The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,92
as I said, we share a common goal.”
Roe leaned back with a slight moan. “To force the hand of God. To strive to trigger Armageddon.”
“As they say, God helps those who help themselves.” Her father grinned. “I don’t know which of our groups will be proven correct when we open the gates of Hell and purge the world with fire. Will Ambassador Firat become the fabled Mahdi and help forge a new paradise out of the ashes? Or will I rise to fulfill my own destiny?”
Before Elena could ask her father what he meant by that, he waved to Elena, then Nehir. “Either way, it does seem like the hand of providence is guiding us. Look how events have united my dearest daughter with the First Daughter of Mūsā, who together will help us open those very gates?”
Elena wasn’t ready to assign the Hand of God to such a union. She wasn’t even willing to believe it was coincidence. Last night, unable to sleep, she had reevaluated her upended world. It had been her father who had encouraged her love of history, guided her into archaeology, even instilled in her a love of the sea. Had he been grooming her all along to serve his own ambitions? Had he guided her into a field where she would seek out lost knowledge, all to help him fulfill his destiny?
Which was what?
She swallowed hard. “If you’re not going to be Mahdi, what do you think you’re fated to become?”
The exalted glint grew to a fire in his eyes. He clearly had been wanting to tell her this for ages. “Jeremiah, chapter twenty-three, verse five.”
Roe shook his head. The monsignor clearly understood. Even Rabbi Fine looked sickened.
“What?” Elena asked.
Her father quoted from the Book of Jeremiah. “‘For the time is coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up a righteous descendant from King David’s line. He will be a King who rules with wisdom. He will do what is just and right throughout the land.’”
Elena understood what her father was implying. Apparently he had greater ambitions than just being the president of the United States. She stared at her father, seeing the madness behind the exaltation, the ambition behind the bloodshed.
“You intend to be King David reborn.”
2:01 P.M.
Such blasphemous kuffār . . .
Nehir scowled, deeming them all infidels for denying the blessing of God. She cast her dark gaze upon Elena Cargill. The woman’s father had declared it divine providence that had brought them together. Nehir refused to believe this, to accept being bound to this weak woman—not by fate, certainly not by Allah.
Prior to heading to Greenland, Nehir had been told that her target was a senator’s daughter, but Mūsā had never informed her that the woman’s father was a high-ranking member of the Apocalypti. As First Daughter, she should have been privy to this knowledge. She had come close to killing the woman last night after she tried to escape. If Nehir had done that, she would have been hunted down and brutally punished, most likely tortured and killed.
Only at the last moment had Mūsā told Nehir the truth, more out of necessity than anything. Afterward, he had ordered her to bring the woman to the Morning Star—Mūsā’s personal stronghold. It was normally considered an honor to walk these decks, but since setting foot here, Nehir had felt nothing but a hot anger burning in her gut, a heat that was all too familiar.
For her entire life, men had betrayed her, used their power to try to control her.
She had believed Mūsā to be different, placing her trust in him.
She clenched a fist and took a deep breath, trying to quell the flames inside her. She reminded herself that it was a minor treachery committed upon her by Mūsā, one she would strive to forgive—must forgive.
As she listened to Senator Cargill declare himself to be the heir to King David’s throne, the gall of such a claim dampened some of her fury. She knew in her heart that Mūsā would be Mahdi, the prophesied “guided one” who would lead all the Sons and Daughters to greater glory.
And as First Daughter, I will sit at Mahdi’s right hand.
Only that path—followed faithfully—would bring her dead children back to her. Still, she found it hard to stand in this room with these kuffār. Did not the holy Qur’an state clearly in Sura 8:58 that unbelievers are one’s sworn enemies?
Long ago, Nehir had asked that same question of Mūsā. He had tried to calm