The deputy foreign minister and his staff assistant, seated across the table, had been courteous enough. The Israeli minister had exchanged pleasantries with Mullburn, offering him coffee or tea. He asked about Mullburn’s prior trips to Jerusalem and his work for the Republic of Maretas.
But when the Israelis brought up the rumors about Mullburn’s efforts to build a global business alliance among multinational corporations, the conversation took a sharp turn.
“Rather than discuss my private interests in promoting global free trade,” the billionaire said, “I would much rather get to the point of my visit.”
He whispered something to his chief of staff, who then smiled, nodded, and quickly excused himself from the room.
“I’ve asked my assistant to give us some privacy,” Mullburn said, eyeing the Israeli staff assistant, “as we have matters of great sensitivity to discuss.”
The deputy minister hesitated for a moment before following suit. Mullburn had engaged in early gamesmanship. And the Israeli minister had been ordered by the prime minister, at least in the initial meeting, to play along. He motioned to his assistant, who quickly exited.
“I do thank you for meeting with me,” Mullburn continued, “particularly in view of the fact—at least in some diplomatic quarters—I’m viewed as a neophyte. An interloper in the Middle East peace process. But my only concern is peace. I think perhaps that bringing a fresh, original approach may be a benefit rather than a detriment…”
The Israeli minister smiled, still simply listening.
“To be direct with you,” Mullburn said, “I have been warned by some…about Israel’s current posture.”
“And what posture would that be?”
“Regarding the issue of the Temple Mount.”
“And specifically…what aspect of the Temple Mount?”
“A report that has come to my attention—I don’t give it any credence, of course—but we need to have the air cleared of any lingering questions…”
“About what?”
“Our intelligence agency has picked up a report—unconfirmed, of course—that Israel had certain information about the Knights of the Temple Mount. Information regarding that group prior to the bombings.”
“I can assure you,” the deputy minister replied, “that every day Israeli intelligence is the recipient of information regarding literally hundreds of organizations—terrorist groups, religious organizations, business concerns, and other entities that may or may not necessarily pose a security risk to our national interests…both within our borders and abroad.”
“Certainly,” Mullburn replied courteously. “The business of intelligence is to gather intelligence…to analyze the credibility of risk…to identify the most likely sources of aggression against national interests…but the information I received involved significantly more than that.”
“And what did that information tell you?”
“That Israel had not only identified the Knights as an apocalyptic, religiously motivated group of radicals—but had also uncovered the fact that the Knights were planning an imminent attack on the Mount.”
“I cannot, of course, speak for our intelligence agencies,” the Israeli official responded calmly, “but I will be sure to pass that information on to the responsible people within our government. I’m sure there is absolutely nothing to the report you heard.”
“I certainly hope not,” Mullburn said slowly and deliberately, “for Israel’s sake…”
“And how would you like me to interpret that statement?” The deputy minister had a slight edge of irritation in his voice.
“Simply this,” came the curt reply. “I must know the parties I may be negotiating with.”
“We have not yet decided that you will be the negotiator—or mediator—between Israel and the Palestinian Authority.”
“Oh, I think I will be. I do believe that Israel will see the wisdom of entering into a process utilizing my services as a mediator.”
“And why are you so confident of that?”
“Because, unlike the United States, or the United Nations, or the European Union, or others involved in previous failed and blundered attempts to settle the Israeli–Palestinian problem, I come from a very small island republic that has no inherent or historical loyalties—or any indelibly vested interests for that matter.”
“I’m listening.”
“And therefore,” Mullburn concluded, “I would have no interest in portraying Israel as a complicit co-conspirator in the massacre of Muslims on the Temple Mount.”
His opponent’s sheer audacity stunned the deputy minister. He blinked, then leaned slightly forward toward Mullburn, carefully calculating his words before he responded.
“Your characterization…even stated as a theoretical…or as pure speculation…is outrageous. It is unacceptable. And it is unilaterally rejected by Israel. Furthermore, it presents me with a rather unpleasant scenario.”
“And that would be?”
“I see someone who wants to be a negotiating partner in the peace process, but whose first step involves slandering the nation of Israel.”
“You need to face up to the political realities,” Mullburn snapped back. “You’ve got a new president in the White House. And she will not cater to Israel as past presidents have done. The United Nations is losing patience with your country. And I’m here to work out a practical solution, without escalating the stakes by exposing Israel’s possible complicity in the Temple Mount incident.”
“That sounds like blackmail to me.”
“No. To the contrary. It is diplomatic pragmatism. I’m here to bang out an agreement. I’m telling you I have no interest in exposing any wrongdoing by Israel. In return, Israel needs to show some initial trust in my mediating capabilities. You’re taking this very personally. This is not personal. This is strictly business.”
“The Temple Mount incident is not a bargaining chip. It is not a part of the process. Your implications about Israel’s complicity in it are very troubling, at a minimum. I reject them. And one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“If Israel has unilaterally refused over the years to negotiate with terrorists, what makes you think we would negotiate with a blackmailer?”
“Oh,” Mullburn said with a slightly ironic tone, “Israel doesn’t negotiate with terrorists?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well—think back a few years. Your prime minister negotiates the release of a huge number of Palestinian prisoners in return for an Israeli businessman and paltry concessions. On the very day of the exchange, a Palestinian suicide bomber detonates himself, killing several Israelis. And you have the audacity to say that Israel has not negotiated with terrorists? Who’s being naïve now?”
The Israeli knew this initial meeting with Warren Mullburn would have to be brought to a speedy conclusion. And as soon as the other man left the building, the deputy foreign minister would contact the defense minister, the ranking intelligence officers in the Mossad, and perhaps even the prime minister.
If Mullburn’s assertions about Israel’s prior knowledge of, and acquiescence in, the terrorist plans of the Knights of the Temple Mount were even remotely close to being true, an immediate decision was at hand.
In that event, Israel would have to decide whether it wished to take on just Warren Mullburn. Or whether it was willing to take on the rest of the world as well.
44
TINY HEFTLAND HAD disappointing news.
“The Israelis are simply not talking about this case,” he said gloomily over the phone. “I tried everything I could. Pulled every lever. Contacted everyone I knew—I was name-dropping like I was trying to crash a Hollywood cocktail party.”
“You got absolutely no information from the Israeli government about their investigation into the bombings?”
“They just told me I had to check with the Palestinian Authority—that they were the ones prosecuting the case.”
“I was re
ally banking on the Israeli government giving me access to some of their reports,” Will said with disappointment in his voice.
“Well, there was something I got…but not really connected to your case,” Tiny said.
“What was it?”
“About this Mossad agent by the name of Nathan…whatever it was. You gave me his name. I checked him out. As it turns out, he had some connection with the archaeological hoo-ha about the Deuteronomy Fragment. And this Nathan—”
“Nathan Goldwaithe,” Will broke in.
“Yeah, that was him,” Tiny replied. “He’s the guy you knew, right?”
“I ran into him when I was in Jerusalem doing work on the Reichstad v. MacCameron lawsuit. He never identified himself as a member of the Mossad. But I figured he was. He seemed to have all kinds of high-level clearances. He was my personal escort over there…assigned by the Israeli government.”
“Well, this guy was apparently doing some unofficial snooping in the United States,” Tiny continued. “At a research center up in Maryland—the same place I located for you in the Reichstad lawsuit. Remember? Reichstad ran it, had a couple of assistants, all super-secret. Very sophisticated security protection around it. You later told me that Mr. Money-bucks…what’s his name…Mullburn, had funded the operation. Of course, all that had to do with the Resurrection Fragment that was the issue in Reichstad v. MacCameron.”
“So, why was Nathan doing surveillance there?”
“Well, this is all a number of years ago now. But it looks like he and another Mossad agent were checking out that research facility. Apparently they got some convincing surveillance—video or audio, I’m not sure which. Anyway…it apparently exposed some real questions about the origin of the Deuteronomy Fragment. So Nathan and the other agent take separate flights back to Israel. Nathan gets there first. From what I heard, he was anxious to talk to some of the folks in the government. But he took a side trip out to the Negev—why, nobody knows. Later, they found his body there. A single shot to the back of the head. His wallet, personal belongings—that kind of stuff—was all gone. Including the tapes about the Deuteronomy Fragment.”
Will was silent—stunned. He reached over to a small glass box on his desk, flipped it open, and retrieved the single Byzantine-era coin it contained. It bore an ancient, worn, but still decipherable image of Jesus.
He rubbed his thumb over the contours of the visage.
“You still there?” Tiny asked.
“Yeah,” Will said, his voice husky.
“I’m sorry if he was a good friend of yours.”
“I didn’t know him that well. But he protected me in some tough times over there. And he gave me a memento of my trip to Jerusalem—an ancient coin. It ended up meaning a lot to me…I’m very sad to hear he’s gone.”
“Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings…”
“Did you find out the name of the other agent who was with Nathan?”
“No. I struck out on that. And they really have no idea what specifics he had about the Deuteronomy Fragment. They only know what I’ve just told you.”
“So, do you have any other leads about the Deuteronomy thing? Any other ideas?” Will asked.
“Listen, Will boy. I’m sorry. But I think I’m all tapped out…I’ve got nothing else.”
“Then come on home, Tiny,” Will said with a tinge of resignation.
After hanging up, Will called Len Redgrove and left a message asking if he had come up with the name of the expert who might be able to assist him in the case.
Within the hour Len called back and left a message with Hilda suggesting that Will contact Dr. Daoud al-Qasr, currently on a teaching assignment in the anthropology department at NYU. Len mentioned that Dr. al-Qasr normally taught Egyptology and a subject called “Esoteric Religious Movements” at Cairo University and left a telephone number and e-mail address for him.
Will had been on the phone with Attorney Mira Ashwan.
But something had changed. In their first conversation together, the court-appointed counsel had been curt, cold, and abrasive.
But now, her voice was lively, excited, even warm.
“I’ve been meaning to call you, Mr. Chambers,” she said exuberantly. “I was very busy when we talked the first time, and I didn’t know much about you. But I have gained some information about your legal work. I very much look forward to our working together.”
“That’s good news,” Will said. “Why don’t I draw up a joint defense agreement and e-mail it to you—”
“Oh. Do you really believe that’s necessary?” Ms. Ashwan asked with a little hurt in her voice. “Though I understand that you do not know me, and may be somewhat suspicious of an attorney appointed by the Palestinian Authority.”
“I didn’t say that…” Will replied.
“You didn’t have to, Mr. Chambers. It would be a natural assumption. But you should know, first of all, that I’m Egyptian by background. It gives me an insight into Gilead Amahn’s upbringing. Also, my parents are Coptic Christians. So I’m not coming from a Muslim standpoint—although I could be described as a Palestinian, politically, and I live here in Hebron. But because of the religious background of my family, I’m very sensitive to the rights of Christians.”
“I certainly appreciate that,” Will said. “But I would just as soon that we execute a formal joint-defense agreement. That way we are both bound to confidentiality with regard to Gilead Amahn. And we know what the ground rules are. I hope you don’t mind…”
“No. Not at all. Whatever makes you comfortable,” Ms. Ashwan said enthusiastically. “I think that our common defense could be very productive for Mr. Amahn. And after reviewing some information about your legal background, as I mentioned, I am thrilled and honored to be working with you on this case.”
“By the way,” Will was thinking back to Tiny Heftland’s dismal inability to get access to the Israeli government reports, “I would very much like to get the reports from the Jerusalem police and the IDF…the Israeli reports relating to the bombing…”
“Yes. That would be wonderful. That’s an excellent idea,” the Egyptian attorney said brightly. “And I think I know how I might be able to obtain those. Let me work on that, please. I would very much like to get those for you.”
“Ms. Ashwan—”
“Please call me Mira.”
“Okay. Mira…I think you and I need to connect by telephone at least once or twice a week on a regular basis. You can be particularly helpful to me in giving me firsthand information from the Palestinian Authority. I’d like to know, for instance, when the panel of judges is going to be named.”
“I expect to hear that information any day,” Mira replied. “And when I do, I’ll contact you with it. And when I get your joint-defense agreement, I’ll sign it and send it back to you. I look forward—very much, Will—to working on this case together. I believe we can be very, very successful.”
After he hung up, Will was cautiously optimistic that a good working relationship between them might well provide the extra help he so desperately needed. In addition, Mira was there in the Palestinian Authority, close to the tribunal.
On the other hand, he admittedly had some reluctance about the independence and objectivity of the Palestinian Authority–appointed amicus curiae. But he was willing, at least at this early stage, to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Considering how quickly the odds were stacking against him, he had no other choice.
45
OVER THE WEEKS SINCE Will Chambers had accepted the defense of Gilead Amahn, his trial preparation had begun to fall into a familiar routine. Although the case was extraordinary, Will was beginning to feel comfortable as he relied upon his thirty years of experience to get slow but certain control over its contours.
As Will was motoring to his office in his Corvette, he was figuring, and then refiguring, his progress thus far.
Mike Michalany had done a nice job piecing together the nature of the explos
ives and the manner in which they had been remotely detonated. However, he was at a loss to explain how such a sophisticated system could have been put together by the Knights of the Temple Mount, who were novices when it came to terror attacks.
Will had combed through all of the investigative reports from the Palestinian Authority and had them carefully indexed and summarized. Included were statements from eyewitnesses, who had heard Gilead Amahn make a public and inciting declaration about the destruction of the Temple Mount just seconds before the blast was detonated. There were also reports detailing how the Israeli police and the IDF had gunned down Louis Lorraine and Yossin Ali Khalid as they attempted to flee after the explosion. The only problem was, as Will clearly understood, the reports represented only the tip of the iceberg.
Tiny Heftland had exhausted his ability to gain any information and had returned to the United States. But happily, Mira Ashwan had proved to be quite helpful. Although she was still working on her promise to gain access to the reports of the Jerusalem police department and the IDF, she had been able to forward some new discovery information to Will about a Palestinian police raid on the apartments of Lorraine and Khalid.
Yet one of the sticking points of the case was Will’s lack of access to his own client. He had had only four short telephone conversations with Gilead Amahn, each limited to fifteen minutes, and each time Gilead had indicated that guards were physically in his presence. Will had also assumed the phone calls were being monitored by the Palestinian Authority. Thus, whatever he had gleaned was limited to innocuous background information.
It was becoming increasingly clear to Will that he needed to travel to the Middle East and begin a series of intensive face-to-face interviews with Gilead in preparation for trial.
And he could no longer put that off. At least, though it may only have been his wishful thinking, Fiona had seemed to have softened of late regarding his participation in the case. She seemed to be bouncing back slowly but perceptibly from the death of her father. And, of course, Will was grateful for that.
The Last Judgment Page 21