“I’m starting to feel paranoid.” Chambers pulled his arm away.
“Good. It’s about time. This way.”
They walked past wood crates and cardboard boxes. One area looked set aside for office supplies. They moved through a door into the office area, then walked by a copy room, a break room, and a kitchenette. Landau asked Chambers, “Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
“They’ve set up in one of the lecture rooms. As a college professor, you should feel right at home.”
“Except my students don’t think I’m an agent of evil. Well, most don’t.”
“Humor. That’s good. It means you’re on your game.”
“We’ll see.”
They started down a corridor. Chambers could hear the low rumble of people talking.
“Stay on my heels,” Landau said. “We’re going straight to the front.”
They crossed the wide threshold between the corridor and the lecture room. The place was filled with men and women. The room looked like it could hold ninety to one hundred people, but it felt like twice that number was present. Those standing turned; those who had been seated stood. A chorus of “Dr. Chambers” filled the air. Chambers did as he was told; he kept his head down and followed Landau to the front. That’s when he noticed the other agents had remained at the back of the room. He supposed there was some security reason for that.
A man Chambers’s age sat in a fiberglass classroom seat just to the right of a highly polished wood lectern. He had coal-black hair, dark eyes, and a face that looked used to smiling, although the smile he offered was forced. He extended his hand. Judging by the man’s damp palm, he was nervous.
“Dr. Asher Doron,” Chambers said with a nod. “Thank you for hosting this.”
“Dr. Chambers. I’m not sure I had a choice.” His accent was profound, and his English exceptional. “I will introduce you. I’m afraid it will be short.”
“Would it be more comfortable for you if I just started.”
“Well—”
“I’ll take care of it, Dr. Doron. You’ve done your part.”
Chambers walked to the lectern. Before he managed to plant his feet, several people were standing, hands raised, shouting his name. “If everyone will have a seat, we’ll get started.”
More shouting, more camera flashes, more questions.
“Please, if you’ll be seated I’ll do my best to get to everyone—”
More bedlam. Chambers resorted to an old teacher’s trick. He clasped his hands behind his back, took one step away from the lectern and waited. It took five minutes for everyone to get the point. Once everyone was seated and order had been restored, he returned to the lectern.
“Thank you. My name is Dr. David Chambers. I am a biblical archaeologist and the head of a team of archaeologists working in the Palestine area. It has been made clear to me that there is some confusion going on about our work. As is often the case in science, progress is sometimes kept secret until sufficient work is done to make certain that false information does not leak and thereby misinform the citizens, who have a right not only to the archaeology of their nations but to the correct information. This is the reason I am here with you this morning.”
He paused to take in the crowd. It was a mix of Muslims, Jews, and secular media. “The first thing to understand is that we are working with the approval of the local authorities. Second, there is a misguided rumor that we have somehow committed an inappropriate act against the Muslim holy shrine. Know this: We have committed no such act nor would we. We are a team of scientists studying the past. That is all.”
He let his gaze fall on a young woman with a dark hijab covering her hair. “Would you honor us with the first question?” He was careful not to smile. Americans had a bad enough reputation without him looking like he was hitting on an Islamic woman.
She seemed embarrassed by the sudden attention. Others shot their hands up, but he ignored them. The woman rose. “What exactly are you looking for in your excavations?” She sat quickly.
“As I mentioned, I and the leaders of my team are biblical archaeologists. That means we focus our attention on biblical history. For me, that means I focus on peoples and events in biblical times. While I’ve worked on digs dealing with pre-Abrahamic peoples, I have spent most of my time dealing with what Christians call New Testament times: events after about 30 CE. The primary focus of our research has to do with one of the early Jewish sects called the Essenes. We are focusing on some of their work.”
A man in the back row popped up. His face was stern and his eyes narrow. “So you’re out to prove the Christian Bible is true?”
“Archaeology doesn’t work that way, sir. There are many historical events recorded in the Bible, and people like me often use that information as a starting point. However, every archaeologist sets out to find facts, not to prove a point.”
The man started to speak again, but Chambers quickly pointed to a Jewish woman in the front row, hoping for a friendly question. “Can you tell us about the deaths at the Dead Sea?”
His heart stuttered.
The woman elaborated on the question. “I have received reports that at one of your digs, not far from the Dead Sea, a number of people died. Is that true?”
Chambers blinked and wished Yakov was here to see how bad an idea all this was. “Yes. It is true. Four people died in a cave-in: three aides to our team and a photographer.”
“Dr. Chambers, what caused the cave-in?” The woman showed no emotion; she was a machine making notes on a small pad.
“That is being investigated. I have not heard final word—”
“But it was caused by an explosion, was it not?”
“Since I have not received a final report on the tragedy, I can’t give a definitive answer, but yes, you are probably right.”
“You weren’t in the tunnel were you?”
Who was this woman? “No.”
“That seems convenient.”
Asher Doron stood and started to speak. Chambers waved him off. “Convenient? What’s your name, please?”
“Amit Ferber, Tel Aviv Post.”
“There was nothing convenient about it. Lives were lost. I will never forget them or how they died. Would you have been happier if the body count was higher?”
She didn’t reply.
“Does anyone have a thoughtful question?” It was a fight. His first inclination was to walk out. The question infuriated him.
A man in the middle of the room rose. Chambers had troubled placing his ethnicity. The man had a short beard and short dark hair with ample gray and wore a suit but no tie. He had an accent, but it was thin and indistinct, like a child born in one culture but reared in another. “If I may, Dr. Chambers. Your skill, intellect, research, and passion have gone before you. You are to be respected for your past work, but I must wonder about your present activities.”
“Where I come from, that’s called a backhanded compliment.” A few people chuckled. Most, it appeared, did not understand the colloquialism.
“Do you deny being at the Dome of the Rock yesterday?”
“I, like thousands, was somewhere near the site.”
“Is that where Herod’s tunnel is?”
Chambers felt like he was being interrogated in court. “It is one of two entry points. The other is in Jericho.”
“How far does the tunnel extend under the Dome?” The man flashed an insincere grin.
“Not a single foot. As I said it runs to old Jericho.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
Chambers shook his head. “I have no expectations. I’ve told you the truth. You are free to fabricate whatever story you wish.”
He nodded. “When will the construction begin, Dr. Chambers?”
Chambers stomach twisted. “We’re archaeologists. We dig; we don’t build. Perhaps you’re thinking of an architect.”
“Please, Dr. Chambers. There is no need to be rude. I am asking you when construc
tion of the third Jewish temple begins.”
Several gasps punctured the air.
His spine felt awash in ice water. “Mr.… Mr.… You never gave your name.”
“Behzad Raad. I write for a small but influential paper in Iran.”
“Mr. Raad, your people have a rich history and have shared many great scholars with the world. None of them would make the mistake you are making. I have said nothing about a third temple. Yes, I know there have been several movements among the Jews to build another temple, but none has ever succeeded. You will have to save that question for one of them.”
“Isn’t it true that a gun battle occurred in the tunnel yesterday? Isn’t it true that several men died, including a number of your workers? Isn’t it true, that the Shin Bet is providing security for you and your team?”
Chambers had always been an unsuccessful liar. The only thing he could think of was to refocus the truth. “I’m not sure who your source is, but I suggest you consult some other people. Let me make this clear. I am a biblical archaeologist. All my team leaders are biblical archaeologists. We are not in the business of building temples. As far as the temple goes, most think it’s an impossible task.”
“Would it be more possible if Israel had, say, the treasures of the Copper Scroll?”
He was in verbal quicksand. Every comment, every question drew him deeper and deeper into his doom. He cleared his throat. “A very interesting proposition, Mr. Raad. Perhaps you should give up reporting for fiction writing.”
Two people were kind enough to laugh.
Raising a hand, Chambers said. “I appreciate your time and attention. This has been an honor, and thanks to Mr. Raad, entertaining. I’m afraid I must return to my work, but I want to say this one more time. We have not tunneled beneath the Dome of the Rock, nor do we plan to. Please don’t let rumors keep you from being the professionals I know you all are. Thank you.”
Questions flew like arrows, but Chambers ignored them all. He refused to look at the faces. Landau and the others rushed him from the room and into a side room to wait until the others had left.
“Did that go as badly as I think it did?” he asked Landau.
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Really?”
“No.”
THIRTY-ONE
How did the press conference go?” Amber sounded cheerful over the cell phone.
“That’s like asking Abraham Lincoln if he enjoyed his Booth.” It was good to hear her voice. For a moment it made him forget his embarrassment, but just for a moment.
“What? Oh, I get it. It’s a pun.” She paused, but Chambers could hear her breathing over the military-grade, encrypted cell phone. “That bad?”
“I suppose it could have been worse. No, wait. It couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry, David. I know you didn’t want to do it. It was a lose-lose situation.”
He looked at Landau, who rode in the back of the SUV with him. “I think it was a setup. A couple of the press members had information they couldn’t possibly know without help.”
“But who could be sharing information?”
“I can think of a dozen people. It’s always the one you least expect. For all I know, ol’ Hiram here could be on the take.”
Landau glared at him. “You know I can hear you, right? I can also reach you, if you know what I mean.”
Chambers tried to grin but his mouth refused.
“Where are you now?” Amber asked.
“Driving back to the hotel, where I plan to hide under the bed.”
She chuckled, but he had the impression it had nothing to do with his weak humor. “Sounds uncomfortable. I have a better idea. Come to the … first site. We have something to show you.”
That was Amber, cautious even over an encrypted phone. “Maybe later. I have a noose to make—”
“Stop it, David. Get your rear end over here, and bring your biggest smile.”
“Just tell me what you’ve found—” The line went dead. “Amber? Amber?”
“Does that happen often?” Landau did a poor job of concealing his grin.
“What?”
“Women hanging up on you. I’m guessing you’ve grown used to it.”
“Nice guy. Kick a man when he is down.” A second later. “We need the helicopter.”
“For what?”
“Amber says she and Nuri have found something.”
Landau made a call.
Within the hour, Chambers was walking up the slope to the staircase in what little remained of the previously unknown Essene compound. Landau walked behind. They paused long enough to watch the helo take to the air again.
Ascending the slope required Chambers’s careful attention. One misstep and he could twist an ankle. For an instant, that seemed like a welcome idea. Physical pain was preferable to the emotional and intellectual beating he was taking.
“Glad you could make it.”
Chambers looked up and saw Amber leaning next to the opening, arms crossed in front of her. Her wide smile gave Chambers a lift. “I’d rather be here than where I was a little while ago.”
“Let me help you forget that.” She disappeared into the maw of the tunnel.
“I think she’s teasing you, pal.” Landau passed him as they continued up the grade.
“More like tormenting me.”
Moments later they exchanged the warm, bright sun for the dim tunnel. Chambers hesitated at the opening. He had not been back to the spot since the tragedy. Images of blood-soaked stone strobed in his mind.
“Sometimes it’s best not to think, Doc. Just do.” Landau started down the tunnel.
“Got that from a fortune cookie, did ya?”
“Personal experience.”
What has this man seen in his career? What has he done? Chambers took Landau’s advice and kept moving forward.
Workers, most likely the ones sitting in the shade of the canopies at the foot of the hill, had cleared the tunnel of debris and had even used thick hardwood to replace the steps they had destroyed to access the hidden treasure. The last portion of the tunnel showed damage from the explosion and cave-in. Posts, beams, and narrow metal slabs shored up the ceiling and weak areas of the wall. The dead-end wall was still in place but deeply chipped and cracked. There was something else: a ragged hole about a meter in diameter.
The smiling face of Amber appeared from the other side. “Come on in. We’ve been expecting you.”
Chambers crawled through the hole, glad he had taken time to change into his work clothes. They suspected a space was behind the wall when they first examined the tunnel. The explosion and the deaths it brought kept them from pursuing the investigation. Now Chambers stood in a stone room with a low ceiling. He could stand straight, but Landau had to keep his head low. The whole space was the size of a bedroom. Lights filled the area with yellow illumination.
Nuri stood shoulder to shoulder with Amber, his hands in his pockets. He looked smug. Amber looked ready to explode with glee.
“Okay. I’m here.”
Without a word, Amber and Nuri parted, allowing Chambers to see the wall behind them. Both retreated to side walls. At the back wall rested several objects covered in dust. The first thing to catch Chambers’s eye was a table, a meter long and half that in width. Around the table top was a handcrafted ornamental edge. The table stood on four tapered legs. Nuri or Amber had removed some of the grime revealing gleaming gold.
Chambers let his eyes shift to another object, a large menorah, also made of gold. There were also smaller objects, flasks of gold.
“What do you think?” Amber asked.
Chambers leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, his body swaying. The room spun. Sweat dotted his face. His stomach clenched.
“Yeah,” Amber said, “we had the same reaction.”
“Is this what I think it is?” Landau asked.
Nuri spoke for the first time since they arrived. “If you think that’s the holy Table of Shewbrea
d and the menorah that was in the Holy of Holies of the temple, then yes.”
Chambers straightened, then walked to the table. With obvious respect, he extended a hand and touched it. The hand trembled. Tears formed in his eyes.
“Shewbread? I really should have paid attention in Shabbat school.” Landau sounded puzzled.
“It’s from Exodus 25.” Amber moved to Chambers’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Twelve loaves of bread were to be kept on the table of gold. Once a week, priests would replace the twelve unleavened loaves with fresh bread. Tradition teaches that the old bread remained fresh and warm. It was a type of offering to God. Only the priests were allowed to eat of the bread, although King David and his men ate some during a difficult time.”
“So this was in the second temple?” Landau asked.
“Yes.” Chambers found his voice. “It’s … beautiful.”
A thudding, pounding sound poured into the small space.
“Sounds like a helicopter.” Landau was out the opening a moment later. The others followed.
Chambers arrived at the tunnel entrance a few moments after Landau. He took a step back when he saw Landau unholster his weapon.
“Trouble?”
“I don’t know yet. Are you expecting someone?” Landau scanned the sky.
“Are you kidding? I didn’t know I was going to be here.”
“There.” Landau pointed to the north. “It’s making a wide sweep. Indirect approach. Not something an unfriendly would do. I wish I had binoculars.”
“It’s not our helicopter?”
“No.” Landau kept his eyes skyward. “Sounds like a military bird.”
“Whose military bird?”
Nuri and Amber arrived and stood behind them. “Who is it?” Amber asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Chambers said.
The copter approached slowly and lowered to the landing area. “It’s Israeli military. Sikorsky S-70, probably out of Hatzerim air base.” Landau relaxed, and Chambers took his cue from him. Life was surreal to Chambers. His mind seemed to float in a sea of emotion from the press conference to the recent finds. More than anything, he wanted a couple of days to sort things out. He was sure he wasn’t going to get one.
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