A red heifer sacrifice was the only one slain outside the camp. It was also the only time a female animal was required for any sacrifice.
"John, why did the Teacher of Righteousness want to hide the ashes needed for cleansing?"
"He would thus control who could become ritually clean, what places could be cleansed, which implements. It would prevent the Wicked Priest he opposed from carrying out his priestly office should the need for ritual cleansing become necessary."
He gazed at her intently like she was missing something. She hadn't a clue what it might be.
"Ok."
She picked up John's notes. Because of the scroll's deteriorated condition, occasional words were omitted from the manuscript, but not enough to miss the general idea of the Teacher of Righteousness. Apparently, he'd found the current administration of the priesthood to be seriously flawed. Thus, he'd undertaken to preserve the Jewish heritage for the truly enlightened followers of righteousness. There was only one way to be cleansed from the defilement of touching a dead body. The hyssop and red heifer ash mixture. If one couldn't obtain such a mixture, they remained ceremonially unclean.
The Teacher went on to talk about Eden. He explained his steps for hiding the ash in the land of Eden, then gave explicit directions for finding it. Eastward dwelt God's garden. Its location remained hidden from those who would defile the blossom of Yahweh. The Garden of Eden was located in the place where God had placed His name.
Was there a part missing? She didn't follow the jump in his train of thought from hiding the ashes in Eden to the Garden of Eden. What she found fascinating was his claim to have hidden the ashes in the land of Eden…where he dwelt. The Essenes had lived in Qumran near the Dead Sea. The Teacher of Righteousness lived in Israel.
There it was. What she'd anticipated ever since hearing of the manuscript. Three little words saying he lived in Eden. If his descriptions of the area could be verified, it would prove he referred to Israel. More than that, it would reveal the hiding place of the last ashes of a red heifer. An intoxicating revelation. What the Jews wouldn't do to know such things.
"John, when was the last time a red heifer was found in Israel?"
"During the first century in a gentile herd. It is extremely rare. In fact, the sacrifice has only been made about seven times. The actual number is disputed. For Israel to rebuild the temple, the temple site must be cleansed. A red heifer is required. Even if a red heifer appeared, and one recently became verified by the priests, there is no way to sacrifice the animal, because the sacrifice must be carried out on clean ground. The Mount of Olives, which is "outside the camp," has been "trodden down by Gentiles." It is defiled. You cannot perform a sacrifice for cleansing on defiled ground. The priests will require ash of old.
Fascinating.
"I heard all that hullabaloo about a red heifer. Even three white or black hairs disqualify it. What you're really saying is, if they locate ash of old, there would be nothing to prevent the Jews from rebuilding the temple."
"Exactly." John seemed extremely pleased with her.
"But, John, there's a Muslim mosque on top of the temple site…seems a major obstacle to me."
"Not necessarily. I've read an account that states the exact measurements would allow both temples to co-exist beside each other."
"Would the Moslems allow such a thing?"
"If Israel relinquished enough land, the right Arab leader might be persuaded to allow it." John's eyes twinkled as he set his pen down and turned to face her. "Where do you think the Garden is located?"
"I don't know. The teacher said he lived in Eden and that the Garden was eastward in Eden. So it's somewhere to the east of Qumran, I suppose." She looked up at John expectantly.
"Perhaps," he smiled. "There are many gaps in the manuscript. One missing word would change everything, and it's written without any vowels just as the Dead Sea scroll containing the Messiah reference. The Messiah is either pierced or He does the piercing."
"What about Aaron's rod? You said that was in there. I didn't see it."
"I'm working on that now. You noticed how the Teacher seemed to drift from one thought to another. If this truly was his diary, he wrote about whatever he was thinking. There's no clear order. Why do you not examine the other documents in this room? They might shed more light on the Garden."
John always seemed to be implying more than he said. Was this his way of telling her that the answer to the whereabouts of the Garden resided in this room? Perhaps he would give her a nudge in the right direction.
"All right. Any place in particular I should start?"
John shook his head, already at work, transcribing the manuscript notes.
Natasha made her way past a bookcase. The complete works of Josephus, Dio Chrysostom, the Apocrypha, Philo Judaeus, Pliny the Elder, the Damascus Document, Hippolytus, Eusebius…books she'd always wanted to investigate. If Yaakov kept her prisoner for long, at least she wouldn't be bored.
On the next wall hung various maps of antiquity along with current maps from the Survey of Israel. Yaakov left no resource untapped. One map was formed in such a way that Jerusalem appeared to be the center of the earth. Intriguing thought. God sent His people to the center of His creation. The topographical maps would certainly be helpful in identifying where the Teacher had hidden the Jewish treasures. She'd never realized how many mountains covered Israel…how many were in Jerusalem alone.
Of particular interest was an article detailing the discovery of a fossil snake with legs, Haasiophis Terrasanctus, found in a rock quarry near Jerusalem. Maybe the Garden of Eden did have a snake with legs, until God cursed it to crawl. Genesis didn't actually say the snake had legs, but if it did…This was one of those obscure facts that pointed toward the Garden.
A guard at the door interrupted her thoughts. "You may take your daily exercise."
Natasha whirled about. A different guard. If only he would turn around…but no, his arm held no scars.
John rose, and they followed the guard outside. Natasha did her best to remember the different turns through the corridor. When the door opened, blinding light shocked her senses for a moment then the heat assailed her. It felt just like the Negev desert she'd traveled by camel with Dirk.
Where was Dirk right now? Probably shmoozing with some starlet like Jane Winslet.
John stumbled, and Natasha reached for his hand. This old man might not be as strong as she remembered him.
"John?"
"I'm fine."
His assurance did nothing to assuage her imagination, fueled by the horrors Yaakov had inflicted on the monks at their last encounter.
"Does he hurt you?" She stopped walking and looked into his eyes, fearful he might try to hide something from her.
"He has not. He still needs me." He patted her hand.
Before she could tell if he'd send her a message, the guard yelled out. "Keep moving!"
"Is it safe to talk out here, John?"
"Probably not. We'll keep our thoughts to ourselves. There will come a time."
"So…Is this your schedule every day? Wake up, sit bored, eat, sit bored, work in library, walk outside..."
"Basically. Yaakov enjoys baiting me from time to time, but I think he's not always here. He must leave to carry out his responsibilities before the world."
"Yeah, the snake. The great Palestinian dove is really a jackal. All those news media tout him as the solution to the Arab crisis and the Palestinians. It makes me sick. Sell the world a bill of goods, so he can get what he wants."
"He's always been seen as a moderate. Many hoped when he became old enough to gain power, he could resolve our current conflicts. He has hidden his true nature, and now he seduces our young people into turning on their own."
"Do you still think he seeks the Tree of Life from the Garden?"
"He's an evil man with no concept of God's holiness. He seeks to steal what he can never qualify for…eternal life. And the promise of Eden…gardens growing in our d
eserts…lures the young. Our children are tired of hearing how they should fight for the land. They're ready for peace at any cost."
"I can understand that. I've only been involved in this struggle for a couple of months, and I feel worn out. How do Israelis cope?"
"Trust. If we're in God's will, then we learn trust. Every intolerable situation will be turned for our good. Loss, even sorrow. But most Jews do not know their Savior."
"It must be difficult for you to think of all those you love who are still seeking." She faltered. Words couldn't adequately describe the struggle for life faced by most Jews. But John wasn't sad.
"That is trust again, Natasha. I pray. He cares for those I care for. They are in His hands."
The exercise area was completely enclosed with concrete, floor and walls. No grass or trees. The walls rose at least eight feet, too tall to see over. The possibility that she could break John and herself out of this place seemed remote. Every guard carried a rifle. She had nothing. Presumably, they had her dart pen somewhere, too. And with no idea of what existed outside the complex, it appeared hopeless.
They couldn't be near a city, or she would hear some type of noise. There was nothing but the wind.
"How long do they let you stay outside?"
"Usually two times around and then again in the evening. You notice there are no doors or gates to the outside."
"Do you know what's on the other side? Did you see anything when you were brought here?"
"Unfortunately, it was dark. I wasn't allowed to look around, and we landed by helicopter in this enclosed area. But Yaakov hasn't tried to hide our whereabouts from me. The Syrian desert surrounds us on all sides. He's probably telling the truth. I've seen eagles, hawks, vultures and other birds consistent with the area. Surely others will come for us?" He asked, but he didn't seem concerned.
"I hope so. I'm not sure we would be at the top of the Mossaad's priority list, if they could take out Yaakov. But I trust David Benjamin. He would do anything in his power to find us."
"And what of your young man? Would he not move heaven and earth to find you just as you did for him?"
"I don't know if that would even be a possibility. He isn't here. He's in the States. Probably too far away to get those kinds of signals from anyone." Natasha rubbed her earrings, as if that would increase their power.
The heat became uncomfortable, especially on her exposed head, and she could see why John only walked around twice. They stood, facing the door to the building, when another guard came out. They were signaled to return inside. Upon reaching the two guards, Natasha stared intently at the new man. He winked at her! She wasn't sure whether he was being impertinent or whether he was "the man inside." When she reached his side, she looked at his arm.
He had a scar down his arm!
Natasha helped John through the door, furiously pecking on his arm with her finger. Friend found.
They followed their new-found friend back to the library. Before ushering them in, he spoke in English with a clearly American accent. "Your lunch is inside." Then he strode away.
Yaakov was going after Americans now. But that man had the features of a Jewish person, prominent nose and cheekbones, dark eyes and hair. Maybe he was an American Jew. If only he'd tell her if he'd really shot and killed Anya.
Why not ask John?
They seated themselves, and John said a blessing. "Our Father, we thank you for the food and your faithfulness. Amen."
"John, there's someone I'm concerned about. Before I was brought here, I went on a practice mission. The young man that had been my target was killed later that night by Yaakov's men…to upset me. He was the brother of one of my trainers. She was sort of my bodyguard when they broke into our room. They shot her. Is she all right?"
"I am not a fortune teller, Natasha."
"But you've always known before."
"God reveals what He feels is necessary. Sometimes it is necessary to trust. Have you prayed for your friend?"
"Yes."
"That is all God expects you to do. Now, let the matter go, and let Him do what He does best. I will agree with you in prayer." He patted her hand.
How often he reassured her. She'd always thought herself a mature Christian, but these experiences were showing her areas of her life that she'd not yet relinquished to the Father.
After their lunch of fruit and goat cheese, Natasha and John worked for some time in silence. She pored over the notes concerning directions to the ashes, comparing her ideas constantly with the topographical maps of the area. John continued his slow translation of the manuscript.
After a couple of hours, Natasha grew stiff and weary. She stood and stretched. "I'm going to the restroom, John."
"Of course."
At the door of the library, Natasha found the person she most wanted to talk to…Anya's trusted friend.
"May I go to the restroom?"
He stepped back, nodding. As he followed her down the hall, she pondered. Should she say anything?
In front of the bathroom door, she paused. "Would you tell me the way out of here?"
His sardonic laugh barked at her. "You wouldn't find it if I did."
That certainly hadn't been the response she anticipated.
"Care to wager?"
The laughter disappeared from his eyes. "The stakes are too high for you, lady."
He shut the door. Natasha stood transfixed. What if his comment was a clue? He said she would never find the way out even if he told her where to look. And then he said the stakes are too high. What if he meant the way out was up high? That would really be farfetched.
She wasted as much time in the bathroom as she thought she could get away with. This was the only place she could think without someone watching her constantly. She found a comb in a small shelf and washed it then tried to comb through her long strands. When she came out, the guard didn't even look in her direction, but she'd decided to play this game her way.
"What would be a good time to break out of here?"
"You're dangerous, but attractive."
"And you're Jewish, but American.
He bowed slightly, pointing into the library. If he really was a good guy, he'd be a good person for Anya to use to make David jealous.
How could she think about that at a time like this?
Chapter 7
Natasha retrieved her notes on the topographical map in order to study the Teacher's directions again. Pointing at the map with her pencil helped her see the different steps the Teacher had taken. He started there, walked to there, and investigated this cave and this cave. Then he tried there. He was getting further and further away from the Dead Sea. Which made sense. The Dead Sea was the lowest point in the entire world. The Teacher couldn't risk moisture violating the sanctity of cleansed ashes. He also wouldn't want it anywhere the Romans would have found it.
"Right about there is where I lose you," she murmured, stabbing at the map.
She compared the current position of her pencil with the map of the Qumran caves. It was certainly in keeping with the distances already documented. All of the caves were within easy walking distance of the Qumran community.
John put down his pen and looked over at her. "I'm weary of this. Let's talk. Tell me of your family. How did you enjoy growing up on the mission fields of the world?"
"Most of the time I loved it. Visiting new places. Meeting different kinds of people. New ideas fascinated me. It was harder on my sister, Elaine. She always said, 'I want to go home.' Even when we were "in" whatever home my parents had chosen for us, she would say, 'I want to go home.' Before she agreed to marry Greg, she told him she wanted a home. If he wanted a position in life that would constantly move him from one job to the next, angling for a better position, then she wasn't the girl for him. Elaine wanted to find a place and put down roots. He agreed.
"Greg's family grew up in California. They never moved. As soon as Greg and Elaine married, they moved to California and bought property near his f
amily. Little by little, they built Elaine's dream house. Now they have three children. Elaine is completely devoted to Greg and his family, and Greg thinks Elaine is…well…beautiful, wonderful. You can see it every time they're together. The way they talk to each other…to the kids. I envy their relationship."
"Is that what you want? To put down roots and never move again?"
She wondered that herself.
"A few years ago, I would have said yes. There was even a guy…But when it came down to it, I realized what I wanted was the sense of belonging to someone, not a place. The people in my life, they're "home" for me. I'm happy when surrounded by my family…and my stuff. I always needed a few things that went with me no matter where I was." She took a deep breath and looked at the globe on the other table with Africa prominently displayed.
"Katir is completely different. He doesn't need any belongings. He doesn't need a place. He doesn't seem to need other people very much, except for my parents, and Elaine and me. He's extremely family-oriented. Makes perfect sense, too, if you think about it. His tribe in Africa was nomadic for centuries, so a place didn't have meaning for them. Staying alive was important, and they moved on when they had to, taking only what was necessary. When his family died, we adopted him. We became the only things that mattered to him…besides the Lord. He has a very strong sense of Who God is and how that relates to him. Someday, I hope he'll find a wife. But right now, I think he's too busy taking care of all of us. He helped me get my shipping business started. In fact, he's been running the whole thing while I'm gone."
The Syrian (Natasha Kelly, Mossad Spy) Page 11
