by John Lyman
Looking out over the city, John felt himself being jostled by a large group of Japanese tourists crowding forward to snap pictures of the tower from this perspective. To those uninitiated in the Japanese method of moving en masse through a crowd, there was nothing offensive in their actions. The constant jostling and bumping was a way of life in Japan. Over time they had developed their own special rules of etiquette for such situations; an etiquette that seemed rude to westerners who always took offense at the bumping and pushing encountered in a small land with little space. On a visit to Tokyo once, John had been waiting for a train, and as the doors opened he found himself being pushed from behind into the waiting car. To the Japanese, this pushing was actually considered polite and helpful, and they were mystified at why American tourists always became so indignant after receiving a gentle push meant to help.
After the Japanese group had passed, John and Ariella found themselves standing alone, looking all around for a man neither of them had ever met. The time for their meeting had now come and gone and no one appeared interested in the young couple standing all alone on the terrace.
“What’s that?” Ariella asked.
“What’s what?”
“There’s a metal tube sticking out of your back pocket.” Ariella reached down and pulled what appeared to be a metal cigar tube from John’s pocket. “Smoking cigars now?”
“That’s not mine. Let’s see it.” Ariella handed the tube to John, and as they both stared at it, it finally dawned on them that someone had just shoved the object into John’s pocket while they had been distracted by the wave of Japanese tourists.”
“Open it,” Ariella said.
“What if it’s a bomb?”
“Really ... a bomb, John?”
Looking sheepish, John unscrewed the end of the metal tube and withdrew a piece of paper.
“Well ... what does it say?”
“It looks like Eduardo is leading us to a different location. I should have figured that he would want to see if we were being followed before he showed himself.”
“Where are we going?”
“Pére Lachaise.”
“I don’t speak French, John ... remember?”
“It’s an old cemetery in the 20th arrondissement.”
“A cemetery?”
“Yes. It’s actually one of the most visited cemeteries in the world. Literally hundreds of famous people are buried there. Chopin, Oscar Wilde, Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas ... Moliére; it’s even the last resting place for Jim Morrison of the Doors.”
“I still don’t understand. Why has he chosen a cemetery?”
“I have no idea, Ariella, but we need to get going. He’s given us only forty-five minutes to get there.”
Once again, the two were running—running down the stairs of the nearest metro station to connect with a subway car that would whiz them to their destination. Inside the station, John purchased a book of ten tickets before they headed out onto the platform. Now, with nothing to do, the waiting was the hardest part. Ariella remained calm, looking up and down the tracks, while John began to fidget, looking at all the faces around them for anyone who seemed unusually interested in their presence.
The muted roar from a dark tunnel heralded the arrival of a train, and in the whoosh of air that preceded its arrival, John strained to make out the number. It was the number 12, one of the trains that traveled line number 2 to the Philippe Auguste metro station that exited next to the cemetery’s main entrance. As soon as the train stopped, John and Ariella hopped onboard, followed by a hunched man wearing a light suit and a hat pulled low over his forehead. Taking their seats, John’s eyes followed the man as he passed by and took a seat a few rows down. He seemed innocent enough, and because of his obvious age, he was certainly no threat. But there was something in his lingering glance that had set alarm bells off in John’s head.
“What are you thinking, John?” Ariella asked. “You have that look.”
“The man in the light suit who just walked by and sat down behind us. Can you tell me what he’s doing?”
Pulling a nail file from her purse, Ariella dropped it on the floor and bent down to pick it up. As soon as she had it in her grasp, she looked up quickly and saw that the man was staring directly at her. Her sudden glance had caught him by surprise, causing his head to swivel around so quickly that it was obvious he didn’t want her to see he was looking in their direction.
“Well?”
“He’s watching us.”
“Let’s move to another car.”
Slowly, the two rose from their seats, making a show of stretching and looking around, as if they were unsure of where they wanted to be. Instead of walking away from the man, John decided to walk past him in an effort to make it appear they weren’t trying to avoid him. With the train rocking back and forth, they inched their way past as the man feigned indifference by staring out the window. Maybe he really wasn’t interested in them, but the stakes made it impossible for them to take that chance, especially now that they were so close to the man they had come all this way to meet.
After stepping into the next car, they stopped and peered through the smudged windows of the sliding doors between cars, waiting for the man to make his move. He remained seated, never turning his head as he peered through the window at the flashing tunnel lights.
“He doesn’t seem too interested in us now,” Ariella said.
“We won’t know for sure until we stop. If he follows us then we’ll have to shake him somehow before we meet up with Eduardo.”
Accompanied by the screech of brakes, the train slowed as it entered the brightly lit subway station across the street from the cemetery. As soon as the train stopped and the doors whooshed open, John took a final look back into the next car. The man was gone!
Surprised by his sudden disappearance, they waited as long as they could before stepping out onto the platform just as the doors slid shut behind them. Where had the man gone?
With no time left to wait, they began to move. The exit to the street above was only twenty yards away, so as they walked their eyes scanned the crowd for the man in the light suit, but he was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had changed seats and remained on the train. Wherever he had gone, at least he was not following them, which meant they were free to head for the cemetery and their meeting with Eduardo.
As soon as they were out in the open, they donned their sunglasses and followed along behind a group of tourists headed toward the main entrance. Once inside the cemetery’s tall gray walls, Ariella was surprised by the subdued, park-like beauty of the place. Trees were everywhere, providing shade for overflowing rows of towering stone monuments separated by cobblestone paths as wide as most Parisian streets. It was like nothing Ariella had ever seen before. Unlike the stark, concrete cemeteries that crowded the hillsides in Jerusalem, or the rolling green lawns seen in their American counterparts, this place was in a class of its own.
Although the majority of the current residents in this city of the dead had been buried below ground, their graves were marked by stunning sculptures that caused those wandering through the forest of memorials to gaze upon the scene in wonderment, as if they were in a museum. Covering one tomb, they saw the life-size carving of a man and wife, lying together and holding hands with their dog lying at their feet to signify that their cherished pet was entombed with them. Farther down, they spotted the life-size bronze casting of a man dressed in late 19th century period clothing, lying flat with his eyes closed—his top hat lying on its side beside him. The scene was especially bizarre considering the fact that the casting represented the way the man, a journalist by the name of Victor Noir, had been found lying in the street after he had been shot by Pierre Bonaparte, a cousin of Napoleon III. The cemetery was full of such sights. It was so special, in fact, that many Parisians came there for Sunday picnics far from the heat and bustle of the city of the living that lay just outside its gates.
Looking over their shoulders fo
r the man in the light suit, they continued along a cobblestoned path and over a slight rise. With the sun’s rays filtering through the trees and passing between the tall monuments, the smoky shafts of light created moving patterns on their clothing as they moved deeper into the cemetery away from the crowds. Alone now, the two stopped to get their bearings.
“It looks like I picked the perfect day for us to meet in this beautiful spot,” a voice called behind them.
Startled, the two froze as they stared between two monuments. Turning their heads slightly, they spotted a figure cloaked in shadow.
John moved quickly to place Ariella behind him. “Mr. Acerbi?”
Stepping into the sunlight, the man in the light suit extended a wrinkled hand. “Please, call me Eduardo. And this must be Lev’s beautiful daughter, Ariella.”
Moving around John, Ariella examined the man’s suit. “You were following us on the train.”
“Yes, that was me. I had to make sure you weren’t being followed. We have a lot to discuss today. Why don’t we walk together? I know a lovely little spot.”
“Mind if I ask you a question first, sir?” John asked.
“Please, be my guest. We’ll have no secrets between us this day.”
“Why did you choose this cemetery for our meeting?”
“I’m surprised by your question, Mr. Lowe,” Eduardo said, referring to John by his last name. “Especially coming from a young man who’s spent the past two years learning tactics from some of the best tacticians in the world.”
A glance in Ariella’s direction revealed John’s sudden discomfort. “I guess I’m still learning.”
“Then please, consider this just another lesson from an old man who likes to think of himself as a student of tactics, and the lessons I’ve learned over time have served me well in the world of business ... an endeavor much like combat.” Eduardo smiled as he walked between John and Ariella, holding onto both of them by their arms as if they were his grandchildren. “This cemetery provides literally thousands of hiding places, not to mention several avenues of escape. Spies have held clandestine meetings here for years for that very same reason.”
John glanced around at the thousands of tombs. “Yes, of course. I can see that now.”
Walking together with Eduardo, John and Ariella were slowly beginning to fall under the same spell the old man had woven over Leo and Lev the first time they had met in his small farmhouse in Foix. Instead of the titan of business they had expected, they were looking at a fatherly gentleman who seemed genuinely interested in the feelings of others, and they found it impossible not to like him.
“We heard you had a stroke,” Ariella said.
“A little bit of play-acting, my dear.” Eduardo released their arms as they reached a park bench. Sitting together, he smiled over at the two young people like they were long-lost relatives. “I actually collapsed in my garden, but I never suffered a stroke. I had what the doctors call a little warning sign ... a trans ischemic attack, which in layman’s terms means that the blood flow was temporarily blocked from my brain and I fainted. For a moment I thought I was dying ... that my time had finally come. But on the ride to the hospital I slowly began to regain my strength, and by the time I arrived in the emergency room in Bagdad I felt fine. It was then that a plan began to hatch in my mind ... a plan to escape from Iraq and make everyone think I was close to death.”
“But why would you do that?”
“It was a very necessary ploy to have me flown to my doctors here in Paris.”
“But that still doesn’t answer my question, sir. I mean, why didn’t you just hop in one of your corporate jets and fly here without having to pretend you were ill?”
“Because, young lady ... if I had appeared to be in control of all of my faculties, I would never have made it out of Babylon alive.”
CHAPTER 15
Alon Lavi checked his pistol one more time before shoving it into his waistband and stepping from behind one of the many tall monuments in the cemetery. Along with a four-man team of Mossad agents, he had been tailing John and Ariella through the streets of Paris ever since their arrival, and they had just made the decision to get closer, thus providing greater protection in case something went wrong. The Israelis always had a backup plan.
Walking quietly behind a row of stone tombs, the men were now in position to spot any threat to John and Ariella as they sat talking with Eduardo. Now that they had finally made contact with him, Alon and his highly-trained team knew their mission was moving into its most critical phase.
Moving in as close as he dared, Alon could just make out the profile of a man he had met only once, but right away he knew that the man doing the talking was Eduardo Acerbi and not some imposter sent to draw Lev’s daughter and son-in-law into some kind of trap.
“Why don’t we invite Alon and his team to join us?” Eduardo asked, his eyes reflecting a smoky shaft of light that had penetrated the tree cover above.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Mr. Acerbi,” John said. “We’ve come alone ... just as you asked.”
“I don’t mean to offend you, young man, but are you really naïve enough to believe that Lev Wasserman would send his only daughter into a potential trap without some serious backup?”
“We’re telling you the truth, Mr. Acerbi,” Ariella added. “You wanted to meet with us alone, and we’ve honored that request.”
Acerbi slowly rose to his feet, tottering briefly before running a blue-veined hand along the back of the green painted park bench in an effort to steady himself. “You and your team can come out now, Mr. Lavi.”
Behind the nearest tomb, Alon froze. Just like before, in his small house in Foix, Eduardo Acerbi was aware of everything that was going on around him. Speaking quietly into his radio, Alon quickly advised the other team members to hold their positions as he stepped forward and walked toward the park bench.
“Ah, there you are,” Eduardo said. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”
“And you too, Mr. Acerbi. Sorry about this ... orders.”
Jumping up from the bench, Ariella looked on in disbelief. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Acerbi. John and I knew nothing about this.”
“And I believe you my dear, but you must know it was the smart move. As much as he wanted to trust me, your father is incapable of letting his guard down, especially when it comes to protecting those he loves. He also knew that you and John had to believe you were alone, because people ... especially people like me, have a sense about such things. I too have eyes all around me, and they spotted Alon and his team when they arrived at the airport in the middle of the night.”
Alon’s face turned ashen. “How did you ...
“Like I said, Mr. Lavi, I have a core group of trusted individuals looking out for me, although at this moment I am truly alone except for the three of you and the men still concealed behind those tombs over there.”
“What do we do now?” John asked, peering at the wrinkled furrows around Eduardo’s eyes.
“Well, first of all, I know that the Carmela is on her way to Israel. And by now, word has reached my home in Babylon that I am perfectly well, which means there are men on the way here to kill me as we speak.”
“Kill you!” Ariella said, her voice rising a full octave. “But why ... who? I mean, are we talking about terrorists?”
“For now, let’s just say that I am standing in the way of a very powerful enemy ... an enemy that will stop at nothing until every member of the Bible Code Team is dead. By now they’ve most certainly discovered that I possess information that poses a grave threat to their plans, which means I am also one of their prime targets.” Eduardo paused to stare at the lengthening shadows settling across the park bench. After a moment, he looked up at all the blank faces staring back at him. “I’m afraid the enemy I speak of has been close to me for many years now, so you must believe me when I say that time is growing short.”
John sat back down on the bench and looked around. �
��I can’t believe all of this. We’ve got to get to the airport and get you on the next flight to Israel.”
“I can guarantee you the plane would never reach its destination.”
“How do you know that?”
“Those who seek to destroy me have very long arms.”
“What about your security people?” Alon inquired. “Those eyes you spoke of earlier. Where are they now?”
The old man smiled as he continued to support his frail body against the bench. “I’m afraid they are only eyes ... they have no weapons.”
“No weapons! What kind of security force has no weapons?”
“Cathars, Mr. Lavi ... Cathars. They’ve been my guardian angels ever since I arrived here in France, and even without guns they are more powerful than any security force on the face of the Earth, because they see everything around them. It is a trait they have inherited after spending seven hundred years watching what goes on around them to keep from suffering the same fate as their ancestors. But now I find myself having to call on you for my continued protection. The world is facing a grave threat and I feel it is my duty to sound the alarm. To that end I need men around me who can do more than just watch. That’s why I called.”
Alon stood still for a moment as he looked deep into Acerbi’s eyes. “Just tell us what you want us to do, Mr. Acerbi, and we’ll make it happen.”
“Just get me to the coast of Normandy ... and pray that those who wish to stop us haven’t already discovered where we are.”
CHAPTER 16
THE VILLA IN ISRAEL
The mood onboard the Carmela was tense as the yacht turned into the channel leading to the harbor at Caesarea. Constructed in 22 BC by Herod the Great on top of an old Phoenician port, the seafloor around the harbor was littered with historical treasures, making it a World Heritage site. However, because of Lev’s connections within the higher echelons of the Israeli intelligence community, the Carmela was the only boat allowed to dock there.