Read The Prophet Conspiracy Online
Authors: Bowen Greenwood
The Fund for Middle East Harmony existed only on paper. In the real world, it was nothing more than an extension of Hamas. When the terrorist organization had learned an American academic was asking Israel to fund a search for proof Muhammad had never been to the Temple Mount, the leadership had agreed at once something had to be done.
The Fund had been created using money from Iran and other sympathetic countries. Hurriedly, they had helped support a couple of random, irrelevant digs to give the Fund a track record. They had assigned responsibility for preventing this sacrilege to Haaris Toma. They had read Kendrick’s published paper on the subject and had determined the most likely places to find the so-called “evidence.” And then they had offered Professor Kendrick a vast sum of money to dig in the wrong place. At first, he objected they were asking for a dig in the least likely location.
The Hamas operatives posing as board members of The Fund had a simple answer. Their understanding of Islam was greater than his, and the place he was most likely to find evidence was in the Negev.
They also increased the amount of money they were offering until he said yes.
Once Kendrick had been dispatched on a fool’s errand, Hamas had also funded the real dig. At the site that seemed most promising based on Kendrick’s paper, they funded a few local archaeologists, with one significant requirement: they had to hire Toma as a worker. That way, he would personally be able to contain any find that might be unearthed. If the idiot American’s theory bore fruit, no whiff of the heretical artifacts would be allowed to reach the public.
What the Fund had brought into existence, the Fund could eliminate. Toma had already made the phone call that would close down Kendrick’s dig site in the southern desert. That had never had any purpose except to keep the meddling academic out of the way.
Moreover, the American woman’s evidence was now destroyed. There would be no picture in the newspapers proclaiming falsehoods about the Prophet.
One thing remained: the artifact itself. No one living had seen it but Toma and the American woman. The American was thoroughly discredited and had no more proof. But as long as the ruins existed at all, the risk existed with them.
Godwin had made sure there was no investigation at the site so far, despite the disturbance caused by the American.
But that wasn’t good enough.
The ruins from the seventh century must be destroyed.
Which was why Maya Godwin slid into the back seat of Umar’s sedan, directly behind Kendrick. The latter was still hooded and gagged, so he could not see her. Besides, he would not live to tell anyone what he saw.
“You know how dangerous this is,” Godwin snarled. “If I’m seen with you, it’ll be the end of me.”
Toma smiled as he taunted her.
“It’s not yet dawn, or I would not have this man in my car. Even if anyone was looking, there is no light by which you could be seen. Stop being so fearful.”
“Just tell me the plan.”
“This is the part I told you about back in that parking garage where we first made each other’s acquaintance. We go down to the dig. You wire up a nice bomb. We come back out. We go far away. Boom, that is the end of this fool’s” — here he elbowed Kendrick — “blasphemy about the Prophet’s night journey.”
“Why does it have to be me who sets the bomb?”
“Because I am not an explosives expert, and you are.”
“You had no trouble blowing up that apartment building.”
“Why are you stalling? Do you think there are no bomb-makers in Hamas? It’s what we do.”
“Then why me for this?”
“The elders of my organization have ordered that none of our people see the inscription. Rumor of this sacrilege must end completely. To be honest, I think they underestimate the faith of our people. I read Kendrick’s book about what might be written on that wall, and I have not fallen away from Islam. I doubt my belief is stronger than the rest of my people. But I promised the elders a very amusing plan to blow the dig up without any of our own people going inside. You are not in Hamas, obviously, so perhaps you didn’t know this: If you like to be alive, it’s unwise to go back on your promises to the elders.”
“Fine, but I told you, I’ll only do it if you’re right, and this inscription says what you think it says,” she said.
“Yes, yes. Your precious condition. That’s why Professor Kendrick is here. He can read this inscription. I’ve seen him do so. He will satisfy your precious conscience. He will tell you I am right about what it says.”
Godwin knew very well who Kendrick was. From his funding request to the Israeli government through his kidnapping yesterday, she had encountered far more information about him than she wanted. But at least she knew for certain he could do what Toma said.
She nodded her head in Kendrick’s general direction.
“Let him speak then,” she said.
Toma shook his head. “Oh, I’m going to keep him with me for a while yet. The professor knows too much about all this. I’m not letting him out of my sight. He comes down in the dig with me. When you meet us there, he can read it for you in person.
“It’s extra incentive for everyone,” he added. “For Kendrick, if he does anything wrong, he gets left at the dig to die when the bomb goes off. For you, you get to watch his face while he translates, so I have less nitpicking from you to deal with. And for me? It’s always fun if one of our bombs kills an American or two so if he misbehaves, having him right there will entertain me.”
“Fine. Let’s get down there then.”
The terrorist shook his head.
“You’re missing the last piece of the puzzle, Godwin. Dorn.”
“What about him?”
“I had to leave him alive back at the dig. And now he knows it’s me behind all this. Surely you haven’t forgotten how much the man wanted to go after me?”
Godwin’s voice took on a worried note, and she looked around as if she could somehow spot Dorn in the predawn gloom around them.
“You think he’s coming here?”
Toma smirked. “I am certain of it. Which is why I want you to arrange security. Your best agents, Godwin. Tell them this is Dorn’s next target.”
“I’m not setting a bomb to kill my own agents.”
Toma replied, “I don’t really care whether they die or not. You’re the demolitions expert. Set the bomb so the explosion is controlled and contained. Do whatever you have to do. Just make sure your people are guarding the entrance, and then meet me inside the dig.”
A violent shudder made it obvious the message had been communicated.
“Now, we’re going to be taking a very interesting little walk, Professor Kendrick,” the terrorist said. “We’re heading for the dig site where the American girl took that picture.”
Kendrick’s mouth was gagged, he couldn’t speak. Even if he could, he wasn’t sure what to say.
“You are going to tell my colleague who just left us what the inscription says. If I have any sense at all — even the tiniest impression — you have been anything less than completely honest with me, I will shoot you. It won’t be like the red-haired woman shouting at you and doing nothing. I will pull the trigger the instant I feel like you’re withholding something. But shooting you does not mean killing you, yes? There are many very painful ways to put a bullet in a man that leave him alive. You may be sure I know about these things. So if I think you’re not telling me everything the inscription says, I will shoot you but leave you alive so you get a second chance to tell me the truth. Possibly even a third chance.”
Kendrick’s gag left him no option but to nod.
Toma went on. “It should be too early, but we may have to pass through some tourists to get to the dig. I will have my hand on you the whole time. If you try to run away, I will shoot you. If you try to give someone a signal, I will shoot you. Is everything clear?”
Again, the professor nodded.
With that settled, Toma exited the car
********
Kendrick heard the driver’s side door open. Seconds later, the door right next to him also opened. Roughly, the old man felt himself pulled out of the car and to his feet. His hood came off, revealing a sky fading rapidly from black to blue.
“Pulling the tape off will hurt very much,” the terrorist said. “Don’t scream. Do you understand me?”
Kendrick nodded.
“Very much” was an understatement. Only by biting his lower lip until it almost bled could he keep his mouth shut and avoid the scream.
As his captor released his various restraints, Kendrick began to flex his muscles, trying to get his blood flowing again. His hands were still zip tied, and he wanted very much to get them free so he could use them. He held them out to his captor.
“I’m going to leave your hands secured until we’re down in the dig. It will make it less likely you cause trouble.”
Kendrick was too afraid to say anything, but the man must have seen the disappointment in his eyes.
“You should be more grateful, Professor. I am about to give you a chance to see the very thing for which you came to Palestine.”
Kendrick wasn’t surprised to hear the preferred Arab name for the region rather than Israel, but he was surprised to hear this man knew why he was here.
“How would you know why I came here?” he whispered as the terrorist pushed them off toward the front entrance to the dig.
“Have I not mentioned it yet?” the man said, mock courtesy in his voice. “I thought you might have realized already. I am The Fund for Mideast Harmony, Professor Kendrick.”
“What?”
“Not so loud, Professor. Just because the tourists are not awake yet does not mean you are allowed to make noise.
“Yes, I funded your dig down in the Negev. I insisted you go there, despite your protestations it was the least likely place to look. We wanted to make sure no one who could actually do something with the knowledge ever saw what you were looking for so we dangled a lot of money in front of you and sent you as far away from this place as we could.”
From the very beginning, his efforts had been doomed. The funding for his dig, the enthusiasm the fund showed for his ideas… all of it had been a lie.
Kendrick looked over at the man holding him prisoner. A terrorist of some kind. PLO, Hamas, Hezbollah, Isis… Kendrick wasn’t interested in modern Mid-East politics, only the kind from centuries ago. He couldn’t tell one terrorist from another.
But if they had been pulling his strings like a puppet from the beginning, he at last faced the cold truth he had been trying to wish away. From the moment this man appeared at his dig, it had been out there, scratching at the door, howling to be let in.
They weren’t going to let him go after he translated.
He was going to die.
The old truck wouldn’t go much more than 90 miles per hour. And from the sound the engine made after 20 minutes, it had been too great a burden. Cam pushed their luck and stayed on the road for 25 minutes, even though he assumed the truck had been reported stolen by then.
He drove it off onto a side road, then another side road, and then a dirt track, eventually parking it behind some rocks to make it harder to spot from the road.
Siobhan sat on the rocks, looking at the Jerusalem skyline, waiting for Cameron to come up from the truck. Her ankle felt almost completely recovered, but still she rested it gingerly on the ground. Sitting still for a moment gave her a chance to turn over events in her head.
In a way, she had known Kendrick would betray her. He had never done anything but. And yet, her decision-making leading up to visiting his dig was sound. Trying to find another academic to translate the inscription would have been too risky. With she and Dorn all over the news as terrorists, any attempt to walk onto a university campus would have ended in disaster.
Liar though he was, painful as it had been to see him again, Kendrick had been their only choice.
He obviously could read it and judging by how wide his eyes had gone, it said exactly what she had hoped it would say. But once again, he chose to hold her back for his own advantage.
She took her letter out of her back pocket, unfolding it from its case. The ink was faded and completely gone from the lines where it had been folded, but it was still possible to make out phrases like “serious academic offense” and “deepest regret.”
She wanted to scream but was afraid to make noise. She almost ripped her old letter in half. The more she thought about him, the angrier she got.
She knew what her boss the pastor would say about that. With a sigh, she tucked the letter back in its case and put it away in her pocket.
Cameron was completely unashamed about the fact he might murder Toma. Should she feel that way about Kendrick? She couldn’t quite make herself go so far.
At that moment, Cameron walked up to stand beside her, and Siobhan rose to her feet.
“What did you think of Kendrick, now you’ve met him?”
Cameron used a couple words her boss would have frowned on.
She nodded and then said, “What do you think happened to him? We left him with that guy — Toma, Umar, whoever — and who knows what happened after. We heard gunshots. Some of them were aimed at us down the hole, but I didn’t count. Do you think he killed Kendrick?”
“Toma’s a murderer. It wouldn’t surprise me,” Cameron replied. “But if he really did kill Kendrick, his next move would probably have been to come down the tunnel to find us. He didn’t. That tells me he was doing something else. It’s likely he kidnapped Kendrick.”
“Why?”
Cam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But Toma’s going to that dig where you uncovered the inscription, and Kendrick’s an archaeologist. If he did kidnap him, I suspect the explanation is in between those two facts somewhere. Come on. We can’t afford to be late.”
About a half hour from where they ditched the truck, they reached a gas station on the road to Jerusalem. There they caught a bus into town, putting their disguises to the test in a situation where it would be easiest to get away. The driver never even gave them a second glance.
********
Several hours later, Maya Godwin was barking orders at the
dozens of Shin Bet agents. Disguised as civilians, they were assembled around her in a circle. She had allowed Toma time to drag his prisoner down into the dig before summoning her people. Now, it was time to begin.
The sun beat down mercilessly, and Maya knew the soldiers would be sweating. She was as well, although she did her best not to let it affect her poise. Around them, the low stone buildings seemed like an audience looking down on the show.
Godwin said to the agents, “The known terrorists Cameron Dorn and Siobhan McLane struck again this morning. They stole a truck, and it was recovered barely 25 kilometers outside Jerusalem. Everything we’ve learned points to a third bomb today. We have a credible source close to Hamas that indicates the target will be right here. Right in the middle of tourist heaven makes a bigger statement, if you’re a terrorist.
“This man — this traitor who used to be one of us — has killed nearly 20 people since he started. This is the first time we’ve gotten out ahead of him.”
She paused for a moment before concluding, “We’ve already closed Hezekiah’s tunnel to tourists. Now, the task before us is simple. If you see Dorn heading for the tunnel, stop him. Segal, you’re in charge of the rear entrance. Lahn, Williams, and Klieg, the front entrance. The rest of you, roving patrols around the area. If you see the suspect, do whatever you have to do. Questions?”
There were none, of course. Godwin watched her people fall out and go about the tasks she had assigned them. At moments like this, the guilt threatened to strangle her. This was a well-integrated and effective team, and she was supposed to be a part of it.
********
Wearing a t-shirt about the Wailing Wall and blue jeans, Eli Segal looked like a tourist, which was good because he was supposed to look like one. Godwin had ordered the area around the pool of Siloam and Hezekiah’s tunnel flooded with assets to prevent Cameron Dorn from getting near it.
The Shin Bet agents were supposed to spot Dorn if he showed up, but Segal had different ideas. He hoped to observe something here that would help him figure out how and why Dorn was being framed, and who was doing it.
So far, it was a futile hope. He hadn’t seen much of anything. He was assigned to the back door now, where he wouldn’t be able to see much of anything. Before he went to his duty station, he took one last look at the entrance to Hezekiah’s tunnel. The gift shop, the ticket counter, and the covered waiting area were completely cleared out. Even the omnipresent cats of Jerusalem had abandoned the area. Shin Bet agents made sure it stayed abandoned.
The sun was bright, and Segal had to shade his eyes to avoid being blinded. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the desert heat was on full display.
He looked away but at the last second jerked his head back.
Was that…
Why would Maya Godwin be going down into the tunnel? She was supervising; she should stay above ground. If she really thought Dorn was planting a bomb in there, there was no reason to go in herself and certainly not alone. If she thought Dorn were actually down there, there would be a legion of agents behind her if she went in.
It couldn’t really be her.
It was a trick of the setting sun getting in his eyes.
You can’t trust anything you think you see in light like that.
Segal froze in place with his mouth hanging open. Gooseflesh rose on his arms and his hair stood on end.
In the midst of the blazing desert day, a chill swept over him and he shivered.
You can’t trust anything someone claims to see in light like that.
Back at the dig, when Kendrick had been kidnapped. He tried to tell Maya about the worker who saw Haaris Toma there, and she had dismissed it because the eyewitness couldn’t have seen clearly in the dim light of dawn.
But he had never told her the witness said it was at dawn.
The Division Director herself? It couldn’t be. It simply could not be.
And yet, long before Dorn’s supposed reign of terror began, his clerks intercepted that phone call hinting at Hamas turning someone in the Shin Bet into a double agent.
With his mouth still hanging open and goosebumps still on his arms, Segal walked, half in a daze, to the entrance to Hezekiah’s tunnel.
He knew the agents there; there was no need to flash his ID.
“I’m with Division Director Godwin,” he told them, pointing vaguely deeper into the tunnel.
They waved him right through.
Segal had been through the entire exhibit once before. He knew it could take a solid hour to walk all the way through both the museum area and the tunnel. It would probably take even longer when trying to sneak up behind someone. He was supposed to be in charge of guarding the back entrance to the tunnel, but instead he’d be stuck here for quite some time. His choice not to be there would leave the other entrance lightly guarded. But all of a sudden, this seemed much more important.
Heart racing, afraid of what he might find, Segal descended into Hezekiah’s tunnel.
********
But there was one major difference between the scene before her and her memory. The area was largely deserted. A few people walked around, not going into the tunnel or the city of David, but they were nothing compared to the crowds she had seen here before.
“It looks like they’ve closed it to tourists,” Cam said when she asked. “Those guys walking around are professionals. They’re not going into any of the tourist attractions; they’re walking much too purposefully and looking around much too alertly to be anything but pros. I expected this, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
They walked away. Once they had gone a few blocks, Cam paused.
“Give me a moment here, Siobhan. I’ve got to think.”
“Could we go in the back way?” she replied.
Cam said, “Might as well try. Normally, no one goes in that way, so there’s no ticket taker or anything. With the area closed off, we might be able to do it. If we can get past the patrols, that is.”
They walked away a few blocks. Siobhan found the stone-paved streets of old Jerusalem bewildering. She couldn’t keep track of Cam’s navigation and soon felt completely lost. To her, it seemed like a maze of low buildings, white and light tan against the heat of the desert sun.
And then, suddenly, Cam rounded a corner and the two of them were staring down an alley at the pool of Siloam. Just as in the first time she’d been here, the water was more gone than not. This time, so were the tourists.
Siobhan’s mind flashed back to the huge crowd of people the last time she had been here. She had been so scared, and so happy to see the IDF soldiers, and so disappointed when they turned on her. It seemed like those things had happened to a different person.
Cam interrupted her reverie, pulling her back around the corner just in time; she heard the sound of booted feet walking by no more than a second after she was out of sight.
Motioning for her to stay put, he walked to the front of the alley. It was narrow — barely wide enough for two people to get past each other. At the end, he paused, peeked around the corner, and stood there. He stayed in one place long enough Siobhan began to think about coming to him. Just as she was about to, he hurried back to her position.
Cam pushed her back a bit until she was completely hidden behind the corner as, once again, they heard the sound of combat boots on cobblestones.
“So far, it looks like the patrols come by every five minutes,” Cam said. “So here’s the plan. We wait ‘til the next one comes by, just to be sure about the timing. Then, as soon as they’re far enough away for us to get away with it, we run like crazy past the pool and into the exit of the tunnel.”
Siobhan nodded. She tried to wait as patiently as she could for the next patrol to come by, but the time seemed to crawl. All the while she was afraid they were going to be caught. What if the patrols who had already come by happened upon their location? They’d be caught lurking — definitely not normal tourist behavior. The sun beat down, but that wasn’t the only thing that made her sweat.
Finally, she heard the footsteps of the next patrol. She moved as if to peek at them, but Cam held her back. Instead, he remained hidden until the noise of their footsteps sounded like it had passed the alley. Only then did he peek out.
Beckoning Siobhan silently, he quietly made his way down the short alley until he could peek around the corner. He looked both ways, and then waved his hand forward and pointed across the road, motioning her to run.
Siobhan ran as quickly as she could, trying to move as fast as possible without making a sound. Only the slightest twinge in her ankle reminded her of the fall down the tunnel that morning. She crossed the street and came to a wall. Around the corner was a narrow passage almost like a hall or an alley. It led to the back entrance to Hezekiah’s tunnel.
She and Cam sprinted down that path and into the dark shaft. They reached the exit of Hezekiah’s tunnel and climbed down into it and out of sight.
The last time she had been here, staff had been waiting to make sure people got out OK and to help them with their wet clothes. But with the entire area closed off for the day, there were no workers left. Cam and Siobhan were able to enter the tunnel from the rear completely uninterrupted.