The 13th Enumeration (33 page)

Chapter 69

Rachael picked up Zane’s cell phone from the pocket of the dashboard. Her father answered on the first ring. “Abba,” Rachael exclaimed with a mixture of joy and relief.

“Rachael, my dear, it is so good to hear your voice! I have been so worried about you.”

“Abba, oh Abba, you will . . . we will . . .” Rachael struggled as she tried to get out all her thoughts at the same time.

Her father interrupted her. “Dear, I just received a call from Chief Yadin of the Mossad. He explained most of what has happened and told me you are likely on your way here. They have been following your car with one of their surveillance drones. You can wait to explain everything until you get here. But you are okay, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Abba, we’re both okay. But Abba, we discovered an incredible trove of scrolls and artifacts. Someone needs to secure the site.”

“You discovered additional artifacts at the site?”

“Yes, an incredible cache . . . scrolls, clay tablets, and an amazing inscription across one wall. The site needs to be guarded to protect the finds.”

“Dear, Chief Yadin assured me the site will be under guard by the Mossad until an investigation is completed. No one will be allowed in until then. We may get special permission to go back in tomorrow or the next day. Do not worry about it right now. The most important thing is that you are okay. When you get here, we will discuss how to proceed with this discovery. Is there anything I can get ready for you? Are you hungry?”

She sighed and closed her eyes, letting some the intensity go out of her voice. “Yes, Abba, very hungry. I’m sure Zane is as well. Most of all I am tired, though.”

“Be careful, and I’ll see you in a little while then. Breakfast will be waiting.”

Rachael put the phone down and looked over at Zane. “My dad says the Mossad was watching us the whole time by camera from one of their surveillance drones. They have the area secured.” Pointing out the window, Rachael said with a hint of something more, “Take that exit and head for Jerusalem. I’m taking you home to see my father.”

With greater relief creeping across her face, she continued, “You know, Zane, it will take months if not years to properly preserve and examine the artifacts we found at the site. This could be one of the greatest discoveries in the land of Israel in our lifetime. I know I’m jumping to conclusions right now, but the inscription on the wall was probably written by the New Testament Matthew. That inscription has been almost perfectly preserved for almost two thousand years. I can’t wait to get back to examine it.”

Rachael continued to talk as the miles sped by. Her talking about the find seemed to relieve both their stress. Every now and then Zane would glance over at her, and he could tell by the excited glow on her face she was no longer thinking about the ordeal they had just experienced—she was lost in the world of their discovery. About thirty minutes later she suddenly stopped, and Zane looked over at her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

With an embarrassed expression she replied, “I just realized I’ve been talking nonstop for over thirty minutes. Hope it hasn’t bothered you.”

Zane smiled with genuine warmth. “Rachael, your words and excitement over the discovery were just what I needed to relax. I was wound up so tight I was about to break. Please continue . . . listening to you is also keeping me alert and awake.”

She nodded, her own eyes shining with appreciation and warmth. For the next half-hour she talked about the discovery and what needed to be done. She speculated about what they might find and how they should proceed. Finally they entered the suburbs of Jerusalem, and she directed him to her house. They pulled up to the door and stopped. Rachael got out, and looking back into the car where Zane sat, she said, “Come on, Zane Harrison, let me introduce you to my father.”

Zane got out and accompanied her to the door. Just as she reached to turn the handle, the door opened and her father stood in the doorway. “Rachael!” he said. “I’m so glad you are all right, my dear.”

With tears in her eyes, she walked into his arms and returned his hug without reservation. They both stood there for some time, oblivious to the world around them, until Mr. Neumann remembered Zane standing there. Still holding Rachael in his left arm, he extended his right and said, “Mr. Harrison, I presume. Welcome to our home. Please come in.”

Ushering them into the house, they walked back to the kitchen. On the table was a large breakfast. There was
labaneh,
a homemade yogurt cheese,
shakshouka,
a spiced egg and tomato dish, vegetable salad and traditional cheese salad and
rugelach
pastries. In large cups was steaming hot Turkish coffee. Rachael laughed when she saw the feast. “You must have thought you were going to feed an army, Abba. It looks delicious.”

Smiling, Jacob Neumann replied, “I didn’t know how hungry you were, and I wasn’t sure what young Mr. Harrison here would want to eat, so I thought I would cover all the bases.”

Looking at Zane he said, “I’m not sure what you are used to eating, Mr. Harrison. I hope you find something here to your taste.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m not a particular eater. What you have here looks delicious. Thank you for the consideration.”

“If you would like to wash your hands, you can use the sink there,” Mr. Neumann continued, indicating the kitchen sink. “Down the hall and to the right is the restroom if you prefer.” Rachael excused herself for a minute, and Zane walked over to the kitchen sink. Turning on the faucet, he found the soap and washed his hands and arms. A few minutes later Rachael returned. She looked like a different person. She had washed up and brushed her hair and slipped on a skirt and a new blouse. She had an infectious smile that almost covered her exhaustion.

As she reentered the room, Zane couldn’t help but smile. Rachael Neumann was a truly beautiful young woman. Standing up, he held a chair for her, and with a peculiar expression he did not recognize, she sat down, thanking him.

Mr. Neumann rejoined them and looked at Rachael. “Rachael, would you care to give thanks?”

Rachael nodded and bowed her head, and in Hebrew she prayed, “Father in heaven, we thank you for your protection tonight. Thank you for this food and the guest within our midst.” For Zane’s benefit she added, “Amen.”

Everyone was silent as they ate. Rachael and Zane were especially hungry. After satisfying their appetites, they sat and discussed the night’s events once again, Mr. Neumann asking questions now and then. For the most part, Zane just listened. The food and warmth of the home relaxed him and made him sleepy.

Chapter 70

London, England

Sir Peter Herschel picked up the phone on the second ring. “Yes,” he answered.

“It’s Tacitus, sir, and I have more information for you. Contact 13 is Efran Finkelstein, a member of the Israeli Antiquities Authority dig staff. He has been in charge of a dig in Capernaum for several months now. He has been sending information to an as-yet-unknown contact. He is a petty criminal trying to sell Israeli antiquities. It seems two of the people on his dig team made a huge discovery yesterday, and Mr. Finkelstein attempted to kill them so he could steal the artifacts and sell them. He communicates with his secret contact by means of the electronic devices via the sewer system.”

The silent voice on the other end of the phone line finally spoke. “Did Mr. Finkelstein describe any of the artifacts?”

“He did not get a chance to see any of them; he only overheard Rachael Neumann and Zane Harrison discussing the find. He related to me no specifics other than many ancient scrolls and clay tablets. Oh, and on one wall, four words were carved above a list of names. It appears to be a Hebrew version of a list found in the first chapter of the New Testament book of Matthew. The four words do not appear to make any sense. It may be a code of some sort.” With a pause as if he was reading notes, Marcus said,
“‘Nagad, echad,  habhab, ahabah.’
Literally translated, that means ‘tell one sacrifice loved.’ Mr. Finkelstein provided no other information of interest.”

The voice came through the line, cold, sinister, and direct. “Mr. Nayat, how many people know of this inscription and the artifacts?”

Marcus shuddered, realizing the Guardian had used his proper name and not his code name. “Sir, as far as we know right now, only Efran Finklestein, Rachael Neumann, Zane Harrison, and possibly Rachael Neumann’s father know. They drove directly to her father’s house when they left the dig site. The dig has been cordoned off, and no one is allowed in until an investigation has been completed. It will likely be closed until at least tomorrow.”

“Thank you for the information, Mr. Nayat; it has been very helpful. Your assistance will not be forgotten. Please keep me posted on any new developments. Good day.”

For some reason, Marcus did not feel reassured by the appreciative tone of the Guardian. It almost felt as if the lion was thanking the gazelle just before eating its bloody meal. For the first time, Marcus Nayat felt real fear. What would happen when the Guardian had all the information he needed from him? Would he be the last loose end to be cleaned up?

When Sir Peter Herschel hung up the phone, he sat thinking for several minutes. Peter Herschel had recognized the symbolic nature of the coded words instantly. There was no doubt in his mind that when the discovery of the inscription was made public, someone would figure out the code, and it would lead them to the discovery of the secret—of the 13
th
Enumeration. That event was unacceptable, for they were not ready yet. The world was not ready yet.

Picking up the phone, he dialed a number. Two-thousand-two-hundred-and-eleven miles away in a safe house in Israel, Anton Ramirez answered. After the coded introduction, Peter Herschel continued giving precise instructions for several minutes. When he had finished, Anton’s voice, heavy with anticipation and excitement, replied, “It will be my pleasure, sir.”

The line went dead, and Peter Herschel knew his emissaries were on the hunt once again. His angel of death was loose in the land of Israel.

* * *

At seven a.m., Ms. Ulatowski came to the operations center to take David to his lodgings. He knew he didn’t have a choice even if he wanted to stay. But he didn’t want to stay. He wanted to call Zane to make sure he was okay. He knew Zane was probably pretty shook up right now. Thankfully, he understood they were at Mr. Neumann’s house and everyone was fine.

As soon as David was back in his room, he dialed Zane’s cell number. The phone rang five times before voice mail picked up.

“Zane, I heard what happened last night. Hope you are okay. Give me a call when you get this message.”

David hung up and sat at the edge of his bed, wondering what all he had witnessed the past twelve hours was about. He knew Efran was somehow associated with the terrorist network that had attacked New York, but what would a terrorist organization want with an archeologist? What had really taken place last night, anyway? Why had those men been chasing Zane and Rachael? What had they found underground at the dig? Maybe Zane could supply him with more pieces of the puzzle.

Taking off his shoes, he undressed and lay down. He had been up for more than twenty-four hours, and he was exhausted. A few seconds after his head touched the pillow, he was asleep.

Chapter 71

As Zane’s head nodded sleepily, a giggle from Rachael brought him back fully awake. “It looks like our conversation has put Mr. Harrison to sleep.”

Zane, slightly embarrassed, replied, “I guess I’m pretty tired.”

Mr. Neumann stood and said, “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing our guestroom for you, Mr. Harrison.”

“Thank you,” Zane answered, relieved. “I really appreciate that. I’m not sure how far I would get, as tired as I feel.”

“Off the guestroom is a bathroom and shower. There are fresh towels in the cabinet. Please make yourself at home.”

Zane looked appreciative. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I will get a few things from my car. Good night, and thank you, Mr. Neumann, and Rachael, for your hospitality.” He left the table and went out to his car to retrieve a change of clothes. When he opened the trunk, he remembered he had left his clothes and other things in his tent back at the dig site. Well, he would just have to make do. After a hot, relaxing shower, he hand-washed his clothes and wrung them out. Taking them with him into his room, he hung them up to dry as best as he could. Lying down on the bed in his towel, he fell right to sleep.

Rachael talked with her father for another hour before heading off to bed. They discussed what they needed to do at the Capernaum dig over the coming days. They agreed they should have some of the more experienced archeologists help. Her eyes shining, Rachael said as she left to get some rest, “Dad, I can’t wait to show you what we found. It is simply amazing. Mom would have loved to be here.”

He smiled. “Yes, my dear, your mother would have been simply ecstatic over the discovery of Matthew’s home and the artifacts you’ve found. Get some rest. You look tired.”

As she walked away, Jacob Neumann sat still with a melancholy look on his face. “Constance, my dear,” he whispered, “your daughter has found what you always dreamed of finding. Direct proof of your New Testament heroes. You would be proud of her, my dear. She is her mother’s daughter.”

* * *

A little over sixteen hours later, shadows moved in the darkness around the Capernaum dig. The barely discernible sound of cloth over stone, a whisper of movement in the shadows, and then, at precisely 1:03 in the morning, four bodies fell to the ground at the same time. Each life ended by a single silenced bullet to the back of the head. The Mossad agents guarding the Capernaum site were dead.

Ghostly shadows moved about in the darkness. Two large trucks with their lights off drove down the trail into the Capernaum dig. Backing up to the edge of what was once the opening to the basement of Matthew’s house, four men unloaded a dozen heavy boxes. They opened the door to the underground cavern and proceeded to take the boxes inside. When they returned, the boxes had been emptied of their contents, and new contents had taken their place. The four men moved efficiently and confidently. Finally, after removing the last artifact from the cave, they waited for the final member of the team. The operation had taken just over seventy minutes.

Two hours later, northern Galilee was rocked by a massive explosion. People twenty miles away heard the sound, and many called to notify the authorities.

One hour after that, at 5:14 a.m., a phone rang in Jacob Neumann’s house. The voice of the Mossad chief came through the other end. “Jacob, I am sorry to call you so early, but I have some terrible news. It seems terrorists have attacked the Capernaum dig and destroyed it.” His voice was husky, just barely suppressing his own growing rage. “We lost four of our agents, and all but one terrorist got away. The one dead terrorist is a known associate of Hamas. Be assured we are doing everything in our power to bring those responsible for this attack to justice. I give you my personal guarantee I will not rest until each and every one of them has paid for his crimes.”

Jacob was silent on the phone for several seconds. “Is there anything left at all?”

“Jacob, as of right now, it does not appear there is anything left except a massive hole in the ground. They must have used a thousand pounds of explosives to destroy the site after they left. We don’t know if they took anything with them at this point.”

As Jacob listened, his grip on the phone tightened and he grew red in the face. As calmly as possible he asked, “Would you please keep me informed of any developments on this, Nigel?”

“Yes, Jacob, I will let you know when I have any new information.”

“May I drive to the site later today to inspect the damage?”

“I don’t see why not. I will notify my people to be expecting you.”

“Thank you, Nigel, please keep me informed.” Jacob put the phone down and just sat there. Rachael would be devastated. To find something like she and Zane had found and then have it taken away—it was worse than finding nothing at all. The entire site had been completely destroyed, and they had not one piece of evidence to prove the find had even existed. Jacob was angry, angrier than he had ever been in his life except when his dear wife had died. He was angry for the loss to his nation. He was angry for the loss to archeology. Finds like this happened only once in a generation. Most of all, he was angry for the loss to Rachael. He shook with rage.

Finally getting some semblance of self-control, he got out of bed and dressed. He started some coffee and then walked over to Rachael’s door and raised his hand to knock. Hesitating, he instead lowered his hand and turned and walked back to the kitchen. His daughter would need the rest, he decided. She had gone to bed the previous day at ten a.m. and had only awakened for a short time later that evening. As far as he knew, she was still sleeping.