Temple: The Prophecy of the Hidden Treasure (Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries Book 7)

by Bill Thompson

  As I told that pastor, there's no doubt about his making a documentary, she thought to herself. She could see his mounting enthusiasm with every step they took. Whether on this abbreviated trip or another one someday soon, he would discover something interesting and show this magical, holy land to the millions of viewers who avidly followed Brian Sadler's adventures.

  She had no idea then how quickly – and how terrifyingly – he'd fulfill that prediction.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The tension was palpable as Brian and Nicole walked along King David Street back to the hotel. People still strolled arm in arm, laughed over a glass of wine and a cigarette, and took dogs for walks. But in just two days, things had changed discernibly. There was a nervousness in the air that was exacerbated by soldiers standing on every corner, keeping a vigilant watch with automatic rifles cradled in their arms.

  At the hotel, he called Abdel and asked him to join them for lunch tomorrow. He couldn't come, but advised he had been going to call Brian later today. "Would you like to see something far more exciting than the chalice? Would you like to see a vast hoard of relics that will make your heart jump when you consider its beauty and historical significance?"

  "Absolutely," Brian replied eagerly. "Tell me more!"

  "Read Isaiah 45:3 and call me back."

  He described the call to Nicole. When they were in the hotel lobby, he pulled up the King James version of the Bible on his phone and read the verse out loud. "And I will give thee the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that thou mayest know that I, the Lord, which call thee by thy name, am the God of Israel."

  Oh, my God, Nicole thought to herself, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Here he goes again. "We're leaving Saturday, sweetie, really early. That's two days from now. There's no time –"

  "Maybe he can show me today." He was already returning Abdel's call.

  "Put it on speaker," she demanded. She didn’t intend to sit alone in their room while he trotted off somewhere in the boondocks. "I want to hear the conversation."

  "I read the verse," he said when Malouf answered.

  "Are you intrigued, Mr. Sadler? Do you want to see the treasures of darkness that God spoke about?"

  "Yes, but we leave first thing Saturday and I promised Nicole we'd visit more sites in the time we have left."

  "Then a visit may not be possible. It is in a cave some distance from Jerusalem. It will require a few hours' travel by car. I have been in the area before, and I assure you that you will be safe with me if you choose to amend your plans and stay to see it. You will also be amazed beyond your imagination."

  "Why me? Why are you willing to show it to me?"

  His answer was convincing. "I have followed your career in the antiquities field. There are few of us with the credentials you and I have. You were also a worthy opponent in our little bidding war last Tuesday evening. You deserve the opportunity to see it. Maybe someday the public will learn of its existence, but perhaps not. It could be your only chance to visit a truly unique place."

  "When would we go?"

  "Tomorrow, Allah willing, or perhaps another day. It will take time to make the arrangements and it is not for me to say when we go. It is possible you could make your flight on Saturday, but I won't know that until I make a call."

  "Let me talk to Nicole," Brian said. "Set up the trip and call me back."

  He disconnected and turned to her. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity –"

  She interrupted him with more ferocity than he'd seen in all the years they'd known each other. "Of course it is! It’s always like this with you. You can't resist, can you? It doesn't matter that this whole damned country is about to be attacked by every Arab nation on the planet. It doesn't matter that the vice president of the United States was assassinated here two days ago. You don't even care that I'm in danger too. All that matters now is that some Arab you hardly know threw you a bone and you're salivating all over yourself to find out what the secret is."

  "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

  As soon as they were out he knew those insensitive words had been a mistake.

  She jumped up and thrust her face directly into his. "As dangerous as Israel is right now, you're willing to go with this stranger somewhere that's a few hours away. He won’t tell you where it is. You could even be going to another country. Let's see. Which one of the vacation spots on Israel's border will it be? Syria, Lebanon, Jordan or Egypt? Pick your poison. Every single one is pissed at Israel – and America too – but it'll all be okay because brave Brian Sadler wants to go see some treasure. Well, darling, I wish you well. I can't stop you from being an idiot. How many times have we done this? I give up. I'm going home tomorrow. I'm not going to London – I'm going home. It's no fun going somewhere I love without you. Put me on the quickest connection to Dallas, and as usual I'll see you when you're finished playing Indiana Jones."

  "I'm sorry –"

  Her face was red with anger. "Don't you dare say that to me! You're not sorry! You're so excited you're about to piss in your pants. I know you. Don't you understand that by now? It doesn't matter what I say."

  "Yes, it does. You're my wife. If you say don't go –"

  "If I say don't go, then for the rest of my life I'll be the one who stopped you from seeing Abdel's damned treasure of a lifetime. You may never mention it, but the resentment will always be there, seething just beneath the surface."

  "That's not true, Nicole. I don't have to do this."

  Sighing deeply, she took his hands. Her voice softened and a tear ran down one cheek. "Yes, you do. I love your spirit and your enthusiasm. I guess God's taken care of you all this time, but I'm not sure why. So far, no matter how bad things have gotten, you've managed to come back to me. You're in God's country now and you want to see His treasures. I get it, Brian. I'll never fully understand it, but I get it. The excitement you feel is part of who you are and I love every bit of you. I just get tired of saying the same thing over and over. Come home, Brian. Don't leave me."

  "Just one or two days. I promise."

  "You also have to promise to keep Harry informed about your whereabouts.” Brian's close relationship with the US president had helped him in the past.

  He said he would. Abdel called shortly and advised the trip was set for Friday morning and he’d provide details later.

  He knew what her answer would be but he had to ask anyway. “Since the trip’s on Friday, you could wait until Saturday and fly to London with me like we’d planned.”

  She gave him an incredulous look and shook her head. “I’m out of here as soon as possible.”

  He booked a seat for the next morning on a Delta flight from Tel Aviv to JFK, where she would transfer to American for the rest of her trip. She'd leave the hotel at 4 a.m. and be home in Dallas tomorrow night.

  "Ready for bed?" he said, turning out the light.

  "Yeah, since one of us has an early wake-up call."

  "I'll go to the airport with you."

  "It's over an hour each way. You don't need to go with me and waste all that time. Just go see your damned treasure on Friday and come home."

  Their lovemaking was slow and deliberate at first, but it became frenzied and wild toward the end. Steamy and sweaty, she clung tightly to him as if it would stave off the worry that was flooding her mind. Then he held her in his arms until he felt the measured breathing that meant she was asleep.

  He loved this woman more than anything and wouldn't ever hurt her. She understands me, he reasoned, using her own words to convince himself that the chance to see something like this overruled the danger that might exist. She's okay with this, he said over and over until he fell asleep himself, hoping by repetition to make it true but knowing deep inside that it wasn't.

  She lay next to him, pretending to be asleep but angry at herself for wanting to make love instead of withholding sex to punish him. Every time they were at this point – when he was preparing to go on another
adventure – his adrenalin levels shot through the roof. His voice and actions always gave away his growing excitement. Other things grew too – his passion for adventure also affected his testosterone. The thought of another exciting trip stimulated him so thoroughly and completely that their lovemaking was a huge turn-on for her too. The sex was never better, more intense, more innovative and more thrilling than when he was about to head off into parts unknown.

  I'm sending him totally opposite signals from what I should be. My own sexual desire is helping fuel his enthusiasm for something I desperately wish he wouldn't do, she admitted to herself. Then she rolled over toward him, ran her hand down his chest and shuffled down under the covers. Within minutes they were both passionate, then exhausted and satisfied, contentedly falling asleep at last in each other's arms.

  Outside the hotel at 4 a.m., he kissed Nicole goodbye as she entered the limo to go to Ben Gurion Airport. She hugged him, but she didn't hide things this time. Her words were brief and cool. "Come home, Brian. Just come home," she said as she closed the door. She turned and waved through the back glass as the car pulled out of the David Citadel's porte cochere.

  Upstairs, he tried to go back to sleep, but he was too excited. He searched the Internet for Isaiah 45, reading the passage in several versions, each of which described things slightly differently. He found the words hidden treasure, riches stored in secret places, concealed wealth, treasures from dark places and hidden stockpiles.

  The verse in Isaiah was also cross-referenced to Matthew 13:44 in the New Testament. It was one of Jesus's parables and it spoke of treasure hidden in a field, found by someone and then reburied. He located an interpretation and read that Jesus was supposedly discussing the value of the kingdom of Heaven, a treasure of unspeakable worth. But was it truly a parable, or was Jesus describing a real hidden treasure?

  A treasure of unspeakable worth. Hidden treasure stored in a secret place. A hidden stockpile from before the time of Jesus. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm.

  Nicole texted him just after seven to say she had boarded. Half an hour later she texted again to say the doors were closed and they were ready to depart.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He wrote that he loved her too and would see her Saturday. He clicked on a tracking app and followed the plane as it taxied to the runway and left for New York at 7:58 a.m.

  Once he knew she was really gone, he felt an overwhelming, immense feeling of regret, as though he had deliberately shuttled her off so he could satisfy his own desires. He tried to rationalize his staying behind. She was his wife and she understood his needs. She had vigorously and willingly made love with him last night, just like always. She wasn't mad or worried or angry.

  But part of him – the rational part – kept invading Brian's mind with the truth. He was forcing her to do all the giving in this relationship. But I am a good partner, he told himself, all the while knowing he wasn't, since her only issue with him was his indifference to his own safety.

  As soon as I'm back home ... he promised himself, just like so many times before.

  Abdel called around noon. "I will be in the lobby at six a.m. You will be back by three, Allah willing."

  "What should I bring?"

  "It will be quite warm outside, but it will be cool in the cave. Dress accordingly."

  Brian booked the same itinerary for Saturday as Nicole’s today, then he walked to lunch at the nearby outdoor café where he and Nicole had shared wine several times over the past week. He checked the progress of her flight, thinking how lonely it was without her. The Delta plane to New York was already halfway across the Atlantic.

  At 5 p.m. his time, ten a.m. in DC, he placed a call and heard a familiar voice.

  "Cynthia Beal," said the president's longtime personal assistant and most trusted aide. She had been a huge help to Nicole in planning their wedding at the White House, and the three of them had become good friends.

  "Good morning. It's Brian Sadler."

  "Hi, Brian. How are you and Nicole?"

  "We're fine, thanks. Are you doing well?"

  "As well as can be with all that's going on. What a tragedy about the vice president. You guys were with him the night before, weren't you?"

  "Yes, briefly. What a great man – he'll be missed. It's really crazy here with all that's happening."

  "You're still in Jerusalem? Why are you still there? I can't imagine how worried Nicole must be with everything going on."

  "She left this morning and she's on the way home as we speak. I was here for an antiquities auction and I'm staying another couple of days to meet with a dealer who wants to show me some relics. That's what I was calling Harry about. Nicole made me promise to let him know what I was doing, but I can only imagine how much he has going on and I shouldn't waste his time. Just tell him I'm going with Abdel Malouf early tomorrow morning to a location he's keeping to himself. He says it's a cave that has some artifacts. It has something to do with Isaiah 45:3. Tell Harry I'm just following my wife's orders and checking in!"

  She laughed. "I'll drop your message in his inbox. And have you checked in with the embassy? If not, I'll let them know your whereabouts."

  Brian hadn't and said he would appreciate her doing that, even though he didn't think he would need any assistance from the ambassador's staff. It never hurt to keep in touch, he agreed.

  When the president returned to the Oval Office later that morning, she told him about Brian's call. They had last spoken shortly after the bombing and he didn't realize Brian was still in Israel. The message surprised him and he called his scheduling assistant.

  "I need half an hour ASAP with Stan Kendrick and Bob Cruickshank over at Langley. Tell them it's about Abdel Malouf." Two hours later the CIA boss and his Mossad chief were sitting in the Oval Office.

  "With everything going on in Israel, I'm sorry to pull you away," the president began, "but I think we have something to consider. Stan, you know Brian Sadler, but, Bob, I'm not sure you do."

  He nodded. "Yes, sir. I know him by reputation. Mr. Sadler's pretty famous."

  Like millions of other armchair adventurers, Cruickshank knew quite a bit about Brian. His gallery, Bijan Rarities, had locations in Dallas, New Orleans and London, and his clients included some of the world's wealthiest people. The documentaries Brian had hosted for History and Discovery were devoured by people like him who loved the way Brian could weave an intriguing story around fascinating objects that had been hidden for centuries. Cruickshank also knew Brian Sadler had been the president's best friend since their college days and that Harrison had served recently as his best man.

  "He's in Jerusalem," Harry said, to Cruickshank's surprise. "It was a coincidence – he was there with his wife to attend an auction. They had drinks with Don Case the night before the bombing. Earlier I asked Brian to have a chat with Abdel Malouf before he leaves Israel. He knows the guy as a colleague and they were bidders at an auction the same evening Don was murdered."

  He continued. "Sounds like Brian did better than I'd hoped. He left a message a little while ago. Tomorrow morning Malouf is taking him to a secret location a few hours from Jerusalem to see something. That'll give Brian time to feel him out."

  Kendrick asked, "What are they going to see?"

  "Brian says it's some relics. And Brian says Abdel asked him to read Isaiah 45:3 before they went."

  Cruickshank raised his eyebrows. "Isaiah 45:3? Now that is interesting. Do you think Mr. Sadler or Abdel Malouf know what it means?"

  Harry was surprised. He'd intended to ask them to find out about it, but it was obvious that the Mossad desk chief already knew. "I looked up the verse after Brian told me, but I didn't get much from it. What do you think it means?"

  "Well, sir, there have always been rumors in Israel about hidden treasure that used to be in the Second Temple thousands of years ago. Many scholars believe Isaiah 45 isn't a parable – it's a reference to real treasure."

  "Interesting," Harry
commented. "This changes things. I originally asked you here to see what else we can find out about Abdel Malouf. I don't want Brian getting into something way over his head. The threat of war and his bullheadedness is bad enough. I want to know anything you can dig up about Malouf and ties to AQS."

  He paused and then said, "And you might as well dig into Isaiah 45:3 while you're at it. Let me know if you find out anything pertinent."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The ringing of his phone jarred Brian out of a deep sleep. He fumbled for the nightstand and grabbed it on the fourth ring, just before it would have gone to voicemail.

  "Yeah?" he slurred, glancing at the bedside clock. It was 3:30 a.m.

  "I know it's the middle of the night there," Harry said. "Do you know what's happened?" His serious tone and clipped words brought Brian fully alert.

  "No. What's going on?"

  "The airport in Tel Aviv was destroyed two hours ago. Nicole left yesterday – is that right?"

  "Yes." He mentally calculated the time difference. "She went to New York and changed planes. She should be in Dallas in a couple of hours. Thanks for asking about her."

  "We believe they deliberately planned the attack for today because it's the Sabbath. The terminal building was destroyed, and so were three planes from European cities that were docked there. Early estimates are maybe four hundred people dead, but that'll rise, I'm sure. Israelis, Americans, Europeans – lots of nationalities were there, like always in Israel. Since it happened about 1:15 a.m., the casualties were less than if it had been in the daytime, but there are flights in and out of Tel Aviv all night long. The place never shuts down."

  "All that loss of life – it's tragic, Harry. What kind of bomb was it?"

  "It wasn't a bomb. It was a Bulgaria Airlines Airbus 320 flown by a pilot and copilot who had been with the company for several years. The plane left Sofia with 158 passengers on its usual biweekly run to Tel Aviv. There was nothing unusual until it was on final approach. At the last minute, it pulled up and rammed the terminal. It looks like no one on board survived."