by Ted Dekker
“You prefer my face covered up?”
“No. I like your face.”
He stared at her for an awkward moment, and then turned on his heel and walked away from the beach.
“What about the trough?” she asked, indicating their fake Ark.
“Leave it.”
Rebecca hurried after him, securing the last of the scarf. “Do you even know where the road is?” Her voice was muted by the cloth over her mouth.
“No,” he said. “But you do. Where is it?”
She pointed in the direction they were walking. “That way.”
The coastal plain along the kingdom’s western coast was a narrow one which led to the Tihama Range and the mountainous Hejaz region before dipping back into the deserts Saudi Arabia was so well known for. A single road snaked north along the coast through mostly deserted land, but the large city of Jidda waited in their path, five hundred kilometers north. They might be able to find a way around the dozen other small towns spotting the coast, but not like this—not on foot.
Rebecca swallowed. “So . . . Caleb. What is the plan?”
He surprised her by answering in plain terms. “To go to Jerusalem. The plan has always been to go to where the Ark is going. We should hurry. Come on.” He began to jog and she caught up quickly. They ran over a small hill and saw the road two hundred meters off, slightly below them.
“We don’t know if the Ark’s even going to Jerusalem,” she said. “Avraham has it.”
“Yes. But even a rumor of the Ark will bring out the armies, isn’t that what you told me? So at least in reputation, the Ark is already in Jerusalem.”
He was right. “Which is why I have to get there,” she said. “Which is why we should have gone into Massawa instead of flying here.”
“Which is why I have to go to Jerusalem,” he said. “The Ark was hidden in the Debra Damarro for a purpose before I was born.”
“You didn’t find the Ark—Zakkai did,” she said. “The Ark has to do with the nation of Israel, not you. Without us, you would still be picking weeds in your garden.”
He turned to her, bright-eyed with excitement. “Exactly! Without you I wouldn’t have found Father Hadane! Without you I wouldn’t have found you! Or the Ark!”
She ignored him and jogged down the hill. He ran past her, tunic flapping in the wind. “Like Elijah, Rebecca!” he said, laughing. “We are running like Elijah! Just like Hadane said we would!”
He did look somewhat like her image of the ancient prophet, but he possessed far too much levity to complete the image.
The road looked freshly paved on the white sand, like a strip of licorice on a bed of cotton. She ran for it on his heels, wondering what in the world he intended to accomplish with a deserted stretch of road.
And then suddenly it wasn’t a deserted stretch of road, because there was a Jeep roaring around the bend.
Rebecca pulled up, but Caleb raced out to the middle of the road, straddled the yellow line with wide legs and faced the oncoming Jeep. “Elijah, Rebecca!” he yelled, wearing a mischievous grin. “Like Elijah! Do you want to jump off a cliff?”
A lone soldier drove for Caleb, pell-mell, less than fifty meters off now. Caleb did not move.
The soldier suddenly cried out in alarm and stood on the brakes. The Jeep laid down a strip of rubber and squealed to a stop, three meters from Caleb. The Saudi soldier stood, furious.
“Get out of the road, you imbecile! You almost got yourself killed!”
“Hello, my friend,” Caleb said. “We would like to use your Jeep. We have an important engagement awaiting us.”
The soldier looked at Rebecca. The shock left his face and he reached for his gun. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“We are trying to go north and we need your Jeep,” Caleb said.
“Don’t be absurd! I am with the Saudi National Guard. You can’t just take . . .” He didn’t bother finishing. “I should have you shot for endangering my life. You westerners think you own our country?”
The man wasn’t backing down. Rebecca looked at Caleb and she thought she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
Caleb lifted his right hand, majestically. “No, you shouldn’t have us shot. You should give us your Jeep.”
The man was unfazed. “I don’t have time for this. I will give you a count of three to get off the road.”
“I don’t think you understand, my friend—”
“One!”
Caleb glanced at Rebecca, and she saw the confusion run through his eyes.
“Two!”
“Caleb?”
“Three!”
Caleb stepped aside.
The soldier humphed. “You nearly died, you fool.” He sat and started the Jeep.
“Could you give us a lift?” Rebecca asked.
The man looked from one to the other. “Who is your employer? Shell Oil?”
Rebecca stepped forward. Thank God Caleb had thought of the head wrap. “Yes. We went on a sightseeing trip with some friends and got lost. If you could take us north towards Jidda, we would be grateful.”
The soldier studied Caleb for a moment, clearly wary. “Jidda? Why didn’t you say so? Step in.”
Rebecca hopped in and scooted over on the back bench. Caleb just looked at her, bewildered. “Caleb? You coming?”
He finally broke out of his stupor, pulled himself in, and sat beside her. “It wasn’t the will of God,” he said to himself.
“Thank you,” Rebecca said to the soldier.
The driver nodded and dropped the clutch. The Jeep jerked forward. Caleb blinked beside her, somewhere between crushed and lost, she thought. She swallowed, patted his knee, and then smiled at him awkwardly.
It took Avraham three hours to persuade Captain Moses Stern to surface long enough for him to make contact with Israel. The captain insisted that he already had his orders—which were directly from the admiral himself— and that activity in the area was three times what it should be. Surfacing exceeded protocol.
There was no protocol for retrieving the Ark, Avraham argued. He had to get through. To whom? To the people who had sent him. They finally surfaced to clear waters and allowed him to use a satellite phone.
Stephen Goldstein answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Good day, sir. I trust all is well in Jerusalem.”
“Avraham? Good heavens . . . where are you, man?”
“I’m in the Red Sea at the moment.”
“Do you know what’s happening up here? Why haven’t you made contact? Never mind! There are some people who are saying that the Ark has actually been discovered and is on the way to Jerusalem.”
“Really?”
Goldstein had always been a pretentious fool, Avraham thought. But he was a wealthy pretentious fool, willing to pay surprising sums of money to block David Ben Solomon, and that had made the last two years manageable. This business of stealing the Ark, were it ever actually found, had started as nothing more than an afterthought. It was Goldstein’s way of covering his bases.
“Then they would be right,” Avraham said.
The line was silent. “You . . . you actually have the Ark?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
Another silence.
“I’m sorry, Stephen, but I don’t have all day,” Avraham said, enjoying the moment. “We’re on a submarine, and the captain is a bit testy.”
“What does it look like?”
“The Ark? It looks like a gold box. A gold box that’s worth a billion dollars if it’s worth a penny. I’ve been thinking that we should renegotiate. The rest are dead, you know. I left no witnesses. How much is that worth?”
“You’re also on a state submarine, for heaven’s sake!”
“I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I? I want double.”
“You cannot allow that relic to enter Israel! They’re losing their minds here already.”
“Double.”
“We can’t actually
sell the thing, you fool! If the world even discovers that it exists, we will have problems.”
“Then someone will pay for its disposal. Either way I want double. Four million U.S. dollars, my friend.”
“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
“We’re having it because I actually have the Ark.”
“Just get it to Eilat, as we talked about. You’ll get your money.”
“I will expect you to remember our agreement.”
“And I expect you to remember that if the Ark shows up in Jerusalem, there will be problems. Many people will die. Among them, they will find your body. That is also part of my agreement.”
“You’re threatening me, Stephen?”
“I am rounding out our deal. It’s the price for your increased payment.”
Avraham spit overboard. “Your people are ready in Eilat?”
“Of course. They’re ready.”
“Good.”
“Do not fail me,” Goldstein said.
Avraham hung up on him.
41
The driver had a name, and he was eager to give it. Ahmed. He was a talker, but Caleb didn’t seem so eager to chat, so Ahmed settled for talking to Rebecca. So he said after carefully eyeing Caleb for the fifth time.
It was Ahmed’s first year in the army, and he was eager to show the world that the kingdom could fight like any other superpower. Saudi Arabia might only have seventeen million people—okay, fourteen without the foreigners— but it owned much oil and great wealth and would one day be seen for its true power. He was one of a new breed of soldiers, ready to fight with modern weapons and a new courage. And so on and on with Rebecca’s encouragement. As long as he was boasting, his mind would remain occupied.
He was actually going past Jidda and, as it turned out, so were they. They rambled through three checkpoints without even stopping.
Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if Caleb’s God hadn’t come through after all. One look at the military Jeep, and the guards would merely wave a hand, evidence of the fact that this territory had not seen a proper military conflict in over a hundred years. If, on the other hand, Caleb had succeeded in commandeering the Jeep, they would have been stopped at the first checkpoint.
The ride lasted eight long awkward hours, the latter half of which Caleb slept through. It ended in a town called Wejh where Rebecca learned that Ahmed was on his way to a special military exercise near the border.
What kind of exercise?
A security exercise, he said. No civilian would make it anywhere near the border with Jordan without being thoroughly interrogated. In fact, the first post was set up just beyond this very town.
When she asked him why they were running the exercise, he took an indignant tone. That was military business. Way over her head. Over her head or not, Rebecca knew then that their ride with Ahmed had outlived its usefulness.
She reached over and shook Caleb only to discover that he had already woken. He’d heard as well. But instead of looking concerned, he wore a coy smile. She felt a small shaft of alarm rise through her chest.
“You may let us off here, Ahmed,” Caleb said.
“Here? I thought you were going all the way to Dhaba?”
“We are. But we need to rest and eat.”
“It’s only two more hours.”
Rebecca leaned forward and spoke quickly. “Actually, my friend has a condition which must be treated when it flares up,” she said apologetically.
“I’m sure you can understand.”
Ahmed glanced at Caleb in the mirror. “Condition? What kind of condition?”
“It’s something I’d rather not talk about.” The buildings were thinning as they approached the end of the town. “But we need to stop now. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. You go on. Just let us off at this street.”
He pulled over, let them climb out, and sped off after they’d thanked him again.
They stood on the side of the empty street, watching the Jeep disappear to the north. “Well, that was a close call,” Rebecca said. “I can’t believe we got this far.”
“Condition?” Caleb said.
“Well, you do have a condition, don’t you? You’re obsessed with jumping off cliffs. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” A mischievous glint crossed his eyes. He turned and began to walk towards the north.
“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked.
“To cure my condition,” he said.
She ran after him, pulling the wrap from her face. Without the breeze from the Jeep, it was suffocating.
“What are you talking about? You heard what he said. There’s a post ahead!”
“Exactly.”
“Caleb, listen to me. I know you were embarrassed back there, but we can’t do this!”
“Do what? Never mind, I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I’m going to Jerusalem.” He winked at her and kept walking. “I’m going to Jerusalem because I can feel it drawing me like the tide. Nothing tells the tide to stop halfway in, and nothing is telling me to stop now. If you would like to find us a car, that’s fine, I’ll ride. But either way I’m going that way.” He pointed north.
They were walking around a bend, and suddenly the first soldiers came into view, a hundred meters off. Rebecca stopped.
“Caleb!”
“Yes, I see them.”
“Please, this is insane! You failed back at the Jeep. Your tricks didn’t work. Now for God’s sake, you don’t have to do this!”
“Yes, Rebecca. Actually, I do have to do this. For God’s sake.”
“No, you don’t!” The road ahead was thick with soldiers. Two tanks sat on each side of the post, their guns pointing ominously. “Don’t be so bullheaded! We walk in there and we might as well be dead.”
“I’m going.”
She felt panic rip through her spine. “Why? You don’t have to do this!”
He spun to her and hit his forehead with an open palm. “Yes, I do have to do this!” He stared at her fiercely. “And I think that you have to do it as well.”
His shoulders relaxed and he took a deep breath. “I can’t explain what happened at the Jeep, but then I’m not supposed to know how these things happen either. I’m only supposed to do them.” He pointed behind him at the soldiers, some of whom had noticed them and were watching them curiously. “I am supposed to do this. The world hangs in the balance, and you want me to question now?”
“But—”
“We don’t have time, Rebecca.” He lowered his arm and walked back for her. “Please, you aren’t here by mistake. While we were in the desert, did you ever think you’d be here, so far north, with me? No, but you are, Rebecca. And you’re alive. Please, come. You’ll see. I promise you’ll see.”
She looked into his eyes, and for the hundredth time since first meeting him, she wanted to curse him. To curse this mad grip he seemed to have on her. To curse the impossible situation he seemed to have worked her into. He was determined to help her jump off one of his cliffs.
“We will die,” she said.
“We’ll die if we go back.”
The sweat on the back of her neck felt chilled. Every fiber in her legs screamed for her to spin and run south, away from the hundreds of armed soldiers waiting seventy meters away. Soldiers who were undoubtedly looking for a man and a woman, foreigners, traveling together.
“This is crazy!” she whispered through clenched teeth.
“Madness,” he said.
The world seemed to slow around her. She became aware of her steady breathing.
“It’s ridiculous,” she said.
“It’s freedom,” he said and she blinked at the twinkle in his eye.
She took her first step towards the soldiers before she had consciously made up her mind to go with him. Caleb turned and walked by her side in the direction of the tanks.
There were at least three dozen guards on the road itself, leaning on the tanks. They wore the familiar tan desert garb of the
Saudi army. Slowly they ceased their talking and turned to face Caleb and Rebecca.
“You will remember this, Rebecca,” Caleb said in a very soft voice.
“Watch carefully.”
It occurred to her that she had left the wrap off her face. Maybe that’s what the soldiers were staring at. They’d turned and stood squarely, with crossed arms, like a firing squad. She was marching to her death.
Rebecca swallowed. Dear God, have mercy on me. I beg you, have mercy on me!
Beside her, Caleb lifted both arms out to them, as if he wanted to bless them. She glanced at his face—his eyes might as well have been on fire. The corners of his mouth twitched to a crazy thin grin. He kept a steady pace, and she forced herself to keep stride with him against her will.
Several of the soldiers shifted their weapons. They clearly weren’t waiting with open arms.
“I want to tell you something, Rebecca,” Caleb said without turning. “The power of God is not in the Ark. It’s not in the Ark of the Covenant because there’s a New Covenant between God and man, and that Covenant is Christ’s promise to send the Holy Spirit. He wants you to know that. It’s his power, not mine.”
Rebecca felt a lump of desperation rise through her throat, and her vision suddenly blurred with tears. Dear God, have mercy on me.
“Stop!”
Caleb did not stop.
She matched his stride. They were thirty meters away. Several rifle barrels lifted.
“Stop! I said, stop!” The cry was tighter and higher pitched.
A murmur rippled over the waiting soldiers—but Caleb walked on. Rebecca could feel her hands shaking at her sides.
“It’s them. It’s them!” someone cried in Arabic.
With those words, two things happened simultaneously in a way Rebecca never could have imagined. The first was a clanking sound of three dozen rifles snatched up to aim in their direction. That she understood clearly enough, like a bullet between the eyes.
But the second came on the heels of the first: an impossible sense of peace—almost as if it were a material substance she’d walked into—settling around her mind. Or perhaps she had indeed stepped off a cliff, and instead of falling, she was floating on this cloud of simple assurance. It was the kind of peace she thought might arrive the moment before death.
