Sacred Stone

Then he walked toward the entrance and through the gate.

He was partway across the courtyard when the shrill whistle from a bird sounded.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he slid the keys from his pocket as he neared the building. He grasped the padlock and slid the key in the slot. He was just twisting the lock open when he felt a hand across his mouth and a tiny prick on his arm.

Ralmein grew even more sleepy.

KASIM OPENED THE door to the room and dragged Ralmein inside. Flipping the light switch on the wall, a single bulb lit up and illuminated the crowded space. The inside of the building wasn’t much—a rack against the wall holding uniforms in plastic sleeves to keep them clean, a large laundry-type sink, and a toilet behind a curtain.

On the wall, attached with tacks to a corkboard, was the schedule for the coming week. On the wall next to it was a framed photograph of King Abdullah and another of the Great Mosque during the hajj, taken from the air, showing crowds of people. The only other thing was a round black-edged clock. It read 1:51 A.M.

KASIM HEARD WHAT sounded like the hoot of an owl. He turned off the light and waited.

The second guard walked through the open door and reached for the light switch. He flicked it on, and for the briefest of seconds saw Kasim standing there. The image was so shocking to his mind that it didn’t register for a second. By the time it did, Kasim had wrapped his arms around him and pricked him with the needle.

The guard was placed alongside Ralmein.

Right at that instant, Kasim heard the voices of two men approaching. He had no time to reach the light switch to turn it off, no time to hide. The two men walked through the open door and stared at him.

“What the—” one started to say just before two of Kasim’s team hiding outside blocked the exit.

The fight was almost over before it began.

“You,” Kasim said to one of the men, “go back to the gate and bring the others here.”

The man raced off.

“You six fan out and start searching for bombs,” Kasim said. “When the sniffers arrive, we’ll send them over to you. For now, just look. If you find anything, leave it alone.”

The six men crept away into the night.

“The rest of you stay here with me. After we dress the replacement guards and they take their stations, we’ll need to deal with those going off shift.”

Three minutes later the replacement guards were dressed.

“Now,” Kasim said, “you watched what the others did, right?”

The men nodded vigorously.

“Just do the exact same thing.”

“Do we all go out together?” one of the men asked.

“No,” Kasim said, “the plan says the switch takes place one at a time. Starting at the northeast corner and moving counterclockwise.”

The clock read 1:57.

“You’re the first,” Kasim said, motioning to one of the men. “We’ll all follow and watch from a distance.”

The first faux guard walked through the courtyard. Kasim and his men hid at the edge of the building closest to the Kaaba and watched. He approached the northeast corner.

SOMETIMES EVEN THE best-thought-out plans are just that—plans. This one, cobbled together in a rush and lacking the Corporation’s usual finesse, was about to unravel like a cheap sweater. The guard Ralmein was due to relieve happened to also be his best friend. When someone else showed up instead, it raised more than concern. The real guard knew something was wrong.

“Who are you?” the guard said loudly in Arabic.

Kasim heard it and knew the problems were starting. The guard reached for a whistle on a chain around his neck. But before he could blow it the fake guard wrestled him to the ground.

“It’s a free-for-all,” Kasim yelled to his men. “Just don’t let anyone escape.”

KASIM, THE REMAINING three fake guards, and the four other men raced from their hiding spot and ran across to the Kaaba. They quickly subdued two more of the real guards but one managed to escape and ran toward the gate.

Kasim raced after him but the guard was fast. He had cleared the courtyard and was almost under the arch leading outside when one of the men looking for explosives stepped out of the shadows and clotheslined him with his arm.

The guard hit the stone flooring and was knocked out. A thin trickle of blood ran from the back of his head.

“Drag him over to the guard shack,” Kasim said as he raced over, “and wrap his head.”

The men grabbed the guard under his armpits and started dragging him away.

KASIM RACED BACK toward the Kaaba, made sure the fake guards were in place, then began to help remove the real ones to the guards’ building. When that was finished he stared at his wristwatch. The time was 2:08 A.M. Kasim raced for the gate to meet the CIA agent. A minute later the agent pulled up in the Suburban. He climbed out and took a box containing the sniffers out and set it down, then removed Abraham’s Stone—still in the box—off the rear seat.

“I’m Kasim, give me the stone.”

The agent hesitated. “I’m a Muslim,” Kasim said quickly. “Give me the stone.”

The agent handed the box to Kasim.

“Take the sniffers inside and hand them to the first man you see,” Kasim said. “Then get the hell out of here. This is not going as smoothly as we’d pla

“Okay,” the agent said.

Kasim, clutching the box to his waist, ran toward the entrance with the CIA agent right behind. Once inside the gate, the agent handed the box of sniffers to a man who raced over, then he stood for a second and watched as Kasim ran across the courtyard toward the curtain that hung over the Kaaba. Kasim was just slipping under the curtain when the agent turned and raced back to the Suburban.

A FEELING OF peace, tranquility and history flooded over Kasim as soon as he was under the curtain. For the briefest of moments he was filled with hope. A single spotlight cast a beam toward the silver frame where the Greenland meteorite was now displayed.

Kasim stepped closer, then set the box down and cut the tape on the seam with his knife. He reached up, wrested the Greenland meteorite from the frame and set it on the ground. Then he carefully lifted Abraham’s Stone from the box.

Slowly and reverently he put it back in its rightful place.

Then Kasim stood back, made a quick prayer, and gathered up the Greenland meteorite, which he placed back in the box. Slipping back under the curtain, he carried the box over to the guard’s building. The rest of the men were already searching the mosque with the sniffers when he reached for his phone.

SKUTTER SAT IN the passenger seat of the truck. The rest of his team sat in the rear. Just then the telephone rang.

“We’re watching you from above,” Hanley said. “There has been a slight change in plans—we don’t want you to go to Jeddah. We’re going to pull you out before that.”

“Where do you want us to go?” Skutter asked.

On the Oregon,Hanley was watching the infrared satellite image of the truck racing south. “Go six point two miles farther south,” Hanley said, “then pull over to the side of the road. There is a ship just offshore there now. They are sending in a shore boat to extract you from the cove there. Just get all your men aboard, Captain Skutter, and we’ll take it from there.”

“HOW MANY CHARGES had Kasim and his team found when he called?” Stone asked.

“Five,” Hanley said.

“Well, sir, I’d order him to leave the rest to the Saudis. I just intercepted a call from the wife of one of the guards. She was calling the local police to inquire why her husband was not home yet.”