The Moses Legacy (33 page)

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Authors: Adam Palmer

BOOK: The Moses Legacy
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‘It says that the crossing is open till eight!' Goliath was shouting, pointing at the sign.

He was at what the Jordanians call the ‘Sheikh Hussein Crossing' between Jordan and the north of Israel.

‘You have to arrive an hour before,' the middle-aged Jordanian official was explaining.

‘But this is an emergency!' Goliath pleaded, not sure of what he would say if they asked him what he meant. ‘And it's not like there's a whole long queue. The hour before is presumably to give you time to do the paperwork.'

Friday is the Islamic day of rest and in Israel everything stops early on Friday in order to enable Jews to prepare for the Jewish day of rest which commences half an hour before sunset on Friday night and carries on until sunset the next day. It was now half past seven and the sun had just set.

‘I could let you through on this side, but the Israelis won't let you through.'

‘Can't you at least ask them? My sister is sick. I just had a call from my brother-in-law. I was visiting Petra and I was due back in a few days, but I got a call and he told me to come back. The other bridge was closed so I thought it was better to come this way. I am not even sure if she is in a hospital now because I lost my phone. All I know is—'

‘Wait a minute,' said the Jordanian official.

He walked off and spoke to a colleague. Then he walked over to the Israeli side and spoke to several of their officials. The talk seemed to last for ages. When the official finally came back he was smiling.

‘Okay. You can go through.'

‘How far are we?' asked Daniel.

‘We're nearly there. When we get to the crossing, let me do the talking.'

‘Is there likely to be a problem?' asked Daniel.

‘Strictly speaking we're too late. But leave it to me.'

Daniel noticed that Gabrielle had been strangely silent for most of the journey. It was as if Sarit's very presence bothered her. And because they were in Sarit's car, it meant that Sarit was in control.

‘There's something I don't understand,' said Daniel. ‘You said that they knew about the spores from Harrison Carmichael's translation of the
Book of the Straight
.'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, I could understand if you said,
The Book of the Wars of the Lord
. I found some references to it there. But we've just translated the
Book of the Straight
and it didn't have anything about that. It didn't even mention the plagues at all. It described a power struggle in Egypt covering the period of Joseph and his son, when the Israelites were first enslaved.'

‘Look, I'm not an expert in biblical history or anything like that,' said Sarit. ‘I can only tell you what I know from my briefing. Carmichael obtained a parchment copy, translated it after many years of effort and it was sent for peer
review. The professor delayed publication and passed on the information to the rest of his cell and they've been sitting on it because they didn't know where to look for traces of the spores.'

‘What do you mean sitting on it?'

‘Well, the manuscript described how the plague swept through the Israelites, prompting their decision to abandon the place where they were staying and cross into the land of Canaan. But it didn't say where exactly they'd been staying on the other side of the Jordan River, so the New Covenant didn't know where to look and couldn't make much use of the information. But once that dig started in Sinai, they saw a possibility. They figured that the Israelites must have been carrying the spores on their clothes even before the outbreak, because of the sixth plague that affected the Egyptians.'

‘And that's why the volunteers and the curator got ill,' said Daniel.

‘Exactly,' Sarit replied. ‘They were monitoring the dig and they got all excited when the stones were found. That implied that it was a site where the Israelites had been. Then when the kid Joel got ill, that confirmed it. From then on, they've been trying to get a sample of the spores and we've been trying to stop them. When he locked you in the cave, it wasn't you he was after, it was your spare clothes in your bags. You were merely expendable.'

Daniel was looking at Gabrielle inquisitively.

‘Gaby?'

‘
What?
'

Daniel couldn't tell if the tone was aggressive or defensive – maybe the former to cover the latter. But he noticed a single tear on one of her cheeks.

‘You kept feeding me clues.'

‘What?' Gabrielle replied.

‘When we were trying to identify the papyrus from the museum in Cairo, you suggested that if it wasn't the Aswan High Dam then it might be another public works project. That's what pointed me in the direction of the Suez Canal.'

‘But it was
you
who suggested Aswan in the first place and
you
who came up with the idea that it was the Song of the Sea.'

‘But whenever I faltered, it was always you guiding back to the right path. Before I translated
The Book of the Straight
, there was a brief moment when you handled the clay jar container and I remember it very briefly disappeared from view.'

He had been hoping –
praying
– that he was wrong. But the fleeting look of fear on Gabrielle's face was enough to tell him that he was right.

‘What are you saying, Daniel?'

‘I used to be an amateur magician when I was younger, and you also had an interest in the subject for a while.'

‘So what are you suggesting? That I magically changed the content of the papyrus?'

‘No, Gabrielle. I'm suggesting that you substituted it for a forgery.'

‘That's ridiculous! Oh, Danny, you can't possibly believe that!'

Her tone had changed. She didn't sound like a confident woman any more. That gushing, eager ‘Oh, Danny' was the way she used to talk as an overenthusiastic teenager.

‘Can't I? It wouldn't have been so difficult for someone skilled in sleight of hand to make that substitution.'

‘No, but first they'd've needed something to substitute. In order to slip in a forgery, there first has to be a forgery to substitute.'

‘After I deciphered the script, after we came to Israel, we had enough time for you to create a forgery.'

‘On an ancient papyrus?'

‘I've heard of cases where they found unused or blank ancient papyri in Egypt. With your knowledge and prestige it wouldn't have been hard for you to get hold of one. In fact, that would have given you even longer to work on the forgery.'

‘You're forgetting, Daniel, that we jumped off the boat and arrived on that Israeli gunboat wearing nothing but swimsuits. That means I'd've had to get the ancient papyrus here in Israel. And as far as I know, you don't have ancient papyri in Israel. Parchment, yes. Papyrus, no.'

Daniel thought about this for quite some time. Then he remembered. ‘The snorkel! I wondered why you needed it. And then when we jumped into the water, you had it but didn't use it. You're a competitive swimmer and if anything
I
would have needed it. I reckon it has a one-way valve and a stopper. You must have rolled up the papyrus and put it in there.'

Gabrielle smiled. ‘You're very clever, Daniel. You've got it all figured out.'

‘Look, I don't care about your seedy little academic secrets,' said Sarit. ‘What you professors get up to in your ivory towers is the least of my concerns. But that's the border crossing ahead and I need to stay focused, so I'd be grateful if you two would cool it.'

Goliath had made it into Israel and the Sea of Galilee lay ahead of him, illuminated by the light of the three-quarter moon.

Senator Morris had told him that it was the main national reservoir for the State of Israel. It had been greatly depleted over the past ten years due to drought and this was evident from the low water level and the marks around it. But that was no concern of Goliath's. The suffering of Israel meant nothing to him. Indeed he was now going to put them out of their misery.

He knew that any place in the lake was as good as any other. It was fresh water and it would bring the spores to life, producing the bacteria that would reproduce and multiply and be drunk by the Israeli population until they were all infected.

He wasn't sure if the purification process for the water would kill the bacteria but even if it did that was no matter. Fish from the lake, including the famous ‘St Peter's fish' – unique to the Sea of Galilee – were a staple to many Israelis, especially in the north.

Once in the food chain, it would spread.

So he drove to the lake. He wondered where St Peter had operated from. That would have some symbolism, he
thought. But he didn't know where that was and in any case it would be hard to find in the dark. Finally he set his sights on a point ahead where the road came closest to the lake itself.

That was where he would do it.

While Daniel and Gabrielle remained in the car, Sarit had gone into the terminal on the Jordanian side and there had been some frantic talking and gesticulating. They had signalled some people over from the Israeli side and a whole group of them were engaged in earnest conversation, dominated by Mediterranean-style gesticulation which could variously be a sign of anger, concern or just a desire to be heard.

Gabrielle sat there in tense silence. But Daniel felt betrayed. He wanted answers.

‘The only thing I don't understand is why.'

‘I'm surprised you haven't figured it out. I like the idea of cutting your ethno-religious tribe down to size.'

‘Ethno-religious tribe?' asked Daniel, aghast.

‘Your snobbish little closed shop whose members think they're the bee's knees and that you can only join by maternal inheritance. Only it's all built on myth. The descendants of a smooth-talking Syrian soldier who helped a usurper steal the Egyptian throne from his brother. His son, a murderer, adulterer and incestuous pervert who slept with his daughter and then married his granddaughter to steal the throne? So much for your holier than thou, ethno-religious club.'

‘Except that your version is an even bigger fake, isn't it?'

‘Maybe, but it fits the character of your people. I should
have known even as a kid that you'd never be interested in a
shiksa
.'

Daniel noticed the tears welling up in Gabrielle's eyes and he realized that there were things in her heart and mind that had been buried there for a long time.

‘Is that what it's all about? Some unrequited schoolgirl crush?'

‘Don't flatter yourself, Danny! Any feelings I had for you died a long time ago.'

He was tempted to remind her about her drunken behaviour a few weeks ago. But that would have been twisting the knife – something he was loath to do.

‘You were fifteen when we met. It wasn't my religion that stood in the way. Hell, I don't even
have
a religion, except in name. It was my sense of responsibility.'

‘Oh, you have such a great sense of propriety, don't you? But only on personal matters. Not on the issues that really count!'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘Do you remember when we worked together on a dig in Jerusalem two years ago?'

He looked at her, confused. ‘Yes. What about it?'

‘We didn't dig on Friday or Saturday. One Friday morning I was in an expanding Jewish suburb where building work was taking place, and there was this bulldozer and it was knocking down some olive trees that belonged to the nearby Arab village. The bulldozer was being driven by a soldier. I asked why they were doing it and someone told me that the olive trees were being used as cover for children to throw stones at cars driven by people from the Jewish neighbourhood. And there was this kid – she couldn't have been more than four or five – standing in front of the bulldozer…' The tears were welling up in her eyes again. ‘And the
bulldozer… it wouldn't stop… and I just stood there frozen… too frozen to speak… it wouldn't stop… and the girl's mother was screaming… and
I
was screaming in my mind… and it wouldn't stop…'

She broke down in hysterical tears.

Daniel moved towards her and tried to put a comforting arm around her, but she brushed him off.

‘Don't touch me! If you want to make a moral stand, make it over injustices like that instead of remaining silent!'

There were a thousand things he could say. About the injustices on the other side too. About not judging a nation by individual instances, even if they could be strung together to present a negative picture. But none of that was a valid answer to her criticism. If that child was killed in the way she said and if the driver of the bulldozer was not held to account, then a grievous wrong had been done.

Sarit returned. Ignoring Gabrielle's tearful hysterics – or at least pretending to – she got back into the car and drove it across the border into Israel.

‘I've notified the authorities in Israel and they'll be sending up flares and soldiers to look out for him. But I'd like us to keep driving around the lake in case we see him. We're the only ones who know what he looks like.'

Goliath pulled up and got out of the car. He was at the spot. He took the white linen shroud and began walking to the water's edge. There were people about, but what did it matter? They were hardly going to stop him throwing a piece of white linen into the lake.

He felt gripped by that sensation of the power that he had whenever he killed someone: that feeling of being in control. That feeling that he was doing God's work for which he would be richly rewarded, if not in this life then in the next.

He was at the water's edge. Now all he had to do was throw it.

 

About fifty yards away, Sarit had seen him. Although she couldn't make out the facial features from this distance, the height made him unmistakable. She slammed on the brakes, causing the car to skid to a halt.

She regretted this because the noise caused Goliath to turn his head and see them. But in the distance – and in the darkness – all he could see was the car, not its occupants. Her Mossad training had included shooting
through
a car window from the inside – a skill that is learned by only the most elite of fighting forces.

She had aimed for the torso, the broadest part of the body – and Goliath was a big target. So she knew she had hit him with her ‘double tap' even before he clutched his chest and staggered backwards. But Goliath was a strong man, and he was down but not out. She leapt out of the car intending to finish him off with a second shot. Gabrielle and Daniel followed her out and as she levelled the gun for the coup de grâce, Gabrielle jumped on her and tried to grab the gun, both women crashing to the ground.

Unsure of what was happening or why, Sarit threw the gun clear, giving her attacker a choice of whether to go for the gun or fight her.

Daniel saw what was happening in horror and unlike Sarit he had at least some idea of the reason.

But could Gabrielle be that mad? That far gone?

The question was answered as Sarit staggered to her feet and tried to run towards the gun. Gabrielle got up and jumped on Sarit again, this time sending the pair of them tumbling into the water where Gabrielle's advantage in size was compounded by her strength built up through competitive swimming.

Less than a second later, Gabrielle's powerful arms forced Sarit into a kneeling position and began thrusting her face under the water, choking the life out of her.

Daniel was about to intervene, but then he saw something that filled him with terror.

 

Less than fifty yards away, Goliath had rallied his strength and was now limping slowly forward once again towards the water's edge a few yards away. In a matter of seconds, he would be in a position to drop the shroud into the water and it would be the end of the State of Israel and its people: Jews and Arabs.

Daniel knew that the danger to Israel outweighed the danger to Sarit and he did the only thing he could do. He sprinted towards Goliath.

The giant turned round just in time to see Daniel closing the last few yards and although he could have thrown the shroud in the water quite easily, a sense of anger and pride prompted him to turn to Daniel instead to fight him.

Daniel threw himself on to Goliath and tried to wrestle him to the ground, but even though Goliath was wounded, he was still too strong. The giant tried to get him in one of his infamous headlocks but the one thing Daniel had going for him was that he had the inside position. This made it harder for Goliath to work his set piece.

More importantly, Daniel noticed that Goliath had dropped the shroud.

Realizing that his own life too was less important than that of a nation, he put his foot on the shroud and with a scraping motion kicked it backwards so that it was behind both of them.

 

Sarit's lungs were filling up with water and she could feel her consciousness slipping away. Her head was thrashing this way and that as she struggled to come to the surface. Somehow she managed to force her head above water long enough to take a breath, but first she had to expel the water from her lungs. She coughed and choked and sputtered, spurting out some of the water, but not all of it.

And as she drew in her breath, the strong hands and arms of Gabrielle forced her under the water yet again. This time, she managed to hold her breath and not take in any more water. But she didn't know how long she could hold out. She had been well aware, throughout this assignment, that Goliath was a dangerous adversary. But now as she felt herself
slipping into unconsciousness, she remembered that Gabrielle was a former competitive swimmer.

Think, Sarit, think!

Sarit was half a head shorter and not nearly as strong. But she
was
trained. Suddenly, all her training came back to her. Instead of her futile, feeble efforts to pull Gabrielle's hands away, she realized she needed to do an inside sweep. The problem was that she was practically kneeling and couldn't get the leverage.

Nevertheless, she clenched her fists, inserted her arms inside Gabrielle's grip and swept upward and outward with an almighty thrust. Despite the power of the move, it failed to break Gabrielle's grip, accomplishing at most a slight loosening of the assailant's fingers. But that was enough. It made Sarit realize that she had a second line of attack.

Lightning fast, she delivered a vicious punch between Gabrielle's legs. A cry of pain went up from the Austrian woman and at the same time her grip slackened. That was all the opportunity Sarit needed. In a split second, she grabbed Gabrielle's hair and pulled her head forward and downward. At the same time, forcing herself against the pressure of Gabrielle's mighty hands, she managed to lift her own head to deliver a vicious head butt, breaking the blonde's nose.

Gabrielle screamed in pain and anger, for a second time releasing her grip to clutch her broken nose. Sarit leapt to her feet and they stood there eyeball to eyeball in the shallow water. But Sarit realized that she was now in even greater danger.

Wounded animals are the most vicious.

 

Despite his best efforts Goliath was slowly gaining the upper hand. Daniel realized that any minute now, Goliath would have him in a hold that would enable him to snap his neck.
Desperate to get free, he smashed his elbow into Goliath's ribcage four or five times in rapid succession.

Already in pain from his gunshot wounds, Goliath's grip slackened and Daniel was able to push Goliath's left arm away long enough to duck out of the headlock without breaking his neck. He twisted away sharply and took a stride towards the shroud in the hope of throwing it clear even further, but Goliath twisted round too and dived at him, catching his leg and bringing him down.

Daniel twisted on to his back to free his leg, scooping up the shroud in one hand. But as he retracted his legs and tried to push himself on to his feet, Goliath rose up again and was now poised to dive on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

 

Meanwhile, Sarit had kept her cool. With Gabrielle clutching her bloody nose, she was momentarily defenceless. Sarit seized upon the opportunity by forming a double-handed grip and delivering a vicious chop to the side of Gabrielle's head, sending her reeling.

Quick as a flash, Sarit took two awkward strides through the shallow water and jumped on Gabrielle from behind. Her plan was to get the blonde into some kind of full nelson and hold her face down on the ground. Unfortunately Gabrielle was too quick and managed to twist away, tearing her shirt in the process.

Gabrielle had only been momentarily dazed by Sarit's unexpectedly effective resistance and now, with renewed strength, she charged at Sarit sending the pair of them reeling and tumbling on to the riverbank where they tore and clawed at each other. Eventually superior strength won out and Gabrielle ended up straddling the hapless Sarit.

Then lights appeared to shine at them out of nowhere.

Gabrielle looked up to see a jeep filled with soldiers. They seemed to be amused by the sight of these two women fighting. Then Sarit took the opportunity to reach up and claw at Gabrielle's eyes. The bigger woman let out a scream and staggered backwards as Sarit leapt to her feet with the last of her strength and pointed to Gabrielle.

‘
Hee mehabelet!
' she shouted, meaning, she's a terrorist. Unsure of what to do, but hearing no words of dispute from the bigger woman, the soldiers ran towards them to separate them. Sarit, struggling to regain her breath and composure, half-turned and pointed to Daniel and Goliath.

 

A malicious smile graced Goliath's lips as he prepared to dive on to Daniel, crushing him beneath his weight. But Daniel had one last trick up his sleeve. His hand groped on the ground for the rock that he had seen nearby. Finally he found it and just as Goliath realized what was happening, Daniel's hand shot out sending the rock smashing into Goliath's face with a velocity that Daniel did not think possible.

The big man let out a cry of pain that sounded like thunder in the night and then fell backward, unconscious.

Seconds later, Daniel got to his feet, holding the shroud and praying that it had not got damp during the incident. Sarit and two of the soldiers came running over.

Ignoring the potential danger from the shroud, Sarit approached him.

‘You got it wrong, Daniel. It's supposed to be
David
who uses a stone to defeat Goliath, not Daniel.'

He smiled.

‘I guess we'll have to rewrite the Bible.'

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