“I think so.”
“Okay, so far it just sounds like symbolic religious clothing, but he wore something else. Something some scholars believe served as a communication device, a way for God to answer questions.”
“You mean God needs a device to be heard?”
Chambers grinned. “No. It’s not about what God needs. The Bible shows God speaking directly with Adam and Eve, Elijah, Jonah, and even twice in the New Testament: once at Jesus’ baptism and once at the Transfiguration. Those events are rare, and He seldom spoke to groups. He appeared in various manifestations to groups. Think of the children of Israel being led through the wilderness by a pillar of fire by night and a column of smoke by day. But when God had a message for the people, He spoke to Moses, who would then deliver it.”
“It’s God’s way,” Amber said. “The biblical record shows that He chooses leaders, speaks to them, and expects others to follow that message. In the Old Testament days, during the time of kings, God appointed prophets to deliver His message to the people or directly to the king. Seventeen of the Old Testament books are named after prophets. They are called writing prophets, because their messages were recorded. There were many other prophets.”
“You’re talking about guys like Isaiah, Ezekiel, and the like,” Landau said.
“Yes, and many more.” Chambers couldn’t stop grinning. “The point is, God usually spoke through one person who then proclaimed that message. It’s not a limitation on His part; it’s a choice.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with these rocks?”
Chambers shifted his weight and studied the stones. They bore engraved Hebrew letters. “It’s a bit of a mystery. Here’s what we know. The high priest was to keep the Urim and Thummim in the breastpiece. Many scholars think the jeweled breastpiece had a pocket to hold the stones and the high priest would remove them when he or other leaders needed a word from God.”
“How did that work?”
Chambers exchanged glances with Amber and Nuri, who was now sitting up. “No one knows. It’s not clear. Some think Urim and Thummim mean “light” and “dark”; others think the words mean “revelation” and “decision.” There are many ideas about the etymology, but no certainty. Some think the stones moved. Some think individual Hebrew letters would light up. There is no end to the speculation. The truth is no one knows. They haven’t been seen in … what? Twenty-five hundred years?”
Amber spoke in a low voice. “Tradition says there were five things missing in the second temple that were in the first temple: the ark of the covenant, the sacred fire, the Shekinah glory of God, the Holy Spirit, and the Urim and Thummim.”
“And there is the question,” Nuri said. “If the Urim and Thummim disappeared fifteen hundred years before the Essenes, then what are they doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Chambers said. “I just don’t know.”
“We have another problem,” Landau said. “I assume these things are extremely valuable.”
“They’re beyond value. They’re priceless.” Chambers returned the stones to the fractured jar.
“Then we need to move them to a safe place. We already know people are willing to kill to stop you. I don’t think they’re done.”
“It’s a shame the professor can’t see this.” Nuri stood, still shaken by the find.
Chambers said nothing.
It was close to midnight when Chambers and Amber arrived at the hospital. As before, they came in through a side door to a hallway that had been cordoned off. Security men dressed as hospital personnel patrolled the area. Once the area in front of the elevators had been cleared, Landau led the two to the upper floor and to the private room, where Ben-Judah waited. Security on the wing had been doubled, as had the escort around Chambers and Amber. Chambers carried a computer bag.
“I’ll let you two go in alone.” Landau waited at the door. “You’re sure the old man won’t have a heart attack?”
“I nearly did,” Chambers said. “I’ll call if he keels over.”
Chambers and Amber slipped into the room and received the always gracious greeting. “They told me about the attack in the tunnel. Sad. Horrible. Those poor workers. But what of you? You are well?”
“We weren’t harmed.” Chambers moved to the seating area. “Landau’s men saved our lives. I heard that two were injured but will recover.”
“Yes, I was told the same. I praise HaShem for your safety. I have also been told you found something important. Landau said so when he set up this meeting. Please, I must know what it is. He wouldn’t say.”
“I asked him not to say anything on the phone.” Chambers waited for Amber to sit on the sofa, then joined her. Ben-Judah took his usual seat to the side and near the coffee table.
“I am sure that is wise, but please, don’t keep an old man in suspense. Did you find votive vessels? priest vestments?”
Amber beamed. “Yes, in a way. Show him, David.”
“First, you should know that Landau has arranged to use a secured vault on one of Israel’s military bases. He had to ask for the prime minister’s help, which he received. We’ll keep these and some of the other things there we’ve found. He won’t tell me where.”
“You must trust him, David.” Ben-Judah fidgeted and glanced at the computer bag like a child waiting permission to open a birthday present.
Chambers opened the bag and withdrew a metal case about the size of a large candy box. He set it on the coffee table. The box had a roller-style combination, similar to those on a briefcase. Chambers dialed a number. He slid from the sofa to one knee, moved the case in front of Ben-Judah, and without a word, opened it.
For Landau, the day had been long. It began early and included helping find a secret tunnel that apparently contained religious objects beyond value and a gunfight that left two of his men injured, five workers dead, and an equal number of dead attackers. The investigation into the attack would be secret and run by the government. The prime minister would make certain of that.
The weariness he felt robbed him of some of his strength. He leaned against the wall next to Ben-Judah’s door and allowed his eyes to close for a moment.
The he heard a howl.
He was in the room a half second later, his Jericho 941 handgun drawn and ready to be used.
Ben-Judah was in the middle of the room—dancing.
THIRTY
Even from the twelfth floor of the hotel, Chambers could hear the disturbance. It began early. He had just stepped from the shower, towel around his waist, water dripping from his hair, when he noticed a sound he couldn’t recognize. Distant sounds from the busy street often filtered through the thick glass window, and he had grown accustomed to their muted presence. This sound, however, was new and unsettling.
Chambers stepped to the window and gazed down the one hundred fifty feet to the street below. Cars and delivery trucks that had, day after day, flowed easily in front of the hotel were bunched nose to tail, moving only inches at a time. In the street and on the sidewalks were crowds, shoulder to shoulder, holding signs and chanting. He was too far removed to hear their words, but their combined voices hummed through the window.
He saw something else: vans with markings of local television stations. Picking up the remote from the night table next to his bed, Chambers turned on the television, something he had only done a few times during the last few weeks. A little searching found an English-language news station.
He sat on the bed and watched. Through the camera lens, the crowd looked twice the size as what he saw from his hotel window. Men, women, and children marched and carried signs, some in Hebrew, some in Arabic, and a few in English. One sign read, BLASPHEMERS, INFIDELS. That was disturbing enough; more unsettling was a large placard of his photo with a blood-red X painted over it. He recognized the photo. It was the publicity shot used for his last book.
A reporter pulled a man from the crowd. His dress revealed him to be an Arab. “Why are you here?” the reporter
asked in English. Chambers was pretty sure the reporter already knew.
“Our holy site has been defiled by the infidel archaeologists from the United States and their Hebrew puppets.” Spit flew from the man’s lips as he shouted into the microphone.
“How have they defiled your holy site? Which holy site?”
“Masjid Qubbat As-Sakhrah. It is a holy site. The followers of Allah will not allow this to go unpunished.”
“Kipat Hasela—the Dome of the Rock. Tell me, sir, how did they defile the site?”
“A tunnel. They have dug a tunnel beneath the blessed site.”
“Oh brother,” Chambers said to the television. He turned off the television. He didn’t have the stomach for any more nonsense.
His phone rang. It was Amber. “Have you looked outside?”
“Yes.”
“What about the news?”
“Yeah. A little. I just turned it off. It’s ridiculous. Someone is feeding lies to these people.”
“The problem with lies is that some people believe them to be truth.”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’ll settle down soon.”
Amber disagreed. “I don’t think so. Neither does Landau. I just spoke to him. He wants to meet with us in the conference room. He’s setting up a video conference.”
“With whom?”
“Guess.”
“Okay. I’ll be there. When?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“That’s quick. You know, this project is hard enough without this.”
“You can’t say you’re surprised, David. Those who do God’s work always face opposition.”
Chambers didn’t know how to respond. At one time, he would have quickly agreed; when he started this project, he would have wasted no time ridiculing the idea. Now he was content to ignore the comment. “I’ll be there.”
A thirty-inch television monitor hung from the conference-room wall. Chambers, Amber, Nuri, and Landau looked at it, seeing the drawn face of Nathan Ben Yakov. To Chambers it looked like the man hadn’t slept for several days.
Yakov wasted no time with pleasantries. He launched into the matter. “There are protests in Amman, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, and several other cities. In one case, violence has broken out. Three Russian Orthodox priests were beaten. One may not live through the night. In Tel Aviv, twenty or thirty Jews began throwing rocks into the crowd of protestors. Of course, we’ve made arrests on both sides. Protests are nothing new for our country, but I have intel linking these back to Al-Malik, who is feeding the fury.”
“He’s the one who’s fabricating the lies?” Nuri asked.
“I’m sure he’s behind it, although there are probably many layers between him and the protestors.” Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose. “Al-Malik gave an interview on Jordanian television. His bottom line: the people have a right to voice an opinion, considering the insult they’ve endured against the holy site.”
“Doesn’t it bother anyone that none of this is true?” Amber said. She was dressed in clean work clothes: jeans, brown long-sleeve shirt, and boots.
“The first thing you learn in politics, Dr. Rodgers, is that truth is not essential in persuasion. People will believe lies; they will believe the truth. Most days I don’t think they know the difference.”
“So what do we do, Mr. Prime Minister?” Chambers said. “I can have all the teams stand down for a while, at least until things settle. We have plenty of lab work and cataloging to do.”
Yakov waited before replying. “It may not go away. My gut tells me they know more than they’re letting on. They knew when you’d be in the tunnel; they knew when we were working by the Dead Sea and planted a bomb. Things may get worse before they get better.”
“What do you want us to do?” Landau asked.
“I want Dr. Chambers to hold a press conference.”
“Me?” Chambers snapped his head around. “With due respect, sir, I may not be your best choice. I’m American, and I’m the lead archaeologist. To the protesters, I represent the problem.” He thought of the placard with his picture on it.
“That, my friend, makes you the best choice. Confronting this head on will show that we are being up-front about everything. Besides you have great experience with the media. Are you not the Carl Sagan of archaeology?”
Chambers tapped the table with his finger. “That might be an exaggeration. Sir, I don’t wish to be argumentative. You have shown me nothing but the greatest kindness—”
“Now you sound like a diplomat, Dr. Chambers. Get to it.”
“We’re not being up-front with everyone. They know we’re working in secret. They know we’re removing artifacts, which we’re keeping under wraps—”
“I’ve arranged for the conference to begin in one hour—”
“One hour?”
“I’m sorry about the short notice, but this is a delicate matter. My press secretary will release a statement saying that I’ve called for an investigation into the matter. For now, that’s all I plan to say on the matter. Mr. Landau will make sure you are safely delivered to the Israel Antiquities Authority, where a room will be set up for the conference. The head of the IAA will introduce you. He is … aware of all things. Please, Dr. Chambers, be diplomatic. I have seen video of your television interviews on American talk shows. That is the Dr. Chambers the people need to see.”
Not the one who’s been a pain in the rear, you mean. “Yes sir. I understand.”
“Forgive me,” Yakov said. “As always, there are other matters that demand my attention.”
The screen went blank.
“Well, well.” Nuri grinned. “Archaeologist, professor, author, and now worldly diplomat. And yet, for some reason, I don’t envy you.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t envy me either.”
“How did they know which hotel we were staying in?” Chambers sat in the back of a bread delivery truck. Across from him, on a small metal seat, sat Landau. Three other Shin Bet men filled the remaining space. The truck smelled of fresh baked bread, and the aroma was making Chambers, who had skipped breakfast, hungry. A glance at the deck showed holes where brackets had held metal shelves until the vehicle was pressed into duty.
“I can think of a dozen ways. They could have seen you coming and going; they could have been alerted by an employee; they may know more about me than I like to think. These are not stupid people. They have their ways, just as we have ours. That, and it’s a small country.”
“Do you think this is wise? I mean, having me speak to the press?”
“First, it doesn’t matter what I think; it matters what Prime Minister Yakov thinks. Second, yes, it is a good idea. Al-Malik and his people are trying to demonize you. You saw the placards with your photo, right?”
“Yes, not very flattering.”
Landau shrugged. “You’ve looked better.”
“Hey!”
“Just trying to get you to relax. Look, just tell them the truth about everything you can, but not about the things you can’t.”
“Really? That’s your suggestion? That’s impossible.”
“How many impossible things have you seen over the last few months?”
Landau had him there. If someone told him that yesterday he would help uncover the breastpiece of the high priest and possibly the Urim and Thummim, he would have laughed them to scorn.
“I’m going on record saying this is a bad idea. A real bad idea.”
Hiram Landau leaned forward and looked Chambers deep in the eyes. Chambers expected to feel the man’s hand around his throat again, but he made no threatening actions. “Listen, I know you and I have locked horns a few times.” He chuckled. “No doubt we’ll do it again, but you should know this: you are one of the most driven and capable men I’ve met, and I believe in what you’re doing. I have a job to do and I won’t let anyone stand in the way of my doing it, not even you. Still, you have my admiration.”
“Thank you. I think.”
&nb
sp; “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Man, you are a buzzkill.”
One of the other Shin Bet men snickered, then stopped abruptly. Landau wasn’t smiling.
“Two minutes,” the driver said.
“Understood.” Landau raised a cell phone to his ear, did a speed dial, then waited. “Status?” He listened. “Good. In two.”
Chambers’s stomach began to do flips. He suddenly missed the dull part of the year when he was teaching. “We still have time to turn around.”
“Funny man.” Landau checked the position of his shoulder holster. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen …”
The bread truck pulled off the street and into the parking lot of the IAA’s administrative building. Chambers had worked with the group several times before. In addition to education, the organization provided oversight of digs in Israel and even had a police force that kept an eye on looters. The bread truck pulled to the back of the building and backed up to a small loading area. Chambers could see a wide metal roll-up door. It opened the moment the driver stopped.
Landau held a hand in front of Chambers’s face. “Wait.”
A voice came over the radio. “Clear.”
“Go.” Landau said.
Without hesitation the agents opened the back door and stepped onto the loading platform just inside the door. Before Chambers could speak, Landau had him by the arm and was moving him out the back of the vehicle. Five steps later, they were inside the small supply room, and one of the agents was closing the rolling door.
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