by M. B. Lewis
The old man turned and walked down a dimly lit corridor, leaving Kadie, Duke, and Brian little choice but to follow. He stopped at a lone door and motioned for them to enter. Duke led the way, and Kadie grabbed Brian’s hand as they entered the room. Inside stood a large round table with six chairs. Isaac shut the door behind him and invited them to join him at the table.
Kadie began. “Mister Abelman—”
“Isaac, please,” he said.
“Very well. Isaac, the reason we called you was because we found your number on our friend’s phone.”
Isaac shook his head. Kadie could see his expression was grim. “So, he’s dead?”
“Yes, he was murdered three days ago. He called you less than an hour before his murder.” Her voice wavered. “We were hoping you might have an idea why he was killed.”
Isaac’s face turned ashen, his hands quivered. He rose from the table and paced across the room. It was a casual pace, his eyes stared as if they penetrated the walls of the room and examined something far in the distance. He walked to the door and checked outside. When he shut it, he locked it this time and strode back to the table with confidence.
“Who are you, people? Why should I talk to you?”
Kadie spoke clear and concise. She explained in detail who she was, the organization she and Samuel worked for, and how Duke joined her on this adventure. Isaac listened intently, asking questions only occasionally. He glanced at Duke from time to time, as if to remind Duke he knew he was still there.
“So,” Kadie said, “since we don’t have access to Samuel’s laptop any longer, we found your number on his cell phone. You were the last person to speak to him alive.”
“It seems that you were the last person to speak to him alive,” Isaac countered.
“Yes,” she said, her gaze darting to the side.
Duke pulled out a can of Skoal, pinched some, and stuck it between his bottom lip and gum.
Oh, no, really? Does he have to do that here? Her eyes bulged, and her head tilted. Duke saw her reaction as he was about to spit in a cup. He stopped himself and swallowed instead.
Isaac sat back in his chair and rubbed his forefinger and thumb underneath his bottom lip. He squinted, burning a hole through Kadie’s conscience. “What was your organization searching for in Egypt?”
Kadie paused. “I can’t say.”
Isaac set both hands on the table. “Do you truly believe that a group as unorganized as ISIS is able to get their hands on a virus and then somehow weaponize it?”
So, he knows. He was testing me to see if I’d tell him. “Ye—”
“No,” Duke said with a firmness Kadie hadn’t heard him use before.
Isaac smiled at Duke. “Neither did Samuel.”
Kadie’s face flushed, and her eyes grew wide. She set her jaw and breathed deep. They came to the right place.
“Samuel had doubts about what GDI has been searching for from the beginning,” Isaac said. “His curiosity—accelerated by the amount of money thrown at the balagan project—led him to join the team.”
“When Samuel called me, he said he found out what we were actually searching for. Do you know what he was referring to?”
Isaac nodded. “I do, and I told him as well. Your team is searching for the Aramaic Vase.”
Kadie shook her head. How could she have been so foolish to think this museum guide would have more information. “Of course, we were searching for a vase with Aramaic writing on it. The vase contained the formula to cure the disease we’re facing. The contents can save the world.”
Isaac smiled. “You’re right. The contents can save the world. But what you’re searching for isn’t an Aramaic vase. It’s the Aramaic Vase. And it won’t save the world in the manner you think.” Kadie glanced at Duke, who appeared as confused as she felt.
“What’s the Aramaic Vase?” she said.
“The vase is a legend by all accounts. A two-thousand-year-old legend. A treasure beyond belief. But the treasure isn’t the vase itself. The treasure is what is inside.”
“What is—inside?” Brian said, who’s interest piqued at the first mention of treasure.
Isaac smiled at her brother and patted him on the back.
“Inside the vase rests the treasure of all treasures. The Pilate Scroll.”
21
Tel Aviv, Israel
The Market House Hotel
* * *
Mac had successfully avoided Curt for the past few hours—until now. His phone call downrange took up most of his time, and he was eager to discuss the results with Duke. The GDI security man marched straight at him, and he looked mad. As Curt moved closer, Mac confirmed it. Yep, he was mad.
Curt stuck his finger in his face, which Mac didn’t like at all.
“You lied to me, you dirtbag,” Curt said. “There’s no pool at this hotel.”
“Hmmm. How about that?”
“Why’d you lie? Where are they?”
“Who are you asking about, specifically?”
“You know who I’m talking about. Kadie and that pilot sidekick of yours.”
Mac grinned. “I like to think of myself as the sidekick. Mainly because the hero always gets the girl.”
Curt’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “They’re together, somewhere. Where are they?” He poked his finger in Mac’s chest.
Mac snatched the finger and bent it back. Far enough to make him scream without breaking it. “You need to learn to be a little nicer.” Mac’s smile disappeared from his face. He released the finger, and the GDI man cradled it with his other hand.
Curt turned to walk away. “This isn’t over between you and me, old man.”
“I look forward to it, junior,” Mac said as Curt slinked around the corner.
He was right. This was far from over.
Kadie and Duke cast each other curious looks. Brian’s face scrunched.
“What’s the Pilate Scroll?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of that.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “It’s a legend, really. A legend that dates back almost two-thousand years, to when Jesus came to Jerusalem for the final time. Judas betrays Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, and the Pharisees and Sanhedrin arrest him. After Jesus is tortured at the house of Caiaphas, he is brought before Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Jerusalem. Pontius Pilate judges Jesus in the Gospels, all four of them, to be exact.
“After Pilate condemned Jesus to crucifixion, there is more to the story than is in the Gospels. Pilate’s wife, in addition to the dreams she’d had about Jesus, had been suffering a great illness. Pilate’s wife is not named in the Gospels. Origen, in his Homilies on Matthew, suggests that her name is Claudia and says she had become a follower of The Way. The Apocryphal Letter of Pilate to Herod, written in the third or fourth century, says her name is Procla. This letter proclaims that Pilate and Procla became Christian converts. The Apocryphal Letter of Nicodemus also calls her Procla and details her dreams. Regardless of her name, she is the trigger figure in the legend of the Pilate Scroll.”
Kadie was fascinated. The old man weaved his tale and placed emphasis where needed. His words rang confident and true. He knew what he was talking about.
“How do you know so much about the New Testament?” she said. “Aren’t you Jewish?”
Duke leaned in, looking at Isaac. “He’s a Messianic Jew.”
Isaac smiled at Duke and nodded. “Pilate’s wife, we’ll call her Claudia. That seems to be the favored name for her in Western culture. Claudia had retrieved Jesus’ prayer shawl from the prison guards as they cast lots for his clothing. Before the crucifixion, the Gospel says Claudia warned Pilate—some say she begged him—to let Jesus go. Legend has it that after the Messiah was crucified, Claudia’s ailment mysteriously healed. Curious as to how she healed so miraculously, Pilate sought out the Disciples of Jesus. Pilate finds them weeks after the tomb was found empty, gathered on the Mount of Olives in Bethany. He was shocked to learn that Jesus had returned from
the dead and was shown the wounds on his hands and side. While there, Jesus tells his Disciples they must wait in Jerusalem until they attain the power of the Holy Spirit. And then he ascends into heaven.”
Duke waved his hands. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. There’s nothing in the Gospels about Pilate meeting with the Disciples.”
Isaac nodded. “That’s why it’s a legend. Luke chronicled the event at the end of his Gospel, and again at the beginning of the Book of Acts, that time with more detail. No one can explain why the Gospel doesn’t mention Pilate being there. Perhaps the Disciples feared retaliation from the Romans if they did; perhaps Pilate asked them not to say he was there, and as men of honor, they respected his wishes.”
Brian listened to the story, his mouth slightly open. Kadie wondered if he was able to follow everything Isaac was telling them.
“Regardless, Pilate documents the event on a scroll. The dowels that hold the parchment were said to be made from Christ’s bloody cross. This became known as the Pilate Scroll. The scroll is placed in a vase with Aramaic writing on it and sent to Emperor Tiberius in Rome, hence, The Aramaic Vase. The legend doesn’t reveal what the writing says, only that the scroll within is the treasure. It is believed, however, to be handwritten testimony by the Roman governor of Jerusalem that Jesus had died and three days later rose from the dead. That weeks later, the Roman governor of the province, saw this man he had previously seen crucified, amongst the Disciples. The man truly was the Son of God.”
Kadie was flummoxed as the words of the stranger in the garden tomb came back to her. “Why has no one heard of this?”
Isaac ignored the question and continued. “When the vase and scroll reached Rome, the emperor was not having any of it. Legend says he read it and was furious. Emperor Tiberius hides the vase with the scroll inside. He didn’t need a revolt in the empire over the one true God.
“This took place around 33A.D., depending on who you talk to. Tiberius remained emperor until March 37A.D. until he died. The cause of his death was never verified. Some say natural causes. Others say it was an assassination by either a Praetorian Prefect or Caligula, who succeeded Tiberius as emperor. Caligula was emperor from March of 37A.D. until January of 41A.D. when he was assassinated. This conspiracy did involve senators and Praetorian guards.”
“Caligula?” Duke said. “What’s he got to do with this?”
“Caligula is important because, according to the Eusebius of Caesarea’s Ecclesiastical History, Pilate killed himself on orders from Emperor Caligula in 39A.D.”
“I don’t understand the connection,” Kadie said.
The old man pushed away from the table and glanced at both her and Duke. “Why would the emperor of Rome order a governor of a small, inconsequential nation to kill himself? Could it be Caligula also read the scroll and knew what Pilate had witnessed? The legend—”
“Kadie!” Brian said.
She looked at her brother, who froze for several seconds, then began convulsing.
He was having another seizure.
22
Kadie leaped from her chair for Brian, but Duke beat her there. He lowered him to the floor gently. She knelt next to him and lay his head on her lap. Using the palm of her hand, she rubbed his cheek. It was a mild seizure. He’d had much worse, but even one like this could be harmful if he lost his balance and hit his head. Thank God Duke reached him so fast. She knew better than to sit so far from Brian. He was her responsibility, and she needed to do better.
Self-criticism was warranted; she should have gone back for his medication. The one day they leave without it, and he has a seizure. Fortunately, the seizure gradually subsided. She spoke to Brian softly, running her hand through his hair.
For the first time since Brian’s seizure, she looked at Isaac. The corners of his mouth drooped, matching the eyebrows above his watering eyes. She turned to Duke. “We need to go,” she said.
Duke nodded. “Can he get up?”
“He should be okay. Brian? Brian? Can you hear me?”
Brian grinned. “Yes—I can heaw you—I’m wight hewe.”
Kadie, relieved, exhaled deeply. “He’s okay. He’s a funny man now.”
Duke helped Brian to his feet, and Kadie turned to their host. “Mister Abelman—Isaac—I’m sorry, we’ve got to return to Tel Aviv so he can take his medicine.”
Isaac nodded. “I understand.”
“I want to thank you for giving us this information. It’s been very enlightening.”
“Oh, you’re quite welcome. I feel it’s important, though, that you know there is more.”
Duke wheeled around, balancing Brian as he did so. “More what?”
“More information. More to the legend. More about the Pilate Scroll. More, I’m sure, about Samuel’s death.”
Kadie and Duke stared at each other, and she could read his mind. She turned back to their new friend and ally. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”
The three of them rode in the back seat of the mini-van taxi to Tel Aviv. They didn’t speak for the first twenty minutes as Kadie cradled Brian, her brother drawing all her attention. He seemed okay for the moment, but Kadie was disturbed that she didn’t have his medication. She was cursing herself for letting her brother down.
Duke finally broke the silence. “What is this medication he needs? Can’t we find it in Jerusalem?”
“No, it’s hard to find. Well, maybe. I don’t know. It’s called Lamictal. But I don’t have a prescription, so even if we did, I doubt they’d give it to me. Doctor Upton has more for him at the hotel. Because we cross so many borders, the company is having Doctor Upton control Brian’s medicine.”
The brevity and crispness in her response told him this was a subject she didn’t want to discuss.
“So,” he said, wisely changing the subject, “what do you think about this Pilate Scroll Isaac mentioned?”
Kadie felt unsure. “I don’t know. I have a hard time believing it’s worth killing someone over. But the legend itself is fascinating.”
“So, we are coming back tomorrow?”
“Don’t you want to? I need to find out what happened to Samuel.”
“I’m in. Looking forward to it actually. I enjoy spending time with you two.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his can of Skoal, opened it, and pinched some between his thumb and forefinger. With the skill of a seasoned pro, he slid the tobacco between his cheek and gum.
Kadie’s face morphed into one of shock, disgust, and disappointment. “How can you do that?”
“As I said, Skoal is my one vice.”
“You do realize your one vice is killing you?” Her face reflected that she realized how harsh her comment was as soon as the words left her mouth. “I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I made a mistake a long time ago, and I’m facing the consequences now. I’m at peace with that.”
“You know, if you quit using that stuff, your chances of recovery increase exponentially.”
“I’m seeing a doctor when I get back to the States. He’s recommending surgery, but he thinks it may have spread to my throat. It’s painful sometimes. Mac keeps telling me that I don’t need to be over here, but I wanted one last rotation with him.”
Her posture relaxed, and warmth emanated from her. “He’s a good friend, isn’t he?”
“The best.”
That brought a smile from Kadie. “Maybe sometimes we need to change something we do for the benefit of those around us.”
Duke nodded at the comment and gazed out the window at the vast emptiness. That was his problem. Besides Mac, there was no one in his life to motivate him to change.
23
Tel Aviv, Israel
The Market House Hotel
Duke sat in the corner of the hotel restaurant sipping a cappuccino. His back to the wall gave him a full view of everyone who entered and exited the small hotel. He had spent most of the afternoon getting updates on the status of the airplane; the rest on the antics
of the GDI security man, Curt Baxter. The waiter brought him another, and when he looked back up, Kadie had entered the restaurant. She saw him and made her way over. He stood as she approached.
“Good evening, ma’am.”
She laughed. “Stop.”
“Does your boyfriend know you’re here? Don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Her smile faded quickly.
“Okay,” he said. “Bad joke. Join me?”
She sat down, and the waiter handed her a menu. “I came down to get something to take back up to Brian. He’s still resting—in front of the TV.”
Duke smiled. “He’s a good guy.”
Kadie nodded. “Yes, he is.” She searched the menu for a few minutes, then ordered a to-go plate for both her and Brian. “Are we still on for tomorrow? I’m going to have Brian stay here with Doctor Upton.”
That surprised Duke. “Sure, I’m game if you are. I wasn’t sure how you were going to handle your restriction.”
“I think the best way is to walk straight out the front door right in front of him. That should teach him to talk to me like that.”
Duke laughed. “Have you thought any more about what Isaac said earlier?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I’m curious. I mean, it’s just a legend, right?”
“My experience with legends is they’re usually grounded in truth. Are you starting to question your faith? Or rather your lack of it?”
She clasped her hands on the table in front of her, staring at them as she did so. “I used to be a proper Catholic girl. Mass every Sunday, confession, the whole nine yards. When I was seven, my grandparents died. I had a hard time with that. Then when Brian was born with Down syndrome, I couldn’t understand that either. I began to question God.”