The Caleb Collection

by Ted Dekker

  “Set off the rest of the charges and order the men to the north hill,” he said. “We’re going after the Ark.”

  There was the possibility that he had it wrong—that the other Jews had the Ark and the two on the north hill were a decoy. He doubted that Rebecca would leave the Ark in another soldier’s charge, but it was possible.

  He snatched up his satellite phone and keyed in his father’s number. The Arab world was about to receive a little shock, and at least half of him wasn’t disappointed. Abu would pull out the stops now.

  It was time for Islam to crawl out of hibernation.

  36

  Abu Ismael walked along the hedge of roses beside the Egyptian president, hands folded behind his back, head lifted to the palace gardens. Yusaf al-Zeid strode tall, wearing his patented slight smile, listening carefully without much sign of emotion. Not much, but some. Abu had met with him on three other occasions in years past and found him to be a man thoroughly in command of himself. But the information Al-Zeid had just ingested was challenging the man’s impeccable facade, Abu thought.

  “I have full authority from the king to commit all Syrian forces on the one condition that you agree to join us,” Abu said.

  “And the others?” President Al-Zeid asked.

  “Jordan is dependent on both Syria and Egypt. Their military is a fraction of ours. But they clearly understand the threat we face. Not to defend the Haram al-Sharif will cost us Islamic unity. I’m sure you see that.”

  “Yes, I see that. I may be getting older, but I haven’t lost my sight. Islam will never lose the Haram al-Sharif—you have my full support on that objective.”

  “Then we should have your support on the military operation. If the Ark arrives in Jerusalem and we don’t move in the appropriate time, while surprise is still on our side, we will face an escalation which will only bring in the West. And we aren’t in a position to engage the United States.”

  Al-Zeid nodded. “My predecessor tried the surprise route with your country once before. Do you like airplanes, General?”

  “Airplanes. Yes, I suppose so.”

  “We lost almost all of our airplanes while they were still on the ground in that surprise attack. As it turned out, the Israelis surprised us.”

  “We didn’t have 40,000 armed Palestinians in Israel’s borders in ’73 either. They are preparing to mobilize already. Of Israel’s 87,000 air force personnel, 55,000 are on reserve. That’s two-thirds. We believe that the Palestinians can ground half of their air force with their raids. Israel has 475 fighters and roughly 130 attack helicopters. If half of these are rendered inactive, your air force alone will have even odds. In 1973 your air force was dominated by MiGs. Now you have over 200 F-16 or Mirage fighters, not to mention over 80 modern attack helicopters. In ’73 you had none. On the ground, we have an overwhelming advantage—9,000 tanks to their 4,300. We have nearly three times as many infantrymen, and they’re far better trained than they were in ’73. We outnumber them in nearly every category of armaments, and most importantly we will be engaging them on four fronts.” Abu sighed. “It all boils down to their air force. If we can limit their air power, we could take them in three days.”

  President Al-Zeid chuckled. “We may be twice as large, but half of our equipment is obsolete.”

  “But we still hold the advantage. I could go on—nearly two-thirds of your tank force has now been upgraded to M-60s or M-1As. We both have advanced guided missiles that could cause havoc in their cities. Together we have five times as many antiaircraft guns and three times as much artillery. We have—”

  “Yes, yes, General. I know what we have.” He turned to face Abu and raised an eyebrow. “It seems that your country has boosted its intelligence budget.”

  Abu ignored the innuendo.

  Al-Zeid nodded. “All right, I agree that we now have the tactical strength to overwhelm Israel with a four-front assault, as you’ve described. Frankly, I’ve thought so for a few years now.” He lifted a finger. “You’re forgetting Lebanon—they will be a thorn in Israel’s north. I believe you still have over 30,000 men stationed there. But there’s one small detail you are missing, aren’t you?”

  “Their nuclear arsenal. Yes, but they won’t use nuclear weapons close in, on their own country. If we can get into Israel quickly enough, we eliminate their nuclear option. We’re proposing a three-phase attack we don’t think they will anticipate.”

  Abu took a breath.

  “Yes, go on.”

  “The Palestinians attack Israeli airfields with every man they have. This before either Syria, Egypt, or Jordan has openly mobilized. But we already have limited mobilization. As you say, we have 30,000 men in Lebanon and 40,000 men in the Golan area, including the 14th Special Forces Division which recently moved from the Beirut area. Supported by a massive artillery attack from the rear, we could invade the Golan without warning. Our 5th and 7th Mechanized divisions are in the region and we have five more armored divisions between the Golan and Damascus. If Israel’s air force is hampered by the Palestinians, we could easily push through the Golan with a massive assault in ten hours. Egypt would engage in a similar move to the south and Jordan to the east. We have geography on our side—Israel is a very small country. Syria will commit 300MiGs to flood the northern skies. Obsolete or not, they will provide a significant complication for the Israelis, leaving the south open for your air force. How long would it take to reach Tel Aviv with 200 of your F-16s and Mirage fighters?”

  “Not long. It would have to be very well coordinated.”

  “But not so well that it foretells itself. That’s the key, sir. A sudden attack without warning. You’re currently running a joint armored division exercise with the Saudis outside of Dhaba?”

  “Yes,” Al-Zeid said.

  “Move the tanks to Jordan’s border,” Abu said. “Keep your air force and your armored divisions in the Sinai on high alert, and move only if the Palestinian forces are successful in inflicting significant damage to Israel’s air force.”

  “No, General. I will not commit to a limited engagement. If we go, we go full force. But I’m still concerned about their tactical nuclear weapons. We should be discussing this with my generals.”

  “And we will. But first I need your commitment in principle.”

  “And all of this is precipitated by the Jews’ discovery of the Ark of the Covenant.” The president shook his head. “You are absolutely sure about this?”

  “Our sources are impeccable. Either way, we would not attack unless the Ark actually reached Jerusalem, and then only if we felt certain that the Knesset would act on it.”

  “By voting to rebuild their Temple.”

  “Yes. But we can’t wait until they’ve mobilized and gathered support from the West. We will have lost the advantage.”

  “And just where is this Ark supposed to be at this time?”

  They came to a table with a silver tea set, and Al-Zeid invited him to sit with a sweep of his hand. In truth, Abu had no clue where the Ark was now. He wasn’t even positive it existed. If it didn’t, none of this would matter. If it did, on the other hand, all of this would matter very much.

  “The archaeological expedition has left the monastery I told you about and is headed for the sea. The Saudis have agreed to triple their patrol over the southern sea, and I will ask you to do the same over the northern sea. We also have a commando team on the ground in pursuit. All routes north are being blocked. But in the event they slip through, they could be in Jerusalem as soon as two days from now.”

  “Two days! So soon!”

  Abu nodded.

  “The others can move that fast?”

  “Yes. Without a full mobilization, yes. It could work, sir. It really could work. In fact, this may be the only time it could work.” Abu sipped at the green tea. “I’m sure that there are those who are praying for the Ark to arrive in Jerusalem so that we will be forced into war. In their mind it is a gift from Allah.”

  “Gif
t? A gift that would cost many lives.”

  “A small price for the sanctity of Islam, some would say. We can’t allow the Jews to take away the Haram al-Sharif. In the end, many more would die. Muslim masses would stampede, from Teheran to Jakarta.”

  The Egyptian president lifted his cup. “The Ark of the Covenant. It’s like something right out of the Koran. The end of an age.”

  “So you agree then? You will commit Egypt?”

  “If the Ark arrives in Jerusalem?”

  “Yes.”

  The president looked off towards the high rises of Cairo on the skyline. A prayer call echoed in the far distance. “I’m not sure either of us has a choice, my friend. The people will have their own say, and we both know what that say will be. I will commit our full support.”

  Abu had known that he would, but hearing him say it sent a chill down his spine. He could not hide a small smile.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing preliminary battle plans which I would like to review with your generals,” Abu said.

  Al-Zeid lifted his hand and snapped his fingers at a man in tailored civilian clothes. The man jogged over. “Call an emergency meeting of the chiefs of staff in one hour. If any of the chiefs can’t be there, make sure the next in command can.”

  The man hesitated. “Yes, sir.” He left at a run.

  “Can you trust the Palestinian forces, General?” Al-Zeid asked. “It would seem that your plan depends on them.”

  “Yes, it does. But their futures are at stake. It’s their homeland we are talking about. They will fight to their deaths; that much I can depend on. I only hope our soldiers have as much heart as they do.”

  “They will. We’re talking about the Haram al-Sharif, Islam’s third most holy site. Believe me they will.” Al-Zeid’s mouth curved to form a slight smile. “Those who believe that this is a gift from Allah may end up being right,” he said.

  The night was both kind and impossible to Rebecca and Caleb. Kind because it kept the heat down and provided cover from the Arabs. Impossible because the same darkness made following Avraham’s lorry almost hopeless, and their first priority was intercepting Avraham. They had no communications and no weapons—for all practical purposes they were at the mercy of whoever happened upon them. Worse, they had no way to warn Solomon that Avraham had hijacked the Ark. That was how Rebecca read the situation.

  Caleb evidently saw their predicament differently. He had taken charge, leading into the night as if he knew precisely where he was going, and it wasn’t up the rough road they both knew the truck had taken.

  They had doubled back to the leper colony after putting some distance between themselves and the Arabs, who, despite riding horses, were in the difficult position of following their tracks in the dark. If the Arabs somehow managed to stay on their trail, it would be a testament to their tracker.

  The road leading north from the leper colony was filled with enough potholes to force Avraham’s truck to a crawl. But after an hour Caleb had veered off the road and headed into the hills.

  Rebecca had stopped on the road. “Where are you going?”

  “This way’s better,” he’d said.

  “And where does this way lead?”

  “It’s the right way, trust me.”

  “I am trusting you. I’ve been following you in the dark for three hours. But I would also like to know why you’re taking us off their trail.”

  “You want to go to Jerusalem, don’t you? We’re going to Jerusalem.”

  “On camels? We need to stay on the road and pray for a truck to pass this way. I have to get to a phone!”

  “There are no trucks or phones on this road.” Caleb turned and walked his camel forward, to the top of a small hill overlooking the road. Rebecca held her camel by the roadside, furious at his presumption.

  “Wait a second! You can’t just—”

  “Yes, I can.” He stopped his camel and turned back. “And you must come with me. We have to get to Jerusalem! It’s what this is about, don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see! This is about the Ark and stopping Avraham. It has nothing to do with you!”

  He looked at the horizon in front of him and then turned back. “I know these hills, Rebecca. Trust me, this is the shortest way to the sea.”

  “And then what? We’ll have lost them!”

  He didn’t answer. For a few long moments they just sat there, facing each other in the darkness.

  “Please, Rebecca. We must go this way.”

  His voice was strong yet gentle, and it made her want to follow him. She turned her camel up the hill and nudged it forward, frustrated but out of options. Without him, she would be lost in this country.

  Caleb led the way without any further explanation. An hour later Rebecca was fighting the unshakable certainty that she’d made a mistake by following him. And if she had, its effects could run through Israel like a black plague.

  What did Avraham have in mind?

  They plodded north through the night, talking only rarely, and then only to discuss practicalities, like the crossing of tricky washes or the best route up some steep hills. Otherwise, Caleb seemed content to stay to himself, and Rebecca’s frustration slowly built. Either way, she was relegated to following this madman as he led her towards the sea. Never mind that neither of them knew what to do once they reached the sea; never mind that Avraham was probably melting the Ark down at that very moment: she had committed herself to stay behind Caleb.

  She’d been a fool to bring him.

  On the other hand, he carried himself with a confidence she had not seen before. Gone was the wide-eyed child of the desert, stumbling around mumbling his prayers, eager to become like Father Hadane. Now Caleb led the way purposefully. Either he had gone completely off the deep end, or he’d found himself. Avraham had hijacked the Ark, and now Caleb had hijacked her mission.

  They made steady progress. The sun rose and climbed the sky slowly. The thoughts from the night had faded with her own weariness.

  Rebecca slumped over her camel and dozed near noon. She woke on and off, each time to the same sight of endless hills and Caleb’s back to her.

  Once she saw him begin to nod off, and for some reason she found the sight amusing. In a way she could not explain, it felt good to be in his hands, she thought. A Jewish man like Caleb would be a good catch. Tall and strong with broad shoulders, yet as gentle as a summer breeze. Not timid, mind you—Caleb had enough courage for ten men. He was a bit strange, admittedly. She wasn’t sure about him in that way, but she imagined he would make an interesting man to live with. And an interesting father . . .

  She shook her head and adjusted herself.

  Dear God, give me grace.

  37

  The Knesset building stood at the center of expansive manicured grounds, seventeen kilometers north of the Temple Mount, a flat, white rectangular slab from the sky. Its level roof overhung an outer walkway lined with Roman columns that supported it on all four sides. In the immediate forecourt the eternal flame burned, its fire licking at an unconsumed “burning bush.” In the outer courts by the main gate, the menorah stood like a pitchfork with seven fingers, each telling its tale of Israel. Thousands of visitors filed by the ornate structure every day. But very few ever found their way into the secret places of the building, where this tiny country at the center of human existence charted its path through history.

  David Ben Solomon glanced at Prime Minister Simon Ben Gurion, who had called these selected government and military leaders to the Government Room today, a departure from his offices where they were more accustomed to doing business. Thirty brown executive chairs snuggled against the large circular table, which was open in the middle. Inset ceiling lights glowed over each chair. It was the kind of place where dignitaries conducted important business, and Solomon fully intended they do precisely that today.

  Goldstein stared at Solomon with dark eyes as he drew out the Ethiopian Ark theory. Apparently the prime minister had
n’t told the Labor Party leader everything yet. Most of the rest knew nothing and listened with vague interest— nothing more than an obscure history lesson that had an eventual relevant point. Several of the Labor Party—the minister of education, Uzi Baram, case in point—watched him sternly. Goldstein’s inner circle. But none of them knew what Solomon and the prime minister knew.

  That the Ark had not only been found; it was now on its way to Jerusalem.

  Solomon took his time, walking around the group like a schoolteacher, enjoying his time on the floor for a change. He said nothing of Rebecca’s expedition. He only led them carefully down a theoretical road which supported the Ark’s existence in Ethiopia, and then bolstered his position that if the Ark were ever found, the Temple had to be rebuilt.

  Only then did he tell them the rest.

  “So, my friends. You may be wondering why the prime minister has invited me to bore you with archaeological theories about a lost holy relic.” He took a deep breath for gravity. “It is because we have found the Ark. And we have found it precisely where this theory suggested it should be. In Ethiopia. Hidden under a monastery, unharmed and fully intact.”

  Some of them blinked; some of them just stared at him. Solomon doubted they completely understood what he had just said.

  “The Ark of the Covenant is on its way to Jerusalem as we speak.”

  The air might have been sucked from the room for the silence that fell over everything.

  Solomon glanced at the prime minister again and saw that he was watching them intently.

  “The Ark is found?” someone said in a soft, unbelieving voice.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.” Solomon felt a sudden pressure of emotion behind his eyes. Saying it here, in front of Israel’s leaders, had a certain weight he had not expected.

  “You . . . you’ve actually found the Ark of the Covenant and are bringing it to Jerusalem?” Moshe Aron asked. The Speaker’s cheeks seemed to sag with his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “No!” Goldstein’s chair skidded back as he stood. “No, we can’t allow that! It’s suicide!”