All those skeletons, he thought.
He remembered the first time he’d seen the massive bone piles. He’d tried to imagine how gruesome it must have been when the festering bodies had first been interred in that cave, so many millennia ago. Pools of rancid blood. The stench of decaying flesh. Insects and vermin feasting on the rotting corpses.
He vividly recalled the skin-crawling sensation he’d felt upon entering that chamber — an unsettling energy which could only come from another realm where the souls didn’t rest. It was the first time he’d come to terms with the idea that true evil — a malevolent force — had been trapped beneath that mountain.
Not just eviclass="underline" a weapon.
This subterranean mass grave was even more shocking than the excavated pits unearthed in Iraq’s southern deserts. Stokes had no doubt that the marines, and particularly the Kurdish interpreter who Crawford had said was assisting the mercenaries, would attribute the atrocity to Saddam’s secret police. But they’d be sadly mistaken.
On another panel, Stokes honed in on the distraught Arabs, slowly making their way deeper into the tunnel and still determined to find a way out. He shook his head in amusement.
The Arabs were very close to the cave’s most secret chamber now. Too close. And Stokes was concerned that if they were to stumble upon the installation that was the heart of the operation, they might try to destroy his precious handiwork.
‘It is time,’ a voice suddenly called out to him.
Startled, Stokes sat bolt upright and scanned the room.
‘Let loose the fury,’ the voice calmly commanded.
‘Yes …’ Stokes said, still hoping the Lord would reveal His countenance. The voice was all around him. It even seemed to permeate his skull. How would God eventually manifest Himself? ‘I understand.’
Composing himself, Stokes brought up a new window on his monitor to access the cave’s command interface module.
‘Let loose the fury,’ he said to himself.
He stared at the seven icons blinking ‘SEALED’. It was time to slay the Hydra. Time to eliminate the Middle East threat. For too long, humankind had interfered with the natural order of things. The balance God intended needed to be restored — the checks and balances that truly determined history’s winners and losers.
With trembling fingers, he clicked each icon in turn, and the flashing indicators flipped from red to green; ‘SEALED’ now changed to read ‘OPEN’. When the password box came up to confirm the changes, he paused.
Finally the appointed hour had arrived. The culmination of years of research and sweat. After taking a few seconds to savour the moment, he whispered, ‘When the lamb had opened the first of the seven seals, I heard the first of the four beasts say with a thundering voice, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a white horse; and he that sat on him had a bow: and there was given unto him a crown, and he departed as conqueror and to conquest.’
Pastor Randall Stokes slowly typed in the password — A-R-M-A-G-E-D-D-O-N — then entered it again to authorize the command.
36
The black GMC Yukon zipped through the Callahan Tunnel, making Brooke Thompson’s pulse accelerate. Her mind was flashing a fireworks display of images from the earlier car chase. Tunnels had never bothered her before. But they did now. She imagined the SUV careering into the tight walls — envisioned a ceiling collapse that brought the harbour flooding in around her. Crossing her arms over her stomach and squeezing tight, she glanced over at Flaherty, seated to her left in the rear passenger seat. He was staring through the SUV’s bulletproof glass, entranced by the streaming lights high up on the tunnel wall.
Agent Flaherty had enough on his mind to ignore irrational fears, Brooke thought. In fact, it had to be rational fears that plagued his thoughts. Prior to leaving the office, he’d spent twenty minutes in a closed-door session with his firecracker of a boss. He’d been highly contemplative ever since.
Feeling her anxiety ballooning into panic, Brooke couldn’t help but reach over and grab his right hand. He turned, unsure of her intention, but quickly realized by her clammy complexion that she needed some consoling. ‘Sorry, but I’m kind of freaking out,’ she said, her fingers clamping tight around his palm.
‘It’s all right,’ he said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’m feeling it too. Don’t know if I’ll ever look at a tunnel the same way again either.’ He placed his other hand on top of hers.
She nodded and released a long breath to calm her nerves. Focusing on the back of the driver’s huge, shaved head somehow calmed her. The guy was like a caricature — a mountain of muscle. Even his ears seemed pumped up. The handgun strapped under the man’s arm, however, implied that his duties involved more than simply playing chauffeur.
‘I still don’t think you should be coming with me,’ Flaherty said. ‘I can’t guarantee your safety. I don’t want to be responsible for—’
‘Tommy, if you have a waiver form, I’ll sign it,’ Brooke said. ‘Otherwise, let it go. You need me and you know it. And your boss seems to be okay with it too.’
Lillian had indeed given him the green light to bring Brooke along. Logically, it made sense, since Brooke was the only person who’d actually met the conspirators face to face, and her visual confirmation could certainly expedite matters. ‘With the high stakes involved, we need to be certain about this, Tommy. Any slip-ups could cost us dearly,’ Lillian had said.
‘Are you always this stubborn?’
Brooke thought about it for a moment. ‘Pretty much.’ She leaned to the middle, looked forward out the windshield. ‘Could this tunnel be any longer?’ she pleaded, squeezing Flaherty’s hand even tighter.
Flaherty chuckled.
They sat there holding hands for a few seconds until Flaherty asked, ‘You ever been to Vegas?’
‘Once … two years ago. The Archaeological Institute of America had its convention at Caesar’s Palace. Hard to forget, because they didn’t realize that there was a swingers’ convention going on in the adjacent ballroom.’
‘So you got to kill two birds with one stone?’
‘Very funny,’ she said, scrunching her face. ‘I’m not that kind of girl. How about you? Are you a Las Vegas guy? “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”, and all that?’
‘Nah,’ he said, with no elaboration, and shifted his eyes to the floor.
She gave him an incredulous look. ‘I’m not buying it. Remember, I’ve seen the way you drive. You’re a guy who likes to take chances.’
He sighed. ‘Not to be a downer, but my dad’s a wicked gambler. When I was a kid, he lost a year’s salary in one night at a poker table. Caused a lot of heartache for my ma. Didn’t stop with him, either. My oldest brother Jimmy lives by the ponies. And Chris, the middle child … he’d wager the weather if he could. Seems the Flahertys are genetically predisposed to bad bets. Seen enough to know that I shouldn’t even buy a lottery ticket.’
‘Then you should be happy I’m coming with you,’ she replied delicately. ‘I’ll keep you away from the casinos.’
He smiled. ‘I doubt there’ll be any slot machines where we’re going.’
Up ahead Brooke spotted an emerging circle of dull daylight at the end of the tunnel. She relinquished her grip on Tommy and pulled her hand back. Their destination returned to the forefront of her thoughts. ‘What kind of evangelical preacher builds a humongous church in Las Vegas, anyway?’
Flaherty shrugged. ‘Actually, it’s a pretty smart idea. In Sin City there are plenty of misguided sheep to herd.’
‘I still can’t believe a preacher is involved in all this. It’s so absurd.’