‘And when Allah said: O Jesus! I will take you and raise you to Myself and clear you of those who disbelieve, and I will make those who follow you superior to those who disbelieve till the Day of Resurrection. Then you (Believers and disbelievers) will return to Me and I will judge between you in the matter in which you used to dispute. And he shall rise on the day he was born, scorched altars, numbering his resurrection, burned.’ 93:241

Jax was pretty sure what the number of the resurrection would turn out to be. He hastily banged a new search into Google and clicked on the first result.

The number 8 is very significant, such that it is used seventy-three times in the Bible. It is the symbol of resurrection and regeneration. In Bible numerology, 8 means new beginning; it denotes ‘a new order or creation, and man’s true “born again” event when he is resurrected from the dead into eternal life’.

The madman behind the attacks had turned a Quranic verse into an action plan. He believed he could resurrect Christ by destroying eight scorched altars – in the form of eight previously attacked churches.

But where was the eighth church?

THE BEAST was waiting for him. Rather than reflect the sun, the black blast-proof steel of the Cadillac XT6 seemed to devour it.

‘Good morning, Mr President,’ said Agent Neil Wallace as he stood by the open door, wearing shades as black as his suit.

The President did not even acknowledge Wallace, the senior US Secret Service agent in charge of the protective detail for the presidential motorcade. He never did.

‘Merry Christmas,’ the First Lady said with a smile as she followed President Forrester into the plush tan leather of the oversized back seat. ‘Make sure you take time out to call that beautiful wife of yours. Her name is June, right?’

Wallace confirmed his wife’s name and said he would comply, before closing the door. ‘Package is secure,’ he said, directing his voice into the small radio receiver on his lapel.

The President and the First Lady were now sealed in an airtight chamber with their own oxygen supply and protected by almost 10,000 kilograms of ballistic armour. The Cadillac looked similar to all the other Presidential limousines Wallace had seen during his eighteen years on the job: big, black, and bulletproof. But the Beast was far superior to its predecessors. Capable of withstanding a biological attack, the 6.7-metre-long vehicle could deploy a smokescreen, cover the road with an oil slick, and shoot canisters of tear gas. Wallace had never had to order the use of any of these defensive measures, and hoped he never would.

Wallace nodded as he walked past the next vehicle in the convoy, today totalling twenty-eight cars. Sometimes there could be as many as forty vehicles accompanying the Presidential vehicle, but this was a low-threat route.