Rachael finished reading the file and sat back absorbing what she had read. How wonderful the words of YHWH! What a different perspective this offered on the Messiah. As a daughter of a Christian mother and Jewish father, she had insight into the struggle that many Jewish people had concerning the Christian Messiah. For so long, Christianity had tried to distance itself from the Hebraic context of the Scripture. She understood that part of this stemmed from the persecution of early messianic believers by the Jewish rabbinic authority, but unfortunately, early Christianity had often gone to the other extreme. They embraced many pagan practices that were abhorrent to Torah-observant Jews and condemned by the Old Testament. When a Christian came preaching a messianic message wrapped in the clothing of ancient paganism, many Jewish people turned away in disgust.
By contrast, what Rachael had just read described a Jewish Messiah fulfilling a prophecy given to Jewish people and understood from a Jewish perspective of time. Praise be to YAH, Rachael thought reverently.
Rachael saved Zane’s file to her desktop and then printed it. She was going to share this with her father. He had rejected the Messiah not because he did not believe in a Messiah, but because he didn’t see the promised Messiah in Yeshua of Nazareth. What she had here was a picture of the Messiah her father just might understand.
Rachael walked to her father’s study and knocked softly before she entered. Jacob Neumann sat at his desk, a book opened in front of him. His glasses perched slightly forward on his nose, he smiled his welcome as Rachael entered. “Hello, my dear. What can I do for you?”
“Abba, would you read Zane’s research paper on the prophecy of Daniel and tell me what you think? He believes he’s found a connection between the inscription we found in Capernaum and the prophecy of Daniel’s seventy weeks. I think he has something here, and I would like your opinion on it.”
Rachael handed over the papers she had printed. Jacob Neumann reached for them with a curious look on his face. “You mean to tell me Zane believes there is a connection between the code we found in the Hebrew words and the prophecy of Daniel concerning the Messiah?”
“Yes, Dad, that’s what he believes he has found.”
Jacob, now with skeptical curiosity, replied, “Sure, I’d like to read what young Mr. Harrison has to say about a Jewish Messiah.” Setting the papers aside, he asked, “Anything else I can do for you right now?”
Rachael smiled. “No, Dad, that’s all I wanted.”
She turned to leave when her father’s voice asked, “What time are you having dinner with Mr. Harrison tonight?”
“Six-thirty . . . he said he was going to pick me up at six.”
“Very well, then. Let me know before you leave, will you?” Jacob turned back to his book as Rachael left the study.
Later that afternoon, Jacob Neumann picked up Zane’s research paper and began reading. He had read Christian explanations of their Jewish Messiah Jesus, but they had always seemed foreign to him. More Gentile than Jew. And yet, unlike many of his friends and associates, he did not share an animosity toward Jesus. His wife had seen to that. Her gentle love combined with her unfailing faith had given him a perspective on Jesus that many did not have.
Jacob read through Zane’s brief introduction concerning the prophecy of Daniel and the current generally accepted Christian interpretations. As he continued to read, he was surprised to find that Zane Harrison, instead of confirming the Christian consensus, seemed to be undermining it with clear contextual arguments based on the chronology of the Old Testament. So far, Zane had made a compelling argument why not to believe Yeshua had fulfilled the prophecy of seventy weeks. Then he had summarized a biblical understanding of time in relation to the biblical festivals as given by YHWH to Moses.
As Jacob read Zane’s explanation of the list of Matthew and its relationship to the prophecy of Daniel’s seventy weeks, his hand began to tremble. He saw the symbolism of fourteen and the sacrifices commanded by YHWH through Moses. He saw the symbolism of the countdown from thirteen to seven in the Feast of Tabernacles. As a historian and an archeologist, he knew the historical Jesus, based on a reasonable interpretation of the evidence, was born in 3–4 BC, and his public ministry as described in the New Testament likely began thirty years later in 26 or 27 AD and ended in 30 AD. What he now read was as if blinders were being taken off his eyes.
Jacob opened the bottom drawer of his desk and rustled through the papers there. Finally finding what he was looking for, he pulled out an old document he had prepared many years ago. It was the listing of the priestly courses as given in the Old Testament.
As he looked at the list, tears came into his eyes. With eyes that could barely see, Jacob Neumann walked around his desk and looked up at the large drawing on his wall opposite his desk—the drawing he had commissioned to a talented Israeli artist several years ago, based on years of Jacob’s own research. It was a drawing of the Second Temple as it looked in the days of Yeshua. As he looked up at the drawing, new tears forming in his eyes, he whispered, “You were right, Constance, my love. You were right.”
Jacob Neumann got down on his knees, and with a broken and contrite heart, acknowledged Yeshua ha’Mashiach as the Son of YHWH, redeemer of Israel and mankind.
Chapter 83
The Persian Gulf
Darius Zarindast was smiling as the roar of the single outboard Yamaha engine propelled his boat across the Persian Gulf. Every now and then he would feel a little ocean spray on his face as the boat hit larger swells with a smack. Darius felt liberated and partly avenged. He knew he was causing irreparable damage to those he had sworn vengeance on so many years ago. He looked at his watch and then at his portable GPS navigation system. He’d left Dubai a little over two hours ago. To the west, he could see Abu Musa, the twelve-kilometer island administered by Iran, in the distance. The island was just over the halfway point to his destination.
He could see the outline of some of the massive oil and natural-gas tankers in the distance. So far he had not encountered any other boat traffic. In another two hours he would reach his destination, and he would be safe. The Order would not be able to reach him in an Iran ruled by his brother. Laughing, Darius thought he was probably the least of their concerns right now. In two more days, his machines would start producing the 235X toxin in the major financial centers in the world. He had purposely not wanted to kill the people in those cities until after the world financial markets crashed. He’d wanted to build the pressure on the system gradually so that when people started to die, it would be the final blow—forever ending the Western financial dominance over the world.
Darius gloated. If they thought things were rough in the financial world today, just wait until a week from now. By that time they wouldn’t be worrying about their money any longer; they would be worrying about their lives.
* * *
Anton Ramirez slept the entire flight from Dubai to New Delhi. In New Delhi, he caught the earliest flight back to Israel he could find. As he waited in New Delhi, he watched the world news. The leading story was the epidemic in Dubai. The world watched the pictures of death and mayhem in horror. The WHO and the American CDC had teams en route to Dubai to try to figure out what was killing the people. They were already seeking out all those who had left Dubai in the last twenty-four hours and quarantining them as a precaution. Anton was thankful for the fake passport he had used to book his flight from Dubai. For the flight to Tel Aviv he had used a second passport, so he doubted they would be able to find him.
The news out of Dubai had really shaken the financial markets as well. The news showed the Asian markets had closed down over fifteen percent. US markets had just opened, and they were down six percent already. He could see the fear in some of the financial commentators’ faces. From what he gathered, they were not sure why the markets were down so much even with the horrible events of Dubai factored in.
Anton did take notice when one of the reporters mentioned that some people believed the crash in t
he world markets was tied to Aquarius Elemental Solutions, which was based in Dubai. Anton, like most citizens in the Western world, had taken Darius Zarindast up on the private placement of AQES stock. He had not only purchased his private placement shares, but had also invested another fifty thousand pounds of his personal investment account in the stock as well. In just a few months, he had tripled his money.
As the newscaster showed the price of AQES, Anton Ramirez just about broke the arm of his chair in the airport lounge. AQES, as of Chicago open, had dropped to ten dollars a share.
“What the . . .!” Anton shouted angrily. His AQES shares, which as of last week had been worth over one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand pounds, were now worth only five thousand. The news showed pictures of black columns of smoke rising over the AES factory in Dubai. Anton pounded the arm of his chair in uncontrolled rage. He would like to get his hands on the owner of AES. He would take his lost pounds out of his hide, so help him. He would make him pay.
Anton checked in with Sir Peter. He had been given a new name to add to his list of laundry to clean: the Mossad agent, Marcus Nayat. Marcus was no longer a valuable asset, and he knew too much to be allowed to live. Anton looked at the other three pictures on his computer screen and saw the faces of Rachael Neumann, Jacob Neumann, and Zane Harrison.
Anton was in a foul mood. Not only was he dirty, tired, and jet-lagged, but he was a hundred-and-forty-five-thousand pounds poorer than when he had started this operation. He wanted to get back to England and chill out for a few days. He had been moving nonstop since the Capernaum operation, leaving a path of death and destruction behind him as he destroyed any record of the secret. All he had to do was eliminate four more people and he would be able to take a break and get some rest. He could feel the rage building inside. The sooner he eliminated the people on his list and destroyed their evidence, the better.
Anton looked at this watch and calculated Israel time. It would be seven-thirty p.m. when he landed in Tel Aviv. If he left directly for the Neumann house, he might get there by eight-thirty or nine. They would likely be home by then, and he would take care of them right away. Once the Mossad found out they were dead, he knew Marcus Nayat would be around shortly thereafter. He would wait and follow Mr. Nayat and then eliminate him as well. After that he would track down Mr. Harrison and finish the job!
Chapter 84
Elated, Darius could see the coastline now. He had made the one-hundred-sixty-kilometer journey from Dubai to the coast of Iran in just under four hours.
His destination was a little used road between Gasheh and Bandar-e-Shenas on an uninhabited section of the coast just south of the Bandar Lengeh Airport. The road was half a kilometer off Highway 96 and just a kilometer from the airport. Hopefully, Arash would have someone there to meet him.
He slowed the boat down as he neared landfall. He could feel the oppressive heat in the air. Darius beached the motorboat in the shallow surf and waded ashore. A few hundred feet from the beach, an official-looking car was parked. As Darius approached, the car door opened and his brother Arash stepped out of the passenger side and walked toward him.
“Welcome to Iran, my brother,” Arash said with a smile, his arms outstretched.
Darius embraced his brother and smiled. “It is good to see you again, my brother. Much has happened since we last parted.”
“Yes, much has happened. Come, brother, let us out of this infernal heat. I have a plane waiting at Bandar Lengeh.”
As they walked back to the car, Arash handed him a bottle of water. “Thank you, brother, it is hot out here.” Darius drank the entire bottle. Its cool wetness felt good going down, and he immediately felt revived.
As they entered the car, Arash gave Darius a searching, speculative look. The driver started the car immediately when the door closed and drove them back to the airport. Arash, still looking at Darius, said, “We will talk more, brother, when we get on the plane. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
When they reached the airport, the driver drove straight to the plane which stood ready on the tarmac. As they got out of the car, Arash gave the driver instructions to return and destroy the boat.
As soon as they sat down inside the plane, it began to move. The plane was a new Falcon 900 jet built by Dassault. Darius settled back and looked over at Arash. “Traveling in style, I see. I hope you sold all your shares of AQES. Last time I checked it was below one hundred dollars.”
Arash looked at his brother with cold blue eyes and replied, “Brother, it closed in Chicago at just over ten dollars a share.”
Darius smiled broadly. “That is going to bankrupt them, Arash. They will never recover from what we have done.” Darius looked over at his brother again. Arash didn’t seem to share his elation. He shrugged—some people were harder to please than others. Since it didn’t appear that Arash was disposed to talk right now, Darius reclined his chair and closed his eyes to rest.
Some time later, Darius opened his eyes as he felt and heard the handcuffs being placed around his wrists. Darius looked up in shock into the cold, hard eyes of his brother, who had just finished securing his arms to the chair.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
With undisguised hate, Arash replied, “I have waited forty years for this opportunity, Darius. I have no further use for you. Enjoy what little time you have left. You are going to watch me save the world. I have already made a bargain with several world leaders, and they have allowed me to keep all of the wealth you have transferred here, as well as the money you supposedly left for our people. In exchange, I will give them control over the elemental separators. Your plan has failed, and I will step into your shoes as the new savior of the world.”
Darius was stunned. His mind could hardly accept the betrayal. When he finally found his voice, he asked, “So what are you going to do with me, Arash? Are you going to kill me, keep me in a dungeon, or let one of your minions do the dirty work?”
Arash smiled with contempt. “Brother, you have already killed yourself.”
Darius looked at his brother without comprehension. “I am sitting right here talking to you, so clearly I did not kill myself, Arash.”
His laughter tinged with a touch of insanity, his brother replied, “Let me just say you have gotten a taste of your very own medicine.”
Darius’s face filled with horror and comprehension. “235X?”
“Yes, Darius, by your own hand you have ensured your death. The bottle of water you drank when we met was poisoned with your toxin. You will live just long enough to watch me destroy your cherished plan and take credit for saving millions of lives. Frankly, brother, if you hadn’t been so obsessed with your quest for the secret of the 13th Enumeration, I would have let your plan succeed. But they had discovered—or were very close to discovering—you were behind these events, and I knew you would eventually lead them to us. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I would have killed you anyway—but your plan would have succeeded where now you will watch it fail.”
Darius had recovered some of his nerve by now, and he gave Arash a baleful look of contempt. “Arash, you will always be a bastard, no matter what your position in life. You have not defeated me. On the contrary, you have only ensured my success.”
Surprised at his brother’s defiance, Arash swung a vicious blow to Darius’s head.
Chapter 85
Tel Aviv, Israel
It was early afternoon, and Zane Harrison sat in David’s hotel room and worked on an outline for a book on the prophecy of seventy weeks. David had left a note before leaving for Mossad headquarters. Zane’s excitement grew as he read the fascinating information David had discovered.
Zane sat back. He was hungry and needed a break. Picking up the remote from the desk where he worked, he turned on the TV and looked for an English news station. He found Fox News and turned up the volume. The leading report was about the pandemic in Dubai. Reports out of Dubai had death toll estimates as high as one-hundred-thousand people. Many more th
ousands were sick and dying. The news reports also showed the destroyed Aquarius Elemental Solutions factory in Dubai. Destruction of the AES factory may have been the catalyst for the crash of world financial markets, according to the newscaster. There were a lot of people really hurting right about now. He felt sorrow for the loss of life in Dubai.
Zane whistled softly as they showed the stock price of AQES at ten dollars a share. He was thankful he had taken Sam’s advice and sold his shares. The last had been sold several weeks ago; his money was now parked in cash. Frankly, he did not yet know what he was going to do with it.
Zane watched several more cycles and then turned it off. The news, today especially, was depressing. He walked over to the kitchenette and looked in the little refrigerator. He saw nothing remotely like healthy food, so he slipped on his shoes and walked down to the hotel restaurant for a snack.
Two hours later, Zane was getting ready for dinner with Rachael. He was a little nervous and a lot excited. He was developing feelings for Rachael, and he thought he might have some hope of the same in her. Zane took a shower and dressed casually. He had asked the hotel restaurant waiter if he knew of a nice place to eat in Jerusalem. The waiter recommended the Canela Restaurant in downtown Jerusalem. Zane looked it up on the Internet and found it was just off Yafo Street on Shlomtsiyon HaMalka Street. It looked like it was only a ten-minute drive from Rachael’s house. Zane left at four-thirty p.m. just to ensure he would not be late to pick her up at six. The last thing he wanted was to be late for his first formal date with Rachael.
As he drove, he worried a little about his choice of restaurant. He didn’t know anything about restaurants in Jerusalem, and even less about what Rachael liked to eat. Why didn’t he ask her where she would like to go? No, that was kind of cheesy—a guy was supposed to impress his date with good taste and judgment. Well, he just hoped he didn’t crash and burn on his first date.
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