The Temple Mount Code (31 page)

‘If I do, the security people will shoot us.’

‘Why?’

‘They’ll think we’re carrying explosives. Get out of the car.’ Miriam opened her door and got out. A hail of bullets took out the front-passenger-side tire, and the taxi settled heavily on the ground, like an old dog lying down. She reached back into the vehicle, captured Lourds’s arm, and yanked. ‘Get
out
of the car now!’

Temporarily overpowered, Lourds flailed, then slid across the bloody seat on top of Miriam, pinning her to the ground under him.

‘Sorry.’

Before Miriam could reply, the professor pushed up off of her, got to his feet but remained hunkered down, and opened the rear passenger door. Bullets sprayed the flaming rear of the taxi. Instead of going away, the flames had spread, taking hold of the vehicle. As Lourds reached into the backseat, the fire spread to the rear tire, burning through the wall to let the air out, and the vehicle sagged again.

Miriam got to her feet. ‘What are you doing?’

Lourds pulled back from the taxi. He slung his backpack over one shoulder, held the thick book, their passports, and his journal in one hand, and clapped his hat on his head with the other.

Miriam silently cursed. In her efforts to save them, she’d forgotten about the book. But Lourds hadn’t. She reached out and took his hand, yanking him into motion as they ran away from the burning car. More bullets smacked into the taxi as they ran, and a moment later either the fire got to the gas tank or the bullets did.

The taxi exploded and leaped into the air, then came crashing straight back down. The concussive wave knocked Miriam and Lourds flat on the pavement.

Briefly stunned, Miriam gathered her whirling senses and struggled to get to her feet. Before she could stand, someone planted a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her back down again. She rolled over and the sun shone into her eyes, turning the men standing over her into painful silhouettes. Behind them, black smoke coiled up from the burning taxi and other vehicles, staining the blue sky.

She moved her head slightly and brought the man into view. She recognized the airport security uniform at once and felt relieved.

Beside her, Lourds sighed. ‘Thank God that’s over.’

39

First Class

Turkish Airlines

34,000 Feet

Leaving Istanbul, the Republic of Turkey

August 12, 2011

Lourds sat in the quiet gloom of the first-class cabin and blinked blearily. He hadn’t known he’d gone to sleep. The first thing he did was to make certain Lev’s book was still in his backpack at his feet. It was. Then he noticed that someone had covered him with a blanket.

At his side, Miriam Abata kept sleeping. She had turned sideways facing him, one arm tucked up uncomfortably under her chin like a child. He didn’t know how she could sleep like that. If he had, he’d have awoken stiff and hurting.

Glancing around, he found a bottle of water in the armrest, uncapped it, and took a sip. Then he leaned down, took the book from his backpack, took out his journal, and settled back to work. He felt eyes on him. When he looked back at Miriam, she had her eyes open.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘It’s okay. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’ She sat up and rubbed her eyes. ‘Guess I’m not a very good lookout.’

‘On the contrary, I think you did an exemplary job yesterday. But I’m beginning to think we should have restructured our trip to Tehran. Neither one of us is going to be much use for this morning’s meeting.’

‘Speak for yourself.’

Lourds smiled at her. ‘Actually, I’m not sure if we should stick to our schedule at all.’

Miriam suddenly looked more alert. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve been thinking about the attack at the airport.’

‘What about it?’

‘I don’t think that was a typical terrorist attack.’

‘Is there such a thing as a
typical
terrorist attack?’

Lourds shook his head and grinned wryly. ‘Of course not. But I’m thinking maybe the attack was aimed at us.’

‘Believe it or not, Professor, not everything is about you.’

‘I know. But I saw the media footage of the attack while we were in Istanbul. It’s already on YouTube. From what I saw, those men were coming straight for us.’

‘We were the only ones there in a taxi. Perhaps that marked us as a target of opportunity. Outsiders. Tourists. Killing Americans always makes a big international news splash. That’s what terrorists want.’

Lourds couldn’t argue that point. The media was already erupting with news of the attack. It was currently in the top ten on Twitter. ‘I’d think someone in a limousine would have made a better target.’

‘People in limousines tend to have more defensible vehicles and security guards.’

‘True.’ Lourds scratched his goatee. ‘We were fortunate the Israeli army was arriving. Otherwise, there would have been no help at all.’

‘Then we should count our blessings.’ Miriam’s gaze dropped to the book in his lap. ‘How are you coming on with the translation?’

Lourds shrugged and opened his journal. ‘If you just read the text, you don’t see anything eventful.’ He cleared his voice and started to read. “The prophet of God said: ‘While I was sleeping within the wall of the Ka’ba, Gabriel came to see me and kicked me with his foot, so I sat up, but not seeing anything, I lay again on my bed. He kicked me then once more, and I sat up and did not see a thing, so I lay back on my bed. He then kicked me a third time, and I sat up, whereupon he pulled me by the arm, and I rose, and went to the door of the temple. There was standing a white beast, between a mule and an ass in size, with two wings on its thighs, digging its hind legs in and placing its forelegs as far as it can see. Gabriel carried me on the beast, and we went together at the same speed.’ So the Prophet of God journeyed, and with him also Gabriel, until they reached the temple in Jerusalem. He found there Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, among other prophets, and he led them in prayers. Then he was given two vessels, one filled with wine and the other with milk, so the prophet of God took the vessel with milk and drank it, leaving the vessel of wine. Seeing that, Gabriel said to him: ‘You were guided to the true religion [Islam] and so was your nation, for wine is forbidden unto you.” This is all pretty much relayed in any version of the Koran you’d care to peruse.’

‘You have a wonderful reading voice.’

Startled, Lourds looked at the young woman. ‘Thank you.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you.’ Miriam looked embarrassed. ‘But we already knew the surface reading wasn’t extremely helpful.’

‘I know. It’s just frustrating because I know the answers Lev was looking for are somewhere in these pages. I just can’t seem to find them.’

‘Yet. Remember, Professor Strauss also believed Professor Namati has a cipher key that will unlock this book.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘You said the man who wrote this book was Yazid Ibn Salam.’

‘Right.’

‘All I can remember about him was that he had something to do with the Dome of the Rock.’

Lourds smiled. ‘Dear girl, not just
something
to do with that building. He was involved in the engineering of the Dome of the Rock, and he certainly cocontrolled the purse strings with Rajah ibn Haywah.’

‘What do we know about Salam?’

‘Not much. He’s almost a shadowy figure in history.’

‘Sounds suspicious already.’

‘Yes.’ Lourds chuckled. ‘What historians are fairly sure of is that Salam was born into a local Jerusalem family. Haywah was deeply enmeshed with the political doings in Palestine.’

‘It’s a wonder they got along.’

‘I think it was probably the idea of creating something lasting and unique that drew them together. Jerusalem had been conquered by the Rashidun Caliphate army at the time the Muslims overran Syria. Rome had already been battling the Persians during that time. That was in
AD
637, shortly after Mohammad’s death in
AD
632. The Dome of the Rock, Masjid Qubbat As-Sakhrah, was intended to be a shrine for pilgrims, not a mosque.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘An education is a wonderful thing. The Umayyad caliph, Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan, assigned Salam and Haywah to build the Dome over the Foundation Stone. You’re familiar with that?’

‘In Hebrew, it’s called
Even haShetiya
. And it’s also called the Pierced Stone.’

‘Because of the small hole in it that enters a cavern beneath the rock.’

‘They call that the Well of Souls.’

‘Correct. According to Muslim beliefs, during the end of days, the Foundation Stone will join with
al-Hajaru-l-Aswad
, the black stone of Mecca that lies in the Kaaba, which is supposed to have come from the time of Adam and Eve.’

Miriam looked at him quietly. ‘Have you given much thought to the end of the world?’

‘Not much. If you ask me, dwelling on that is both wasteful and depressing.’

‘Why?’

‘The end of the world? Most depressing thing ever, don’t you think?’ He smiled.

She laughed, a pleasant sound in the nearly silent first-class compartment. ‘All right, I’ll give you that, but why do you think trying to figure anything out about the end of the world is wasteful?’

‘We’re talking about the will of God here. Figuring it out isn’t going to give you the power to change it. And most religions agree that the end isn’t something meant to be realized by mortal men until such time is upon them.’

Shifting in the chair, Miriam thought for a moment. ‘So, as a record of Yazid ibn Salam, this book is unique because so little is known about him.’

‘The fact that so little is known about him also works against us.’

‘How?’

‘Verifying the authenticity of the authorship of this book is going to be next to impossible.’

‘So we have to take it on faith.’

‘Amazing how much of that is involved in our little adventure, isn’t it?’ Lourds shook his head. ‘Lev believed he was onto something important. I believe in Lev. And we all have to believe in this book.’ He brushed at the cover and ran his fingers over the brass corner pieces. ‘I have to admit, I do like the way it’s constructed.’

‘Read some more of it.’

Glancing at her and seeing she was once more curled up in the chair and looking sleepy, Lourds smiled. ‘Bedtime story?’

‘Something like that.’

‘All right.’ Lourds paged through the book and made a selection. ‘It is said: “The Caliph in Jerusalem sought to build for the Muslims a
masjid
that should be unique and a wonder to the world. And in like manner, is it not evident that Caliph Abd al-Malik, seeing the greatness of the martyrdom of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and its magnificence, was moved lest it should dazzle the minds of Muslims and hence erected above the Rock the dome which is now seen there.”’

He kept reading, absorbed in the story and searching for clues amid the complexity of the language. He didn’t know Miriam had gone back to sleep until he felt her head sag onto his shoulder. Then he covered her with his blanket, left the book in his lap, and closed his eyes. Sleep came for him in a rush, and he dreamed of the many times he’d visited the Temple Mount, never once suspecting that he would be drawn into a mystery that involved it.

In the back of the plane, Mufarrij sat quietly and thought about entering the land of his enemies. When he had seen the attack at the checkpoint while waiting for the flight at Ben Gurion International Airport, he’d worried that Lourds might be killed and the trail all but washed away. Then, when he’d discovered the American professor had survived, he’d worried that Lourds might cancel his trip altogether.

Mufarrij had stood back in the waiting area until Lourds had booked a later flight, then bought a ticket for that same flight. The police and security people had held Lourds for a while, but eventually they’d released him, as they’d released all the other people who’d been present during the attack.

If some of the travelers to Istanbul and to Tehran hadn’t been killed in the attack, seats would not have been available for Lourds and his companion, or for Mufarrij.

God provides
, Mufarrij reminded himself as he watched the first-class-section doorway. From his position, he could see the woman’s arm on her chair. He kept focused on that and bided his time.

While in Tehran, he would be in constant danger because of the price on his head, but he had gotten adept at slipping into and out of that country over the years. The Iranian Revolutionary Guard knew him by reputation, by the long line of dead men he’d left in his wake, but almost no one had seen him in the flesh. Any pictures they had of him were years out of date.

Under the circumstances, he knew he couldn’t feel any safer than he did at the moment.

Things would change in Tehran. He felt that in his bones.

40

Imam Khomeini International Airport

Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran

August 12, 2011

‘This is the captain. Please be advised that we’ll be landing in approximately twenty minutes. Put your seats in the upright position and return the trays. Temperature on the ground is twenty-two degrees Celsius. The local time is six fifteen. On behalf of Tehran, I bid you welcome.’

Lourds struggled to wakefulness, wiped at his eyes, yawned, and checked his satphone to make sure it had made the time change. He glanced at Miriam. ‘Want to grab breakfast at the hotel? Or get something in the airport?’

‘I can wait till we reach the hotel if you can. Things will be less stressful there.’

Before Lourds could ask her what she meant, she pushed up from the seat.

‘I’ll be right back.’ She walked down the aisle to the bathroom with her toiletry bag.

A few minutes later, she returned wearing a black
hijab
and
burqa
. Lourds stared at her.

‘What?’ She smoothed the
burqa
as she sat.

‘You’re Muslim?’

‘No.’ Miriam scowled. ‘And if I was, I wouldn’t buy into any part of religion that oppressed women.’