Infidels, p.26
Infidels, page 26
Kane looked back at Red, shrugging. “Will we?”
“Damned right we will.”
He resumed lowering the crate, Wings repositioning, no one else below firing though the guns were still aimed up at them.
Suddenly a group of white robed men rushed out from an entrance to their right. They were waving their arms, Red not at first certain if their actions were aimed at him and his team, or the soldiers below.
The soldiers began to part, making a hole where the crate was about to touch down.
The robed men, about a dozen of them, formed a circle, reaching up for the crate as it continued to lower until it was finally low enough for them to grab the netting, stabilizing the load.
“Almost there…”
There was suddenly slack in the cable, the pitch of the motor changing. Someone began to unhook the cable then waved, Red reversing the winch, the cable quickly spinning up.
“Let’s get the hell out of here!”
He took one last look as Wings banked away. The top was already off the crate, the Black Stone revealed inside.
And dozens of soldiers were dropping to their knees in prayer, their weapons tossed aside.
Now let’s just hope they do the same around the world.
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“Is that going out to the world?”
Leroux nodded to his boss as the room erupted in cheers, the satellite and helmet-cam footage showing the crate touching down and the helicopter banking away, quickly clearing the city limits in its race back to the coast.
With no signs of pursuit.
But what was truly encouraging were the satellite images showing the soldiers praying, their weapons tossed aside. Morrison had ordered the live footage streamed to the Internet for the world to see, despite the government still denying any involvement. Leroux had his team mask the origins of the upload, but there could be no doubt to the world that it was footage from a classified military satellite.
It was just too damned good.
“Are they clear yet?” asked Morrison.
“Yes, sir,” said Leroux, pointing to a map with a dotted line showing international waters, and a red dot indicating the helicopter’s location. “They just entered international waters. They should be landing shortly.”
The room breathed a sigh of relief and Leroux collapsed into his chair, completely physically and mentally exhausted.
In fact, he felt seriously ill.
Hospital worthy.
“Chris, are you okay?”
Morrison’s voice was distant and the room began to go black as concerned voices surrounded him.
I just need to rest…
St. James’s Hospital, Dublin, Ireland
Dawson closed his eyes, imagining the window of the Intensive Care Unit, Maggie on the other side, her head bandaged, monitors displaying her vital signs, a nurse double-checking everything.
She was going to live.
The relief he felt was indescribable, overwhelming. When the surgeon had delivered the news he hadn’t said anything, instead simply shaking the man’s hand then leaving the room. He had walked outside for about ten minutes as he wrestled with his emotions, finally getting them under control.
She was going to live.
But she was in a coma.
A coma she may never come out of.
Only time would tell.
And if she did come out of it, he was going to dump her.
What kind of a man are you?
The thought of losing her had made him realize that he couldn’t live without her. Not having her in his life now was unimaginable, and to end it when she needed him most would be the act of a coward.
And nobody had ever called him that twice.
The choice should be hers, not his. His plan to end things wasn’t for the right reasons. He was trying to anticipate her needs, not his. He wanted her, he needed her, so to end things with her had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her.
And that meant it should be her decision to make.
If she wanted to end it because she felt she’d be safer without a man like him in her life, he’d respect that decision. It would devastate him, but at least he’d understand it.
But if she wanted to keep going, to give this thing they had a chance, then that should be her choice.
And it would be.
“How are you doing?”
Dawson spun to see Interpol Special Agent Hugh Reading standing behind him, his expression one of concern. He had obviously heard what had happened.
“She’s going to live.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Dawson drew in a deep breath, trying to keep control. “Not good. But I’ll survive.”
“I understand what you’re going through.”
“Kinti.”
Reading’s face clouded over, a profound sadness taking hold.
He knows exactly what you’re going through.
“I only knew her for a few days, but when I lost her, I felt like a part of me died.” He looked away. “A part that’s still dead to this day.”
Dawson nodded. “She was a special woman.”
“She was.” Reading sucked in a quick breath. “Enough of this feeling sorry for ourselves. Maggie’s going to live from what I’ve been told, and there’s good hope that she’ll come out of the coma soon.”
Dawson pressed his lips together. “I wish I had your confidence.”
Reading smiled. “I know, it’s easier for me to say than you to believe.” He motioned toward the main entrance with a tilt of his head. “How about we go inside and see if there’s been any developments?”
Dawson nodded. “How did you make out in London?” he asked as they began to walk back to the hospital.
“Horrendous. Made the riots of a few years ago look like playtime. There’s no official death toll yet, but it’s in the thousands, probably tens of thousands. The military moved into London last night then decided to hold their positions when the broadcast went live of the Black Stone’s return. They began broadcasting messages via megaphone to the crowds about the return and that seemed to take the fire out of their bellies. Most ended up leaving, but enough stayed to still cause problems. The military’s now providing support for the police who are dealing directly with those that stuck around.”
“The military should never have to be used against its own citizens.”
Reading nodded. “Agreed. But I don’t think we had much choice this time. At least in the UK it didn’t turn into what happened in Paris.”
Dawson shook his head. “I saw the start of the initial counterattack and it looked pretty brutal. Any word?”
“The French are keeping a tight lid on it right now but if you believe the Internet, thousands were killed within the first few minutes. That seemed to break their backs, then when the word spread of the return, things began to break up. I think you’re more likely to hear official death tolls at the hands of the rioters first. They’ll use those numbers to justify their actions.”
Dawson stepped through the sliding doors, heading for the elevators. “The way I feel right now, any response was justified after what those people did.”
Reading held out his arm, holding the elevator door open as Dawson stepped aboard. “Understandable. I think a lot of people are going to feel that way for a long time. But unless we figure out a way to all get along, the way of life we’ve enjoyed for the past century is going to be destroyed.”
“How are things stateside?”
The doors opened and they stepped out. “You guys fared pretty well. Some protests, mild rioting, mostly opportunistic since it turned into looting pretty quickly. But nothing compared to what happened in Europe. Canada had some problems in Toronto that they were able to contain. Mostly just isolated incidents outside of Europe with respect to Western countries. Africa was a bloodbath as is to be expected, and throughout Asia they killed a lot of Christians but far more of each other.”
Niner waved to them, holding vigil in the ICU waiting area.
“Hiya, Hugh. Glad to see you made it.”
“A little delayed. Had to go through Heathrow, Gatwick was overrun. But I’m here now.” He nodded toward Maggie on the other side of the glass. “Any word?”
“Nothing yet,” replied Niner. He raised his chin, looking over Reading’s shoulder. “Look who it is!”
They all turned to see a smiling Laura in a wheelchair, pushed by her husband.
“Laura!” Reading rushed toward his close friends, leaning over to give Laura a peck on the cheek and Acton a two-fisted handshake. “Are you okay?”
Laura nodded. “Perfectly fine. Just needed to get out of that bloody room before I went barmy.” She nodded toward Maggie. “How’s she doing?”
“No change,” replied Niner. “But I guess that’s better than it could be.”
Dawson stepped over to the window, placing one hand on the glass. “All because of a lie.”
Acton pushed Laura’s chair up to the window so she could see. “And it ends with a lie.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Saudi king is taking credit for the return of the Black Stone, despite the footage of Red’s team.”
“Typical.” Dawson shook his head. “Whatever it takes to end this insanity.”
“It seems to be working,” said Acton. “According to the news report we just saw, the Saudi military units not obeying their central command have stood down and the major population centers are back under control. Religious leaders across the Muslim world are calling for prayers rather than protest, and a period of mourning and reflection.”
Dawson grunted. “Where were they yesterday?”
“Probably out killing with the rest of them,” muttered Niner. “How much more of this BS do we have to put up with? I mean, it’s ridiculous. Every. Single. Day. It just never ends. If they’re not killing us, then they’re trying to kill us, and if they’re not trying to kill us, then they’re blaming us for killing themselves. I’m tired of being blamed because I’m American and Christian.”
Laura reached out and squeezed his hand. “I think we all are.”
Niner turned to Acton. “How do we fix it, doc?”
Acton chuckled. “If I had those answers, they’d call me a prophet.”
Niner nodded, his concerned look not going away. “But from history. What does history tell us?”
Acton took in a deep breath, looking at Maggie.
“History tells us that until Islam has its own reformation like Christianity did, things will never change.”
“Is there any sign that’s happening?”
Acton shook his head. “Not that I’ve seen, but maybe, somewhere out there, out of this chaos, someone will emerge with enough courage to persuade the masses that they must change in order to progress, otherwise risk stagnating for another thousand years.”
“They need a man of courage like Christianity had over five hundred years ago,” said Laura.
“Yes they do,” said Acton.
“But who?” asked Niner.
Acton shrugged. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Who will be their Martin Luther?”
Dawson began to tune out the conversation, his eyes glued to Maggie for some reason.
Suddenly his heart leapt as he realized why.
She was looking at him, smiling.
THE END
Acknowledgements
My God this was a violent book, even by my standards. But after watching footage of the carnage the Danish cartoons resulted in, I realized just how plausible this scenario was and didn’t feel it should be toned down. If it were, I felt it simply wouldn’t be believable given the past history of such things.
Do I think a scenario like this might happen some day?
I hope not, but unfortunately I don’t have the confidence to say it wouldn’t, though I would hope that someday, some brave soul would stand up and demand change, just as Martin Luther and others did for Christianity half a millennia ago. The death toll in this conflict with Islamism is already so high, it would be unthinkably high if it were to broaden into a conflict with Islam itself.
For there is a difference, though sometimes it seems hard to differentiate them.
This time I lay the blame for the carnage in this novel squarely at the feet of a buddy of mine, the real Chris Leroux, who sent me an article on something—what I can’t remember—that had a single short paragraph at the end of it that mentioned the original Qarmatians.
Yes, they are real, and yes, they stole the Black Stone over a thousand years ago.
Many more people to thank: my father for his usual bang-up research job, Ian Kennedy and Brent Richards for help on some fight sequences, weapons, tactics and a whole bunch of other military stuff, Ian Davidson for some motorcycle info, Marc Quesnel for some French help, Fred Newton for some car engine stuff, and Greg “Chief” Michael for some Navy technical info and military rank info (if a Gunny and a Command Sergeant Major are placed in a room together…).
To those who have not already done so, please visit my website at www.jrobertkennedy.com then sign up for the Insider’s Club to be notified of new book releases. Your email address will never be shared or sold and you’ll only receive an occasional email from me as I don’t have time to spam you!
Thank you once again for reading.
Oh, and yes, St. James’s is correct!
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About the Author
USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is the author of over twenty-five international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series of which the first installment, The Protocol, has been on the bestseller list in the US and UK since its release, including occupying the number one spot for three months. He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.
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Books by J. Robert Kennedy
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol
Brass Monkey
Broken Dove
The Templar's Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii's Ghosts
Amazon Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter's Soldiers
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator
Containment Failure
Cold Warriors
Death to America
Black Widow
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
The Protocol
A James Acton Thriller - Book #1
For two thousand years the Triarii have protected us, influencing history from the crusades to the discovery of America. Descendent from the Roman Empire, they pervade every level of society, and are now in a race with our own government to retrieve an ancient artifact thought to have been lost forever.
To sample or purchase, please visit Amazon: US, UK, Canada, Australia, or click here for additional purchase options.
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Brass Monkey
A James Acton Thriller - Book #2
A nuclear missile, lost during the Cold War, is now in play--the most public spy swap in history, with a gorgeous agent the center of international attention, triggers the end-game of a corrupt Soviet Colonel's twenty-five year plan. Pursued across the globe by the Russian authorities, including a brutal Spetsnaz unit, those involved will stop at nothing to deliver their weapon, and ensure their pay day, regardless of the terrifying consequences.
To sample or purchase, please visit Amazon: US, UK, Canada, Australia, or click here for additional purchase options.
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Broken Dove
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