and drawing the shroud tight, the priests raised it up, then shuffled sideways until the overhead lights splashed over the gleaming gold lid.
“The Ark of the Covenant, Charlotte. Behold the world’s most coveted relic, the vessel of God’s essence.”
83
******
Charlotte’s mix of grief and rage was temporarily trumped by intrigue. What little she knew about the Ark of the Covenant began cycling through her thoughts—tales of an all-powerful weapon that directly channeled God’s wrath. An ancient lockbox for Moses’s Ten Commandments. Of course, there was also Charlton Heston and that whole Indiana Jones thing.
Nonetheless, the box’s beauty was awe inspiring—even more impressive than Spielberg’s best-guess Hollywood mock-up. The workmanship was incredible, particularly the fine detail that went into the unfolded feathered wings of the lid’s two lifelike angel figurines, which knelt with heads bowed. All the box’s edges were covered with ornate braiding. Could it really be the fabled Ark of the Covenant? That could certainly help to explain the strange energy coursing through the thing.
“I thought the Ark was lost,” Charlotte said.
“Only in the movies and in legends,” Cohen said. “Never lost, but hidden for a very, very long time.”
“By who?”
He smiled. “Me, my father, my grandfather—my ancestors. An unbroken chain of men who were the custodians of the Lord’s covenant.”
Studying him for a moment, she could see that he was serious—dead serious. “So why bring it out now? You’re just going to leave it here? In a Muslim shrine?”
He answered with a question. “See this stone beneath your feet?”
Charlotte glanced down at it. Surely it had significance or the Muslims wouldn’t have built around it. She couldn’t remember much about Islam, but she could recall from a college class she’d taken on world religions what this place was meant to commemorate. “Where Muhammad rose to heaven.”
This immediately made the rabbi’s face contort.
“That is a fabrication made up by zealous Muslim caliphs who’d have used any excuse to expand their empire,” he growled. “Now listen to what I say to you.” Pacing over to her, he began circling like an animal of prey. “This is the Foundation Stone,” he said, sweeping his hands out as if presenting it to her as a gift, “where God created the world and breathed life into Adam. It is the place where Abraham built an altar to sacrifice his own son to God. And it is where Jacob saw the gateway to God’s eternal domain—to the Light.”
“And what does the Ark have to do with all that? ” The question seemed to disappoint him.
“Everything,” he answered with utmost passion. “Around this very stone, Solomon erected his temple, as instructed by God. Where you now stand, the walls of its most sacred sanctuary would once have protected the Foundation Stone. And when Zion was first established as a nation, there was one thing that held it together.” He motioned to the Ark.
“A box ? ”
“The Ark isn’t just a box, Charlotte. Don’t test Him with blasphemy,” he warned, pointing heavenward. “The Ark is a direct link to God. In it, his covenant has been preserved, awaiting atonement . . . awaiting the Chosen One to bring its divine powers back to Zion. And everything you see here”—his broad hand gestures indicated not only the shrine, but everything around it—“will all be taken down. Not a stone unturned. Just as Jesus foretold. A new temple will rise up according to God’s plan—an earthly kingdom built to honor Him, so that all nations will worship in peace and harmony.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she scoffed. “But I don’t think the Muslims are going to appreciate that.”
“They don’t belong here,” he soberly replied. “Their shrine is a mockery of God. Their place is in Mecca—eight hundred miles from here. When God passes his judgment, these Muslims can return to their homeland, or they will perish.”
The sound of helicopters sweeping overhead drew the rabbi’s eyes up to the cupola. “Free her hands and bring her to me,” he ordered, moving to within a meter of the Ark.
The priests sliced away Charlotte’s bindings and brought her be- side him.
“Now, Charlotte,” he said with more urgency. “We are going to open the Ark. You and I. We’re going to restore the Testimony so that a new covenant will be made. Then it will be up to God to determine the fate of this place.” He spread his hands and rolled his eyes up to the cupola.
“It can’t be that easy.”
“Wait and see,” he promised.
84
******
From the shadows, Amit had watched as Cohen and his men hurried into the Dome of the Rock with the Ark and the female hostage, then pulled the doors closed.
He’d been tempted to pick off the remaining two gunmen with the Beretta. But the short-barreled pistol wasn’t suited for long-distance shooting. There was also the option of rushing them, trying to take them by surprise. But the gap was wide, the pistol was no match for a machine gun, and Amit was no small target. Not to mention that the choppers were quickly closing in. And if the Israelis confused him for the enemy, he’d be gunned down on sight.
“Amit!” a voice suddenly called.
He spun around. It was Enoch . . . coming up through the hole the rabbi’s men had burrowed beneath the Temple Mount.
“What took you so long?” Amit said with open arms.
Keeping a careful eye on the choppers zigzagging overhead, Enoch ran over to him. “What the hell is going on up here? Are we too late?”
