The Guardian

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  Jason couldn’t breathe. He had heard about this his whole life. He had read about it in the Bible. Heard preachers talk about it. Had seen it—or at least a Hollywood representation of it—in movies. And now here he was standing in front of the curtain that was torn when Jesus expelled his last breath, signifying that no longer would man have to come to God through another man. From that point on, Jesus was the bridge between man and God. The new covenant.

  It seemed like hours. But after only a few seconds of staring in awe, Jason felt his arm being pulled by Anna.

  “Jason, come on! We don’t have much time!”

  “I—I know. It’s just that …”

  “I know, Jason. It’s real! It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Anna, it is,” he said in awe.

  Anna pushed aside the curtain as she and Jason stepped into a small room. It was exactly as Benjamin described. Nothing more than what looked to be about the size of a small bedroom. There were a few carvings on the walls. Words mostly. And they looked to be in Hebrew. This floor also was marble tile with jewels in the center.

  A golden box with four handles protruding from it sat on the ground. It looked to be about three feet tall, three feet wide, and roughly five feet long. It was covered in dust, but that didn’t

  obscure the intricate carvings that lined its top and sides. The lid held jewels that were as big as a man’s fist. The sides were draped in silk cloths and beads, and drawings of an altar were expertly carved into it. Even someone with little knowledge of the Bible would know this box.

  Jason began to weep. He fell to his knees and whispered, “My God, my King, I am not worthy.”

  Anna didn’t know what was happening to her. She couldn’t see for the tears that flooded her eyes. She trembled with fear. But it wasn’t the kind of fear that one would normally associate with being scared. It was more of a respectful fear. She felt her knees give out, and the next thing she knew, she was lying prostrate on the floor next to Jason.

  Three feet from the ark of the covenant.

  CHAPTER 62

  Jerusalem, outside the Wailing Wall

  Patrice dusted herself off and checked that she didn’t have any major injuries. A scraped knee, a few singed hairs, a knot on the back of her head—which, by the way, felt like an egg and was throbbing to beat the band—and a couple of bruised ribs. Nothing serious.

  Someone had killed Ramon, and God only knew who else. She found her radio and keyed the mike. “Bravo One to command. Come in, over.”

  Nothing.

  With her weapon drawn, Patrice continued down the street to where Christopher was supposed to be. She knew that she had only a few seconds to do this. Right now, whether her team was dead or not didn’t matter. Anna and Jason were in danger. She needed to find them and get them out of here. But where in the heck were they? Christopher was the only one who would know that, because he was the one watching them. She and the rest of the team were simply posted around the area to watch for

  suspicious activity. Guess they’d get an A plus on that one.

  She found Christopher lying facedown behind a couple of trash cans. He had some newspaper over his body. He looked like a homeless man who was trying to keep warm.

  When she turned him over, she saw that he had been shot three times. Twice in the chest and once in the hand. He must’ve had his gun shot out of his hand.

  She was about to leave when she felt a small squeeze on her arm. He was alive. She rolled him onto his back to give him CPR.

  She was pushing on his chest, trying to pump his heart, when she heard the gurgling sound come from his mouth. He was trying to tell her something.

  She leaned down and put her ear to his lips. “What, Chris? What is it? Who did this to you? To us?”

  His words were strained and came in short gasps. “Listen … to me …. Find them …. Anna …”

  “Yes! Yes! Where are they?”

  “Mossad … old man … helping them …”

  “What? You’re not making any sense!” She patted his cheeks. “Stay with me Christopher! You hear me?” She beat on his chest. “This mission is not over! You open your eyes and debrief me right now. That’s an order!”

  His eyes fluttered open a little bit and a smile creased his lips. He coughed a little blood out of his mouth and pulled her back down.

  “They … are with … a Mossad agent …. I saw them … go into … that building.” He pointed to the abandoned building down the street at the end of the block.

  “Are they safe?”

  “No.” He coughed. “Find … them …. Must get back … to London.”

  “Come on, Christopher! Stay with me,” she yelled as he coughed up some more blood.

  “Mossad … is okay …. Trying to help … only one guy … friend of Thomas … Riley … have seen him … before.”

  “What about Anna and Jason? How do I find them?”

  “Don’t … know …. Find Mossad guy.” He coughed some more. This time a lot of blood came up. “Hurry … leave me … mission not over—”

  And with that, a small bubbly breath escaped his lips. Christopher Wallace was dead.

  Patrice held his head in her hands for another moment. She closed his eyes and said good-bye. She checked her weapon and stood up. She needed to find this Mossad guy. She went exactly where Christopher told her to go. The abandoned building.

  Jerusalem, the Holy of Holies

  Anna felt as if it had been hours since she and Jason had been lying on the ground, though it was only a minute or two. She stood up first, wiping the tears from her eyes. She touched Jason on the shoulder, and he stood up with her.

  “Anna, do you realize that we are staring at the literal place where God’s presence dwelt with his people! This was the most sacred thing in all of Israel.”

  She was about to say something when she heard another voice. They both were startled. The voice came from all around them, but there was no one there.

  “Welcome, Anna, Jason.”

  And then they saw him. Or it. They weren’t sure.

  A little white light appeared before them, hovering at eye level.

  Then the light began to grow in intensity and size until the entire room was flooded with blinding white. Just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving a giant with wings holding a mighty sword and wearing a breastplate. He was clothed in a purple robe, and his eyes were greener and more brilliant than the finest emerald. The sword he carried was at least eight feet long and had a serrated blade that was stained with what they could only assume was blood. The breastplate was dinged and scratched and looked as if it had seen much battle. His head was bald except for one lock of white hair in a braid that trailed all the way to the floor. The braid was held in place, at the tip, by a blood-stained razorlike blade, as if the creature used his hair as a weapon. “I am Michael.”

  “Uh … you mean Michael? As in the Michael?” Jason stammered, still shocked at seeing the giant. “The archangel. Yes.”

  Jason found his voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Michael almost smiled but not quite. “You two have caused quite a stir around here. Do you realize that God’s people haven’t seen the mercy seat for centuries?”

  “You mean the ark?” Jason asked.

  “Yes,” Michael answered. “You are standing in one of the holiest places on your earth. What you call the ark, we call the mercy seat, because it used to be the earthly throne of the presence of Yahweh.”

  “What do you mean ‘used to’?” Anna asked.

  Now Michael smiled fully. “Since God became flesh, His spirit lives within those whom Christ has saved. He has no more need of an earthly throne.”

  Anna had a worried look on her face. “Michael, I don’t mean to be rude, but we really have to hurry. There could be men with

  guns coming in here any second.”

  Michael nodded. “What you seek is not here.”

  “What do you mean?” Anna asked. “It has
to be! This is where my grandfather’s research leads. The ark. It’s right here!”

  “All I can tell you is, the key you seek is not the ark. And it is definitely not here.”

  The air seemed to leave the room. Anna and Jason again felt as if they had failed.

  Michael moved out from in front of the ark of the covenant. “You may stay here and worship for a few more minutes if you like, but remember that which you worship does not dwell in this box, beautiful as it may be. So pay no homage to it. Worship Him who sits on the throne of heaven. The Father has given us these few minutes to speak. Once I leave you, I will once again be engaged in battle. This place, believe it or not, is one of the fiercest battlegrounds we angels fight upon. When I am gone, only several seconds of your time will have passed. You needn’t waste precious time looking around. You must get out. I believe your friend, the old man, told you of a way?”

  “Yes,” Anna answered. “An underground stream that we can swim through and escape.”

  “That is the way you need to leave,” Michael said. “I will hold off any attacks from my side of the world against you. Trust me, you will be fine. Just remember to pray. Only God can deliver you from the dangers you face.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Jerusalem, the Wailing Wall

  Benjamin watched the giant fireball engulf the night sky. Seconds later the heat of the explosion concussed against him. His part of the mission was successful. He only hoped that Anna and Jason had been as successful.

  He knew that what lay ahead for the two youngsters was a very difficult task. The chance of getting what they came for and escaping unharmed was slim. He knelt behind the cluster of shrubs and prayed for them.

  The cold steel of the silenced pistol poked him in the back of the neck. Then there was a hand placed on his shoulder. A big beefy hand. The voice that accompanied the hand was stern.

  “Okay, mon. Get up slowly and put your hands behind your back.”

  He placed his hands behind his back and stood up slowly.

  He had just gotten to his feet when the big man suddenly went limp like a rag doll. He fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving. A trickle of blood seeped out from underneath the man’s head.

  Benjamin looked up and saw an attractive young female approaching him. She had a silenced Smith & Wesson .45 in her hand. It was still outstretched from her arm and pointed at him.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Benjamin had to decide quickly. This woman obviously had just spared his life. But why? Who was she? And how did she just happen to come upon his situation just then?

  And then he remembered. Anna and Jason had a team of specialized security with them here in Jerusalem.

  “My name is Benjamin. I believe we are on the same team, my dear.”

  “Uh, uh,” she said, waving her gun at him. “Keep those hands where I can see them, love.” She moved closer. “Now tell me who you are and what you’re doing holding a detonation device in your hand. And you’d better make it good or I’m going to split your skull open. Understood?”

  Benjamin realized he was actually in little danger. It would only take him convincing this woman who he was and what he was doing here to diffuse the situation. But this didn’t need to be done out in the open with hundreds of people rushing around in chaos from the blast. He knew they both needed to get someplace safe. The large Jamaican man who lay dead at his feet definitely had friends.

  “Follow me,” he said to the woman. And then he took off at a brisk pace away from the wall.

  One block west. Two blocks north. Down a little alley and into the door of a building that looked condemned. Patrice dropped her guard as she entered the doorway just enough for him to get the upper hand on her. Within a matter of seconds, she was the one on the ground having her own weapon pointed at her.

  “Now, young lady,” Benjamin said with a smile, “as I said before, I believe you and I are on the same team.” He released the

  grip on the gun, flipped it around in his hand, and handed it back to her. As she took it, he reached his hand down to help her up. “You are unhurt?”

  She smirked. “Other than my ego, I think I’m fine.”

  He stuck his hand out to her. “My name’s Benjamin. I am a Mossad agent, a former friend of Thomas Riley, and a current associate of his granddaughter, Anna. I am the one who helped them into the mosque.”

  Patrice told him who she was and how her whole team had been eliminated.

  “Well, we’re safe in here. I assure you,” Benjamin said after she finished.

  “Maybe, but Anna and Jason aren’t. Whoever did this to my team is good—no, better than good. ‘Cause my team was the best, and they’re all dead. And if they think we’re all dead, there’s nothing to stop them from going after Anna and Jason except us. Where are they now? Anna and Jason?”

  “I would imagine, by now, they are swimming through the underground stream.”

  “Underground stream?”

  “Yes. That is how they were to escape. There is a stream, or river, that flows under the mosque. It has been there since the first temple was built. It empties out a few blocks away from the wall.”

  “We have to go.” Patrice grabbed his arm. “If those people know about that underground river, they’ll be waiting for them on the other side.”

  Jerusalem, the Holy of Holies

  As quickly as Michael had appeared, he was gone. Anna and Jason

  wasted no time leaving the sacred room. They could already hear the heavy footsteps above them getting louder. It would only be a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before they would be discovered.

  They found the spiraling pathway that supposedly led down to the underground stream. With flashlights in hand, they hurried down the dirt path, ducking jagged rocks that lined the walls.

  Less than fifteen meters later, the path abruptly ended in what looked like a giant puddle. Surprisingly, the water was crystal clear. They could see straight to the bottom if they shone their lights into it. It was roughly five meters in diameter and looked to be about eight or ten meters deep.

  Anna secured her backpack with the front straps while Jason reached into his to retrieve the breathing devices and the glow sticks they had been given. He handed Anna one set and then secured his pack again. The footsteps became louder. They had already used up precious time removing the robes they were wearing. The used garments now lay in a pile on the dirt. They both wore neoprene running pants and close-fitting T-shirts they’d bought at a sporting goods store in London, intending to work out as much as they could. The workouts hadn’t happened, but it seemed good clothing to wear under their disguises. And now they’d get their workout after all—swimming for their lives.

  The footsteps echoed down through the tunnel. They had to go. Anna was about to jump in head first when Jason grabbed her by the arm.

  “Wait!” he said.

  “Jason, they’re coming!”

  He took her hand. His words came in a tumbled rush. “God, please watch over us and keep us safe. In Jesus’ name, amen.” “Amen,” Anna said. “Now let’s go!”

  She jumped in head first and felt the surprisingly warm water

  soak through her clothes. Jason followed. The men’s footsteps could be heard coming down the path. They each twisted the little valve on their breathing tanks and put them in their mouths. They gave each other a thumbs-up signal, cracked the glow sticks, and dove down toward the bottom of the pool.

  The first bullet ripped through the water just centimeters from Anna’s head. Within seconds the guards stood above them showering bullets into the small pool. They dove deeper, and the water below turned murky and dark.

  CHAPTER 64

  The Via Dolorosa

  Anna and Jason pushed their way through the crowds that had gathered to see what was going on at the Dome of the Rock. Reporters stared into their cameras giving what details they knew to the rest of the world. No one paid any attention to
the fact that there were two young Americans standing in the middle of the street soaking wet.

  The swim through the stream was an easy one. Most of the way the path was clear and wide enough for them to swim side by side. Only twice did they have to go single file, and then only briefly.

  There were several cabs waiting across the street. They ran to the first one they came to and jumped in.

  “Airport, please,” Anna directed the driver.

  The man pulled the gear shift on the steering column and punched the gas. “It will be fifty dollars, US.”

  “What?” Jason said. “Are you kidding? It’s only like ten minutes from here.”

  Anna saw the man through the rearview mirror shrug his

  shoulders and curl his mouth. “Bombs go off, people need to get away quickly, I don’t ask questions. Fifty dollars, US. You are American, yes?”

  “Fine.” She reached into her backpack and grabbed two twenties and a ten out of her zipped pocket and fed them through the slot in the glass that separated them from the driver.

  She stared down into the backpack and at the scroll. It amazed her that something so small could cause all of this trouble. She felt a twinge of anxiety as she ran her fingers along the steel casing that she had purchased to house it. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

  Jonathan turned the corner just in time to see one of his men waving to him from the passenger window of an SUV. The big Suburban’s tires squealed as it made a U-turn out of the parking space and pulled up beside him. The rear door flung open just long enough for him to jump in.

  “That’s them, in the cab up ahead,” his driver said.

  “Don’t lose them,” Jonathan ordered. “And don’t bother staying back. As soon as we get out of this traffic, I want to take them out.”

  “What? Right here in the city?” one of the men asked.

  “Yes. Every cop and emergency vehicle in the whole town is heading for the Wailing Wall. No one will even bat an eye at us. At least not for a while.”