Newton’s Fire

Croke put on a yellow police bib before climbing into the front of the security truck. ‘Another quiet night in, eh, boss?’ said Manfredo, already at the wheel.

‘Another quiet night in.’

Morgenstern was on the cathedral steps. He’d be staying behind to supervise the re-plugging of the crypt floor before taking a chopper to USAF Lakenheath to meet the convoy. Croke waved to let him know they were ready, and to thank him for his help. Morgenstern relayed the signal to the driver of the nuclear container. Its lights came on. Its engine started to rumble. It began slowly to move, nudging its nose like a curious dog against the parting curtains of the canvas canopy then slipping out between them.

The security truck followed immediately behind. The sun had set, and they were greeted by a dazzling wildfire of camera flashes that made Croke blink despite their tinted windscreen. The first eruption died away; it grew diffuse. The spotlights of TV helicopters tracked them as a police escort formed around them. Blue lights flashed in synchrony as they forced a path through the crowds to Ludgate Hill, and sirens suddenly began to blare in a hideous concerted screech of noise. They picked up speed, though not too much. They were, after all, supposed to be carrying a dirty bomb.

All the feeder roads had been closed off by the police, so that there was no traffic to negotiate, no need to wait for lights. They reached the Limehouse Link and plunged down into its mouth. The white-tiled walls and compressed space reflected their sirens and lights, like some devilish nightclub. The tunnel was a mile long, with lay-bys for breakdowns every hundred yards or so. Two nondescript vans were waiting in the first. Manfredo braked sharply to drop off the back of the convoy and pull in beside them. A second security truck, indistinguishable from their own, was parked in the next lay-by along. It began to pull out the moment the last police outrider had passed, then accelerated to catch up with the convoy before it left the tunnel. In the nocturnal gloom, surrounded by this riot of noise and light, it would take a freakishly smart-eyed observer to notice the switch.

Croke opened the passenger door, jumped down, went around back. Working together, they all heaved the two smaller chests into the first van; the larger, along with Luke and Rachel, into the second. They locked up the security truck, covered it with a blue tarpaulin, then they divided into the two vans, Manfredo and Kieran taking the respective wheels. They drove on a short distance and pulled into another lay-by halfway along the tunnel. Then they waited.

It was another five minutes before the police opened their roadblocks and the first few headlights appeared in their rear-views. Manfredo and Kieran now pulled out well ahead of them, emerging unheralded and unobserved from the eastern mouth of the tunnel a minute later, before proceeding in a far more discreet convoy to City Airport.

THIRTY-NINE I

There were no benches in the back of the new van, so Luke and Rachel had to kneel on the bare metal floor as though in supplication to the Ark. It was gloomier here than in the truck too, with only a single, low-powered roof light. Luke raised an eyebrow at Rachel, about the only communication available with his mouth still taped. She raised both hers in response. The way the skin crinkled around her eyes made it look almost as though she were smiling. Her courage was astonishing to him, and gave him heart. He leaned forwards, looked around the van. Walters and Kieran were here, of course. And Jay, too, his eyes fixed on the chest. He noticed Luke looking his way and coloured a little, then he rose to his feet and crouched his way towards them.

‘Where the fuck are you going?’ growled Walters.

‘I want to speak to my friends,’ said Jay.

Walters laughed. ‘In your dreams, mate.’

‘I can still put a stop this mission,’ Jay told him. ‘Would your boss thank you if I did?’

To Luke’s surprise, Walters shrugged and let him by. He knelt beside Luke, picked at the tape over his mouth until he’d got enough up to strip it off. It was a day and a half since Luke had shaved, so that it felt like flame on his skin, but the pleasure of being able to breathe and talk made it more than worthwhile.

‘Do Rachel’s,’ he said.

Jay complied. The skin around her mouth was as red as smeared lipstick. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘You mustn’t be afraid,’ said Jay. ‘You’re both still under my protection.’

‘And what happens when that runs out?’

‘It won’t,’ said Jay. ‘Not before Israel. They can’t move the Ark without a Kohen, you see.’

Luke shook his head in disbelief. ‘You can’t honestly believe these people care about that.’

‘Maybe not. But my uncle does. How many times do I have to tell you? Tonight won’t happen without him. It can’t happen without him. Besides, I’m not just here to escort the Ark. I have a far more important job. Something no one else can do, not these people here, not even my uncle. Something that requires a true adept.’

‘And what’s that?’ asked Luke.

Jay dropped his voice. ‘I know how it works,’ he murmured.

‘How what works?’ frowned Rachel.

‘The Ark, of course.’

She shook her head. ‘What are you talking about?’

Despite the gloom, Jay’s skin seemed to flush. ‘Do you honestly think this is just some ancient chest of wood and gold we’ve found? Why would Ashmole and the others have needed Newton for that? It’s described in great detail in the Book of Exodus, after all. Any craftsman worth his salt could have knocked one up.’

‘Then why did they need him?’

‘Because the Ark is what the Bible says it is, Luke. It’s a weapon. And not just any weapon. It’s the original weapon of mass destruction.’

‘For God’s sake, Jay!’

‘Do you know what they called it, Luke?’ he asked. ‘They called it the Ark of the Strength and Glory of the Lord. They carried it seven times around Jericho and it brought its walls tumbling down.’

‘Jesus, Jay.’

‘And it wasn’t just cities it destroyed. It took out armies. The first Book of Samuel, chapter 6, verse 19. The Ark slew seventy nobles and fifty thousand commoners just for looking wrongly upon it. Fifty thousand. Or the second Book, where the Ark slipped and Uzzah tried to stop it from hitting the ground, and was killed instantly. Or Leviticus 10.’ Jay stood unsteadily, spread his feet and hands wide like a ham actor delivering his big speech. ‘“And Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took either of them his censer, and put fire therein, and put incense thereon, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not. And there went out fire from the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the Lord.”’ He knelt again, looked fiercely back and forth between Luke and Rachel. ‘Strange fire before the Lord. Strange fire. Doesn’t that remind you of anything?’

‘What the hell-’

‘Newton and the other alchemists were after sacred fire. Don’t you think that it’s at least possible that sacred fire and strange fire might be one and the same? That what they were really after was the secret of the Ark of the Covenant? A source of power that could bring down cities, that could destroy armies tens of thousands strong? A source of power that would change the world forever?’ He leaned towards Luke again, lowered his voice. ‘Do you know what alchemical tradition says about how Solomon built his temple? It says he cast spells that trapped djinns and other powerful spirits in magical amphorae, then forced them to do his bidding. Djinns trapped in jars. Strange fire in chests of wood and gold. A source of power to change the world.’ His expression was by now both manic and exultant. ‘Newton understood how it worked, Luke. And so do I. And tomorrow morning I’m going to prove it. Tomorrow morning I’m going to show the world