Blood Moon Redemption

by Judy DuCharme

  “The Jews had been banished from Spain and they had lost all, except a tassel. The tassel represented God, the synagogue, and God’s provision. It came to the Americas and was passed down through the generations to Sophie and Samuel. They returned it to Eretz-Israel. The ship they were on, full of refugees, was one of the few that met no resistance upon entering our homeland.

  “While we were there one evening, having a wonderful time, and a big meal, the relic disappeared. Sophie and Samuel were remorseful. They realized they had been careless by their generosity of letting it sit on the mantel available for all to handle and look at it. Someone deceived them and stole the relic. I felt so bad for them, not to mention the loss of the relic that had represented God’s blessing in so many ways, that I prayed that it would be returned or found. I had almost forgotten. Now, here it is.”

  Shimon and Aaron stood stock still.

  “After all this time.” Shimon’s father let the tears roll freely. “We have Jerusalem and we have the relic. Indeed, this is a day to rejoice.”

  “Aaron, why do you think he gave it to you?” Shimon took the bottle from his father and examined it before handing it to Aaron.

  “Just before the war, I too found out that I am a descendant of Christopher Columbus. Do you suppose this was meant to be handed down through his descendants?”

  “How did the kid know?”

  “God works in mysterious ways, blessed be He.” Shimon’s father put an arm around Aaron. “It is your turn now to be the keeper of the relic. If you are a descendant of Columbus then you are related to the Orbins. I have lost track of them but I’m sure we can find them. This is amazing.”

  “I think we should turn it over to the Israeli archaeological society. This should be available for all of Israel to see and learn the history. But with protection.”

  People were pouring in to the area of the Wailing Wall, falling on their knees and weeping. Some were dancing and shouting praise to the Almighty God. Several had gathered around Aaron, Shimon, and his father. They reached out and touched the bottle with reverence. Some passed it around and then returned it to Aaron.

  The dust upon the stones rose up like a cloud with all the activity. A few coughed but did not mind. As the dust settled, the golden tone of the wall reflected in their faces from the glow of the setting sun.

  PRESENT DAY, JAFFA

  Tassie heard Yitka’s voice again and seemed to wake up from the dream and return to the present. “So, Aaron, out of respect, turned it over to the authorities to place it on display, protect it, and bless all of Israel.”

  Tassie shook her head. This was her tassel, the one for which she was named. Hector told her mother that she, Tassel Lydia Stevens, would be influential in Israel in the last days. Could that still be? She was running for her life. Omar was after her. What if he just hired a sniper to take her out? What if he’d gone back and stolen the relic. If he was looking for her, he probably would have found her by now.

  “Why there you are. Sweetheart I totally lost track of you. Did you get lost? You must be exhausted? We really should get back.”

  Stupid. I’m stupid. I didn’t make a call or ask for help. Tassie hung her head. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Omar. He was probably smirking or seething. Smooth voice, hatred in his soul. She glanced at Yitka who simply looked at Tassie. Tassie saw the question in her eyes but could not answer.

  She simply stood and said, “Thank you for the food and drink. It was wonderful.” She turned to Omar and saw his bodyguards, his henchmen, a short distance away. No sense running or putting Yitka in danger. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re here. I need to pay this dear woman for a lovely meal and drinks.”

  Yes, he’s seething. But he paid and left a tip as well. As soon as they were out of sight, Tassie thought his grip would cut her arm in two.

  “I should kill you. Why I let you live . . . ”

  CHAPTER 18

  PRESENT DAY ISRAEL

  Before she could think it through, Tassie was back on a plane and changing into a burka. How did I not escape? I think I’m so smart. Not so. She could overhear Omar on his phone.

  As the plane paused in its taxi along the runway preparing for takeoff, Tassie watched a plane unloading onto the tarmac. A young man looked her direction and Tassie almost fainted. It was Jethro, her distant cousin, grandson of Uncle Luney. Dressed in a suit coat and khaki pants, he looked so official. He was dressed nicely at the funeral, but now he looked almost in charge. Other people were handing him items and taking his luggage for him.

  A car pulled up and a man stepped out and shook Jethro’s hand. People began placing his luggage in the trunk. The man from the car turned and Tassie began to cry. It was her brother, Rube. How could this be? Why were they in Israel? Twenty minutes previous they might have seen her, but now she was in a burka, leaving in a plane. Twenty minutes ago, she could have called to them, run to them.

  Now they would not see her or notice her, let alone recognize her. Were they here to rescue her? Mother must have called Rube, but how did he know to come to Israel? The Goldmans? No? Not enough time. Wait, Rube’s an IT guy. Perhaps he could have tracked her phone. The tears almost engulfed her vision. She wiped the tears and put her hand on the window. Omar was paying no attention.

  Jethro pointed her way, and in what seemed slow motion, Rube turned. He looked directly at the window and leaned forward. Rube placed a hand over his eyes to shield the sun and stared. Tassie waved and blew a kiss, all the while sobbing, trying to hold it in so Omar would not hear. Rube swiped his phone and began talking into it. He walked and then ran toward the plane.

  What can he do? We are moving. We are leaving. Tassie’s eyes hurt. She blew out her breath and covered her mouth with her hand. Twice now a chance to escape gone. The plane picked up speed and raced down the runway, leaving Rube and Jethro and rescue behind, and taking Tassie in a burka to a future she could not bear thinking about.

  The grief engulfed Tassie’s mind and she felt herself shut down. The world, the airplane, disappeared. Darkness descended on all that she was.

  I am done, I have failed at that for which I was purposed, but I never understood or accepted that purpose anyway. Perhaps I can just kill myself. I should let Rube or the Goldmans know so no one looks for me. I have set them up for danger. Danger.

  Danger is real. Mother was right. Forgive me. Someone, please forgive me. God, Jesus, please forgive me. I have failed. I will die. Please don’t let anyone else be hurt or killed.

  The darkness became a fog. It was almost worse than the darkness, because it seemed that she should be able to see, but she could not. It was hard to breathe. Perhaps she was dying. If so, she should just yield to it. Why did she resist? She’d failed. She deserved death.

  There were no tears now. She would be brave. No, not brave, just accepting.

  “Tassie, everyone deserves death. Everyone has failed.”

  Tassie heard the voice and looked around. Too foggy. Gray air. Rotten, moist smelling air. No life. Dead.

  What? Everyone deserves death? Then why is anyone alive? She closed her eyes and slumped into the seat. Cradling her face in her hands, she let the tears begin again.

  “Tassie, look at me.”

  Tassie blew out air from her cheeks and slightly shook her head. Well, Omar is here to kill me now. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed it will just be over.

  “Tassie, please look at me.”

  Please? What? Already it seemed hard to lift her eyelids. I can’t open my eyes. Don’t make me. Just kill me.

  “I am not here to kill you, but to show you life.”

  What? Tassie’s eyes flew open. What? That voice. She recognized that voice. But who did it belong to? The fog ran through her mind. Focus left. She tried to catch it. I know that voice. Who is it? Where is it?

  “Tassel.”

  Tassie whirled her head and looked across the aisle. There sat Hector Woodley in the fog. He had a strange light about him.

>   “Oh, Hector, don’t tell me you are God.” Perhaps I’ve already died.

  “No, Tassel, only a messenger.” He smiled that almost toothless grin, and the warmth crossed the aisle and wrapped itself around her.

  “Am I alive?”

  “You are, but only physically.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The fog thinned and there was light in the cabin of the aircraft. Tassie could see Omar in the distance, still on the phone, but it seemed he was in a movie, not real, just visible to her.

  “I mean it is time to receive forgiveness and live.”

  “I don’t deserve that. I have failed.”

  “Everyone has failed. No one deserves forgiveness.”

  “Well that’s a happy thought, Hector. And I thought perhaps you had good news.” I guess I am still alive. My cynicism has returned.

  “But God, in His great love for us all, sent us His Son as a provision to die in our place, that we might walk in newness of life.”

  An electric pulse began in Tassie’s shoulders and traveled to her toes. Her mind snapped clear. Truth filled her thoughts. She was a lawyer. She always sensed that she could discern truth in a courtroom, in people. Somehow, she had remained clueless in terms of truth for herself. Now, she could see. The fog was gone from her mind.

  The rabbi, the Goldmans, were right. Jesus was the Messiah. Wait. Jesus is the Messiah. He is my Messiah. He gave His life for me because He loved me. He still loves me. How can it be? Tears once more poured from her eyes.

  “Hector?” Tassie’s voice was soft. It was full of respect. She had only talked with disdain to this man, the messenger of God Almighty, blessed be He. “I believe. I receive Jesus as my Messiah, as my Lord. He died for me. I’m free. I’m forgiven. Forgiven. Thank you, Hector. Forgive me for my ugly attitude.” Her eyes looked at his. “Thank you, for visiting my mother before I was born.”

  Hector smiled. “Praise God, Tassie. But now, this time will seem like a dream as it seemed to your mother. The fog will lift. I will be gone. Omar will be talking on his phone. In his mind, you have been asleep all this time.” Hector chuckled. “That’s because he hears you snoring. He will continue to consider you asleep, but you will be alert, more observant than you’ve ever imagined in the courtroom. Listen to his every word. Remember them. You will not die. You did not fail. You needed to remain with Omar to hear these plans. Listen, Tassie, listen.”

  “Jethro, get to the Goldmans and find out what they learned. I am already finding out where this plane is going. I’ll get back to you later.”

  Rube trotted toward the terminal. His phone rang. Swiping it, he answered. “Jared, Jethro is here, but we just saw a plane leave. We’re quite sure we saw Tassie on the plane and assume Tugani is with her. I’m heading toward the terminal to find out where the plane is going. Could blow my cover, though.”

  “Rube, Jethro already sent us the picture, the video, he took of the plane. Got the info.”

  “Whaaat?” Rube stopped and caught his breath.

  “Jethro’s good. The flight is scheduled to return to Damascus. The names are not authentic, but, you’re right, it’s most likely Tugani. And it is Tassie in the window. She’s crying, Rube.”

  “Oh, man. How did this happen?” Rube bent over, placing one hand on his knee. The steam on the tarmac lifted and increased the perspiration on his face. “Okay, Jared, what now?”

  “Get yourself over to the museum where the relic is kept. We’re getting some chatter about an IDF soldier there getting a take on Tugani’s phone. They were considering shooting down the plane. Frank is handling it, and talked them down, and Jill’s dad is here, too. Jill will run interference with your folks. If this continues, she may have to reveal your CIA involvement.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Another car arrived as the first had left with Jethro. Rube climbed in and gave instructions to go to the museum.

  Rube showed his CIA identification to the IDF that met him at the door.

  “Right this way, sir.” The man ushered Rube into a small interior room. Just before entering, Rube glanced to his right.

  “Is that it, the relic with the tassel? Is that it?” He walked toward it, eyes wide.

  “Sir, it is, but let’s look at it later.”

  Rube pulled his gaze from the bottle, and nodding his head, followed the soldier into the small room. Three more IDF greeted him.

  “We got a take on Tugani’s phone. He was about to take a picture, and we stopped him. James, here, grabbed the phone out of his hand and must have hit a button for when he glanced down just before returning it to the man, there were three texts.” The soldier smiled. “It was good that it was James. He had our new copy chip strapped to the palm of his hand. He didn’t have Tugani’s phone long enough to get everything, and it took a while to get through his firewalls and encryptions, but what he did get was a gold mine and we sent it to the Mossad.

  “One text was one of the five Gitmo prisoners recently released by the U.S. in exchange for a prisoner of war. Apparently, the guy is a cousin of Tugani. The second one was from The Ghost, the mastermind of the ISIS raid on Iraq. He was informing Tugani of the progress. Just on that alone, we scrambled jets to take him out, as the third text indicated that his plane was ready and waiting for him here in Tel Aviv.

  “Upon informing the U.S., your lead man, Jared, requested a stand down through his operative, Frank, based on the U.S. citizen, your sister, on board that plane. Sir, there is no question that her life is in great danger. Tugani is a major player here. The texts seem to indicate that he is not just an informant but a decision maker, and these people are reporting to him. At first, we thought he was an info gatherer for ISIS. But as the back story is coming in, his family runs the Syrian part of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria.

  “As you may already know, ISIS plans to establish an Islamic Caliphate for the States of Syria, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Palestine, and Israel. They are brutal and superstitious. They think the relic will give them extra powers, and if your sister is the namesake, they may feel she will serve them in some capacity. I fear to consider how. Perhaps they will return for the relic. Forgive me, sir, but they may sacrifice her for the relic or for some superstitious ritual for power.”

  Sweat poured from Rube’s forehead and ran into his eyes. Wiping it with his hand did not stop it.

  “Sir, perhaps you should not be here. I understand another man from the States familiar with the case of the relic and all the religious underpinnings is here as well. Perhaps he should be the point man.”

  “He’s our cousin. I thank you for your consideration, but we are here, and we will perform. I trust all of you will remain involved. Please let us or Jared know whatever you need.”

  “Yes, sir. I believe your cousin has arrived.”

  One of the IDF soldiers opened the door. Rube did not get up but turned in his chair. Jethro stood one foot from the relic, stooped to look eye level at the tassel. He turned his head. “It’s amazing, is it not? May I handle it, albeit carefully.” He stood up and attempted to take the little boy admiration off his face as he saw the soldiers standing in the office and Rube appearing not well. “I’m sorry. I just, well . . . never mind. Forgive me.” He walked over to the IDF. “I’m Jethro Winkelman.”

  “Yes, sir.” The soldier shook his hand. “I’m Jonas Samuel. James, go ahead and let Mr. Stevens and Mr. Winkelman see the relic. They are part of the family that brought it to us.”

  Rube stood and patted Jethro on the back. “They just debriefed me. It’s pretty bad. But let’s see the relic.”

  The bell jar was removed, and the relic was carefully handed first to Rube. He gingerly held it, turning and noting everything. He counted the knots in the tassel as he handed it to Jethro.

  “Your sister counted the knots, too.” James smiled.

  Rube shook his head. “When we were kids, I really teased her about her name. I told her that a real tassel had k-n-o-t-s but she had n-o-t-s. Not pretty, not
smart, not nice.”

  Jethro nodded. “I remember that drove her crazy, and then she’d call you a Rubik’s Cube and threaten to rearrange your face.”

  “She did sometimes. She’s a fighter.” Rube’s face fell. “Maybe she can survive this.”

  Jethro returned the bottle to the pedestal. “Thank you so much. This is an honor, but now what?”

  “Let’s return to the office.” James, Jethro, and Rube each found a seat in the small room jam-packed with papers and file boxes. The lead soldier, Jonas, sat down behind the desk. His square shoulders and his direct brown eyes displayed professionalism and respect. There was no question that he was in charge.

  “We are getting more intel. Mossad has further infiltrated Tugani’s cell phone and we are quite certain he is unaware. He has revealed nothing about the hostage, excuse me, your sister, Tassie. He is planning high-level meetings in Syria. He has connections with Lemkrof, with released terrorists from Gitmo, and with ISIS. He is a powerful man.”

  “Are we going after him?” Rube sat on the edge of the chair. Tassie was at the mercy of a monster.

  “I am.” Jethro’s eyes met Rube’s. “I’ve been on the phone with Jared, Frank, and even Jill’s dad. You perhaps didn’t know I’ve done a lot of field work. Jared wanted that time with me, not so much for the prophecy timeline. He already knew that. He wanted to get me ready in case something of this sort happened. Thankfully I saw and actually got the video of Tassie. And I talked to the Goldmans.”

  “Tell me. How was she when she was with them? Did he show his hand?”