The Sacred Cipher (22 page)

“Now, beyond history, what makes Warren of such interest to you,” said Larsen, turning
back to his rapt listeners, “is that Warren made a series of maps from his time in
these tunnels. Today, it is clear that rather than spending most of his time burrowing
beneath the Temple Mount as he thought, Warren actually discovered the continuation
of the Western Wall. Warren reached bedrock at the northwest corner of the wall, and
that’s where his digging was forced to stop. But those maps are still in existence,
and at least it’s a place to start. Of all the spots in the tunnels that honeycomb
Mount Zion, Warren’s Gate is the one most pregnant with possibility.”

As he looked at the “class” arrayed before him, Larsen spotted the tell-tale signs
of information overload.

Joe Rodriguez stretched to the full length of his six feet and four inches. “Okay,
so it looks like there’s at least one way in and probably others,” he said. “But there’s
something that I just haven’t been able to figure out.

“This temple was a pretty big place, I gather. So the cavern the Jews needed to create
would also have been a pretty big place. And from what Tom has been telling me lately,
the Bible is very specific about the dimensions of the temple and about the material
that is to be used to construct the temple—cedar and gold and bronze and cut stones—and
all the artisans that were needed. How could these guys manage to get all this material
underneath the Temple Mount without anybody putting two and two together? And this
cavern would have to be huge, right? Where would they put the debris? I’ll tell ya,
it still sounds like the movies to me. It’s a good story, but it doesn’t make any
sense.”

Bohannon turned to squarely face his brother-in-law. “Yeah, the whole thing does sound
like a movie, and it is hard to believe. But we’ve got one thing that appears to guarantee
it’s all real.” He waited a moment. “If this is some fancy, elaborate hoax, why are
people trying to kill us?”

Rodriguez grimaced and slowly nodded. “Listen, I need a break,” he said, stretching
his shoulders. “How about if we take ten minutes and then get back at it?”

Bohannon caught up with Joe in the hallway, even though it was only a few yards between
the conference room and the director’s lounge.

“Listen, Joe, how much have you told Deirdre about everything we’re doing?”

“Not a lot,” said Joe, as he ushered Tom into the lounge, following the wonderful
aroma that had invaded their deliberations in the conference room. “And probably not
as much as I should have. I don’t think she would be very happy if she discovered
that your ‘accident’ was a deliberate attempt to kill you, or that another one of
this killer tribe tried to push Doc under a train. Or that the bunch of us are seriously
considering embarking on a treasure hunt under the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Geez,
Tom, Deirdre and Annie would flip out if they realized everything that we’re keeping
from them.”

Bohannon ignored the room’s fine furniture and books and followed a finer smell into
the kitchen, where some fresh-baked cookies—chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin—beckoned.

“Mmm, they’re still warm,” Rodriguez cooed. “An afternoon ritual around here. One
of the assistants pops some Otis Spunkmeyer in the oven. Good thing we’re just next
door. These won’t last long.”

Bohannon set to work scooping cookies onto a plate, while Rodriguez loaded a tray
with mugs of coffee and tea.

“I’ve told Annie about finding the scroll and trying to figure out what it meant.
But not much since. She thinks we’re just trying to identify the message because it
will be of more value to the mission once we understand what it means. But Joe, what
am I going to tell her? Keep your eyes open when you go out because somebody may try
to kill you? I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head wearily. “I don’t know. Sometimes
I feel like I have to keep all of this from her. Other times I feel that if I don’t
tell her, then I’m not protecting her. That she would probably be safer if she knew
to be careful. I don’t know.”

Bohannon caught Rodriguez’s concerned look over the steaming mugs.

“There was a long time in our marriage when I wasn’t honest with Annie. I had a secret
thought life. But after twenty years of marriage, God gave me the strength to be honest
with her.”

Bohannon saw alarm in Joe’s eyes.

“Yeah, you can imagine what life was like then,” said Bohannon, shaking his head.
“But over time, we worked through it, and Annie forgave me. And for the first time
in our marriage, we could be honest, vulnerable, transparent with each other. You
know what I found out? I used to believe that if Annie ever knew who I really was—you
know, that guy that all of us have hidden under the surface, the one we never want
our wives to know about—if she knew that guy, she would never be able to love me.
How could she? I didn’t love myself. But you know the amazing thing? The more Annie
knows me, all of me, the real me, the more she loves me. I’ll tell you, Joe, I don’t
get it at all. But it’s the truth.”

Bohannon hung his head for a moment, allowing the fullness of his emotions to be recorded
and felt. “Ever since that day, our marriage has gotten better. Not every day is great,
but over the last ten years, our life has been great, like we’re kids on our honeymoon.
And you know why? Because even when I screw up, I know I need to be honest with Annie.
Most of the time, I can do it. Sometimes, I fail. But we have a new life together,
and we both work real hard to keep it safe and make it work.

“And Joe,” he said, rubbing the heels of his hands over his bloodshot blue eyes, “I
can’t keep this truth from her any longer. I just can’t. Being honest is not an option
anymore; it’s a necessity.

“So be forewarned. Annie is going to know all about this tonight. And I’m going to
tell her that we’re going to Jerusalem as soon as we can figure out what we need and
where to go. You can do what you want with Deirdre. I just didn’t want you to get
blindsided at home.”

Bohannon looked up, and he was alone in the kitchen. Glancing to his left, he could
see the retreating Rodriguez turning out of the doorway and into the hall, an urgency
to his normally aggressive gait. Glancing to his right, he saw the tray of mugs, abandoned
on the counter.

Good man
, thought Bohannon.
Good man
.

“So that’s the whole of it,” Bohannon said. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you all
of this before. I never expected for it to turn into this huge . . . thing . . . and
to be honest, then I got scared when we realized there were people after us.” Bohannon
rested his chin in his right hand, shaking his head as if the weight of the world
rested on his neck. “I don’t know. This has all been pretty crazy. But regardless,
I should have filled you in on all the details long before this, and I’m really sorry
that I didn’t.”

They were sitting in Paesano’s, their favorite restaurant in Little Italy, at the
little table tucked into a corner by the front window, giving them a clear view of
the endless pedestrian traffic on Mulberry Street. It was a busy Thursday night, the
weather was good, the Italian restaurants had once again invaded the sidewalks for
the
al fresco
dining tourists loved, and Mulberry Street was closed to motor vehicles, giving the
strolling throngs more room to study menus and listen to the pitch of headwaiters
and a strolling brass band wearing red, white, and green caps.

Even in Little Italy, Paesano’s was unique. While all around it, restaurants modernized,
Paesano’s was the quintessential, old Italian restaurant from 1940s movies. Chianti
bottles hung from battered oak beams along with potted plants and fake grape arbors,
and antique opera posters decorated the white plaster walls. There were no red-checked
tablecloths. But Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Perry Como crooned from the speakers;
good, inexpensive pasta was served; and patrons enjoyed a nice view of the street
without being out in the middle of the crowd.

Bohannon tore apart a piece of bread while he waited for Annie’s reply.

“I forgive you,” she said with no trace of rancor. “I wish I had known before; I would
have known how to pray for you—even though these guys with the lightning bolt crosses
are pretty creepy.”

Bohannon knew his wife well enough after nearly thirty years that he, finally, was
able to tell when there was something lingering behind those pretty blue eyes.

“What is it?”

“There’s only one thing I need to know,” said Annie, searching his face. “Why you?
Why not let Dr. Johnson take this scroll to the British Museum and let the archaeologists
try to figure out if a temple could be under the Temple Mount? Why should you or Joe
be involved any further?”

That’s the big question, isn’t it? The one I’ve been asking myself
.

He reached out his hand to hold hers. “I’ve been praying about this for a long time,
trying to understand—not what I want to do, but what God wants me to do.” He looked
into her eyes. “Annie, each time I struggle with this, each time I bring it to God,
I keep getting the same answer . . .
This is what I’m calling you to do
. Honestly, it doesn’t make any sense. I’ve got my job to take care of. Shoot, I’ve
got you and Caitlin and Connor to protect. I shouldn’t be getting mixed up in something
crazy like this. But . . .”

Bohannon’s voice trailed off with his thoughts.

“But God’s told you . . . called you, right?” said Annie. “Well, Tom . . . really
. . . I’m not surprised.”

Bohannon’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Look, Tom,” she said, stroking the back of his hand, “you’ve never been one to back
down from a challenge. That’s what made you such a great investigative reporter. Even
under the hammering you took over the Swinton case, you did what you knew was the
right thing to do.”

Annie looked out the window at the strollers passing by, took a deep breath, and turned
back to her husband. “I don’t know why God picked you, but I know why I would pick
you. You’re honest, and you’re trustworthy, Tom. You’re not out to make yourself a
million bucks. If this message is true, the world will need someone of character and
integrity—someone they can believe in—to be sure it’s not a hoax or some bad practical
joke gone terribly wrong.”

“But why me?” said Tom. “I don’t want to be a hero.”

“You are a hero,” said Annie. “You just don’t know it yet. You’re made of the stuff
of heroes. You and Joe, you’re the kind of men who have always made the difficult
choice to be heroes.”

Bohannon shook his head in disbelief.

“No, I’m serious,” she said. “You would have been the guys to build log cabins in
the wilderness; you would have been the guys riding the Pony Express; you would have
been the guys holding the line at the Battle of the Bulge. Why did those men do it?
Why did those men take such risks? Because they were called to it, they were built
for it, and they had the courage to overcome their fear and do their duty.”

Bohannon felt heat rush to his cheeks. Annie smiled.

“I don’t know why God’s picked you for this,” she said. “But in one way or another,
he’s been preparing you for this moment all of your life.”

Annie waited until Alejandro, their favorite waiter, deposited their pasta in the
appropriate locations.

“So what do you do now?” she asked. They both knew the answer.

Twenty minutes later, they were scooping up the remains of their shared
tartuffo
. Silence had been their companion.

“Tom, I know you’ve got to go . . . honestly, I do. I can’t imagine you not following
through. God has chosen you for this time, for this job. We know without a doubt that
God brought us to New York, without a doubt that you were to work with the Bowery
Mission. There are no unexpected circumstances in God’s kingdom. Remember how often
we earnestly prayed that we would be in the middle of God’s will for us, no matter
what his will was? You know that, once you seriously ask God to fulfill his will,
the rest of it is his responsibility to work out. Well, I think God is working out
his will in your life right now. And, Tom . . .”

She waited until he lifted his eyes from the ice-cream mess on the plate.

“I’m proud of you.”

This was huge.

“I’m really proud of you,” she continued, “because of how you have allowed God to
work in you, heal you, change you. And how, for the last several years, you have never
allowed one thing, not even failure, to deter you from pursuing God’s will in your
life.