Betrayed 02 - Havoc

by Carolyn McCray

  The hotel’s grounds included over a half mile of shoreline. Besides direct access to the beach, their private courtyard featured palm trees and their very own pool in case you wanted to take a dip without getting your hair salted. Not that any of them were going swimming anytime soon.

  Although it was a slightly different experience developing a plan of attack while lying on a chaise lounge chair...with over-stuffed pillows. Rebecca could get used to it. And Bunny? Bunny didn’t seem inclined to leave their private villa anytime soon. The girl clearly needed the cold chased from her bones.

  “Back it up,” Brandt asked Davidson. “I still don’t see what the assassination of Abdullah has to do with Amed’s cave.”

  Davidson had tried to explain several times now his concerns, but it wasn’t until Rebecca got Wi-Fiaccess to read the files herself that she understood.

  “May I?” Rebecca asked Davidson, who seemed more than happy to turn over the floor to her. “I think that Petir was implying that the Disciples killed Abdullah or at least manipulated the killer.”

  “But why?” Brandt asked. “I thought it was about sabotaging the peace process.”

  “Yes,” Rebecca answered, “that is the official story, but if Petir thought it was the Disciples, I am inclined to believe him.”

  Brandt got up from his lounge chair and paced. “That still doesn’t explain why.”

  “It comes down to the Dead Sea Scrolls,” Rebecca explained. “They were unearthed during the same time period.”

  “People,” Brandt pleaded, “connect the dots. I need a location to hit.”

  Rebecca brought up a map of the Dead Sea. Long and thin, the sea not only currently provided a long border for Israel and Jordan, but historically it created a natural boundary for many other ancient civilizations. Not that Brandt would care much about that. He would care though that the Dead Sea had been a major obstacle to Moses finding the Promised Land.

  “The Dead Sea Scrolls were found a few miles inland from the Dead Sea at an ancient Jewish settlement called Khirbet Qumran between 1947 and 1956.”

  “Then why aren’t we looking over there?” Brandt demanded. Although he definitely kept to the other side of the courtyard. They hadn’t been closer than a few feet since they left Slovenia. Each keeping up their side of the “you are a married man” bargain.

  “Wait for it,” she chided, trying to overcome the awkward distance between them. He did not seem amused. “The Dead Sea Scrolls were written far after the time frame we are looking at. They were written once the Jews found the Promised Land. We need to be searching on this side of the Dead Sea because Moses more than likely would have wanted to hide the tablets before they got to the Promised Land.”

  “I’m still waiting,” Brandt grumbled.

  “Fine,” Rebecca sighed. She usually like to give a thorough historical primer before getting to the meaty stuff, but with Brandt’s vein at his neck nearly bounding out of his skin, now was not the time. “Did you know that one of the first Dead Sea scrolls discovered was called the Manual of the Disciples?”

  “What?” Brandt said as every head turned her way. Even Bunny sat up in her chair.

  “That’s right. It was later renamed the Community Scroll, however it is the only scroll known to have been altered from its original state,” Rebecca explained. “It was either cut in half, stolen, or burned, depending on which account you want to believe.”

  Slightly more patient, Brandt worked out the history. “So you are saying that within the Dead Sea Scrolls there was a section concerning the Disciples?” Off her nod he asked, “And Abdullah was connected to this how?”

  “He was a scholar, deeply invested in bringing his and even his neighbors’ history to light. In the convoluted history of the scrolls, it is even rumored that King Abdullah made a bid for them.” Rebecca looked up to find Brandt watching her. “As did the Syrian Orthodox Church. Which I don’t think that is coincidental.”

  The sergeant ground his teeth. “But how does this help us find the cave?”

  “Let’s fast-forward,” Rebecca said as she brought up another web page.

  “Yes, let’s,” Brandt encouraged.

  She noticed that Lopez, Harvish, and Davidson had pulled their chairs closer. Talli probably would have too except he was out, sitting on the top of the hotel’s tall tower, keeping them safe.

  “Jordan had possession of the scrolls for a year between 1966 and the Six-Day War in 1967 when the Israelis took over the Jordanian museum. Ever since then, Jordan has claimed that Israel has not been displaying the entire scrolls. They have even petitioned the UN to get the completed scrolls back.”

  “Great, and I really don’t mean to be a broken record here, but how does that get us closer to the Rinderpest?”

  Rebecca typed in a few more commands to bring up an old newspaper article from the 1960s. “Because shortly after the Six-Day War, Abdullah’s grandson closed down an archeological dig on the east bank of the Dead Sea, sealing it, forbidding any to dig there again.”

  “So we need to go to that site?” Brandt’s voice was filled with enthusiasm.

  “No, of course not,” Rebecca said shaking her head. This is what happened when he hurried her. “Bunny, show him the passage we translated from the new fragments.”

  The young woman read from her pages of translations. For someone from a younger generation, Bunny liked her handwritten notes. “The passage of most interest is this one...‘Yea shall you wander. Yea shall you seek. Though it is through God’s work yea shall not enter the Promised Land.’” Bunny stopped to look to the men. “If these truly are fragments of the Ten Commandments, God is foretelling Moses’s transgression in pulling water from a rock, thereby angering God and forbidding Moses to enter the Promised Land.”

  “Got it,” Brandt said. “Numbers twenty, verse eight.”

  Bunny looked up at the sergeant, surprised by his biblical knowledge. Rebecca, though, knew from experience his strong Catholic upbringing. However, his focus was on the story of Christ. Still, he could pull out some arcane knowledge when he needed to.

  “Yes, along with twenty-eleven and twenty-twelve,” Bunny confirmed. “However, this passage goes further than the biblical description. ‘Neither shall the tablets upon My finger that has touched, know milk and honey. They too are not for the Chosen but for the sea and the ages and the stretch of time.’”

  “And this is helpful how?” Brandt asked, although not quite as terse as before.

  Bunny just continued to read from the passage. “Moses shall lay to rest upon a great Mount so that he, although forbidden to enter, may eternally look down upon the Promised Land and set guard upon the Decalogue. To the place where no fisherman may fish. No hunter may hunt. A place so desolate that no man may stumble upon the shores.”

  “Clearly God wasn’t aware of the Dead Sea’s ability to attract tourists,” Harvish stated.

  Brandt shot a look to his point man. The look that said “the adults are talking now.”

  He turned to Rebecca, itching to get going. Sitting, or pacing, around a tranquil, clay-tiled courtyard frayed his nerves. Every moment they weren’t actively searching for the Rinderpest was a moment it could be released.

  “Don’t those passages just confirm what we already figured?” Brandt asked. “The tablets were buried somewhere on the east shore of the Dead Sea.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “No, not if we put everything we know together.” She looked to him to make sure he wasn’t going to cut her off. Trying to give her the leeway to sum this puppy up, Brandt leaned up against one of the lion fountains and crossed his arms. After all, he didn’t want to give her the perception she could take forever.

  “First,” Rebecca said, “we now have a stationary point to start from. Mount Nebo.”

  “Where Moses was buried?” Brandt clarified. “But it’s got a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the entire Holy Land.”

  “Yes, however, upon the western side there is a significant c
rest that would block the Promised Land, so we can assume he was buried on the northern face.” She brought up a map of Jordan. She read out all areas to the south and east. It left a rather wide slice of the country. Rebecca though cut that area nearly by three quarters, eliminating everything north of the sea. “The passage makes it clear that Moses’s resting place had to be within sightline of both the Promised Land and the Dead Sea.”

  That still left miles of coastline, but Brandt didn’t press her. Once the woman got a map out, she was usually pretty damned specific about it.

  “Then we add in Abdullah’s dig sites,” Rebecca stated as dozens of areas popped up. “Now look to where Abdullah did not dig.”

  There was a small corner of the country, right at the tip of the Dead Sea that held no sites. Not a one. Even to Brandt that seemed weird. The Holy Land was a patchwork of archeological digs. To have an entire area that large without one had to be purposeful.

  “So you think Abdullah knew where the tablets were and didn’t allow anyone to dig there?”

  “No,” Rebecca said. Sounding awfully chipper for a woman who kept shooting down every one of his theories. If they hadn’t agreed to keep a polite distance between them, he would have given her an “encouraging” hit to the arm. “We think he somehow obtained the Disciple scroll, and based on information from the papyruses, just as we are gathering information from the tablets, he conducted secret, government digs in the area.”

  “And you deduced this how?” Brandt asked, smelling genius on the horizon.

  Rebecca cocked her head, that knowing grin on her face. She pointed to an area right at the border between Jordan and Israel. “A rather funny place to put a Da’irat al-Mukhabarat al-’Ammah outpost, don’t you think?”

  Why yes, it would be odd to put a Jordanian General Intelligence Department outpost way out there. The secret police usually hid their headquarters in populated areas. Not way out on the edge of the Dead Sea.

  “And the only photo we could find of this outpost,” Rebecca said, calling it up on her screen, “shows that it was primarily built underground.”

  The hairs on Brandt’s arm stood up. The place was perfect for Amed. This supposed “outpost” would have power to run the refrigeration units the Rinderpest would need and provide great security. No one but no one in Jordan would think to disturb a General Intelligence Department office. And those within Jordan’s secret police would be the most likely to help a radical terrorist like Amed.

  He looked at Rebecca. “You really couldn’t have just led with this?”

  “Nope,” she answered with a warm grin that cooled rapidly until she ultimately looked away. Brandt missed the radiance of that smile, which was probably best.

  Time to punch the fucking clock.

  Rebecca looked out the window as the Renault Kangoo, possibly the worst-named SUV in the world, drove through the darkened streets of Jordan. Tan building after tan building passed by. While she didn’t speak Arabic, the shops were pretty clear. Clothes, grocery, photographers. Like so many other third-world countries, the paint was flaking off the buildings and the windows were smudged, some even broken. That oil money didn’t necessarily make it all the way downstream to the populace.

  The low, tired buildings stood in stark contrast to the opulence of the resort. It was hard to reconcile the two could exist in the same country. Here on the outskirts of town, dust choked the air and the dry air threatened to split your skin. They passed the last billboard, a drink advertisement with a woman in a burka. Again, so different from the resort that had predominately English signage and directions.

  As soon as they were outside the town proper, Lopez made a left off the paved road and headed out into the desert. Rocks popped and crunched under the wheels. Did the sound bother Rebecca so much because it sounded like distant gunfire, or was it just really, really annoying? It couldn’t be helped though.

  Once far enough out into the desert Lopez turned the headlights off, driving by wan moonlight and GPS. Luckily there wasn’t much more than desert and more desert this far west.

  Civilization had died away with the freeway. They passed a sign stating that they were trespassing on Jordanian government land. Talli informed them it also held a warning that anyone crossing into the area could be shot on sight.

  So what was new?

  The Dead Sea glistened under the waxing moon’s rays. So sedate. So blasé about the danger to the world. But then again, to the ancient sea what was a Rinderpest plague? How much history had that hypersaline body of water witnessed? How many deaths? How many births? Had those molecules of water witnessed Joshua burying the tablets along its shore?

  Soon the loud popping turned to a softer, grittier noise. She looked out the window. They were now traveling over the salt-encrusted shoreline. Lopez arced them north to follow the sea.

  When they’d first gotten in the SUV, Rebecca had wanted go over the dense history of the region, but Brandt had waved her off. His only words, “The die is cast.”

  So now everyone sat silent. None was under the impression this was going to be easy. Somehow the Disciples had tracked them from Russia to Slovenia. Everyone expected them to show up, as a matter of fact.

  “Is that it up ahead?” Lopez asked, leaning over the wheel, squinting as he took his foot off the gas.

  Through the dim light, Rebecca could make out a set of one-story buildings. Or was that just wishful thinking? Then a cloud passed over the moon. Once the light returned, it glimmered off a small placard next to the door.

  “General Intelligence Department. Office number five eighteen,” Talli translated.

  The SUV rolled to a stop.

  “Guess this is it...” Bunny stated into the silence. Not even Brandt moved to open his door.

  “I don’t like it,” Harvish said. Sure the place looked deserted, but that didn’t mean there weren’t either a platoon of Jordanian soldiers under the outpost or a contingent of Disciples just waiting to pick them off.

  “No shit,” Brandt snorted. However, the exchange did seem to invigorate the sergeant as he opened his door. “The only person who would like this situation would be a fucking lunatic.”

  Ah, Brandt and his inspirational speeches.

  Rebecca went to get out, but Brandt blocked the door from swinging open.

  “Not this time,” Brandt stated not all that kindly. “You, Bunny, and Davidson will stay put along with Lopez as driver.” A chorus of protests rang through the car. Brandt just held up a hand though. “And that is final.”

  “At least let me get out of the car so we can discuss—”

  “Nope,” Brandt cut in. “There could be open Rinderpest in there plus who knows what else. It is just Harvish, Talli, and me. Period.” He gave a hard look to Lopez, who shut his mouth mid-word, then to Davidson, who wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Sounds good to me,” Bunny said, leaning farther back in her seat. “I am in no rush to see what’s down there. I’m perfectly happy translating from the car.”

  Really? So much for the sisterhood and all.

  Perhaps the younger woman and the men could be dissuaded so easily, but Rebecca hadn’t come all this way to be shut out. Besides, Brandt needed her. Needed her knowledge. How far would he have gotten if not for her? And maybe Bunny a little bit, but mainly her.

  Brandt must have seen the look on her face as he leaned in. “This isn’t about the tablets anymore, Rebecca. It’s about the Rinderpest. I need you to take a backseat, literally.” He then looked to Davidson. “And I’m sure if someone would like to get back into my good graces, he will make you understand this is the only play at this stage.”

  Lopez took his hand off the driver’s door handle. “I’ve got your back.”

  “We’ll be here when you return,” Davidson assured Brandt.

  Rebecca couldn’t believe Davidson was caving so easily.

  “If I find the tablets, I will bring them back,” Brandt reassured Rebecca, then turned to Lopez. “If we aren�
��t out in five minutes, and I mean three hundred seconds, I want you to head west to Israel. Get in touch with the American consulate and get the hell out of the Middle East ASAP.” Brandt really emphasized his next words. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Fully,” Lopez answered.

  Rebecca wanted to reach out, grab Brandt’s hand. What good would it do though? She knew that set to his jaw. That tone in his voice. He would brook not argument. And what case could she make?

  She hated it when Brandt was right.

  Brandt fell in behind Talli, who fell in behind Harvish. Since there was absolutely no vantage point besides the squat outbuildings for about twenty miles, there was no sense in Talli sitting out of the insertion. Besides, they had Davidson on the perimeter. Which unfortunately made Brandt feel more secure.

  He had to get his head back into the game, though. He had to trust that between Lopez’s speed and Davidson’s accuracy they could keep Rebecca and Bunny safe.

  With purposeful speed and accuracy, the men made their way across the short distance to one of the outbuildings. In the wan moonlight, Harvish checked the door’s frame for booby traps.

  A curt shake of the point man’s head indicated there weren’t any. Or at least not any that could be found in this underilluminated environment. They just couldn’t risk turning on a light. If there were any assailants inside the building, Brandt would rather keep the element of surprise than not.

  Harvish put a hand on the doorknob. It turned easily under his palm. Brandt snapped back, far more worried. Because the GID was really going to leave even an outbuilding to their super-secret outpost unlocked. Right.

  Off his nod, Harvish jerked the door open, charging into the building. It was small and boring. Whatever had been stored here had long ago been taken away. It was basically an empty warehouse. They checked the walls and floor just to be sure. They hit the other two smaller buildings to find the same thing. A bit fat nothing.