The Belial Guard (The Belial Series Book 8)

by R. D. Brady

  “Yeah, as far as we can tell, all the Honu members in the area have been accounted for. And all the bomb components were also accounted for.”

  “But you’re not convinced,” Mustafa said.

  Laney shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s that Elisabeta helped us that makes it feel wrong. But something isn’t right. I mean, who took that shot? And why?”

  Yoni looked out over the quiet street. “I spent my childhood here. I came back and did my military service. Israel is in my blood. I have a lot of family still here.” He looked back at Laney. “I need to know that I did everything I could to protect them.”

  “We still have contacts on the Mount and the surveillance van,” Mustafa said.

  Laney looked between the two of them: one Israeli Jew and one Egyptian Muslim working together. “How about if we just go watch for a while?”

  CHAPTER 67

  Laney rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the kink that had developed in them. She’d been sitting in the surveillance van by herself, outside the public entrance to the Western Wall, for the last thirty minutes. Before that, she had walked the Western Wall and surrounding area but had seen nothing out of place. Yoni had gone to speak with the security at the Western Wall, and Mustafa was speaking with the security at the Temple Mount. Their SIA badges had gotten them full cooperation.

  Laney sighed, wishing not for the first time that there were surveillance cameras on the Mount. Right now, all she had were shots of the entrances and the Western Wall. Danny had linked in a satellite feed of the Mount, but it was too far out to get much detail—although it did show the hundreds of people, if not thousands, milling about.

  As she sat, she couldn’t help but think about all the history of this place—and most especially, the one historical event most personal to her: the reign of Solomon. It was here that the ring of Solomon gained prominence. Solomon had used the ring to control demons to build his temple—and in doing so, had in essence publicly outed himself as the ring bearer. It would be like wandering into the middle of New York and raining lightning bolts down; there would be no way anyone could look at that accomplishment and not know that something was special about the person who had done it.

  Laney recoiled from the idea. Especially after the bridge incident and the Mike Wallace segment and the media inquiries, she wanted no part of that. It was tough enough doing what she had to do without having Joe Public breathing down her neck.

  But I suppose, for Solomon, it was different. He was already a king. The world bowed and scraped before him. If he had been a nobody, had come out of obscurity, their reaction wouldn’t have been as kind.

  Now Solomon’s temple was long gone, as was the second temple built to replace it.

  That only leaves the third, a voice whispered in the back of Laney’s mind.

  There was a prophecy regarding the building of a third temple. It was said that it would be built on the same site as the two previous temples—but that when it was erected, the Antichrist would desecrate the temple and declare himself to be God.

  The Antichrist—the individual who was believed to bring about the end of days. At first he would be viewed as a hero, a saint among men, his true face hidden from view. But soon his true nature would be revealed. And he would lead to the downfall of the human race.

  Laney stared at the Temple Mount on the satellite feed. How on earth would anyone be able to erect a new temple there? No one would ever agree to construction of a new temple, and it wasn’t as if someone could just wander in with all the building materials and get to work. Everyone who went in was searched.

  Laney examined the satellite feed and frowned. A water tent had been set up outside the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Due to the high temperatures, that seemed normal enough—but it was also the only new addition to the Temple Mount.

  She drummed her hands on the table, her unease growing. She grabbed her radio. “Mustafa?”

  “Yes, Laney.”

  “I need you to go check out the water tent. But do it quietly, okay?”

  “On my way.”

  Laney stepped out of the van and looked toward the Western Wall. There were thousands of tourists and devotees here, and up on the Temple Mount would be just as many.

  We stopped it. Whatever was going to happen, we stopped it. She repeated the words, but somehow she couldn’t make herself believe them.

  “Laney.” It was Mustafa’s voice, and he sounded panicked.

  Laney’s heart jumped. “What is it?”

  “There’s a bomb. It’s in the tent, wrapped in the tent fabric.”

  Laney was already running for the entrance to the Western Wall. “Is there a timer?”

  “Yes. Twenty-one minutes.”

  Laney stared at the enormous crowds. That’s not enough time.

  CHAPTER 68

  The security forces at the Temple Mount were incredibly efficient. People were being herded away from the location mere minutes after Mustafa spoke with Laney. But they were still moving too slowly. At this rate, hundreds would be killed. Laney was tempted to ask one of the officers to shoot a weapon in the air, but she was worried that would cause a stampede, and potentially create precisely the political incident she wanted to prevent.

  Laney looked around in frustration. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t. It seemed no matter what she did at this moment, people were going to be hurt or killed.

  She grabbed her radio. “Mustafa, report.”

  “They’re moving them out, but it’s taking time.”

  “What about the bomb squad?”

  “They were called away to another location. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  That’s cutting it close.

  “Where are you?” Laney asked.

  “Still on the Mount.”

  “Get out of there.”

  “Not until everyone else is out.”

  “Mustafa,” Laney warned.

  “Would you save yourself?” Mustafa asked quietly.

  Laney closed her eyes. “Just get everyone out as fast as you can.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll help the security forces with the evacuation on this side.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You too.” And be careful.

  She pushed her way into the crowd, driving against the tide and hoping to save as many as she could.

  CHAPTER 69

  It took time, but the security forces did manage to get people moving faster, and Laney finally made it through the crowd to the Western Wall. A few devotees still stood at the Wall, their eyes downcast, ignoring the Israeli police who were trying to get them to leave.

  Yoni came running up.

  “Update?” Laney asked.

  Yoni’s eyes darted to the people at the Wall, and she could feel his frustration. “We’re having trouble getting a few people to leave. And we need to empty out the women’s prayer area, but there are no female security officers here right now.”

  Laney gritted her teeth. The Western Wall was separated into two parts, one for men only, and one for women only. And while she understood the religious reasons behind the separation, bombs really should outweigh those considerations. “I’ll take care of the women. You take care of the men.”

  Yoni was already heading for the Wall. “I’ll throw them over my shoulders if they don’t move.”

  Laney knew Yoni would do exactly that.

  She spent the next few minutes getting the women to leave. Luckily, they all understood the urgency and packed up quickly. When they were gone, she looked up at the Temple Mount and grabbed her radio. “Mustafa, report.”

  “We have about three hundred people left.”

  Laney closed her eyes. Damn it. “Where’s the bomb squad?”

  “I don’t know. They should have been here by now. Hold on.” Her radio went silent. A few seconds later, Mustafa was back. “There’s been a problem.”

  Laney stopped walking. “What?”

  “The
bomb squad has been ambushed. They’re not going to make it in time.”

  Laney felt her stomach bottom out. “Get out, Mustafa. Get out now.”

  “Not until everyone else is out.” He paused. “It has been my greatest honor to serve with you.”

  “Mustafa—”

  But he didn’t respond. And Laney knew he wouldn’t. He would stay until the very last second and try to save as many as he could.

  And he would die in the effort.

  Laney stared up at the Mount. If only I was up there. But she’d never be able to get through the crowds to reach the Mount. Not to mention she’d have to talk her way through security.

  There had to be something she could do. She couldn’t just stand here and watch this happen. The priestess couldn’t do this. The ramifications were going to be worldwide. And Laney needed to stop it from happening, no matter the cost.

  An idea formed in her mind. She knew it was crazy. She knew it was reckless. But it was also the only thing she could think of.

  She looked for Yoni, and spotted his familiar bald head amid the crowd. He had a man thrown over his shoulder, squirming as Yoni carted him to safety.

  Laney ran up to him, and Yoni handed the man to an Israeli officer. “The bomb squad’s not coming,” she said.

  Yoni’s face was set. “I heard.”

  “I need you to speak with the police here and have Mustafa speak with the ones on the other side.”

  “What should I tell them?”

  Laney started running for the Wall. “Tell them not to shoot me.”

  CHAPTER 70

  Laney stopped thirty feet from the Western Wall. Back when the wall was under Muslim control, there had been only a twelve-foot-wide alley to accommodate pilgrims coming to visit it. But when Israel took control of the Wall after the Six-Day War, they demolished the neighborhood around it to allow for more access. Now thousands of pilgrims could visit the site.

  Laney gazed upon the centuries of history contained in the wall: the rocks laid at the time of Herod, followed by the stones from the Umayyad era, and then finally the Ottoman era. And in between those stones were all the little pieces of paper with the prayers of thousands of people.

  Laney hoped that maybe, just maybe, all those prayers might send a little positive energy her way. Because God knows I’m going to need it.

  She grabbed her radio. “Mustafa?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to cordon off the tent. And did you get Yoni’s message about making sure no one shoots me?”

  “Yes. But why would they shoot you?”

  “I’m coming to you.”

  “You won’t make it. The people have packed the exits. You’ll never get through.”

  “I don’t plan on using the regular entrances. Be there in a minute.”

  Laney shut off her radio and dropped it on the ground. The less weight, the better.

  Taking a deep breath, she pictured a funnel in her mind and called forth the wind. She’d used a platform of wind before to lower herself to the ground; now she’d see if one could raise her up.

  And sure enough, she slowly began to rise. And then she picked up speed.

  She could feel the eyes of the people on the ground behind her. Some screamed and ran. Others froze in place, knelt, or made the sign of the cross. And when she reached the Mount, her appearance was greeted similarly. People stared in disbelief. They ran from her path, some stumbling and falling. She felt bad about the chaos she was causing, but it was better than the chaos a bomb would cause.

  Up ahead, she could see the dome and the mosque, and they were beautiful. But her focus was on the tent, and on the group of armed guards surrounding it. Please don’t shoot me, she begged silently.

  One of the guards let out a yell and took aim. But Mustafa sprinted over and pushed the barrel of the man’s gun down.

  A few seconds later, Laney dropped to the ground in front of them.

  Mustafa stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “You just flew.”

  “Sort of. It was more of a glide, really. How much time have we got?”

  “Just under five minutes.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Here.”

  Mustafa pulled her into the tent. The bomb was only a few bricks of C-4—not nearly enough to destroy the entirety of the Temple Mount, but even a small explosion at this site would be catastrophic, because of the inevitable response from the rest of the world. The bomb was encased in plastic, with the detonator clearly visible.

  “How much does that weigh?” Laney asked.

  “Maybe twenty pounds.”

  She knew C-4 was relatively stable, which meant they could move it without it blowing up. Theoretically. “I need a backpack.”

  One of the guards stepped forward and shrugged the pack off his back. He dumped the contents on the ground and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” Laney held the bag open toward Mustafa. “Put it in,” she said.

  Gently, he lifted the bomb and placed it inside the bag.

  Taking a breath, Laney strapped the pack to her back and stepped back out of the tent.

  Mustafa grabbed her arm, his eyes wide. “Laney, what are you doing?”

  “What needs to needs to be done.”

  And without another word, she took off into the sky.

  CHAPTER 71

  The Mediterranean Sea was to the west of the Temple Mount, and Laney could see its blue waters in the distance. As she flew closer, she could see the restaurants along the beaches of Tel Aviv. People were out sunbathing and enjoying themselves, completely oblivious to the bomb flying above their heads.

  Laney ignored the tremors in her arms and legs and the sweat that covered her. “Flying” like this required intense effort and concentration, and she was reaching the point of exhaustion. She just prayed that she’d have the bomb clear of people before she finally hit the wall.

  Unfortunately, as she passed over the beach she realized the entire area was dotted with boats. There was no clear place to set down. Damn it. In her head, she was counting down the seconds. Forty, thirty-nine…

  The ache in her shoulders increased, and for a moment the funnel of wind that held her aloft weakened. She dropped like a stone. But with her heart in her throat, she regained her concentration and her control. As quickly as she could, she turned to the east—where finally she found a stretch of open water.

  She slipped the backpack from her shoulders and let it drop into the water.

  She’d done it.

  But as she started to head back to shore, her control failed her again, and she dropped toward the water. She managed to summon enough wind to keep her from a free fall, but she was going down. And the whole time she counted.

  Six, five, four, three, two, one.

  A blast erupted under the surface. A plume of water jetted up into the sky, following by a wave of energy that coursed through the air. It was fortunate that Laney was so close to the water when it reached her, because it her with the force of a truck, and sent her flying head over heels, crashing into the ocean.

  CHAPTER 72

  Clutching the blanket around her, Laney stepped off the boat and onto the dock. She turned back to the family who had dragged her out of the water. “Thank you.”

  The two children, a boy and a girl around six or seven years old, grinned at her, but the parents still wore the same stunned expression they’d had ever since they’d fished her out.

  Laney started to hand the blanket back, but the mother shook her head. “No. Keep it.”

  “Thank you,” Laney said again.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the dock, and Laney turned to see five Israel police officers storming toward her. With a sigh, she gave the family a weary smile and headed for the officers. Holding the blanket with one hand, she held out her badge with the other. “United States Intelligence Officer.”

  The police were unmoved. Their weapons out, they stopped six feet from Laney. “Get down! Get down!”
>
  Laney lowered herself to the dock with a groan. Her back had not enjoyed the slap of the water, and she was so tired from her exertions that it was a struggle to keep her eyes open. She wondered if she’d even be able to stand back up again without assistance.

  Just as Laney’s knees hit the dock, a voice barked out across one of the officer’s radios, and the officers lowered their weapons. One of them stepped forward. “Agent McPhearson? “

  Laney nodded wearily. “That’s me.”

  He extended his hand to help her up. “We are to escort you to Hamateh HeArtzi.”

  Hamateh HeArtzi—the national headquarters of the Israeli police. It was on the western side of Mount Scopus and was home to a bunch of other government buildings, including the Ministry of Public Security.

  “Okay. Escort away,” Laney said, getting to her feet.

  CHAPTER 73

  Despite the sirens and the speed of the driver, Laney fell asleep on the ride over. Then, after being woken up, she got to spend the next hour being grilled by an Israeli police officer in a tiny interrogation room. So she was relieved when a knock at the door sounded and the Israeli officer was called out into the hallway.

  Laney could hear raised voices, and a moment later, a woman in her early sixties stepped into the room. A dark blue suit with a pale blue blouse brought out the blueness in her eyes, and her white hair was cut in a chic, no-nonsense blunt cut.

  Laney couldn’t hold back her surprise. It was Nancy Hannigan, the United States Secretary of State.

  Laney stood. “Secretary.”

  Nancy smiled and waved her back down. “Dr. McPhearson. It seems you’ve had a busy day.”

  “You could say that,” Laney said, settling back into her chair, not sure what else to say.

  “The officers tell me you keep saying you need to leave.”

  Laney tried to gauge where the career diplomat fell in all this. She knew the secretary had been in Saudi Arabia, so she must have hopped on the first plane over here. But what was her role? Was she here to help Laney and the SIA? Or to get in their way?