The Last Judgment (7 page)

“Do me a favor, darling, will you?” Fiona asked gently.

That broke Will's fascination with the horizon, and he looked at his wife and smiled.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Before you take on any more death-defying cases…before you get involved in something that might put you into the middle of another nest of terrorists…that might bring another attack against this house, or on our family…just do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Talk to your wife first. Talk to
me,
darling.”

Will could see something in her face. An expression he couldn't remember seeing before.

“Fiona, honey, what's the matter?”

She shook her head and turned away, trying to minimize her own undefined fears.

“Some people call it woman's intuition. I call it a discerning spirit. But whatever it's called, I've learned to listen to it. Just be careful, will you?”

Will stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He kissed her on the back of the neck and on the cheek, whispering his undying love to her.

And Fiona believed it. And she was comforted. But there still was something else—something that could not be measured or quantified. Nothing she could point to. But a chill reality swept over the surface of her skin. A foreboding…but of what, she could not begin to guess.

8

W
ARREN
M
ULLBURN WAS IN THE WORKING OFFICE
of his Caribbean palace. He could hear the approaching footsteps of his visitor echoing on the marble floor. Mr. Himlet, his personal assistant, had been cleared through security. Now he was knocking and entering the room.

Himlet was a tall, square-shouldered man wearing dark horn-rimmed glasses, with a titanium briefcase and a no-nonsense look about him. And he was bearing an urgent message.

“He's done it, sir,” Himlet said in his usual monotone voice.

“Done what?” Mullburn snapped.

“The code-breaking system.”

“The encryption code?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Quantum encryption?”

“Yes, sir.”

“This person has devised a way to break into a quantum encryption system?”

“Exactly, sir.”

Mullburn leaned back in his chair, pondering the implications of Himlet's message. Then he asked a question.

“What did you say this man's name was?”

“Putrie. Orville Putrie.”

“What kind of a name is that?” Mullburn asked sarcastically. “His parents must have wanted to torture the lad.”

“I've got a complete curriculum vitae and background check on Mr. Putrie,” Himlet said, tapping his metal briefcase. “MIT.
One of the highest entrance scores in the history of the engineering school. But he was asked to leave the school for threatening a professor. Somewhat unstable personality. Worked for a number of years as a technical operations person for a drug dealer in the barrier islands off the coast of North Carolina. He was forced to flee the authorities there—ended up in the Virgin Islands for a while, and then I met him here, on the island.”

“Is he a plant?”

“There's virtually no chance of that,” Himlet said. “I've triple-checked all of the possibilities of his being an informant. All the time since his disappearance from the United States, there have been some outstanding warrants for him. I believe we've got a tremendous amount of leverage with Mr. Putrie. But I must say that his work on quantum encryption is revolutionary…even startling, it is so brilliant.”

“At last,” Mullburn said with a smile, “I've got somebody working for me who's almost as smart as I am.”

“Yes, sir,” Himlet said matter-of-factly.

“All right. Get him to work immediately on the encryption platform for Israeli intelligence. Get him into their computers. Find out who they're looking at—you know the particular groups I'm talking about. Find out if the Israelis are targeting them.”

Himlet nodded obediently.

“Also, I read your report, Himlet, on our global alliance. Looks good. How are we doing with the merger with Petroléos Mexicanos?”

“Happened as of a few hours ago,” Himlet replied. “We're calling the newly merged parent company Aztec Petroleum. So that, I think, finalizes your control over the offshore oil exploration project for Mexico.”

“Where are we with the Russians?”

“Now that the Kremlin has taken Khodorkovsky out of the picture, I believe we are assured of capturing the Russian oil market as well.”

“Alright, now it's time to contact the Saudis. You know who to call. I want to arrange a meeting. I've kept my part of the bargain. Now it's time for them to put up or shut up.”

“I understand,” Himlet replied. But before he turned to leave he added a final comment.

“On an unrelated matter, when I was in touch with the Russian Federation on the oil issues…the official I was dealing with said he remembered you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He recalled that, about twenty years ago, he was in the audience during your chess match with Alexei Andropov.”

Mullburn smiled.

“The Russian said he remembers you putting Andropov into checkmate in thirteen moves.”

Then Himlet added one more thing. It came as close as anything he had ever said on a personal basis—as opposed to business—in his dealings with Warren Mullburn.

“If you don't mind my asking, sir, have you ever thought about getting back into chess competition?”

But the oil tycoon simply shook his head and dismissed his assistant from the room.

Warren Mullburn knew he had never retired from the game of chess. Not in any real sense.

Now, though, the chess pieces were bigger. Global corporations, parliaments, and kings.

And the squares on the board were the nation–states of the world.

9

T
HE ARCHAEOLOGICAL CONFERENCE
in Tel Aviv had been underway for several hours. But now, the panel discussion was approaching the most controversial issue of the day.

The moderator stood at a podium off to the left side of the dais. Four archaeological scholars were assembled at the table, a microphone in front of each.

The atmosphere in the hotel auditorium was electric among the several hundred Egyptologists, archaeologists, experts in ancient linguistics, theologians, and epigraphers.

The moderator was setting up the question for the panelists.

“This brings us to the sensational reports regarding the discovery of the so-called Deuteronomy Fragment. We want to address two issues. First, the very narrow question regarding the level of certainty we can have that this fragment is authentic. And then the broader question, of course—and this is the one that has probably attracted the press and media attention to this conference—that is, to what extent can we archaeologists ensure that our work achieves the highest degree of scientific credibility? And how can we ensure that we will remain free of political bias—particularly when some of our discoveries, such as the Deuteronomy Fragment, have such explosive, cataclysmic political implications?”

The moderator then called on the British scholar on the panel to respond first.

“Well, taking this artifact at face value, the Deuteronomy Fragment purports to be a missing part of the thirty-fourth chapter of the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, at the current location of verse four. Of course, textually, it changes everything. The traditional Jewish Scriptures indicate that God gives the land of Israel to the Jews through Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—but now we have this Deuteronomy Fragment, which purports to be of greater antiquity than the oldest copies of the Old Testament extant today. And its text clearly says that God gave the land to Ishmael, whom the Arabs claim as their progenitor. So we have a seismic shift—a massive theological, political, and textual change.”

“Well, and then I have my concerns,” the Swedish scholar interjected, “about the radiocarbon dating of this Deuteronomy Fragment. I have read the protocols relating to the carbon dating. Frankly, I see some anomalies—they are minor, but they are there, nevertheless. Raising questions about the antiquity of the fragment. Is it actually older than the Dead Sea Scrolls?”

That is when the Egyptian archaeologist jumped in, his voice animated, his face close to the microphone as he spoke.

“The Dead Sea Scrolls—yes—let's talk about that. No one has yet raised the issue. Can't you see? What do the scrolls tell us? In the Dead Sea version of Deuteronomy chapter 34, in the oldest monographs of the book of Deuteronomy—excluding for a moment the Deuteronomy Fragment itself—what do they show?

“That section in the Dead Sea Scrolls is
missing,
” the Egyptian continued. “Damaged beyond repair. So, we are unable to say with any certainty what the original manuscript of the Dead Sea version of Deuteronomy 34 really said. That leaves open, entirely, the possibility that this Deuteronomy Fragment may have had it right—and the traditional Jewish scriptures had it wrong.”

The moderator stepped into the discussion.

“Thank you, Doctor. All of this does raise the question—the most explosive and perhaps most intriguing question of all. The
second part of the question being posed to this panel, in this conference.”

With that, the moderator faced the panelists again and paused briefly. Then he continued.

“And that question is this—how can we ensure that our scientific work is free from political bias when the political implications of what we do, particularly here in Israel, are so omnipresent?”

Then the moderator pulled a newspaper report from the file that lay on the podium.

“By way of background, many of you may have seen this article in the
Jerusalem Post.
A similar one appeared in
Harretz
. It refers to a poll taken among Israeli citizens immediately after the publicity surrounding the discovery of the Deuteronomy Fragment. It shows a substantial shift in the minds of moderate Israelis regarding the Israeli–Palestinian peace plan. The poll indicates that the majority of Israeli moderates now favor the proposed plan that gives the Palestinians some control in East Jerusalem along the proposed borders, as their capital. Now of course, the Orthodox Jews show almost no discernible change in their position regarding that issue. But again, the moderates are retreating from many of their historical positions, in some great measure perhaps because of an archaeological discovery. So let's return to my question. How can we ensure scientific objectivity in the midst of such a highly charged political climate?”

In the back of the hall, one audience member—a Saudi national—did not wait to hear the answer. He rose quietly from the second-to-last table and slipped out.

Walking through the large lobby of the hotel, he found a quiet corner, he took out his cell phone, and punched in a number. He waited for the call to connect to his contact in Saudi Arabia.

When the phone was answered, the Saudi man began to speak excitedly.

“This is Kali. I'm calling from the conference.”

“Is it over?”

“No, they're still discussing—now, the political issues. But I waited long enough to get a good feel for the consensus.”

“And? Is it as we had hoped?”

“Yes. There are no surprises. The arguments—for and against—seem to be along the lines we anticipated.”

“Will any of those arguments destroy the vitality of the Deuteronomy Fragment…in its practical application?”

“No, definitely not,” the Saudi man answered. “The moderator just referred to the newspaper articles. The ones about the poll taken among Israeli citizens.”

“So you can say,” the man at the other end of the telephone continued, “that the Deuteronomy Fragment is still a powerful tool. Just as has been represented to us?”

“Oh yes. Very much so…” The Saudi looked around quickly to make sure he was still alone.

“Just so you understand,” the official said solemnly, “much relies on the value of the Deuteronomy Fragment to us. This weighs very heavily on our decisions.”

“Of course, I understand that. And I will stay through the rest of the conference. I'll give you another report at the end. I'm going to circulate. Speak to as many of the prominent scholars as I can. But I can tell you that, as far as the opening session is concerned, they are taking this Deuteronomy Fragment very seriously. Public sentiment here in Israel is getting very soft now, and very accommodating—you know, on the Palestinian issue, and on Jerusalem.”

After the man finished his call, he slipped his cell phone into the pocket of his robe and returned to the conference hall.

In Saudi Arabia, the official—a Saudi sheikh—hung up the phone. Then one of his assistants entered the room, announced himself, and bowed.

“Sorry to disturb you, but there is a call from an assistant of Mr. Warren Mullburn. A Mr. Himlet. He wishes to speak to you.”