Chosen

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Chosen Page 12

by Lisa T. Bergren


  “That’s another story idea,” Alexana began, looking at the sea. “Due to evaporation and diversion of the water from the Jordan River by both Jordan and Israel, the Dead Sea is shrinking at an alarming rate. There have been ambitious, hugely expensive pipeline projects proposed—”

  Ridge turned her toward him and silenced her with a kiss. “And you call me a workaholic,” he said, tenderly stroking her cheek. “I have enough story ideas for a month’s work. Let’s enjoy a romantic moment, shall we?”

  “We shall,” she declared happily, kissing his dimpled chin, then rested her head on his chest as the sun’s last rays filtered through the mountains behind them, casting deep shadows on the desert and sea below.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  APRIL 10

  I’ve enjoyed being away! Thank you for inviting me!” Alexana shouted, pushing back tendrils of hair that had escaped from her braid and were whipping in the wind.

  Ridge smiled and nodded but remained silent.

  Alexana noted the growing crease in his brow and reached over to play with the curls at the base of his neck. When he looked over, his face clearly expressed his concern.

  Ridge pulled off the road and took her hand in his. He sighed heavily. “I realize that by taking you away, I was trying to protect you as much as get to know you. Now all I can think of is that I’m taking you right back into the danger zone, while I will probably be sent out on assignment. There’s no way I can keep you under lock and key.”

  “You couldn’t do that anyway,” Alexana said gently, lifting her chin. “I have a life to live, and I won’t hide away just because some threats have been made.”

  He turned to her, his frown deepening. “But Alexana, you can’t just treat these warnings like idle threats; messing with the Jihad and Hamas is serious business. They believe this is a holy war. They blow up entire busloads of people; why would they hesitate to kill one archaeologist? You can’t consider yourself exempt anymore. People like Khalil—who were once like family to you—most certainly consider you the enemy.”

  She leaned her elbow on the door and cradled her forehead in her hand. “Do you think I’m naive?” Her stomach churned as the tension between them mounted.

  “In some ways, yes.” He paused, thinking. “It’s just that your passion for your work blinds you to reality.”

  “I am well aware of my world,” Alexana said defensively. “I’ve grown up here.”

  “Yes, but maybe growing up here has made you callous. You think you’re untouchable. But your flesh is as soft and vulnerable as the next person’s. One bullet could end it all, and that makes me frantic to try and protect you.”

  She turned toward him in the seat. “I understand what you’re saying, Ridge. But I’m not the one who was shot while on assignment. Don’t you see? Your work is just as dangerous, if not more so. My family has ridden the wave of Israeli politics for years. In some ways, that protects me.” She grabbed his hand. “I hear what you’re saying. And I appreciate your fear for me. I’ll take precautions, okay? But don’t ask me to give this up.”

  Ridge’s cellular phone rang, interrupting their intense gaze.

  Grimacing, he flipped open the receiver. “McIntyre here.”

  “We’re on assignment,” Steve said without preamble. “Where are you?”

  “Ten miles outside the Old City,” Ridge said tiredly. “Where are we headed?”

  “Gaza. The team they sent has only been doing a mediocre job. They want Mr. Ratings out there ASAP to draw back some viewers from the networks.”

  “How long, do you suppose?”

  “If we leave today, three, maybe four days. Could be longer. Depends on what’s happening.”

  “Okay. I’ll grab some clean clothes at the hotel and meet you there in an hour.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Ridge sighed and clung to the steering wheel as if it might somehow sustain him. He looked over at Alexana, who waited silently to hear the news. “Suddenly my life has gotten more complicated, Dr. Roarke. Infinitely more interesting, but much more complicated.”

  Taking comfort in the fact that the dig was still more than a week away, placing Alexana temporarily out of danger, Ridge dropped her off at the Damascus Gate.

  “I think I can manage it from here,” she said as he opened the door and she stepped from the Jeep. “You need to get to your hotel. Steve will be waiting.”

  He looked with consternation from the gate to her. Then, giving in, he lifted her chin with his strong hand and kissed her softly. “Please, Alexana, be careful. You become more important to me each day. If you won’t take precautions for yourself, do it for me, okay?”

  She reached over and poked him in the chest. “And you do the same. Going to Gaza isn’t exactly like going to Honolulu.”

  “Deal.” He kissed her once more, briefly, then hopped in the Jeep. “I’ll call as soon as I’m back. I don’t think I’ll have much opportunity to contact you from there.”

  “That’s fine.” Alexana tried not to let her disappointment show. “I enjoyed being with you. I’ll be praying for you,” she said softly.

  “And I’ll try my hand at doing the same for you,” he promised, his smile returning. “Until later …”

  “Until then,” she said. Knowing they would stand there for hours unless she made a move, Alexana smiled, turned, and disappeared through the gate.

  Alexana was surprised by what awaited her at the apartment.

  “Sam!” she said, pleased to see her brother but not expecting a visit from him. Although he had a key to her apartment, he had his own flat on the other side of the city. “What are you doing—” Her voice broke off as she saw the reason for his visit.

  In the kitchen Lydia hummed and stirred a steaming pot, apparently unaware that anyone else had arrived. “Oh no,” Alexana said. “Or should I say, Wow? What is going on?”

  Hearing the sound of Alexana’s voice, Lydia turned with a taster spoon still in her mouth. Looking embarrassed, she dropped the spoon and moved toward Alexana to explain.

  “We couldn’t wait any longer,” Sam said. “We’ve been apart for over two years now, and when we saw one another in the suk today, we knew that nothing had changed.” Lydia came to stand by his side and he put an arm around her. “We’re still in love and always will be,” he said confidently, smiling down at the woman he adored.

  “And I made a decision that I would say good-bye to my family if they could not accept it,” Lydia said. “I’m hoping Father will come around. But if not, you will have to be my family now.”

  Alexana nodded soberly, her smile slowly growing. “I’m so happy for you both. It’s been torture to watch you spend this time apart, knowing you were still in love.” Her face took on a faraway look as she wondered how often she and Ridge would have to be separated. I suppose that means I think we’re in love too, she thought. Please, Lord, help me to keep some perspective in my crazy life.

  “And where have you been?” Sam asked. “I’m sorry to just barge in here, but I couldn’t reach you on the phone, and I thought it would be better to meet here than to have Lydia come to my apartment.”

  “Of course,” Alexana said. If Lydia were seen entering a man’s home—even under the most innocent of circumstances—her reputation in the tight-knit Palestinian community could be demolished. “We went to Galilee and then down to the Dead Sea.”

  “We?”

  “Ridge and I,” she said nonchalantly, setting her backpack down on the sofa beside her. But she could not keep the grin from her face.

  “Uh-oh,” her brother said. “Something tells me we’re not the only ones head over heels in love.”

  Alexana ducked her head, smiling. “I’m not sure it’s love yet, but I’m sure getting pulled in.”

  “You will be a beautiful bride!” Lydia exclaimed.

  “Whoa!” Alexana laughed. “Hold on! I just said I didn’t know if it was love.”

  “But your eyes, your face, tell me somet
hing different,” Lydia said confidently. “I’ve seen it on my own in the mirror. If you do not know now, it’s only a matter of time until you do.”

  “You’re a romantic, my friend,” Alexana said.

  “And I think she’s right, little sister,” Sam said. “Are you sure he’s right for you?”

  Alexana hesitated. “I’m not sure of anything. All I know is that he has come to Christ and that I think he’s wonderful!”

  “Does he find you to be the same?” Lydia asked.

  “I think so,” Alexana said sheepishly. “If only love could be as buttoned down as archaeology!”

  Five days later Alexana unexpectedly received the go-ahead to proceed at the Haram. She had her team of twelve assembled and in the city within two more days. The group worked quietly, trying not to draw attention to themselves—or to their mission—as they explored the outside of the Double and Triple Gates, continued research at the École Biblique, and arranged for delivery of needed equipment.

  APRIL 18

  As the muezzin’s plaintive cry called the Muslim faithful to prayer, Alexana and Sam made their way onto the Haram and around the El Aksa Mosque. Al Azeh himself unlocked the steel door and let them into the tunnel that led down to Solomon’s Stables.

  Even from below, they could hear the high wail of the prayer call, and Alexana shivered in the darkness. The muffled sound—though she had heard it since childhood—lent an eerie feel to the blackness that surrounded them. Sam worked quickly, setting up several lanterns. Their bright light illuminated the huge archways that supported the weight of the Temple Mount above them. At one time, the entryways had consisted of nothing but archways covering a staircase that led the people into the temple. But over the centuries, deterioration and hysterical overprotection had led people to fill in many caverns with rock and cement, leaving few of them clear.

  Alexana and Sam planned to explore the tunnels for several hours, then emerge into the crowd when the next prayer time was called, hopefully escaping the notice of the many Muslims who gathered at the mosque each day. “I wish Professor O’Malley could be here,” Alexana said, forcing herself not to whisper.

  “He would’ve drawn too much attention,” Sam said. “There isn’t a Muslim on the Haram who doesn’t notice when the prof comes to explore.”

  “If he can get away with coming here, why can’t we?” Alexana complained, thinking of the graffiti written on her wall. Even with two coats of white paint over it, the red lettering still showed through.

  “The professor has always come to look, not to dig,” Sam reminded her. “But they don’t like him coming down here either, even though he’s done so for years.”

  “Sometimes the paranoia gets to me,” Alexana said, flashing her light around one massive Herodian block.

  Sam set up the last lamp and stood to face her. “You’re absolutely sure that no one on the team has connections to the Kahane.”

  “Oh, come on, Sam,” Alexana sighed in frustration. “You know these people as well as I do.”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “But even the most stalwart person can be swayed by the right sum of money—and it’d be worth a lot to the Kahane to destroy the Haram.”

  “I can’t let myself think that. I’d have to watch every team member every second. They’d feel the tension; it would affect our work.”

  Sam did not relent. “I think you and I need to keep an eye out for danger signals. Let’s not be naive, Sana; let’s be careful. The stakes are high enough as it is without a bomb planted in a rocky alcove—”

  She raised her hands in surrender. “All right, all right. We’ll keep an eye on everyone. But let’s be subtle about it, okay? Now, let’s get to the task at hand while we have the time. Where do we start?”

  High above them, past many layers of stone, a man looked from the doorway to his companion as they bowed and prayed. “You saw them,” he whispered in Arabic.

  “I did,” the man stated, not looking at him.

  “It was Alexana Roarke and her brother? You’re sure?”

  “I am sure, Shehab,” the man said, afraid to see the other’s eyes. The voice was frightening enough.

  “Khalil will have to act now,” Shehab said. “No more warnings. They must be stopped.”

  Deep in the Negev Desert that night, Shehab met with Khalil.

  “You saw them yourself?” Khalil asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He was glad for the cover of darkness that hid his upper lip—covered with sweat—and forced himself not to wipe it away.

  “I did. My companion saw them enter the tunnels, given access by al Azeh himself. We hid after prayer, then watched them emerge five hours later when prayer was called again, using the cover of our own holy time to do their dirty work,” Shehab spat out.

  Khalil ignored the man’s assumption. “And you wish me to act.”

  “I wish you to?” the man’s voice rose in intensity. “You should wish to do so! What keeps you from entering the woman’s apartment tonight and slitting her throat yourself? Why do you not take charge? It is unlike you to act this way. Have they bought you off? Or does the woman have your attention in other ways?”

  Khalil whirled, a growl on his lips as he swiftly nabbed Shehab’s throat between his powerful fingers. He pulled the smaller man’s face close to his own. “Never again will you question my authority, or my loyalty to Hamas,” he hissed. “I am well aware of what I must do. You will wait for instruction.”

  Shehab backed away, bowing. “Give me the chance, Khalil,” he said ingratiatingly. “I will take care of the Roarke woman once and for all. Let me prove myself to you and Hamas by this holy act. Let me protect our holy mosque.”

  Khalil turned away, frowning. “You will await my orders,” he repeated.

  Shehab bit his lip. “As you wish,” he said dully and disappeared into the black, starless night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  APRIL 19

  Ridge swallowed hard, facing his informant, willing himself to remain impassive. “You are so sure that you will be successful that you are claiming Hamas responsibility before your task is complete?”

  “I am. To know our target and receive an American ‘scoop’—is that the word?—will cost you five hundred American.”

  Ridge laughed, hoping he did not sound nervous. “Five hundred? This must be big news indeed.” Please, God! Please let us not be talking about Alexana. But instinctively, he knew.

  “It will be good information for you as well,” Shehab said. “In case you do not know, your own life is at risk.”

  Ridge’s sinking feeling grew. “How’s that?” he said, playing dumb.

  “Where is the money?”

  Ridge pulled out his wallet and counted out three hundred dollars. “Two more if the news is as worthwhile as you say.”

  Shehab nodded. “I would stay away from Dr. Roarke if I were you. I know you have been seen with her. It is not good for your health.”

  “Why?” Ridge leaned forward urgently. “She is not working on the Haram. The dig has been postponed.”

  “Apparently they have been given permission to proceed,” Shehab said, grinning. “I myself saw them enter the tunnels, like black spies, not two days ago. They will soon begin. But I will stop them.”

  “How?” Ridge asked, again willing himself to sound uncaring, like an uninvolved journalist, simply collecting information for a story.

  “I will kill her,” Shehab announced proudly.

  “And why don’t you think that I will try and stop you?” Ridge could not keep the pitch of his voice from rising.

  “Warning her would be unwise, Mr. McIntyre,” Shehab threatened. “If you get in the way, there will simply be two dead instead of one. What is the sense of that?”

  Ridge squelched the urge to grab the man by his throat. Instead, he squeezed out, “Perhaps I have feelings for this woman. I might feel the need to protect her from you.”

  Shehab frowned at Ridge’s reaction. He had obviously not expected su
ch strong personal sentiment from the journalist. His eyes narrowed. “This is a war, Mr. McIntyre. She is not innocent, but a pawn of the Kahane. If we do not act, they will take the Haram from us. If you are involved, you choose a side. And if you choose Dr. Roarke’s side, you will not live to see tomorrow.”

  You will not live to see tomorrow. They plan to act tonight. Ridge had to find her. He stood and threw two hundred dollars on the table. “Thanks for the scoop, Shehab,” he said mildly. “It will make a great story.” He turned and forced himself to walk away calmly.

  Ridge ran to the École Biblique, praying that he would find Alexana inside. He felt weary, suddenly aware of his lack of sleep and the weight of his worry for his love.

  He asked an elderly monk how to get to the library, then ran forward, ignoring the man’s protest that visitors must not intrude on the sanctity of the compound. Ridge burst into the library, unintentionally slamming the heavy, ancient door as he came through.

  “Sam! Thank God!” he said between gasps for air.

  Sam looked at him, confused, as did Professor O’Malley and six others from the team. In front of them lay stacks of books and piles of notes. Behind them, a photo of the Haram was projected on the wall and beside it an illustration of the Temple as it once had looked.

  “Where is your sister? I’ve tried reaching her on my cell phone all morning!”

  Sam frowned and checked his watch. “She might be outside the Double Gate at this point. She was going to—”

  Ridge’s heart sank. “She’s outside the city walls?”

  “Well, yes. If she’s where she’s supposed to be.”

  “Come on!” Ridge yelled over his shoulder. “I’ll explain on the way!”

  Alexana closed her notebook and rose from her perch on a three-by-nine-foot Herodian stone. From outside the Haram, she had sketched the Double and Triple Gates with the help of renowned architect Benjamin Shachaf, making plans on how to excavate beyond them.

 

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