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

by Bill Thompson

  He paused a moment as he recalled something Harry had said. "I have a question. All this concern for me is purely because of the chance that war's going to break out – right? You're not saying I'm in danger if I go back with him, right? Abdel’s as far from a terrorist –"

  "Listen to me! Who knows what Abdel really is? I certainly don't – neither do you. Nobody else in Washington or Tel Aviv does either. The Mossad has no record of any recent contact between him and al Qaeda, nor has he been back to Syria in years, but you're never a former jihadist. If you're in, you're in for life. Tariq the Hawk makes sure of that. If Abdel was AQS, he was likely a low-level operative twenty years ago. I wouldn't send you into danger on purpose, but I can't promise you anything. Is Abdel a direct threat? Our intel indicates not, but we don't rely a hundred percent on anything we hear from the Middle East. Just being in Israel today is risky. It's a hotbed of seething anger ringed by hostile neighbors."

  "Point taken," Brian responded, again trying to be positive. "A minute ago, you mentioned there were two things I need to know. What's the other one?"

  "I can't say much; everything's evolving as we speak and the details are top secret. Your greatest danger isn't Abdel – it’s war. Israel's on the very brink – you must see evidence of it every time you step outside. Security is at the highest threat level. Its Arab neighbors – Jordan, Syria, Lebanon and Egypt – are staging troops, and Israel's countering with forces of its own. I believe Shigon's the perfect man for PM at this point. He won't back down from conflict. I really don't think he'll start something, but he'll damned sure respond if someone else does."

  "I saw troop buildups the other day when we were driving near the Jordanian border. The tanks and missile launchers are everywhere on both sides."

  "I'm sure you noticed more fighter jets in the skies. Those aren't just Israel's – they're also ours. Listen to me, Brian. The one thing that's critical is your safety. I urge you to leave today. I'm advising you, friend to friend and as your president, that you must get out while you can. Let the embassy arrange a driver to take you to one of the smaller airports right now. You can fly to Europe and be in London by tonight. If you insist on staying in Israel, I can't guarantee when – or even if – you'll come home. I don't want that on my conscience. With one phone call I could have you detained and deported. But I won't do it that way because you're my friend. Don't push your luck. You have no idea how close to war they are and when it could start. Just come home."

  Just come home. The exact words Nicole had said when he put her in a sedan to the airport.

  "Thanks, Harry. I'll be careful and I'll leave as soon as I can."

  The president sighed. "Dammit, you're as stubborn as you've always been. Stay safe, my friend. Keep in touch with the embassy and give them your whereabouts. And good luck."

  Harry hung up and so did Stan Kendrick, who was sitting across the desk. He had asked the CIA director to listen in and give his assessment of the conversation. He wished he could have told Brian someone else was on the line, but these were difficult times. His friend was on the fringe of a very dangerous situation. He'd tried to tell Brian that, but he knew Brian would do things his way.

  "Having him followed yesterday was a smart move," Kendrick said. "I wish they could have seen exactly where he and Abdel went, but our guys were close enough to make sure he stayed out of trouble."

  Two junior attachés from the embassy who were really CIA agents had followed Mohammed's Land Rover through Jericho and up to a spot near the Sea of Galilee. From a vantage point a half mile away, the men watched Mohammed enter the Beth Shean Archaeological Park and take a road that skirted the ancient city. They lost sight of the car but soon saw it again, parked on a distant hill above the ruins. Through binoculars they watched the two passengers walk away as the driver waited. Afraid of being spotted, they didn't attempt to get closer. They had stayed in place until the men returned and they could follow the driver back to Jerusalem.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tariq sat in his secure facility two floors below what appeared to be just one more typical bombed-out building in Edlib, Syria. His cellphone had excellent reception thanks to a booster planted on the roof, and he placed a call to one of his several al Qaeda operatives who were deep-cover moles inside Israel.

  His man Abdel was weak and untrustworthy, a person who had once been an al Qaeda leader but whose years among the infidels had given him too much peace and confidence. Tariq was certain he was one of them now. He should have been eliminated already, but he might still be of value. He was such a part of the Israeli fabric now that he wasn't on the government's radar. And he would do what Tariq ordered. Once al Qaeda, always al Qaeda. Every recruit learned that lesson well, and fear was a great motivator.

  When his cellphone rang, the caller's cold voice sent an involuntary shiver up Abdel's spine, even though he hadn't spoken with the man in years.

  "Yes, sir?" he said in his language. As they talked, the antiquities dealer tried unsuccessfully to mask his terror. His voice had shaken from the moment he answered Tariq's call. Now he sputtered responses to one staccato question after another. He was such a poor liar it was pathetic, and Tariq promised himself to deal with Abdel once and for all as soon as this issue with Brian Sadler and the treasure was wrapped up.

  "I hear you have a new friend. An American."

  "I ... I'm not sure what you mean." Abdel held the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could light a cigarette. He fumbled with the match, dropped it on the carpet, stamped it out, struck another, lit his smoke and took a deep puff. It helped to calm him a little.

  "You don't know what I mean?"

  Abdel shivered again at the man's evil voice.

  "You will answer me! Who's the man you were with yesterday?"

  "It was a dealer, Leader. Brian Sadler is his name. I outbid him in an auction the other day – the day of the bombing, in fact. He's from Texas –"

  "I know who he is, Abdel," the man interrupted. "Where did you go?"

  He was cautious because he wasn't sure what Tariq already knew. He might have been followed or maybe his driver had been paid off. It was dangerous to play games with this man; Abdel had seen the awful fate of some who tried.

  "Sir, I took him to see the ruins of an ancient city in the north."

  "In Israel?"

  "Yes, Leader, at Beth Shean. It's one of the oldest cities in the region. It dates back –"

  "Thank you for the history lesson. Why did you take him there?" he spat in sarcastic, venomous words.

  This wasn't going well. Abdel had plans for Brian Sadler and he didn't understand why Tariq seemed so interested in him. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he took another long drag and exhaled a slow stream of smoke.

  "Am I making you nervous?" the voice hissed. "I am beginning to think you are hiding something from me. Are you hiding something, Abdel?"

  He stammered a response. "Of course not, Leader. It will ... it will be good for my business to have Brian Sadler as a colleague. I thought it wise to get to know him better while he is in my country. He is famous and he knows influential people around the world."

  "Including the American president. And Israel is not 'your country,'" he shot back. "You are an Arab, but I think maybe you have lived so long among the infidels that you are becoming soft."

  Tariq stopped talking and Abdel said nothing because he could think of nothing to say.

  "Where else did you and Mr. Sadler go?"

  He knows some of it, but he doesn't know exactly what we did, Abdel realized. If he had, he would have asked about the cave. All he knows is that we went on a trip.

  "We went nowhere else, Leader. I picked him up at his hotel, took him to Beth Shean and brought him back a few hours later."

  "Do you have plans to see him again before he leaves Israel?"

  "No," Abdel lied, his hands shaking so hard he was barely able to hold the phone. "He was supposed to leave already, but until the airport reopens
, he must stay here. I don't expect to see him again."

  That was another lie. Tariq knew they were meeting tonight at Abdel's gallery. But he would deal with his deceit later.

  "How intelligent of you to extend the gesture of friendship to Mr. Sadler," Tariq spat, barely able to contain his contempt for a man who had gotten so cushy with the wretched infidels. "I have a job for you. You have not been required to help the cause for many years, but now you will serve al Qaeda once again. Your cozy relationship with your new friend will also be helpful to our cause."

  Abdel gulped. He didn't want to help al Qaeda and he didn't want Brian to end up in the middle of all this.

  "Who is the Zulqarnayn?"

  "The ... uh ... who, Leader?"

  Carrot first, stick later. "Ah, you ask who, not what, so you know something. The name is familiar to you – I can sense it in your hesitation. The Zulqarnayn is the legendary protector of the people against the wrath of the evil gods. He guards a vast hidden treasure."

  There was a long pause. "I don't believe I have heard of him, sir."

  Liar! Allah, curse this man!

  Tariq remained calm. "You're an intelligent person, Abdel. Surely you have heard of the Zulqarnayn; perhaps you have forgotten. I want to know who the present Zulqarnayn is. Find that out for me. You have twenty-four hours. I will call you tomorrow and you will tell me his name."

  Abdel was becoming more afraid and his trembling voice relayed his fear to Tariq. "Why does that legendary person even matter, Leader?" Abdel fervently hoped there was a reason besides the one that haunted his thoughts.

  "The world is aware how successfully ISIS has eradicated pagan sites such as Palmyra, Aleppo and Nimrud. I am going to strike a blow against the Jews in their homeland – a land they wrongfully claim was given to them by their God. Allah is the only God, may he be praised! I will destroy the ruins of Beth Shean right under their noses. It will be a stunning victory for ISIS and a shameful loss for the infidels. We will infiltrate under cover of darkness, detonate explosives and eradicate the ancient city just as we have done in Syria and Iraq. Why do I want the Zulqarnayn? Because he is the guardian of a vast treasure. I know where that cache is, Abdel, and the Zulqarnayn's last act will be to reveal it to me just before I execute him."

  Abdel felt as if there were a cyclone spinning inside his mind, a dizzying, terrifying blizzard of thoughts. He had no idea how a Syrian terrorist could get into Israel with enough explosives to destroy Beth Shean, but he also knew if anyone could do it, this clever man could. With the threat of war looming, Tariq might arrange a firefight or an incursion somewhere else that would divert Israeli troops and allow him to complete his mission.

  He said he knows where the treasure is! How could that be? Surely that was a bluff. But maybe it wasn't. What if the man who had showed the cave to Abdel was a jihadist himself? If Tariq really did know where the cavern was located, there was no time to lose.

  "Your silence explains much to me," Tariq taunted. "Twenty-four hours. You will give me the name in twenty-four hours."

  The call ended and Abdel pulled hard on his third cigarette. His body shook with nervous tremors and his stomach convulsed so tightly he barely made it to the toilet. He must compose himself. Everything would be fine if he just stayed calm. He could accomplish his own goal and give the leader enough to keep him at bay.

  The plans he had for Brian Sadler would have to change now. I must achieve my own goals, not those of others, he told himself. It was regretful that he would have to betray a friend, but he had always known that someday he would be told to perform a service for Allah that would be difficult. Not that ISIS was under Allah's wing, he thought bitterly. Once, perhaps, but not today. It made no difference; Abdel had made a pledge long ago, a declaration of loyalty that would only end when he was dead.

  Abdel had taken the easy road as a youth, aligning himself with others who could make life exciting and profitable for a dirt-poor Arab boy. He had been taught how to serve the cause of jihadism not as a soldier but as an infiltrator – an undercover operative hiding in the light of day. Little had been asked of him during the years he established himself as a reputable antiquities dealer in the Old City. He passed along information, did minor tasks his handler assigned him, and grew complacent when the requests for help ended. Al Qaeda wasn't a dangerous group then – at least in Abdel's opinion. It waged war against infidels, including Jews who had become Abdel's friends, but it battled even more with other Arab groups.

  He had a problem. He knew a great secret, the location of the long-lost treasure trove of the Israelites. If Tariq really knew where it was, he would surely steal the objects and melt them down into gold ingots. It was only a matter of time until they would all would be gone forever. The world would never see the things that could bring Abdel great fame and fortune.

  What was equally disturbing was Tariq's threat to destroy Beth Shean. If Syria invaded northern Israel and ISIS came in with the troops, the entire city would be razed. ISIS soldiers were masters at obliterating historic ruins wherever they invaded. As Tariq had pointed out, ISIS had plundered and destroyed many sites, some dating to the Bronze Age nearly five thousand years ago. It sickened Abdel to think what these two closely aligned jihadist groups might do at Beth Shean.

  Years ago, he had considered himself a jihadist too, when jihadists were different. Now he'd lived in the relative safety and comfort of Jerusalem for so long that terrorism was the last thing he thought about. Regardless, he owed a debt to the leader – one that could cost him his life.

  As frightening as the call had been, it had also motivated him to action. He couldn't let Tariq destroy the city and steal the treasure. Stopping him wouldn't be easy, but Abdel had always considered himself a shrewd and resourceful man. He must figure out a way to accomplish both his goals and the leader's, while staying alive in the process. That last part was the most important.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Israel's smaller airports were flooded with massive numbers of people, far more than could be accommodated in a day or even a week. Everyone was desperate to get out of this volatile country. Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv had been the country's largest. Now that it was closed, the ones at Haifa and Eilat simply couldn't handle either the human traffic or the numbers of planes needed to fly people to safety.

  Although Israel's second largest in terms of passengers, Eilat Airport was much smaller than Ben Gurion. Only two large planes at a time could dock at the terminal building, and a 757 on the taxiway couldn't maneuver around another plane parked at its gate. The airport was four hours' drive from either Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, but tourists eager to go home endured highways crammed with taxis, check-in lines that extended onto the sidewalk, and three to four hours going through security. Thousands had camped out there, afraid to miss the chance for a seat on any airline to any destination. But only a few hundred lucky ones left each day and the terminal buildings were a melee of hungry, frustrated, angry people chaperoned by squads of tired, irritable soldiers.

  Brian assured himself he couldn’t get out now, even though he knew it wasn’t true. One word from Harry would put him at the front of the queue holding a ticket for the next flight to anywhere. He could also do what he often did – charter a private jet. But he was intent on seeing this through. He was on a mission to reveal it to the world.

  During his call to Nicole last night, he told her part of what had happened on his trip with Abdel. He told her that the main airport was still closed but she knew as resourceful as her husband was, he could already have been home by now. But she said nothing. It was upsetting enough to lie in bed by herself and wonder if he’d come home. There was no need to continue bickering with a man who’d made up his mind.

  After the call, he checked in with the embassy. His contact said that the major American and Western European airlines had added several flights to Athens in response to the closure of the Tel Aviv airport. The Greek capital was just two hours away by plane and it wa
s a connecting point to the rest of the world. The embassy official advised that the American airline companies were holding one or two seats on each flight for governmental officials or dignitaries who needed to leave quickly. She offered one to Brian, but he passed for now, saying he had a day or two of business left to finish. She cautioned that the State Department was warning Americans to leave Israel, citing the increasing danger of war. He assured her he was leaving as soon as he could. She confirmed that he was still at the David Citadel Hotel and double-checked his correct phone number and email address.

  "Stay safe," were her parting words.

  "I intend to." It seemed that everyone he talked to was unusually concerned for his well-being. It wasn’t a particularly calming thought.

  Abdel was in a dilemma. This evening Brian would come to his gallery for another meeting. He had offered to arrange shipment of the Arab's most valuable pieces out of Israel. In exchange, he wanted to know everything about the cavern and the objects. He also wanted to see it again. Those were reasonable requests, but as desperately as he required Brian's help, he refused to tell him anything else right now.

  During the return trip from the site yesterday, Abdel had refused to answer question after question. He would say nothing about how or when he had found the place, who had discovered it or why he believed this trove was the same "hidden treasure" that Isaiah spoke about in the Bible. He knew Brian had been frustrated, but the time to reveal more was after he and the American had an agreement.

  Abdel had admitted taking a huge risk in showing Brian the cave. "I think at this moment it remains a secret, but others will quickly learn of its existence. Once they know what is there, they will do anything – including murdering anyone who stands in their way – to keep it for themselves. And there is a third issue. Now that we are about to go to war, Syria could gain control of northern Israel. If so, the ancient city you saw will be destroyed just as ISIS did in Palmyra. The cavern too – I have no doubt if al Qaeda – or even worse, ISIS – finds it, the priceless relics will never be seen again."