C. Palov - Ark of Fire

Hoping the relic’s infamous lineage would create some dissension in the ranks, Edie asked the obvious. “What happened to the Stones of Fire when Lucifer was cast out of heaven?” As she spoke, she noticed that all three of MacFarlane’s henchmen turned an attentive ear.

“The Stones of Fire then passed to the archangels Michael and Gabriel. Not only did they share joint custody of the breastplate, but it is their two images that supposedly adorn the lid of the Ark.” Picking up the game ball, Caedmon pointedly glanced at Braxton, Harliss, and Sanchez before turning his attention to MacFarlane. “Do you think it’s safe for your boys to come into such close proximity to the Ark? Unlike you, they have no protection should a tragic accident occur.”

“Yeah, I hear tell that skin cancer can be difficult to treat,” Edie piped in. “And as far as I know, there’s no cure for the plague.” Seeing Sanchez’s slack-jawed expression, she decided to push the fear factor for all it was worth. “Oh, and let’s not forget about those poor guys at Bethshemesh. Not a pretty story, let me tell ya.”

Craning his head, Caedmon peered into what now appeared to be a five-foot-deep hole, directing his comments to Braxton and Sanchez. “Did your commander mention that the Ark of the Covenant is, in fact, a weapon of mass destruction, once used to slaughter the enemies of Israel? My own theory is that the Ten Commandments were inscribed upon pieces of radioactive—”

“Lies! Every last word of it!” MacFarlane bellowed, his face having turned a distinctly unhealthy shade of madder red.

Nervously gripping the shovel handle, Sanchez came to a standstill. “But, sir, what if—”

“Keep digging!”

“Yes, sir!” Sanchez replied, applying spade to dirt with a renewed vigor.

Realizing the momentum had just swung the other way, Edie’s shoulders slumped. “So much for converting one of the faithful.”

“There is a reason why they are called true believers,” Caedmon replied. Though he didn’t show it, she knew that he, too, was dismayed by the almost-win.

At hearing a loud metallic clunk! MacFarlane rushed over to the hole.

“Sir, we just hit some sort of metal box,” Braxton excitedly declared.

Edie swallowed back a nugget-sized lump of fear.

“I think they may have actually found the bloody Ark of the Covenant.” Like a man possessed, Caedmon intently stared at the excavated hole.

Repeating the procedure from the cloister, Sanchez fetched the length of coiled rope, and he and Braxton cinched it around the buried object.

MacFarlane, smiling indulgently, turned his attention to Caedmon. “Do you by any chance know the meaning of the words apocalypse and tribulation ?”

If Caedmon thought the question odd, he gave no indication. “Apocalypse is taken from the Greek word apokalupsis , meaning ‘revelation.’ And tribulation is from the Greek thlipsis , meaning ‘affliction.’ Did I pass?”

MacFarlane’s smile broadened. “No, you did not. Because like most, you have no concept of the power that is inherent in those two words, the prophetic truth that those two words reveal. Most people think of Judgment Day as a fairy tale that can never come to pass.”

“I take it that you think differently?”

“‘And I will plead against him with pestilence and with blood; and I will rain upon him, and upon his bands, and upon the many people that are with him, an overflowing rain, and great hailstones, fire, and brimstone.’”

Listening to the verbal joust, Edie started to get a very bad feeling in the pit of her painfully cramped stomach.

Apocalypse. Tribulation. Judgment Day.

She’d heard those words before. Long years ago when she’d been made to sit silently while her grandfather nightly read aloud from the dog-eared family Bible.

End Times prophecies.

The Bible, both Old and New Testaments, was full of it. When she was a young girl, those stories of disease, famine, and global warfare had terrified her.

But what did the End Times prophecies have to do with the Ark of the Covenant?

CHAPTER 69

“I know that Bible verse . . . it’s from the book of Ezekiel,” Edie murmured.

Knowing that Edie had been force-fed a biblical diet during her teenage years, Caedmon turned to her. At a glance, he could see that she was distressed by MacFarlane’s recitation.

“I didn’t take you for being a woman versed in the prophecies,” MacFarlane dismissively replied.

Edie shrugged. “My grandfather held to the same End Times belief, absolutely certain that Ezekiel’s war, as he called it, loomed on the near horizon.”

“Then you undoubtedly know that the ancient prophecies are a gift from God. A light in the midst of the spiritual malaise that is so prevalent in our day and age. Long centuries ago, the prophet Ezekiel clearly spelled out God’s battle plan to save mankind from the forces of evil that lurk on the near horizon.” MacFarlane spoke with a proprietary air, as though imparting a great and wondrous secret.

“Which merely proves what I’ve thought all along . . . that biblical prophecy is too often used to justify the hate-filled agendas of warmongers like yourself.” Edie’s normally pale cheeks were flushed with vivid color; Caedmon was well aware that, for her, the argument had a personal dimension. “Many fundamental Christians believe that the verses of Ezekiel contain a detailed plan for the invasion of Israel by an alliance of foreign countries,” she continued, addressing her comments directly to Caedmon. “It’s what known as the Battle of Gog and Magog. Furthermore, they believe that this battle will be fought during the last days.”

The last days.

By that he supposed that Edie referred to the much-ballyhooed apocalypse. The end of the world as we know it. As in bend your knees and kiss your arse good-bye.

Was MacFarlane’s obsession with the Ark of the Covenant somehow intertwined with an apocalyptic vision? God help them if it was; history was full of men who had proclaimed that the end of the world was near at hand. In almost every instance, those “visionaries” left only pain and misery in their wake.

“I’m curious about this so-called Battle of Gog and Magog,” Caedmon said. If he’d learned anything during his tenure with Her Majesty’s government, it was that information was a form of power. Sometimes the only power one had over one’s enemies. “Where precisely will the conflict take place?”

“The great battle will be fought in the mountains of Israel,” MacFarlane replied.

“I see.” Caedmon mulled the disclosure, his curiosity piqued. “And who will be involved in this clash of titans?”

His nemesis answered, “The prophet Ezekiel clearly writes of an alliance of nations from remote parts of the north known as ‘the land of Gog.’ This alliance will come under the leadership of the ruler of Gog, also known as Magog, and will include the princes of Rosh, Meshech, and Tubal.”

Caedmon silently considered what, to the uninitiated ear, was so much gibberish. “I assume that Rosh refers to the tribe of Ros, an ancient group of people believed to have inhabited the region of modern-day Ukraine and Russia.” When MacFarlane nodded, he next said, “So presumably this northern alliance will be composed of former eastern bloc countries.”

“Many of which, such as Kazakhstan and Tajikistan, are Islamic nations,” Edie pointed out.

Islamic nations fighting a cataclysmic battle within the borders of Israel.

The stew pot had considerably thickened.