The Jericho Deception: A Novel (30 page)

“You will follow me.” The look in Axe’s eyes unnerved Ethan even more. “Now!”

Axe turned and headed for the door without looking back to see if he complied. Ethan knew he had no choice but to follow.

M
ousa knocked out the twentieth pushup before his arms gave out. He collapsed on the floor, enjoying the cool feel of the tile against his stomach. His strength was returning. He’d already done thirty sit-ups—a far cry from the two hundred crunches and fifty pushups he began each morning with in Amman, but he was improving with each passing day. Many of his patients were elite athletes—football stars, tennis players—frustrated with the long recovery times from their surgeries. “Take each day as it comes,” he counseled them, “and before you know it you’ll be back to your old condition.” He now understood that giving the advice was easier than taking it.

His right knee was doing better, but he was still missing the key ligament that would allow him to pivot the leg. He’d been doing squats and wall sits to strengthen his quadriceps muscles. He could probably even jog some now, but his knee wouldn’t be able to sustain any cutting motions to the side. When he returned to Jordan, he’d have one of his colleagues do the surgery. He wished he could perform it on himself, he thought, smiling. He was the best.

The thought of home brought to mind images of his family. The hope of returning to them had sustained him through everything he’d suffered. The friendly priests had taken good care of him, but he was healthy now. Why was he still here?

A nagging thought played in the back of his mind. At first, he’d been ecstatic to leave the brutal hands of his fellow Arab torturers. But the more time he spent in the monastery, the more he felt that something wasn’t right. The
priests had a different demeanor than the imams at his mosque in Amman. They had an edge to them that didn’t seem befitting of holy men, as if they lacked that certain sense of peace that religion brought.

Maybe that’s the difference with their religion
, he thought.

One of the central teachings of Islam was that complete surrender to Allah brought a lasting and deep internal peace. The literal meaning of the word
Islam
was just that: peace that comes through surrender. The fundamentalists of his faith had it wrong. They distorted the words of the Prophet to justify harm against civilians in the name of spreading their religion. Those men would do better to look within themselves, he thought, in search of the presence of Allah within. Doing so would quiet their blood-thirst and bring them real peace. The strange occurrence in the chapel had reinforced this knowledge. He’d glimpsed the power of Allah. He couldn’t explain it, but now he better understood the mystics of his religion, the Sufis. Allah couldn’t be described, only experienced.

He wiped off his forehead with the single towel hanging by his desk. His thoughts drifted from the priests who’d cared for him to the one person who didn’t seem like the other Americans: the doctor. He was more inquisitive. He also was nervous, or maybe it was discomfort Mousa sensed.

He wondered whether he could trust Ethan Lightman. He was ready to leave this place, and his gut told him that Ethan would be the one to help him do so.

A
xe burst through the doors of the dining hall. Ethan followed close behind, his mind scrambling for excuses as to why he had been in the locked room. The hall was deserted but for Wolfe and Chris, who were talking at the center table. Wolfe stopped mid-sentence when he saw them approaching.

“I found the doctor snooping around the warehouse,” Axe said.

“I was working in the server room when I—”

Wolfe raised a hand, cutting off his explanation. “Axe, you may leave us now.”

“But—”

Wolfe flicked the hand that was still raised, as if waving away an insect. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Axe glowered at Ethan as he turned to leave. The expansive dining hall seemed to close in around him.

“So you have glimpsed the next phase of our project?”

“What are you planning on doing with my research?” He decided to forget the excuses.

“Doctor Lightman, what you don’t understand is the true potential for your work. What we have created here”—he spread his arms—“is just a prototype. The first of many.”

“You plan on building more monasteries?”

“We’ve spent billions of dollars on our military, but it remains ineffective at stopping suicide attacks. These lunatics line up to die for Allah; killing them isn’t a deterrent. For every one we kill or capture, three more are behind him
to take up the cause.” He brought his fist down on the table. “The only way we can win this war is to destroy the enemy from the inside. Islam is like a virus—a virus that can only be eradicated with a Christian vaccine. We must begin a massive reeducation campaign.”

“You’ll start a world war.” He glanced at Chris, who looked uncomfortable at Wolfe’s words. “You can’t keep all those facilities secret. Word will eventually get out, and every single Arab country will turn against us.”

“That’s the beauty of the plan.” Wolfe grinned. “When we roll out Phase Two of Project Jericho, we’ll hide in plain sight. We’re going to establish new public churches—blend in with the existing Coptic Christians who have been here for centuries—but ours will have a kick.”

“The pews?”

“Members of our congregations will have mystical experiences of God. They’ll tell their friends and families how their lives have been changed by the gospel of Christ. We won’t be able to build the churches fast enough.”

“What you’re planning is in direct violation of the Nuremberg Code.”

Ethan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everything about this plan violated the ethical principles he’d been taught since his first day of med school. What Wolfe envisioned was a massive violation of these protocols against hundreds, if not thousands, of unsuspecting subjects.

“The terrorists don’t play by our rules.”

“But our nation was founded on the principles of religious freedom and liberty. Isn’t that what makes us different?”

“If we have the means to stop these madmen, wouldn’t it be immoral not to use every method at our disposal?”

“At the expense of manipulating the brains of innocents? Over a billion people claim Islam as their religion—it’s the fastest-growing religion in the world—but the fundamentalists who embrace terrorism are only a tiny percentage of this number. Judging all of Islam by a few is like judging all of Christianity because of the Crusades or the Inquisition.”

“Sometimes we must sacrifice a few for the good of the many.”

“Isn’t that the same justification the terrorists use for exploding a bomb in a restaurant or train station where innocent women and children will be killed?”

“Those sound like Elijah’s words.” Wolfe shook his head. “He was holding you back, Ethan. My old friend was brilliant, yes”—he flashed his perfect teeth in a broad grin—“but you are more so. You can create things here with me that you never could have imagined at Yale.”

Ethan had never considered himself an idealist. He was a scientist; everything he did was supported by research and careful thought. But what Wolfe proposed caused every alarm to ring in his body. He knew then that he had to make a decision. The comparison to Elijah made his decision all the more clear. He had to choose right from wrong.

“This project is bigger than a few men.” Wolfe rose from his seat. “I have a flight to Cairo in an hour. When I return in two days, I expect the Logos to be working.” He smoothed out the wrinkles on his silver bishop’s robes. “We have a major operation coming up. I need to know whether I can count on your help.” His eyes narrowed and his voice turned icy. “I would hate for anything unfortunate to happen to you like it did with Elijah. He was at the end of his career, but you have so much promise ahead of you.”

Ethan’s gut churned. Did Wolfe just confirm the suspicion he hadn’t wanted to believe? He glanced at Chris, who refused to meet his eyes. The expression of dismay on his student’s face seemed real. Then his mind became suddenly clear, as if the thoughts and questions that had swirled about for the past several days had settled down, allowing the light of pure reason to shine forth. Wolfe had killed Elijah and now threatened to do the same to him. He had to stop this madness, even if it meant risking his life. He had created the Logos, and now he had to prevent its use.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and replied, “I have my reservations, but I’ll fix the Logos.” He managed a smile that he hoped didn’t look forced.

“I thought so.” The grin returned to Wolfe’s face.

“I’ve already spent hours going over the programming, but I’m missing something. I’ll run additional tests on the men this afternoon.”

“Chris has a new resource that may help you.” Wolfe opened the dining hall door. “Work quickly. You don’t have the luxury of time.”

The sound of the door closing echoed through the hall along with Wolfe’s lingering admission of guilt in Elijah’s death. Ethan knew that even if he fixed
the Logos, Wolfe would never let him leave. He would disappear once he’d served his usefulness. He had two days to find a way out of there. His hand slipped into his pocket, where it closed around the hard shell of the cell phone.

C
hris hurried Ethan down the corridor without speaking. He studied the creased brow of his student’s face. Chris had seemed shocked at Wolfe’s cryptic admission of the truth behind Elijah’s death.

“I’ll make him understand how important you are to the ongoing operation, but, Professor, you have to stop questioning the program.”

“He had Elijah killed, Chris.”

“I swear I didn’t know.” His voice cracked. “But what can I do?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m involved now too.”

Ethan debated his next comment. Could he trust his student? His gut told him their prior relationship had been authentic. Anyway, he had no choice; he needed Chris’s help. The electronic locks on the doors were programmed to each specific key card, and his wouldn’t let him out of the facility. Then there was the matter of the desert that surrounded them for miles.

“Is this what you signed up for?”

The grad student glanced to the floor. “No,” he whispered.

“I need your help getting out of here.”

“Getting the two of you out of here without being noticed would be difficult.” He stopped by the last door at the end of the corridor.

“Two?”

Chris turned the door handle and led Ethan into the room.

A woman sat on the bed, hunched over, with her face in her hands and her fingers entwined in her hair. The moment they entered, she jumped to her
feet, produced a three-foot-long wooden stick from under the covers, and swung it at their heads. Ethan lurched backward. Chris, however, stepped toward the woman. He ducked the arc of the stick, caught the woman’s wrist before she had a chance to bring it back into his face, and disarmed her.

Ethan locked eyes with Rachel. She stared at him with an open mouth and fiery eyes. Her hair was disheveled, as if she’d just woken up, but in a way he found alluring. In place of the form-fitting sweaters she wore around Yale, she sported a simple white T-shirt and black sweatpants. As his heart pounded from her sudden attack, a river of competing emotions washed over him: excitement at seeing her confronted an uneasy suspicion.

The questions he wanted to ask seemed to catch in his chest.
Why is she here? Is she a spook like Chris?
He’d longed to see her the past two days, but now he wasn’t even sure who she was. He thought back to how she’d been flirty with him from the beginning of the semester.
Was that part of Wolfe’s plan too?
He recalled Houston’s comment about speaking with her.
Had she been undermining him all along?
His world had begun to unravel when she’d claimed that one of her monkeys was having problems. He felt an emptiness open in his stomach.

She struggled out of Chris’s hold on her wrist and turned to face Ethan. “You are part of this?” she screamed.

“I . . .”

She turned her fury toward Chris. “And you too!” She glared at both men. “How could you?”

Chris stepped forward. “Professor Lightman didn’t even know this place existed until yesterday.”

“So you’re responsible!”

Chris recoiled as if propelled by the force of her presence. “No, I just work for the Agency part time while I’m finishing up my degree.”

“The Agency?” She looked between the men. “You mean the CIA?”

A flood of relief washed over Ethan.
She doesn’t work for Wolfe
. He reached out and touched her arm. “I’m still figuring out the same questions.”

She shrugged off his touch and, ignoring his comment, took a step toward Chris, backing him up to the wall. “The last thing I remember was getting
ready to go out when this huge man—the same one who chased me and Ethan in the library—broke into my apartment and attacked me.”

The hulking image of Wolfe’s security chief caused Ethan’s chest to tighten. “My God. Are you okay?”

“I was sure he was going to rape me.” A shiver passed down her body. “Then he paralyzed me with some drug. I was conscious but completely unable to move.” Her voice dripped with anger. “I can’t begin to tell you the terror of being carried out of the house expecting to be taken to some cellar somewhere to await whatever sick torture . . .” Her voice trailed off and she stared past the two men at the blank wall. “My head was covered in some hood so I couldn’t see anything, but I could tell that we’d arrived at the airport, and I figured he’d put me on a plane. But then he gave me another shot that knocked me out. The next thing I know I wake up in this room.” She gestured to the walls. “Wherever the hell we are.”

Ethan clenched his fists. Hearing her recount Axe’s assault caused a surge of anger to flow through his veins. He recalled the locked door to the private jet’s bedroom and realized that she’d been drugged there while he’d enjoyed the luxuries of the main cabin. The guilt of realizing that he’d been worrying about his career while she’d been in terror for her life only deepened the pit in his gut.
And to make matters worse,
he thought,
she’s only here because of my research
. The desire to embrace her and hold her was overpowering. He wanted to protect Rachel with every cell in his body, yet he wasn’t even sure how he was going to protect himself. Even if Chris agreed to help them escape, he struggled to think how they would elude the security of the place.