The Last Day (64 page)

“We could not rule that out,” Lazzlo admitted. “The consensus at the Defense Ministry, however, was that the projectile was intentionally created to resemble a meteorite in its composition as a means of disguising its true, design. Nevertheless, we've been unable to discover any traces of a cannon or other delivery system that would explain the phenomenon better than the meteorite theory. When we determined that the Negev explosion was, at worst, a random attack and not an invasion, we changed the focus of our concern.

“In light of the subject matter of the experiments, Shaul Tamin was desperate to prevent a leak. His priority became damage control. At the time, we believed all physical evidence and any compromising records had been destroyed in the explosion. All the scientists involved were dead—with the exception of Mrs. Leveque and a few lower-level lab assistants who knew little and were easily intimidated into silence.

“Everything appeared so neatly contained, and then suddenly you broke with that survivor story. At first, Tamin resisted the idea that one of the test subjects might have escaped the blast. But later, when your Japanese witnesses positively identified Jeza as the survivor, he had no choice but to take action.

“Tamin viewed Jeza's survival as both a liability and an opportunity. While she posed a threat as living proof of his experiments, she also presented Tamin with the prospects of recovering the priceless Leveque microchips she carried inside her. The last chips of their kind in existence. Their value for medical applications, alone, was astronomical—military uses notwithstanding. Tamin intended to recover them, whatever it took.

“And then came your bombshell. Your
True Origins of the New Messiah
telecast. Tamin was furious! As you know, WNN continues to bear the consequences of airing
that
story.”

“We've had our suspicions,” Hunter acknowledged, sarcastically.

Lazzlo nodded contritely and moved onward. “After your report, the microchips were considered secondary. Tamin was desperate for his political survival and simply wanted Jeza out of the way. But of course, by that time she'd become too much an international icon.

“As you know, Tamin's outrageous proposal to take Jeza into ‘protective custody’ was a disaster, causing demonstrations all over Israel and the world. The Ben-Miriam government was coming under intense political pressure from many influential Jews, both here and abroad, who subscribed to the belief of Jeza as Messiah. The numbers in the Knesset Calling for Tamin's resignation were rising and Tamin's political base was dwindling.

“And then, miraculously, it looked as if our problems had vanished. Jeza fled the country and the threat appeared to be subsiding. The respite was short-lived, of course. After her fearful pronouncement at the second Mormon convocation, the flood of millenarian extremists began anew. Radicals on both sides of the Jeza issue poured into Jerusalem, anticipating the return of Jeza and/or Christ, and the fulfillment of the Judgment Day prophecies.

“Israel was hemorrhaging again. I and another in the high command decided to take drastic steps to defuse the nightmare Tamin had brought down upon our country. Covertly, we leaked the Leveque diary to the Vatican in the hopes that the unholy truth about Jeza's microchip implants and secret military entanglements would discredit her to the world. Yet with her incredible performance at the Vatican, she was able to easily defeat our tactics.

“And then suddenly, with Israel already stretched beyond its limits, Jeza reappeared in Jerusalem. The IDF could not hope to deal with the emergency for long, despite assistance from many international agencies, including the U.N. We knew something decisive had to be done. The attitude became, ‘Jeza or Israel.’ We could no longer coexist.”

Feldman saw an apparent contradiction. “I don't understand. Then why, when Jeza returned, did you provide her with such protection? With all the fierce, anti-Jeza sentiment that had developed by that time, I should think Tamin and Goene would have opted to simply step back and let the Gogs destroy her. Instead, you surrounded the Old City with troops and protected her.”

“The situation was much more complicated than that,” Lazzlo explained. “For one thing, if we hadn't taken action to control the opposing factions, the resulting civil war would have ravaged the Holy City and every sacred shrine within it. Religiously and politically, the IDF couldn't allow that to happen. But more importantly, we couldn't afford to have any
Israeli
involved in a violent act against Jeza. Our tiny nation could never survive the world repercussions. So, while Tamin concluded that Jeza had to be eliminated, the liquidation had to come from a politically acceptable source.”

Feldman's stomach soured at the image of the cold, calculating mentality behind this scheme. But his desire to know the entire truth overrode his revulsion.

“The solution arrived at,” Lazzlo continued, “was to position the IDF as champions of peace. The IDF would protect the prophetess and begin separating the two warring factions, to the best of its abilities. But the idea was to be
selective
in protecting Jeza.

“The IDF would defend the Messiah from any and all sects that might pose political problems for Israel should Jeza come to harm at their hands. Meanwhile, the IDF—specifically, my former Department of Intelligence Operations—would identify the sects and conspiracies that best fit our purposes. Ideally, those with Arabic origins. Once we selected the appropriate conspiracies, it was simply a matter of allowing one to succeed. Indeed, there were many ingenious plots uncovered.”

“I assume that's why you were so accommodating in allowing Jeza's Good Friday sermon—to facilitate an assassination attempt?”

“Exactly,” Lazzlo admitted. “Even to the point of providing a blast shield and an evacuation helicopter so it would appear we had done everything reasonable to protect the Messiah. Good-faith efforts to reduce any internal or international recriminations.”

“You knew”—Feldman was restraining himself, but the veins in his neck betrayed his anger—”that a professional sniper would have no problem striking Jeza when she finally emerged from behind the screen. That's why you were so careful to keep the media off the stage and to clear the rooftops for him.”

“And to enlist you and Mr. Hunter as witnesses,” Lazzlo added.

Feldman was stunned at this revelation. “We were a part of the plot?” he blurted out, incredulously.

The shame in Lazzlo's face was apparent. “We went to the additional length of having the assassin furnished with a WNN jacket so you couldn't possibly miss him. We knew when and at what gate he would be entering the Old City. When he presented his falsified credentials, he was informed that it was mandatory that he wear a media identification jacket and we supplied him with one of WNN's. He was even escorted to his position directly in front of you to ensure he'd be completely conspicuous.”

“So the gunman was a Muslim Gog?” Feldman wanted to know.

“No,” Lazzlo said “Although at first we were concentrating on several Arab extremist groups, in the final analysis, we settled on a Mafia operation.”

“Mafia?” Feldman was puzzled.

“Yes. One of the plots we uncovered had direct Mafia ties. Probably a reprisal for Jeza's Secret Archives revelations about the Vatican-Finia C.C. scandal. At any rate, the Mafia's scheme proved simpler and more ingenious than any of the others. The camera-rifle was perfect. And we were able to assemble an extensive file on the sniper—a man with a record of success and a reputation for sharpshooting accuracy. His MO was always to fire several rounds to the upper torso in rapid succession, resulting in fatal wounds to the heart and lungs. That was perfect for our purposes because, of course, Tamin and Goene did not want the neurochips damaged, if at all possible.”

“And you wanted us to witness, if not record, all of this so that the gunman could be arrested, identified and convicted,” Feldman concluded for Lazzlo. “With an obvious trail and documented Mafia ties, the IDF would be entirely in the clear.”

“Precisely. Security personnel were positioned to arrest the assassin in short order. We had all his escape routes cut off. However, you nearly upset our plan single-handedly, Mr. Feldman. No one anticipated your inhuman leaping abilities. If that first shot had not been perfect—”

Lazzlo paused and his face clouded as darkly as those of his companions.

Feldman had heard enough. Not bothering to mask his anguish and disgust, he rose stiffly to his feet. “I'd like to see Jeza, one last time,” he requested.

“Certainly,” Lazzlo allowed. “But I must caution you, we do not have much time. Immediately afterward, if you will bear with me, we have just a few more things of some importance to discuss.”

Feldman agreed.

“While I make arrangements for your visit,” Lazzlo said, “perhaps you'd care to see the Catholic cardinal?”

“Litti?” Feldman's face lightened slightly. “Yes, please.”

Awaiting Feldman and Hunter in a room in another wing was a reasonably composed Cardinal Alphonse Litti. Feldman felt a surge of warmth in seeing him again.

Looking tired, but maintaining control, the cardinal hugged Feldman like a long-lost sibling. Despite the pain, Feldman accepted the embrace without complaint.

“Jon, thank God! It's so good to see your face. But you're hurt.”

“It looks a lot worse than it really is, Alphonse,” Feldman replied. “It's good to see you again, too.”

Litti repeated the ceremony with Hunter, who affectionately patted the cardinal's back.

“Things have turned out quite differently than any of us would have anticipated, haven't they, my friends?” Litti said as he offered chairs to his visitors, holding his precarious emotions in check. “Quite frankly, I just never thought God would allow this to happen to Her.”

“I know, Alphonse,” Feldman responded, admiring the clergyman's brave front. “It just doesn't seem possible that she's gone.”

They were all three quiet for a moment, pursuing their independent memories.

“Of course.” Litti sighed. “She knew this was to be, all along.”

Feldman looked at him.

“She prophesied this many times,” he continued. “Only I misunderstood. I saw things from an entirely incorrect perspective, the way
I
wanted to see them. How very presumptuous of me. Such befalls him who dares anticipate the mysterious ways of the Lord!”

Hunter reacted to this, breaking a long silence. “It certainly looked to me like she was aware of what was coming. It was as if she knew that gun was waiting for her and just walked right into it.”

“Yes,” Litti agreed. “And of course in retrospect it's all very clear. She never intimated a joyful ending to her journey.”

Feldman dropped his head and his voice. “Alphonse, was she—was it—quick?”

The cardinal clasped Feldman's good hand in both of his and squeezed it gently. His face took on the cast of a man at peace with his vision of God. In a hushed voice he said, “It was very quick. She was dying as She fell into our arms. She lay there quietly, so incredibly beautiful. So brave, and so noble.”

Litti shut his eyes and tilted his head heavenward in spiritual transport. “She simply closed Her eyes and the life left Her. I could actually feel it. As if a great weight were lifted from Her. There was a trace of a smile on Her lips, I thought, and She was gone.”

He paused for a long period and then opened his eyes. They were tearful.

Feldman's jaw was taut, his eyes seeing into the past. “And then the Israelis came to your aid?”

Litti nodded. “The Israelis were wonderful. They came right up and took Her from me and rushed us both into the helicopter and flew us directly here. The Messiah was in the emergency room in a matter of minutes. But of course it was too late.”

“Alphonse?” Feldman had one more thing he must know. “Right before the end, as she stood there, she whispered something. Do you recall what her last words were?”

The cardinal looked thoughtful. “I can't say, Jon. In fact, I don't actually recall Her saying anything after She left the podium.”

Feldman nodded, disappointed. “Where is she now, Alphonse?”

“She's still here, Jon. They have Her in a separate vault in the morgue. There's some question as to the release of the body and who holds claim. They're attempting to contact Mrs. Leveque, I understand. I was afraid they'd try to conduct an autopsy. Fortunately, Jewish law makes that very difficult, although in murder investigations they generally can receive permission from the rabbinical court. But I have no intention of allowing such a desecration. I've demanded temporary custody through tomorrow morning.”

Feldman knitted his brow. “Why tomorrow morning, Cardinal?”

Litti stared at Feldman as if the newsman were from another planet. “Jon!” he chided. “Tomorrow morning, Jeza will be restored to us. It's Easter Sunday. The Resurrection! You must have faith!”

Feldman squinted hard at the clergyman and nodded again. Lazzlo appeared at the door. Standing, Feldman bent toward the cardinal and compassionately gripped his arm. “Alphonse, I'd like to pay my respects to Jeza now. Would you please excuse us for a short while?”

Litti looked searchingly into his friend's eyes. “When you see Her, you will know. You must believe, Jon. You must believe!”

As they left, Feldman turned to Hunter and they exchanged sighs.

Proceeding at a respectfully slow pace, Commander Lazzlo led Hunter and the struggling Feldman along a corridor to a service elevator guarded by armed security personnel. Lazzlo pressed the last button for the lowest level of the hospital.

As they descended, Feldman stared at the officer, a concern rising in his mind. “I presume the plan was to retrieve the neurochips under the guise of an autopsy?”

“Yes.”

Feldman swallowed hard and asked, “Has that been completed yet?”

“No,” Lazzlo answered. “I've defied Tamin and Goene and blocked the postmortem, which is why we have little time left. They consider me in mutiny. An armored division is on its way as we speak.”

Exiting the elevator past a row of guards, traveling through several corridors past still more guards, they turned into a large morgue filled with columns of small metal doors along two facing walls.