The enemy rises up on the rooftops and begins firing, like always. The market stalls turn into a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings, like always.
A child runs at him from one of the houses, yelling that God is Great. He can't be more than ten or eleven years old. The boy cocks his arm back and throws the grenade. Nick's rifle kicks back in a quick 3 round burst and the child's face disappears in a plume of blood. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion…everything goes white…
"Nick!"
Selena's voice woke him. They were in a hotel in Paris. He sat upright, heart pounding as if it would smash through his ribs. He wiped his hand across his face, rubbed his eyes. The dreams had come back, more frequent since the attack on the old Project building. Always some variation of the same dream, reliving the day he'd almost died. The day he'd shot a child.
Selena stood naked by the side of the bed. She didn't look happy.
"Why are you out of bed?"
"You hit me in your sleep, thrashing around. I got out of the way."
"Oh, hell. I'm sorry."
"You have to do something about this. It's getting worse. We've talked about it before. You have to see someone."
Nick was silent.
"I know you don't want to talk with a therapist. But you have to do it. For both of us. You have to see someone."
"All right. I'll think about it."
She sat down on the bed. "Promise me, Nick. Promise you'll do it."
"I said I'd think about it."
"Promise you'll do it."
There was something unspoken in her voice, a warning.
"Okay," he said. "I'll do it. After we get back." He looked at the clock. "It's too early to get up," he said.
She moved next to him. "We don't need to get up."
She touched his face, ran her fingers over the stubble.
"I don't think I can go back to sleep," he said.
"We don't have to sleep."
Selena moved her hand down his side, feeling the old scars, the legacy of war written on his body.
"Besides," she said, "if you're not asleep, I don't have to duck."
He looked into her eyes, felt the smooth curve of her hip.
Later, they slept.
CHAPTER TEN
Nick and Selena took an Air France flight from Paris to Amman in Jordan, rented a Land Rover at the airport and drove to the American embassy. Harker had arranged for their guns to be forwarded from the embassy in Paris. It was a handy use for the diplomatic pouch.
They picked up the guns and went to their hotel. It was situated on the highest hill in Amman, looking out over the city in a spectacular view. Tall, Romanesque columns scaled the facade. A row of palms marched along the street in front of the building. The lobby featured a huge central display of purple and white flowers. It was the kind of hotel where everything was marble and polished wood, where you felt like you were worth a million. In Selena's case, she was. Her uncle's death two years before had left her a rich woman.
The next day they set off for Mount Nebo, 40 kilometers south of Amman. The road south was modern blacktop, busy with heavy truck traffic. The Land Rover ran smoothly over the pavement.
The day was hot and clear. Once out of the city, the desert stretched in all directions, a harsh landscape of sand and rock that sent shimmering heat ripples into the air under the brilliant sun. Selena wore a loose blue scarf around her neck and a white cotton blouse that set off her tan. There was a brown leather pouch on her belt. A calf-length cotton skirt and hiking boots completed the outfit. The gun was tucked away in the pouch. Her violet eyes were hidden behind dark brown sunglasses. Wind from the open window ruffled her hair.
Nick had opted for jeans, a short-sleeved shirt and a light jacket to conceal his holster. He wore Ray-Bans against the relentless light. The air smelled of the desert, dry and clean. It probably smelled like this when Moses was here, he thought.
"We're right in the heart of the Old Testament," Selena said. "Moses is supposed to be buried where we're going, on Mount Nebo. This whole area was fought over for centuries. The Israelites, the Moabites, the Ammonites, the Byzantines, the Nabateans."
"You wonder why," Nick said. "Who would want it? This is a desolate place. Look at it. Sand, rock, sun. Hell, the nearest water is the Dead Sea. Reminds me of parts of Utah or Nevada."
"You won't find anything like Las Vegas here," she said.
They turned west at Madaba, a town famous for elaborate Byzantine mosaics. From there it was another ten kilometers to Mount Nebo. The road leading up the mountain was paved in a herring bone pattern of gray-blue and light stone, bordered by stone curbing and tall Eucalyptus trees on both sides.
They had come to one of the most famous places in the Bible.
They parked and walked the rest of the way to the top, where a chapel had been built in the 4th Century CE to commemorate the death of Moses. A Byzantine church had followed two hundred years later. Now it was a Franciscan monastery, a focal point of anger for the Muslim extremists. A shelter had been erected over the ruins of the old church to form the new Memorial Chapel.
A low wall of limestone blocks marked the edge of the summit. A tall, modern sculpture of Moses' staff rose like a silent sentinel into the sky. Before them stretched the desert battleground of the three great Western religions.
The Holy Land.
"Hell of a view," Nick said. "You can see all the way to Jerusalem from here."
"Is that all you can say?" she said. "A hell of a view?" She shook her head.
"What do you expect me to say? All I know is that a lot of people died here for thousands of years because they had different names for God. They're still dying. It's as senseless now as it was back then."
Selena changed the subject. She pointed to the left at a large body of water. "That's the Dead Sea. And over there you can just make out the West Bank of the Jordan."
The sun beat down on them, hot and searing. "It does give you a sense of history," Nick said. "Imagine walking through that wasteland thousands of years ago. It must have been tough."
"Let's look inside the church."
They walked to the building. Nick stopped and bent down to tie his boot. "Don't look around. We're being followed. There's a man wearing a yellow shirt and a ball cap behind us. He was at the airport and I saw him again at the hotel."
"He could be a tourist," she said. "We're not the only ones that want to come here."
"Maybe."
They stepped out of the bright sun into the cool shade of the chapel. It was open on the sides. The limestone ruins and broken columns of the original building were covered by a wide, modern roof. A dozen flat wooden benches were placed on each side of a mosaic tile walkway decorated with repeating rows of peacocks. Sunlight streamed through windows in the roof, making the stones glow with soft color. Broken columns lined the side of the aisle.
"This is beautiful," Nick said.
Selena was surprised. She hadn't expected him to say that.
"Yes, it is."
"There's something about the light on the stone that makes this place feel peaceful."
She touched his arm. It was a good feeling, something they felt together. Nick smiled.
At the far end was a simple altar made of stone. An ancient mosaic cross was set into the wall above it, a symmetrical design of interweaving loops. To the right of the altar was another area with a mosaic floor. A sign said it had been laid down in the 6th Century.
The tile floor showed two men with animals on ropes. One man led an ostrich, the other a zebra and a spotted camel. Above the men was a shepherd under some trees, with a goat and sheep. At the top of the mosaic, another shepherd fought a lioness and a soldier hunted a lion.