Sacred Stone

“A couple of weeks ago, Hickman sent a separate team to Israel to wire the Dome of the Rock with video cameras and explosives. If he is able to recover the stone of Abraham, it looks like he plans to take it to Jerusalem and destroy it in the explosion, then display the video worldwide.”

“What about the operations in Saudi Arabia?” Cabrillo asked. “Did he disclose anything about that?”

“Apparently he knew nothing. Hickman must have compartmentalized that and used a different group.”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Cabrillo said.

“What is it?”

“Pull up the service records of all the United States military personnel in Qatar.”

“What for?”

“I need every Muslim we have,” Cabrillo said.

“Who will lead them in Mecca?”

“Don’t worry,” Cabrillo said, “I have just the man.”

THE OREGON WAS just entering the Strait of Gibraltar when Hanley hung up the telephone after talking to Cabrillo. He reached for the intercom button and pressed it down.

“Kasim and Adams to the control room, immediately,” he said. “Kasim and Adams to the control room, immediately.”

As he waited for the men to arrive, he turned to Stone. “Change the course to Israel, the nearest spot offshore of Jerusalem you can find.”

Stone pulled a map up on the monitor. The port of Ashdod was nearest. He entered the commands and the ship control program reset itself. Just then Adams walked into the control room.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“I need you to prepare the helicopter to drop off Kasim in Tangier, Morocco.”

“Then where do you want me to go?” Adams asked.

“Refuel and fly back out to the Oregon.”

“I’ll get on it right now,” Adams said and walked out.

A few minutes later Kasim walked into the room.

“Are you up for leading an operation?” Hanley asked.

“Yes, sir,” Kasim said, smiling.

“Only Cabrillo has access to the personnel files,” Hanley said, “but he told me you’re a Muslim. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hanley said. “We have the Challenger on the way from Qatar to Morocco. We need you to lead a team into Mecca.”

“What’s the purpose, sir?” Kasim asked.

“You,” Hanley said slowly, “are going to save Islam’s holiest sites.”

“It would be an honor, sir,” Kasim said.

48

HICKMAN HAD NO trepidations about being a non-Muslim inside Mecca.

He hated the Islamic religion and all it stood for. After meeting with the dozen Indian nationals in the house in Riyadh at 4 P.M. and briefing them, they set out on the ten-hour drive to Mecca and the Kaaba in a stolen panel van marked with Islamic writing that read “Kingdom Cleaning” on the side. They were dressed in long white flowing garments and each had a broom, bucket, putty knife and brushes.

Hickman had paid a forger to write a letter in Arabic explaining that they were here to remove any chewing gum found on the grounds. Inside a bright yellow plastic janitor’s cart, behind a white canvas curtain, Hickman had placed both the meteorite and some aerosol cans that Vanderwald had sent in his latest shipment. Each of the Hindus had a molded hunk of C-6 explosive with a tiny timer duct-taped to the small of his back. On each of their legs, hidden under the robes they wore, was a handgun just in case things went bad.

The van pulled up to a gate leading into the vast mosque.

Hickman and the others climbed out, pulled out the cart, buckets, and brooms and then walked toward the guard. Hickman had trained for this tirelessly, learning both Arabic and how to read body language. He handed over the sheet of paper and then spoke.

“In the name of merciful Allah, we come to clean the holy site,” he said.

The time was late, the guard was tired, and the mosque was closed.

There was little reason for him to believe the men were anything other than what they said they were—he waved them through without comment. Wheeling the cart in front of him, Hickman pushed it under an arched passageway that led to the interior of the shrine.

Once inside the passageway, Hickman slipped a small mask and filter over his mouth and nose, then wrapped his headdress over that so only his eyes showed. Motioning to the Hindus to spread out and place the charges around the perimeter, he headed directly toward the Kaaba.

Four tall men in ceremonial uniforms were walking guard on each corner. Every five minutes they walked from the corner outside the black shroud with exaggerated steps that raised their feet in the air like Beefeaters at Buckingham Palace. Each guard moved from the corner where he was standing to the next in a clockwise direction, then stopped and waited. They were just finishing a repositioning when Hickman wheeled close with the cart.

Reaching into the cart, he popped one of the aerosol cans to open, then pushed it near a guard. The guard remained motionless for a second, then dropped to his knees, onto his chest, and finally facedown on the marble floor. Hickman quickly slipped under the curtain with the cart and pushed it inside.