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off it.
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The Hebrew Ark. The most sought-after religious artifact in history. And the
most dangerous. Could what he was holding in his hands possibly be a clue to
where it now rested? He could only imagine the uproar that would be sparked
around the globe simply by the unveiling of the Temple treasures. How much
more tumult would the discovery of the Ark bring about?
Bennett's quivering hands slowly closed over the golden scroll. He needed Erin
and
Natasha.
Erin stared at the trail of blood.
And the broken flashlight, covered with bloody fingerprints.
"Natasha,"
she yelled, but there was no answer.
Erin sprinted into the tunnel another hundred yards and finally found her new
friend crumpled against a wall. She set down her Uzi and felt for Natasha's
pulse. It was weak but still there. Natasha was breathing, but blood was
everywhere. Erin shouted for Jon;
then she leaned down and checked Natasha's pupils. They were dilated and
unresponsive.
"
Natasha," she said gently. Natasha, it's me, Erin. Can you hear me? Move your
"
fingers if you can hear me."
There was no movement. She called for Jon again. He didn't respond. Lord
Jesus, "
please, please have mercy on this girl," Erin prayed. "I know how much you
love her, and
I pray that you would have mercy on her, Father. Let her live. Please, let her
live. I can't take any more death. There's been too much dying, too much pain.
Please, Father, spare her. Spare us, too. I pray in the name of Jesus. Amen."
Erin opened her eyes. Natasha's face was white as a sheet.
"Natasha, I want you to hold on, okay? Can you hear me? I want you to hold on.
I'm going to get Jon. I'll be right back."
Bennett heard Erin shouting.
He set down his camer, grabbed his Uzi, and raced to find her, nearly running
into her as she reentered the main antechamber. He could see the panic in her
eyes and instantly knew what had happened.
"Is she still alive?" he asked.
"Barely," said Erin. "Two shots. One to the stomach. One to the shoulder. We
need to get her out of here now."
But her words had barely registered when they heard the pump action of a
shotgun.
"That may not be possible," said a man's voice neither of them recognized.
Bennett looked over Erin's shoulder in disbelief. Beyond the mountain of gold
coins beside them he could see someone in the shadows near the entrance.
Someone who was holding a double-barreled shotgun aimed at their heads.
Bennett glanced back at Erin. He knew what she was thinking. But there was no
way.
He shook his head ever so slightly, just enough so she'd get the idea without
drawing the gunman's fire.
"Set your weapons down slowly, both of you," said the man. "Then put your
hands in the air and turn around."
"Who are you?" Bennett asked as he and Erin both lowered their Uzis to the
floor.
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"I am your executioner."
Bennett didn't wait for confirmation. He grabbed Erin, threw her to the left,
then dove to the right, behind a mountain of gold coins.
The shotgun blast was deafening. Then came another. Both missed narrowly, but
coins flew everywhere, forcing the gunman to duck. Erin scrambled for cover in
one of the back rooms, then drew her Beretta. Bennett, meanwhile, reversed
direction, grabbed one of the Uzis off the floor, and dove into the next room
behind Erin.
Another shotgun blast. Another near miss. The man was closer now. Bennett
checked the magazine and found it half empty.
Erin peeked around the corner.
That drew another blast. She waited a beat, then checked again. This time the
gunman was coming in fast. She fired off three rounds. Two went wide but the
third hit him in the shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him against a
wall.
Erin caught Jon's eye and nodded. He took the cue, pivoted around the corner,
and fired off two rapid bursts. The killer wasn't there, but his blood was
splattered everywhere.
Erin took another quick glance. The tunnel was clear. She motioned to Jon to
move on the count of three. She held up one finger, then another. On the third
they both burst into the open, guns blazing, but the man was still nowhere to
be found.
Bennett was almost out of ammo.
There was more in his backpack, but just as he considered racing to the back
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