“Just before Baruch made the truth-tellers leave me, they told me something,” Hana said. Tears began rolling down her cheeks. “The bad man will kill Rivka before the sun is high today.”
“How?” Ari asked. An icy fist grabbed at his insides, twisting until he could not breathe. “When? Where?”
“I saw her on the ground. The bad man stood over her, holding a thing in his hands. It threw fire and smashed her head to bits.” Hana covered her face with her hands.
“We must find her,” Baruch said. “Brother Ari, do you know where she might be?”
Ari tried to think. Damien still lurked in the streets with a gun. Apparently, Rivka would not rest until she confronted him again.
He suddenly remembered Damien’s spreadsheet. The second asterisk—today! How could he have forgotten?
“Brother Baruch, do you know where the Sanhedrin meets?” Ari asked.
“Yes, in the Chamber of Hewn Stone,” Baruch said.
“I think she will be there,” Ari said. “Take me.”
Suddenly, Hana began wailing. “I saw it! I saw it! Just now, the bad man threw fire at her!”
“Leave her!” Baruch shouted. “Lying spirit, I command you to come out of her!”
Hana collapsed on the dirt floor, retching.
Despair washed through Ari. He slumped against the wall, unable to feel, to think, to act.
“No!” Baruch grabbed Ari’s arm and slapped him hard in the face.
A pulse of anger shot through Ari. “Leave me alone! Can’t you see—”
Baruch slapped him again. “Brother Ari, the Evil One whispers always to your heart that it is better to do nothing than to do something. And you are foolish enough to believe. In the name of Yeshua, I command you to be bold, Ari. Bold as a lion. Do not listen to the lies of the Evil One.” He yanked Ari toward the door. “Sister Miryam, stay with Hana and pray. We also will pray on the way.”
Ari held back. “It is hopeless, Brother Baruch.”
“So were you!” Baruch said. “You were dead, Ari. Now run with me, or the lies will be found true because you delayed.”
Baruch turned and ran out the door. Ari dashed after him, glancing at his watch. Almost 1 P.M.
Outside, the sun blazed high overhead. Baruch loped ahead, shouting something that caused heads to turn and people to move aside. Ari raced after him, his breath scorching his lungs. Two days ago, he had reconciled himself to Damien. But that was then. This was now.
If Damien had harmed so much as a fingernail on Rivka’s body, he would die.
* * *
Rivka
Rivka sat on her bench, every nerve taut with anticipation. Dr. West sat between her and the door, but she dared not move closer. That risked having him notice her.
How would the scene play out? In the last half hour, Rivka had imagined half a dozen scenarios. In some, Dr. West won. In some, he lost. Each of them ended with a bullet coming at her with nightmarish slowness. She shook her head. Don’t think about that. Just think about—
The door began opening.
It’s him! God, tell me what to do next!
* * *
Damien
The instant the door began opening, relief washed over Damien. He had been here quite a while, and still no sign of Rivka. His biggest fear was that she would be able to mobilize another mob, like yesterday. But she couldn’t do that unless she could see him. Obviously, his disguise had worked. Now it was too late. Anything Rivka could do now would be irrelevant. She had run out of time.
He stood up slowly, so as not to arouse the attention of the soldiers. They clustered tightly around their prisoner, herding him across the square in the direction they had come earlier. As they turned their backs on him, Damien began moving forward. They were only twenty yards away, but he needed to get a bit closer. To kill Paul, he would have to shoot a few of the soldiers. He had ten bullets in his Makarov nine millimeter semi-automatic, plus a couple of spare clips. He could be sure of killing Paul with only two bullets, so he had plenty for the Romans.
Damien pursued the soldiers and quickly closed the gap. Ten yards behind them, he reached under his cloak and yanked the gun out of his shoulder harness. He assumed the shooter’s stance, released the safety, raised his arm, sighted on the back of the rearmost soldier, and—
Something leaped on his back, lashing at his arms, spoiling his aim. “Nooooooo!” someone shrieked in his ear.
Rivka Meyers! Damien staggered forward, caught his balance, then jerked his left elbow back hard, trying for her solar plexus.
She scratched at his face. Damien safed the gun and allowed himself to fall over backward. Rivka tried to support his full weight, but couldn’t. Together, they collapsed into the dirt.
He heard the air whoosh out of her. Her death grip on him relaxed.
Damien rolled to his right and leapt to his feet. Rivka still lay there on the ground, gasping for breath. Damien risked a look back at the Romans.
They had all kept marching straight ahead without even bothering to look back. Nobody else in the square seemed to show any interest. It occurred to Damien that this probably looked like a typical domestic spat.
Rivka staggered blindly to her feet.
Damien let her stand all the way up. Then he slammed his heavy hand into her chest.
She fell back into the dirt and lay there for a moment, panting.
Time to put her out of her misery. Two bullets should do it, and then he could be on his way.
Rivka’s eyes focused on something behind Damien and she began screaming, “Ari! Ari!”
“That’s an old trick,” Damien said. “Sorry, Miss Meyers, you lose.” He raised his gun and thumbed the safety off. “Say your prayers.”
* * *
Ari
Fear drove Ari like a madman. By the time he reached the lower city, he had made up some of the distance, but still Baruch led him by ten paces. They burst into a small square. Ari’s blood froze in his chest. Just as Hana had said, Rivka lay on the ground. Damien stood over her.
She tried to rise. Damien slammed a fist into her chest. She collapsed in the dirt. Then she caught sight of Ari, and foolishly began screaming his name.
Damien raised his gun and pointed it at her face.
Too far away to stop him, Ari veered sharply to his right and played the only card he had left.
“Damien!” he bellowed.
Chapter 29
Damien
“DAMIEN!” ROARED A FAMILIAR VOICE.
Damien’s head whipped around. Ari Kazan.
Instantly, Damien recalculated his situation. Ari was thirty yards away, and not even running directly at him. Coward. But his presence changed nothing. A couple of bullets for Rivka, then a couple for Ari. After that, follow the Romans and load a fresh clip on the way.
No problem.
Damien turned back to Rivka.
Something slammed into him from behind and riveted onto his back.
Damien staggered to one side. The gun flew from his hand.
The thing on his back pummeled him in the face.
Damien twisted, threw a glance over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of...the queer—Ari’s boyfriend!
Damien jabbed his fist over his shoulder into his attacker’s face.
The queer hollered, relaxed his grip.
Damien stutter-stepped backward, still throwing punches over his shoulders.
His attacker let go and jumped off.
Though off balance, Damien immediately spun around and kicked straight out. His foot made only a glancing impact on the queer’s thigh. Bad timing. Damien stepped back, caught his balance, and waited, sizing up his opponent—who also waited.
Time for the kill. Damien feinted twice, then stepped forward—
A bundle of fury cannoned into him from behind.
Damien fell to the dirt with a monster atop him.
Ari Kazan. Wild with rage.
* * *
Rivka
Riv
ka could think of only one thing. The gun! Get the gun!
She rolled away from the fighting men and stumbled to her feet. Where was it?
There! Against the wall.
Rivka ran to the gun, scooped it up. This was Dr. West’s only weapon against Paul. Without it, he was defeated.
Filthy gun!
She pointed it at the dust and pulled the trigger.
It made a small popping sound, but it kicked very hard.
She gripped it with both hands and fired again. And again. Every bullet fired was a bullet that could not kill Paul. After she had fired ten times, the next squeeze of the trigger produced only a click.
Empty! She yanked the clip out and pounded on it with the butt of the gun until it bent. Then she field-stripped the weapon, laid it all out on a flat stone, picked up a rock half the size of her head, and dropped it onto the slide.
There! Nobody would ever fire this gun again.
She looked back at the men.
Dr. West lay on his back in the dirt.
Ari sat on Dr. West’s belly, pounding his face.
Baruch leapt in the air and stomped down hard on Dr. West’s right hand.
Dr. West screamed.
Hadn’t they hurt him enough? Without the gun, he was powerless. Rivka strode over and shouted into Ari’s right ear.
“Ari!”
He stopped hitting Dr. West and looked up at her.
“I’ve disabled the gun,” she said. “He can’t do anything now.”
Baruch said, “We must tie him—”
Dr. West’s left hand snaked out, grabbed Rivka’s ankle, and jerked her feet out from under her.
For an instant, Rivka felt herself in a strange, weightless free-fall. Then her shoulders slammed into the ground. An instant later, her head thunked against dirt and the world went dark.
* * *
Ari
The sound of Rivka’s head hitting the ground thudded through Ari’s skull. She lay very still.
Ari jumped off Damien’s chest and knelt beside her. “Rivka!” She seemed unconscious. HaShem, help us! Frantic, Ari looked up.
Damien was staggering to his feet.
Baruch threw a flurry of punches at him with both hands.
Damien somehow parried the attack with his left arm only, his right hanging limp at his side.
“Brother Ari!” Baruch said. “Is Sister Rivka hurt?”
“Yes, very badly.”
Baruch seemed to lose all interest in fighting.
Damien backed several paces away from them both, then turned and ran.
Baruch stared at Rivka. “She is not moving.”
Ari put his hand on her chest. The slow beat of her heart pulsed into his soul. “Blessed be HaShem, she is alive.”
The gun lay nearby. Ari picked up the slide and stared at it. Ruined!
“What is that?” Baruch asked.
“It is a weapon from my country,” Ari said. “The thing Hana saw in her vision, which throws fire. Rivka broke it.”
“That was foolish,” Baruch said. “We could have used it against the evil man.”
Ari nodded. “At least he cannot use it against us. Without it, he is like other men.”
“He is not like any man I ever saw before,” Baruch said.
Ari stuffed the parts of the gun into his belt. “We must help Rivka. And the hour grows late. She and I must return to our own country.” He checked the time. Well after 1 P.M.
“She must not be moved,” Baruch said.
“If we can take her to my country, we have doctors with power to heal her.”
“Only HaShem has the power to heal,” Baruch said.
“Sister Rivka!” shouted a woman’s voice.
Ari looked up. Hana and Miryam ran toward them.
“What happened?” Miryam asked.
“Thank HaShem, thank HaShem, the truth-tellers lied to me,” Hana said. “The bad man did not kill her.”
“She is hurt,” Ari said. “Help me.” He knelt down and began gathering her into his arms.
“What are you going to do?” Miryam asked.
Ari straightened his back and grunted. Rivka was a small woman, less than fifty kilos. Still, it was awkward to lift her, especially since any move might cause more damage. He slowly stood to his feet.
“What are you going to do?” Miryam asked again.
Ari shrugged. There was only one thing he could do. Rivka needed medical attention at once. And the wormhole might close forever in a couple of hours. “I am going to carry her back to my own country.”
* * *
Dov
The phone in Damien’s lab rang. Dov picked it up on the first ring. It was Jessica’s cousin, the lawyer calling from the Supreme Court building.
“They have made their decision,” she said. “The wormhole must close at three in the afternoon to honor Shabbat.”
Dov’s heart skipped a beat. “No exceptions for health? Pikuach nephesh?”
“Only if their lives are in danger. Otherwise, no exceptions.”
“Thank you for calling,” Dov said. He hung up.
The physics department had allowed only a single television crew into the laboratory, along with several print reporters, Ari’s family, a few physicists, and a dozen representatives of the Haredim. The camera crew moved in on Dov now.
“What is the news from the Supreme Court?” the reporter asked in English.
Dov responded in Hebrew, so that his countrymen would be first to know. “The wormhole will close at three in the afternoon to honor Shabbat.”
Cheers erupted around the room. Foolish Haredim. Like most secular Israelis, Dov hated them all.
When the shouting died down, the reporter asked, “Could you repeat your answer in English, Mr. Lifshutz?”
Dov did. He looked at the large clock that the department chairman had hung on the wall. Two-thirty. Half an hour to go.
Hurry, Ari! Hurry, Rivka! Curses on you, Professor West!
* * *
Ari
By the time they reached the cave, Ari felt exhausted and sick at heart. Baruch had been praying the whole time, with little effect. Rivka had stirred twice, but still showed no signs of consciousness. The second time, she had vomited.
The stink of it filled Ari’s nostrils, but he would not stop to allow Hana to wash Rivka. He had not much time left. He stole a look at his watch. Almost three. That would put them very close to the deadline, if there was one. Had Dov managed an extension?
Inside the cave, Ari let Baruch hold Rivka so he could use his phone. As he pulled it out of his pocket, he heard Baruch and Miryam and Hana praying loudly, fervently. He stepped into the wormhole and speed-dialed Dov’s number.
It rang only once.
“Hallo, this is Dov. Is that you, Ari?”
“This is Ari. What’s the latest news?”
Shouts broke out in the background. The sound of cheering.
“Ari, you almost missed the deadline! We have less than a minute. Are you both well?”
“I am, but Rivka is badly hurt.”
“Quickly, Ari! Is her life in danger?”
What kind of a question was that? “Yes, I would say that is an accurate—”
“Wait, Ari!”
Ari heard a thump over the line, the sound of a phone being slammed on a table.
“Are you there, Dov?”
No answer.
In the background, Ari could hear Dov shouting for someone to call a doctor. Then he said in what seemed an almost-triumphant voice, “Miss Meyers is in mortal danger! By order of the Israeli Supreme Court, the wormhole must remain powered up until she and Ari have come safely through. Stand back from the device, please!”
There followed noises that could only be described as disgruntled. Ari wondered what that was all about. While he waited, he stepped out of the wormhole to look at his friends.
The sight caused him to drop his phone in the dirt.
* * *
Damien
He went to his duffel bag and rummaged around until he found some painkiller tablets. He swallowed two, then wrapped up his damaged right hand as best he could.
That finished, he gathered his belongings and walked out the door. If Ari and the queer came looking for him, they wouldn’t find him here, because he wasn’t coming back.
An hour later, he had found a new room in the northwestern corner of the city. He paid in gold, and the owner was only too happy to personally bring a clay jar of cold water to his room and set it beside the one-legged stone table.
Damien sat down at the table and plunged his arm into the water. The cold would help bring the swelling down.
After soaking his arm for twenty minutes, he reached into his duffel bag and pulled out his backup gun: a classic Colt .45—simple, beautiful, powerful. He found it awkward to clean the gun with one hand, but he managed the job. He held the piece up in his left hand, sighting down the barrel.
Two years ago, he had qualified as a marksman with his left hand—not as good as his expert marksman rating right-handed, but good enough for this job.
“Scarlett O’Hara had it right, after all,” he said aloud, enjoying the sound of his own voice in the quiet room.
“Tomorrow really is another day.”
Chapter 30
Ari
ARI STARED AT HIS FRIENDS in disbelief. Baruch slowly lowered Rivka into a standing position. Hana leapt in the air, a huge smile on her face. Miryam said, “Praise the God of our fathers!”
Transgression Page 26
