by Elik Katzav
“No,” he shakes his head. “That’s the sort of contraption they must have installed during construction. Now, I have to know what’s hidden down below.”
All of the sudden, he gets up and shakes my hand. “I shall try to keep you posted this very night in case I find the documents. In fact, I will tell you the moment I find them, not if I find them."
My laptop is beeping. It is 21:50 when Aharon’s picture appears on the voice app., and judging by the background noises, he’s in a meeting with Na’ama and Zadok, a rep from the Fraud Squad whom powers that be assigned to our case due to those suspicions of wrongdoing with the church finances. Zadok was the first to receive the complaint from Nazareth Police concerning the suspicious transactions, and it was he who forwarded the investigation to us in suspicion of cult activity at the church. In fact, he is primarily there to make sure he gets some of the credit when we close the case.
I update the team on the latest findings I gleaned in my meeting with Father Conroy. Na’ama already informed them about the previous findings.
“I understood from Na’ama that you are planning to venture into Bishop’s Palace tomorrow,” Aharon asks.
- Yeah, Sundays have been the only days during this entire month that all the priests stay at the church and do not go to work at Bishop’s Palace.
“Either way,” Aharon continues, “You remember protocol: no heroics. You do not go in on your own. You’ve got backup from the local police who are standing by, about to pounce within minutes of a call from you.”
The following morning, I receive word from Father Conroy and rush over to meet him at his offices at the church.
His office looks just like any accountant’s joint, complete with account books everywhere, receipt files on his desk and flickering PC screen with a bookkeeping program running on it. Had it not been for all those holy books on the shelves, along with the cross hanging on the wall behind him and other official church documents scattered across his desk, it could indeed have been the office of any old bookkeeper.
Father Conroy gets up to greet me, shaking my hand warmly. He seems to have spent the entire night at his desk.
He shuts the door and offers me a seat.
“So,” he says, smiling, “I knew I had the church’s blueprints somewhere at the library, and so they were, but not at the library.” He concentrates for a moment, fixing his gaze on the desk. “I recalled the plans of Bishop’s Palace were at the library,” he repeats himself, “so I spent half the night searching for them, but they were not there, at least not where they were supposed to be according to my recollection.”
Conroy lays the book across his desk and opens it in a marked page. The book itself is bound in leather and very old-looking. The pages are printed, but their edges are already yellowing.
He begins reading out loud about Bishop’s Palace for my benefit, then skips on to the bit he had marked with a piece of paper.
“Read this,” he shows me the book.
I glance the page and summarily reply.
- Latin isn’t my forté.
“Right. Sorry. I sometimes forget that not everyone speaks Latin,” he smiles.
“Here, look,” he points at the text as he translates with growing excitement. “According to this entry, they discovered a cave at the base of the church, leading to a natural tunnel. Inside, they found a black metal rock stuck in the wall, with water flowing from it; pure, fresh water, whosoever drank from had his or her strength rejuvenated. The church had these waters declared as a sort of healing waters.
“The church kept the location of this site under strict confidence, fortified the tunnel and fixed its entrance under the altar platform.
“Here,” he moves on to another paragraph. “The spring flowed for several years, but after a few droughts at the turn of the 20th century, it ran dry, and once Bishop’s Palace was abandoned, a few years after that, the secret got submerged in the church vaults.
“So now you know what’s down there!” he says, highly pleased with the information he had uncovered.
I’m still looking at the book, full of doubt concerning what Father Conroy just read to me.
- Yeah. It means there’s a cave when a spring used to flow, a spring the church claims can heal people. It still doesn’t explain the digging they are conducting down there.
“They are most likely trying to get more of those waters,” Father Conroy suggests.
- This doesn’t make sense. If that was the reason, why do they have to be digging there for months now? And why the heavy equipment? No, it’s something completely different. We’re missing something.
Chapter 5
In the evening, I put on my thin black protective vest under my black shirt and pack two magazines in my inner Jericho 941 holster. Back when I began planning my entry into Bishop’s Palace, I decided not to get there by car. It’s quite a hassle making it on foot, but it sure beats being discovered as I approach.
Na’ama is sitting at the Nazareth Police HQ, having assumed the role of liaison between the Counter Cult Squad and the local police.
The entrance to Mount Precipice was still open, with most of the visitors gone, and only a handful remaining to watch the sun set. The path down the stairs leads to a terrace field further up the the mountain. The moment I am alone, I jump over the fence and make it up the mountain itself quickly as the day is drawing to a close.
I arrive at Bishop’s Palace about half an hour later. A quick scan of the grounds reveals our goat herder isn’t here. So far, it’s as I’ve predicted. I quickly head over to the gate. The stars are the only source of light right now, in addition to several passing cars on the tunnel road below.
I hold the flashlight in my mouth to shine over the lock. Now that I have the advantage of foresight, I came with my break-in tools, so I pick it within a couple of minutes. I hang the lock on the gate and open it wide to the screeching sound of its rusty hinges. Pitch dark. According to the pictures from the finger cam, the mechanism for the secret entrance is right behind the platform, so I feel for it over the wall, pressing the bricks until I hear a sound, and the platform rises a few inches above the floor.
I push the platform aside rather easily. Someone has taken the trouble of oiling the hydraulic mechanism. When I’m done pushing, I stand up and examine the passage. Dark and quiet. I aim my flashlight to the carved staircase leading below and notice that the top stair bears the imprint of a cross.
The descent isn’t hard. It just takes bending over part of the way. It’s wide enough for two people to come down together. Those builders retained the natural structure of the cave. Aside from the stone staircase having been molded, all the walls seem to be part of the natural tunnel.
The cavern levels off after about ten stairs. It still leads down, but at a more moderate angle. It takes me another five minutes of walking to arrive inside the natural cave’s opening.
Aside from the heavy-duty equipment on one of the crates, I’m alone in the middle of this wide natural recess with a high ceiling. There’s a brick path leading to a structure built on the bedrock. It’s a sort of pool for storing the spring water. It’s dried up now, but the black stone is sticking out of the wall, protruding like the claw of some bird of prey with three fingers open. It glistens by the light of my flashlight as though it’s wet, but it is nevertheless dry to the touch, like the shard of some black crystal. The light seems to be broken off, captured inside.
As interesting as this structure is, I’mnot here for a lesson in gemology. I scan the place again and find an opening opposite the fountainhead. It isn’t wide. Upon closer inspection it seems like a recently dug tunnel.
I enter the cave, which is supported on either side by concrete columns and walls, to hold it as the diggers move further in. I can see the power lines with light bulbs all the way through.
A few hundred yards in, the tunnel di
verges into five subtunnels. Looks like the small tunnels wind upwards.
I take the middle subtunnel and rise along its course. It gets smaller and narrower by the time I reach its conclusion. End of the line. I feel the earth trembling a little. Given how close I am to Tunnel Road, this doesn’t surprise me as much as the fact that at the end of the tunnel, rather than find a lamp wired up to electric cables, there’s something that appears to be attached to an explosive charge weighing dozens of pounds at the very least. I take a picture of this device and try to send it to Na’ama, but there’s no reception down here, so deep underground. I begin to retrace my steps and make it back to the point where the five sub tunnels diverge. A quick inspection of one of the other tunnels leads to the same conclusion. A large explosive device wired to an electric system. Judging by the tremors, it’s quite near the road.
Time to leave these caverns. Out I go, directly into the natural cave. Still no reception. I run up the cave all the way to the bottom of the staircase. I’ve got reception! I dial Aharon as quick as I can as I upload the photos..
Aharon picks up. Before he gets a word in, I ask him as follows:
- Tell me, during the time he was working, did Yossef took part in the excavation works on the tunnel road beneath Mount Precipice?
Aharon pauses for a moment.
“Yes, he did take part in that construction work.”
- Then I know what they’re doin’ down here.
I immediately continue with my reply to Aharon:
- They are going to blow up the tunnel road.
I can hear the sound of vehicles and breaks screeching to a halt outside the abandoned church. I can see car lights from the passage above me.
- They’re here. They must have found out somehow that I was going in today. Gotta go.
I look for a sign on the wall, and the moment I hear the iron gate’s shriek, I press the switch and shut the floor above me.
I curse to myself and begin to run back down to the cavern. They know I’m here. I left the gate open. I utter another curse. Gotta hold them here until the rest of the police arrive. Must stay alive. I run over to the crates where they’ve stored the equipment and put them between myself and the passage as I hide behind them. I catch a glimpse of the inscription on them right before I turn my flashlight off: “Caution: explosives!”
Now that’s just swell. I’m literally hiding behind a powder keg. With a little bit o’ luck, they’ve already used it up, but in case luck is not on my side, it’s gonna get real interesting.
I keep low and quiet until I see the first flashlights shining from inside the tunnel in my direction. When they reach the passage, I shout:
- Police! You’re all under arrest!
A barrage of bullets dances on the wall behind me and hits the crates. I rise up and return fire in the direction of the shots. I hear a pained cry followed by a thump as someone hits the ground.
“Hold your fire!” I hear Father Gaynes. “There’s no need to spill another drop of the blood of the faithful. He’ll drop his gun, won’t you, David?”
- You’ve got it backwards. I’m the police. All of you, drop your weapon. You are all under arrest.
“Yes,” he replies. “And just like Jesus, I too was betrayed by my treasurer, my own Judas.”
I hear another thump as another body hits the ground next to me.
“Now, come out or we kill your friend and then kill you as well.”
The flashlights shine at the center of the cave, revealing a man crouched in a fetal position.
“You see,” Father Gaynes continues as he approaches, “we did not know how close he got, until he searched for those books yesterday. The brother in charge of the library came to see me and asked me to have them returned to the church library for Father Conroy was in need of them.
“It was at that point that I grasped the danger, how close he was getting to us, and realized he could not have done it without some help from outside; my Judas sold me out.”
He stood over the body that lay limp on the ground and kicked it. That person uttered a hushed sigh. Father Gaynes was standing there looking in my direction.
“From that point, it didn’t take long to track you. Having you followed did not take any effort, so the moment we knew you were coming here, well, we simply had to join you.
“As your luck would have it,” he continues as he begins to move further away from Father Conroy and further inside the cavern, “Our time for deliverance is right now!”
Father Gaynes raises his arms.
“Neither you nor this pathetic meddlesome ‘Father’ can stop me.”
He turns over to me once again.
“Now, throw down your weapon or I order them to shoot Father Conroy—shoot to kill.”
So, I think to myself, the Father is still alive. I then utter a quiet swear. I suppose I could shoot one or two of them, but, judging by the number of flashlights, they’ll manage to hit him before I finish them all off.
I rise behind my crate and aim at Father Gaynes.
- And what’s to prevent me from shooting you if you order them to shoot Father Conroy?
“Me?” Father Gaynes smiles, points both his scrawny arms at himself and reiterates, “Me?”
He draws nearer to me. “My dear boy, I am already redeemed; this body is but a shell. You cannot touch me anymore.”
“Now, lay down your weapon. We’ve got more things to do this evening.”
- Such as? Blow up the tunnels? Is that what’s gonna usher the Rapture in?
I’m just hopin’ the team gets here soon. I don’t think I’ll succeed in holding him and keep ’em talking for much longer.
“Certainly,” he looks at me and smiles. “These tunnels run across the center of Mount Precipice. You have desecrated a holy site with your digging just to get your cars through. Sanctity must resume.”
- And blowing this mountain up will bring ‘sanctity’ back? You’re going to kill dozens if not hundreds of people in the process!
“Ha,” he makes a dismissive gesture. “Mere background noise. Order shall be restored. That’s all that counts.”
“And now,” he turns over to his men, “Shoot him if he does not drop his gun at once.”
I lift my arms way up, bend over and place my gun on the ground.
“Very well. It’s good to see you being reasonable.”
He gets even closer to me and looks me directly in the eyes.
“Amir, come finish up the detonator and attach the explosives. We’ve got a tunnel to blow up today.
“And by the way, shoot them both.”
The exact moment he says this, as though at some planned scenario, I hear shots from the top of the tunnel, followed by loudspeakers telling the men to drop their weapons right now.
Gaynes’ men turn back. Some of them return up the cavern whereas some are watching him, waiting for instructions.
“Don’t just stand there!” he shouts, “Go watch the passage. The time of deliverance is upon us. Defend us!”
He grabs my neck quickly. He’s very strong for a man over eighty, strong enough to lift me up above the floor.
“So, I see you’ve bought some time to call for help,” his eyes are full of resentment. “It is of little consequence. You shall not get out of here alive.”
The next moment, he throws me against the wall. His eyes change right before me, turning yellowish, glowing like those of a cat.
That must be the reflection of the light against his face, I think to myself as he slams me to the ground, and I come crashing down through the wall of crates, which only absorb the blow. Finally, I hit the cave wall.
Laying on the floor, I try to catch my breath. Must be the flash of light. No such thing as yellow eyes, I reflect, and the shudder grapples me all the way down my spine.
Amir i
s sitting on the floor, busy attaching the switch to the electric wires coming all the way from inside the tunnel leading to the bombs.
Slowly, I manage to crawl towards where I was standing just now and pick my gun up. One shot hits close to Amir and makes him jump.
- The next shot is gonna hit you where it hurts unless you stop what you’re doin’ with this box!
Amir looks at me. His eyes are blank. “If you shoot me, the whole place is going to blow. True, I didn’t wire all five bombs, but the three I did will get most of the job done anyhow.”
Gulp.
I aim at Father Gaynes again. He’s standing by the empty reservoir, watching me.
“You’re at it again,” he says. “We’ve already established this body is a mere vessel. You cannot hurt me.”
- That’s what you say. I am yet to examine your claim.
I fire one shot at his leg. He seems a bit surprised when it hits him. He falls and leans against the wall, but still doesn’t let out a single cry of pain.
But how could this be? I think to myself and look for any sign he was injured, some bleeding, but when I find no trace of that, I instinctively take a step back.
What is it? Is he wearing a bulletproof vest? Can it be? No, there’s no protective vest for legs. He’s not wearing any armor. Besides, I saw him fall when I I hit him. But he just shook it off.
“Like I said, you cannot really hurt me,” he stands up again, leans back and places his hand on the black crystal, which emits a blinding flash of light as the stone fingers appear to be clasping on to his right hand.
Purple-black sparks begin to flow from the stone into his hand like purple-black lightning flashes, which then begin to run across his hands right into his body.
I’m filled with a sense of helplessness as I lower my gun. My hands refuse to raise the gun back and aim at Father Gaynes. Amir, who is closer to him, is twitching on the floor, screaming in pain and holding on to his ears, which are beginning to bleed.
