from his earlier injury, Boyd Braxton positioned himself behind the steering wheel of the six-by-six convoy truck.
‘“Vengeance
‘No, sir. Can’t say that I do.’
‘It means “submit”.’
As always happened when he pondered the Muslim faith, Stan felt a hot rage surge up from the base of his spine, his temples pounding with the force of his hatred.
‘As God is my witness, I will never be conquered by those people. Never.’
‘I hear ya, sir!’ Braxton banged his fist against the steering wheel. ‘We’ll teach those ragheads a lesson! Every last one of ’em!’
Pleased with his subordinate’s enthusiasm, the Lord always looking with favour upon those who executed their duty with a glad heart, Stan slammed shut the passenger door. In the back of the truck nine of his men were present and accounted for. The Ark would be well guarded. To a man, they would unflinchingly lay down their lives to protect the holy relic. Although it was doubtful that they would encounter any resistance. The Englishman had admitted that British intelligence was ignorant of their plans. And according to the yacht’s captain, the voyage from Haifa had been uneventful.
Soon, in God’s name, he would prevail. Then, on the battlefields of that most holy of lands, he would triumph. The Ark of the Covenant was the key to victory. As it had been in the days of old when it was used to bring down the walls of mighty Jericho. ‘And so it shall come to pass,’ the prophecies of Ezekiel the road map to success.
Nothing could stop him. Not the peaceniks. Not the left-wing secularists who railed against religion. Not the passive wusses at the UN. Not even the stalwart Englishman who had proved such a formidable foe.
Respect for one’s enemy, however, only went so far. Stan knew that there was a special hell for men like C?dmon Aisquith and his degenerate harlot. Soon they would discover that God’s fire was inextinguishable. The flames of hell burning eternally bright.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw a shadow approach. The shadow belonged to Rostov, his communications expert. He rolled down the window.
‘What is it?’
An anxious glint in his eyes, the other man said, ‘We’ve got a problem, sir. Gallagher isn’t answering his cell.’
The muscles in Stan’s belly tightened. He took a deep breath, striving for a calm he didn’t feel.
As he silently begged for divine guidance, he saw in his mind’s eye the Tree of Life, not seen since the expulsion from Eden, blossoming atop the Temple Mount.
Blessed with that calming vision, he turned to his communications expert. ‘Get in the back.’ Then to his trusted subordinate. ‘We’re gonna find ’em and run ’em down.’
‘Yes, sir!’
91
Ignoring the vibrating mobile phone clipped to his waistband, C?dmon urged Edie to keep moving, the convoy truck no more than thirty yards ahead of them.
‘Maybe you should answer it,’ Edie whispered, clearly unnerved by the call. ‘Otherwise they’ll know something’s up.’
Aware that the end result would be the same regardless of whether he answered the mobile or not, C?dmon made no reply as they continued to creep along at a rapid but cautious pace. A few moments later they were outside the watchtower, the wooden door wide open. Time in short supply, C?dmon yanked Edie into the building’s protective shadow, the two of them huddling together. He peered out, verifying that the truck was still parked on the other side of the tower.
‘I want you to go inside and, if at all possible, lock yourself into a room. I then want you to use Gallagher’s mobile to ring the authorities. Understood?’ When she nodded, he handed her the now silent phone. ‘Tell them you’re an American tourist and that you were abducted from your hotel room. Make no mention of the Ark of the Covenant.’
‘What about you?’
‘I am off to slay the dragon.’ As he spoke, he checked the clip on the Glock automatic. Sixteen rounds. He only needed three. One to blow out a tyre on the truck. One to take out Stanford MacFarlane. And a third bullet to fell the behemoth.
Hit those three, chaos would ensue and all MacFarlane’s well-laid plans would come to a halt.
He motioned to the door of the tower. ‘In you go.’
‘But —’
‘No buts,’ he interjected, placing a hand over her mouth. With the other hand, he gently pushed her through the open doorway. Then, hoping she would heed his orders, he pulled the door shut.
His right arm cocked at the elbow, the Glock clutched in his hand, C?dmon made his way around the perimeter of the tower, his plan to approach the truck from the front, enabling him to take out the cab passenger, the driver and one of the front tyres. In that order. And in quick succession. He assumed that, as before, Braxton would be driving with the colonel next to him.
The plan was brazen. Reckless even. But it was the only option left to him. Under no circumstances could he permit MacFarlane to leave Malta alive. Too much was at stake. Too many lives were in the balance.
Suppressing his fear, he crept forward. The truck was no more than twenty yards away, just beyond the curve of the building.
Suddenly, he heard the roar of an engine. The truck was on the move. He fought the instinctive urge to fire his weapon.
He needed a clean shot. If he botched it, all would be lost.
Knowing he had only seconds, he charged out of the shadows, coming at the truck from an angle to avoid the headlights. Arms locked in a firing position, he found his first target — Stanford MacFarlane — took aim and pulled the trigger.
‘Bollocks!’ The Glock had jammed. He pulled back the slide on the top of the pistol.
The clatter of machine-gun fire erupted all around him.
Caught in a corona of bullets, he quickly chambered a round, shock and anger hitting him in equal measure.
A heartbeat later shock mutated into fear as he saw a shaky shaft of green light hit the truck’s windscreen.
92
‘Jesusfuckingchrist! I can’t see!’ Boyd Braxton yelled, raising his arms to stave off the blinding green beam. ‘I can’t see a damn —’
The truck swerved. Jerking to the right. Then the left. It began to lose speed.
‘Put your foot on the gas!’ Stan yelled over the gunny’s foul-mouthed screams. ‘We
Averting his head from the burning light, Stan leaned over Braxton and grabbed the steering wheel, knowing
