The Syrian (Natasha Kelly, Mossad Spy)

by Felicia Mires

  After arranging everything to the satisfaction of all, Natasha realized she was nearing the end of her freedom. She stepped outside the cave to sit on a boulder. The air blew much colder than the previous night, so she pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them.

  "Lord, I thank you for this incredible find. Please use it for your glory and hide it from treacherous men. Cloud the truth from Yaakov and…help me return to Syria. Thank you for this freedom, for safety, and for your direction. Lead us in the paths of righteousness for Your name's sake. Amen."

  She rested on the boulder, unwilling for the night to end, until Dirk came to join her. He dropped a jacket around her shoulders then wrapped his arms around her. "Ready?"

  "Not really, but I can't leave John alone to die."

  "When this is over, there are some things…"

  Hassan walked up. "I think it's time we called Yaakov."

  "Wait," Natasha grabbed his sleeve. "What about Dirk? Shouldn't we let him leave first? It doesn't take that helicopter long to arrive here."

  "I'm not leaving until you're safely onboard. I don't trust Yaakov. He'd just as soon throw you off the mountain. Speaking of which…we have a dead body."

  "Yes, I'll ask Yaakov what he wants me to do with it." Hassan looked back at the cave then at Dirk. "Before we call, I agree we should move the ashes to a safe location. You can watch from there. I won't let anyone throw Natasha off the mountain."

  They moved everything valuable but decided that Yaakov would be more inclined to believe them if they gave him something else besides the ashes. In addition to the fake ashes, they kept an empty jar and a jar of meal. The rest of the find was placed with Dirk.

  Natasha lingered at the mouth of the cave. Without the moon, his face was a dark silhouette. "Thank you for coming."

  "My pleasure. As soon as you leave, I'll return to Benjamin's location. I'll never be far away."

  He reached for her hand and prayed. Natasha bit back tears. He really had changed.

  She climbed down to the pick-up area, her heart heavy. Inside, she heard Hassan on the radio. After a few seconds of static, Yaakov instructed them to strip Jake of any identification and leave him on the mountain where he fell. It would take the authorities a long time to identify the body, and there would be no connection to Yaakov.

  "I am most pleased with your discovery. I'll tell John. The helicopter will leave directly."

  Hassan stowed the radio with the other gear. There was nothing left to do but check the body. He stood and proceeded to the back of the cave. Natasha followed.

  He stopped, holding out his arm to block her. "I'll do this."

  She shook her head. She'd caused the entire situation, and she refused to leave the grisly task to him.

  "It will be faster if I help you."

  She helped him carry the body out and remove it from the canvas bag, careful to avoid the sight of Jake's still face. This man had been alive two days ago. If he'd never met Yaakov, never chosen the life of a terrorist, he still would be. Who had he left behind?

  They returned the body to the exact spot where he fell so the accident wouldn't be questioned. By the time they climbed back to their cave and placed everything on the ledge for pick-up, they heard the whir of the helicopter.

  The wind picked up, blowing sand at their faces as they searched for the chopper. A line, carrying a small swing, slowly came into view. It swayed in the breeze, but after three tries, Hassan snared it.

  "Get on. I'll buckle you in."

  "You can't lift all that by yourself."

  "Yes, I can, and I don't want you getting knocked over the edge by the swing."

  Natasha strapped herself in, and Hassan stepped back. In seconds, her feet left the ground, and she swung in open air. Inside the helicopter sat the pilot and another guard.

  She yelled over the noise of the chopper blades. "Hassan needs a basket for the relics."

  The guard nodded. They lowered a long, rectangular cage into which Hassan placed all the artifacts. He stepped back again and signaled them to raise the line. Natasha helped the guard crank the heavy line and pull the basket through the cargo door. Various padded boxes waited in the rear, and they placed each parcel in a protected space.

  One last time, the rope swing lowered. Hassan threw the remaining packs over his back and clipped on the swing. The guard immediately turned the crank. Before the helicopter door closed, Natasha searched the cliff for some sign of Dirk, but, of course, there was nothing. She leaned into her seat, feeling utterly bereft.

  The helicopter landed at the compound long before Natasha was ready to become a captive again. Hassan seemed to read her thoughts as they climbed out and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. They ran inside, and a guard directed them to the salon where Yaakov took his meals.

  When they entered, Yaakov jumped up and hurried across the room. "Well? What do you think? Will it please the Jews? Tell me everything."

  Natasha lingered near the doorway, in no mood to converse with Yaakov. Hassan dropped his bags on the floor, then assumed a subservient stance, a difficult task when he topped Yaakov by four inches.

  Natasha hid a smile.

  "It looks like the sacrificial relic. We found ashes inside the jar. We never would have found them if not for Miss Kelly."

  Yaakov's black eyes burned with excitement. "Really. What did you do, Miss Kelly?"

  "I walked across the mountain. It gave way. I saw the urns through a crevasse. I told my keeper." She flicked a thumb at Hassan.

  Yaakov laughed. "Your keeper may have the remainder of the night off and the next day as well for a job well done."

  Hassan bowed in Arabic fashion. "Inshallah."

  "Inshallah."

  Natasha listened to Hassan's boots as they retreated from the room, taking the only bit of comfort with him.

  Yaakov stared at her. "You have nothing more to say? Quite unlike you."

  Natasha shrugged.

  "You are no doubt over-tired. We will speak of this after you sleep. I wish to see these two-thousand-year-old ashes."

  He walked to the door with Natasha at his heels. Yaakov rattled something Arabic to the guard, who marched her to her room. She found John kneeling beside his cot. His face broke into a wreath of smiles when he saw her. He pushed himself off the floor and opened his arms. She walked into them without a word, knowing she couldn't tell him all that had happened. The rooms were tapped.

  "You are well, daughter?"

  She nodded against his shoulder. "Are you?"

  "Quite."

  A guard entered the room, and she drew back. He jerked his head at John. "Your presence is requested."

  John looked at her, a question in his eyes.

  "Go ahead, John. I'll be fine."

  She took a languorous shower while Yaakov and John inspected the relics and their contents, using all the hot water she wanted. If Yaakov complained, he could drag her out himself. Not that she thought he would. Twenty minutes later, shriveled and pink, she dried and dressed. She wanted nothing more than her cot and sleep.

  When she reached her room, John was still missing. She turned out the lights and lay down, but sleep wouldn't come. Where was Dirk now? Had he left the mountain with the artifacts yet? Was he outside waiting for her? He'd really given her no indication of his feelings. Was he still interested in pursuing a relationship? Was she?

  The events of the last few weeks paraded through her mind. Did she want to continue killing or being killed…by whomever? This job required a lot of prayer. No wonder spies burned out early. Eventually, she drifted off to a restless sleep.

  The next morning, Natasha awoke a new woman, full of resolve to beat up the bad guys, no matter what it took. She was just learning what that involved. Sometimes you had to kill the bad guys. Her struggle always came back to God's Word. God had used spies to help the Children of Israel. And once again, the Jews struggled with claiming their inheritance. Spies were a means to an end.

  Thanks to Ha
ssan, Natasha knew the entire layout of the building. Other than the courtyard, no exit existed to the outside. Jake had lied, playing with her mind. She felt less and less sorry for him. Like Yaakov, some people were just evil to the core. Their choices brought about their own destruction.

  Her glance shot across the room. John's cot looked neat and tidy. He'd risen early. No doubt thrilled about the ashes.

  Natasha joined him in the library. He stood and came to take her hands in his. "Natasha, my dear, how are you feeling this morning?"

  "Much better." She smiled warmly at him. "Were you a good boy while I was gone? We don't want nasty Mr. Yaakov to get angry with us."

  "I see you're optimistic today. Are you excited by your discovery? The jug of two thousand-year-old meal is invaluable. Was it difficult to spend two days with Yaakov's guard after Jake died?"

  "No. The whole experience was nothing like I expected. For one thing, the caves had bats and creepy-crawly things that found you while you slept. Would you like to go outside for a while? These walls are oppressive after two days of freedom."

  "Of course."

  They walked out, followed by a guard. Natasha decided to risk the wrath of the guard by sitting down on a bench. John dropped beside her.

  "John, you've been here a long time. Are you beginning to feel claustrophobic?"

  "You forget I'm used to being shut away with many rules and a total lack of solitude. This is more private than the monastery."

  "I can see that." She picked up a stray pebble and threw it across the compound. "Did you find any more useful information in the manuscript? Do you really think the Teacher of Righteousness would have known where the Garden of Eden is? No one else did."

  "I'm beginning to wonder. The Teacher thought he devoted himself to the pure observation of the Law and priesthood, but he had some rather bizarre notions that his Essene community accepted as canonical."

  "What do you think Yaakov will say if you don't find something soon?"

  Natasha tapped a Morse code beat on the bench, hoping John would catch on.

  "He is unpredictable. Your success with the ashes may buy us some time. It's obvious we're doing everything we can." He sighed. "He could do no better himself."

  Natasha continued to beat out a message. Saw Dirk. We're leaving soon. Saw Dirk. We're leaving soon.

  She smiled. "I think I'm ready to go back to work."

  Saw Dirk. We're leaving soon.

  "That's good news. Let's go."

  They skipped breakfast that morning, so it wasn't long before they were ready to take a break from the library.

  Natasha stared into space. "Do you think we'll have something good for lunch? Those snacks in the cave weren't exactly gourmet."

  "We could always ask."

  "I think I will." Natasha walked to the guard and asked to see Yaakov.

  "He is unavailable today. What do you want?"

  "I've spent two days in a cave, and I'd like something more than falafel for lunch."

  "Your request will be noted." He remained stony-faced.

  "I'm hungry now."

  The guard held his walkie-talkie to his mouth. "The American wishes to have a substantial lunch. She is hungry now."

  After a few seconds of static air, a voice responded. "Tell her to wait. Lunch will be ready in half an hour."

  Natasha rolled her eyes at the guard. "I heard."

  She went back in the library and sat with John.

  "Why don't you study the maps again, Natasha. Take your list of clues and really study the maps."

  She picked up a list of references to the Garden of Eden and studied them.

  Eastward in Eden Genesis 2:8

  In Israel. According to the Scroll.

  Fossil snake with legs in Jerusalem. A recent news article.

  On the Holy Mountain. Ezekiel 28:13, 14

  Where God put His name. The Scroll again.

  The River of Life and the Tree of Life, which are in the Garden, proceed from the throne of God. Revelation 22:1, 2, 14

  The throne of God will be in New Jerusalem. Revelation 21

  The entrance of the Garden is on the eastern side. Genesis 3:24

  The river will flow from the Mount of Olives when Jesus comes back. Zechariah 14:4

  Ezekiel 47:1, 7-12

  a. The living water will flow from the eastern side of the Sanctuary in Jerusalem.

  b. On either side of the River of Life shall be trees which bring forth fruit all twelve months of the year, for the twelve tribes of Israel, and the leaves shall be for the healing of the nations. Revelation 22:1, 2

  After studying the list, Natasha recognized a common theme. But had she contrived it? She wasn't sure. If only she had one piece of evidence that tied them all together. The list seemed to point to Jerusalem as the location of the Garden of Eden. New Jerusalem was Jerusalem. The holy mountain was the Mount of Olives on the east side of Jerusalem. The river of Life and the Tree of Life were at the throne of God at the Temple site. And the river giving life flowed from the Mount of Olives…Jerusalem again.

  What if the Eastern Gate of Jerusalem was a modern physical representation of the entrance of Eden? Why else would God be so enraptured with Jerusalem? Why would he insist on placing his covenant people and His Temple in an exact location?

  Could Jerusalem be the place where God placed His name? Every symbol in God's Word was tied to another. He loved symbols.

  "Natasha, it's time for the meal."

  She glanced up. Now that she was getting somewhere, she was loath to leave the library.

  "You said you hungered for something substantial after your time in the caves. Come. You'll think better after you've eaten."

  "All right. I am hungry. I just hope it's more than a bowl of fruit."

  Natasha dropped her pen on the table and followed John and the guard. To her surprise, Yaakov waited inside.

  "I must apologize," he began. "I forgot your rations in the cave may not have left you fulfilled. I hope this will allay your craving for substantial food."

  The table more resembled a banquet than a luncheon, with a variety of Arabian delicacies, including Turkish Delight. Yaakov spoke his traditional Arab blessing. Under her breath, Natasha said her own. Then Yaakov maintained his a spate of conversation during the meal, occasionally drawing John into theological debates. He seemed to find it amusing when John had a scriptural answer for every argument.

  He didn't press Natasha to join in. Good thing, because John was in a class by himself when it came to knowing God's Word. She'd only have slowed him down.

  Her face must have registered a moment of derision, because Yaakov pounced.

  "Your superior expression betrays you, Miss Kelly. Are you so different from me? I have noticed each time you speak of "the Arabs," you wrinkle your nose and narrow your eyes as if we are a contagious disease. Where is your Christian charity? Your innocent until proven guilty?" Yaakov sat up on his pillows, waiting for her response.

  What could she say? He was exactly right. Because of the attack on the Twin Towers, and now, joining Israel's fight, she'd made it a practice to suspect all Arab people. But God loved them. They were His precious children and deserved no less respect and compassion than an unbelieving businessman in the United States.

  "I ask your forgiveness. Your true Father in heaven loves you just as He loves me. I'm sorry if I insulted you or your people."

  Yaakov didn't even blink. What had she expected? That he would fall to his knees and ask God to forgive him?

  He continued as if they'd never spoken. "I'm pleased to announce that a chemical analysis showed the ashes have traces of hyssop and heifer as we expected. The Jews will be quite pleased. Now, if you are replete, Miss Kelly, I have something to show you. Let us adjourn to the library."

  Yaakov, in his hand-tailored European suit, strode purposely toward the library. John and Natasha walked behind him, followed by their ever-present guard. At the map display, Yaakov stopped and pulled out a sma
ll section of the paneled wall. He turned to catch Natasha's eye then pushed a tiny button. What had appeared to be a flat representation of Israel, swirled into life, exuding a 3-D holographic image of Israel's topography- a technological marvel, as well as a breathtaking display of light and color.

  She gasped. "Where in the world did you get that?"

  "Believe it or not, I designed it then had one of my scientists build it. I thought it might help you in your quest for the Garden of Eden." He smiled with all the confidence of a fox locked in a chicken coop. "I'm glad you like it."

  "You're brilliant to design something this spectacular. It's a shame you go around killing people to get what you want."

  Just once she was anxious to hear him admit why he thought it was all right to murder.

  "Miss Kelly, you have no idea of what you speak. There is more at stake than a homeland for the Jews and the Palestinians. Only someone with a vision for both worlds can ever achieve a lasting peace. But the stronger brother will rule the weaker, and those who refuse to embrace the purity of our vision will be purged from our world. Once we bring life to the desert, nothing will stand in our way. The world will bow at our feet for our oil and our gardens, and we will feed them."

  "For a price."

  His eyes flashed. "Nothing is free. We offer them a revolutionary way of life, even if we start a revolution to bring it to pass! If Israel will not give me the life from her Garden for the deserts of the world, then I will bring my wrath on Israel like a plague of blood. Your arguments are tedious and petty. If you will excuse me, I have an Israeli parliament to impress. Inshallah." He strode from the room with a princely bearing.

  If anyone could unite the Jews and Arabs, he certainly had the passion to do so. And little by little, he was gaining the resources. They had to stop him.

  She looked at John. "Was I wrong to confront his delusion?"

  "And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient; Being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, Backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, Without understanding, covenantbreakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful: Who knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them that do them." John shrugged. "Yaakov speaks as if he is beyond redemption, but I won't give up on his soul. I'm glad you 'confront his delusion,' as you call it. Now, tell me what you think of Yaakov's map. Have you any ideas for the location of Eden?"