'The alignments of the stars on the celestial globe don't mirror the landmarks on the terrestrial globe,' she told him. 'For example, there's no star on the celestial globe that mirrors Jerusalem.'
'Not yet,' Gellar told her with a hint of a smile. 'That's why the third globe is necessary. The Hebrew prophets believed that God used the planets to give them a sign that something important was about to happen. Look closely at this globe, and you'll notice that we're in the midst of an extraordinary alignment of two symmetrical triangles formed in the sky by six planets. Do you recognize this alignment?'
'Oh my God,' said Serena, seeing it clearly. 'It's the Star of David.'
'This is the star you were looking for over Jerusalem, Sister Serghetti,' Gellar told her. 'It's not a comet or a nova or a so-called star of Bethlehem. This star is the conjunction of planets that the prophet Jeremiah predicted would appear in these last days at the coming of the Messiah. It is this star to which we will align the Third Temple.'
The exit door opened, and Gellar pointed the way out to her. 'Thank you for returning the globes to the people of Israel, Sister Serghetti. I will take good care of them.'
She stepped out of the chamber, and as soon as it closed behind her, she knew there was no turning back. A minute later, she climbed into the G55 SUV outside.
'General Gellar is Uriel,' she told Benito, whose face in the mirror registered shock. 'The globes are going to the Temple Mount. Surely this means war. Gellar thinks he's getting a new Jerusalem. But the Alignment is clearly betting on a new Crusade that will see them picking up all the oil and whatever else is left of the Middle East. A new Roman Empire. And that is in nobody's interest.'
41
Conrad waited behind three cars in line at the Liberty Gate to Old Town. Two armored trucks flanked the gate while Greek Evzones in tights with submachine guns inspected every vehicle entering the fortress.
He looked at his watch: it was already three-fifteen. By now Serena had probably delivered the globes, blowing his chance to see them. Worse, he had been seen by that Dei disciple of hers, who may have warned her to exit through a different gate.
A soldier waved him up to the gate, and he handed over his license and registration slip. While the soldier ran them through a card reader, a police officer asked him questions. 'Where are you going?'
'Church of St. John,' Conrad lied, referring to the church across the Street of Knights from the Palace of the Grandmaster. 'I'm delivering this to the icon exhibit.' He glanced over his shoulder at the globe strapped precariously to the back of his seat.
'You call that an icon?' the officer said gruffly.
Conrad recovered quickly and smiled. 'A replica of an icon.'
The officer was still grim. 'I call that an accident if it fell off your bike onto the road.'
'But it didn't,' Conrad said when the soldier came back with his ID.
'Firat Kayda?' the soldier said as four others circled him with their machine guns.
'Yes,' Conrad said quietly.
'You're under arrest.'
Conrad thought quickly as he saw a car approaching from the opposite side of the gate. 'I didn't mean to steal it,' he said, reaching back to the icon as he heard more than one bolt click. 'I just wanted to bring it back.'
He pulled the string, and the icon fell to the ground and cracked open. 'Oh no!' he said.
While all eyes were diverted to the ground for a moment, he twisted the accelerator and burst through the open gate and took a sharp left behind the tower.
There were shouts and the squeal of brakes and then a delayed spray of bullets that raked the tower. Conrad hit the straightaway down the Street of Knights but saw trouble up ahead: a black S-class Mercedes sedan coming his way, leaving him little room to maneuver on either side. He'd have to cut down one of the two hundred narrow cobblestone streets and lose the police without getting lost himself.
But then he saw a second car-a silver Mercedes G-class SUV-turning out from a gate at the Palace of the Grandmaster and onto the street toward him. As it turned, he saw her in the backseat.
Serena!
Sirens blared behind him, and he glanced at his mirror to see the lights of a police car flashing from behind.
He looked back up the Street of Knights in time to swerve away from the oncoming black Mercedes, taking out the driver's-side mirror as he whooshed by.
Dead ahead was the silver Mercedes SUV. Conrad could glimpse Benito's astonished face as it passed a parked Peugeot in front of the Inn of Provence. Everything seemed to go slow-motion as Conrad considered the police behind him, the silver Mercedes ahead of him, and the parked Peugeot.
It didn't belong there.
And before he could warn Benito, the Peugeot exploded in a ball of fire and blew the Mercedes apart.
'Serena!' he shouted before the shock wave sent him flying through the air.
42
Serena found herself on her hands and knees on the street. The SUV had been split open. She tried to get up but couldn't. As she crouched there, numb from shock, she could see Benito barely moving on the other side of the burning wreck.
'Oh my God. Benito!'
She crawled on all fours toward him. Half his face was burned off, but his arm was moving. Then she saw his insides spilling out. 'Oh God.' She reached toward him but was still several feet away.
Benito knew he was dying and struggled for breath. 'Do not be afraid, signorina, for he will take care of you now.'
Just then a shadow fell across Benito's face, and Serena looked up to see a twisted face with an eyepatch standing over her. She screamed as the man pointed a gun at her.
'Last rites,' he said in a Russian accent, and pulled the trigger.
She heard the shot but felt nothing. The assassin fell facedown in front of her. She stared in shock and heard her name.
'Serena!'
It was Conrad driving up through the smoke on a motorcycle, like a demon from hell. Behind him were the police, chasing him like the Furies.
He braked to a halt and pulled her up to her feet. 'Come on.'
She couldn't leave Benito. 'I can't.'
'Hurry,' Conrad said, and dragged her by the arms and plopped her on the back of his bike. He slid in front of her and took her slack arms and wrapped them around his waist. 'Please, Serena, hold on.'
'I told you not to come, Conrad,' she said breathlessly, bitterly, and started crying. 'I told you.'
'This was set up long before I got here, Serena, long before you got here.' He kick-started the bike, and she could feel it roar to life beneath them. He was going to carry her away, and her work wasn't done yet.
'The council meeting tonight. I have to stay.'
'I'm sorry, Serena,' she heard him say as the rear tire squealed and they drove off.
43
