Read Online The Lance (The PROJECT: Book Two) by Alex Lukeman - Free Book Online
Authors: Alex Lukeman
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with her elbow to Blondie's kidney. The woman arched backward in pain and Rivka kicked the gun from her hand. It bounced along the stone floor. Nick pulled out his .45.
It should have been enough. The paralyzing blows should have ended it. The man brought up another pistol, his second mistake. Nick shot him in the face. The back of his head disintegrated in a thick spray of blood and bone that plastered the rock behind him. The round whined away down the passage.
"Jew bitch!"
The woman grabbed a snub nosed pistol from under her dress. Rivka fired twice and the yellow dress bloomed with red.
The shots echoed from the ancient stones.
Someone began yelling in the main tunnel outside. Waves of pain ran up Nick's arm. Ripples of light moved just behind his eyes. He held his left hand against his chest and bent over the man's body. He went through the pockets, looking for identification. Nothing. Rivka searched the woman's purse. She looked up, shook her head.
"Nothing here."
"Not here, either."
Nick felt where the bullet had grazed him. A rip in his shirt, a little blood, another ruined jacket. The pain began to subside in his arm.
"You all right?" Rivka looked at Nick.
"Yeah. They're dead."
Rivka's eyebrows went up. "You think? What gave you that impression?"
"I mean, they're not going to tell us much, are they?"
"Not in words. But they had to come from somewhere. We'll track them down." Rivka looked down at the woman and the blood pooling under the yellow dress.
"Somebody really doesn't like you, Nick."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A mixed tour group of college students waited to enter Solomon's Stables, at the south eastern corner of the Temple Mount. Security was tight. Students were allowed to carry only tourist guides and literature. Cameras were forbidden. Backpacks were forbidden. A pile of them was stacked outside the entrance under the watchful eye of a security guard.
A tall, blond man in his mid-twenties waited for the tour to begin. He was absorbed in a travel guide he held in his hand, reading about the Stables.
King Herod had built the chambers to support the southeastern corner of the Temple Mount, back in the first century, before the Temple had been destroyed by the Romans. The Stables covered an area of 5000 square feet. It was formed from a series of high, vaulted passages lined with eighty-eight rows of pillars and arches, some of the arches thirty feet wide. A thousand years after Herod, the Crusaders had stabled their horses there and left the name. Holes in the rock could still be seen where the Templar knights had tied the animals' reins. Now the Stables housed the el-Marwani mosque, open to tours except during prayers.
T hirteen meters above the floor of the cavernous space, preparations for President Rice's speech were under way. The halls and arches of the stables extended beneath the spot where Rice would stand and partway under the al-Aqsa Mosque.
The tour guide led his charges into the famous chambers and began his commentary. The students straggled in spite of the guide's admonitions. The tall young man drifted further behind the group, then ducked into one of the side passages.
He knew where to go. He stopped in a dim recess. He opened the book and removed the bomb. He checked his watch. He set the timer and molded the explosive against the stone, in the exact place where aerial sonar scans had shown a serious fracture in the bedrock supporting the mosque above.
It took only a minute. His father was going to be proud of him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ronnie and Selena were on the rifle range at Quantico. Time to get Selena familiar with M4A1 rifles. Their sat phones signaled. Ronnie grunted when he read the message . Selena looked at her display.
Alpha Red. 3P.FC.XG.E5.
" What…," Selena started to say. Ronnie placed his finger on her lips, shook his head. He tore a page from his pocket notepad and wrote on it.
T alk about the weapons. Act normal. Trouble.
Selena
It should have been enough. The paralyzing blows should have ended it. The man brought up another pistol, his second mistake. Nick shot him in the face. The back of his head disintegrated in a thick spray of blood and bone that plastered the rock behind him. The round whined away down the passage.
"Jew bitch!"
The woman grabbed a snub nosed pistol from under her dress. Rivka fired twice and the yellow dress bloomed with red.
The shots echoed from the ancient stones.
Someone began yelling in the main tunnel outside. Waves of pain ran up Nick's arm. Ripples of light moved just behind his eyes. He held his left hand against his chest and bent over the man's body. He went through the pockets, looking for identification. Nothing. Rivka searched the woman's purse. She looked up, shook her head.
"Nothing here."
"Not here, either."
Nick felt where the bullet had grazed him. A rip in his shirt, a little blood, another ruined jacket. The pain began to subside in his arm.
"You all right?" Rivka looked at Nick.
"Yeah. They're dead."
Rivka's eyebrows went up. "You think? What gave you that impression?"
"I mean, they're not going to tell us much, are they?"
"Not in words. But they had to come from somewhere. We'll track them down." Rivka looked down at the woman and the blood pooling under the yellow dress.
"Somebody really doesn't like you, Nick."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A mixed tour group of college students waited to enter Solomon's Stables, at the south eastern corner of the Temple Mount. Security was tight. Students were allowed to carry only tourist guides and literature. Cameras were forbidden. Backpacks were forbidden. A pile of them was stacked outside the entrance under the watchful eye of a security guard.
A tall, blond man in his mid-twenties waited for the tour to begin. He was absorbed in a travel guide he held in his hand, reading about the Stables.
King Herod had built the chambers to support the southeastern corner of the Temple Mount, back in the first century, before the Temple had been destroyed by the Romans. The Stables covered an area of 5000 square feet. It was formed from a series of high, vaulted passages lined with eighty-eight rows of pillars and arches, some of the arches thirty feet wide. A thousand years after Herod, the Crusaders had stabled their horses there and left the name. Holes in the rock could still be seen where the Templar knights had tied the animals' reins. Now the Stables housed the el-Marwani mosque, open to tours except during prayers.
T hirteen meters above the floor of the cavernous space, preparations for President Rice's speech were under way. The halls and arches of the stables extended beneath the spot where Rice would stand and partway under the al-Aqsa Mosque.
The tour guide led his charges into the famous chambers and began his commentary. The students straggled in spite of the guide's admonitions. The tall young man drifted further behind the group, then ducked into one of the side passages.
He knew where to go. He stopped in a dim recess. He opened the book and removed the bomb. He checked his watch. He set the timer and molded the explosive against the stone, in the exact place where aerial sonar scans had shown a serious fracture in the bedrock supporting the mosque above.
It took only a minute. His father was going to be proud of him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ronnie and Selena were on the rifle range at Quantico. Time to get Selena familiar with M4A1 rifles. Their sat phones signaled. Ronnie grunted when he read the message . Selena looked at her display.
Alpha Red. 3P.FC.XG.E5.
" What…," Selena started to say. Ronnie placed his finger on her lips, shook his head. He tore a page from his pocket notepad and wrote on it.
T alk about the weapons. Act normal. Trouble.
Selena
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