"Well, yeah, Ray—"
"What?" Ray quickly asked.
"What do you need to check on in the city—it can't have anything to do with Rydel, right? The others are tracking him."
Ray turned to Sal. "Sal, do you have any questions?"
"Fuck no."
Ray moved closer to Sal, quickly whispered something in his ear, and turned back to Todd. "Go ahead of us, and get yourself back to the camp. I thought your input would help in a judgment call I might have to make here, Todd. But never mind, just go."
Todd started to step closer to Ray.
"Stop. Don't get any closer."
"Okay, Ray—easy. I'll follow without another word."
"Good."
Ray continued on, putting his translator back in place, wrapping his shemagh around it. Sal and Todd obediently followed.
Sal and Todd trailed behind Ray for almost half an hour, with Ray changing his direction here and there, looking inside his cloak at his gun—clearly tracking someone. Todd scuttled closer to Sal, staring ahead at Ray while he did, and spoke to Sal in a whisper.
"Who the hell is he tracking?"
"I don't know," Sal said without looking at Todd.
As if he could somehow hear the two, Ray came to a stop ahead of Sal and Todd, turning his hooded head around. After staring at the two for a few seconds, Ray turned away and joined a passing throng of men and women in tan, brown, and black tunics visiting the city of Jerusalem. He then ran around a jagged stone-layered street corner. Sal and Todd lost sight of him. The two ran to the corner of the street, rounded it, and came upon a massive four-walled structure they had seen before. A lengthy stone staircase led up to a white edifice with several arched entranceways distanced from one another, providing entry inside the majestic carved-stone masterpiece. The two watched Ray ascend the staircase—the same stone staircase that the colonel, Ray, and the rest of the Unit hurriedly descended after their arrival.
Sal and Todd bolted after Ray and entered an area where a crowd of hundreds stood inside a large white-and-tan stone court surrounded by thick pillars. All in the crowd were silent, even the children. The people formed a circle around one man who could barely be seen through the multitude around Him. The man in the center pointed His forefinger toward the sky and stood that way for almost two minutes in silence. The man then began to speak to the crowd around Him.
Sal and Todd spotted Ray near the back of the crowd and rushed over to him.
Ray saw the two running his way and removed his translator. Sal and Todd reached Ray, tried to speak, but were silenced by Ray holding his arm up, signaling them not to say a word. "Follow me," Ray ordered and then put his translator back over his mouth.
Ray circled the crowd. Sal and Todd stayed close behind, following Ray as he searched for a better viewpoint, coming to a stop between two women wearing faded black shawls over their heads.
The woman to his right gave Ray a smile, then turned her attention back to the sermon. The woman started to walk away, carrying a small sack of food in her arms, making her way closer so she could get a better view of the preaching man.
On the move once more, Ray searched again for a better viewpoint, not quite able to get a good look at the preaching man's face, unintentionally trailing the woman holding the sack of food. And then the shouts in Aramaic came.
"Stop!" yelled a man in a deep, raspy voice.
Ray ignored it and continued walking.
"Stop!" another man ordered. Ray turned to see what the shouting was all about behind him. Two temple guards clothed in black, protected by black chest plates and helmets, passed between Sal and Todd. One of the temple guards put his hand on his sword hilt, closing in on Ray, pushing people aside.
Behind the guards, Sal and Todd raised their hooded heads, lifted their Smartround guns from under their cloaks, and took aim at the two guards making their way toward Ray.
But the two temple guards just nudged Ray aside and rushed past him. Ray turned around to see the guards approach the woman holding the small bag of provisions. The taller of the two men reached out for the woman's shoulder and spun her around; she almost tripped, falling to one knee. Rising, the woman stood upright with her head lowered.
The smaller of the two guards approached the woman and pushed the large man away from her. He gently brushed dirt off the woman's clothing, then faced her.
"Maryam."
The woman lifted her head slightly.
"Tell Jesus to leave the city," the smaller temple guard demanded. "He's caused enough trouble with His words, in and outside of the temple."
The woman stoically replied after a moment.
"He will not leave the city. How could delivering the word of God cause trouble?"
The smaller temple guard nodded for the large guard to leave them. Reluctant to do so, but clearly outranked, the larger guard walked away, brushing people aside as he did, giving his superior time to talk with the woman alone.
The temple guard returned his attention back to the woman he knew by name, satisfied the ignorant goon he had been assigned to train was far enough away not to hear what he needed to say.
"His life is in danger. I tell you this for His own good. He was a close childhood friend, helped me many times. You know that. Tell Him He must leave the city."
"He will not leave the city."
The larger guard behind the two had seen enough. Yes, the man training him was his superior. However, the bloodline of his family surpassed that of the man's.
Marcus did not like being told what to do by the small man, and why should he? He would be the man's superior in no more than a year. He was sure of it. So Marcus pointed his sword at the people around him to make a path for him, and they did, backing away as he hulked forward, joining up with his superior and the woman. Marcus smiled, ripped out a handful of grapes from the sack the woman carried, and shoved them in his mouth, a juice-trail running down each side of his grinning face.
The woman looked up at Marcus from under her shawl. She had a bronzed face that the sun had been kind to over the years, long black hair with tints of gray, and beautiful, strong hazel eyes. The purity and strength of her eyes frightened the large man.
The woman looked away from him.
Marcus could not hide being afraid of the woman for a brief moment. He then quickly returned to the way he saw the world around him. Seeing it only for what he could get out of it and what would benefit him at the expense of others. But he did not entirely come back to his senses. He did not notice James—his superior. Smaller, but extremely dangerous, James had his blade under Marcus's armor before the large man realized what was happening—the cold steel resting on his spine.
Marcus quickly became aware that it did not matter what family he came from; James seemed ready to bleed him out right here over this simple woman from the market.
"Please!" Marcus begged.
"Leave us, Marcus."
James eased the cold blade away from Marcus's skin. Marcus stepped away, stumbling at the sight of the knife in James's hand. He turned and ran, disappearing into a shadowy pillared passageway off to the far right. James turned back to face the woman.
She was gone.
Before him, three men now stood with their heads lowered. James moved past the three men, but she was nowhere to be seen. He could not go after her and abandon his route of the city he patrolled. He felt remorse and conflict but could do no more. If he were spotted helping Jesus in any way, his family and his daughters might face the same consequences that this gathering of high-powered priests intended to bestow on his boyhood friend.
James turned, took two steps forward to search for Marcus, his idiot-in-training, and stopped. He stared at the same three men with their heads lowered, standing just ahead—not moving. James rushed over and approached the man in the middle, slapping a hand on the man's right shoulder.
"You, raise your head!" James yelled.
Ray looked up and stabbed the hand on his shoulder with a
n S-7 needle. The hand fell from Ray's shoulder as James stood where he was, emotionless.
"The woman you were talking to—is she the mother of Jesus?" Ray asked in his translated Aramaic.
"Yes," James answered robotically.
"Walk twenty steps ahead, drop to the ground, and fall asleep until morning," Ray ordered James, pulling the S-7 needle out of the guard's hand. Ray turned away from the guard and ran after the woman. Sal and Todd followed. Behind the three, James walked twenty steps, dropped to the ground, and fell asleep on impact.
Sal and Todd caught up with Ray, running alongside him.
Ray removed his translator and shouted at the two: "Fall back and follow me like before. Now!"
__
After finding her, Ray followed the woman through the city for just over half an hour. She then suddenly entered a hidden alleyway between two closed-for-the-evening merchant stands. Ray ran ahead so fast that he lost Sal and Todd trailing behind; the two could not see where the woman in black had gone. Ray slipped between the merchant stands and into the alleyway and caught movement ahead, just a glimpse of the woman exiting at the end of the narrow passageway. He ran down to the end of the passage, craned his neck, and watched the woman walk with a handful of other people on a path leading outside the walls of Jerusalem.
Ray turned his head around at the sound of Sal and Todd running toward him, both with their slide-out screens extended on their guns, tracking Ray.
"What is it, Ray?" Sal struggled to say, slightly winded.
"Just keep following."
With Sal and Todd trailing behind, Ray followed the woman through scattered groups of people. They walked on and made their way to a small stone city just two miles away from Jerusalem.
With the woman still in sight and now alone, Ray followed her from a distance down twisting roads with humble stone homes. The woman turned down a side road that led to a small hillside with three stone huts spaced roughly fifty feet apart from one another along the rising hill. The woman made her way up to the last home on the hillside and entered. With the sun lowering, the roof of the hut glowed in deep orange.
At the bottom of the dirt road, Ray took a step and stopped, staring at the last stone home on the hillside above. Sal and Todd approached Ray from behind and flanked him as he just stood still. Ray regarded the two and then pointed toward an overhanging tree by the side of the road.
"Wait behind that tree, and do not move."
Sal and Todd watched as Ray walked up the hill, passing the first two homes and coming to a stop at the doorstep of the last stone home. He adjusted his translator, covered it with his tan shemagh, and slowly raised his hand to knock on the door.
__
In her stone hut, Jesus's mother prepared the meal for the ones joining her tonight. She placed the last of the vegetables into a fire-heated cauldron and wearily sat in a chair next to the fire. She gazed at the flames licking their way up from the bottom of the cauldron. Face set in stone, a tear fell from Maryam's right eye, the warning from the temple guard repeating in her mind.
A knock on the door spun Maryam's head around. She was hesitant—the ones she was expecting would not be here so soon. She stood from the chair, slowly walked over to the door, and opened it, catching a glimpse of the man's face as he quickly lowered his head, hiding under the hood of his cloak. She saw enough, though, recognizing him.
"Are you hungry? Is that why you have been following me?"
As the words translated, Ray let out a quiet sigh. Despite all his special military training, she knew. He raised his head slightly and nodded.
"Come inside."
Ray entered the stone home with a fire burning in the far corner and scattered candles surrounding the surprisingly ample space inside. From the outside, the stone hut looked small. But inside, it stretched back with many rooms ahead, all candlelit.
At a table off to the side of the fire, Maryam motioned with the palm of her open hand for him to sit. Nodding, Ray took a seat at the table. He watched as Maryam used a ladle to fill two bowls from the cauldron hanging over the fire. She walked over to him.
The mother of Jesus was in front of him. Ray could feel it, just as he felt the goodness of her Son in the alleyway.
Hunted
With Clopas on his left and Lazarus on his right—both under the influence of S-7—Rydel scanned the land below with his binoculars from a mountain ridge. He was being followed.
"Who do we have following us down there?"
Through the binoculars, Rydel could see John Adams staring up at him through a pair of his own binoculars. John lowered his binoculars so that the scientist could see his eyes and disappointedly shook his head for a brief moment. He then pointed out Rydel to the members of Ray's Unit standing behind him.
Unable to hear what he was saying, Rydel could see by the veins bulging from John's neck that he was screaming at the members of Ray's Unit—screaming at them to hunt him down.
Rydel adjusted his translator and turned to Clopas by his side.
"You know the mountain well, Clopas?"
Clopas nodded.
"Hide us. Fast!"
Clopas ran, followed by Rydel and Lazarus.
At the bottom of the mountain, John, along with the members of the Unit he took with him to hunt Rydel down, ran up a dirt-and-stone path winding up the mountain. Out in front by a good thirty feet, Kevin communicated back to John.
"We're losing him, sir," he informed the colonel through his headset.
It took twenty minutes in their pursuit of Rydel to reach where he had stood before being spotted. John and the rest of Ray's Unit pointed their guns in all directions, trying to track Rydel. Ben, outlined in the fading sun, was the first to speak of what was obvious.
"He's gone, sir."
"He can't be."
"Sir, he's gone."
"How could he travel out of range in this time so fast?" John studied the mountain up and down. "No. He's here. He's inside this mountain. Deep inside where we can't track him, the smart bastard."
John glanced over the members of Ray's Unit.
"He's here."
A Meal Shared with the Mother of Jesus
Ray sat at the table inside the hut of Jesus Christ's mother with his head bent forward, the hood of his cloak shadowing his face and his shemagh concealing his translator.
Maryam placed a wooden bowl in front of Ray and one at the other side of the table, taking a seat across from him. Maryam noticed the man claiming to be hungry just staring at the food in front of him.
"Please, eat." Maryam's soothing Aramaic translated back to Ray, who sat like a statue.
Maryam looked down at her plate and noticed what was missing. With what had happened in the city, the warning from the temple soldier whom Jesus had known as a boy, she was unsteady. The man told her things she had been sickly worried about concerning Jesus. Barely able to sleep for days, she felt it inside her that her Son's time was slipping away. He was in danger of losing His life if He stayed in Jerusalem. Jesus, however, would not have any of it; when they had met days before, none of her words would deter Him from visiting the city.
Breaking away from her thoughts, Maryam stood up from the table.
"The bread. I forgot the bread."
As Maryam walked back to retrieve a loaf of bread, Ray raised his head, watching her. She returned with the bread and softly smiled at him. Ray lowered his head, waiting. Maryam broke off two pieces of bread and offered them to Ray.
From under his hood, he could see Maryam offering the bread. Ray reached out with one hand over the other with his palms up, and Maryam placed the bread in his hands.
"What is your name?" Maryam asked.
His head still down, Ray waited for his translator to decipher Maryam's words so he could respond.
"Raymond."
Maryam broke off a small piece of bread for herself and sat across the table from Ray. Like Ray, she too just looked at the food in front of her. She was hungry, but her s
tomach twisted inside with worry about her Son. Jesus was a miracle to her and the world. She'd been blessed to give birth to Him. But now, with Jesus telling her not to worry for His well-being, Maryam wanted nothing more than to take Jesus by the hand and lead Him out of the city. Make Him listen like a little boy. She was part of God's plan to bring Him into the world; she knew this. But now, at this moment, she just wanted to do what any mother would do—protect her child.
"I know your Son's preachings well. I'm a follower."
Maryam could not place the accent of the man, a very distant traveler. An odd way of speaking she had never heard before.
"Where do you come from?" she asked.
Ray half-smiled at Maryam's words. With this translator speaking for me, I must sound as if I come from another world, he thought.
"Faraway place you most likely never heard of. A long journey."
Ray tilted his head up enough to see Maryam nod at what he had said, satisfied with the answer, as she picked at the meal in front of her. From under the hood of his cloak, Ray was also able to see the obvious—she was worried, sick with it. The woman had no appetite.
"Jesus is in danger. It's true what the soldier told you in the city today."
On each side of the wooden bowl, Maryam's hands began to tremble. She slowly pushed the bowl aside and leaned across the table, reaching a trembling hand out for Ray.
"I know," Maryam said, her voice almost desperate.
Ray could see Maryam's hand out in front of him from under his hooded cloak and did not hesitate, taking her hand in his.
"I told Him not to go back to the city, but He will not listen to me." She began to weep into her free hand. After a moment, she looked at Ray, hidden under the hood of his cloak and shemagh.
"Let me see your face."
Ray hesitated.
"Raymond, let me see."
Ray pulled back the hood of his cloak but left the shemagh in place, hoping she would not ask him to remove it or to eat the meal in front of him. He could not come up with a plan on how to talk and understand her while eating.
Save Him Page 14