The Temple Mount Code by Charles Brokaw Read Free Book Online

and the precious Scroll.’
    ‘How could he do such a thing?’
    ‘Despite God’s mission for him, Mohammad was only flesh and blood. He was stronger than men but weak in that moment, as men sometimes are.’
    ‘Where did he drop his Koran and the Scroll?’
    The Ayatollah took a breath and tried to decide how much to tell the boy. He knew his family was sequestered away from the rest of the world, that nothing he told them would make it outside the palace walls, but the knowledge was a burden. Finally, he made his decision.
    ‘At first, my son, the few who knew of the loss – and even Mohammad himself – believed he had lost his Koran and the Scroll in the other worlds. If that had been so, we could never have gotten them back. However, as time has gone on, this has proven not to be the case. The Book and the Koran are here, in this world.’ The Ayatollah ran a hand through his son’s black hair. ‘In fact, I nearly have them within my possession.’
    ‘That is so wonderful.’ The boy smiled.
    The Ayatollah’s heart softened at the sight of his son’s excitement. ‘When I get the Book and the Scroll, Vali, I will place them in your hands and let you know the truth.’
    All his agents had to do was find the man who had the book that revealed the whereabouts of Mohammad’s Koran and the Scroll. They would. Of that, the Ayatollah was confident. They almost had him now.
    The infidel Klaus Von Volker knew no master except profit, and the Ayatollah had taken advantage of that. The man’s greed and ambition shackled him more completely than any chain.
    Then the resulting jihad would unleash a rain of holy fire that would cleanse the world. The early Muslims had spread God’s word with their swords. The Ayatollah had new weapons at his disposal, a nuclear arsenal that was being planned and built at that very moment.
    And in time, by my hand shall the unbelievers perish , he thought as he gazed fondly at his son.

7
    Deir al-Balah
    Gaza Strip
    Palestinian Territories
    July 24, 2011
    ‘Mr. Youssef.’
    Colonel Imad Davari of the Guardians of the Islamic Revolution of Iran sat at a small table at an open-air café. Darkness filled the city just beyond its lights.
    He felt naked without a sidearm, but getting one into the country with false papers was almost impossible and certainly lethal if he got caught. Thank God he was also trained to be deadly with only his hands. And he was a big, burly man used to fighting.
    The speaker was a slim man with dark, intense features. He wore a thin cotton shirt and gray cotton pants. The only hidden weapon he could possibly have was a knife.
    ‘I am Youssef.’ Davari sat calmly at the table and sipped his coffee.
    The man came forward. ‘I am Lutfi. I was sent to get you.’
    Davari pointed to the chair across from him. ‘Sit. Have a cup of coffee.’ He motioned to the waitress.
    With obvious reluctance, Lutfi obeyed. ‘I was told not to delay.’
    ‘You need to relax.’ Davari stared at the man. ‘If not, you’ll give us away to the two men following me.’
    The man started to look around, then caught himself. ‘You were followed?’
    ‘They were at the airport waiting for me.’ Even after twenty years of military experience, nine of those on the Quds Force, the extraterritorial operations arm of the Revolutionary Guard, sitting there with the men watching him had been hard for Davari. He preferred to do the watching, and he didn’t like having to trust outsiders. He worked with a team of men he’d trained, whom he knew like the back of his hand. None of them were with him now. The Ayatollah had entrusted him alone with this vital mission.
    Lutfi shook his head. ‘This meeting is over.’
    ‘If you leave so quickly, those men will follow you. Do you think there are only two of them?’
    Frustration tightened the man’s mouth. ‘You should have warned me.’
    Davari laughed. ‘Your boss is the one that wanted no radio contact on the ground.’
    ‘You could have