Rebecca’s commando force seized the Debra Damarro the way a child might seize a toy. Peter was dead, of course, but the shooter had been kept outside of the monastery, in the hills. Within the compound itself they found an old musket, but nothing capable of shooting live ammunition, much less a silenced sniper rifle. Whoever had shot Peter hadn’t done so in cooperation with these monks.
Rebecca walked into the church where her men had gathered six Ethiopian Orthodox monks, five servants, and two westerners dressed in khakis. The sound of her boots echoed through the domed room with each footfall. Above her, the faces of Christianity stared down in large paintings of red and yellow. Around her, three of her soldiers stood at the church’s entrances. Four others guarded the doors into the monastery, leaving the last two on the hill to make nine. And one dead. The monastery was sealed; its radio riddled with bullets. They had accomplished their first objective with relative ease.
She keyed her radio and called the post on the hill. “Report, Moshen.”
“All clear, sir. From here the valley looks asleep. Still no sign of the shooter.”
“Good. Keep glassing those hills. I’m sending Avraham out. Watch his back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rebecca faced Avraham. “Go out the back and circle around through the hills to the front side.”
He hesitated, eyes squinted.
“It’s what you do best, isn’t it?” Rebecca said. “We’re probably dealing with a lone shooter—someone who followed us. No other scenario makes sense. Our Palestinian friend from the roadblock, if I had to guess.”
Avraham grunted and was gone.
Rebecca approached the gathered prisoners. “Forgive our rude entrance, but you must know that we mean you no harm,” Rebecca said, looking at the western woman. This was Leiah, Caleb’s adoptive mother, if her information was right. And the western man, Jason, his father.
“You must be Leiah.”
“Yes.” The woman held her jaw fixed. Not exactly the kind to be easily frightened.
“I have no reason to hurt your son, Leiah. I only wish to talk to him.” Rebecca looked at the others. “If one of you is Caleb, it would spare us all a lot of misery if you stepped forward now.”
“What do you want with him?” Jason demanded.
“And you must be Jason,” Rebecca said, turning to him. “I’ll be blunt. We believe that Caleb can lead us to the Ark of the Covenant.”
They just stared at her.
“Yes, I know that Ethiopia is rich in its traditions about the Ark. You perhaps believe that it’s in Saint Mary’s Chapel at Axum, but we’ve come to think otherwise. We believe, in fact, that it’s hidden near here, and that Caleb knows its location.”
She let the revelation sink in. The dome seemed to amplify their breathing.
“That’s absurd,” Leiah finally said.
“Well, that’s the beauty of our mission, Leiah. One way or another we’ll find out just how absurd it is—with or without Caleb’s help. With it we can be precise. Without it we may be forced to tear down every wall in this monastery. But believe me when I say that we won’t leave this building without exhausting our search.”
Jason stepped forward. “You’re not understanding this, are you? There’s no Ark here. You could torture Caleb for a week and he wouldn’t tell you a thing because he doesn’t know anything. And you can tear down every wall in the Debra, but all you’ll find is rock and mortar. I should know—I helped build it.”
Professor Zakkai approached Jason. “You oversaw the monastery’s rebuilding after it was destroyed fifteen years ago, yes?”
“That’s what I just said.”
Zakkai smiled. “Yes . . . And what about the foundation? Did you build on top of the old foundation?”
“Yes, of course. But it was leveled—”
“And the foundation itself, did you leave it intact?”
Jason paused. “Parts of it. Yes.”
“So then you did not actually rebuild portions of the monastery that were underground, correct?”
“No, but it’s solid rock and concrete down there. There’s no hiding place for the Ark. The whole idea’s . . . crazy.”
Zakkai smiled again. “Evidently Father Matthew did not think it crazy. But I do understand your sentiment. Two weeks ago I myself would have thought it crazy. But today I might use a word more like brilliant, rather than crazy. Believe me, we’re not acting on a whim. The Ark has been hopelessly lost for twenty-six hundred years, and for the first time in modern history, tangible evidence about its location has surfaced. That evidence leads us to this monastery, my friend. I hardly think crazy is the word to use.”
Jason stood, silenced by Zakkai’s proclamation.
“As you can see,” Rebecca said, “we really need to speak to Caleb.”
“You’re Israeli soldiers,” Leiah said.
“Yes.”
“If you really believe the Ark is here, you’ll do anything to find it.”
“Yes.”
“Including torturing Caleb, if you must?”
Rebecca had shoved the possibility from her mind, but hearing it now she wondered how far they would go.
“We will do only what God wills.”
“And you think that maybe God would will you to force knowledge from Caleb? I’m sorry, but Caleb isn’t here.”
“I didn’t say that we would harm your son.”
“You didn’t say that you wouldn’t.”
Rebecca considered reassuring the woman that her son would not be harmed. That God was filled with love and kindness, not death and torture. But God had also lifted a sword for Israel’s sake before—many times in fact—and he would do it again. Leiah knew it as well; she was no idiot.
Rebecca turned to Zakkai. “Professor, we will begin a search of the lower tunnels immediately. Bring the dynamite.” They couldn’t actually use explosives, of course—the risk to the Ark would be far too high. She eyed the huddled group. “Please consider yourselves prisoners. You are confined to this room unless given express permission to leave it. We have guards about the compound and a post on the road. No one will be coming or going until we have finished our business. The more cooperative you are, the sooner we leave. It’s unfortunate—”
“Sir?” Michael’s voice squawked on the radio.
Rebecca keyed it quickly. “Go ahead.”
“It looks like one of them may have escaped. I’m in a tunnel that leads from the monastery. It surfaces through a storm door. There are fresh prints in the sand outside.”
Rebecca glanced at Leiah’s concerned eyes and knew immediately that the prints belonged to her son. So Caleb had escaped after all. She swore softly and turned her back to the others.
Under other circumstances her decision would be quick. Follow him. But the sniper changed the equation. Caleb had the advantage of knowing the hills and any pursuit would be preoccupied with covering its flank.
“Sir?”
Rebecca lifted the radio. “Pull back, Michael. We’ll give Avraham time to neutralize the sniper before following. Out.”
She strode to the archway that led down the hall towards the kitchen. “Let’s begin, Professor. We have work to do.”