “I have to make amends, to give back some of what I’ve taken.”

Ralston shook his head. “Wrong. You can’t earn spiritual redemption, because despite what the New Agers tell you, there’s nothing good in your fallen state. All of your works to the contrary are just an insult to the work He’s already completed for you. It’s as if you’re telling Him that He sent His son to die in vain, because you have a better idea of how to save yourself. You can’t undo what you’ve done, you can only be forgiven of it.”

He was silent for a spell. “I can’t leave you here. I won’t.”

But before Daniel could respond, someone was banging on the door. As he went to answer it, Scott woke Jennifer.

“Take your clothes and get dressed.”

Getting up, and noting the concern in his eyes, she quickly reached out of the blanket, grabbing her damp clothes, and retreated into the other room.

Ralston opened the door to reveal the three Mossad agents standing in the rain. It hadn’t been three hours yet.

“Is Cavanaugh in there with you?” one of them asked.

Ralston looked confused. “Who?”

Scott walked past him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He shut the door behind him and stepped into the rain again. “What is it?” he asked them. “I’m getting wet.”

They had their weapons with them. “Malachi called us.”

Uh oh.

43

T
hey took a step closer, the agent on Scott’s far right moving a hand toward a holstered weapon. Scott quickly went through the blank list of his options, not seeing how this could end well for anyone. Of course, he could just
give
them the ring. They took another step, and he held his breath.

But a distinct sound suddenly cut through the rain, traveling over the treetops — the
whoop-whoop-whoop
of rotors beating the air.

The three Israelis turned and looked back over their shoulders, toward the incoming helicopter, and Scott could tell by their reaction to it that something was wrong. This wasn’t the Mossad helicopter returning for them.

Scott bolted back to Ralston’s place and burst through the doors. “They’re coming!”

Ralston jumped to his feet and ran to the door.

Scott turned back to the agents, but they were already gone, abandoning their orders to secure the ring in favor of dealing with a more immediate and potent threat — the tiny dots showing up across the gray horizon. Grabbing Jennifer’s hand, he pulled her past Ralston and out into the rain, toward the tent.

“What’s happening?” she hollered, trying to keep up with him.

“I have to get you out of here!”

“What?” she shouted in protest. The implication wasn’t over her head.

Halfway to the tent, however, the helicopters began drifting east. They weren’t coming for them yet after all. Scott relaxed a little, figuring the choppers were en route to the facility, until they arrived at the tent and found nothing there. The agents were gone, the area around the tent eerily still, branches swaying slowly in the wind, rain smacking against the tent... something felt wrong.

And then there was an enormous explosion, and fire shot up above the tree line and into the sky some two hundred yards away. Scott pushed Jennifer down below an empty table while whipping out his pistol.

There was another explosion, this one a hundred yards south of the first, and Scott realized that Malachi must’ve set up a defensive
perimeter around the commune. A third explosion rocked the afternoon, and this time some of the Christians came out into the rain to see what was happening. The lingering smoke hanging above the trees had them congregating in close circles of curiosity.

And then a closer, fourth explosion went off behind them, sending a wave of uneasiness through the crowd.

Still kneeling beside Jennifer under the tent, Scott was waiting for some kind of clue as to whether or not the forces surrounding them had all been eliminated by the claymores. And then machine gun fire ricocheting through the trees southeast of his position answered his question. He looked at Jennifer, saw her lips forming a series of inaudible prayers.

“They are coming from the east and from the north!” a voice called out to him.

Looking up, he saw the three Israelis sprint past the tent, coming from the direction the shots had originated. One of them ran straight through the commune while the two others broke off to the right, heading east.

Seconds later, more gunfire erupted, and the people were suddenly trying to get back indoors.

Scott could tell from the shooting that the Israeli agents were far outnumbered. He didn’t know what to do. The Mossad needed his help, the community needed his help, and Jennifer needed his help.

“Listen,” he took her face in his hands, and tears appeared in her eyes, the sudden reality of their situation striking home. “I want you to run south. Just keep running.”

She shook her head, the tears falling. “I can’t.”

“You can!”

“I can’t!”

“Jen, please. I need to help them now. I’ll catch up with you.”

Her tears turned to sobs, and she threw herself around his neck. “I won’t leave you,” she cried.

His eyes began to tear up too. There was no doubt that this was it for them, and he kissed her like it. Wiping her tears away, he whispered, “Go.”

“But I don’t want to live without you,” she stammered.

“I’ll catch up, I promise.”

And
then
there came another sound seeping into the symphony of destruction.

A helicopter.

It was coming in from the south. The Blackhawk.
Oh God, please.
Scott grabbed her shoulders. “See that helicopter?” He pointed.

It was hard to see through the clouds, but she nodded.

“It’s going to land nearby. Make sure you get on it, okay? Nothing else matters. You get on that helicopter and keep your head down.”

“What about you?”

“Someone needs to cover your escape.” He smiled. “Would you let me do that? For all the agony I’ve put you through over the years?”

“I’ve already forgiven you for that.”

He pulled her close, put his lips against her cheek. “Get on the helicopter, Jen. I’ll find you.” Then he helped her out from under the table.

“Josh,” she started.

Hearing her say his real name superimposed years of old memories on top of the recent ones, and the image it created didn’t seem to make sense. “Yeah?”

Her lip began to quiver, tears dropping down her face. “In case I never see you again…”

“You will!
Go
!”

The helicopter was getting closer, but so was the gunfire.

The two Mossad agents appeared backpedaling out of the woods, SAWs firing relentlessly from their shoulders. Then, turning toward the tent, they called out, “It’s touching down in the clearing!”

Scott led Jennifer down after them. “Take her with you!” he shouted at their backs.

They turned and stopped, their weapons falling to their sides as they motioned urgently for them to catch up. “Where is the ring?” one of them yelled.

“I don’t have it!” Not waiting for a response or an argument, he said, “Take her with you, and I’ll cover you!” He threw down the pistol and held out his hands to receive the huge SAW from one of the Israelis. Then they all sprinted after the clearing, the Blackhawk almost over them now.

Turning to cover their backs, Scott saw the third Mossad agent running in hot pursuit of his comrades, a few camouflaged soldiers chasing him. Scott moved to his left in order to clear the Israeli from his line of fire and pulled the SAW’s trigger. The machine gun rocked back and forth in his arms, empty shells sizzling in the rain, putting down the agent’s closest pursuers. But Scott could see more of them through the surrounding trees. He sprayed some cover fire at them, hoping to keep them pinned there. “Go! Go! Go!” Scott screamed at the Mossad agent as he ran past him and continued on toward the landing Blackhawk.

Scott stole a glance at them boarding the helicopter once it touched down, saw them physically drag Jennifer onto it. His heart broke with despair at the site.

Fire was now being directed at him from the woods, so he had to move. He tried not to think of his screaming wife as the Blackhawk rose up into the sky, and he ran for cover.

****

Jennifer screamed in protest as one of the Israelis struggled to hold her head down, the form of her husband becoming smaller below them, bullets clinking around the inside of the helicopter. The pilot swayed and dipped the aircraft while the two other agents returned fire. That’s when she got a glimpse of the soldiers circling around Joshua’s position.

When the helicopter banked again, she lost sight of her husband. She struggled against the agent’s grasp, trying either to get a better view or join her lover in death. She wasn’t sure which, just that the helpless anguish was too much to bear. “
Josh
!” she screamed hysterically, another agent helping to hold her down. And then the world fell away, and they were off.

****

Scott went down hard, struck in the shoulder and side. As he rolled onto his back, he got a glimpse of the Blackhawk disappearing over the horizon, his wife, the books, and the ring of Solomon along with it. He clenched his teeth and tried to move, but he could tell the soldiers were closing in on him already.

So this is it.
Reaching out, he grabbed the SAW and pulled it back to his side. He tilted the barrel up and squeezed the trigger just as two soldiers burst through the woods on top of him, their feet flying out from beneath them. He dropped his head back and stared up through the rain drops falling on his face, looked into the clouds and wondered what, if anything, was beyond them. Was it too late, or was Ralston right about only needing forgiveness? Was such a thing really an option for the likes of him? Even with the blood of all those civilians on his hands?

Someone else came pounding out of the woods, interrupting his thoughts. He tried to raise the machine gun again, but there was no strength left in his arm, the recoil from the last burst having only mangled more muscle and flesh. He closed his eyes, thought of offering up a prayer…

“Hey.”

It came carried on a whisper, and he moved his head to locate its source. “Ralston,” he proclaimed when the Christian’s face appeared blocking his view of the sky. “What’re you doing here?”

Ralston smiled as his eyes took in the wounds. “I wanted you to have something. Thought maybe you’d take it this time.” He held up the same Bible he tried to give him before.

Scott shook his head. “Your family needs you, get out of here.”

“I will, but first I had to make sure you got this.” He knelt over him and examined the entry wounds.

“What are you doing?”

“I used to be a medic.”

“What?”

“Army.”

He would have been shocked had he not been so preoccupied with the pain. “So am I going to make it?”

“If we can stop the bleeding.” He reached out his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

“Help me what?”

“We have to get you back.”

Struggling to his feet, Scott noticed the sudden absence of soldiers. “Where’d they go?”

“They started heading back to the commune.”

Ralston led Scott into one of the houses that bordered the woods, even while the soldiers were at the other end and rounding everyone up. He stripped Scott of his jacket and sweatshirt and went immediately to work on removing the bullets. “The one in your side went straight through,” he said. “The one in your shoulder’s going to take some digging. This might hurt.”

Scott looked into his eyes, appreciation pouring from his own. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“They need you out there.”

“You need me in here.”

Scott stared at him in awe. “But why?”

“Because I’ll be with them forever…”

Trying not to pass out from the pain of having Ralston’s fingers moving around inside his arm, he clenched his teeth, his hands gripping the sides of the table he was lying on.

When he was done, Ralston said, “I could be fancy and try burning the wound shut like they used to do in the movies, but I don’t think it’s necessary. What do you…” And then he jabbed a needle through his skin.

Scott curled his toes, his eyes rolling into his head as he groaned.

“Sorry,” Ralston apologized.

Ten seconds later, the hole in his shoulder had a single piece of fishing line holding it together. Thirty seconds after that, he had a clean rag taped over it.

“Hopefully this doesn’t get infected before you can get some real care. But at least you won’t bleed to death.”

Scott sat up and gingerly touched his side. It was a good tape job.

And then came shouting from outside, a soldier asking if anyone was in there.

“You should hide here,” Ralston said, wiping the blood off on his pants.

“Where are you going?”

“Like you said, I need to be with them.” He handed the Bible over and gave him a quick hug. “Make sure my sacrifice isn’t in vain.” He patted him on the back. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Matthew Scott.”

“It’s Joshua, actually,” he replied.

But Ralston only smiled, turned, and walked toward the door. He started whistling an old hymn.

Not knowing what he was doing, Scott reached him just as the door swung open to reveal a line of soldiers standing fixed out in the pouring rain. Most of the commune was rounded up with them, held at gunpoint. Ralston’s effort to save his life seemed pointless now.

“Friends!” Ralston shouted, getting the soldiers’ attention, and all their guns with it.

“Come out of there!” one of the soldiers yelled.

Ralston raised his hands in surrender but didn’t make any effort to comply. “My friends, why have you come here to persecute us? We are nothing to you.”