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Contrary to popular belief, bear spray was not more potent than similar products designed for self-defense against human attackers. In fact, the concentration of capsicum — the hot pepper oil used as a blistering agent — in pepper spray could be as high as 30 %. By contrast, government regulations required bear spray to contain no more than 2 %. The purpose of bear spray was not to harm a bear or other animal, but to discourage it from a distance, which it did with a greater volume of spray under higher pressure, more than doubling the effective range.

At point-blank range, though, a blast of bear spray in the face guaranteed that a generous amount of the mild acid went into the victim’s eyes.

The man jerked away, hunching over, covering his face and swearing. A moment later, the curses became a shriek of pain as the capsicum began reacting with his mucous membranes. But those were silenced when Tanaka brought the mostly full canister down on the back of the man’s head. The blow dropped the man to his knees, dazing him.

As blunt weapons went, the bear spray canister was a poor choice, but as with its contents, any deficiency in potency could be offset with volume.

Tanaka brought the metal container down again. The stunned caretaker threw up a hand, blindly trying to deflect the assault, but another blow flattened him. Tanaka did not relent however. He dropped to his knees and hit the man again.

And again.

And again.

The canister had become slick with gore and threatened to twist out of his grip every time he slammed it down. He squeezed it so tightly that the pressurized container dimpled under his fingertips, but he kept slamming it down, until the man’s head was an unrecognizable mass of ravaged tissue and bone. Then, he fell back on his haunches, turned his head, and vomited.

He had just killed a man.

He knew, on an intuitive level, how absurd it was to feel remorse over a single death. His actions in Geneva had killed thousands…hundreds of thousands…perhaps even millions. And soon, he would bring about the death of every living thing on Earth. Bludgeoning the caretaker had been different only in that it was more immediate.

More…visceral.

But the end result was the same. A few moments of pain, and then an end to suffering forever.

He checked his watch and was surprised to see that it was almost nine p.m. At this latitude, and so near the summer solstice, the nights were short and started very late. That had been one of the hardest things for him to adjust to during the eighteen months he had spent here, back in the early days of the project. The cold and the long nights of winter hadn’t bothered him much at all, but eighteen-plus hours of daylight was enough to drive the soberest soul crazy.

That thought brought another smile. In a few hours, the length of time it would take him to retrofit the Ionic Research Instrument — the IRI — to accommodate the Roswell fragment, the distinction between night and day would become meaningless.

He would divert all the sun’s light away from the Earth. There would be only night, and in a matter of weeks, a frozen wasteland with no one left to care.

There would be suffering, yes, but in the grand scheme of the cosmos, it would be brief.

He coughed, spat to clear the taste of bile from his mouth, got to his feet, and dragged the corpse off the road and into the trees, where it would not be seen in the unlikely event that someone happened by. Then, he got in the cart and started up the hill.

No more obstacles.

No distance left to travel.

It would all be over soon.

REVELATION

FIFTY-THREE

London, England

As relieved as he was to know that the Ark was within reach, Pierce couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. The Ark had been found, but not by him.

After the somewhat disappointing discovery in the secret Masonic hall under Temple Church, he and the others had retired to a hotel room. Showers and soft beds provided some much-needed physical refreshment, but the mystery of what had become of the Ark weighed on Pierce’s mind, keeping him awake well into the wee hours of the morning. He had barely drifted off to sleep when Dourado had called to deliver the news.

“They found it! Dr. Carter and Mr. Lazarus found the Ark in Ethiopia!”

His first impulse had been to question the bold claim. How did they know it wasn’t a replica? But during the subsequent conference call, Carter answered all questions and removed all doubts.

Ethiopia.

Pierce shook his head. He had been right to question the story recorded in the Ethiopian Kebra Nagast, but wrong to dismiss the many centuries worth of tradition that supported the broader claim that the Ark was there.

Nothing to do about it now. The ship had sailed. The Ark had been found, and his chance to be Indiana Jones had slipped through his fingers. Now it was time to get down to the business of saving the world.

After a quick breakfast, they met with Clive Chillingsworth at the London Masonic Hall, this time entering by the front door in Great Queen Street, just half a mile from Temple Church. The original plan had been to scour the secret archives relating to the Templars’ discovery of the Tabernacle and root out a clue that would reveal the Ark’s true location. With that matter resolved, he turned his attention to the subject of how best to use the Ark to shut down the Black Knight.

“Sir Isaac foresaw this,” Chillingsworth said, after overcoming his initial shock at the revelation of the Ark’s discovery. “Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he recognized the truth that others foresaw many centuries before.”

“You think this is the End of Days foretold in the Bible?” Gallo asked, without a hint of irony.

“It would be irresponsible to ignore the many parallels,” Chillingsworth said. “Earthquakes. Signs in the heavens. And the Ark…we mustn’t forget that. The prophecies indicate the Ark will be found and returned to Jerusalem just before the End of Days. Sir Isaac believed that as well.”

“You also said he predicted the End no sooner than 2060,” Pierce countered.

“Maybe what he meant to say is that we can buy ourselves another forty years if we get this right,” Fiona suggested.

Chillingsworth nodded. “It may be that the prophecies were not pronouncements of doom, but instructions about how to avert this catastrophe.”

“Instructions,” Pierce murmured. “Hidden in ancient prophecies.”

He glanced over at Fiona, recalling her vision of Raven stealing the sun and moon. He didn’t believe in prophecies. Maybe the Originators were time travelers, or existed outside of the limitations of space-time…which he had to admit, smacked of the supernatural.

“So it’s not enough to have the Ark?” Fiona went on. “Now we have to get it to Jerusalem?”

“Specifically, the Temple Mount. Based on Sir Isaac’s calculations, that is where it should reach peak efficiency. And I’m afraid the Ark alone isn’t enough. It must be contained within a structure designed to amplify…or perhaps contain its power.”

“The Tabernacle,” Pierce said.

Chillingsworth inclined his head in a nod.

Pierce let out a sigh. “So all we have to do is get the Ark and the Tabernacle into Jerusalem under the noses of the Israelis, and then set them up on the doorstep of the Dome of the Rock. Easy.”

He did not need to explain the reason for his frustration.

The Temple Mount was sacred to all three great monotheistic religions. In addition to being the location of Solomon’s Temple, it was also believed to be the site where Abraham went to offer up his son Isaac as a sacrifice, an act that God prevented. But the incident nonetheless sealed a divine covenant with the descendants of Abraham — Jews and Arabs alike. It was also believed to be the place where Muhammad ascended into heaven, an event that was commemorated with the construction of the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa mosque. After the Kabbah in Mecca, they were the oldest and most revered Islamic structures in existence. Although the site was under their authority, the Israeli government had honored the long-standing Muslim presence, but many in all three faiths believed that one day, a new Jewish Temple would be built on the spot, an action that would serve as the catalyst for the final great battle.