Chosen

by Lisa T. Bergren

  Alexana looked up. “The Sanhedrin didn’t know what to say to them. They were two ‘uneducated, common, but bold men’ who had the living testimony of a healed man standing beside them. They tried to intimidate them into remaining silent, but they failed. Unable to do anything else, the Sanhedrin let the men go, probably hoping that their testimony would be swept under the carpet.”

  Her face lit up. “We believe that the lame man came here and left a monument to his healing. He was not so bold as to make this inscription on the Temple Mount above us, right under the noses of the Sanhedrin. But, somewhere, he had to make his mark, leave his testimony for all to see. Here, beyond the Double Gate, was the perfect place to do that.”

  She paused and grinned. “He probably had no idea that the entire world would be looking at it two thousand years later.”

  “Exactly how significant is this discovery?”

  Alexana’s eyes opened wide. “It’s very big. Bigger than the stone that mentions Pilate, found in the amphitheater at Caesarea Maritima, or the inscription at Tel Dan that mentions King David. This is almost a complete inscription that directly mentions Jesus Christ of Nazareth. It is an unprecedented find.”

  “Tell us, Dr. Roarke,” Ridge prompted, “how do you know that this inscription is authentic?”

  “Because of the paleography—the shape of the letters—and the fact that the stratum it was found under was undisturbed,” she said confidently.

  “But how do you know it wasn’t placed here, say, last week—or even yesterday—by some well-meaning Christian member of your crew?”

  Alexana furrowed her brow at the suggestion, but she quickly realized that this would be the first question on everyone’s minds. Ridge was simply giving her the opportunity to cut them off at the pass.

  “Well, Ridge, you and your cameraman have been given unlimited access to the dig from the start. You have been an eyewitness to our excavation process, and I believe if you examine your footage from yesterday, you will see this exact column as it stood before the inscription was uncovered. As you know, we’ve had crews working around the clock. With a crew of over sixty coming and going, it would be impossible to carve these words in such a central location without being seen. The carving itself would take hours. And as you and your cameraman can testify, we just uncovered it this morning.”

  Ridge smiled at her and motioned for Steve to shut off the camera. Safely removed from the world’s view, he picked Alexana up, swung her around, and gave her a long, tender hug. “Congratulations, my love. This is bigger than I’m sure even you imagined.”

  “Huge. Gigantic. Incredible,” she said, shaking her head and smiling back up into his eyes. “You’ll air it tonight?”

  “Tonight. Steve and I will tape more interviews with the crew, then head back to the editing room. They’ll air it as a feature. Over and over.” He beamed.

  “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything!”

  “Try to get the gospel message past editing?” Alexana begged.

  “I’ll do my best, Sana,” Ridge promised. “I’ll get some flak, but I’ll argue that the Bible passages are germane to the discovery. I think I can get most of it through.”

  Alexana took his hands and squeezed them. “Don’t you see? God is going before us. Trust in him, Ridge. He can accomplish miracles, right before your eyes.” She gestured toward the inscription. “How can we not trust him?”

  Ridge nodded, and together they stood—side by side—contemplating the God who moved in their world each and every day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  MAY 31

  Ridge whirled Alexana out onto the dance floor at the Seven Arches hotel. “We’re getting to be regulars here,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I thought the crew deserved the very best,” she said. But her mind was not on the crew. All she could think about was the man who held her, his hand feeling warm and wonderful at the small of her back. Just having his face so close to her own gave her an emotional high.

  She never wanted to lose this moment. The intensity was so great, it was as though her nervous system was transmitting at a thousand times its normal rate. Ridge leaned back to cradle her cheek and tenderly gaze at her, his touch sending goose bumps across her arms and down her back.

  Onstage, a woman in a long, sequined gown of royal blue sang Edith Piaf numbers, giving the room a feel more like that of 1940s Paris than of 1990s Jerusalem.

  “Thank you, Alexana,” Ridge whispered, his voice just barely audible over the music.

  “For what?” she asked, biting her lip at the slight tremble in her voice.

  “For loving me. First, for loving me so much that you introduced me to God, and then for allowing me to love you.”

  She smiled and looked away, embarrassed. “Ridge, you know—” Her voice froze as her eyes locked on a resplendent Khalil, standing in a shadowed corner wearing a formal tux and tails. Noting that she had spotted him, he moved onto the dance floor with the grace of a much bigger, more formidable Fred Astaire.

  Khalil came up behind Ridge as he studied Alexana, trying to figure out what was wrong. Ridge turned, saw Khalil behind him, and scowled.

  “May I cut in?” Khalil asked Ridge, staring at Alexana.

  She looked from one man to the other, momentarily speechless.

  “Just for a moment,” Khalil said deferentially to Ridge, then stepped forward before he could protest and whirled her away into the crowd.

  “Khalil,” Alexana said, not daring to look up into his dark eyes, “you should not be here. They’ll arrest you.”

  “Nonsense.” The man showed no sign of fear. “I move in and out of the city easily. I came to see your boyfriend last week just outside the Haram. He told you?”

  “He did. It was a good suggestion you made. Most of the protesters dispersed as soon as the story aired. But still—”

  “I could not keep you locked away, dear Alexana. Do not try to do the same to me,” he said gently, but firmly. “Besides, the Jewish jackals are storming my hideout in the desert at this very moment. I decided it was an excellent time to move to a new location and to see how you are faring.”

  “Well, as you can see, I am fine,” she began. “We are doing well at the dig.”

  “Yes, I saw the Christian propaganda aired on CNN tonight. I am certain it will be featured in everything I read tomorrow: the Washington Post, the London Times, as well as on the BBC …”

  “My, you do manage to keep up, don’t you?” she ribbed, relaxing as they continued to talk and dance.

  “Yes,” he said, ignoring the jibe, “I do my best to be informed. But I am not here merely to congratulate you, my friend.”

  Alexana wondered at his use of the word friend but forced herself to keep her mind on what he had to tell her. “I’m listening.”

  Khalil lowered his voice and moved his head closer to her ear. Over his shoulder, she could just make out Ridge at the edge of the crowd, frowning more deeply as they moved closer together. She gave him a small smile that she hoped would encourage him.

  “You have found something significant,” Khalil began. “Will you now leave all else alone and depart the Haram?”

  Alexana stopped, defensive and indignant at the suggestion, but Khalil swiftly moved her onward, covering her misstep with his own graceful motion.

  “Do not stop. You will call attention to us. And I must finish this conversation with you.”

  “Very well. Get on with it. I have a dance partner.” She winced at her own harsh tone, but she could not help herself.

  “Understood,” Khalil said crisply. “There are still many in Hamas who want to see this opportunity for the Kahane to end. They speak radically …”

  “There’s something new and unusual.” Alexana spoke sarcastically, her frustration mounting.

  “There is still talk of assassinating you or your crew,” Khalil continued calmly. “The new foundations bought you some time. But, Alexana,” he said, looking her fu
ll in the face, “I am losing my hold on the most radical in the group. They may move again without my approval. If you do not get out now, having proven that you are trustworthy, you might have difficulty going on with your life in the Old City.”

  “Don’t you see, Khalil?” she protested. “There might be other important discoveries down there. We have another week of excavation to do before we completely uncover the steps and the immediate surroundings. When it’s clear, we will stop.”

  “You do not intend to open the gate as it once was, do you?” he asked, fear finally reaching his voice.

  “No, of course not. I am aware of the ramifications of such action. The Muslim moderates would not tolerate it, let alone Hamas. But if we go that far—clear the whole site from just inside the gate to the stairs—we can visualize and model exactly how it would have been in Jesus’ time. It is fundamentally important from both archaeological and Christian perspectives. I must do it, Khalil. I must.”

  A muscle twitched along Khalil’s jaw line. “You have little time. I cannot emphasize that enough. Get out as soon as possible. If you are too stubborn to do otherwise, then I wash my hands of all responsibility.”

  The song ended, and Khalil and Sana stood among the crowd of people, some moving toward their dinner tables, others back onto the floor. “I will not see you for a while, my friend.” Khalil looked over her shoulder at the two soldiers, Alexana’s bodyguards, who stared as if trying to place him.

  “Mossad?” Khalil asked.

  “Yes,” she said without turning. “My own personal secret service agents. Pretty impressive, huh?”

  Khalil ignored her joke. “I feel better with them here for your sake. But I’m afraid they would not reciprocate my appreciation. In fact, I think they’re about to throw me out, or as you Americans say, cart me away. Alexana, I must go into hiding for a bit and get to know my new bride.”

  Alexana gasped, momentarily wondering if he intended to spirit her off again and force her to marry him.

  He laughed softly and bent to kiss her quickly on the cheek. “Do not worry. It is not you.” His eyes darted to her guards, who had begun speaking into their tiny walkie-talkies and were making their way toward them. “I will give Sarah your best,” he whispered in her ear. “Take care.”

  Khalil left her standing on the dance floor and stopped to speak with Ridge. The soldiers made their way to Alexana. “Pardon us, Dr. Roarke,” the one Ridge had dubbed “Louie” said in British-accented English. “May we ask with whom you were just dancing?”

  “You may. It was Khalil al Aitam.”

  Both men shot looks at one another, then toward Ridge. But Khalil had disappeared.

  Sam and Lydia shared their cab with Alexana and Ridge to the Damascus Gate, and the Mossad agents followed behind. The guards had wanted Alexana to ride with them, but she threatened a scene until they acquiesced. On the way, the four discussed Khalil’s appearance at the Seven Arches, speaking without using his name due to the presence of the cabdriver. Sam had seen Khalil only briefly as he exited the restaurant by hopping over the low, outdoor balcony. “He stopped at the French doors and looked at me.” Sam sounded haunted by the image. “His face was strange. It was like he was saying good-bye.”

  Lydia took his hand in hers. “Maybe someday, someplace, we can all be together again.”

  Ridge bit his tongue but remained silent.

  Alexana squeezed his leg to reassure him and smiled ruefully. “I think that someday is a long way off.”

  As they reached their destination, Sam leaned forward to pay the driver. Afterward, the foursome walked through Damascus Gate and into the dark shadows of the Old City, ignoring the agents who followed them.

  “I think you should consider what he said, Alexana,” Sam said in a low voice, careful not to use Khalil’s name.

  “Sam, I—”

  “Today was huge. Really big. You know I’m jazzed that I can work on an excavation that means so much to the faith. But he was right, Sana. You should consider quitting while you’re ahead. Not only for your sake. You’ve got a lot to live for these days,” he said with a gesture toward Ridge. “But also for the sake of the entire team.”

  Sam’s words hit home. “I’ll consider it,” Alexana said grimly, irritated that her brother felt he must remind her of her responsibility.

  Sam nodded and looked again at Ridge, who squeezed Alexana’s shoulders in encouragement. They stopped to say good-bye at an alleyway that provided a shortcut to Lydia’s house.

  “You know I’ll be with you to the bitter end, little sister,” Sam said.

  “I know it. I know you’re just speaking for the good of the group. I’ll think about it, okay?” She reached out to hug Lydia, then her brother. “It’s been some day, huh?”

  “One I’ll never forget, Sana. See you in the morning,” Samuel said, then groaned as he checked his watch, “which is coming way too soon.”

  He reached out to take Lydia by the hand, then the couple briskly walked away.

  Alexana was suddenly aware of her own exhaustion. “Well, you managed to keep me up till all hours again, Mr. McIntyre.”

  “Can’t help it if I’m the best boyfriend in town.”

  “Boyfriend, hmm?” she said, smiling and encircling his waist with her arms. “Sounds a bit corny for a woman of my age to have a boyfriend. There’s something too teenage about it for me.”

  “How about ‘manfriend’?” he asked, smiling down at her.

  “No. That definitely doesn’t work.” She looked up at him as a nearly full moon came out from behind a cloud bank, illuminating the city and the man before her. Sana’s look grew tender, her eyes sparkling in the soft, yellow moonlight. “How about fiancé?”

  Ridge pretended to gasp, his eyes widening. “Why, Dr. Roarke, are you proposing?”

  “I most certainly am not! I’m simply accepting your proposal.”

  “Ahh,” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he held her. He ignored the waiting guards as he gave her a long, intimate kiss. “Those are beautiful words to this reporter’s ears. Shall we make it national?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Let’s keep it private for now. Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone scoop you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  JUNE 14

  Despite exhortations from Ridge, Khalil, and Sam to quit while she was ahead, Alexana pushed forward with the dig, feeling enthralled by every inch of cavern the team unearthed. Nothing equaled the discovery of the column inscription, but over the following two weeks, the grand entryway became easier to visualize with each stone that was removed from the site.

  They had cleared the rubble entirely away from both the Double Gate and Triple Gate stairways—seventy meters apart—as well as from the caverns that connected them. Their work was nearly complete. Alexana stood with Sam just inside the Double Gate, under two pairs of domes that were made of stone and ornately carved with unique floral designs and geometric motifs.

  She pointed, her face alight in wonder, and explained the significance of the discovery to Ridge as Steve filmed. “The unique decoration you see above us is a fine example of how Herodian craftsmen adapted Roman decorative styles while conforming to Jewish law, which forbade the representation of human or animal figures.

  “Outside, the gate was probably pretty plain—there is no evidence of ornate lintels or a frieze—but that made it all the more spectacular for pilgrims as they entered. This,” she gestured upward again, “was a sign of the grandeur that awaited them in the Temple above.”

  Outside the Haram, an entirely new problem gained momentum. As word of the column inscription sped around the world, thousands of Christian pilgrims flooded the city, eager to be among the first to witness such a holy sight. Their presence put both Jew and Muslim on the defensive. Suddenly a new segment of Jerusalem society clamored to lay claim to the Temple Mount.

  Within hours, PLO demonstrators had returned, waving Palestinian flags that prior to the peace agreement had bee
n banned. Christians thronged together, singing and shouting demands for entry to Solomon’s Stables. Many were ill and believed that one look at the inscription might bring them healing. Jews, worried that Christians might thwart their own agenda for the Temple Mount, also demonstrated, demanding that the Mount be given back to them.

  Israeli and Palestinian soldiers managed to beat the crowds back and finally even caused them to disperse. But when Alexana climbed the long ramp at the end of the day, her team was tensely waiting for her in a half circle. Quietly, Steve filmed the event like a documentary. But Sana did not see him or even Ridge. She was concentrating on her brother. And his face said it all.

  “We’re quitting?” she asked quietly, fighting to keep accusation from her voice.

  “Yes, Sana.” Sam spoke with regret, but also with conviction. “It’s time. It might even be too late. We need to get out, let things settle down, and allow Eban and al Azeh to figure out how they’ll manage this new aspect of the Haram. Our discovery has made things much more complicated.”

  “Complicated, but wonderful.”

  “Yes! Yes! You know we’re all delighted with the find. But we have weeks of journaling, mapping, cataloguing to do. Let’s end the digging. Gain some time to get the protests and anger under control. We’ll finish the paperwork and get out.”

  “But if we—”

  Ridge interrupted her with a single gesture. He motioned toward a tiny monitor on some recording equipment beside him. “I think you’ve been down below so much you’ve missed the heat of the crowds.” He pressed the Play button and studied her face as she watched.