Crescent Dawn (37 page)

THE LINES HAD BEEN CAST and the
Aegean Explorer
was inching away from the dock when a dilapidated yellow taxi came roaring into view. The rusty vehicle skidded to a stop at the water’s edge, the rear door flew open, and a tall, slender woman jumped out.

Pitt was standing on the bridge when he spotted his daughter running along the dock.

“It’s Summer,” he shouted to the captain. “Hold the boat.”

Pitt ran down to the main deck, ducking when a large duffel bag came flying through the air and landed at his feet. A second later, a thin pair of hands appeared on the side rail, followed by a bushel of red hair. Summer then swung her body over the side, landing on her feet on the forward deck. Pitt approached, holding her bag, and gave her a clenching hug.

“You know we were coming back to get you,” he said with a laugh.

Realizing that the ship had reversed power and was returning to the dock, Summer gave her father a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” she said, still catching her breath. “When I phoned the ship from London, Rudi told me you’d probably be here for another day or two. But when the taxi neared the dock, I saw you pulling away and panicked. I really didn’t want to miss the boat.”

Pitt turned and waved up to the bridge, indicating it was safe to depart. Then he casually escorted Summer to her cabin.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you for another few days,” he said.

“I took an earlier flight from London and figured it would be easier to catch you here in Çanakkale coming from Istanbul.” Her face turned somber as she said, “I heard about your shipwreck . . . and what happened to Tang and Iverson.”

“We’ve had our share of trouble and excitement,” he replied as they entered her cabin and he placed her bag on the bunk. “Why don’t we go grab a coffee in the wardroom, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I’d like that, Dad. Then I can tell you all about what I’ve been up to in England.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a mystery of your own?” he asked, smiling.

Summer gave her father an earnest gaze, then replied, “One bigger than you could ever imagine.”

S
OPHIE, I THINK I MAY HAVE A HOT ONE FOR YOU.”

Sam Levine nearly tripped as he burst into the Director of Antiquities’ office. The cuts and bruises on his face from the incident at Caesarea had mostly healed, but he still carried a large scar on his cheek from the encounter with the Arab thieves. Sophie was seated at her desk, studying a Tel Aviv police report on a grave looting, but looked up with interest.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“One of our network informants, an Arab boy named Tyron, reports a possible dig tonight in the Muslim cemetery at Kidron.”

“Kidron? That’s just over the wall from the Old City. Somebody’s getting rather brazen.”

“If it is even true. Tyron has had a spotty track record when it comes to tips.”

“Who is supposedly turning the shovels?”

“I only got one name out of him, a petty thief named Hassan Akais,” Sam replied, sliding into a chair opposite Sophie’s desk.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Sophie replied after contemplating the name. “Should I know him?”

“We picked him up a few years ago on a raid at Jaffa. We didn’t have enough on him to press charges, so he was let go. Seems to have kept his hands clean since then. He’s been paying our informant to tend some sheep, and apparently the boy overheard talk of an operation tonight.”

“It sounds like small fish to me.”

“I thought so, too. But then there’s this,” Sam said, handing Sophie a computer printout. “I ran his name through the system and, lo and behold, the Mossad suspects him of having possible links to the Mules.”

Sophie leaned forward and studied the paper with heightened interest.

“His links appear a bit tenuous, at best,” Sam added, “but I thought you would want to know.”

Sophie nodded as she finished reading the report but neglected to pass it back to Sam.

“I would like to talk to this Hassan,” she finally replied in a measured tone.

“We’re a bit thin for an operation tonight. Lou and the gang are in Haifa until tomorrow, and Robert is home sick with the flu.”

“Then it will just have to be you and me, Sammy. Any objections?”

Sam shook his head. “If this guy had anything to do with Caesarea, then I want him, too.”

They made their plans for the evening rendezvous, then Sam rose and left the office. Sophie had resumed reading the police report when she suddenly felt someone staring at her. She looked up in surprise to see Dirk, standing outside her doorway, holding a large bouquet of lilacs in his hand.

“Pardon me, I’m looking for the chief gunslinger around here,” he said with a radiant smile.

Sophie practically leaped out of her chair.

“Dirk, I didn’t think you’d be free until next week,” she said, hopping over and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“The university suspended the excavation at Caesarea for the season, so I guess my work is through for now,” he said, placing the flowers on her desk. He then grabbed her in a tight embrace and kissed her. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Sophie felt her skin flush, then remembered her office door was open.

“I can take a short break,” she stammered. “Shall we go have lunch?”

As soon as he nodded, she led him away from the prying eyes of the office and into a nearby courtyard.

“I know a beautiful spot to picnic in the Old City. We can grab something to eat along the way,” she offered.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “I haven’t seen much of Jerusalem. A walk in the streets is always the best way to capture the essence of an interesting city.”

Sophie grabbed his hand and led him off the manicured grounds of the Rockefeller Museum. Just a short distance away stood Herod’s Gate, one of a handful of entry points into Jerusalem’s Old City. Roughly a mile square, the Old City is the religious heart of Jerusalem, containing the historical landmarks of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Western Wall, and the Dome of the Rock. An imposing stone wall constructed by the Ottoman Turks over four hundred years ago runs in a complete perimeter around the historic section.

Walking through the gate and into the Muslim Quarter, Dirk admired the aged beauty of the cut limestone, which seemed to be the basis of every monument, business, and residence in the city no matter how shabby or dilapidated. But he was more amused watching the diverse population making their way through the narrow streets and alleys. Spotting an Armenian Jew waiting for a crossing light beside an Ethiopian in a white robe and a Palestinian wearing a
keffiyeh
, he realized that he was treading on a patch of ground unique in all the world.

Sophie guided him down a dark and dusty alley that led to a bustling open-air market called, in Arabic, a
souk
. She expertly navigated their way past a throng of vendors, stopping to purchase some falafel, lamb kebabs, sweet cakes, and a bag of fruit from the assorted hawkers.

“You said you wanted some local flavor, so here it is,” Sophie teased, making Dirk carry their ad hoc lunch.

She led him down a few more blocks, then crossed onto the grounds of the St. Anne’s Church. A graceful stone structure built by the Crusaders, its location in the heart of the Muslim Quarter represented one of the many peculiar juxtapositions to be found in the ancient city.

“A nice Jewish girl is taking me to a Christian church?” Dirk asked with a chuckle.

“We’re actually headed to the grounds in back of the church. A place that I thought an underwater explorer might enjoy visiting. In addition to the fact,” she added with a wink, “it’s a lovely spot for a picnic.”

They entered the property and made their way to the rear grounds, where they found an open area shaded by mature sycamore trees. A trail led a short distance to a fenced chasm that dropped away like an open mine. Remnants of brick walls, stone columns, and ancient arches rose from the dry base of the cavity.

“This was the original Pool of Bethesda,” Sophie said as they peered down into the now-dusty depths. “It was originally a reservoir for the First and Second Temples, then baths were later constructed. Of course, it was better known as a healing center after it was written that Jesus cured an invalid here. There’s not much water left, I’m afraid.”

“Probably just as well,” Dirk replied. “Otherwise, it would be wall-to-wall tourists vying to take a bath.”

They found a secluded bench beneath a towering sycamore, where they sat down and attacked their lunch, passing the delicacies back and forth.

“Tell me, how is Dr. Haasis getting on?” she asked.

“Quite well, actually. I just visited him this morning before traveling to Jerusalem. He’s resting at home but eager to get back to work. The leg wound didn’t prove serious, so he should be free of his crutches in another week or two.”

“The poor fellow. I feel so sorry for him.”

“He told me he feels bad for you. He seems to think it was his fault that your agents were placed in such a dangerous situation.”

Sophie shook her head. “That is ridiculous. He had no way of knowing an armed band of terrorists would attack any more than we did.”

“He’s a man with a generous soul,” Dirk said, sampling a fresh fig from the bag of fruit. “By the way, the Israeli Security Agency grilled me pretty good over the last few days. I hope you can tell me that you’re close to catching the bad guys.”

“Shin Bet, as they are known, has taken the lead on the investigation, but I’m afraid the trail of evidence has already turned cold. The assailants’ truck was found to be a stolen vehicle. It was discovered driven into the sea near Nahariyya. Shin Bet thinks that the thieves likely crossed into Lebanon shortly after departing Caesarea. They are believed to be connected with a smuggling operation that has known ties to Hezbollah. I fear they will be difficult to identify, let alone capture.”

“Any idea who they might have been working for?”

“Not really. I’ve made plenty of inquiries and have a few suspicions, but no hard proof. Sam and I are doing everything we can,” she said, her voice drifting away as her thoughts turned to the dead agent Holder.

Dirk reached over and clasped her hand in his and squeezed tight.

“I never thought I’d have to deal with something like this,” she continued, falling teary-eyed.

She looked into Dirk’s eyes and squeezed his hand back. “I’m really glad that you are here,” she said, then leaned over and kissed him.

They sat huddled for a long while, Sophie feeling safe again in the arms of Dirk. Staring at the empty pools of Bethesda, she eventually regained the will to face her job again. Taking a deep breath, she smiled through moist eyes.

“Can you smell the jasmine in the air?” she asked. “I’ve always loved the fragrance. It reminds me of when I was a child, and all the days were filled with happiness.”

“They will be again,” Dirk promised.

“I must be getting back,” she finally whispered, though her arms retained their lock around Dirk.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he replied.

She suddenly remembered the planned operation with Sam that night.

“We can have dinner, but I’m afraid I have to work tonight. A surveillance job. We received a tip about an artifact thief who might be connected to the Lebanese smugglers.”

“May I come along?”

Sophie started to shake her head, then relented. “We are a bit shorthanded. It’s just Sam and me, so we could use some extra support. But no heroics this time.”

“A silent observer, that’s me. I promise,” he said, smiling.

They rose together and took a final look at the dry pools. Sophie felt a sudden hesitancy to leave, though she didn’t know why. She finally gathered Dirk’s hand and led him slowly away from the pools, fighting a swirl of emotions within her heart.

T
HE
OTTOMAN STAR
CREPT SLOWLY INTO THE ISRAELI Port of Haifa, the decrepit freighter relegated to a berth at the end of the quiet west terminal. With only a small quantity of remaining textiles to off-load, the Turkish crew could have easily emptied the ship’s holds in a few hours. But they were under strict orders to procrastinate unloading so that work would not be completed until late in the evening.

Presenting a pair of fake passports at the port’s customs office, Maria and one of the Janissaries then rented a car and made their way out of Haifa. Posing as a married couple on holiday, they could travel through most of the country with limited scrutiny. But in making their way to Jerusalem, they took no chances. Maria drove a circuitous route to avoid entering the West Bank and being subjected to additional security checkpoints, which might find the fanny pack under her seat containing a gun, cash, and a pair of night vision goggles.