“EAGLE SIX, I think I have our fourth canister…”
11:59 A.M.
The courtyard of the Masjid al-Aqsa
One minute before noon. One minute before the canisters within the masjid were to release their deadly bacteria into the air.
Farouk smiled, his arms at his sides. The bacteria he carried had been divided into three small pressurized canisters, wrapped around his mid-section along with five pounds of Semtex. This was the coup de grace, the final blow.
In the wake of his bombing, the victims would be transported to hospitals and emergency clinics around the city, spreading the plague with them. The Jewish doctors would be among the first to die, along with their patients. And that would only be the start of the epidemic. Only the start of the war…
The fires of jihad would envelop the world and the world would be remade in those refining fires. Remade in the image of Allah, the most glorified, the most high. His prophet, the Twelfth Imam, peace be upon him, ruling over all of mankind.
A beautiful vision. He heard the muezzin begin the call to prayer and spread out his prayer mat, falling to his knees toward Mecca. The mullahs commanded that every prayer be prayed as though it were one’s last, but Al-Farouk smiled as his forehead touched the fringe of the mat. This would be.
Allahu akbar. La illaha illa Allah. Muhammad rasul Allah…
Harry shoved a fresh magazine into the butt of the Colt before stepping out onto the courtyard, racking the slide to chamber a round. It was time to finish this. Tex followed him into the open air of the courtyard as the crowd rose to their feet after the completion of the first ra’akah, the two men separating as they moved in on their target.
Allaahumma salli 'alaa Muhammadin wa 'alaa ali Muhammadin. Kamaa sallaita 'alaa Ibraaheema wa 'alaa ali Ibraaheema. O Allah, bless our Muhammad and the people of Muhammad. As You have blessed Abraham and the people of Abraham.
Emotion had left him back there in the deserted stables of Solomon, along with remorse. Gone was everything except a terrible sense of purpose.
Innaka hameedun Majeed Alaahumma baarik 'ala Muhammadin wa 'alaa ali Muhammadin Kamaa baarakta 'alaa Ibraaheema wa 'alaa ali Ibraaheema Innaka hameedun Majeed. O Allah, be gracious unto Muhammad and the people of Muhammad. As You were gracious unto Abraham and the people of Abraham. Surely You are the Most Praiseworthy, the Most Glorious.
Harry saw the kheffiyeh once more as he moved into the crowd. He and Tex, the only ones upright now among a sea of kneeling men, advancing upon al-Farouk from the side. There was no help for it. Any delay was fatal.
As the second ra’akah finished, Farouk regained his feet. He would trigger the bomb at the end of the salah, as the worshippers recited “Peace be unto you”. A delicious irony. The peace of Allah came only through submission to the sword.
It was then that he saw the face. A face burned into his memory ever since BEHDIN had sent him the classified CIA personnel files, not four days before.
They were coming to stop him, but it would be futile.
The detonator was in his coat pocket, securely compressed in his fist. A dead man’s switch. The moment his fingers released their grip, the bomb would detonate. Nothing could stop the will of Allah. He smiled through the crowd, his eyes locking with the American’s in a look of mutual recognition…
Harry saw the look on Farouk’s face, realized what was about to happen. His pistol was in his hand, but the distance was too far, too many innocents in the way. No clear shot. No way to stop something that had become inevitable.
He raised his hand to his ear, his voice cold as ice.
“EAGLE SIX to LONGBOW, take him out.”
12:03 A.M.
The bell tower
The cross-hairs of the Barrett M98B centered on Farouk’s temple and Thomas took up the slack of the trigger, squeezing methodically. The match trigger broke cleanly at one and a half pounds of pressure and the rifle recoiled back into his shoulder as the shot echoed out over the Old City of Jerusalem. The city of peace…
The.338 Lapua Magnum bullet shot from the Barrett’s muzzle at a speed of 2,750 feet per second, striking its target almost before the sound had reached his ears.
Farouk’s head exploded like a ripe melon, blood and brains spraying over the surrounding worshipers as he went down. He never had a chance to react, no final words, no prayers for mercy. Quite literally, the 300-grain slug was the last thing to enter his mind.
He went down hard, legs flailing in their death throes against the stone of the courtyard. And there he lay, the nerveless fingers of his right hand tangled in the folds of his coat pocket, still pressed firmly against the detonator. The bomb didn’t go off.
The muezzin stopped in mid-prayer, the crowd reacting in frozen horror to sudden death in their midst. In those first few seconds, it must have appeared as though the victim had been struck down by lightning from on high.
Then pandemonium broke loose. Harry elbowed his way through the scattering throng, reaching Farouk’s body moments after his fall. Tex was already there, on his knees beside the fallen terrorist, working through the wires that encircled Farouk’s waist.
Behind them, Husayni’s security personnel began to spread out across the Haram al-Sharif, forming a rough perimeter.
A few yards to the left, el-Kas, the fountain of ablution, continued to gurgle peacefully, its purifying waters splashing and glistening in the sun. A sharp contrast to the pandemonium that surrounded it.
Harry looked around once more, his eyes alert for trouble, then he pulled his jacket open and shoved the.45 back into its holster.
Time to stand down. Reaching up, Harry activated his earpiece radio. “EAGLE SIX to LONGBOW, it’s time for you to leave. Exfil before they lock this city down. Standard E amp;E protocols apply.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, then Thomas’s voice came back through the speaker in Harry’s ear. “What happened to FULLBACK?”
“I killed him,” Harry responded quietly, looking across the courtyard. He disconnected the comm radio without another word, seeing Hamid’s face before his eyes. The way he had looked lying there. He heard Tex’s voice distantly and looked back at the big man. “What?”
“The bomb’s been disarmed.”
Harry ran a hand over his forehead, unable to find the words to express his feelings at that moment. His legs felt suddenly rubbery, weak as the adrenaline left his body.
Unusually, Tex was still talking. “I found this cellphone in his jacket. Doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the bomb, but Langley might want to take a look at it.”
Harry barely heard him. The threat had been neutralized…
12:10 P.M.
Mossad Headquarters
Tel Aviv-Yafo
“We’ve got a situation developing on the Temple Mount,” Shoham’s aide announced, appearing without warning in the doorway of his office.
The general looked up. “What’s going on?”
“A man in the crowd gathered for prayer at al-Aqsa mosque was shot by a sniper. The security forces of the Mufti have cordoned off the area and aren’t letting anyone through. Our personnel have been pushed back toward the Gate of the Chain.”
“The Lions of Jehovah,” Shoham snarled, a grimace contorting his features. “Blast it! Do they have any idea where the sniper is?”
“No, sir.”
“Get Laner on the phone ASAP.”
12:12 P.M.