The 13th Enumeration (32 page)

Standing together, they slowly made their way up the steps out of Matthew’s basement. When they could see out, they carefully reconnoitered the area, both of them searching for anything that moved.

“Okay, it looks clear,” Zane said. “Let’s make our way up the hill to the parking area. It would probably be better if we stayed off the trail and came to the parking area from a different direction.”

As slowly and quietly as they could, they sneaked up to the parking area. About two hundred feet from their destination, they both saw movement at once. It was one of the men who had been sent to kill Rachael. He was leaning up against Zane’s car smoking a cigarette.

“Do you see the other two or Efran?” Zane asked in a whisper.

“I don’t see anyone else,” Rachael replied.

Zane thought for a moment. It was only a matter of time before the other two returned from wherever they had gone. A hint of light showed in the eastern sky. They needed to act now while they only had one person to deal with.

That was when Zane remembered his flashlight. It was the one thing he had allowed himself to splurge on with his money from his AQES stock. Setting down his pack, he opened it and took it out. It looked like a regular flashlight, but it was much more than that. Without its protective diffusion lens, it was a one-watt green laser. To the human eye it appeared eight thousand times brighter than the sun. Carefully, he unscrewed the wide beam filter from the end of the laser and handed it to Rachael. As quietly as he could, he explained how it worked. Entering his code, he unlocked it so all Rachael had to do was turn it on. “Give me five minutes, then turn it on and shine it in his eyes. I’ll work my way around behind him. As soon as he’s down, make a run for the car. Try to get both eyes if possible. And whatever you do, don’t look into the beam.”

Rachael looked skeptical. “You really think shining a flashlight in this guy’s eyes will work?”

Zane replied with a warm smile, “Do you trust me, Rachael?”

With a look of understanding, she said, “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Chapter 67

“We have two new contacts. They appeared out of the ground near the ruins.” Camera Four on the Heron was directed toward the newcomers. The operations supervisor’s voice continued. “We have one male and one female. IR thermal signature indicates they have spent time in a cold or wet environment.”

As the new contacts turned and the moonlight illuminated their faces, David recognized Zane and Rachael Neumann, the girl Zane had rescued from a cliff face. Jumping up from his chair, he walked over to the operations director and motioned to get his attention. The director, a look of anger on his face, waved David away.

“Sir,” David said, “that young man is Zane Harrison, and the young woman is Rachael Neumann, the antiquities director’s daughter.”

“How do you know that?” the director asked skeptically.

“Zane is a lifelong friend of mine. He’s a volunteer at the Capernaum dig. Put his name in your database. You’ll find he just entered the country a few days ago.” The supervisor entered Zane’s name in his database, and seconds later a picture of Zane appeared.

“People,” the voice called out again, “new contacts are Zane Harrison and Rachael Neumann.” He picked up the phone and dialed the number for Marcus. “Sir, I would like to send some additional resources up there. We have confirmed bad guys and a potential terrorist. If this starts to get ugly, we’ll need more manpower.”

Marcus replied, “Agreed, get two teams up here ASAP. I don’t know what’s happening down there, but let’s get prepared.”

David watched as Rachael and Zane made their way up the hill to the parking area. About two hundred feet from there, they stopped. They appeared to be talking, and Zane reached into his pack. David saw him pull out a flashlight and hand it to Rachael after a few moments. Then, stealthily, Zane made his way around behind the suspect.

“What is he doing?” David asked himself out loud. Why was Zane sneaking up on the man standing in the parking area? Obviously they didn’t want to be seen. Zane slowly made his way around behind the suspect and to the edge of the parking lot. For a minute he didn’t do anything—he just seemed to be waiting.

Over the speakers was heard, “Contacts 3 and 4 have turned around and are heading back to the parking area.” David could feel the tension building. All of a sudden, a brilliant beam of green light pierced the night air, its shimmering beam directed at Contact 2. “What the hell was that?” the operations director said involuntarily.

* * *

At the five-minute mark, Rachael pushed the power button on what she understood to be a flashlight. The moment she let off the power switch, a blinding, brilliant beam of green light shone from the end. The beam immediately got the attention of the man at the car, and Rachael steered it into his left eye, raking both his eyes with the beam. The man reacted as if he had been struck by the hand of God. He instinctively recoiled, reaching for his eyes and at the same time emitting a hair-raising scream. He began to roll and thrash on the ground. The focused beam of light, eight thousand times the brightness of the sun, hit his wide-open pupil and badly burned it. The focused energy of the beam completely overloaded the optic nerve, and he went into convulsions.

Zane made his move the moment he saw the beam of light. He covered the ground between himself and the man in just a few seconds. When he got to his car, the man was still screaming and convulsing on the ground. Clearly he was out of commission. Zane opened his car door and reached across to open the passenger door for Rachael. A few seconds later she appeared, throwing the pack over the passenger seat. Jumping into the front seat, she closed the door. Zane started the car and screeched out of the parking lot. The lights from his car revealed the other two killers just returning. Turning the wheel, he floored it and raced away.

Rachael looked out the back window a few seconds later and saw the killers
throw their companion into the back seat and
jump into their car and leave the parking lot.

“Zane,” she said, “I think they’re following us.”

Zane pushed the accelerator harder and hoped they had enough of a head start. Rachael watched as the car behind them gained. Clearly, Zane’s little compact car was no match for whatever they were driving.

“Stupid enviro-friendly cars,” Zane muttered. By the time he reached Kfar Nahum Junction, the killers’ car was only
eight
hundred feet behind them. Zane hit the turn going too fast and almost lost control.

Now on a straightaway, he again floored it. The car behind them was only two hundred feet back, and suddenly there was a flash of light and the back window shattered.

“They’re shooting at us!” Rachael yelled. She unclipped her seat belt and turned around in her seat.

Over the sound of the wind and car engine, Zane yelled, “What are you doing?”

“I am not just going to sit here and let them shoot at us,” Rachael replied. Reaching into her pocket where she had shoved it earlier, Rachael removed Zane’s laser. Another flash—this time the bullet missed. Pointing the laser out the back window, Rachael turned it on. The brilliant beam of emerald-green light again split the night sky with its shimmering brightness. Rachael held on to her seat with her left hand as she directed the laser with her right, walking the beam into the driver’s-side windshield and searching for the driver’s eyes. He tried to swerve, but he could not avoid the beam. Finally, Rachael scored a direct hit on his eyes, and the car careened off the highway, rolled, and exploded in a ball of fire.

Zane slowed down a little, his hand shaking on the wheel. “They won’t be bothering us again,” Rachael said matter-of-factly as she turned off the laser. Sitting back down in her seat, she held the laser in the palm of her hand.

Zane glanced over at her and saw that she was wide-eyed and shaken. “Rachael, why don’t you call your dad? He ought to know what is going on.”

Chapter 68

Marcus had followed the chase and subsequent explosion of the killers’ car on his smartphone video feed from the Heron. Zane Harrison and Rachael Neumann appeared to be okay. He knew they would probably proceed directly to her father and he would be able to find them there later in the day. Right now, he was going to find out exactly what Efran Finkelstein knew about Capsule 13. Marcus reflected on that for a moment. His thoughts scared him. He decided he didn’t want to know too much or he might end up dead—and that was if he was lucky.

Marcus headed down to the parking area of the Capernaum dig. Exiting his car, he looked around for any evidence the killers might have left behind. Before the other two left the parking area, they had loaded their wounded companion into the car. He doubted they would find much useful evidence in the exploded remains.

After five minutes of experienced examination of the parking area, finding little in the way of evidence, Marcus continued on to the dig camp. When he arrived, the camp staff were all gathered around in a group. In excited voices they were discussing the commotion they had heard up in the parking area. Efran Finkelstein stood among them, acting innocent and asking questions like the rest. Marcus laughed inwardly. Mr. Finkelstein was in for a rather unpleasant morning.

Then he suppressed a shudder. He knew Mr. Finkelstein would be paid a visit from the emissaries of the Guardian.

As Marcus entered the camping area, he asked, “Who’s in charge here?” The surprised group all looked to Efran.

Blustering, Efran replied, “I am in charge here. Who are you and what do you want?”

Marcus pulled out his Mossad credentials and showed them to the group. An unpleasant silence settled over the camp. To Marcus’s satisfaction, Efran had turned markedly pale. The Mossad had a heavy-handed reputation, but seldom did the innocent react with fear to their agents. Anger maybe, but seldom fear.

Efran Finkelstein was scared. When the agent showed his credentials, it was all he could do not to turn and run. What was the Mossad doing here so soon? What had happened up there in the parking lot? He’d heard the bloodcurdling scream and then the voices of Kameel and his killers. He’d caught the words “live” and “escape” and “kill them,” but nothing more. He assumed Rachael must have somehow escaped from the tunnel. Those incompetent ignoramuses! How had they let a single girl escape them? Efran had killed Zane, so he doubted Rachael knew of his involvement. Maybe he could bluff his way out of this. Members of his staff had seen him leave his tent when all the commotion started—he’d made sure not to be the first one out of his tent. He had been feeling pretty good about the events until the Mossad agent showed up just few minutes after the commotion up in the parking area. There was no way they could know of his involvement, was there?

Now that the agent was directing his attention solely at him, Efran wished he was no longer in charge. He had to hold it together. Millions of dollars of historical treasure was just a few steps away and just within reach of his greedy grasp.

“How may I help you?” Efran asked without warmth. With a disarming smile, Marcus replied, “I don’t know if you all heard the commotion in the parking lot above, but we have had a group of suspected archeological thieves under surveillance. We believe they were preparing to steal the artifacts of your dig.”

Efran, trying not to show his terror, replied, “Well, they chose the wrong dig site to steal from. We have no artifacts of any value here. In fact, this is the last day my staff and I will be here. We are closing this dig.”

With another disarming smile, Marcus replied, “That makes matters easier for all of us, then. I have two teams of investigators coming to check the area for evidence. During that time, no one will be allowed at the site. You all may go, finish packing your things, and leave. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, Mr. Finkelstein, I would like you to remain behind so that I may ask additional questions.”

Trying to hide his fear, Efran replied, “I will remain behind as you request.” Turning to the rest of his dig team he said, “Please pack your things and leave. The dig is now officially closed.”

Thirty minutes later, two additional four-member Mossad teams had arrived to secure the area. No one else was allowed on-site until the investigation was complete. By eight a.m., all of the dig staff except Efran had packed and left. Efran packed his things and sat waiting for Marcus. His terror was growing by the minute.

Finally, Marcus walked back over. “Mr. Finkelstein, would you be so kind as to accompany me to headquarters? There are some additional questions we would like to ask you.”

Efran, now no longer able to contain his fear, asked, “Why can’t we finish the questioning here? I’ve told you all I know, and I don’t see what more I can add to your investigation.”

“Mr. Finkelstein, I have been instructed to bring you in. You may accompany me willingly or by compulsion. It is your choice.”

Shaking now, Efran barely managed to get out, “I guess I have no choice in the matter.”

Stepping a few paces away to address one of the members of his investigative team, Marcus said, “Secure the area, and do not go into the underground tunnels. Leave a four-person team on-site overnight to keep watch. By tomorrow morning we will bring in additional personnel and members of the Antiquities Authority.”

Marcus walked back over to Efran. He extended his hand, indicating the parking area. “Mr. Finkelstein, if you will.”

The drive to headquarters took an hour and a half, and not a word was spoken. Marcus could tell by Efran’s body language that he was truly scared. By the time they interrogated him, he would be ready to tell all he knew. They entered the building, and Marcus ushered Efran into a small room with a table and several chairs. “Please wait here, Mr. Finkelstein. One of our interrogators will be here shortly.”

Efran shuddered at the word “interrogators,” visibly shaken. Marcus left the room and walked around the other side to look in through the one-way glass. They would leave him there to soften up for an hour more before they questioned him.

An hour later, Marcus returned to the room and sat down. “It seems that I will have to ask the questions today, Mr. Finkelstein. Mr. Awad is currently occupied. It seems he is having a challenging time getting a terrorist suspect to cooperate, if you know what I mean.” He said the last in a joking manner. “Just between you and me, I am glad Mr. Awad didn’t question you. His idea of a good interview often involves substantial amounts of pain. Anyway, that won’t be necessary, will it, Mr. Finkelstein?”

Involuntarily, Efran shook his head and stuttered, “No, Mr. Nayat, that will not be necessary.” His eyes almost begged to be believed.

Marcus directed Efran’s attention to the wall-mounted TV. Pushing a button on his remote, Marcus began to play the video feed from the Heron surveillance drone from the previous night. As Efran watched the video, the blood drained completely from his face. Immediately after the video clip showing his involvement in the preceding night’s events, the video went right into a clip showing a small brownish floating device being captured by the bakery’s magnetic field. Efran had to grab the edge of the table to keep his body from shaking out of his chair. It always surprised Marcus that criminals were the last to believe they would ever get caught.

“As you can see, Mr. Finkelstein, we have been watching you for some time.” Now his friendly tone was gone. “I would encourage you to tell me everything you know. If you do not, I am sure Mr. Awad will be glad to finish this interview for me.” All Efran could do was gape in abject horror. “If you don’t mind, let’s start in the present and work our way backwards. Tell me about the events of last night.”

Marcus paused, waiting for Efran to speak. After several attempts in which he could not say a word, he finally started to speak in a whisper; after a few moments, as if gaining strength in the telling of his treachery, he did not stop for an hour.

When he had finished, Marcus asked, “So as far as you know no, one else besides Kameel, his associates, Rachael, and Zane know of the artifacts you discovered. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“If I understood your story correctly, you did not personally see any of the artifacts—you only overheard Zane and Rachael discussing them?”

“Yes.” Efran nodded.

“Tell me again exactly what you overheard them say.”

“I had sneaked down the tunnel behind them and was about thirty feet down in the darkness when they found the artifacts. I heard th
em mention the discovery of
clay pots with scrolls in them. On a second shelf, they found many clay tablets with inscriptions in several different languages. Then, after a few minutes, I could hear them exclaim about an inscription on the opposite wall. I heard Rachael read
‘Nagad, echad,  habhab, ahabah.’
  From what I gathered, this inscription was over a three-column list of Hebrew names. The list, it seems, is similar to the one found in the first chapter of the book of Matthew from the New Testament. This list is the supposed lineage of the Christian messiah Yeshua, or Jesus.”

Writing notes as Efran spoke, Marcus looked up when he stopped. “Do you have any idea what the inscription above the list might mean?” he asked.

“No, it does not make any sense to me in the context of the list. I have no idea.”

“Do you remember anything else they might have said?”

“No, that is all I recall.”

“Okay, Mr. Finkelstein, you have been cooperative so far, and that will go well for you. I have convinced my superiors to let you go so long as you agree to work for us.” From a bag on the floor, Marcus removed a small belt. “This belt is a tracking device, Mr. Finkelstein. It will track your every movement. As a condition of working with us, you will wear this belt at all times. If at any time you attempt to remove it, a small explosive charge will detonate, and well, frankly, it will cut you in half. If at any time you attempt to run, we can remotely detonate this belt. Do you have any questions?”

Marcus’s tone was cheerful. The belt was not an explosive device, but Marcus thought it never hurt to encourage the proper respect. With this motivation, it was less likely suspects would remove the belt. At least for a while, anyway. Efran shook his head in complete resignation. The small measure of relief he had felt at the possibility of being let go was replaced with the new fear of being cut in half should the device fail. Added to these fears was the question of what they would ask of him. He knew now that his freedom was over. He would be used by the Mossad and then discarded whenever he was no longer useful. With bowed head, he sat quietly waiting.

“Please stand up, Mr. Finkelstein.” Efran stood, and Marcus snapped the belt snugly around his waist. “The belt is waterproof, and you do not have to fear it getting wet should you desire to wash or shower. You can wear it under your clothing, but just remember, unless you want to be cut in half, do not remove the belt. You are to continue your normal routine as if nothing has happened. Our director, Mr. Yadin, has contacted your superior, Mr. Neumann, and explained the situation. In case you did not know it yet, Mr. Harrison and Miss Neumann escaped safely from the underground cave and are now recuperating from their ordeal. Until further notice, you are to confine your activities to your residence in Tel Aviv and your office in Jerusalem. You are to await further instructions. Do you have any questions for me?”

Efran shook his head. Marcus indicated the door. “You may go, Mr. Finkelstein.”