The 13th Enumeration

by William Struse

  Pausing, she turned to listen. She thought she had heard something. After waiting a minute without hearing anything more, she returned to photographing the artifacts.

  Glancing down at her watch, she was surprised to see that it had already been an hour since Zane left. He should be back by now. As the minutes slowly passed, Rachael began to get uneasy. After all, she was alone in a dark subterranean cave, and now she was just waiting. After another fifteen minutes passed, Rachael could stand it no longer. She decided to go see what was delaying Zane. Maybe he couldn’t find Efran or William? Yes, that was likely it.

  With cautious steps, Rachael headed up the tunnel toward the opening. The tunnel seemed endless—much longer than when they had come this way together. After passing the large open room off of which the well was located, Rachael knew she was getting closer. With a little less caution, she hastened her steps. Finally, the beam of her flashlight played across the end of the tunnel and then up toward the opening.

  Looking up as she approached, she fell over something on the floor. Her flashlight rolled a few feet across the floor, the beam finally coming to rest on a crimson pool of blood and the head of Zane Harrison. Rachael screamed. The pool of blood was not large, but it was already beginning to congeal. Getting up off the floor, she quickly reached for the flashlight and then bent over Zane. Sobbing, she prayed, “Dear Yeshua, please let him be alive.”

  Zane was lying on his back on top of his backpack. With trepidation, Rachael reached over and touched his neck with her fingers, feeling for a pulse. To her surprise, she felt a strong, steady heartbeat through the tips of her fingers. With thanksgiving, she gently rolled him onto his side and removed his backpack. Then she rolled him onto his back once again, careful not to touch his bloody wound.

  The pool of blood was not as large as it had first appeared. It looked like it had come from a gash on his head. He had a huge swollen bruise on the side of his head near the gash. The blood had clotted, and there did not appear to be any more fresh blood.

  Opening Zane’s pack, she found a bottle of water. In vain she searched for a piece of cloth or clothing to wet and wipe his bloody face. “No time for false modesty,” she said to herself as she removed her shirt, leaving only her tank top underneath. Carefully, she poured water into her shirt and began to wipe away the blood.

  After a couple of minutes, Zane’s eyes fluttered open, and a weak smile came to his lips. Looking up into Rachael’s concerned eyes, he asked, “Did I die and go to heaven?”

  With relief, Rachael replied, “No, you’re not in heaven, you’re with me—deep in the bowels of the earth with a bloody gash on your head. What happened anyway? Did you fall?”

  With an angry look, Zane replied, “No . . . I had just about climbed out of the hole when Efran appeared out of the darkness. He stood on my hands, and I was helpless. He told me he was going to kill me, and he said he was also going to kill you and sell the artifacts. After which he would take credit for the find. Then he struck at me using the crowbar we left up there. Thankfully, I jerked my head to one side . . . I guess it knocked me unconscious, because I don’t remember anything else.”

  With indignant anger, Rachael replied, “I never trusted that monster. He was just waiting for his opportunity, and we handed it to him on silver platter. Can you move your arms and legs? Is anything broken?”

  Carefully Zane moved his legs; everything seemed to be fine there. He was able to move his right arm without any trouble. Then he tried his left arm. It felt okay, but his left shoulder was very sore. Reaching over with his right arm, he felt it carefully. It was tender. The glancing blow of the crowbar must have hit there too. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be broken.

  Slowly, Zane rolled over onto his hands and knees and began to stand up.

  “Careful, Zane,” Rachael said, concerned. “You should lie down. You’re in no condition to get up.”

  “Rachael,” Zane replied, “I have to get up. Efran might return at any moment, and I can’t just lie here for him to finish me off.”

  Rachael stood beside him, helping him stand. As he straightened, he began to see stars and thought he was going to pass out. Grabbing onto Rachael for support, he waited for it to pass. Now his head was really pounding. After several minutes, he felt better and let go of Rachael. He took a few steps, and after a moment a few more. Several minutes later, with his head still throbbing, he could walk with little trouble.

  “What time is it?”he asked.

  Rachael glanced at her watch. “Just after one a.m. You’ve been unconscious for over an hour.”

  “So how much time do you think we have?”

  “I’m not sure, but we need to try to find a way out of here before Efran returns.”

  Zane thought for a few moments, his pounding head making it hard to concentrate. “We’ve explored most of the upper tunnel . . . the only part left is just past where we found the artifacts. So I’d say let’s go back down the tunnel and see if we can find a way out.”

  Chapter 65

  Tel Aviv, Israel

  Efran made it to his apartment by 1:03 a.m. Quickly he composed a message.

  Have made a significant discovery . . .

  Efran paused, remembering what he had seen and heard when he sneaked down the tunnel after Zane and Rachael. It couldn’t hurt to make it sound mysterious, so he continued.

  Coded Hebrew inscription found on wall of tunnel. Nagad, echad, habhab, ahabah. Related to list of Matthew 1. Twenty-five scrolls, sixty clay tablets, miscellaneous coins, and other artifacts. Very few know of discovery. They have been dealt with. You can have first pick. Provide e-mail address in order to send pictures of artifacts and inscriptions. Payment to be made in advance. Entire collection sight unseen fifty million dollars. Will hold collection for one week, after that highest bidder.

  Efran was almost shaking with excitement. He hoped the mysterious contact would buy the entire collection. It would save time and entail less risk of discovery if he didn’t have to go looking for additional buyers.

  Efran set a new record for himself for encasing the leaden message in its water-soluble vessel. It was only 2:40 a.m., and he was on his way to the restroom to flush his leaden messenger. Without picking up his mess, he grabbed his keys and headed back out the door.

  * * *

  Marcus’s phone rang at 2:42 a.m. He was wide awake on the second ring. “Yes,” he said as he answered.

  “Sir, we have a development. Contact 13 arrived back at his apartment at one, and approximately three minutes ago he flushed a message down the drain. Immediately after, he left his apartment in a hurry. We placed a tracking device on his car when he arrived, and right now it is heading north. He’s in charge of a dig at Capernaum, and we surmise he is heading back there as we speak. Do you have any special orders, sir?”

  Marcus thought for a moment. He lived in north Tel Aviv, and if he left now he could intercept and follow the suspect. This was Contact 13, and he had been given specific instructions to follow him closely. One person you did not disappoint was the Guardian.

  “I will intercept and follow Contact 13. Get a Heron airborne. I want complete reconnaissance coverage on this contact. Will advise when on the road.”

  Marcus jumped into his clothes and was out the door in two minutes. He headed north. Five minutes later, Contact 13 blew by as Marcus was parked on the side of the road. Marcus waited till he was out of sight and then followed. The tracking device would provide him with locational information until the Heron came online.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the night-shift supervisor called and said the Heron was up and providing real-time reconnaissance. Marcus finally relaxed a little He was about a mile behind the suspect, and they were almost a third of the way to Capernaum. That was the destination he supposed he was going, anyway. Now he would see what this little traitor was up to.

  * * *

  Back in Mossad operational headquarters, David noticed the increased energy and excitement when C
ontact 13, as they’d nicknamed the sender of the leaden capsules marked with the number 13, arrived. After the Heron Unmanned Aerial Vehicle, or UAV, came online, David watched live footage of Contact 13 as he made his way up the Israeli highway system. He knew from intelligence reports that the Heron had ISTAR, or intelligence, surveillance, target acquisition, and reconnaissance capabilities. This version of the Heron appeared to have four independent cameras as well as infrared. On the far wall, David watched four separate live video feeds and one live IR feed. The resolution was incredible. On the first twenty-four-inch flatscreen monitor, Camera One showed the contact sitting in his car as he drove. Another camera showed live footage of Marcus four miles behind in pursuit.

  David’s curiosity was pricked when they mentioned Contact 13 was a dig supervisor at a Capernaum dig. He was pretty sure that was the dig Zane had volunteered at in the spring. He didn’t remember if Zane had said he was going back there or to some other dig during the summer. Well, this was certainly exciting.

  A little over an hour later, Contact 13 turned at Kfar Nahum Junction, and another car fell in behind him. Over the command center’s communication system, the night supervisor said, “We have additional contacts, follow with Camera Three.” Seconds later, a live video showed the new vehicle. The IR camera showed three individuals inside. Minutes later, the two cars pulled into the parking area of the Capernaum dig. Four individuals exited their vehicles, and immediately the Heron zoomed in to get visual IDs on each suspect. Pictures would be fed into the Mossad’s database, and soon the identity of the other individuals would be known.

  For a couple of minutes the small group gathered together and appeared to be talking. The video feed showed Efran giving instructions to the others. Then, together, they all headed up the hill away from camp. They entered a thick growth of trees and brush.

  The supervisor’s voice came over the speakers again. “We’ve lost camera visual, switching IR to primary. Four bodies are moving in the bushes and trees.” A few minutes later, “Only one visible heat signature, three of the contacts have likely gone underground.”

  * * *

  A half-mile away from the Capernaum dig, Marcus was following the developments on his smartphone. He had direct access to all four video feeds and the command center audio. If necessary, he could speak over the command center’s communication system as well. He was close enough for now; he would wait to see what developed.

  Chapter 66

  Ten minutes later, the night-watch operational supervisor’s voice came back over the speakers. “We have four contacts again. Pay attention, people.”

  Thirty seconds later, all four suspects headed back to the parking area, and after several minutes of discussion, they separated. First Efran left the parking lot and walked down to the campsite. He entered his tent, and based on the IR signature, appeared to lie down to sleep. Two of the other contacts stayed in the parking area for ten minutes, after which they left on foot, and making a wide circuit, headed down to the shore of the Galilee.

  David watched in fascination. Those were real people down there, but this didn’t seem real. Here he was, almost one hundred miles away, and he could see their faces and read their expressions in real time. He shook his head. In a way, all this seemed to dehumanize them. He knew that with a push of a button, someone in this room or another room could send a missile down to end their lives. He wondered if killing people should be that easy.

  * * *

  Picking up Zane’s pack, Rachael put her arms through the straps. Zane started to protest, then stopped—the determined look on Rachael’s face brooked no further argument. Walking side by side, they slowly made their way back down the tunnel. When they reached the widened section with the artifacts, Rachael set Zane’s pack down, and they proceeded until they reached a stone wall built across the tunnel. All the stones were large and uniform except for the one in the center. It was as tall and wide as a man, with a thick, rounded top and a narrow, tapered bottom.

  “Those stones look familiar. They’re about the same size as the ones in Levi’s basement,” Rachael said.

  Pointing to the rock in the center, Zane said, “That’s how they access the tunnel. That stone is quite a clever piece of engineering.” She gave him a questioning glance. Pointing to the top section of the stone, he explained, “This is a trap door. It’s equally balanced at this point here.” He pointed to the thickest section of the stone at the top. “When this was made, it likely only took the pressure of one man pushing on the top of the rock to swing the bottom up and open. Hopefully whoever made it planned for the future, and it still works. Sit down beside me, and let’s push on the bottom with our feet. It should swing outwards and up.”

  Sitting down close together, they put their feet against the bottom and pushed as hard as they could. It didn’t move at all. After all the centuries, it was stuck.

  Taking his flashlight, Zane carefully inspected the edges of the stone. It appeared that fine dirt and sand had settled into the small cracks—likely when the basement had filled with debris.

  “So what do we do now?” asked Rachael.

  Zane, with a sober look, replied, “Well, if we can get enough of the dirt and sand out of the cracks between the stone door and its frame, we’ll be able to push it open. We’ll need something thin and hard. The blade on my knife should do.”

  Rachael stood. “You just sit here and rest while I get it.” She walked the short distance to Zane’s pack and brought it back. Taking out the knife, she began to scratch away at the debris between the stones. It was painfully slow work. Every minute or two, they paused and listened for the sound of pursuers. After two-and-a-half hours of taking turns tediously cleaning out the crack, they were again ready to try to push open the door. Sitting down again, they pushed with all their might. The door still would not budge.

  Zane sat resting and thinking for a few minutes. Rachael silently sat beside him. Both were tired and discouraged, neither wanting to voice their fears. Finally Zane said, “If we had something to pry the door with it might help.”

  Rachael looked up. “I think I remember seeing a crowbar lying on the floor of the tunnel near where you fell. Do you want me to go check?”

  “No, I don’t think we should separate. We don’t know when Efran will be back. Let’s go together.”

  Getting up, they walked back up the long dark tunnel, their flashlights casting dancing shadows across the rough rock walls, their imaginations playing tricks on them. They reached the end of the tunnel and saw the crowbar lying near the far wall. With relief, Zane reached down to pick it up. They turned, and as they began to walk away, they heard a noise coming from overhead.

  Rachael grabbed Zane’s arm and whispered, “He’s back. We won’t be able to make it back and open the door in time.” As she finished speaking, they heard the stone cover being pried open again. Zane whispered for Rachael to turn off her flashlight, and they moved several feet further down the tunnel. They stood there in the darkness, twenty feet down the passage, and listened.

  Several excited voices were talking in Arabic at once. After they removed the stone, flashlights shined down in the hole. The surprised tone of their voices indicated that they’d realized Zane’s body was not there anymore.

  “They’re talking about your missing body,” Rachael whispered in Zane’s ear.

  Then Efran’s voice silenced the others, saying in Arabic, “I tell you he was there. I killed him. She must have found and moved the body. Go down and find her and kill her. Don’t come out until you are sure she is dead, and don’t touch the artifacts. We will leave them where they are until things quiet down. We don’t have much time. If you are not out of there in forty-five minutes, I will close this door and lock you in. Leave your guns here. She is a defenseless girl—you will not need firearms. Do not make any unnecessary noises. We do not want to wake up the rest of the camp.”

  Zane grabbed Rachael’s arm and hurried her down the tunnel. His light was shielded b
y his hand and fingers, only the barest of light escaping. “Let’s find a place in the big room to hide. If we can keep them looking long enough, they’ll have to leave.”

  Behind them, they heard the rope land on the floor of the cave and the noise of men descending. Their excited voices, discussing the prospect of Rachael, carried down the dark tunnel to them. Just as the beams from their flashlights shined down the tunnel, Zane and Rachael turned into the large room and headed back to the small room with the well. Frantically, they searched for a crack big enough to hide them both. They found nothing that was even sufficient for one of them.

  Finally, after searching the room twice and finding nothing, Zane stopped, put down the crowbar, and turned to Rachael with anger in his voice. “I am going back out there to try to stop them. If I can lure them away from this room, you might be able to slip out and climb up the rope.”

  Rachael looked up at Zane, shaking her head. “What about Efran, Zane? He will likely be up there waiting. There may even be more men up there besides him. I will throw myself down the well before I’ll let them get their filthy hands on me.” Scorn tinged her voice. “And besides, I am not going to stand idly by as you walk out there and fight three men by yourself.”

  As she finished talking, a thought came into her mind—a crazy idea, but an idea that just might work. Taking Zane by the arm, she drew him back into dark room. She shined the light up between them. “Do you trust me?” she asked. Zane looked at her with a surprised expression on his face. They could now clearly hear the voices of the approaching men. Rachael took Zane by the arm and drew him closer.