Dead Sea Rising

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  Terah approached haltingly, working his crutch with both hands. “Help me down,” he said. The two men lowered him to the mat at Belessunu’s feet, and the baby turned and seemed to look directly at him. “Leave us,” Terah said. Wedum, Ikuppi, and Yadidatum moved to the other room.

  Terah knew the newborn couldn’t have any concept of who or what he was looking at, but his dark eyes appeared to study his father’s face—so deeply battered and bruised that he looked other than human. Terah found himself speechless, breathless.

  “Take him,” Belessunu said.

  “Oh, I couldn’t. My shoulder …”

  “Hold him in one arm if you must.” And she held the boy out to him.

  Terah ignored the pain and gathered him in. So tiny. So delicate. And those deep, searching eyes …

  My son. At long last I am a father. “I’ll not always look this way, little one,” he cooed, and almost as if the baby had been waiting to be reassured, his little hand slowly relaxed and his eyes closed. Terah snuggled him closer, knowing he would never, could never, allow this child to be put in harm’s way.

  And with a shudder, an idea came to him. “I shall name him Amraphel, as King Nimrod himself wishes to be known.”

  “You shall do no such thing,” Belessunu said.

  “Hear me, wife. The king could never slay his own namesake. It’s a brilliant idea—”

  She sat, shaking her head. “You’re daft. Nimrod wants to kill him to keep the throne from him, and you would give him a king’s name?”

  Still gazing at his son, Terah whispered, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You weren’t,” she said. “The Lord God has given me a name for him.”

  “That is not your place …”

  “It is if it’s of God,” she said. “He would have us name him Abram.”

  “Abram,” Terah said softly, letting it roll off his tongue. “Abram?”

  “Its roots hint at strength and protection,” she said. “But it means, ‘exalted father.’”

  “A prophecy that my son will himself bear sons?”

  “Or daughters,” she said. “Or both.”

  “Which means he shall not be eliminated by a fearful king.”

  “Of that you must make certain, husband.”

  “Belessunu,” he said gravely, “I shall allow no one to touch this child.”

  Terah bowed his head, straining his painful neck, and gently pressed his swollen lips to Abram’s downy cheek. He handed the boy back to her and called out, “Come take me to the other room!” which startled the baby. His eyes and mouth opened and his hand shot out, but before he could make a sound, Belessunu held him close and rocked him. And he immediately fell asleep again.

  Once the men maneuvered Terah into the great room, and Yadidatum returned to Belessunu, Terah signaled that he wanted to kneel before the table again. While he could live with the name Belessunu believed had come from her God, Terah was not ready to entrust the safety of the boy to him. Again on his knees, shakily supported by his crutch, he prayed silently.

  “Gods of the sea, the earth, and the sky, I pledge to you my life and worship and obedience if only you bestow upon me a plan to protect my family from the wrath of the king.”

  The earth shifted beneath him yet again, rattling the table, as if the God of his wife and forefathers was reminding him that it had been He who had intervened when Terah’s gods had failed. But at the same time Terah received a message deep in his soul, and while it was brilliant, it was also diabolical and so did not strike him as having come from his wife’s Lord.

  It may come at deep cost, but Terah knew it would work.

  CHAPTER 49

  Manhattan

  Wojciechowski emerged and motioned Nicole and her father close. “One tough woman.”

  “You bet,” her father said. “Why do you think she had to be attacked from behind?”

  “Dad!” Nicole said.

  The detective shook his head. “Gallows humor’s all the humor we cops got. But do you find this funny?”

  “I’m being serious,” Nicole’s father said. “Anybody trying to pull something on Ginny had better try it when she’s not looking.”

  “I got more questions,” Wojciechowski said, “but they wanna move her to her room. I’ve gotta check with my people on alibis, havin’ someone talk to this Bulgarian woman, CCTV footage of the foundation, and where you live, all that.”

  “Where I live?” Nicole said.

  “No, your parents. You said you were in your office when your father called from France.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Just need someone to confirm that. And, Mr. Berman, they say your home’s a fortress, nobody in or out without bein’ seen by the doorman, the desk staff, or the cameras. We oughta know soon who was in and outta your place around the time of the attack.”

  Nicole took her father to Eleven West to make sure the room was in order before her mother arrived. She tidied all her own stuff and tucked her belongings in a cabinet while he sat between his bags, staring at the floor.

  “You all right, Dad? Need some help?”

  He shook his head. “The idea that someone would …”

  “I know.”

  “It just doesn’t figure. I can’t think of anyone for any reason. Frustrates me. Makes me angry, but at whom?”

  She put a hand on his shoulder, then began unpacking his bag and hanging his clothes. It wasn’t like him to let her do that, but he seemed dazed. Besides the stress of the horror, she assumed jet lag was also catching up with him.

  “I can do that, hon,” he said finally.

  “Just set up your computer, Dad. Knowing you, you’ll be here around the clock.”

  “And you?” he said.

  “Debating. I want some alone time with Mom, but you and I don’t both need to be here overnight, do we?”

  “Suit yourself. You’re in the homestretch with the Saudis, aren’t you?”

  She nodded and told him about the piece of mail she hadn’t opened. “I just can’t concentrate on anything but Mom.”

  “You told her you were still waiting to hear from them, Nic.”

  “I know. But she’s got enough on her mind. If she knew, she wouldn’t let it go until I opened it. But then she’d likely be as disappointed as I am.”

  “Wish you’d brought it so we’d know,” he said. “But it does sound like a preliminary turndown.”

  “I’ll check it tonight. But you know what comes next. If it’s still pending, I need to be able to assure them I have team member names they can vet and that the funding is in place.”

  “How much of it do you need the foundation to put up?”

  “Seriously, Dad?”

  “What?”

  “We’ve danced around this for so long I’m dizzy. You know as well as I do that unless you finance the dig, it’s not going to happen.”

  When Nicole’s mother was delivered to the room, along with the two uniformed cops who set up outside, she was sound asleep and Detective Wojciechowski was nowhere to be seen. The nurse said she had told Wojciechowski not to wake her. “So he said he’d be at the plaza cafeteria and hoped Mr. Berman could join him.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” Nicole said. “I wanted to order her some flowers anyway.” The nurse pointed her to a card with the number of the hospital gift shop.

  “And the cafeteria’s in the pavilion, right?” her dad said.

  The nurse nodded. “Guggenheim atrium. First floor.”

  When the nurse left, Nicole’s father said, “I’ve got unfinished business with the detective anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  “Something about your mother thinking I keep secrets. You hear her say anything like that?”

  Nicole hesitated.

  “What, Nic?”

  “I’ve been told not to discuss that with you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It was as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” she said, “but I guess
Wojciechowski wants to get your initial reaction, without having been tipped off.”

  “But come on. I deserve to know—”

  “Then you shouldn’t have raised me to respect authority.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Ur

  Terah slowly rose from his knees, with help, and turned with a start when Yadidatum appeared. “If I am no longer needed here, master, I should get back. Naturally, I am at your service whenever you need me.”

  Cordial words were on the tip of Terah’s tongue, thanking her for her help and apologizing for the harrowing trip at the most dangerous time before the birth. But they would not come. In fact, he was tempted to say, “Of course you’re at my service,” but he resisted. In truth, the plan he believed the gods had impressed upon his soul had so flustered Terah, he wasn’t sure how to carry it out.

  What he did say gushed from him unrehearsed. “I regret I was unable to make the trek with Belessunu this morning to see Mutuum’s child.”

  “He is a beautiful boy, like yours, master. And he is your namesake.”

  “I know. How many children do they have now?”

  Yadidatum looked to Wedum. “I should know. I delivered them all. Four, is it?”

  Wedum nodded. “One more than we have. Mutuum is a happy man.”

  “I would love to see the child,” Terah said.

  “I’m sure you would be most welcome,” she said.

  “Oh, yes,” Wedum said. “They are proud of the child. Most proud!”

  “But I am not able to travel …”

  “I am sure they would welcome you as soon as you are able,” Yadidatum said.

  “But I want to see him today! Wedum will take you and bring you back here with the baby.”

  “But, sir, little Terah is only hours older than your Abram, and—”

  Terah stopped feigning geniality. “Bring the child to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’ll ask Mutuum to—”

  “No, I wish you to bring the baby.”

  “But if Mutuum insists on accompanying me, there is no room in Wedum’s cart for another adult.”

  “The child will not be gone long before you return him.”

  “If you might indulge one more idea, sir.”

  “You have your instructions, Yadidatum.”

  The midwife nodded but looked downcast. Now was the time to initiate his plan. “What then? What’s your idea?”

  “I merely thought that if the king’s guard could take us in the chariot, we would have room …”

  Ikuppi said, “I would be happy to—”

  “No!” Terah said. “I have other duties for you.”

  Yadidatum nodded but did not move. Terah had her where he wanted her. “Was there anything else?”

  “I would be happy to tend your wounds, master.”

  “I am fine, thank you.”

  Still she seemed to stall. He raised his brows at her. “Master,” she said, “I’m sure you’re aware of what’s happened to my son.”

  “What’s happened to him? I’m not aware of anything having happened to him except that he was caught—”

  “I am not asking for a pardon, sir. I’m begging for mercy. He is a young man, his whole life before him—”

  “And our laws, the consequences, insure that offenders do not repeat. In fact, they regret what they’ve done for the rest of their lives.”

  “He already regrets it, master! No excuses, he takes all responsibility. But to maim him before he even marries or has a family—”

  “Most such men are unable to wed.”

  “I was going to say that, sir. For a mistake, an error in judgment …”

  “It’s not as if he did not know better, Yadidatum.”

  “No! We have raised our children to honor the gods.”

  “Then must you not accept this punishment as from them?”

  “I would take it as my own sentence,” she said, her eyes filling. “I wish I could take his consequence.”

  “What good would a midwife be with only one hand?” Terah said.

  “If it would leave my son whole, I would gladly—”

  “You would?”

  “On my life I swear, master. I would do anything to spare my child this horror.”

  Terah stepped closer and whispered, “Anything?”

  He detected a wariness in her eyes, but she nodded solemnly.

  “I will keep that in mind, Yadidatum. Now go and do as I have ordered.”

  As Wedum drove off with the midwife in the bed of his donkey cart, Terah told Ikuppi his scheme.

  The guard looked stricken. “Terah, sir, I cannot be party to this!”

  “What are you saying? You would have me subject my child to the king?”

  “No! I am the one who informed you of his intentions, at the risk of my own life! But this would be wrong!”

  “If it’s wrong, I will pay the consequences. But the gods have given me this plan.”

  “This is not of the gods,” Ikuppi said.

  “You dare blaspheme in the home of an icon maker? You do not tell me what is or is not of the gods. I have decided, and this is what we will do.”

  “Can you do it without me, Terah? As a father myself, I cannot have this on my conscience. I will not!”

  “You dare tell me what you will or will not do? I can trust no one else! You owe me your career, your life!”

  Ikuppi sat heavily. “Your request weighs too heavily upon me.”

  “Have I not been clear, man? I trust you and I need your help! You must keep my confidence, and I will keep yours—of that you should have no doubt. But do not mistake my directive as a request.”

  “Oh, sir! I recognize that I am your subordinate but—”

  “You are my subordinate? Everyone in the realm but the king is my subordinate! We are no longer discussing this.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Guggenheim Pavilion

  Mount Sinai Hospital

  Manhattan

  Ben Berman found Detective Wojciechowski alone at a table for four. The detective’s trench coat and suitcoat lay draped over one of the chairs, and he had loosened his threadbare tie.

  “They got kosher stuff here, Doc,” he said.

  “I forced myself to eat everything offered on the plane,” Ben said, “so I’d better just have a salad.”

  “You don’t gotta follow any food rules?”

  “No. But I was raised on a lot of kosher food, and I like it.”

  “So you’re not still Jewish?”

  “Actually I’m more Jewish now than I was. I mean, I always will be ethnically, of course. But I’ve learned more about Judaism since believing in Yeshua than I ever knew before that.”

  When his salad arrived, Ben asked Wojciechowski if it would embarrass him if he asked a blessing.

  “You mean pray?”

  Ben nodded.

  “Out loud?”

  “Not so anyone else can hear.”

  “Either way, heck ya, I’d be embarrassed.”

  “No worries,” Ben said. “I can do it silently.”

  “That doesn’t help. What’m I supposed to do while you’re doin’ that?”

  “I think that customarily, if a Messianic Jew is praying silently, a Gentile is required to stand on the table and dance—in any style you choose.”

  The detective squinted. “Here I’m tryin’ to clear you of a crime, Berman, and you’re a laugh a minute. I don’t get it.”

  “Truth is,” Ben said, “humor is my defense mechanism. Always has been. Even when I was a rebellious teenager, I tried to be funny.”

  “What you got to be defensive about? You hidin’ something from me?”

  “Of course I am. Don’t look so shocked. I have zero fear you’re going to clear me, and not just because I was across the Atlantic when this happened. I’m guessing by now you and your people have talked to enough friends and associates of mine to know I’d have no motive, no reason, no anything that would cause me to have anything
to do with hurting my wife.”

  “You’re right, Doc. So what’re you hidin’? You said it, I didn’t.”

  “I’m hiding how I feel about all this.”

  “See, why would you do that?” Wojciechowski said. “You gotta know I do this almost every day. I look into some crime and I start clearing everybody I can, startin’ with the people closest to the victims. And no matter how many of these blessed cop shows people watch, there’s a typical response. They’re horrified by what happened, they’re insulted we would imply they coulda had anything to do with it, and that makes ’em angry. We take a lotta heat for doin’ what we have to do, and we accept that. Only I don’t see that from you.”

  “What do you see, Detective?”

  “I see smart. I see earnest. I see helpful, as far as I can trust you. But I don’t see the pushback I’ve learned to expect. You’re always quick with a quip.”

  “All right, I don’t mind telling you how I feel about all this. I am angry. Nobody’s ever gone after Ginny before, at least not that way.”

  “What way, then?”

  “Oh, when she handled the books for us, she could be tough on vendors and debtors. She expected them to be as precise and timely as we were, and she would not allow them to take advantage of us. But if I caught wind that anybody even raised their voice to her, I got involved. She didn’t want me to and tried to keep all that stuff from me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she wanted to fight her own battles, and one of the big reasons she wanted the job—and you know she volunteered, saved the foundation a lot of money—was to take the burden off me. I mean, I couldn’t have done it myself anyway; that’s not in my wheelhouse. I would have had to hire somebody full-time or work with some outside firm, but she rightly wanted to free me to play to my strengths.”

  “So I’m back to what you’re hidin’.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to see how terrified I am. I don’t want Nicole to see that either. I know she’s scared. She doesn’t need me to be.”

  “You’re ignoring your salad and haven’t even done your prayer thing yet.”