“Three more murders,” Zadok explained.
“Where?”
“Eli Mordechai’s house.”
“What? When?” asked Doron, standing.
“We just found them, but the bodies have been there most of the night.”
“Are they connected to the other killings last night?”
“Ballistics is running tests right now. We should know soon. But yes, we believe they’re connected to the killings at the café in the Jewish Quarter and to the others in the Arab market a short while later. We’re just not sure how yet.”
“Have you found any witnesses?”
“The police are canvassing the neighborhood, but nothing so far.”
“Keep me up to speed, Avi. I want reports every fifteen minutes.”
* * *
Lucente looked the Iraqi president in the eye.
“I’m not sure if I can deliver on the Temple Mount.”
But Al-Hassani didn’t believe him. “Do not take me for a fool, Salvador. I know Mogande is dying. I know you’re angling for the secretary-general position. And I know you have almost all the votes you need to be nominated—almost. But my sources tell me that China is threatening to veto you unless you get oil flowing out of the Middle East again. Which means you need a deal with me, and you need it quick.”
“And you trust these sources?” Lucente asked.
“With my life,” Al-Hassani said firmly.
Lucente turned and looked out across Babylon, glowing in the morning sun. “Very well, you are correct,” he confirmed. “China would be more supportive if I can help them with their energy needs.
“So, no deal with me, no job for you?” asked Al-Hassani.
“Not quite, my friend,” Lucente countered. “As I said before, if you don’t cut a deal favorable to the global powers, I assure you, I will be the least of your worries. But on one thing you are correct: I am in more of a bargaining mood than the rest of the Security Council. So let me be clear: if you cut a deal with me, one that I can announce to the rest of the world, I will guarantee you Russia’s seat on the Security Council.”
Al-Hassani leaned back in his seat. “And the rest?”
“Everything but the Temple Mount.”
“Come, come, Salvador,” said Al-Hassani, lighting his pipe again. “You can do better than that.”
“I cannot guarantee the internationalization of the Temple Mount, Mr. President,” Lucente responded. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Israel has just become an economic superpower. Even if you can get oil flowing out of the Gulf again in the next three to six months, most of the world will still be buying most of their oil from Medexco. They have us over a barrel, Mustafa, literally. My hands are tied.”
Al-Hassani grew angry. “You want to be the secretary-general? You want to bring about global peace and prosperity? Then how can you, of all people, even consider for one moment the notion of the Jews building the Temple on land sacred to all Middle Easterners? Do you not know what that will unleash?”
“I never said I favored the idea,” Lucente insisted. “I’m just being honest with you. I don’t know if I can stop it. But I can promise you this: I will try.”
* * *
As soon as Lucente left, Khalid Tariq rushed into the room.
“Your Excellency, it’s Mariano. He says it’s urgent.”
Al-Hassani accepted the call. “What is it, Viggo?”
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Alonzo and Scarpetti are dead. So is Miletto. Bennett and his wife killed them and took their car.”
“What about the Barak girl? Did they get her, at least?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What? How could this have happened? You assured me both Baraks would be dead by now, did you not?”
“I said it might take a few days.”
“And it’s been a few days,” countered Al-Hassani. “Where are they now?”
“They’re on the run,” said Mariano. “I don’t know where. But at this point there are only two realistic options.”
“I’m listening.”
“First, they’re fleeing the country, in which case they’ll go dark and we won’t find them until they choose to pop back up on the grid.”
“And the other?”
“They know where the Key Scroll is, and they’re on their way to get it.”
Al-Hassani’s face turned dark red. “You cannot let that happen, Viggo. You must stop them, whatever it takes.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” said Mariano. “I’ve got another team in Cyprus. I’ve already called them. They should be in Tel Aviv by nightfall. In the meantime, I’ll try to contact our mole and see if I can pick up their trail.”
“You had better, Viggo. Or I will have your head on a platter.”
39
THURSDAY, JANUARY 15 – 9:53 a.m. – THE ROAD TO TIBERIAS
Bennett glanced back in his rearview mirror.
Natasha was staring out the window. Her eyes were red and there were smudges of mascara on her cheeks.
He looked at Erin, who was poring over a map, no doubt planning a route to the Golan and several escape routes back. The three of them had been driving in near silence for almost forty-five minutes. They would be in Tiberias any minute. Perhaps it was time to break the ice.
“You okay?” he asked, again looking into the rearview mirror.
Natasha wiped her eyes but did not look up. “I guess.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
Erin set her map down and turned to Natasha. “I would like to have gotten to know your grandfather more.”
Natasha nodded. “You would have liked him.”
“I already did.”
They drove in silence another few minutes. Then, still gazing out the window at farmland covered with oil wells, Natasha said, “He was convinced he was going to live to see the Temple rebuilt. For most of my life, I thought he was crazy. Even when I was studying to follow in his footsteps, I thought his obsession with the Temple and the Ark was all a little much.”
It was quiet again for a few minutes; then Natasha picked up the thought.
“It’s funny,” she said softly. “I thought of archeology as the study of the past, but my grandfather always said it was about the future. ‘What good is digging up relics today if it doesn’t affect how we live tomorrow?’ he used to say. To him, finding the Temple treasures wasn’t simply about proving that the Jews controlled Jerusalem thousands of years ago. It was about setting into motion the building of the Third Temple and thus fulfilling the words of the Hebrew prophets.”
“But you didn’t buy it?” asked Erin.
“He was the zealot in the family, not me. After my parents died, I decided there couldn’t be a God so capricious that He would leave me and millions of other children around the world orphaned. But my grandfather never gave up on me. He wanted me to be a believer.”
* * *
Again they drove for a while in silence.
Then Jon spoke up. “Forgive me, Natasha, but I’m curious. What exactly do Jewish people believe when it comes to rebuilding the Temple?”
In some ways, Natasha dreaded the question. It had been a mistake to say anything. She would have preferred to suffer in silence. But then again, her grandfather had taught her well, and perhaps the chance to pass along some of his knowledge would help keep her mind off of how utterly alone she felt without him.
“That’s like asking Christians what they think about the pope,” she replied. “Ask a Catholic and you’ll get one answer. Ask the Greek or Russian Orthodox, and you’ll get quite another. Everything depends on your point of view.”
“I’ve heard some people say the building of the Temple will precede the coming of the Messiah,” Erin said. “Others say the Messiah will build it Himself.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” Natasha replied. “It’s been an age-old debate. Even
some of our wisest sages were confused. Read Maimonides. At various points, he made the case for both sides. But the truth is, until the last few months, most Israelis—secular ones, anyway—didn’t believe the Temple would ever be rebuilt, nor did they much care. With the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aksa Mosque there, it just seemed impossible. Obviously, religious Jews—particularly the Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox—believed it would happen, though most couldn’t imagine how.
“That said, ever since we reunified Jerusalem and took control of the Temple Mount in 1967, the movement to rebuild has certainly been growing from just a handful of true believers into a very powerful force. They’ve been publishing books and holding conferences about it. They’ve been making implements for Temple service and training priests in Temple rituals. And then came October 13, 2004.”
“What happened then?” asked Bennett.
They were now approaching the outskirts of the city, and Natasha could see the Sea of Galilee glistening in the morning sun.
“That was the day the Sanhedrin was reconvened—right here in Tiberias, actually—for the first time in over 1,600 years.”
“The Sanhedrin?” Erin asked, astonished. “The same one that condemned Jesus and sent Him to Pilate, hoping the Romans would execute Him?”
“Well, most Jews don’t exactly think of that as the group’s defining moment, but yes, that’s the one,” said Natasha. “The original Sanhedrin was the governing religious council of the Temple, made up of the seventy-one most prominent rabbis in the country. They met in the Temple. They oversaw its daily life and practice. After Jerusalem was sacked and the Temple destroyed in the year 70, the Sanhedrin went underground. They were convinced the city and the sanctuary would be rebuilt. They were convinced the Messiah would come and make it all right, and they believed it would all happen soon. But years turned into decades and decades into centuries, and around the year 425, those who were running the council finally gave up hope, and the Sanhedrin disbanded.”
“Until 2004,” said Erin.
“That’s right,” said Natasha. “That’s when the Sanhedrin was reconvened. But that was only the beginning. On June 6, 2005, the Sanhedrin made news again—big news, actually, at least in our house. I remember their statement verbatim because my grandfather drilled it into my head, night and day. ‘The Sanhedrin calls upon all groups who work in the area of Temple and Temple Mount–related research and activity to begin to prepare detailed architectural plans for the construction of the Holy Temple, towards the goal of its establishment in its proper place. The Sanhedrin will establish a forum of architects and engineers whose goal will be to implement this decision, so that detailed working plans are effectively brought to an operational stage.’
“That’s when I began to sit up and take notice of all this Temple talk,” Natasha confided. “Because it suddenly seemed like the train was really leaving the station. Now remember, this was all long before the War of Gog and Magog. Few people in Israel realized what was coming or that the Muslim holy sites were going to be destroyed in a firestorm. But we still knew the rebirth of the Sanhedrin and the call to prepare detailed plans for the Temple were dramatic developments. Even me. And in my grandfather’s eyes, they were prophetic ones. Why? Because it meant a significant shift had occurred in Jewish thinking. No longer did the majority of rabbis in Israel believe the Messiah would come and build the Temple. Now they believed that they were required to build the Temple themselves, in the last days, and then the Messiah would come.”
A few moments later, they found Ehad Ha’am Street, and Natasha tapped Bennett on the shoulder and pointed. “That one,” she said. “That’s my cousin’s house—the big one on the left.”
40
THURSDAY, JANUARY 15 – 10:10 a.m. – TIBERIAS, ISRAEL
They pulled into the driveway.
“What did you say your cousin does?” Erin asked.
It was an enormous house, with gardens surrounding it and a spacious two-car garage, all newly built on a cliff overlooking the Sea of Galilee.
“She’s the new VP of marketing for Medexco,” said Natasha. “Miriam Gozal. Do you know her?”
Neither Jon nor Erin did, but it reminded them both that they ought to give Dmitri Galishnikov a call when the coast was clear. They had just seen him at the wedding, and he would no doubt be mourning Mordechai’s death.
“It doesn’t look like anyone is here,” said Bennett after ringing the doorbell several times and peering in the vestibule window and seeing no one.
“She might be in Europe,” Natasha said. “For the life of me I don’t know why she bought this place. She’s never here.”
They pulled the Mercedes into the garage and began poking around the enormous, three-level home. It had seven bedrooms, four bath-rooms, a gorgeous new Italian kitchen, a huge office on the top floor, and no sign that anyone lived there but the cousin. Each floor had a wrap-around balcony. On one of them Natasha paused, staring out over the small but growing city of Tiberias below them and the Golan Heights on the other side of the sea. Not wanting to leave her alone, the Bennetts remained with her for a while, trying to enjoy the view despite all that had happened.
“You look like you have another question, Jon,” Natasha said softly.
“I’m fine.”
“Really, it’s okay. I’d rather answer your questions than wallow in my grief.”
“Well, it’s just that I’m still curious about the Temple treasures and the Ark.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, besides all these theories that you and your grandfather and these ex-CIA guys have about the Copper Scroll, does the Bible actually say they’ll ever be found? Is that in any of the prophecies, or is this just . . . ?”
“Just what?” Natasha asked. “A fool’s errand?”
Bennett shrugged.
“You mean, is this thing really worth risking your life for?” said Natasha.
“Right.”
“Ever read Jeremiah 27:21-22?” she asked.
“I don’t remember,” said Bennett.
“I have a Bible,” Erin said. She pulled one out of her purse and looked up the passage.
Yes, thus says the LORD of hosts,
the God of Israel, concerning
the vessels that are left
in the house of the LORD
and in the house of the
king of Judah and in Jerusalem,
“They will be carried to Babylon
and they will be there
until the day I visit them,”
declares the LORD.
“Then I will bring them back
and restore them to this place.”
“See that?” said Natasha, looking out over the water. “God promised to watch over the Temple treasures and ‘restore them’ to the Jewish people when the next Temple was to be rebuilt. What’s more, He kept that promise.”
“You’re saying if God restored the treasures once, He’ll do it again?” asked Erin.
“That’s what most rabbis believe,” said Natasha. “That’s certainly what my grandfather believed. So did Uncle Eli.”
“And the Ark?” asked Bennett. “Is that all Hollywood, or is there really a snowball’s chance somebody’s going to find it someday?”
“I think we’re really going to find it,” said Natasha.
“Is the Ark mentioned in the Copper Scroll?” Erin wondered.
“Actually, no, not once,” said Natasha. “Most scholars would tell you there’s no connection. After all, you have to remember that the Ark was never in the Second Temple, so it seems unlikely that it would have been hidden away with the other Temple treasures.”
“Then why are you so confident?”
“A few reasons,” said Natasha. “Remember the Temple Scroll we saw back at the museum? The really long one?”
The Bennetts nodded.
“It’s actually the longest of the Dead Sea Scrolls. But more important, it lays out remarkably detailed plans fo
r the Third Temple and describes the First and Second Temple vessels and furnishings all being present and accounted for, including the Ark.”
“Really?” asked Bennett. “What does it say?”
Natasha closed her eyes and drew up the words from deep within her soul.
“And two cherubim you shall make
at both ends of the cover,
the one cherub on this end,
and the other end the second,
spreading their wings over
the place of the Ark,
and shielding the cover with
their wings above the Ark,
with their faces one to the other.”
“That’s fascinating,” said Erin. “Are there any Scriptures to back that up?”
“There are,” said Natasha, “Take a look at 2 Chronicles 35:3.”
Erin quickly found the passage and read it aloud.
“King Josiah also said to the Levites,
who taught all Israel and
who were holy to the LORD:
‘Put the holy ark in the house
which Solomon the son of David
king of Israel built; it will be
a burden on your shoulders no longer.
Now serve the LORD your God
and His people Israel.’”
“Now, what does that tell us?” asked Natasha. “It tells us that when men did evil in the sight of the Lord—like erecting an idol in the Holy of Holies, which King Manasseh did in 2 Chronicles 33—the priests who were still faithful to God actually removed the Ark from the Temple to keep it from being desecrated. They kept it hidden, possibly on the move, for years, until it was safe to bring it back. And then, when Josiah cleaned up the corruption of the Temple and turned the people’s hearts back to God, he ordered the Ark brought back to the Temple, and the priests readily complied.
“Many Jewish scholars, and not a few Christian ones, see this passage as a precedent, proof that if God once protected the Ark and then made way for it to be ‘rediscovered,’ as it were, then He will do it again when the time for the Third Temple has come. But the passage that really got Uncle Eli excited a few weeks ago was Haggai 2:6-9.”