The Scroll

by Grant R. Jeffrey

  “What? Amber, what is it?”

  Her lips moved, but the words were too soft to hear. He waited. She tried again. “I asked about his injuries, but they wouldn’t tell me. They just said he was critical and not expected to live through the night.”

  Chambers’s brain raced to process what he had just heard. “Help me up.”

  “No. You need to stay in bed. The doctor said—”

  “Help me up, or leave. Lower the bed rail.”

  She hesitated, but then did as he ordered. Feeling less pain than he expected, Chambers swung his legs over the side. The room began to spin. He waited for the revolution to cease, then eased his bare feet to the cool sheet-vinyl floor. He noticed he was standing in his underwear. “See if you can’t find a robe or hospital gown.”

  Amber slipped through the opening in the curtain and returned a moment later with an open-back hospital gown. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t lately. I want to see Ben-Judah. I owe him that.”

  “That may be more difficult that you think, Dr. Chambers.” The voice was male and steady.

  Chambers saw a pair of expensive-looking dress shoes just below the curtain.

  The man spoke again. “May I come in?”

  “I’m not in the mood for visitors.”

  A hand pulled aside the curtain anyway. The man who entered was stately, with an aquiline nose, gray hair that looked polished, and a suit that had a hand-tailored quality about it.

  “Listen, pal, I said I wasn’t in the mood for … visitors … Sir?”

  “You know who I am?”

  Chambers glanced at Amber, who looked dumbfounded. “Yes sir. I’m not much on foreign affairs, but I recognize Israel’s prime minister when I meet him.” He motioned to Amber. “Prime Minister Yakov, this is Dr. Amber Rodgers.”

  Yakov gave a small bow in her direction, then faced Chambers again. “Are you going somewhere?”

  Chambers was suddenly aware of how silly he must look standing in a hospital gown, struggling to work the tie in the back. Amber came to his rescue. “Yes sir. I was going to check on one of my people.”

  “Dr. Ben-Judah?”

  “Yes sir. He was injured—”

  Yakov raised a hand. “I’ve been briefed. The professor and I go back many years. We did undergraduate work together. Obviously not in the same field.” He smiled like a politician. “I wanted to personally thank you for your valiant efforts at the dig site. I understand you risked your own life to save the professor’s and then returned to a tunnel which could collapse at any moment.”

  “No thanks necessary, sir. I just did what anyone would do in the same situation.”

  Yakov said an expletive in Hebrew. “I am a student of human nature, Dr. Chambers. I have to be in my position. Most men would have fled to save themselves. You did a heroic thing, and while you are in my country, I’ll thank you not to dismiss my praise. There are hundreds of people who will tell you I don’t do it often.”

  “Yes sir. I apologize.”

  “I have another question. The report I received said the cave-in was caused by a bomb. Do you agree?”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  “No chance that it was a buildup of flammable gas or a natural cave-in?”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Prime Minister, I didn’t get these burns from a natural cave-in.” He turned to show the back of his neck and arms. “I can assure you that there was no gas buildup in the tunnel. We guard against such things.”

  Yakov nodded. “Thank you for being honest and straightforward with me. The nation of Israel owes you a debt of gratitude.”

  “Please, Mr. Prime Minister, do you have any word on the professor?”

  Yakov’s eyes narrowed. “What have you heard?”

  “Amber … Dr. Rodgers said he’s not expected to live through the night.”

  “An honest answer deserves one in return. Dr. Rodgers is correct. Ben-Judah is dying. We are about to suffer a great loss.”

  Chambers pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to stop the emotional dam from breaking again.

  Yakov’s voice softened. “I am sorry to share that news with you. I know he counted you as a dear friend.” The prime minister turned to leave.

  “Mr. Prime Minister,” Chambers said. “Were you serious when you said Israel owes me a debt of gratitude.”

  Yakov looked over his shoulder. “Of course.”

  “I’d like to call in that debt.”

  Yakov’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that so, Dr. Chambers? What do you have in mind?”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Chambers and Amber followed Yakov as he and two security men moved through a back door of the ER and down a corridor. The painkillers he had received allowed David to walk without much of a limp, but the pain was making itself known. Doctors and nurses parted before them. They turned down another hall that led to a bank of elevators, which they rode to the top floor of the hospital. David saw a sign that read PRIVATE WING. He knew that hospitals in cities filled with dignitaries, ambassadors, stars, and high-ranking politicians had designated wings with private rooms where they could provide security and privacy from paparazzi. Rooms lined the corridor, each with its door closed. Two security officers stood at the start of the passageway. Their suit coats were unbuttoned, and Chambers could see handguns in shoulder holsters. They stepped aside as the prime minister led the way. They passed a nurses station where another guard sat watching video monitors.

  Chambers felt conspicuous in his newly acquired robe. Apparently if the prime minister wanted a robe, he got a robe.

  At the fifth door down on the north side of the wing stood one more suit-garbed security person: a woman who looked as if she hadn’t smiled since grade school. At the sight of Yakov, she stepped to the center of the aisle and leaned to the side to see who followed the country’s leader.

  “Sir?”

  “They’re with me.” Yakov answered the unspoken question.

  “I was told it would just be you and the security detail.”

  “I know what you were told, and you are right to check, but as I said, they’re with me.”

  Chambers could see her juggling the change in orders. She looked at the men with Yakov. “They’re clear.”

  “Very good, sir.” She moved to the door and opened it, then stepped aside. Yakov led them into the private room.

  Chambers noticed several things: first, the room was large, more hotel than hospital; it had been professionally decorated; and Ben-Judah was sitting up in the hospital bed eating a sandwich and watching the news on television. He looked good. If he was on death’s threshold, it was a very wide threshold. Ben-Judah switched off the television.

  “David. I did not expect to see you.” He pushed up in the bed and wiped at his beard. “You’re not supposed to know I’m here.”

  Yakov moved to Ben-Judah’s side and took his friend’s hand. “He out-politicianed me, my friend. It’s a shame he’s wasting his time digging in the dirt and rescuing old men from cave-ins.”

  “I should have warned you about him, Nathan. He has his own way about him.”

  He calls the prime minister of Israel by his first name? Chambers was impressed.

  “You can say that again,” Amber said. “He’s a snappy dresser too.”

  “David, my friend, I owe you my life. How are you? Your injuries?”

  “I’m fine, Professor. Just a little dinged up, but you … I was told—”

  “That I was dying. Yes, I know. In a way I am.”

  Chambers shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “We would have told you eventually, David, but some things are out of our control.” He seemed to have aged several years. “Five gone now. The student, and …” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He addressed Yakov. “Nathan, is there any news from the investigation?”

  “No, not yet. It is still too early. Dr. Chambers assures me it was an explosion. Our man La
ndau said he heard the blast. I’ve asked the army to investigate. I can keep a tighter lid on it with them than with local police.”

  “We have feared this from the beginning.” He thought for a moment. “We must bring David, Amber, and Nuri into the circle. This is no longer just an academic dig or even a treasure hunt. They are risking their lives and the lives of others at the digs. They have a right to know.”

  “I am not so sure,” Yakov said. “Secrecy has been our companion from the beginning.”

  “And it will continue to be so. David did save my life. I trust Amber as much as I trust you, Nathan.”

  “That’s because she’s prettier.” The prime minster joked without changing his expression.

  “Yes, this is true.”

  This time Yakov laughed, and it sounded genuine. He looked at the two men who had been at his side. “I need the room.”

  They left without a word. “Shall we?” Yakov pointed to a small seating area to the side of the room.

  The space had a sofa, coffee table, and two leather chairs. Chambers lowered himself onto the sofa, careful about the stitches in his back, and stretched out his bum leg. It felt good to be off his feet. While he pretended to be untroubled about his injuries, the walk from the ER, the elevator to the top floor, and the few minutes standing in Ben-Judah’s room had worn him out. He noticed Ben-Judah was a little wobbly, and the most powerful politician in the land had to help him to the chair.

  Once seated, the politician and the professor exchanged glances. Ben-Judah took the lead. “First, I offer my apologies for not bringing you into my confidence earlier, but these decisions are not made by me alone.”

  Chambers began to feel uncomfortable.

  Ben-Judah continued. “I have been up-front with you about the Copper Scroll and about John Trent’s desire to find the treasures and artifacts. All of that is true, but there is more. We have a greater, more pressing desire. We believe we can change the world, not just with significant artifacts and the recovery of Jewish treasure, but in another way.”

  “You don’t mean.” Chambers couldn’t take his eyes of his mentor. “The temple? No, you can’t be thinking that.”

  Ben-Judah fell silent.

  “You are thinking that? Really? The temple. You think you can rebuild the temple.”

  “Yes.” Ben-Judah didn’t waver. “We know we can.”

  “Oh Professor,” Chambers said, “that’s an illusion. It’s been a long-held dream of the Jews since the first century. I know that. I get that. If I were Jewish, I’d want the same thing, but this isn’t the first century. Things have changed.”

  “Not the important things, David.”

  Chambers rubbed his face. “I’d say the Dome of the Rock that sits on the temple location might be a problem. I’m just guessing here, but I don’t think the Muslim Quarter is going to help you relocate their most holy site.”

  “Don’t be snide, David,” Amber said. “Give them a chance to explain.”

  “If this gets out, then we’ll all be in more danger … than … before. Wait. It has gotten out, hasn’t it? It must have.”

  “What are you getting at?” Amber looked frightened and embarrassed at the same time.

  “Think about it, Amber. The explosion. Why blow up the tunnel if they were after the treasure? They weren’t trying to get the treasure; they were trying to keep us from getting to it.”

  “Who?”

  Yakov cleared his throat in the authoritative way a father quiets children without saying anything. All eyes turned his way.

  “We don’t have proof yet, but our intelligence forces believe Hussein Al-Malik is behind the troubles. He’s a former Jordanian archaeologist turned terrorist leader working with an elite Hamas group. He has been very vocal in ridiculing the idea that we Jews have a connection to the Promised Land.”

  “You mentioned this back in one of our initial meetings, David.” Ben-Judah rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I did. In the 1980s, PLO head Yasser Arafat denied the historical kingdoms of David and Solomon. No one in the field took him seriously.”

  “But his followers did, and others have joined that chorus,” Yakov said. “Al-Malik, a trained archaeologist, gives the lie credibility in the world, if not in the scientific community. We think he might be behind the murder of the Hebrew University student and the bombing of the tunnel. He has many followers, and it is very possible that he put one of his men on the team of workers who helped bring in equipment during the night. Such groups keep a large number of clean operatives on their payroll; people who have never been in trouble, have no police record, and have never been seen with known terrorists. They’re sleepers, called upon only on special occasions. It will take some time to find out who carried in the explosives. I should tell you that investigators will want to talk to you both, especially you, Dr. Chambers, since you’re the only living person to have seen the device.” He stopped abruptly. “Forgive me. That was insensitive. I’m afraid that this job has made me more callous than is socially acceptable.”

  “You know for certain that Al-Malik is behind this?” Chambers hadn’t had time to think about the who of the explosion, just the fact that it happened.

  “We believe so, but don’t ask how we know. I won’t tell you.” The prime minister sat stone faced.

  “So how does Al-Malik know your intention? I lead the field teams, and I didn’t know. Although I should have guessed.”

  Yakov answered. “My intelligence people tell me there is a mole in your group.”

  “Who?”

  Yakov shook his head. “We don’t know. If we did, we would know a great deal more.”

  The comment sounded ominous, and Chambers didn’t want to know the threat behind the comment. He slipped to the edge of the sofa in preparation to stand, but the pain in his leg made him rethink the idea. He settled back. “I go back to my original comment. You can’t rebuild the temple without destroying the Dome of the Rock, and you know what would happen then. Blood would flow in the gutters. Jewish blood. Muslim blood. Innocent blood.”

  “David,” Ben-Judah began, “as you know, the exact location of the temple has been debated for centuries. We now have evidence that the true location is just north of the Dome of the Rock. We believe the ancient temples stood in a direct east-west line from the sealed Easter Gate to the Western Wall. It’s a vast, open space with no significant Islamic shrines or mosques. There is no need to tear down their structure to build ours.”

  “This is madness. It’s too dangerous, Professor. The Arab nations and their allies will stop at nothing to keep you from erecting a third temple in the middle of Jerusalem.”

  “Dr. Chambers, listen to me. My people are behind this. Two-thirds of the Israeli population want to see the temple rebuilt. That includes religious and secular Jews.”

  Amber spoke up. “Why would nonreligious Jews care?”

  “Because the temple will make a statement to the world. Israel is here to stay. The Jewish state will be here forever.”

  “David, this is our land,” Ben-Judah said. “God gave it to us through Father Abraham. The temple is the heart of our nation. Yes, there will be opposition. There was opposition against the world recognizing Israel as a valid country. The temple must be built.”

  “And you need the treasures mentioned in the Copper Scroll to fund its construction?” Amber asked.

  “It’s more than that, Amber.” Chambers spoke before the others. “Think of the treasures mentioned. Our attention is drawn to the billion dollars of silver and gold, but there is mention of priestly garments, oil of anointing used for kings and high priests, gold vessels given as offerings, cups, sprinkling basins, libation pitchers, tithe vessels, sacred garments, and more. Now that I think about it, a billion dollars of gold and silver isn’t that much in today’s world. There are scores of billionaires, including John Trent. He could sell off a company and fund the rebuilding himself. The real treasure they want us to find has to do with temp
le artifacts. Isn’t that right, Professor?”

  “It is, David. As usual, you cut to the heart of the matter.” Ben-Judah leaned forward. “Imagine it, David. A temple to rival the one of the first century, standing in the heart of the greatest city in the world. And you’re making that happen.”

  Ben-Judah’s word’s ignited something in Chambers, but he kept his dour expression. “This can’t end well.”

  “It can, David.” Amber touched his arm. “If God wants this, then it will come to pass. You used to believe that. This is the kind of thing you lived for. Finding evidence proving the Bible’s accuracy. Imagine the statement that would be made by finding artifacts associated with the temple.”

  “And it is not just the rebuilding of the temple, David. There’s more.” Ben-Judah spoke with renewed enthusiasm.

  “Professor, please,” Yakov said.

  “He has the right to know everything. He nearly died for our mission.”

  Yakov frowned but waved the professor on. “You know, Abram is the only man on the planet who can speak to me that way.”

  “I have many childhood stories to tell on you, my friend. That’s why you tolerate me.” Ben-Judah sobered again. “You of course know of the Sanhedrin.”

  David cocked his head. “Yes. They were the ancient Jewish court. Twenty-three judges sat in every city in the land, and the Great Sanhedrin had seventy-one members. They met in the Hall of Hewn Stones at the temple—well, in the first century they did. That body served as the supreme court. They dealt with religious and political life. Jesus was tried before them.”

  “But it ended with the destruction of the temple by the Romans,” Amber said.

  “Not quite,” David said. “Its power was greatly reduced, and it relocated to various cities over time. Gamaliel VI was the last president. That was in.” He struggled to recall the date. Ben-Judah rescued him.

  “It was 425 of the Common Era. What else do you know, David?”

  “There have been several attempts to revive it. Maimonides argued that it should be reinstituted. That was during the twelfth century. If memory serves, several rabbis have tried to re-create the Sanhedrin.”