Sacred Stone

“Go ahead and brief him,” Kasim said, “and handpick the rest of his team. Then get them on the next plane leaving Qatar for Riyadh. According to the emir’s people, there is a shuttle flight that leaves here at six p.m.”

“Very good, sir,” Skutter said.

“That leaves us with the mosques in Mecca and Medina,” Kasim said. “I’ll lead the team into Mecca and you’ll handle Medina. We’ll each have fourteen men at our disposal, and our primary purpose will be to detect and disarm whatever type of destructive devices we believe Hickman has placed. We go in, search and remove, and get out again without being detected.”

“What if Hickman has switched the meteorites?”

“The rest of my people are working on that as we speak,” Kasim said.

THE INDIAN LEADER stared out the window of the house in Rabigh. The sun was set low in the sky and night would soon be upon them. It was about two hundred miles from Rabigh to Medina, or nearly four hours’ drive time. Once there they’d need a few hours to check the lay of the land, find the access panel to the underground tunnel outside the mosque Hickman had marked on the diagram, and then enter.

It would take less than an hour to place the charges and exit the tunnel again.

Then there was the four-hour drive back to Rabigh. If the Hindus wanted to be on the boat to Egypt by sunrise tomorrow, January 6, as scheduled, they’d need to get moving.

After checking the crate of explosives again, the leader motioned for it to be carried outside to the truck. Eight minutes later they were driving down the road to Medina.

HANLEY WAS FINDING that Overholt’s word was gold this time around. He was getting whatever he asked for. And he was getting it fast.

“We’re ready to start beaming,” Overholt said to Hanley over the phone. “Open up the link and check the picture quality.”

Hanley motioned to Stone, who brought the images up on a monitor. Cameras at the entrance and exit to the Suez Canal were showing the passing ships as clear as if you were standing on the shore.

“Beautiful,” Hanley said.

“What else do you need?” Overholt asked.

“Does the Agency have a Muslim agent in Saudi Arabia?”

“We have half a dozen,” Overholt said.

“We need to know if the meteorite has been switched already,” Hanley said.

“Even our people can’t get inside the curtain,” Overholt said. “There are four guards that walk the perimeter continuously.”

“But they can get inside al-Haram mosque,” Hanley said. “Have him come as close to the curtain as he can with a Geiger counter and then have him bow down and pray. If the Greenland meteorite is inside the curtain already, he should pick up radioactivity.”

“Excellent,” Overholt said. “We’ll get on it right away and report back as soon as we know anything. What else?”

“We need overhead satellite shots of both mosques as detailed as possible along with any engineering diagrams, floor plans, layouts or whatever else you can locate.”

“I’ll have a package assembled as soon as possible, and I’ll have it sent by satellite transmission and followed up by a courier,” Overholt said.

“Good,” Hanley said. “The plan is for the Corporation to imagine we were Hickman and proceed as he would. Once we have the documents, we’re going to assemble our team and plan how we would go about destroying the mosques if that was our mission.”

“I’m staying in my office for the duration,” Overholt said. “If you hear anything—or need anything—call at any hour.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hanley said. “We’ll get this done for you.”

UPON LANDING IN Tel Aviv, Cabrillo rented a car and drove as close as he could get to the Dome of the Rock. He entered through the gate near the al-Aqsa Mosque then crossed over into the courtyard where the Dome of the Rock was centered. The entire complex was some thirty-five acres in size, with garden and fountains and various shrines. The courtyard was crowded with tourists and scholars.

Cabrillo walked into the Dome building and stared at the spotlighted rock.

It was easy to see this was once the top of the hill—the rough outcropping jutted up, surrounded by a viewing area—but it was the history, not any particular physical attribute of the rock, that made it such a sacred site. For all intents and purposes, the rock looked like thousands of others nearby.

Cabrillo left the Dome building and headed underground to the Musalla Marwan.

The Musalla Marwan lies under the paved courtyard in the southeast corner of the complex. A vast underground area also known as Solomon’s Stables, the subterranean space is domed and bisected by long walls with columns and arches. For the most part, the space is open floor and is now used as an overflow area for Friday prayers.

Here, in the cool underground, Cabrillo could feel the history seep into his bones.