Some of Ari's bullets went home. The man staggered and the rifle fired. A woman dressed in a gold evening gown was blown backward by the round. Ari fired again. He kept firing until the slide locked. The shooter jerked spasmodically as the rounds struck and fell back to the floor. Ari ejected the empty magazine and inserted another as he reached the rifleman. His agents were converging on the body. The shooter lay on the floor, blood pooling around him.
"Call the ambulances," Ari shouted. "Lock down the hotel. Now! And keep people away from this man."
He looked down at the body. How the hell did he get past security with that rifle? It was a question a lot of people would be asking. Another was who the shooter was and where he'd come from. Maybe he was Palestinian. Maybe he wasn't. That was part of the problem. Jews and Arabs often looked the same. They carried the same genes. They just didn't believe in the same things.
One of his agents came up to him.
"Ambulances on the way. The hotel's being sealed." He paused. "The Broadcasting Authority was live on the air."
Damn, Ari thought. This was a key election event. Practically everyone in the nation would have been watching on television. Weisner's stock would rise to the stratosphere. He'd be seen as a champion, an almost martyr to the security of Israel. The election had just gotten a lot closer.
Ari prodded the body with his toe. "Get this piece of crap to the morgue. Find out who he is. If he's Hezbollah or one of the other groups, there's going to be big trouble."
"What about Weisner?"
Ari looked at the stage. Joshua Weisner was gone, hustled away by his security detail.
"What about him?"
"Do you want to talk to him? He's backstage."
"No," Ari said. "I've heard enough talk from him for one day."
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
"Someone tried to assassinate Joshua Weisner last night," Harker said. "Israel is on high alert."
Nick was in his room at the George Hotel. The secure satellite connection was good.
"Is there ever a time when they aren't? Who did it?"
"A Palestinian. They've ID'd him as Hezbollah. There are large, organized demonstrations in Lebanon, people shooting into the air, flag burnings, lots of martyr rhetoric. You know the drill."
"How is the government reacting?"
"They have to appear strong. Prime Minister Lerner has been forced into a corner. If he doesn't retaliate, he'll be seen as weak right before an election. If he does retaliate, there'll be diplomatic outbursts, world condemnation, riots. The usual. It's a Catch-22. A lot depends on exactly what he does."
"What's your best guess?" Nick asked.
"Our satellites show massive preparations. Troops mobilizing, planes being fueled, the whole nine yards. Lerner is a conservative moderate and a staunch supporter of Israel's security. He and everyone else is fed up with Hezbollah. My guess is that he's going to invade Lebanon and go after them. He'd gain the backing of the extreme conservative elements right before the election. It means a blood bath, with lots of civilian casualties."
"That didn't work the last time. And Hezbollah is backed by Iran."
"What's different this time is that I think Lerner really means it."
"Hezbollah is backed by Iran."
"That's a problem. I don't think the Mullahs will stand by and let their puppets be taken out of the game."
"Another war?"
"Yes. I hope I'm wrong, but my intuition says otherwise."
Nick sighed. Elizabeth's intuition was usually right on.
"What's your operational status?" Harker asked.
"There's a bright moon tonight, but weather says considerable cloud cover. We'll get in through the river gate, open up that cave and see what we find. There's minimum security at the castle. They don't need it. Once they lock up for the night, it's pretty hard to get in. That was the idea when they built it 900 years ago and nothing has changed. Won't be much of a problem for us, though."
"How's Lev working out?"
"Nothing's happened yet. I expect he'll be fine."
"The problems at home may distract him."
"I'll deal with it."
"All right, Nick. Brief me as soon as you know what's in that cave."
"Roger that."
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The river was calm and black and smelled of green weeds and rushes and mud. A chorus of frogs croaked in chaotic rhythm in the night. The sky was clouded over, the moon a dull glow when it could be seen at all. It was a night that almost defined the words black ops.
They'd found a wide, flat-bottomed skiff, big enough to hold them and anything they might discover in the castle. They'd changed into black clothes. Ronnie carried a small pack with the things they needed.
Nick worked the oars, breaking the surface of the river with quiet splashes. Selena watched the towering castle wall draw closer, a darker shape in the blackness of the night.
This is real, she thought. I'm about to sneak into a 12th Century castle in Britain to look for the Ark of the Covenant. She felt the adrenaline rush begin, the excitement.
The boat grounded with a soft scrape at the bottom of the slope below Wogan Cavern. They scrambled out. Nick pulled the skiff up out of the water. They climbed up to the gate leading into the cave and Ronnie took out his pouch of tricks. He bent to the lock. A minute later the gate swung open, the hinges making a brief, harsh noise in the night.
Inside the cavern, Nick turned on his light. The LEDs cast an intense, blue-white beam on the limestone walls. They glistened in the cold light. The cavern seemed vast in the darkness. It was silent except for the sound of their breathing and a slow drip of water.
They went to the spot they'd found the day before. Ronnie took a spray can from his pack.
"Better move back," he said. "Makes a lot of fumes."
Ronnie sprayed the contents of the can back and forth across the concealed opening and stepped away. Thick, bitter smoke roiled off the surface. After five minutes, the reaction stopped.
"Now what?" Lev said.
For answer, Ronnie stepped forward. He kicked the wall. It fell inward, revealing a dark opening. A whiff of old, stale air pushed past them.
"Technology is a wonderful thing," he said. "Better living through chemistry."
"We don't have anything like that," Lev said. There was admiration in his voice.
They bent low to enter. Inside, the roof was high enough to stand. Nick moved his light back and forth. The cave was about fifteen feet long and as wide again. Something gleamed white in the back corner. Nick played his light over it. It was a skeleton, wearing a leather tunic and boots and fragments of clothing. A long sword lay at its side. The skull had been cleaved open by a savage blow. The rest of the cave was empty except for rubble on the floor.
"Damn." Nick swore under his breath.
Selena felt a wave of disappointment. There was no Ark. No Templar treasure. Just old bones and debris.
"I wonder what happened to this guy?" Ronnie walked over to the bones. He picked up the sword, swung it across, back again. The blade was over three feet long. It made a thick, deadly sound as it cut through the air.
"Nasty. I wouldn't want to get cut with one of these."
"Can I see that, Ronnie?"
He handed the sword to Selena. She examined the hilt.
"This isn't a 13th Century sword," she said. "Look at the hilt. It's a basket hilt. See the rounded guard and the way the hilt is pierced and sculpted? The earlier swords had wide, heavy blades meant for slashing. This one is narrow, made to thrust. This is from the 17th Century, maybe around the time of Cromwell. It's the right style."