The Temple Mount Code (39 page)

‘You’re always famished.’

Lourds showed her a mock scowl, then headed for the corner of the room where the ladder led up to the house above them. He knocked, was allowed to exit, and went up.

Miriam lay back on the bed and stared at the winged horse.

She awoke again when Lourds sat on the bed. Her hand curled on the butt of one of the pistols almost before she realized it.

Lourds grimaced, knowing what had happened. ‘I’ve never had a graduate student quite like you.’

Feeling slightly embarrassed, not sure if Lourds’s naïveté was genuine or not, Miriam left the pistol under the pillow and sat up.

He held a plate loaded with food. ‘I thought we could share.’ He handed it to Miriam, who balanced it on her crossed legs.

Lourds got up and returned with the statue and the book. ‘Lev caught onto the secret behind the code before I did. Maybe it was something he saw or something he read. Maybe he read Sahih al-Maliki’s name and realized that the man had made the statue of al-Buraq that Professor Namadi had, I don’t know. Perhaps he learned we’re starting with different theories in our translations.’ He held up the winged horse. ‘The code is with the horse.’

Leaving the food alone for the moment, Miriam took the horse and examined it. It felt heavy and solid, just as she remembered it had from the previous day. ‘There are no hiding places in the statue.’ She hesitated. ‘I think you said the secret wasn’t what was
inside
the horse, but what was on the
outside.
’

‘Exactly.’ He captured one of her hands in his and held her fingers flat as he stroked the horse’s side. At first, she felt nothing, then she noticed the small nubs, irregularities. ‘Do you feel those?’

‘Yes.’

‘We were very fortunate. Those could have been worn away over the years. I don’t think the secret of the horse and the book were supposed to be separated. They were meant to stay together. Maybe only one or two people each generation knew their secret as they were handed down. A death robbed the world of this treasure for hundreds of years or even more than a thousand. The important thing is that they’re meant to be used together.’

‘How?’

Lourds opened the book and laid the statue on one of the pages. He squared the horse up so it was facing toward the center of the book and the foundation matched the line drawn across the bottom of the page. ‘I used a light dusting of charcoal to mark the contact points and pick out the symbols.’

When he removed the horse, six of the Farsi words on the page were marked.

Stunned, Miriam gazed at the words. ‘These words are part of a hidden message?’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s the message?’

‘It’s dire, I’m afraid.’ Lourds cleared his throat. ‘“I have held the Holy Koran of the great Mohammad in my hands. I have held the scroll that is our future. A worker found them both in a secret chamber dug under the holy rock from which Mohammad ascended to the heavens. I ordered the worker killed so no word of the Great One’s texts would ever be known. No man’s eyes should rest upon the sacred scroll because the Great One foresees the coming of the last religious campaign to turn the world into believers. The sky will burn with great fire and explosions that will destroy cities and states. The fire will rise high into the sky and reach the heavens. The explosions will shake the earth and be heard around the world. Islam will lay waste to the armies of the nonbelievers across the world. The Scroll orders in the future a great
jihad
against all infidels using this great fire and explosion which Islam has acquired until all finally yield to the power of Islam and convert. The Christian Kingdoms shall fall first before the devastation.” The author adds, “Look for the Winged Beast, and the texts of the Great One will be found.”’

Miriam was surprised at how afraid the passage made her feel. ‘That sounds suspiciously like nuclear weapons.’

‘I know. There’s another message that’s repeated over and over, but I can’t make sense of it. It says that the key lies in the four corners of the world.’

‘Maybe it’s referencing a map in the text. Isn’t there a map in the book?’

‘Several in fact.’ Lourds flipped through the book and showed her the beautifully hand-drawn maps of Jerusalem, Mecca, Abyssinia, Yathrib – Medina, and other countries of the Arabian Peninsula. ‘There’s even blueprints of the Dome of the Rock.’ He turned to that page, located in the center of the book, and the pages fell open evenly.

Miriam stared at the diagram of the Dome and was again taken by its beauty. The blueprint was done with a sure and steady hand, and there were even engineers drawn into it as they worked on various facets of the Dome.

‘Maybe … maybe I translated it wrong.’ Lourds’s voice was hushed as he studied the drawing. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the four corners of the world. I was thinking world, but maybe al-Maliki was referring to the book.’ He reached for one of the hinged brass corner pieces of the book.

Excitement thrilled through Miriam as she watched him work. He took out the small knife he carried and opened one of the specialty blades. Working the tip between the leather and metal, the corner piece popped off into his palm. When he opened it, forming an hourglass shape, scratches marred the smooth finish inside.

Symbols marked three of one of the piece’s sides and two sides on the other. The two pieces both shared one of the symbols, and Lourds unhinged both pieces and refitted them together, matching the symbol on the first piece to its mate on the second. Delicate burrs on the sides of the pieces allowed them to fit together exactly. Engraved lines met perfectly.

‘This is it.’ Lourds’s voice was a hoarse whisper. With meticulous care, he took apart the other three corners and opened them.

Together, they matched the symbols and fit the pieces together till they had a brass map assembled of the eight pieces. It wasn’t square as Miriam had at first thought it would be, but a stair-stepped construction instead.

‘Is that a cavern system?’ Miriam traced the markings.

‘That’s what it looks like.’ Lourds peered more closely at it. ‘There’s writing here.’ He went to his backpack and drew out a magnifying glass. He turned the map to better catch the light. Then he gave the map to Miriam. ‘See if you can read that.’

Miriam took the map and the magnifying glass. She struggled with the symbols, and Lourds helped her in several places. ‘“Where do the Souls gather in the Well and where does Mohammad see heaven?”’ She looked up at Lourds in disbelief. ‘You think this refers to the Well of Souls in the Dome of the Rock?’

He stared back at her. ‘Don’t you?’

Miriam couldn’t answer. It was too fantastic. And yet, just like the corner pieces of the book, it all fit. ‘There’s a cavern under the Dome of the Rock?’

‘According to that map, there’s more than one. Mohammad’s Koran and the Scroll are hidden somewhere in that cave system. If we can find the right starting point, if we can find these caves – ’

‘If you can get into that place without being killed.’

‘If
we
can. Then we can find out if this legend is true.’ Lourds looked at her. ‘There may not be anything there. This might all still be just a story, you know.’

‘But you don’t think it is.’

‘No.’

‘Neither do I. Keep that thought. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ She reached under the pillow for her pistols, tucked them into her waistband, pulled on the hated
burqa
that now served to disguise her armament, and left him standing there looking like he’d been hit with a baseball bat.

49

Covert Operations

Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations (Mossad)

Tel Aviv, Republic of Israel

August 15, 2011

The phone rang, and Sarah Shavit picked up the handset. ‘Hello.’

‘
Ketsas
Shavit, I have a phone call from Orchid.’

Sarah let out a sigh of relief. She had worried for the past two days, ever since Miriam Abata had abruptly gone missing. Despite years of experience as a
ketsas,
the job still took its toll because there was no way to completely divorce herself from the fears that arose on a daily basis.

‘Put her through.’

Connections clicked, then Miriam was there.

‘Hello, Auntie.’ Miriam sounded worn, but she also sounded like she was handling herself.

‘Hello. I haven’t heard from you lately.’

‘It’s been busy here. I think you saw the troubles in the news.’

Meaning the prison attack?
‘There has been some mention of local discontent.’

‘I was in the middle of it.’

Sarah’s stomach filled with cold lead. She’d heard the stories that came out of Evin Prison. The place was a pit of blackest evil. ‘Are you all right?’

‘My professor saw me through.’

‘Really?’ Sarah couldn’t believe Lourds would have had the wherewithal to manage something like the assault on the prison.

‘He’s met some really good friends here. They’re going to take us to our next destination.’

‘The northwest section?’ Meaning the Kurds.

‘Yes. We thought we’d visit Turkey before we returned home.’

‘I will let your uncle know to expect you.’

‘Good. The professor’s friends will be helpful, but I’d like to know that family is looking out for us as well.’

‘They will be there.’ Sarah made a quick notation of the Mossad teams she would put into the area. ‘I want to send you a care package.’

‘I would love something from home.’

Sarah wrote a quick e-mail to get one of the local Mossad spies to deliver an encrypted phone to Miriam. ‘It will be there soon. The same place?’

‘That would be fantastic.’

‘What about your professor? Did he get the chance to finish his work?’

‘He did, although he still needs to explore the matter further.’

‘He’s returning as well?’

‘Yes. We hope to see you soon.’

Young Revolutionaries’ Safe House

Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran

August 15, 2011

Despite the relative safety of his hiding place, Lourds’s stomach still tightened when the trapdoor opened. He was relieved and confused when he saw Miriam descending the ladder with a bag in one hand. She’d been gone almost two hours, and he’d begun worrying about her.

‘Where have you been?’

‘Shopping.’ Miriam dropped the
burqa
to the floor and stood there in a new blouse and business slacks. The shoes were new, too. ‘I seem to lose more clothes in this country.’ Without another word, she divested herself of the blouse and slacks as well, hanging those carefully over the back of a nearby chair.

She stood there in lime green bra and panties.

‘I can see how you’d have a problem losing clothes.’

‘Get over here, and you can help me lose these.’

Lourds got up and went to her. He kissed her deeply as he slid his arms around her. Her small, hard body pressed into his, and he felt her hunger. They kissed passionately for a time, then she started stripping him as he stood there. As she unbuttoned and unzipped his clothing, he stroked her breasts and hips, making her breath quicken in anticipation.

Then, when he was nude, she pulled him toward the bed.

‘I do hope you locked the trapdoor.’

She grinned at him as she backed onto the bed. ‘I told them to leave us alone unless the Revolutionary Guard comes calling.’

‘I certainly hope they don’t.’ Lourds kissed her deeply again. ‘For several reasons.’ He removed her bra with a deft twist of his fingers that made her giggle in delight. Then he slid her panties off.

When he went to her, she was warm, wet, and ready. He sheathed himself and rode her tenderly, bringing her to a surprisingly quick climax that ended in tears.

‘I’m sorry.’ Lourds tried to back away.

She caught him and held him, smiling. ‘Don’t you go anywhere. I’m not done with you.’ She looked up at him. ‘Three days ago, I thought I was going to die. Now I want to celebrate the fact that I didn’t. This … this is a big part of the celebration.’ She grinned at him impishly. ‘Bigger than I’d anticipated, actually.’

Lourds leaned down and started kissing her again, then started moving, finding her more and more accepting, till the mutual rush of pleasure swept them away.

Kurd Village

Three Miles East of Turkish Border

Oshnaviyeh (Shino), West Azarbaijan Province

The Islamic Republic of Iran

August 16, 2011

Davari stood on a craggy rock shelf and looked down at the treacherous mountain terrain. Even though the trail was used often enough to be clear, it would be hard to follow at night. But the people he sought were desperate. The American professor and the woman had been largely undetectable until a few hours ago, when one of his Kurd spies had called the Revolutionary Guards from a short-wave radio.

There had been a chance that Lourds and the traitors that helped him would get through, but Davari had spread the word – and the Ayatollah’s wealth – to arrange a spotting network. The Kurds were their own people, as hard and as unforgiving as the mountains they lived in. They knew no masters and very few friends, but they appreciated the weapons Davari had offered in exchange for information.

The expedition had set out on horseback nearly eight hours ago and obviously intended to keep riding till they crossed over into Turkey a few kilometers farther north.

‘Is that them?’

Davari looked back over his shoulder.

Klaus Von Volker stood in the cold, looking decidedly unhappy. He’d been a reluctant guest in the Ayatollah’s palace since he still hadn’t dealt with the investigation awaiting him in Austria for the attempted murder of Thomas Lourds.

‘Yes.’ Davari identified Lourds’s hat. The American’s conceit was going to be the death of him one day. The colonel waved to his men, and they took up their positions along the mountain ridge. He lifted the assault rifle and peered down at the line of horses, curling his finger around the trigger and waiting for the right moment to spring his ambush.