2013: Beyond Armageddon (22 page)

“Agreed.”

“What about getting permission from the mining company to dig on their property?”

“That would not be a problem. The land belongs to Israel, they just lease it. And archaeology always comes first in Israel, although we work closely with the Department of Tourism, coming up with ways to make sites attractive for tourists to bring money into the economy.”

“That should be an easy sell. If we find Sodom and Gomorrah, Israel will have a tourist attraction as big as the pyramids. Bigger, considering the lure of evil.”

Mordecai nodded. “Sadly, I must agree. Evil is big business. People always want to visit the places where the worst things happened. In any case, we would only be working in a small area of the mining operation, and they could work around us. Aside from permissions, there would still be all the other problems associated with any dig. Logistics would be a better word, since you are a military man. Equipment, personnel, lodging. It would get very expensive very quickly. The expense would be the hardest part for me to sell.”

Zeke launched into the sales pitch he’d been rehearsing.

“Quite understandable. Everything always boils down to money, so let’s talk about my proposal in financial terms. I would pay the entire expense of the dig, up to five million dollars. I don’t know all the costs associated with such a project, but I’ve got to believe that if we spend five million and still haven’t found Sodom and Gomorrah, it’s time to give it up.”

“I agree. It shouldn’t cost nearly that much for us to reach a conclusion.”

“In any case,” Zeke said, “we will create jobs and be putting money into an area that desperately needs it. I know tourism is a huge part of the economy, and the southern basin of the Dead Sea is one of the main tourist destinations. The hotels there are suffering badly because of terrorism. Not just there. Tourism throughout the country is suffering. But imagine if we find Sodom and Gomorrah. It would be arguably the greatest find of all time. Like finding Atlantis. And of course Israel would have ownership of all the artifacts discovered, which would be priceless. And the whole thing would not have cost you a shekel.”

Mordecai leaned back, clasped his hands across his stomach, and smiled. “You are a very persuasive man. Perhaps you should make the sales pitch.”

“I’ll leave that in your capable hands. If your people say yes, we need to get started as soon as possible. Would you be able to help me put the dig together?”

“Yes. That is my job. In this case, it would be my pleasure.”

“Sounds like you would have plenty to keep you busy.”

“It would be a good busy. A much better busy than the paper-shuffling I’ve been doing.”

“I’d want to keep this whole thing as quiet as possible. Especially the Hell part. If that got out, the media and religious fanatics would descend on us like a plague of locusts.”

“Oh, I had no intention of mentioning the Hell part. You’ve convinced me, but my colleagues would never believe it. I wouldn’t blame them. As far as keeping a dig for Sodom and Gomorrah quiet…we won’t advertise it, but these things get out, Zeke. Too many people would have to know about it. There would be no way to keep it secret. We’d draw some attention, but probably not too much. People aren’t very interested in the start of a dig—only when it’s done and you’ve actually found something.”

“Fine,” Zeke said. “Listen, Mordecai, I’m no archaeologist. Once the dig was underway we’d need someone on-site to oversee the operation. Could you do that, with your responsibilities here?”

“Yes. My assistant is very capable. I’d have to check in periodically, but yes. I could be your field director. I would like that very much.”

“Excellent.”

Mordecai opened his mouth as if to say something else, but hesitated.

“What?” Zeke said.

“I have several top professionals in mind for key positions, most of them Israelis. Jews. But there is someone else I’d want to hire. The man I spoke of earlier. Hassan. The one who was going to marry my daughter. I gave him his first marine archaeology job when he got out of college. He’s very good. Rusty, because he’s been working on land for many years, but we can get him up to speed quickly. But the reason I want him is much more personal than professional. It’s the vow he and I made to do something to stop the senseless slaughter. This dig is it. He needs it like I do, deep down in his soul.”

“Then give him the job. What’s the problem?”

Again, Mordecai hesitated. “There are a couple problems. He is Palestinian. An Arab among all those Jews…They are all professionals, but…the potential for friction would be very high. Very bad for a dig.”

Impatience rippled through Zeke and he leaned forward. “Mordecai, listen. I’ve had it with Arabs and Jews hating each other for all eternity. So has the rest of the world. It’s a crock of shit. You understand that expression? Crock of shit?”

He stifled a grin. “I’ve used it many times when I’m with my American friends.”

“The whole reason for this dig is to eliminate evil—hate—from the world. To bring people together in peace and harmony. That starts on my dig. Here’s an idea: If we find Sodom and Gomorrah, maybe Israel and the Palestinians could actually work together to develop its economic potential for the benefit of both parties. God knows they’ve been talking about it for decades. I like to think that all God’s children will come together in the end, to live happily ever after in Heaven with the Almighty, but down here, nothing promotes togetherness like the almighty dollar.”

“You do have a way with words. I’m not sure I want to play Scrabble with you.”

“Stick to those annoying 3-letter words and I’ll self-destruct.”

“Your idea of a joint project has merit. Israel and the PLO agreed to work together for their mutual economic benefit almost twenty years ago, in the Oslo Accords. You remember those?”

Zeke remembered them very well. He’d read them with great interest when he’d found out that the Accords had gone into effect on the exact same day in 1993 as the horror in the jungle. “Yes. Many lofty promises were made that were never kept.”

“Maybe it’s time.”

“It
is
time. Can you dust off those agreements and get people talking to each other?”

“I will make it part of my proposal.”

“Good. Now—as far as having your Palestinian friend on our dig, if we can’t bring two people together, how can we bring together seven billion? The people on my dig are going to leave their prejudice at the door. If they have a problem with that, I’ll handle it. I’d love to get their butts all in the same room and talk—or knock—some sense into them.”

“Some of these men might not be easy to knock. They were in Special Forces. Tough as nails.”

“I was in Special Forces also. If they’re the nail, I’m the hammer. Don’t worry about it. It’s probably not even going to be an issue. If it is, I’ll handle it. Trust me. You said there were a couple problems. What’s the other one?”

“Hassan would need to know the ultimate reason for the dig.”

“You mean Hell.”

Rosen nodded.

Zeke’s eyes bore into him. “You trust him?”

“Completely.”

“Is he a good man?”

“I would have been proud to have him for a son.”

“Then tell him. I’m happy to leave all the details in your hands. You’re the expert. I only have one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Whenever a decision has to be made about how to proceed, I have the final word.”

“Understood.”

Zeke stood to go. “We both have things to do. Keep me posted and I’ll do the same. Here’s my card with my cell phone number.”

“If our team of paleographers agrees with your friend’s interpretation of the scrolls, I will begin the wheels turning. In any case your proposal is my top priority. We will have the combined knowledge of some of the best paleographers in the world working on this, and I’ll be pushing things along as fast as possible. I’ll keep you posted every step of the way.” He came around the desk and took Zeke’s hand and held it. “Whatever happens, thank you for bringing hope into this old man’s life.”

Zeke smiled. “In the first place, Mordecai, you’re not that old. And in the second place, if we pull this off, we will bring hope to the entire world.”

Washington, D.C. November 1

Zeke and Leah lay basking in the afterglow of their first lovemaking since she had gotten home when the call from Mordecai Rosen came.

“Your Dr. Connolly’s reputation carries a lot of weight among paleographers. Our people agree almost entirely with his interpretation of the scrolls. Of course they will continue to study them and debate—that can go on forever—but they’ve seen enough to convince them a dig is warranted. They aren’t ready to declare that Lot was referring to Hell and Satan, but for our purposes, that doesn’t matter. They have not heard and seen what you and I have, and the decision to mount a dig is ultimately mine. Combining what Lot says with the photographic evidence of an anomaly, it’s time to move some mud in that southern basin.”

“I had a feeling,” Zeke said. “What happens next?”

“I will begin hacking my way through the bureaucracy, putting together a team, working out all the usual details: lodging, transportation, equipment and so forth.”

“I’ll need to take care of some things here, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I will have plenty to keep me busy.”

“You mentioned lodging. Where will we stay?”

“There are kibbutzes, hostels. I will have to see how many people we have and what makes the most sense. There is a small failed hotel with a sign that says For Lease. Perhaps a deal could be made. It looks rundown, but the location would be perfect if it is livable.”

“You’ll need some money. I can send you a check, or wire transfer it to an account, if that’s easier.”

“A check will be better. Then I can set up an account just for the dig.”

Zeke copied down the address and said he would FedEx the check today. “Here we go, Mordecai. On either the greatest quest of all time or the most foolish.”

“We are not fools, Zeke.”

“True. All right then. Let’s go save the world.”

Mordecai laughed. “A modest goal, but a good one.”

Zeke hung up and turned to Leah. “I guess you can tell what that was all about.”

“We’re going on a trip.”

“One hell of a trip,” he said. “Pun intended.”

“Things could start getting crazy from here on out,” Leah said.

“Most definitely.”

She placed her hand on his thigh. “Then we better make the most of our time together.”

“Yeah. We better.”

Jericho. The West Bank. November 1

Tarik set his cup of espresso down and thrust his face toward his son. Hassan sat in a worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, watching as a haunted look came into the old man’s eyes. Even though he lived alone, Hassan’s father looked around before speaking, as if fearful someone in his small apartment might overhear.

“Do not do this.”

Hassan looked at him in surprise. On the way here, he had wondered what his father’s reaction would be when he told him he was going on an underwater dig for Sodom and Gomorrah. Perhaps he’d feel hurt and abandoned, or worry that Hassan wouldn’t be able to check up on him as often, or be concerned that switching from terrestrial to marine archaeology at this point in his career might be too difficult.

Whatever reaction he’d expected, it wasn’t this. Hassan could understand if he’d told his father they were searching for Hell, but he hadn’t. Mordecai had emphasized that the Hell part of the dig needed to remain confidential.

The look in his father’s eyes wasn’t concern about loneliness, or failing health, or Hassan’s career. It came from someplace else entirely. It seemed to have been triggered by Hassan’s mention that the key factor in putting the dig together was two ancient scrolls.

“Father, why not?”

“Because those scrolls are cursed.”

“What?” In as neutral a voice as he could manage, Hassan said, “How could you know that?”

“You said the person who translated them used to be a priest, and that he got them from a Bedouin in 1947.”

Hassan nodded.

“That Bedouin was me. I am the one who discovered them. I am the one who sold them to that priest.”

Hassan drew his head back. “You never told me that.”

“I am not proud of it. I was hoping to take that story to my grave.”

Thoughts of fate and destiny came into Hassan’s mind as he considered the incredible journey the scrolls had taken. Perhaps his father’s superstition wasn’t so far-fetched. “Why do you say they are cursed?”

“Because I felt it from the moment I found the jar with them in it. That jar had evil in it.”

And now it is leading us to dig for Hell
, Hassan thought. Considering the shocking news that his father had discovered the scrolls, Hassan couldn’t not tell him about the search for Hell—possible confirmation that his father’s worst fears might be coming true. He trusted his father completely. Confiding in him would not risk breaching the confidentiality he had promised Mordecai.

In one quick outpouring Hassan told the sequence of events that had led to a dig for Hell: Norah’s murder, the vow he and Mordecai had made, the weeping olive tree in Gethsemane. “Then out of nowhere these scrolls showing the way to Hell walk through Mordecai’s door. Scrolls that
you
discovered. It’s perfect, don’t you see? It almost has a divine order to it. I can finish what you started.”

“No. Don’t
you
see? There is an order, but it is not divine. This is Iblis. Shaitan. The Devil himself, finally getting his revenge on me. Through you. You cannot walk into the middle of this.”

Hassan spoke very gently, not wanting to upset him but still needing to say what he felt. “Father,” he said, “I cannot
not
do this. You walked away from it in 1947. I’m sure you had good reasons, reasons that made sense at the time. But whatever evil there was in that jar—if there is an Iblis or Shaitan controlling things—walking away will never stop him. He must be confronted. And defeated. And that is what I am going to do.”